Title: Playtime
Author: HigherMagic
Pairings: Demon!Dean/Demon!Sam/Fallen!Slave!Brainwashed!Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: WIP
Spoilers: None (This is AU)
Summary: Dean gets this whole wing to himself, and a couple of months ago he caught an Angel, and got to train him and play with him. Now, it's time for the debut.
Notes/Warnings: Lots of bloody, gorey, evil boys doing stuff to each other.

With a final scream, and a delicious little knot-and-tug, the body slumps to the floor. She was beautiful, at one point, with flaxen blonde hair and eyes the color of the Earth sky, but now she's…red. An Irish red, if Dean could guess, and painted crimson by his brush – his knife. She's even prettier now, and in a few minutes she'll heal, and he can start all over again.

He turns around, sensing a presence, and catches Sam watching him out of the corner of his black-ringed eye. Dean grins, twirls his blade, and kneels, pretending like he didn't see Sam. He lets the blade drop with a clatter that echoes around the empty room, dipping his fingers in a dark, thick pool of her blood, which he then scoops into his mouth, sucking it in like it's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.

He moans, and Sam clears his throat, calling his attention to the Boy King. Dean stands and turns to him.

"Did ya see me, Sammy? Did ya?" He's childlike, grinning with an innocent, terrifying glee as he goes up to his younger brother, wrapping his arms around Sam's broad shoulders, fingers threading in his hair. The Boy King purrs and leans down, smiling against Dean's bottom lip that's reddened with blood and just a little chapped, dry against his own as he nuzzles into Dean's mouth, loving how submissive his big brother is against him as the older demon tilts his head back, lets him have his way – as always – his fingers curling gently in Sam's hair.

"Hmmm…I did, Dean," Sam replies, his arms snaking easily around Dean's waist and holding him close, grabbing his ass with one hand and splaying along his back with the other, so Dean can feel every line of him, hard muscle against softer, toned flesh. The Boy King moans as Dean rolls his hips against him, the teasing little slut. "It was beautiful. You're truly an artist." Dean chuckles – giggles, more like – against him, mouth opening to grin and Sam is quick to take advantage, tongue sliding into Dean's mouth effortlessly, tasting the blood and semen and sulfur gathered there.

Dean's been playing for some time, it seems.

The older Winchester brother gets an entire wing of Sam's palace to himself, to play in and roam as he pleases, and Dean's so happy there. He has all he could ever want, from the all-you-can-eat pie buffet that he frequently gorges himself on, to the dungeons that are directly underneath his bedroom, so he can hear the screams as he sleeps. They give him good dreams.

Dean smiles again, threads his first two fingers around Sam's first and tugs, pulling him along like a child does an adult's shirt sleeve, still grinning in that eager, child-like way. When his hand isn't enough, he lures Sam forward with his kiss or his body, a siren call that the Boy King never ignores, and they repeatedly find themselves up against a wall, shattering the gold-plated walls and sending 'art' crashing to the ground on the way to Dean's personal play area.

The interior is usually dark, and beautiful, covered in slime and saliva and gorgeous bloody spills. Chains hang down in no particular pattern – at least, there would be none to the untrained eye. Dean designed this place himself, and if one looks carefully, and everyone is strung up just right, the bindings form a perfect Devil's Trap. Dean likes to laugh at the irony, because they don't affect him here.

The dungeon is usually dark, but right now it shines. Full of blinding, brilliant light the color of a violet star, and Dean tugs his little brother into the warmth of it. It's full of heat, and brilliance, and it flares defensively as Dean comes closer, before the demon purrs and nuzzles into it, his hands gripping at something that Sam can't quite see yet.

"Shh, Angel," his brother purrs, hands caressing the light at hip-height, his eyes black and his smile serene and gently, voice calm like he uses when he's very, very close to the kill. "It's just me. Just Dean, Angel."

Slowly, the light calms under Dean's gentle touch, like an animal recognizing its master after so long with strangers, and the light fades slightly. The creature is still obviously afraid, his Grace quivering with the restraint it's taking not to fight back, but Dean is patience epitomized as he soothes the thing down, back into a relatively human shape.

The Angel has the brightest blue eyes Sam's ever seen, and alabaster skin, and jet black hair that looks like it belonged in a demon's eyes. He's beautiful, full lips parted and bleeding, red staining the side of his face as he quivers, facing the wall because his hands are manacled to keep him that way, with only enough give in them for him to kneel. Dean's hands touch him like the Angel belongs to him, and Sam knew his brother had caught an Angel a couple of months ago, but he thought Dean had killed it. He wasn't expecting…subservience.

Dean turns, so his body is behind the Angel, pressed up against him at every possible angle, and the Angel bites his lip, head bent forward as he braces himself against the wall. The inner light glowing within him darkens for a moment when Dean's presence surrounds him, black with desire and lust and devotion, and Sam smirks, realizing what Dean has done.

He's made the Angel need him. Fall for him.

And that is a talent beyond artistry.

"What's this beauty's name, Dean?" he asks, his voice a mix of a growl and a purr, and the Angel's eyes flash open and towards him, light flaring in defense, because he's never seen another demon before, not since Dean, and it's sort of like a sensory deprivation. Dean bites down very lightly below the Angel's ear, earning him a low whimper and another thrust back against the demon's cock, and they're almost fucking now. Would be if it weren't for the relatively thin barrier of Dean's pants against the Angel's ass.

Dean smiles when the Angel stops trying to fight again, hands curling into the cold stone of the wall, fingernails being bent back from the force of it, blood running down them from where they are red and sore-looking. "Come on, Angel, you know how to talk. You used to do it so much…I miss you voice. Speak, Angel, tell us your name," Dean croons, tone so persuasive that even Sam is affected by it, and if Sam knew Dean was such a good manipulator, he would have tasked him with much bigger things that playtime long ago.

"Cas…tiel," the Angel gasps out, whining from the back of his throat and baring his teeth when Dean smiles and bites him again, harder this time in the shoulder, and grabs for the Angel's ribcage, using it as leverage to thrust against, so he's really riding the valley of the Angel's ass now. "My name is Castiel."

"Mmm…a pretty name for a pretty Angel, isn't it, Sammy?" Dean asks, his eyes onyx with excitement as he runs a hand down Castiel's stomach, bending over him so he's practically covering the smaller creature with his body, wrapping a loose fist around Castiel's cock and pumping so it's just on this side of pleasurable. "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

Sam nods, because there's no denying that having such a powerful enemy struck down and begging for demon cock is a huge power thrill, and that sort of thing gets the Boy King going like nothing else. He's tempted to ask for a turn with him, but Dean is pretty damn territorial of his playthings, especially something that is so damn beautiful it's hard to look at. Castiel's head dips forward and he whimpers, rocking his hips forward into Dean's hand, then back against Dean's cock, so fucking wanton and breathless for it that he's more of a cock slut than Dean is.

"He sure is, Dean," Sam replies, low, as he stalks forward, and even though Castiel is losing himself, his Grace still flares protectively at Sam's approach. Not for himself, but for Dean – trying to protect his 'mate'. Sam almost laughs at it. "Very…pretty…" He lifts Castiel's head with his hand, tilting his chin up, and the Angel snarls at him, jerking his head away with enough force that the chains binding him rattle.

"Don't touch me," he growls, teeth bared and stained around the edge with blood, glaring at Sam out of the corner of his eye, because he's already braced for a blow, but the demons just laugh.

Dean almost turns savage, then, the harshest he's been with the Angel since their beginning, and he hisses, rearing up to bite down between Castiel's shoulder blades, where his wings would be if Dean let them out, and the Angel cries out in agony, falling to his knees. Dean lets him go, surrendering his handholds so he doesn't fall.

"He can fuck you dry if he wants to," Dean growls, eyes flashing, and Castiel whimpers, but doesn't curl away. No, he's too devoted for that – Sam watches in amazement as, instead, he lifts his head to look at Sam, eyes so wide and blue and pretty that Sam's taken aback, for a moment, before the Angel is suddenly right there, kneeling in front of him. His breathing is hard and warm on Sam's cock through the jeans that he wears more out of habit than anything else, and Castiel is quick with undoing them, intent on making it up to the demon who's obviously so important to his master, his mate, and it's not long before he's swallowing Sam's cock down like a pro, taking him deep into his mouth, into that wet suction-tight heat.

"Fuck," Sam growls, fingers knotting in the thick, soft clumps of Castiel's hair, fucking into his mouth easily and not caring if the Angel gags on him. He flashes black eyes up at Dean, who's watching like he's a starving man eyeing up a steak. "He's fucking good at this, Dean. Been giving him practice?"

The older demon meets his brother's eyes, and smirks. "Oh, he's a natural. That voice, Sammy – could fucking come just from listening to the sounds he makes. He can't sing though – there's only one thing a mouth like that is good for."

And ain't that the truth. Castiel's full, blood-reddened lips were stretched wide, and just a little chapped like Dean's were, and he was angling his head, allowed that little bite of freedom as he took Sam down, letting the demon fuck his mouth savagely. He's gagging every other thrust or so and he doesn't even move to shy away or stop Sam, because he's a good Angel and all good Angels get fucked. It's just the way of things. It's a reward.

Sam explodes, hot and salty and bitter along his tongue, and Castiel holds it in his mouth because Sam hasn't told him to swallow yet. The flavor is quite unpleasant, but he milks Sam for all he can while the demon comes, using his own release as extra slick, before pulling out. A little trail escapes before Castiel can stop it, but he holds the rest in. Cheeks flushed and lips swollen, he looks thoroughly debauched. Castiel whines when Sam steps away, the demon breathing hard and flushed as well, but then suddenly Dean's there, and Dean makes everything alright. The Angel sighs lightly, relaxing when the demon kneels in front of him, eyes raking over his face with an appraising look, before he leans up, sealing his lips over Castiel's. The Angel moans, melting into the demon's heat as Dean's tongue slides in, licking over the roof of his mouth in a move that makes Castiel shiver, hands firmly behind his back because he's not allowed to move yet, and he can't anyway – the shackles don't reach that far.

Dean cups his chin, tilting his head up, and Dean kneels so they can keep kissing, the demon's tongue licking at his brother's come in Castiel's mouth, and his very Grace shivers at the wrongness of it, but it's so deliciously decadent, and he's already fallen anyway. His wings burn where they attach to his body as Dean pets through his hair, finally pulling away with a purr.

"Good Angel," he murmurs, smiling and Castiel offers a shy, coy one in return. "Swallow."

He does, grateful for it because the taste was starting to get to him, and gasps out a breath. Dean's already back there, licking at the thin line of come running down the corner of his mouth, and over the demon's shoulder Castiel can still see Sam, watching them with heat in his eyes and his cock already hard again, flushed and huge and curling up towards his belly. Castiel sighs gently, burying his face in Dean's neck – he's ready to get fucked now. Needs it, like he needs Dean and air and food – which are suddenly important now that he's fallen.

"Something on your mind, Angel?" Dean purrs, brushing the blood-and-sweat-matted hair from Castiel's face, thumb brushing over the first and only permanent wound Dean ever gave him; a thin line from the Angel's own blade along his temple, down to the corner of his eye and disappearing into his hairline. Castiel turns his head into the touch, licking at the sensitive underside of Dean's wrist, and the demon smiles, looking back over his shoulder at his brother. "Would you be willing to join us, Sammy?"

The Boy King smiles, his eyes flashing yellow, his teeth just a little too sharp to be normal, and he cocks his head to one side. "I'm going to fuck you, Dean, when you're balls deep in your Angel. I don't think the little slut can take us both so soon."

Dean 'hmm's to himself gently, taking Castiel's chin in his hand again and raising the Angel's face as he stands, watching him appraisingly, before his full, slightly chapped lips purse and he nods. "I think you're right – I'll work on it with him," he says with a Cheshire cat smile that sends shivers through Castiel's Grace, and both demons laugh again. "Stand up, Angel," Dean says, pulling up Castiel by the chin so that the Angel is forced to clamber upright or lose his jaw, until he is standing, just an inch shorter than Dean, and the demon leans forward to pin him against the back wall.

The iron handcuffed around his wrists dig painfully into the thin, bird-like bones in his arm, and Castiel whimpers very slightly, arching away from the suddenness of the cold brick wall, only to find the warm demon body resisting his press, keeping him down. Castiel holds himself with such sweet surrender that Dean growls, clawing at him with a desperate air, forcing his only piece of clothing off and away so his hard cock can rub against the Angel's, a teasing little grind that has them both shuddering and sighing into each other. Castiel reaches forward, daring with his touch, to hold Dean's hips and ride his thigh, and the demon lets him, finds it amusing, in fact, as he bites and licks at Castiel's lips, making them swollen and red and beautiful. The Angel breaks the kiss reluctantly, panting for the air he needs, as the demon's attention goes to his neck, to his racing, fluttering pulse, and then Sam is there too. He's shed his jeans as well, so all three men are naked, now, and Castiel whimper-hisses as Sam leans over his brother's shoulder, drawing Castiel's bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes flashing yellow before he closes them and Castiel opens up to him, drawing him in with his wickedly talented mouth.

The chains are all twisted around Castiel's body from his manhandling, and Dean forces him to his knees again, and around, so that they untwist and Castiel is facing the wall now. He braces himself, forearms flat against it, framing his forehead as he leans there too, and exhales, and waits. His wings shudder, confined in his vessel, and he almost sobs when Dean sinks his teeth into Castiel's spine, and the Angel bucks, arches, torn between intense pleasure and incredible pain, and he'd be sagging against the wall if Dean's hands weren't holding him up.

Dean kicks his legs apart, using the blood from Castiel's back to slick his cock up, and grabs his hips, and starts to push in. Castiel's still loose and wet from just a few hours before, and Dean growls at the tight grip of his muscles around the demon's cock. Castiel's such a slut for it – he can feel the Angel's body trying to keep him in, clamping down and sucking him in deeper, and the Angel is rocking back against him, fucking himself on Dean's cock even before he's all the way inside. "So greedy…" Dean growls, biting down again, this time underneath Castiel's shoulder blade, leaving a perfect imprint of his teeth behind as the Angel whines and moans a broken 'Yes'.

Demons get off on depraved and wrong. Fucking an Angel is so far off the charts that by the time Dean's balls deep in Castiel, he's ready to explode already, but he has to wait out for Sammy. The Boy King is not gentle – he doesn't need to be. Dean's got his own plaything, and Dean belongs to Sam – Sam can do whatever the fuck he wants, because he's Sam. So while Dean worries around prep and chafing and shit like that, Sam…doesn't. The most Dean gets is spit from his own mouth, as Sam shoves two fingers in behind his teeth like he's a stallion refusing the bit, and Dean growls, tossing his head as he shoves forward inadvertently, deeper into Castiel, and bites down on his brother's fingers, but Sam just grins and laughs against his shoulder, the bastard, pushing against the back of Dean's throat hard enough for his brother to gag.

Then, he pulls them back out, leaving the taste of sweat, blood and sulfur behind, and uses what little there is to shove into and around Dean's ass. It's preliminary and does almost nothing to ease the way, but Sam doesn't care and neither does Dean, so they deal. When the Boy King finally begins to push in, Dean's world goes black for the briefest second. Sam is brilliant fire behind him, and Castiel's Grace flares, hearing Dean's quiet moan of pain, but the Angel isn't in much of a position to do anything and so he doesn't. Dean caresses his invisible feathers to distract himself while Sam fucks into him in short, shallow thrusts that get him almost nowhere and just prolong the dry stretch. That's more for Sam's sake than anyone else's, because there's nothing quite like the tightness of a channel clenching in pain. Dean's learned that from experience.

Still, it feels fucking good, because demons get off on wrong and sin, and this is incestuous sodomy. It's fucking glorious. Incestuous sodomy while dirtying the purest creature known to the universe, and Dean's about this close to coming and they haven't even started yet. The pain in his ass is a momentary distraction, but really he's just about ready to just fuck Castiel now, and the Angel is making delicious little needy sounds in the back of his throat, fucking himself gently on Dean's cock, desperate for it like an eager little slut.

Dean smirks, digs his nails into Castiel's hips, and begins to move, because really all this is up to him. He slides forward into Castiel with ease, and then rams himself back onto his brother's cock. Back and forth, until Sam catches onto his rhythm, and then there's two sets of hips driving into Castiel, and the Angel is gasping, legs shaking from the force as Dean changes his angle, hits his prostate dead-on, again and again and again. Castiel is moaning and crying out and begging for Dean, and for Sam, and for God, and the third one makes the demons laugh.

Sam comes first, surprisingly, stiffening behind Dean and biting down into his neck with a low growl that Dean can feel in his body and soul. He moans against the sweaty, dirty skin of Castiel's neck as Sam rocks through his orgasm, his come stinging a little where the dry penetration had torn at Dean's hole, made him bloody and wet. Sam pulls out as quick as he pushed in, almost derisive with it as he pushes at Dean, forces him deeper inside his Angel, and gives them both departing kisses on their foreheads before he leaves. He doesn't have time to fuck around for long, after all – he has a whole Hell to run.

Dean turns gentle then, for the second time, thrusting into Castiel slowly, long and methodical with it until the Angel is shaking against him, and begging in a broken voice to be allowed to come, because it's torture to hold back but the punishment is far worse.

"Please, Dean…God…Dean, let me…please…" He's beyond words, but he needs them, needs to beg Dean properly otherwise the demon won't let him and he might just die. "I need…"

"I know what you need, and when," Dean replies with a low snarl, reaching around once again to start jacking Castiel off, and the young Angel whimpers, practically falling against the cold wall, trying to ground himself. His ass is clenching in a delicious way around Dean's cock, forcing the demon's orgasm from him. It takes Dean by surprise, and he stiffens and stills his movement, filling Castiel up with his seed – he wishes, briefly, that the Angel was female, because that would make an interesting gift to give to Sammy as thanks for letting him keep his Angel. Still, nothing beats a good ass and a pretty face, and his Angel is gorgeous. "Come for me, Cas, right now," he growls, tightening his grip, and the Angel doesn't need to be told twice. He comes with a high keen, muffled against his forearm, which he bites down hard enough to draw blood from, eyes clenching tightly shut, and in the room echoes the rustle of feathers as his wings stretch on some plane that isn't here. "Good Angel," Dean purrs, stroking down Castiel's spine as he pulls out, and the Angel shivers, falling to the ground. His breath is hard and his body is sweaty and red, and he's beautiful when he looks up at Dean, breathing his name like he's the Christ himself, and Dean smiles and kneels down in front of Castiel, pecking at his face and lips gently, chastely kissing him.

"Dean…" Castiel's voice is shy, now, hesitant, and when the demon pulls away to look at his Angel, the other man is blushing, blinking away from him in an innocent flutter of eyelashes.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean asks, brushing hair away from Castiel's face.

The Angel's bright blue eyes flash to his. "You won't really let him come back, will you? I…I don't want…" The Angel's fists clench, because he learned long ago that what Dean wants here, he gets, and his desires aren't a factor – but maybe Dean will see it fit to not invite Sam back here. "I don't want to share you," Castiel confesses, and it's the truth as much as it is that he doesn't want to be shared by Dean, either. He just wants the demon, and only him, and Dean blinks in surprise, before smiling at him. It's that Cheshire cat smile again.

"You'll take whatever I'm damn well willing to give you, Angel, and you'll like it," he replies, no change in his voice, but Castiel can sense the cold hostility and danger that's radiating from Dean now, just waiting to be disobeyed. Castiel takes in a deep, shaky breath, and dips his head, eyes on the floor beneath Dean's feet.

"Yes, Master."