Sorry its late again peeps, I had a bit of trouble getting this chapter just how I wanted it. Still not exactly happy, but hey-ho, I don't think I'll ever get it right... will just have to wait on the verdict from you guys.

Upcoming dub-con, just so you know

"Damn, my brain hurts." Pamela moans, slamming the heavy textbook closed and dropping her head against the desk. Reaching under the bench to sift through the snacks they'd brought she retrieves a dry cracker and munches it listlessly. Glancing up to the darkened windows she lets out a heavy sigh. "We have to be the only losers still studying at this time on a Friday night… are you sure we can't go for a drink instead?"

"Mid-terms are less than month away," Castiel warns, glancing up from his notes with a small smile. "We only have a limited timeframe in which to memorize all the required information as it is, without destroying valuable brain cells with alcohol."

"I've studied so much I'll need to kill off a few just to make any room to think," Pamela snorts, "Come on Ash, you're with me, right?"

"Right on," Ash murmurs, not looking up from his laptop. It's unlikely he's been revising anyway.

"Novak?"

"I don't think so," Castiel murmurs, ducking his head back into his book.

"Oh come on man, you never come out with us." Pamela punches him lightly in the arm. "There's plenty of time left to study before exams, we've worked hard the last few days- we deserve a break!"

"I really shouldn't."

"Where's the fun in doing what you should?" Pamela winks, flicking her dark hair back and leaning over the table. "Come on Castiel, don't be a spoilsport."

Refusing to meet her eyes, Castiel flips over a page, staring intently at the image of Matisse's 'Woman with a Hat' and trying to concentrate on the accompanying text.

It's tempting… oh so tempting. A loner all through high school, having friends for the first time is a new experience- and he so badly doesn't want to disappoint them, doesn't want them to find him dull and lose interest.

"What's the problem… your boyfriend won't let you out so late?"

But then there's that.

It's only six months since his relationship with Michael progressed from the more confusing stage of their courtship when Castiel was unsure what to make of their time together, to the eventual revelation of Michael's intentions and the beginning of any form of intimacy between them. Only six months, yet already Castiel is forgetting what it was like to make decisions without first vetting them with 'what would Michael say?'

It's depressing how easily he has accepted that.

"I don't need Michael's permission," Castiel mutters, the tips of his ears glowing with chagrin.

It isn't a lie, though neither is it the whole truth. Michael would never set demands or forbid anything, but Castiel is coming to understand that the man doesn't have to, his expectations are clear nonetheless.

"So what's the problem?"

Castiel chews his bottom lip, torn with indecision. He's never been to a bar without Michael's accompaniment… never been in a club, period. It's not as though he's unhappy with his situation, but he can't help but wonder what it would be like to spend the evening with people his own age for a change, to socialise with his newfound friends and have a taste of what he's been missing.

Michael would surely disapprove… but then as far as Michael knows, he's studying late then going home. There's no reason for him to find out otherwise.

"No problem I guess… fine, I'll go."

(***)

Squeezing his eyes shut, Castiel massages his temples in an effort to assuage the dull pounding in his skull. His stomach churns disagreeably and the taste of tequila still lingers sourly on his tongue.

God damn Pamela and that last round of shots… he'd been doing so well up until then.

Groaning inwardly, Castiel wishes he'd been able to get just a few more hours sleep this morning instead of being woken at the crack of dawn; it's not unusual for John Winchester to appear on his doorstep or outside a lecture theatre to collect him at Michael's request, but he has to curse his own bad fortune that the older man would choose this particular morning to demand his presence.

The low hum of Michael's voice in the next room stops and he hears the click of a receiver followed by the soft padding of approaching footsteps.

"Good morning Castiel, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

"Michael," Castiel pries his eyes open, squinting slightly at the unwelcome brightness to see the other man standing in the doorway. Michael looks immaculate as always in a navy double-breasted suit, silver tiepin glinting in the weak early morning sun; Castiel feels grubby and unkempt in comparison, having only had time to wash his face and brush his teeth whilst John had waited.

"How are you?" Michael asks, taking a seat opposite him. "You seem a little… under the weather."

"I'm fine," Castiel smiles faintly, though the rolling in his stomach and slight green tinge to his skin tell another story. "Just feeling a little queasy… maybe something I ate."

"Possibly," Michael crosses his legs and reclines slightly, surveying Castiel over the peaks of his clasped fingertips, "Though I would say it's more likely to be the six bottles of beer, eight shots of tequila, three rum and cokes and the margarita you consumed last night at that club down on 6th, wouldn't you agree?"

Castiel's heart stops and for a long moment he simply stares, mouth dropping open with an audible pop.

"How… how did you…"

Michael smiles amiably though the expression does not reach his eyes; Castiel feels a sharp spike of fear at the hard look in those grey depths.

"Come Castiel, I believed you to have more intelligence than that." Michael spreads his arms expansively, "Surely you realise I know everything that goes on in these parts."

The dumbstruck expression on Castiel's face holds steady.

"I have many eyes Castiel; you should know that nothing escapes my notice. So why would you think you could get away with lying to me about your whereabouts- what happened to your study group?"

Castiel swallows carefully around the lump in his throat. "We were working in the library until it got late, then someone suggested going for a few drinks… my intention was not to mislead you, it was a last minute decision- I swear I would never lie to you."

Michael nods slowly.

"Indeed. Well then… perhaps you would like to tell me about the young man who so eagerly claimed your attention last night?"

Castiel pales, his blood turning to treacle in his veins, a thick sludge his heart struggles to process. How on earth does Michael know about that? His chest constricts painfully and nausea rises as blurred memories of the previous evening flicker through his thoughts.

A flirtatious wink across the bar, drinks pressed into his fingers with a seductive 'it's on me'…

"It was nothing." Castiel murmurs, a slight quiver to his voice. "He… he bought me a drink… I thought he was just being friendly,"

The flash of animal white teeth and a lean body pressed against his back… sweaty hands grasping his hips, swaying against him, moving with the body of the crowd to the pulsing rhythm of the heavy electric bass…

"Then he tried to dance with me…"

'Come outside with me', murmured low and suggestive into his ear… warm breath on his neck, knowing fingers toying with the waistband of his jeans… a stirring deep in his gut never engendered by Michael- a moment of indecision…

Lucidity breaking through the alcohol induced haze… reluctant withdrawal

'I can't, I'm with someone… he'd kill me.'

A quiet chuckle, 'Why… who is he?'

A look of horror at the response… followed by a swift exit.

"But nothing happened- I told him I was in a relationship and he left… that's it."

"I see."

Locked in the snake's glare unable to look away- frozen by the power of the gorgon, Castiel holds his breath and waits for the next move.

Rising to his feet with the elegance of a predator, the lazy uncoiling of a cat readying for hunt, Michael comes to stand behind him, placing two hands firmly on his shoulders.

The gesture is unthreatening, yet Castiel feels the weight of those fingers like a ton of bricks bearing down on him.

"Did you know I have fourteen cousins?" Michael's voice sounds from above his head and Castiel blinks at the sudden change in conversation.

"Um, no." He tries to turn and look up but Michael's grip on his shoulders is unyielding.

"Our family has always been large, strength in numbers I believe."

"Right."

"And loyalty… they say blood is thicker than water, and I genuinely believe it to be true. Apart from John, my family are the only ones I can trust. I lead them with a strong but fair hand, and in return I have their love and devotion."

Castiel is completely lost.

"Which is why I received a visit late last night from my cousin, Balthazar."

'This one's on me beautiful… the name's Balthazar.'

It takes a few seconds for the pieces to fall into place, but when they do the brief moment of blind panic knocks the breath out of him, quiet hysteria rising behind his frozen façade.

"He was quite distressed at the thought that he had attempted to seduce my partner, and so came straight here to beg my forgiveness." Michael carries on conversationally. "Smart really, to come to me himself before I received word through some one else."

Releasing his hold on Castiel, Michael rounds the couch, coming to stand before him. He reaches a hand to help Castiel to his feet, and the younger man takes it hesitantly.

"Anyway, I was obviously sympathetic of his blunder, excusing his ignorance," Michael pushes a strand of Castiel's hair behind his ear. "Which is why there will be no lasting damage."

The chill that runs through Castiel blisters his insides, the icy fear spreading from his stomach, frost licking along his veins until his whole body trembles.

"What do you mean?"

Michael smiles that benevolent smile of his, shrugging unapologetically.

"Balthazar was very understanding; he knew he would have to be punished. He took it quite admirably."

"But… why. Nothing happened."

Michael's eyes harden.

"Because he touched what's mine."

Castiel is turned and pinned to the wall by his throat before he even knows what's happened, Michael's lips brushing against his ear.

"…And you are mine, Castiel. Make no mistake about it."

"I'm yours," Castiel gasps, dragging in a deep wheezing breath, whimpering at the tight grip bruising his neck and making it difficult to breathe.

The hand gripping Castiel's throat relaxes, sliding beneath the collar of his shirt and thumbing lightly along the smooth line of his throat.

"Do you know what first attracted me to you Castiel?" Michael's eyes follow the movement of his own hand, throwing Castiel again with the unexpected question. "Your innocence- at Rachel's funeral, you looked at me with those big blue eyes, and right there I knew- you were the one."

Soft fingers gently trace his collarbone, and Castiel struggles to control his erratic breathing trying to keep up with Michael's changing moods.

"I've always chosen to forego relationships you know," Michael continues. "Too many unworthy admirers attracted by my wealth and status. But then you came along and I knew… it was time."

Castiel clenches his hands in the fabric of his slacks, trying to stay still as Michael's fingers start to unbutton his shirt.

"But you are young, and so I've been patient. I haven't wanted to rush you, but last night tells me that perhaps I have been too generous, and now it's time for you to learn your place."

Pushing his shirt from his shoulders, Michael greedily eyes the expanse of Castiel's bare chest, tracing his hands over the pale unblemished flesh with something akin to reverence. He mouths the tender skin of the younger man's neck, sucking roughly until it begins to bruise then biting down sharply.

"I've given you everything you wanted Castiel," Michael growls, voice rough with lust. "And now it is time for you to give all you have to me."

(***)

It hurts. Good God, it hurts.

Castiel clenches his teeth to hold in the pained cries clamouring for release, fingers twisted in the sheets until they almost lose circulation as Michael moves inside him.

He hasn't got a great deal of knowledge on the mechanics of all this, but he's certain preparation is essential, and he's pretty sure he hasn't had nearly enough.

Sitting on the bed stroking his own erection, Michael had dropped a tube of lubricant onto his stomach with a terse instruction to 'open yourself up'. Though Castiel had tried, he didn't have a clue what he was doing, and after a few short moments Michael had pushed away his trembling fingers and replaced them with the rounded head of his cock.

Breaching the first tight ring of muscle, Michael pushes relentlessly forward, forcing himself inside Castiel's under stretched channel. Biting down hard on his tongue, Castiel tastes rich copper as blood fills his mouth. He feels lightheaded; the excruciating pain of Michael's engorged flesh branding him from the inside.

"Yes…" Michael hisses when he eventually bottoms out, pausing to revel in the tight dry heat of Castiel's body. Castiel whimpers pitifully when the older man pulls back, dragging his flesh taut before pushing back in. He can't help but struggle a little, his body instinctively shying away from the burning pressure, but Michael's hands catch him immediately, holding his wrists in a bruising grip and preventing resistance.

Michael kisses him and Castiel tries helplessly to concentrate on the movement of his lips, distracting him from the jerky rhythm of Michael's hips, thrusting shallowly as the younger man's clenched muscles prevent more exaggerated movement. Castiel's cock remains limp and lifeless between them, the pain enough to combat any chance of arousal. Occasionally Michael's dick brushes something inside of him, sending a brief flare of pleasure sparking through his limbs, but it isn't enough to ease the discomfort and Castiel finds himself scrunching his eyes shut and praying it will be over soon.

Eventually Michael's movements become fitful, the older man panting heavily as he drives into Castiel's battered body, until finally he fetches up against him, growling as he comes in one long spasm.

Castiel lets out a small cry of surprise at the sudden wet heat flooding him, then gasps as Michael's solid weight lands heavily on his chest. Gasping for breath Castiel pushes at the other man, wriggling slightly until Michael grunts, his flaccid cock sliding free with a pained groan from Castiel, and rolls over.

"It'll be easier next time," Michael stretches, closing his eyes and drifting already towards slumber. "You'll see."

(***)

Whilst Michael had fallen asleep instantly, Castiel had lain for a long time staring at the decorative cornice above the door before the emotional drain had allowed him to drop into an uneasy doze.

When he awakes, it takes a minute of disconcerted panic to figure out where he is, the unfamiliar bedroom seeming cold and unfriendly. Looking around, he finds himself alone, the angle of the sunlight through the window suggesting late afternoon.

Castiel shifts and is at once greeted by a lance of sharp pain shooting through his insides, he freezes and takes a few deep breaths before trying again. Moving gingerly, he stands, wincing at the dull ache that persists, and walks awkwardly to the bathroom, leaning on the basin and taking in the sight of his reflection.

Oh. He'd expected to look different.

He certainly feels it.

Raising a hand to the purple mark marring the pale skin of his neck, he notices the shadows of developing bruises around his wrist. He stares at them for a long time before looking up to meet the haunted expression on his own face. Closing his eyes, he turns away in disgust.

Setting the shower blissfully hot Castiel steps into the cubicle, letting the scalding spray hit him square in the face and breathing in the cloying thickness of the steam. It's only when the first soothing droplets of water hit his abused body, that the tears start to fall.

His silent weeping quickly turns into breathless sobs, the kind of crying when you have to fight for air between each wracking whimper. He cries for his lost innocence, for the pain wrought on his body, but most of all, he cries because he has finally realised exactly what he's gotten himself into.

Naively believing the rumours to be exaggerated just because Michael has been nice to him, he'd ignored the warnings around him, and now it's too late. Now he's trapped.

Sliding down the tiled wall, Castiel hugs his knees to his chest and rocks himself until the water runs cold.

(***)

Later that evening Castiel sits alone in Michael's kitchen, sipping coffee that is barely above room temperature. The other man has yet to come home, but Castiel knows it's important that he be here when he does, so has already called Anna and told her not to expect him back at Zachariah's.

Now that the uncontrollable surge of despair that had overcome him earlier has ebbed, he feels strangely calm. Prepared. So now he knows- how it is to be.

He thinks back over the last six months with Michael, from the man's declaration of intention and the almost shy hesitancy of their first kiss, to the terrifying ordeal of this morning. Michael is still the same person he reminds himself- still the same man that took him to the opera for the first time and offered him a handkerchief in amusement when he wept at the finale, the same man who held his hand at his aunt's graveside at the first anniversary of her death.

Up until today he's been reasonably content with their relationship, happy in the other man's company. It isn't love, but Castiel had thought it could grow, and perhaps it still can. They get on well enough and now Castiel understands where he truly stands, and Michael's expectations of him, perhaps this isn't as bad as first thought. Michael is an honourable man in his own way; Castiel knows that if he acts as he should he will be treated well.

Self-preservation instincts kicking in, Castiel realises this is his only option. It may not be ideal, but he doesn't have a choice. He can't leave- Michael has made that perfectly clear, this is it now. This is his life. And he can sit here despairing over his fate, or accept it.

Pushing aside any misgivings, Castiel vows that from now on, he will be the perfect partner to Michael, devoted until the man decides otherwise. He will be loyal and doting, responsive to his every need and will give the man no reason for a repeat of this morning. That decided, he feels a little better. He will show Michael just how good he can be, and they will go on as though today never happened.

A week later, Michael asks Castiel to move in with him. Castiel says yes.

Two months after that, Michael takes on a new recruit. His name is Dean Winchester

(***)

"Who the hell are you?"

Shifting automatically into 'defend and protect', Dean eyes the newcomer suspiciously, subtly shifting to place himself in front of Castiel. Leaving its place on Castiel's hip, his hand instinctively comes to rest on the semi-automatic tucked into his belt.

Looking Dean up and down, unimpressed, the visitor chuckles lightly, "Easy Rambo, why don't you go take a walk. I need a word with Cassie here."

Glancing towards Castiel and seeing the other man's frozen expression, a mingling of shock and fear, Dean bristles with anger. Nobody gets to make Castiel look like that.

"Or.. how about you tell me who the fuck you are and I don't kick your ass for trespassing."

The stranger raises an eyebrow and fixes Dean with a cool stare, sighing wearily as though this whole situation is tedious.

"They call me Gabriel."

If the man is expecting a reaction at this declaration, he is sorely disappointed.

"Yeah, and…?" Dean looks down at the sandy blonde-haired man, still assessing the level of threat. "What does…"

A hand on his elbow interrupts him and he turns to see Castiel staring uncomfortably at the stranger, brow creased in apprehension. When he speaks, his voice is pained and low.

"Dean… Gabriel is Michael's brother."

Super-long A/N: Yeah… ok. So I don't know how this chapter will be received, as I said, I'm not really happy with it myself, so I'd be really grateful for some feedback.

Sorry about the Michael/Cas, I know a lot of you have started shipping them, and I hope this didn't put you off, but I pretty much always planned for this to happen. In fact, I think originally it was going to be a lot more harrowing and violent but when it came to it it just didn't feel right. Anyway that's about it for the background on their relationship. Let me know if I've missed anything or any of it's unclear.

And… Gabriel! Regarding the mystery figure, I admit I wasn't 100% set on who it would be when I wrote the last chapter, I have been playing with a couple of options, but L. Greene wanted an appearance from Gabe, so… voila!

Lastly- Thank you again to all reviewers, you guys keep me motivated – please don't stop!