As promised, your second chapter of the day!

By evening, Dean's cell phone had given up the ghost. A large chunk fell out of the screen less than an hour after he hung up with Sam, sharp edges of glass threatening to slice his finger open if he attempted to swipe over the touchpad. One look at Castiel destroyed any thought Dean had of going out and trying to replace the phone that night. Instead, he joined the halfling lounging in the warm saltwater pool in the hotel room, cuddling and talking for hours. They ordered room service. They didn't questioned when neither Gabriel nor Anna came back that night. No one checked on Dean an. They weren't worried. If something catastrophic happened, they'd certainly know.

Thus, it was not until the following morning that Dean got a replacement phone and was inundated with a dozen new text messages from his friends and family. Sorting through his contact list, he went through the notifications. Ben's was the most recent, and thus he checked that first. Besides, it was imperative that Dean tell his son about Castiel, the sooner the better. If Sam had found out about Dean from the news, odds were that Ben had also. Sure enough…

Ben Winchester (10:44 AM): Anything you wanna tell me dad?

Dean was tempted to shirk his responsibilities, but he sucked up his embarrassment – the poor boy has seen my goddamn porn, how can this possibly be worse than that? – and replied.

Dean Winchester (11:46 AM): Yeah Cas and I talked about stuff and you were right and we're gonna try dating.

Dean flipped to his next missed text.

Alex Jones-Mills (10:41 AM): OMG I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

Alex Jones-Mills (10:43 AM): I KNEEEEEEEEEEEEW IT

There was no conceivable reply to that.

Charlie Bradbury (9:42 AM): Have you seen this yet? watch?#45skd5

Dean clicked the link and a video auto-played.

The camera focused on Dean and Castiel making a spectacle of themselves. Dean lay on the ground, arms around Castiel, and Castiel's tentacles flailed at the air as he mashed lips with Dean enthusiastically. Shame colored Dean's face and he was about to exit the video when the hubbub of overlapping voices broke into distinguishable words.

"You disgusting halfling freaks!"

"Hey, did you catch that?"

The cameraperson panned their view to the counter-protesters. A burly man shouted in the face of a half-octopus who stood, arms and tentacles folded over her chest and a supremely disdainful look on her face. The counter-protesters shouted increasingly nasty things. A second half-octopus joined the first, a third, a fourth, making a line of aloof disinterest dividing the antis from the rally attendees. Finally, egged on by this show of grace under pressure, one of the assholes threw a punch at the first half-octopus. Her head whipped to one side, but she was otherwise unphased. She turned her head back and gave the instigator a toothy smile.

The counter-protest broke up almost immediately.

"Dammit, they're not kissing anymore," sighed the person who'd taken the footage. The playback ended.

The video had 1.2 million hits.

Unsure what he could say, Dean flipped through his phone to see what Cain had written.

Cain (9:02 AM): Yesterday, I submitted a request to the Kansas state government on your behalf, indicating your intension to emancipate your halfling.

Cain (9:03 AM): In reply they issued a warrant for your arrest.

Cain (9:04 AM): This morning Henriksen rallied the local and state police. So far over a thousand have signed a document refusing to enforce the warrant.

Cain (9:06 AM): So I think you can safely go home without fear of incarceration, but I can't guarantee it.

Cain (9:07 AM): If you are arrested, say nothing and call me immediately. I'll get to Kansas as soon as I can.

Dean Winchester (11:49 AM): We're heading back tomorrow I think. Just so you know. I'll warn Charlie and Anna and Castiel about the danger.

Cain (11:51 AM): Have you spoken to Charlie yet?

Frowning, Dean switched back to Charlie's texts. There was nothing in them to indicate that anything important had happened, just the string of texts he'd missed the previous day when he'd been trying to meet up with them at the rally, and the one from this morning with the link.

Dean Winchester (11:52 AM): Charlie, why would Cain suggest I speak with you?

His phone pinged – another text from Ben.

Ben Winchester (11:54 AM): Next time warn me I'm like the most popular guy on campus right now and first thing this morning when it started I had no idea what was going on. Alex had to stab some chick in the dining hall with a fork cause she was all over me even after I said no. Apparently it's damn sexy to have an activist for dad.

Dean Winchester (11:55 AM): I'm not an activist.

His phone pinged again – Charlie. His head spun a little trying to keep track of the different conversations.

Charlie Bradbury (11:56 AM): Cain didn't tell you?

Dean Winchester (11:56 AM): Obviously not.

Charlie Bradbury (11:57 AM): I emancipated Anna. Thought I'd join in the fun. Didn't you watch the video I sent?

Dean Winchester (11:58 AM): Um yeah but there was nothing about it?

There was no answer from her, but another message came from Ben.

Ben Winchester (11:58 AM): You are so an activist and it's awesome. I'm gonna be like you, dad. Alex and I are gonna kick the system in the junk!

Dean Winchester (11:59 AM): You do that, son. You do that.

Two pings sounded nearly simultaneously.

Charlie Bradbury (12:00 PM): Shit I sent the wrong video watch this one instead. watch?345sd3

Dean clicked the link.

A shaky video taken from somewhere near the fountain zoomed in and out, the focus shifting, and then it focused on the cluster of people and half-being that had surrounded Dean and Castiel. The group parted and Dean and Castiel left. The person holding the camera flipped it around. It was a young man who looked like a stereotypical millennial, young, a little mussed, a little unfocused, but smiling benignly at the camera. For some reason he'd worn a bathrobe to the protest, and his eyes had the slightly unfocused look of a decent high.

"Yo, big news at the rally, some guy just stuck his tongue down a half-octopus' mouth and then announced he was freeing the halfling," said the man. "Damn cool shit, that. I'm in. My name's Andy Gallagher, this here is my halfling Azazel." He panned the camera briefly to show a glowering golden-scaled merman. "I'm emancipating him and the state of California can suck my left one."

"Oh – oh, me next!" Another person jumped into the camera frame, a young woman, grabbed Andy's hand and pulled the camera closer to her. "I'm Ava Wilson, this here is my half-octopus Hester—"

"Hiya!" said the half-octopus, sticking her head into the frame.

"—and I'm freeing her, too, effective immediately."

"Dude, I'm in!"

"I'm freeing Bart!"

"They can't arrest all of us, right?"

More and more people chimed in, more and more halflings beamed and humans grinned and everyone exchanged handshakes. Andy brought himself back into view. "There you've got it. Just try and stop us now, suckers. Peace out!"

Dean hit the back button when the video ended and saw he had several texts from Charlie that had come while he was watching.

Charlie Bradbury (12:01 PM): There are hundreds of videos like this on youtube already and more posted all the time.

Charlie Bradbury (12:02 PM): I bet yours won't be the only legal challenge to actually hit courts.

Charlie Bradbury (12:04 PM): So even if your case isn't the one that makes it to the top – congrats Dean you've changed the world.

"Is everything okay?"

Dean started. Castiel had emerged from the side room housing the pool and stood framed in the doorway, water dripping from his hair and beading down his beautiful bare chest.

"Yeah, Castiel," said Dean with a smile. "Everything is awesome."

Castiel smiled, uninhibited, beautiful, caring, and Dean's hearts swelled.

"Totally fricken awesome," he repeated, awed in truth.

Dean had no idea what he'd ever done to deserve to be this happy, but he wasn't about to complain. He'd worked hard his whole damn life. Maybe things were finally coming up Winchester.

"Dean," Castiel whispered in his ear, voice hot and heavy.

Their date had gone well, and ended with a pretty heavy make out session on the couch. They'd gotten to second base before Dean's conscience kicked in and they'd stopped.

"Yeah, Castiel?" replied Dean, leaning back on the bed, his heart racing.

The drive home had also gone well. No one had pulled them over. No one had arrested them. No one, neither police nor media, had been waiting outside of Dean's home. Based on what Cain told them, that was because the journalists assumed that Dean would stay in Washington DC a bit longer. The truth would catch up with Dean soon, Cain warned, and when it did they were unlikely to get any peace for some time.

"Is this okay?" asked Castiel, snaking a tentacle around Dean's waist, using his fingers to undo the buttons on Dean's shirt.

They should enjoy their last shreds of privacy while they could, Cain suggested. A week had passed since then, an eerie calm before the storm. Dean went back to work, repaired a lovely old Ford truck, took Castiel the library, wondered why the police had come to arrest him, wondered why the press hadn't descended on him en masse. His phone filled with voice mails and text messages but, for now, he ignored all the ones that were from unfamiliar numbers. He and Castiel needed the time to readjust and to explore their new relationship.

"Yeah," Dean encouraged. A tentacle, skin slightly rubbery, slipped beneath his undershirt and rubbed at Dean's flesh, and he shivered. "Yeah, this is good."

Dean fully intended to do so. Castiel had happily acquiesced. They'd gone on long walks, planned an expansion for the pool, talked to Nora about adjusting Castiel's pay, gotten Castiel a library card, and Dean had taught Castiel how to drive. They'd spent every waking minute together, Castiel getting the time he needed in salt water while Dean was at work and in the middle of the night. That, Dean would say, was his greatest regret. Castiel couldn't spend the night with him, not without risk of drying out too much, and Dean couldn't spend the night with Castiel, not without risk of drowning. After snuggling close to Castiel on the couch for hours, watching TV and lazily kissing each other drunk, getting into a cold, empty bed sucked. Thus far, though both had considered the problem, neither had come up with a solution.

"Tell me how—" Dean wrapped a hand around one of Castiel's cocks and the halfling's jaw fell open, words breaking into a gravelly groan. Uncertain how to proceed, Dean stroked the fattening head gently in a loose grip. With another swallowed groan, Castiel continued, voice husky, "Tell me how to pleasure you." He undid the final button and pulled Dean's shirt away. The tentacle around Dean's waist rucked his undershirt up, and cool air blew over Dean's belly.

"Nipples," Dean suggested. He rubbed a suggestive thumb over one of Castiel's smooth, hairless pectorals, over the spot where Castiel's nipple would be if he had one.

"What?" asked Castiel blankly. Dean chuckled and used the hand to guide Castiel's tentacle to his chest. A sucker found the sensitive skin, tensed, and Dean's eyes rolled back in his head as a shocking amount of pleasure billowed outwards. "Ah. Nipples. Nipples seem like a good thing."

"Yes, I—"

Something grabbed his cock.

Holy shit, when had Castiel even gotten Dean's pants open? With eight tentacles, two arms, and a body to fricken die for, it was impossible for Dean to keep track of everywhere he was being touched. It was wonderful and overwhelming and blissful and a little terrifying.

"And you like having your penis touched as well, correct?" Castiel stroked him roughly.

"Yes," Dean managed in strangled tones.

"Good," Castiel huffed against Dean's neck, kissing down the curve of his shoulder.

Dean's hand had gone still in its stroking, his other arm lay limp against the bed, his head thrown back, legs unmoving. Shame filled him as he realized he was allowing Castiel to do all the work but it was hard to reciprocate under the onslaught of sensations. It wasn't just the many touches, though those were glorious. After their first date they'd realized that, when they were skin to skin, Castiel's empathy bled into Dean's head and he grew tantalizingly aware of the halflings pleasure as well as his own.

Right now, entangled together, crushed beneath Castiel's weight, enfolded by his embrace, the extra emotions were astonishingly intense, almost too much for Dean.

Castiel jerked back. "Dean, do you need—"

"No!" Dean burst out. Even a few inches between them felt like too much. He'd waited so long for this. Castiel eased back against him hesitantly. "Please don't stop, Cas – Castiel. Please…"

"You may call me Cas," the halfling offered with a toothy smile. He leaned down, tentacle stilling on Dean's cock, easing against Dean's nipples, and kissed him gently, repeatedly, until they both relaxed again.

"May I take your clothes off?" Castiel murmured at length.

"Fuck yeah," Dean replied fervently.

Castiel rolled onto his back. Startled, Dean started to protest, but he stopped when tentacles wrapped around his wrists, his ankles, his waist, and hoisted him effortlessly into the air. A dozen or more fantasies sprang to instant life and Dean went limp in Castiel's hold. With deft movements, his clothes were stripped off, and Castiel grinned up at him shyly as he held Dean aloft. Unoccupied tentacles caressed the revealed skin and Dean was fucking lost. Every touch was euphoric, every gesture was intoxicating, every happy glance from Castiel sent Dean soaring into the sky.

"How're you so perfect?" Dean whispered, his voice echoing oddly. Bemused, he looked into Castiel's eyes and realized the halfling had asked the same question at the same time.

"You sure you can't read my mind?" asked Dean with a smirk.

"You're so beautiful, Dean," Castiel continued as if Dean hadn't spoken. "You've done so much for me. I feel like I've never done anything for you in return." Shifting his hold, Castiel supported Dean with the thick, strong, lower part of his tentacles, freeing the tips to explore Dean's body. Every fold of skin, every joint, every sensitive place was probed, poked, rubbed, and suctioned on to. "I want to learn every way there is to make you feel good." Dean spasmed, movements involuntary as stimulation bombarded him. Breathy moans escaped him at every breath, though Dean couldn't have said if he were the one making those sounds or if Castiel was. Inundated as he was, it hardly mattered; the enticing noises combined with his arousal to drive him higher still. His cock bucked and leaked, strained and throbbed against the tentacle that wrapped around it. Castiel didn't bother to stroke; he let the double row of suction cups do the work, clasping and releasing, suctioning and tugging and massaging.

"Gonna…gonna come if you keep doing that," Dean gasped.

"That is the human slang term for orgasm?" Castiel asked.

"Yes – fuck, yes!"

"And would it be a problem if you…came…?" Castiel moved him, manipulated him, brought Dean's head down so that the question was whispered directly in his ear in a tone of voice that almost induced orgasm without any other help.

"Human's don't—" A tentacle wriggled between his cheeks and Dean nearly passed out. "Holy shit, Cas – yes – yes, please..."

"Human's don't what, Dean?" Suction cups clasped onto the sensitive skin of his perineum, his balls, and Dean whimpered. "Answer me."

"Human men can't usually come repeatedly," Dean burst out all at once. "If I finish so quickly we might have to stop."

"Can't usually? Might have to stop?" repeated Castiel pensively. "I think this calls for extensive testing. You seem very…" He trailed off and teased at Dean's balls, poked and prodded them, elicited sounds from Dean he'd never made before and would never, ever admit to making again. "Very sensitive down here. Will you come if I keep this up?"

Fucking hell, he doesn't know. He doesn't realize what I want.

"Yes, but that's not what I…" Suction cups puckered his nipples and Dean jerked against Castiel's hold. The restraint was unbelievable hot, too. Dean had never been tied down before. He'd really missed out. Dizziness and arousal threatened to fucking kill him. "Dammit, Cas, lemme get out a sentence."

All stimulation ceased. The tentacles didn't leave his body, didn't cease touching him, but they stopped moving. Breathing hard, Dean tried to gather his scattered wits, but it was impossible. Every thought screamed for Castiel to resume caressing him.

"Well, Dean? I'm waiting…" Castiel fucking smirked.

"You're kind of an asshole," Dean grumbled.

"That would be…" A tentacle poked at Dean's hole and he gasped. "…this body part, right? You'll forgive me – my people do not excrete in this fashion."

Though twilight darkened the room, Dean's vision flared brilliant incandescent colors.

"Right there," he whispered fervently.

That, at least, brought Castiel up short. "I don't understand."

"Fuck me, Cas," Dean pleaded. "Wanna feel your…your hectocot…your hect…fucking hell, I wanna feel your cock in my ass. Please."

"That…" Castiel stared at him wide-eyed, licked his lips. His gaze flicked down to Dean's leaking cock, trailed up Dean's tentacle-enwrapped chest, and returned to meet Dean's eyes. "That would feel good? You'd like that?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? I've been fricken dreaming of that for years!"

"Ok…ok." The brave, confident front that Castiel had maintained crumbled. He blushed, hesitated, looked at Dean, looked away. "You're sure?" he whispered.

He acts so adult, so often, that it's hard to forget he's young and a…

"Cas, are you a virgin?"

Castiel snagged his lip between his teeth and nodded, face turned away from Dean's. He wanted to reach out, turn Castiel's head back so that their eyes met once more, offer reassurance, but despite Castiel's newfound bashfulness, he still held Dean tightly, suspended, tentacles around his arms and legs and torso.

"Look at me," Dean demanded. Shyly, the halfling turned. Purple blushed Castiel's cheeks and torso. His eyes glowed faint blue in the dusky darkness of the room. "I am absolutely sure I want this. I've imagined being with you more times than I can say." Shame bubbled in his thoughts, but he tamped it down. "I wouldn't lie about something like this."

"I know you wouldn't," Castiel whispered. "I didn't think you would. I just…" The tentacles holding Dean in the air lowered, brought Dean down to rest atop Castiel, chest to chest, lips to lips. Dean pulled his knees up, straddling where Castiel's hips would be, where Castiel's lower torso shaded to dark red and branched into eight thick tentacles. Castiel's body pivoted at an angle no human could achieve and tentacles enfolded Dean from all sides, cradled him like he was precious, and Castiel's arms wrapped tenderly around Dean's shoulders.

"It's okay, Castiel," Dean reassured him, kissing him gently. "It's—"

The tip of a thick tentacle slid down Dean's crack and rubbed at his hole, interrupting him. The nubby head pressed in, spreading him slightly, and Dean whimpered, rocked his hips back and up, desperate for more. It had been so damn long since he'd been with anyone. He'd forgotten how fricken incredible it felt when the stimuli came from another person. Sex was nothing like masturbating, nothing like stroking his own dick or working an inadequate finger or two into his own ass. Castiel's cock pressed steadily into his body and Dean's jaw dropped, his eyes rolled shut, all he could do was feel and it was glorious, amazing, and—

"Stop," he croaked as pain jolted through him. Castiel froze and a wave of guilt washed over Dean nauseatingly.

Is that how it feels for him every time I feel bad about something? No wonder my emotional state can make him so unhappy!

The tentacle started to withdraw.

"Wait, Cas – wait, just hold it in place. Gimme a bit to adjust," Dean explained hastily.

"Okay," Castiel breathed huskily, easing his cock back in. Generous amounts of slick oozed from Castiel's hectocotylus; even the slight thrust helped to lubricate Dean and ease the way. Castiel slid in a little further than he had before, and stopped as soon as Dean's body resisted. The tentacle wiggled, spread more lubricant around, caused bright flashes of bliss-turned-light to stain Dean's vision.

Pleasure suffused Dean's body, suffused Castiel's mind, and Dean had no idea which of them felt what but he knew that, as much good sex as he'd had in his life, he'd never felt this good. Castiel's cock seemed endless, though the portion of his tentacle that formed his hectocotylus was not significantly longer than a human male cock. Thicker, yes, but not longer. Yet, as Castiel slid millimeter by millimeter into Dean's ass, he seemed impossibly long, and the breadth of his cock spread Dean wider and wider, rim tingling at the stimulation. Each time Castiel eased out slightly and pushed in deeper, a breathy whine of pleasure escaped Dean.

Abruptly, the thickest part of Castiel's cock filled him and with a weird sucking sensation Dean took several more inches at once. His ass clenched and fluttered at the sudden slackness, the reduction in pressure within him, and Castiel groaned deeply, sound vibrating through Dean.

"Dean," the halfling whispered. He sounded lost and unsure and absolutely perfect.

"Fuck me, Castiel," Dean encouraged him, resting his arms on either side of Castiel's torso, lifting his ass towards the tentacles that bound him.

"Dean…Dean…Dean…"

The air between them was hot and humid. The room filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the slick drag of Castiel's cock inside of Dean's body. There was no slap of flesh against flesh, only the wet noise as Castiel's oozing flowed freely, coating Dean inside and out, seeping free to slime hot liquid along his thighs. If Dean hadn't been so turned on, he'd probably have found the mess gross, but instead it felt…it felt good, right, with Castiel steadily sinking deeper into him, Dean felt gloriously owned and filthy in the best possible way.

"Dean…Dean…"

Each stroke was slow and tender as Castiel pumped in and out. He never withdrew far – the thick section of the cockhead never breached Dean's ass again. Castiel kept it buried in Dean's body, rubbing over his prostate over and over. Dean was pretty sure his eyes were closed but it wouldn't have mattered if they hadn't been. All he could see was bliss in a rainbow of colors that somehow all were glowing teal and lovely purple and gorgeous burgundy and endless navy blue. His body reacted without his mind offering any conscious direction: hips rocked back into every thrust, lips whispered incoherent pleas against Castiel's cheek, cock rubbed against the rubbery-slick flesh at the junction of two of Castiel's tentacles. He wrapped on arm around Castiel's head, buried his fingers in the halfling's coarse hair, and breathed hot passion directly into Castiel's ear as Castiel continued to chant his name like a prayer.

"Dean…"

Tentacles wrapped around Dean's body, gentle, not rubbing or moving, every suction cup grabbing on and releasing like a thousand kisses scattered across his over-sensitized skin. Castiel's cock writhed within him, rubbed and pressed and pleasured. Dean could hardly breathe, he felt so fucking good, and then the building tension snapped, and with a sigh of "oh, fuck, Castiel…" Dean came, semen coating the narrow channel he'd slid his cock into. His ass clenched around Castiel's cock, multiplied the pressure against his prostate tenfold, a hundredfold, and he groaned as dick stuttered, bucked, spewed another stream of come.

"De…D…"

Castiel's chest arched against Dean's body as the halfling tensed against the bed. Somehow, Castiel swelled inside him and jerked his hectocotylus back hard. Dean's rim strained, stretched, but Castiel thickened and thickened and then held, Dean's body unable to give enough for the engorged tentacle to win free. Some frantic, overstimulated part of Dean's mind kicked into panic mode, fearing pain, but there was none. Instead, he felt insanely, impossibly good, out-of-control good, and he writhed and bucked and whimpered and wiggled to rub that thickness against his insides. Dean's cock surged out another wave of hot pleasure, a few pathetic drops of come won free, and guttural noises leaked from his throat. With a ragged cry, another, another, Castiel flexed within Dean, swelled and deflated and swelled again. Castiel's hands found their way to Dean's ass cheeks, tentacles wrapped around his thighs, and Castiel pivoted Dean's hips down, forced Dean to move as Castiel needed.

"Pl…D…please…Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…" Dean wasn't sure if Castiel was actually saying his name; every desperate heaving pant the halfling made as he fucked into Dean's body sounded like a plea and Dean shook and trembled at the continued stimulation. Pressure against his prostate burned fire and ice through him, tears leaked from his eyes, and if he could have found words he'd have begged Castiel to stop, begged Castiel to never ever fucking stop.

There was a pulse of intense pressure, a burst of heat, and then fucking molten pure pleasure flooded Dean's body. Castiel went lax beneath him, the tentacles surrounding Dean went limp, and Castiel came so copiously that Dean could feel the liquid swelling him, pushing deeper and deeper into his body. A little leaked free but most couldn't ooze past the swollen part of Castiel's cock that was caught in Dean's body. Gasping moans at every breath, Dean wormed a hand between their bodies to press against his belly. He could fucking feel the heat surging within him, feel how strangely stiff his insides were getting. Fuck whether it should feel good or not; it should be biologically impossible.

Except it was happening.

And it felt absolutely, utterly incredible.

"Holy shit," he whispered, shuddering, rubbing his palm against the heated spot. Pleasure billowed outward. Castiel whimpered and squirmed beneath him, beyond words, cock still swelling with liquid and then compressing as he released more and more come into Dean's body.

Finally, finally, the deluge stopped.

Dean was hard again.

For a breathless moment, they lay still and Dean tried to work his hand down to stroke his erection.

Then the world flipped.

Dean was on his back. Castiel was over him. With a burst of blinding pressure that bordered into painful, Castiel's hectocotylus pulled free of Dean's ass, hot liquid flooding out to make a sodden spot on the sheets. Dean was empty, achingly, agonizingly empty, frigid air blowing over his hot, leaking hole…and then with a flash of rapturous bliss he was full again.

Two cocks. Holy fucking hell how could I forget that Castiel has two cocks?

Where they'd started gently, slowly, tenderly before, there was nothing soft or kind to their joining now. Their first time had been making love; this was fucking: rough, loud, dirty, fast, and no less mind-blowing. Dean forced his eyes open; Castiel looked like an animal over him, eyes shining with phosphorescence, tentacles binding Dean to the bed, hair making a wild, mussed halo about his head. His second cock seemed even larger than the first, and fricken sloshed as he fucked Dean's come-filled body ruthlessly, relentlessly. The pleasure was so numbing that Dean could do nothing but lie there and take it; he tingled from fingertip to scalp to the soles of his feet and didn't attempt to think, didn't attempt to help, didn't attempt to repress the noises that left him. A low growl permeated the air and Dean honestly had no fricken idea which of them made the noise. He was past caring. Bliss rose like a damn tidal wave, crashed around him, and he'd have thought he had come except that the feeling didn't fucking stop. Castiel fucked into him, thrust and thrust and thrust and thrust, deeper and deeper, and Dean thrashed against his tentacle restraints as he drowned, enraptured.

Well, at least he'd die happy.

Sharp teeth nipped at his neck, suckers pulled at his skin, nails dug into his shoulders, and Castiel fucked him on and on, hard, but he couldn't pull his hectocotylus out. His cock swelled, swelled, tugged so hard at Dean's rim that Dean strained to contain him. Pain had ceased to be distinguishable from pleasure, and Dean cried out hoarsely as bliss crested again, and then Castiel was locked into his body, shuddering and groaning through his second climax, pumping Dean even more full of hot come.

It was finally too much feeling.

Dean blacked out.

"Dean?" The word, meaningless, came to Dean from far away, faint and worried, broken and hoarse. "Dean, are you alright?"

Worry seeped into his thoughts.

Castiel. He's talking to me. He's worried about me.

I have to comfort him. I have to be here for him.

"I'm good," Dean croaked. He wasn't sure how intelligible he was, but relief replaced the worry, and he figured dazedly that whatever Castiel had heard was adequate to reassure him.

"Tha' wa'z'mazing," added Dean, sounds slurring together.

There was heat all around him, enveloping his body, filling him. A tickling reminded him that Castiel's cock was still locked in his body, and he didn't care. He felt glorious, replete and sated and fantastic.

God, they'd been stupid to wait years to do this.

"Gotta do tha', like, loads'more."

"Yes," Castiel breathed heady agreement. "I love you so much, Dean."

"Love you," wheezed Dean. Awareness of his body slowly returned. Aches had already formed, and his thighs and ass were sticky with liquid. Dull pleasure pounded a drumbeat behind his eyes, and Castiel was a heavy weight over him, pressing him into the mattress with every breath. Yeah, he could really get used to this. Except… "Think we ruined the sheets," he managed, bursting of pride at how clearly he managed to enunciate.

Castiel laughed, warm and rich and guttural and sinful and Dean felt a trickle of renewed warmth in his body, as if he could possibly get it up a third time after how intense the first two orgasms had been.

He was already used to this, and it was the best thing that had happened to him in a long, long time.

Endnote: So...believe it or not, this is the bulk of the story. I've got one to two more chapters to go (just depends how long stuff gets) and they're going to basically be a series of time stamps...smutty, smutty time stamps...that resolve the major plot points, since a lot of what's left to happen will take years to fully resolve.

So, dear readers - unlike with SextersAnon and Pitchers and Catchers, where I offered to write timestamps at some indefinite point in the future...I'm writing these now. Or, rather, starting tomorrow. I think if you've been reading along you can make some reasonable guesses what kind of events I'll be covering, but if there's something you think I really should do, please feel free to chime in. I cannot promise to integrate all the ideas but I will absolutely take them into consideration. :)

Thanks so much for reading - my goal is to have this story completely done by Oct 31st, so I can embark on NaNoWriMo on Nov 1st without this hanging over my head. :)