When spring break arrives, Crowley and Castiel decide on spending the whole entire week together at Crowley's apartment.

With Castiel not traveling back to New York to see his family, and Crowley receiving a call from Sam informing him that his little brother would be busy with a prestigious internship at a law firm, their schedules were free.… Allowing for more…extreme recreational activities.

The moment Castiel arrives at Crowley's apartment he's told to strip and get to his knees. Unless they go out or something comes up, Castiel is not going to be allowed clothing for the next seven days. He also isn't going to be allowed to walk upright--and he'll have to crawl to get around.

Naturally Castiel turns hard at the picture of the next few days that Crowley paints for him. Even now, as he lowers himself to his hands and knees properly his cock bobs between his legs. The only ornaments on his body are the plug he always wears and the silver hoops of his nipple rings.

"You also won't be coming until the week is over." Crowley firmly informs him, and snaps a cock ring over Cas's swollen erection.

Castiel only manages a whimper in response.

Days one and two are mostly concentrated on Castiel sucking Crowley off, and then putting on a show for him by writhing on the floor and fingering himself open. When Crowley hands him an assortment of vibrators and dildos Castiel obliges by fucking himself with them—making sure to give Crowley a good view so he can see the way the toy sinks in and out of the slick, vise-like hole.

Days, three and four are devoted to some of the new lingerie Crowley has bought Cas. He fucks Cas after dressing him in various sets of silky, lacey panties, garters, stockings and skirts. There is added emphasis, of course, on Cas's sloppy, fucked out cunt. He starts to leak come out of his "pussy" and Crowley likes to shove larger and larger plugs inside to keep his release inside.

At this point Castiel has been driven almost near insane by his neglected cock. Though he's gone longer without coming, the fact that he's being constantly used and is always aroused has started to take its toll. He begs Crowley, humiliated on his hands and knees, desperate to be allowed the simple act of coming. He never uses his safeword though, and Crowley always repeats what he said at the beginning of the week—when all of this had started:

"If you're good for me I might let you come at the end of the week."

So he tries to choke down his whines, and instead concentrates on other things—like trying to clamp down and tighten his hole around Crowley as he is fucked, or bringing Crowley to near perfect completion as he blows him.

On the fifth and sixth days Crowley ties Castiel up in various positions that Castiel has to admit he didn't know were humanly possible. An enormous vibrating plug is slid into his "slutty-fuckhole" in order to "satisfy his need for cock". Crowley also places clamps on his nipples, connected by a thin metallic chain. The effect of this combined with his piercings has him practically tingling, his nipples hard, swollen nubs that sent wave after wave of electricity to his dick.

"I fucking love playing with those tits of yours, Cas." Crowley observes.

Castiel's retort is a very loud groan, muffled by a ball gag Crowley had decided to splurge on.

"Only the best for you, baby." Crowley playfully teases.

Cas whines at the nickname, but he still doesn't safeword out.

And Castiel is so busy, so thoroughly invested and involved in every order Crowley gives him, that it takes forever for him to realize that not once has he added the narration of his fantasies to what he and Crowley are doing.

Because he was living his fantasy.

On the seventh day Castiel wakes up to the sight of Crowley in between his legs, sucking his swollen, purpled cock, and fingering the inner walls of his hole—still come filled and tender.

"Oh, fuck fuck fuck." Castiel gasps, arching into the tightness around him. It's amazing, the ability to register snug wetness around his cock—especially in light of how long he had gone without it.

But the cockring is still on, and he still can't come. Damnit.

He groans out loud, needy and strung-out. The past week has left Castiel a fucked out mess—come coating his inner thighs, the rim of his hole red and pleasantly abused. His nipples are throbbing, hard and erect, shiny rings accentuating the peaks and his lips are pink and swollen from habitual kissing and sucking.

It's damn near tortuous, and borders on pain. He needs to come—Crowley promised, oh God please!

The rubber around his cock stops his release as planned, and just when he's about to give up and sob, Crowley rolls over, pulling his fingers and mouth off of Castiel with squelching pops.

"Ride me." Crowley merely states. "I want to see you fuck yourself down on my cock. Show me how much you love it, how much you want it in you."

Castiel sucks in a breath, straddling Crowley and reaching around to guide him into his inviting hole. It's easy to take Crowley now after everything, heck he could probably take two cocks if Crowley ever got over his dislike at sharing.

He bottoms out with a gasp, lips parted and wet, setting a fast pace—only task and desire to get Crowley off.

"That's it, Cas. Ride it. Tell me how much you love it."

"Love—love your cock inside me, Crowley."

"Mmmmm. What else?"

"I want it inside me always, don't care which end, just need it in me—Oh fuck!" Crowley hits that sweet spot inside of him and Cas recklessly follows suit, slamming himself up and down in order to get more pressure on that near perfect gland.

"Come, Cas. Come for me!" Hands work their way around his cock, flipping the clasp and giving him freedom. Cas screams, his whole world turning bright white, the image of Crowley underneath etched into his eyelids like a negative.

And Castiel knows, coming like that, Crowley can't help but follow quickly after.

When it's all over they lie together in bed, sheets tangled from all of their use. Castiel almost believes that this is one of his favorite parts—when Crowley holds him, tells him how good he's been, how much he means to him, how no one could ever compare to Castiel. These moments always became warm, contented memories that Cas would visit again and again when he was feeling sad.

"Is this okay? I know you're not the one who asked for this, Crowley…I hope you're okay with this…with what we have." Castiel's voice trails off, and he fiddles with the hem of one of the sheets clinging to him. His hands finally come to rest on Crowley's chest. He watches the steady rise and fall of it, and traces patterns and little circles on Crowley's skin with his fingers.

Crowley turns and presses a soft kiss to the top of Castiel's forehead, "Can I trust you with a secret?"

"Of course, Crowley." Castiel vows. He stretches, limbs stiff but satisfied.

"I've actually thought about it too, Cas. That is, I've thought about it before I met you…it's just… I was kinda afraid. I mean, half of the time I was worried about scaring you off, even with the vanilla, apple pie dating thing we had going…I was so freaking worried how you would react if I let myself go, told you to strip, turn around and show me that sweet ass of yours like I did today."

Castiel shivers, snuggling in closer to the heat of Crowley's body at the memory. "I think I would've had a panic attack…in a totally good way though" He amends.

Crowley smirks, almost smug, "I bet you would."

"Shut up." Castiel whines, but shyly grins back anyway. "So you're happy, Crowley? I haven't forced you to change you who are? You don't think I'm a freak?"

"Cas," Crowley says firmly, "College is all about experimentation. It's a rite of passage. For the last time—I actually wanted this too. Is that so hard to believe?"

"I guess not." He whispers back, a yawn escaping him as he stretches—falling into a contented sleep.

"Sleep well, Cas," Crowley murmurs, chin tucked onto the top of Castiel head, "I have big plans for us—tomorrow, and beyond that."