Warnings: Minor references to child abuse and self harm. They're very brief and definitely not the main focus of the chapter. Also, take note of the new rating. This chapter is extremely NSFW.

Many thanks to NeteleJala, gnbrules, Eyum daRelmera, and Kathy for taking the time to share their thoughts. Also an extra shout out to Eyum daRelmera for sending me a hilarious Tumblr post which inspired part of this chapter (although probably not in the way you expected). =)

Chapter Eleven

They didn't stay out late Monday night. By the time they left the theater they were both buzzing with anticipation, and one look dispelled any thoughts of stopping somewhere for dinner. They drove back to Castiel's place in silence, Dean's free hand stroking Castiel's thigh almost absentmindedly, always stopping just short of actual groping.

Missouri looked up from her knitting as they came through the door. "You're early. How was the movie?"

"It was … good." Castiel felt his cheeks warm under her knowing gaze. Truthfully he couldn't have explained the plot if his life depended on it. They hadn't fooled around in the dark theater, hadn't even kissed, but about halfway through the previews Dean had put his head on Castiel's shoulder, and after that it was all a happy blur. He'd never thought of cuddling as a form of foreplay, but the citrus scent of Dean's shampoo and the warm, reassuring weight of the other man overwhelmed his senses as thoroughly as a passionate kiss. "Is Claire asleep?"

Missouri's look got even more knowing. "Uh huh. She was a darling as always. I'll get out of your hair now so you can enjoy the rest of your evening."

Castiel's face was burning now. He wasn't the least bit ashamed of what he and Dean were obviously planning to do as soon as they were alone, but no one wanted their grandmother to know the intimate details of their love life. "Thank you, Missouri. We'll see you tomorrow night."

On her way to the door she patted Dean's arm and murmured something Castiel couldn't quite make out. He gave Dean a questioning look as the door closed behind her. Dean shrugged, his own cheeks more than a little pink too. "She said, 'You be good to him. He's a keeper.' I think it was her version of the hurt-him-and-I'll-kill-you speech."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Castiel said with a smile. "And she'd get away with it too. Who would suspect a harmless old lady?"

"Mmm." Dean stepped in close and slipped an arm around Castiel's waist. "Good thing I'm not planning to hurt you then."

Castiel looked into those green eyes and saw absolute honesty, and he suddenly felt warm for a very different reason. He put his arms around Dean's neck and drew the man into a kiss. There was no teasing this time, and if Dean had been a good kisser before, it was nothing compared to the way he kissed when he wasn't holding back. This was hands down the best kiss Castiel had ever had in his life. It aroused him and calmed him simultaneously. He felt light and free but also grounded and safe. Any first time nerves he had still been harboring disappeared, and he knew that he would give himself to Dean completely and without hesitation, body and soul, secrets and scars. Dean would never hurt him. Dean would only make it better.

Breaking away from the kiss was the last thing he wanted to do, but there was one thing that could override lust every time and that was the need of a parent to see with their own eyes that their child was safe. "I should check on Claire," he said breathlessly. "Make sure she's actually asleep and not waiting up for me. Um … My bedroom is the first door on the right."

Dean nodded and kissed him on the forehead. "Don't take too long," he said teasingly. "I might start without you."

Castiel's brain short circuited for a moment from that mental image, and Dean laughed at the look on his face and shoved him gently toward Claire's room.

Claire was sleeping deeply, her nose buried in the threadbare fur of her stuffed cat, inhaling the comfort of its familiar scent. Castiel brushed her hair off her face and kissed her cheek, praying that there would be no bad dreams tonight for both their sakes.

Dean was sitting on the foot of Castiel's bed. He had taken off his shoes but nothing else. "Good," Castiel said, locking the door behind him just in case. "I've been waiting weeks for a chance to undress you with more than just my eyes."

Dean smirked. "Yeah, I had a feeling you'd want to do that part. One question before I forget. How quiet do we need to be?"

"As long as we're not yelling at the top of our lungs, we should be fine. This building has thick walls, and she's a deep sleeper unless she has a nightmare." Castiel toed out of his shoes and socks and approached the bed.

Dean's eyes tracked his every move, pupils already dilated. They came to rest on Castiel's face as Castiel knelt between Dean's knees and ran his hands reverently up those long, strong legs. When he reached Dean's hips, he let his fingers dip tentatively under the hem of his shirt, watching Dean's face for any sign of nervousness or hesitation. For some people being naked was no big deal, and for others it was the biggest hurdle in a new relationship. Dean gave a slight nod and lifted his arms to let Castiel pull the shirt up and off.

Dean had a tattoo. That was the first thing Castiel noticed. A five point star in a ring of flames just below his left collarbone. Castiel had never had a tattoo kink, or at least he hadn't thought he did, but his rapidly swelling cock definitely twitched at the sight of that ink under Dean's skin. "Souvenir of a misspent youth?" he asked, tracing it with his fingertip.

"Something like that," Dean chuckled, but even though he didn't tense up or pull away, Castiel could tell that this, like the car, was a story Dean wasn't ready to tell. So he kissed the tattoo worshipfully, and then he moved on down the hard, muscled planes of Dean's chest.

When he drew a nipple into his mouth, Dean groaned. He experimentally bit it a little harder, and Dean convulsed, pushing his chest into Castiel's face and tangling his fingers in Castiel's hair, an inarticulate moaning whine issuing from his throat. Castiel grinned. He had found his first sweet spot, and he hoarded the information greedily, determined to learn every inch of Dean's body by heart until he could reduce the man to a moaning, writhing, needy mess in seconds if he wanted to.

He spent some time on each nipple, and when they were both reddened and sensitized enough that it was toeing the line between pleasure and pain, he trailed sloppy, open mouthed kisses down Dean's stomach. Despite his impressive upper body strength, the man had a little bit of pudge. He wasn't fat by any means, but he clearly indulged in the sensual pleasure of food, unsurprising given his chosen profession, and wasn't so vain as to worry about a couple extra pounds if they weren't dangerous to his health. Castiel pressed his face into the soft layer of pillowy comfort over the hard muscle. Another kink he hadn't known he had until that moment, or maybe it was just that everything about Dean was a turn on by association.

"Lie back," he said as he began unbuttoning Dean's jeans.

Dean obeyed, folding his hands behind his head and stretching out on Castiel's bed like he belonged nowhere else. That snapped the last tenuous thread of Castiel's self control, and he suddenly needed to have Dean naked in his bed five fucking minutes ago. He yanked off Dean's jeans and boxers in one move, threw them aside as though they offended him, and without further preamble took Dean's fully erect cock in his mouth.

"Fuck," Dean gasped, and his hips twitched under Castiel's restraining hands.

Castiel breathed through his nose, relaxed his throat, and went as deep as he could. God, it had been way too long since he'd done this. He'd forgotten how much he liked it. Dean liked it too judging by the litany of "fuck" and "Cas" and "so good" coming from above Castiel's head. He looked up through his lashes, but Dean wasn't watching him. His head was tipped back into the mattress, the thick column of his throat working furiously as he gasped for air, his hands fisting the blankets under him, completely lost in the pleasure Castiel was giving him.

Castiel's own raging erection, still trapped in his jeans, gave a warning throb. This was going to send him over the edge just as fast as it was sending Dean. He pulled off but stayed close, laying soft, reassuring kisses on the insides of Dean's thighs until the other man came down enough to raise his head and look at Castiel with a mixture of frustrated confusion and awe.

"That was going to be over way too fast for my liking," Castiel explained.

Dean huffed with equal parts amusement and embarrassment. "Well, it ain't my fault you give the best blowjob in the history of blowjobs. How's a guy supposed to control himself while you're sucking his brains out like that?"

"Quite understandable," Castiel said smugly. "Which is why we're going to save that for another time." He was long past worrying about assumptions. They both knew that one time wouldn't be enough. He placed one last kiss on Dean's stomach, right beside his wet cock, then stood up and reached for the collar of his own shirt, preparing to pull it over his head.

Dean suddenly sat up and caught his hands. "Hey. Fair's fair. It's my turn."

Castiel smiled and let Dean undress him. He didn't look away when Dean discovered the tiny, perfectly round scars of cigarette burns on his chest and stomach, the layered scars on his thighs made by his own hand in his dark teenage years. He had long ago come to terms with these things. They weren't pretty, but they didn't make him ugly either. They were only a small part of him, and they didn't define how he saw himself. He wouldn't let them. Besides, he already knew Dean wouldn't care.

Calloused fingertips skimmed gently over the scars, and something sad crossed Dean's face for a moment, but it wasn't pity, and when he kissed Castiel, he didn't do it carefully as though Castiel was fragile and needed Dean's protection. He kissed him like an equal, like a lover, giving and taking at the same time.

Suddenly Castiel's feet left the floor and he was tossed bodily onto the bed. He barely had time to recover from the shock (and overwhelming hotness) of being picked up and thrown as if he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes before Dean was crawling up the bed towards him, practically stalking him. "I believe," Dean purred darkly right next to his ear, "I promised to make you beg. And you should know I'm a man of my word."

"Go on then," Castiel said, a calculated challenge in his tone. "Give it your best shot."

Dean pulled back and looked at him, his gaze scorching hot and hungry. Castiel wanted to start begging right then, but he kept his cool, at least on the outside. "Lube?" Dean said.

"Bedside table drawer."

Dean retrieved it, then came back to kneel between Castiel's legs. It was not lost on Castiel that their positions had completely reversed. "Do you have a preference?"

He shrugged as best he could in his prone position. "Not with you. I trust you." He'd had a few boyfriends who he would allow to fuck him only when hell froze over. Patience wasn't just a virtue in a top. It was a necessity. At least it was if you wanted both parties to actually enjoy the experience.

Dean grinned, poured some lube onto his hand, and reached behind himself.

"Your preference?" Castiel asked, doing his best to ignore the way his cock literally ached to be inside Dean right now.

"It is tonight. I'm still way too close thanks to your un-fucking-believable mouth. I'll last longer this way."

"Want a hand?" Castiel's hands were already running up Dean's thighs, reaching around to his ass, but Dean chuckled and shuffled backwards so he was just out of reach.

"Uh uh. You just lie there and look pretty. I'll do all the work."

He took his time just like he'd said he would, but Castiel had thought that would at least involve some touching. Dean didn't even touch himself. His erection wilted a little as he concentrated on stretching and relaxing, but he did nothing to reawaken it. Castiel was granted no such reprieve. He remained insistently hard the entire time.

Finally Dean pulled his fingers out, added a little more lube to them, and took Castiel in hand. The contact after going untouched for so long was electric. He couldn't have controlled his reaction if he'd tried. His ass left the bed as he thrust up into Dean's slick fingers. They were hot from being deep inside Dean's body where Castiel so desperately needed to be. "Please. Oh, fuck. Please, Dean." Later he would be duly impressed that Dean had indeed made him beg and had done it with just one touch. Right now complex thoughts like that were a bit beyond him.

"There you are," Dean murmured as he maneuvered into position straddling Castiel's hips. When he began to sink down, still going maddeningly slowly, Castiel lost any semblance of coherent thought. It seemed to take a decade to get all the way in, and nothing existed but that hot, tight hole swallowing him one torturous inch at a time. He knew when he grazed Dean's prostate because every muscle in Dean's body relaxed, and he slid the rest of the way in like a key fitting to a lock, like coming home at the end of a long night and breathing a sigh of relief that he could finally just be.

Dean didn't try to move right away. He just sat there on Castiel's cock, and Castiel rubbed his thighs, soothing the muscles which must already be aching from this position. They stared into each other's eyes for long minutes, reveling in the closeness, no clothes, no condoms, no need to act professional.

"Cas," Dean whispered, reaching out to cup his cheek.

"Dean." Castiel turned his face into the touch. "God, you feel … perfect."

"So do you. Haven't even come yet and this is already the best sex I ever had."

Castiel laughed, and Dean shuddered and moaned.

"Oh, fuck, that feels amazing. I could feel that inside me. I'm always gonna make you laugh when you're fucking me."

That made Castiel laugh again. "Yeah? Gonna tell me knock knock jokes in bed?"

"Uh huh. Dirty knock knock jokes. Knock knock."

"Who's there?" Castiel played along even though his cock felt like it might explode if he didn't move soon.

"A guy who really needs to get fucked right fucking now."

He would have laughed except Dean punctuated the last word with a roll of his hips and a hard clench, and all he could do was moan, "Dean."

Dean lifted up and slammed back down, hard and fast. Clearly he was done playing around. Castiel could get on board with that. On the next thrust, he lifted his hips to meet Dean halfway, and he must have hit the sweet spot if the noise Dean made was anything to go by. Using those noises as a guide, he found an angle that let him hit that spot almost every time.

Dean's hands were braced on Castiel's chest, pressing down so hard they might leave marks. Oh, he hoped so. He wished he could stay inside Dean forever, but eventually a warning tightness in his balls and a building pressure in his gut reminded him why that wasn't an option. Dean was close too, his cock leaking a steady stream of pre-come and twitching violently with every touch to his prostate. "Are you ready to come for me, Dean?" Castiel panted. "Do you need me to touch you?"

Dean shook his head and a few drops of sweat fell on Castiel's lips. He licked them away, and Dean's glazed eyes followed the tip of his tongue. Even consumed with his own pleasure, Dean was still focused on him, completely there with him.

"No?" Castiel prompted. "You think you can come on just my cock?"

"Yeah. So … uhhh, so close." Dean's rhythm faltered.

"Show me," Castiel breathed, completely mesmerized by the man above him. "Let me see you come, Dean." He fucked up into Dean a little harder to compensate for the other man's loss of muscle control.

Dean gave one last broken groan and spilled all over both of them. Castiel joined him seconds later, but his own orgasm was almost secondary to the pleasure of watching Dean fall apart because of him.

When Castiel came down, it was to Dean's lips already moving on his in a sweet afterglow kiss. He was more than happy to join in. Through a team effort they managed to get cleaned up and under the blankets without leaving each other's arms and seamlessly transitioned from sex to snuggling.

"I'm a little surprised," Dean said after a while.

With a tremendous effort, Castiel lifted his head and frowned at Dean accusingly.

"Not because it was good," Dean hurried to reassure him. "I knew that if you were even half as good at sex as you are at kissing, it was gonna make my top three, and did I mention best sex of my life?"

Castiel laughed and let himself sink back into the lazy stupor that always followed a really satisfying orgasm. "So what surprised you?"

"That you let me take control like that. I guess I thought you'd be more …"

"Dominant? Because of the way I am in the kitchen?" It wasn't the first time someone had made that assumption.

Dean must have heard the faint tone of annoyance because he quickly backtracked again. "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm an idiot sometimes. Can we just pretend I didn't say anything?"

"No." Castiel pushed himself up on his arm and looked at Dean. There was that animal wariness again. He really didn't like that look. He wanted to know who had taught Dean to be so scared of conflict, and then he wanted to give that person a punch in the face. "It's okay. I'm not mad at you," he said, stroking Dean's cheek and immediately feeling the other man relax again. "In fact I'm glad you brought it up because it's a conversation we probably should have had before this, but better late than never. Dean, I can …"

He paused, considering the best way to phrase this so it couldn't be misunderstood. Finally he said, "I can be more dominant if that's something you like. I draw the line at actually hurting you, but short of that I'll do anything that makes you feel good, and I will never judge you or lose respect for you because of your sexual preferences. But you should know that for myself I don't find power games at all arousing. At work I may be your superior, but everywhere else we are equals, and especially in this bed. I have absolutely no desire to dominate you. I just want to be allowed to touch you. And I don't want you to call me sir. I just want to hear you say my name."

"Cas," Dean obligingly whispered, his eyes darkening with renewed arousal.

"Mmm, yes. Just like that," Castiel purred and kissed the word from Dean's mouth.