Vetala! Dean and Human! Castiel.

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Edited 1/15/23: Updated tags- Switch! Dean. Switch! Castiel. D/S elements. Fingering. Spanking.

Dean grimaced as he was shoved over, torso flat on a mostly empty desk. His belt was already undone, making it a simple matter for hands to shove his pants down his thighs as a foot knocked his feet farther apart. He took a deep breath, fingers gripping the desk's edge, trying to relax. It had been over a week, he wasn't exactly malleable at the moment.

A hand braced between his shoulder blades, the one miniscule warning he had before two fingers covered with lube stroked his entrance. Once the cold, slippery goo coated his pucker one of the fingers pushed inside him. Not far, just to the middle joint, and drew out again. Two fingers went in next, each gesture slow, calculated. Dean closed his eyes, not fighting the hand keeping him pinned. It wasn't really necessary, but he enjoyed it all the same. Just like he enjoyed this borderline taunting pace his lover was maintaining.

Those two fingers scissored him wider, waiting well passed the time when pain faded to guide in a third digit. Dean moaned, trying to push back onto them, only to have the hand still between his shoulder blades bear down. He wasn't exactly in an advantageous position, to say the least.

Hands still gripping the ornate desk had gone ridged, but now his nails began to go dark, strengthening and sharpening into talons. His eyes didn't open, not yet, though Dean knew if his hands had changed then they wouldn't be human anymore either, and his teeth wouldn't be far behind. His eyes were always the first to change when something sparked his instincts, be it hunger, temper, or arousal. They were green anyway, human, but they got brighter whenever his pupils became snake-like slits.

Warm lips pressed to the back of his neck as three digits spread him wider, stretching his muscles. A rough, gravelly voice rumbled in his ear, inquiring, "Ready?"

"Damn it Cas just fuck me already," he groaned.

The human at his back chuckled, lightly kissing his temple. After his fingers slowly drew out Dean heard the bottle opening again, more lube squirted out, the hand on his back sliding down. He grunted in surprise as thumbs, pressed against each other fingernail to fingernail, slid inside him. They weren't as big combined as three fingers at once, so what-

Dean gasped, a sound that came out almost as a hiss as his teeth sharpened into Vetala fangs. Oh gods he complained every time Castiel did this but it was always gave him a bizarre sense of discomfort and knee-buckling pleasure. His claws dug into the wood, a muffled keen in his throat as he was stretched even wider. Castiel didn't ease the pressure until Dean gave in and outright whimpered, a sound he hated making and his lover delighted in eliciting.

Thumbs eased back together, withdrawing from inside him. Dean barely had a chance to take a breath before something very clearly not a finger pushed inside him. He tried bucking his hips, impaling himself on his lover's cock, only to get a hand gripping the back of his neck to pin him down again. Dean groaned, settling for the annoying pace. It would speed up soon enough, he just hated slow.

Unfortunately Castiel was in a mood that Dean hated. A tormenting mood. He pushed all the way in, drew most of the way out, then all the way in again until groin tapped buttocks. It set his sharpened teeth on edge.

"Hurry up Cas," Dean bit out, talons raking deep grooves in the desk.

His answer wasn't long in coming, but it wasn't the one he wanted. Instead of picking up the pace Castiel pulled all the way out, the hand on Dean's neck tightening. Two sharp blows descended on his backside, one on each cheek, hard enough to undoubtedly leave handprints and possibly loud enough the secretary outside Castiel's office door heard. It would hardly be the most scandalous thing she'd ever picked up on, but that didn't make it any less embarrassing.

Only when the human was inside him again did the hand on his neck loosen its grip. He repeated the two, slow strokes before a hand settled on his hip, holding him steady. Dean shivered, fighting the urge to struggle and biting his lip to smother another outburst.

Penance paid, the sluggish pace was thrown to the wind. Talons dug into the desk, this time creating puncture marks as he fought to stay still. His lover had a delightful habit of managing to hit his prostate almost every time he went hilt-deep, something which brought him steadily closer to that blissful edge.

"Cas," he mumbled, eyes half open.

"Mn?"

"Cas, Cas...fuck Cas..."

The human chuckled, but didn't punish him this time. Their rules were far more lax here than in their bedroom anyway. Dean's breath was coming faster in his throat, eyes hazy as he got closer to climax, only to have them fly wide in dismay when his lover stopped yet again.

Still gripping the back of his neck Castiel pulled him upright, shoving him back against the nearest empty wall. Dean stumbled, barely keeping himself upright before his back hit polished wood. A hand tangled in his hair, a mouth descending upon his own hungrily. He shoved his pants farther down his legs as much as he was able, until he could kick them off. As soon as they were clear Castiel pulled away, guiding him sideways a few steps until he could lift him onto a narrow table, hands hooking under his thighs to keep them pulled apart. Dean barely had the time to flail and grab his shoulders for balance before his lover was inside him again, one hand gripping his hip while the other maintained a hold on his thigh.

Dean's talons dug into shoulders still shielded by a shirt and coat, his fangs ignored as Castiel kissed him yet again. This time the human had no interest in drawing things out, for which his lover was glad. Dean just had to kiss him back and enjoy the ride, only pulling away when he had to catch his breath. Castiel refocused his attention on his neck, nipping and sucking at the base of his throat. The Vetala might have protested, but the hand on his thigh had relocated to his cock. Every thrust inside him was mimicked with a stroke or a tug. He didn't last much longer after that.

At the last minute Dean buried his face in the human's shoulder, smothering the muffled cry he couldn't keep down. Castiel didn't push him away, he was too busy finishing his lover off and riding out his own orgasm. Dean dragged in ragged lungfuls of air as he caught his breath, keeping his nose buried in Castiel's neck, in the collar of his coat. The scent that had come to mean far more to him than a friend or companion. It was comforting, safe, made him feel that warm sensation in the general vicinity of his heart. He might have trouble admitting it, and he could no longer hide behind the fact that the state wouldn't recognize their form of marriage, but Castiel was nothing if not patient.

As the brunt of the muscle-liquefying orgasm eased Castiel carefully pulled away, pressing a hand to his cheek as he pulled out. Oh gods he might hate it when the human teased him but damn if it didn't make the climax more intense. It took a few seconds before he was able to focus on his partner's face. As he blinked things back into alignment Dean noticed things seemed vaguely less sharp, indication his eyes had returned to human. A glance at his nails showed they were also back to normal, and no doubt his teeth were much the same.

"Are you alright?"

"Shut up."

Castiel's lips twitched. He pulled away, keeping a hand on the Vetala's shoulder as he lurched to his feet. He didn't hover, but he kept an eye on Dean as he lurched around, picking up his clothes and dragging them back on. Once Dean had straightened, making sure he didn't look like he'd just gotten fucked in an office, the human stepped closer to him again.

Dean raised his eyebrows, but didn't protest as the human cupped his cheek and drew him into a tender kiss. "What's with you?" he muttered when Castiel had pulled away. The human wasn't usually quite so lovey-dovey during their middle-of-the-day romps.

Rather than answer Dean found a piece of folded paper being pressed into his hand, solemn cobalt eyes gazing into his face. He glanced at it, then stared at the human. "Seriously?"

Castiel tilted his head, brow knitting. "I don't understand. You need to feed, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I come here to tell you. Then you do whatever crap it is that tracks down people and makes 'em disappear. You never have them so soon."

"You also never wait this long. Especially if you have a pregnant family member who needs to feed more often."

Dean glared at him, but the human just kissed him again. This time it lasted until he relaxed, then returned it. He wanted to be angry, but Castiel was well-meaning. Maybe too well-meaning considering he ran the South Dakota chapter of the Men of Letters. Considering he was something of a ruthless hunter in the field, Dean was the one who had to kill whatever pests got into their home. The Vetala knew he wasn't the easiest person to live with, even without his diet, yet Castiel still loved him, cared for him, made sure he and Sam and Jessica could feed without anyone knowing.

"Go," Castiel said at last, reluctantly pulling away. "Your lunch break is almost over. They should be ready by the time you get off work."

"Thanks, Cas."

The human just cracked a faint smile, watching him leave. Dean let himself out, pocketing the scrap of paper. He gave the secretary his most lecherous grin as she gave him an annoyed look, making his way towards the elevator. Rachel didn't like him very much, but she knew better than to use the blade or gun she had stashed under her desk. The one time she'd tried Castiel had held her at knifepoint until it was explained in great detail what would happen should she attempt to attack Dean again. She complained about everything from his species to his dress code to his attitude, but her boss just ignored her.

At least no one was around when Dean waited for the elevator, riding it down to the lobby. The Men of Letters had the top floors, but an assortment of other businesses were on all the others. Of course the doormen, receptionist, and anyone else who might filter whoever came and went were on their payroll. All of them looked sideways at Dean, something he ignored. Everyone knew he was banging their boss, but after nearly five total years they just grumbled.

The Men of Letters were sticklers, not idiots. Well, not usually. Those who were hadn't lasted long. While Castiel had made it explicitly clear Dean and his family were among the rare monsters who got a pass, they had to make themselves useful. That and they weren't allowed to hurt any humans, something they were already keeping to a minimum. Fortunately the Winchester brothers made very good hunters considering they were monsters themselves, ensuring Castiel had backing from higher ups to keep them safe and fed.

Even with a commendable track record and high regard for human life, providing the humans weren't scumbags, the Men of Letters probably wouldn't have given them so much leash. They didn't even have tracker anklets. But a bit of lore had proved to be very accurate, namely the bit about their loyalty. It wasn't something the Vetala advertised for obvious reasons, that if someone were to overpower them in combat and/or capture them they'd be both highly loyal and very protective of their master. It hadn't been Castiel's intention, he'd just picked up on someone making people on the local sexual predator registry vanish. Their bodies were never found, and they never would be. Dean had been on his own when Castiel had tracked him down, and gone out of his way to try and kill the Legacy. It hadn't worked very well, which the Vetala hadn't enjoyed. Then mid-fight it had come out that the man tied to a chair and one draining away from death had beaten his pregnant wife into a miscarriage. Needless to say the victim was the only one not to walk out of that abandoned factory, just a pleased Man of Letters and a pissed off Vetala.

These days, rather than tracking down scumbags no one would miss, Castiel arranged for kidnappings on par with Men of Letters professionalism. Death row inmates vanished overnight or in transit, pimps and rapists and murderers would disappear into thin air. Castiel tried to get them three or four people every few weeks, enough to keep them sated while they maintained human diets day-to-day. The arrangement they'd fallen into prior to being in a real relationship still held, for various reasons. When they needed to feed Dean would go see Castiel, the human would screw him, and within a few days he'd give Dean the location of some abandoned structure where their swiped prey would be waiting. This was the first time Dean had fixed his pants only to be immediately handed an address. But then he had been coming more regularly lately, since Jess had gotten pregnant. Almost once a week. And he'd ask for more people. Last time Castiel had gotten them five people, three of whom had gone to Jess. Each time he gave Dean address there'd be an extra number, indicating how many people he'd gotten. This time it was six. Considering he'd previously expressed difficulty in getting four this came as a bit of surprise. Then again, Jess was almost to nine months. She was starting to waddle.

Dean fished out his phone as soon as he was out of the building, making his way down the street. Castiel was right, his lunch break was almost over, he had to get back to the auto shop where he worked, but he had to tell Sam too. His brother had been nagging him for more frequent feedings. Considering Sam had been the one who'd always insisted they get by with the bare minimum for secrecy's sake, he'd made a turnaround when he had a wife to worry about.

As things stood, Sam didn't even give his brother the chance to say hi when he picked up.

"Dean?"

"Hey Sammy."

"Dean, listen, you need to go see Cas today. If you don't I will. You know it takes days for them to make arrangements and we haven't fed in over a week. I've been giving her the donated stuff but it's not the same."

"Would you be quiet for five seconds?" Dean demanded, irritated. "I already saw him."

"Really? When?"

"Five minutes ago," he admitted, grimacing. He could mask his walk, but only if he didn't go very fast. Fortunately no one ever seemed to pay much attention to the real world to judge. If his fellow pedestrians weren't on their own phone calls they had wires trailing from their ears.

"Oh. So what, forty-eight hours?"

"Tonight."

"Seriously?"

Dean cracked a smile at the relief in his brother's voice. "Seriously, Sammy. Got a pen?"

"Yeah, yeah. Shoot."

Once he'd relayed the location he asked, "Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"He got us six."

"He what?"

"Six, he got us six untraceable douchebags."

There was a brief pause, then, "Dean, you are going to go home, call in sick, and you are going to make that man a freakin' five course meal. And after you get fed tonight you are going to do whatever kinky shit he likes and you're not going to complain in the morning."

Dean stopped in his tracks. "What the hell, Sam?" he hissed, glancing around the street. The calling in sick bit wasn't the worst of it, but he did balk at doing that out of everything Sam had mentioned. He only worked part time, so he was easier for the Men of Letters to dispatch. Sam was currently taking classes online when he could, his eye on a degree in law. But right now he was more concerned with the fact that Sam wanted him to get his brains screwed out. Again.

"Do you have any idea how hard it was for us to get one guy?" his brother demanded. "And you know whatever bosses he has will be bitching about him getting any more than three at a time. They don't give a shit if Jess is pregnant or not and you know it."

"So?"

"So Cas has been busting his ass to take care of us. Which you don't help with, by the way."

"I help," Dean protested.

"You told the council to go fuck themselves."

"After they tried to tell you and Jess you weren't allowed to start a family after you knocked her up."

"Dean."

"Fine, fine." He glanced around, sidestepping out of the crowd. "I'll work something out if you call the shop. Tell 'em we ate lunch together and I got a bad taco or something."

"So you can pamper the guy you refuse to marry?"

"Sammy- "

"I know, I know, butt out. I'll call the shop, just move your ass."

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but his brother had already hung up. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, stalking back down the street. He'd have to pick up his car, but fortunately Baby wasn't parked in eyesight of the shop. They needed more groceries anyway, and he'd have to make a run before he made dinner. He wasn't about to whip up a five-course meal, but he could manage putting together Castiel's favorites. But if the human thought he'd be the one getting fucked two times in the same day, he had another thing coming. With a belly full of fresh blood Dean would be very much in the mood for such things, though he'd have no interest in being on the receiving end. Come to think of it, it had been a while since he'd tied his lover to their bed. Yes, it was high time he returned the favor. Dean wasn't the only one who kept an assortment of kinks tucked away in the primal shadows of his mind. Ones only his partner knew of and could use to their full advantage.

With this in mind, Dean continued down the street, alternating between putting together a mental shopping list and compiling all the naughty things he would do to his human lover.

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