Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: Kripke owns all Supernatural characters. I'm only borrowing them.

Pairing: Dean/Castiel - very graphic. This is my first attempt at something like this because this muse wouldn't leave me alone. Please let me know what you think, constructively.

Warnings: Rated M for swearing, graphic sexual content with S and M undertones, implied forced sexual torture and other adult subject matter.

Chapter 3 – The Ultimatum

Heavy metal rifts penetrated his consciousness. He opted to ignore them and snuggled down deeper into the best sleep he'd had in ages. The warmth that surrounded him called to him like a siren's song. He felt comforted, almost loved, a very rare feeling for him. He fell back to sleep easily.

Heavy metal rifts penetrated his consciousness. Again. He groaned slightly with the knowledge that he would have to wake up and answer his phone. He knew by the tune that it was Sam calling which meant that he couldn't ignore the phone any longer.

Right about the time he had convinced himself to wake up already he heard a voice, his voice. Images flashed through his mind at the deep, gravelly voice that he knew as well as any of his family's. Some images made sense and he knew were memories, like Cass in his trench coat. Others, like Cass without any clothes, made no sense whatsoever and disturbed him greatly but the worst of it all was Cass submerged in a lake then exploding.

Dean's eyes flew open at those images, clearly spooked. He looked down toward the foot of his bed where the voice was but flinched as he moved. For the most part, he felt great, revived and rearing to go. But when he moved, he felt the pull of several nonstandard muscles and a very disturbing sensation in his lower back area. No, not lower back. Lower than . . . reminded him of . . .

"Hello, Sam," Castiel greeted with his usual impersonal voice as he answered Dean's cell phone.

Even Dean could hear Sam's exclamation from his position on the bed. He flinched for Cass whose eyes met Dean's when he turned toward the bed. Castiel saw that Dean's eyes opened so wide that Castiel feared they might actually pop out. Castiel cocked his head to the side in his typical questioning fashion. So when Dean's shocked eyes slowly traveled downward, Castiel followed their path down his own body and noticed for the first time what had freaked Dean out.

"Cass?" Sam exclaimed then growled menacingly, "Where's Dean? Where is my brother? If you have hurt him . . ."

A now fully clothed Castiel answered with calm abruptness, "I have not hurt your brother, Sam. He was . . ." Castiel trailed off uneasily then edited, "He has been ill. Since I did not know if it was contagious, I kept him with me until he recovered."

"What do you mean you didn't know? What does it matter what it is? Can't you just heal him? Aren't you god?" Sam snarked sarcastically.

Castiel continued to stare at Dean while he answered slowly, "Crowley and another entity set a trap for me, using Dean. They have returned the souls to Purgatory."

Sam paused for a moment then questioned hesitantly, "Are you sure that Crowley didn't keep the souls for himself?"

"I am sure," Castiel replied easily.

"Yeah, well, excuse . . ."

Castiel interrupted impatiently, "If Crowley had captured the souls, you would have seen definite signs. He would not have laid low. He would have shown a demonstration of his power by now. Have you seen such a sign?"

"Uh," Sam stalled slightly then admitted, "No. No, we haven't." He sighed reluctantly. "Fine. I guess you're right. So how is Dean? Is he awake?"

Castiel studied Dean for a moment while he evaded slowly, "I will have him call you after he wakes up and showers."

Sam sighed heavily again but relented with obvious reluctance, "Yeah, okay. Have him call me then. Take good care of him, Cass."

"I will, Sam. I promise," Castiel vowed solemnly then he hung up and moved to place the phone on the bedside table. He turned to stare at Dean who shifted uneasily then winced and flushed slightly. Castiel offered slowly, "If you wish to shower now, I will get you some breakfast."

'Um, okay," Dean answered uncertainly. "But, uh, Cass . . . do you know . . . um, where . . ." Castiel cocked his head to the side curiously but Dean just flushed with immense embarrassment before backtracking quickly, "Um, . . . you know what, never mind. Go ahead and get the food."

Dean felt like an immature school boy who'd been caught with his pants down by his father. He couldn't for the life of him voice what the problem was because dudes didn't talk about this sort of thing with other dudes. That was firmly in the guy code and Dean was definitely a guy code kind of guy.

Suddenly, he felt fabric and a waistband circling his waist where there had been none and knew that Cass has mojo'd Dean's boxers back on him. Dean slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, ignoring the instinctive embarrassment over the fact that Cass had been aware of his problem. He also ignored the numerous disturbing sensations that sitting up had caused.

An overwhelming need for a very long, thorough shower became a driving force within him, especially when he felt something inside of one of his orifice's that shouldn't ever have anything in it. He carefully tossed back the covers and slowly lowered his legs to the floor. He gradually eased his weary body up wondering why everything felt so . . . not right, or, definitely not normal, even for him, which said a lot.

He almost passed back out when he felt a strong arm behind his back and another pulling his arm over Castiel's shoulders, even though Castiel had been on the opposite side of the bed. He didn't fight the hold in spite of his instincts to not accept any form of help from anyone. He knew he couldn't stand on his own at the moment.

"Uh, Cass," he started nervously, "Not that I'm not grateful or anything, but, what the hell, man?"

Castiel slowly led him to the bathroom. On the way, he answered noncommittally, "I am uncertain of your actual question, Dean."

"Of course, you are," Dean muttered sarcastically under his breath while rolling his eyes slightly. "Okay, first of all, what the hell is wrong with me? I mean, I'm not in pain, like real pain, so why do I feel so . . ."

"Unsteady?"

"Yeah, let's go with that," Dean evaded vaguely.

"You were infected with a substance, possibly a type of venom, and are still recovering. You have been ill for three days. This is the first day that you have actually been coherent at all," Castiel informed him impersonally.

They had made it to the bathroom door when Castiel paused and wondered hesitantly, "Do you wish me to assist you inside or wait here for you to call if you need it?"

Dean leaned against the door frame slightly, letting go of Castiel. He eyed the angel uncertainly and answered honestly but tried to make it sound like his normal cocky self, "I need a little 'me' time, you know, but . . ."

Castiel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement then advised, "I will be right here if you need any assistance. I will get breakfast after you are out."

Dean pressed his lips together tightly, seriously wanting to deny the need, but deep down he felt much better knowing Cass had his back right now. At least until he figured out what the hell had happened to him. So he nodded then entered the bathroom closing the door firmly behind him.

Castiel's posture relaxed slightly when Dean did not lock the door that now stood between them. It was better than Castiel had hoped for. He unconsciously prayed that he'd at least have time to explain things to Dean and make what amends he could to Bobby and Sam.

Inside the bathroom, Dean limped over to the toilet, dropped his boxers, and sat down on the open seat. He closed his eyes briefly, steeling himself for what he was about to do. He leaned to the left side, using the wall for balance, and reached behind him. He felt the end of the object, gripped it and slowly pulled it out of his ass.

He flinched at the feeling and then again when he felt warm liquid flow out of his now unplugged opening. He shuddered slightly at the knowledge of what had been done to him. He vaguely wondered why he didn't remember it, although he was pretty happy about that fact at the moment. God knew, he remembered enough of that from the Pit.

He was also glad that he wasn't in actual pain because he knew how painful it was to be raped, especially repeatedly. Hell wasn't called Hell for kicks and down there it happened a lot. A whole lot more than he'd ever wanted to remember. The only difference was what was happening now. In hell, he didn't have to deal with the clean up because he always ended up dying in the end then being remade whole without all of the extra semen.

He wondered vaguely if Cass maybe healed him. But, if he did, then why didn't Cass remove the plug? Would Cass know what the plug was? After all, the guy, angel, was kind of a vanilla virgin. Or, at least, he was, Dean mentally amended as memory of Cass kissing Meg flashed through his mind. He felt the anger that the memory caused and quickly shook off the image.

Dean shook his head slightly and tossed the plug in the trash. He did his business and wiped up what he could before turning on the shower full blast and as hot as he could take it. He stepped into the shower and leaned his hands against the front wall where the knobs were. He bowed his head and let the hot water wash away all the soreness in his muscles.

He stayed in that position, keeping his mind clear of everything but the feeling of the hot water soothing him. After all, he was the king of denial and ignoring troubling feelings was first nature to him. He felt the water start to cool down then grabbed the soap and washed himself thoroughly. He rinsed off and shut down the water then dried off.

He heard the faint sound of voices in the other room. He quickly wrapped his towel around his waist and moved swiftly to the door. He noticed the voices lower in volume but not urgency. He knew they could tell he was on his way out of the bathroom.

He already had enough questions in his head. He had no desire to have any more. He did not hesitate to barge into the room and find out what was going on. He stopped abruptly in shock at what he saw in the main room.

"Well, lookee what we have here," Gabriel taunted mockingly. "What a fine specimen of human manhood you have found for yourself, bro. About time you had your millennia plus old cherry popped but did you have to use such a manwhore to do it?"

"Fuck you, asshat," Dean snapped irritably. "And . . .What the hell? Aren't you supposed to be dead or something?"

"Only the good die young, Deanie-boy," Gabriel mocked easily. "Besides, Daddy heard that someone had gotten too big for his britches."

"Yeah, you," Dean snarled angrily.

"Think again, bucko," Gabriel countered then turned to Cass with a solemn expression. "One day. It's all I could do. Sorry, bro." Cass nodded in understanding then Gabriel snapped his fingers and blinked out of the room.

"What the hell was that all about? Wasn't he dead?" Dean demanded with a total lack of patience.

"It is not of import," Castiel evaded emotionlessly. "I will get you breakfast." With a flutter of feathers, he was gone.

Dean pursed his lips in irritation then stomped over to his bed and sat down a moment to gather his thoughts. He knew something big was going down just by Gabriel's attitude. That dick was never serious unless it was about his family and it was the first time that he had heard about God from either angel on their own.

If God was back, then . . . oh, crap, Dean concluded with dread as a few things actually clicked into place. He narrowed his eyes as he replayed the entire conversation in his mind. "One day."

The flutter of feathers sounded again and Dean easily honed in on the spot. He was up and in Castiel's face as the angel appeared before him. He grabbed the angel and slammed his back against the nearest wall. "What the hell is going on, Cass? And don't you dare lie to me this time."

Castiel dropped the bag of food but managed to blink the coffee over to the table. With his mind occupied and not expecting Dean to attack him this way, he didn't fight Dean at all. Now that those things were done he could focus on Dean. He looked into his charge's face and found that Dean's eyes had lost focus. He frowned slightly at this unusual occurrence.

Dean, meanwhile, fought against images that showed this wasn't a new thing for them. The very graphic images were very, very graphic and he found himself wanting to . . . No, he blinked and shook his head then refocused on Castiel and the problem at hand.

"Why is Gabriel back and what the hell did he mean by 'one day'?" Dean demanded hotly, desperately trying to ignore sensations coursing through his body. He smelled Cass's warm clean scent and felt his blood heat up. Something about that scent, Cass's scent, . . .

He stared at Cass's slightly chapped lips and had the sudden desire to taste them but, contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a slave to his body, even if all his blood seemed to be heading south at the moment. And even though he was so not gay in any way shape or form, Cass was Cass and . . . so good . . . Wait, what? He shook his head and inhaled automatically in a bid for control.

Bad move as once again, he smelled Cass and he felt himself hardened even more. His cock twitched with interest as his blood started to burn. He felt an overwhelming desire to do something that he never thought he'd ever want to do. His mind silently begged, Cass!

Castiel's back stiffened at the question but his nose flared at Dean's scent he smelled now that Dean was in such close proximity with him. He had seriously hoped that the bath would have erased it so that he could ignore the things that had happened between them, the amazing . . . delicious things. He didn't know if he could stand this scent in addition to the knowledge that Gabriel had imparted to him. Too bad, Dean had heard it as well.

"I told you, it is not of import," Castiel still evaded firmly.

"Bullshit," Dean exploded hotly. "Your Dad's back and you have one day left. How in the hell is that not of import?"

Castiel inhaled deeply to calm his irritation at his charge's normal stubbornness then quickly realized his mistake as that wonderful scent filled his entire being. It had grown stronger over the last few seconds. He narrowed his eyes while he stared deep into Dean's eyes then realized that Dean was giving off pheromones, lust-filled pheromones. Dean wanted to mate with him, again, or at least his body, his tanned, muscled body wanted him, Castiel.

He tried to swallow a lusty moan this knowledge but knew he didn't succeed when he saw Dean's eyes flare with more heat in response. He cleared his throat and told him in a slightly huskier voice, "It is not of import because it is a family matter that has nothing to do with you. There is nothing that you can do about it so it is NOT of import."

Dean frowned heavily, understanding everything that Castiel had pointed out, but once again, his angel didn't comprehend things correctly. Dean leaned forward until they were chest to chest and nose to nose. He ignored the shudder that ran through both of their bodies as well as the flare of intense heat and desire that raced through his body.

Up close and in his angel's face, Dean enunciated slowly but firmly, "Cass, you are of import! You, and anything that happens to you, is of import to me. And my family, because you are my family."

Dean paused a moment to let that sink into his angel's thick skull then clarified menacingly, "Now, I'm going to ask one more time. What is going on?"

Castiel swallowed thickly, fighting surprisingly strong, base instincts. The sooner he got this over with, the sooner . . . He couldn't let himself finish that thought. He sighed heavily, "Our Father is apparently back . . . home. And not happy." He paused for a moment in an attempt to figure out how to explain this. "According to Gabriel, he said something along the lines of 'just because the little could, doesn't mean that he should', I think."

"Oh, great," Dean commented sarcastically. "So now Daddy's back and pissed at the only son that actually tried to do the right thing? You have got to be kidding me!"

Dean pushed off of Castiel, intent on pacing off his anger, but Castiel quickly grabbed Dean's wrists and turned them so that Dean's back hit the wall and his wrists were pinned above his head. In the struggle, Dean's towel fell to the floor unnoticed.

Dean's eyes flew wide in surprise and he groaned slightly at the sharp pain in his back. Cass pressed in close and suddenly Dean's anger dissipated quickly. Confusion and desire warred within his body.

"Cass, what the hell?" Dean questioned huskily, feeling even more sensations, more desires. It was rare for another person to be able to overpower him so easily. The forcefulness reminded him once again of how powerful his friend was, and how powerless Dean was against him. That restrained power should not turn him on. It should piss him off but his whole, stupid body received a different message.

Castiel's entire body shuddered slightly and he exhaled slowly, still attempting to fight his baser nature. Dean's flashing green eyes, his incredible passion, his husky voice and Cass's scent mixed with Dean's pheromones . . . Castiel swallowed thickly and lowered his head. Maybe if he didn't look Dean in the eyes, he thought vaguely, only to find himself staring at . . .

Dean intently watched all the subtle movements Castiel made, searching for some clues as to what the hell was going on with his angel. No, wait, the angel, he meant, the angel. How long had he been calling Cass . . .

Castiel looked down and froze. Curiously, Dean followed Castiel's eyes down, still looking for clues, and found them both staring at Dean's very erect, very visible cock. It wasn't until then that Dean noticed the slight chill in the room.

"Uh," Dean started nervously then his eyes clashed with Castiel's very intense blue eyes. Dean had always noticed that the angel's eyes were extremely blue but now, God, they were so very, very . . . Dean nervously wet his lips and felt Castiel's eyes laser focus on them with so much heat that Dean unconsciously whimpered softly.

"Dean," Castiel started hoarsely. "How are you feeling?"

"Um," Dean stalled uncertainly. "Wha- . . . what do you mean?"

"How do you feel?" Castiel annunciated firmly.

Dean pressed his lips together, stuck between wanting to answer Cass's questions and not wanting to admit it. It being the sudden, intense attraction he felt toward this angel. He didn't remember feeling this much the last time that they had met but he'd always wanted . . . something from this being, this amazingly pure creature of light that thought he was actually worth something.

"Dean," Castiel prompted impatiently. It was getting harder and harder to hold back. He wanted, no, needed Dean's permission this time. He had to have it and he didn't think he could hold out much longer.

Dean nervously wet his lips again, remembering images that had been flashing through his mind all morning. "Cass," Dean started uncertainly. "Uh . . . wha-." He cleared his throat then continued doggedly, sounding only slightly stronger. "What happened while I was, you know, infected?"

Castiel stared deep into Dean's eyes and confirmed knowingly, "You already know that, Dean."

Dean swallowed thickly and tried but failed to suppress the small shiver that went through him at in depth knowledge those words held and that husky sex voice. No angel should ever possess that type of voice. He also remembered some of Gabriel's earlier taunting. Dean groaned softly in pleasured relief at the knowledge in his angel's eyes, "So it was you."

Castiel cocked his head to the side and observed with surprise, "You seem almost . . . relieved."

"Well, yeah," Dean verified slowly. "I thought it was a demon spawn or monster or something that did it. If I had to have gay sex with something, you'd so be my choice. But, dude, what's with the butt plug? That seems a bit kinky for a vanilla, virgin angel like you."

Castiel pressed his body against Dean's, sandwiching it tightly between the wall and himself, at the mention of that device. He drew in a shuddering breath and relished the intoxicating scent permeating the air around them. He could feel his wings fighting their bonds in their bid to help dominate the creature against him. He commanded huskily next to Dean's ear, "What are you feeling right now, Dean? Tell me."

Dean felt Cass's warm breath ghost over the sensitive skin on his neck and moaned wantonly, unable to hold back anymore, "Shit, Cass. I want . . . I want . . ."

"Want what, Dean?" Castiel breathed heavily.

Please read and review. Again this is my first time for this type of graphic fic so please be nice.