Oh, yeah, everything is unbeta'd. All my mistakes are my own. Also, didn't do quite as many re-reads and edits so there will probably be more mistakes than usual.
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.
Overall Warnings: Rated M for swearing, graphic sexual content with S and M undertones, implied forced sexual torture and other adult subject matter.
This chapter contains GRAPHIC SEXUAL TORTURE and mentions/implied of child abuse/molestations.
Extremely long chapter (Sorry)
- SPN - SPN -
Chapter 40 – The Long Timeout
"I already warned you, more than once," Castiel reminded him tightly. "You should . . . show me some respect." That harsh warning brought back sharp, painful memories of him and his mate in Bobby's kitchen not long after they first met then much later a dark, dank alley. He saw that his mate also remembered at Dean's slight flinch but was curious as to what the brief unexpected spark in his mate's eyes meant.
"Cas," Dean started hesitantly, surprised that he actually could speak this time. Before he could finish what he was going to say, the outside world blurred around him. He clenched his jaw and eyes shut tightly then bent his knees in anticipation of their landing. He really hated flying, even with his angel.
His knees almost buckled under the impact. He stumbled slightly then glanced around at his new environment. Solid white walls with intricate golden trim brought back all the bad memories of the beautiful room Zachariah trapped him in so that Sam was alone under Ruby's evil skank influence. The only change was the intricate four poster canopy bed with pearl white sheets that replaced the long banquet table. His heart sank into his stomach at the implications of how bad this could get for him.
Torture. Torture, he could take. He had plenty of experience in that area, especially after Alistair. The bed, however, did not imply that kind of torture. In fact . . . his thoughts trailed off with dread as he felt warm air rush over his completely bare skin.
He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly then slowly turned to face Castiel on the other side of the room, still fully dressed in his suit and trench coat. He stared sullenly at the implications and decided to wait for Castiel's move. Castiel was way too volatile as it was and, yes, he acknowledged, at least to himself, that he was responsible for his mate's current mood.
Yes, he also knew that he tended to rub people that way. What could he say? He was definitely John Winchester's son and followed in his father's footsteps in that aspect, at the very least. So all the while Sam was able to do the 'soulful eyes', wussified statements, bratty fits and be a freakin' bleeding heart, Dean had had to be the tough, don't-mess-with-me asshole that no one wanted to be around. He had learned very early and very well how his looks had worked against him most of the time. He couldn't be Sam's protector if he was too busy fending off unwanted attention himself.
Castiel eyed his nude, unusually quiet mate. He asked sardonically as he slowly pulled off his trench coat, "What, Dean? Did I actually stun you speechless for once? No snarky comeback? I am surprised." He draped his coat over the back of an ornately decorated wooden chair with pearl white cushions.
Dean stared as Castiel moved on to his suit jacket which followed the trench coat. Dean fought not to dive under the covers or grab them up to cover himself, innately knowing that this was only the beginning of the unpleasantness. Not that he was in any way embarrassed about his natural physique because he really wasn't. Of course, he currently wasn't in his natural physique and really had to fight not to hide his slightly rounded stomach.
He watched Castiel loosen then take off his tie and he fought his own warped mind over possible kinky uses of that particular piece of clothing. Unfortunately, being bare naked as he was, his thoughts became very visible to anyone who glanced at him, which Castiel was doing regularly. He looked up at the ceiling and willed his blood to return to its normal, not aroused state.
Castiel arched his eyebrow at Dean's semi-hard erection and cocked his head to the slide, stating, "It comes to mind that what I have planned may not be as objectionable as it would seem. I might have to rethink things. But, for now, first things first." Dean stepped back warily as Castiel advanced purposefully while he rolled up his white dress sleeves to right past his elbows.
Dean backed into the dark mahogany dresser only to have Castiel stop right before him, once again in Dean's personal space. He knew that if he was going to state his case, it had to be now. He swallowed uncertainly and stammered, "Uh . . . C- Cas."
"Do not talk, Dean," Castiel commanded harshly. "Nothing you can say will alter what is about to happen, not even telling me with complete honestly that you were on your way back after your little nap." Castiel paused to clench his jaw and growled with barely contained outrage, "You have banished me for the last time! You are the sub in this relationship. You will know, and live, this fact before you leave this room."
"You're not going to change me," Dean gritted out firmly. "I am who I am. I'm not changing for anyone."
"I do not want to you change, Dean," Castiel dismissed irritably. "You are you. That is not the issue here."
"Then what is?" Dean snapped irritably.
Castiel narrowed his eyes in vexation at the stubborn man before him. Emerald eyes blazed defiantly at him, making Castiel remember how those eyes compelled him to do so much more than he'd ever thought was possible, or even probable. Castiel answered tautly, "The issue is that you are not alone anymore and you need to stop acting like you are. Everything you do had a direct effect on us, on me, and . . . our baby."
"What makes you so sure it's yours?" Dean taunted defensively, an automatic response without conscious thought, and then wished he could close his eyes and slam his head back into the wall. He knew what that question and tone would get him. He knew. Once again, his mouth outpaced his mind.
But, in the end, that didn't matter because someone, Cas, was getting too close to him again and he couldn't afford for that to happen this time. He'd been broken and remade too many times in the past to go through all this again and come out whole. Deep down, he really didn't think he couldn't survive it another time.
Castiel didn't draw away, like Dean expected him to. He didn't lash out. He didn't yell or react in any emotional way really. Instead, Cas got right into his face and warned harshly, "That is one of the many things we are here to find out. But, as I said earlier, first things first."
"Go ahead," Dean dared defiantly with only the slightest crack in his voice. "But be warned. If you go Alistair on me, this . . . whatever this is, is over. I won't stay with someone who goes Torture Master on me."
"Understood," Castiel acknowledged solemnly then took a step back from Dean and extended a hand toward the matching chair that didn't have his clothing on it. He mojo'd it within six inches of the bed side and about a foot from them on Dean's right side. He turned and fixed Dean with a solemn stare.
Dean refused to look away from Castiel, knowing something was about to happen. It wasn't in his nature not to fight so he wasn't just going to go with it. Even so, Dean never knew what had happened until it was too late. Stupid freakin' angels with the Flash's super speed.
"What the . . ." Dean gasped in surprise to suddenly find himself face down, lying across Castiel's thighs, with his bare ass very exposed. He felt a strong forearm brace against his upper back so that he couldn't rear up and another on his upper hamstrings so that he couldn't kick off. In fact, he could barely wiggle at all. He could lay his head down on the bed but not get any real leverage with Castiel's arm across his back. He was very effectively pinned. He growled angrily, "Hey! No fair using super powers. Freakin' Flash wannabee. Get off me!"
A sharp searing pain flared out from the loud smack he heard in the room and he bit his lip to contain his gasp of pain. In that moment, he realized what his first punishment was. He argued hotly, "No one freakin' spanks adults to punish them, Cas. Let me go."
"On the contrary," Castiel countered with a slight, smug smile and another firm swat to Dean's round ass cheek. "I have seen it in several movies."
"Pornos, man. Pornos," Dean yelped slightly then gritted his teeth as he continued irritably, "Only in kinky porn. Sex. Not as punishments." He flinched faintly as another smack landed on his heated bum. While Castiel was obviously not using full power, he was definitely putting power into each blow. His angel spanked him harder than his father ever had, even when John had really gotten pissed about Flagstaff. Crap . . . Flagstaff . . . he so needed to block that out of his mind right now.
Castiel didn't respond but he did speed up the blows and soon Dean was really fighting to keep his pain inside. He fought, wiggled and squirmed to try and escape his angel's hold, all the while he flinched repeatedly. His ass felt like it was on fire. He bit his upper lip and closed his eyes against the wetness trying to seep through.
In spite of the punishment that his butt was taking, he couldn't help but notice that his abdomen was completely fine. He didn't feel the pressure of Castiel's leg against it, even though it should have been laying on it. He sensed that Castiel was protecting it against any strain.
Another particularly painful blow landed and he yelped hoarsely. His throat strained from the muscles locking everything inside it. He needed to scream. He needed to shout. But that brought more pain he remembered as another punishment tried to take him back to that place he didn't want to go. He couldn't go back there. He couldn't . . .
Finally, Dean felt he'd had his fill of this punishment and couldn't take it, especially with the memories trying to crash down on him, so he hollered thickly, "Okay. Okay. Damn it. I get it, Cas. Stop it. Damn it. Just stop it, Cas."
"When my grace stops reminding me of your banishing, I will stop it," Castiel retorted irritably, slamming his hand down on Dean's bright cherry red cheeks.
Dean groaned in pain then swallowed a whine. His eyes rolled and he shuddered under the onslaught as his memory reminded him that he hadn't been given a reprieve the last time either, or the time before that, or the time . . . Alistair popped up in his mind but he could quickly toss it aside. Alistair was a demon who enjoyed his pain, any pain. Something that Dean had expected to do this. That was a given. In fact, Alistair himself hadn't broken Dean in Hell. It was Alistair disguising himself as Dean's family and using Dean's memories of them against him that had broken him.
Dean accepted that evil, and evil things, would always hurt him. That was nothing to him mentally. It was when someone that Dean loved and had expected to protect him then didn't love him, didn't protect him. Or, even worse, when they betrayed him or went out of their way to hurt him . . . that was what really got Dean. Just like now, like Cas, like Sam, like . . . Dad . . . like . . .
No! He rebelled with a loud angry mental shout. He had to stay here. He had to stay in the present. He had to stay with Cas. He couldn't go back. Not now. Not ever.
He felt another blow and tried to focus on something, anything, besides this punishment. Think, damn it! He harshly ordered his burdened mind. Since he was searching out any other sensation, he finally felt an escape on the next swat as his bare groin rubbed against Castiel's thigh. It wasn't much but he was desperate, seriously desperate.
He had never been that much into the pain-pleasure sort of thing. Not to say that he did like a little of that but he'd never been one for whips and chains. Hell tried to bring that out in him and it did, to a small extent. If he added that to the pornos he'd referred to earlier . . .
Twenty strokes later, Dean's mind was lost to the avalanche of sensation and his focus totally broke under the weight of it all. He moaned in confusion while his mind surrendered then shuddered at the pain on another swat. His raw butt cheeks told him that he had to be bloody by now. He whimpered out weakly, not even feeling the tears that had been and still were leaking from his eyes, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please. Please. Promise. Sorry. Swear."
Castiel paused the next blow with his hand held right above Dean's dark red cheeks in confusion then questioned softly, "What are you sorry for?"
"Disappointing you," Dean whimpered vaguely, rubbing his face on the bed sheets under him. "Sorry. Really, really sorry."
Castiel narrowed his eyes at his mate's back at the vague response then questioned concisely, "Will you banish me again?"
Dean shook his head and at the same time he answered softly, "No. Promise. Please." He whimpered brokenly.
"Even if you think it's for my own good?" Castiel elaborated, wanting to be sure. He worried over the unrest that seeped into him, unsure of what was causing it.
Dean shook his head again and verified verbally with a slightly breaking voice, "Promise. Be good. Swear. Sorry."
"Not even if you are trying to escape me because I locked you up to keep you from doing something really stupid and self-sacrificing?" Castiel prodded further.
"Promise. Please. Stop. No more. Please. Be good," Dean whispered insistently and moved his hips slightly then wiggled faintly against Castiel's thigh. He didn't really try to move off of Castiel's lap. He moved his hips again, shuddered and exhaled shakily.
Castiel frowned slightly, thinking this was really unusual for Dean. Worried that something might be wrong with his mate, he carefully rolled him over on his lap. He made sure that Dean's sorely abused posterior fell into the open space between Castiel's spread thighs so that it didn't touch anything. He looked into his mate's face and was stunned by the glassy dazed look in Dean's eyes.
"What the . . ." Castiel started gruffly, having learned that particular phrase really well from his mate, obviously, while he studied the rest of his mate's body. He saw the flushed face and torso which could easily be explained from the blood rushing down into it based on Dean's previous face down position. So he dismissed them until his eyes traveled down to Dean's mostly erect cock. He frowned in disturbed confusion. He honestly hadn't believed Dean was really into pain in this way.
Then he remembered how Dean's hips would react to his more recent swats. How the force of the impact would press Dean's hips down and they would buck back up, only to continue the cycle. Without anything to contain or cover Dean's bare, hanging cock, Dean's hip movements allowed it to rub off on Castiel the whole time. The only question left was why hadn't Dean come yet when it was apparently such a stimulating position?
Dean whimpered painfully through his heavy breathing, directing Castiel's eyes back up to his mate's face. Dean's sightless eyes showed blatantly that Dean wasn't with him anymore but where had he gone in his mind? Dean shuddered and started to pant.
Castiel quickly stood and placed Dean on his right side in the middle of the bed before lying down facing him. He touched two fingers to Dean's forehead and tumbled into his mate's mind. He had to know what he was dealing with since he knew that Dean had withstood at least thirty years of Alistair's torture in Hell. He found it hard to believe that Dean would break so easily from a simple spanking.
He saw a young Dean groan with pain as he slowly rose from the carpeted motel room. This Dean was only about thirteen and very bruised. He ran a hand through his hair then winced in pain from the movement. Dean quickly searched the motel room and doesn't find Sam anywhere. The room phone rang out sharply and Dean stared at it with dread while all remaining color drained from his bruised face before zombie walking over and picking the receiver up.
"Dad?" Dean's voice cracked from the strain. "Yes. Yes, sir, but . . . two more weeks . . . but . . . I know people are dying but . . . Dad! Sam's gone."
The room spun, moved out of focus then back in. Castiel spotted Dean seated at the same motel's table with his head lying on it. A livid John barreled through the room's door and quickly spotted his prey. He yanked Dean up by his shirt and slammed the young boy into the nearest wall, ignoring Dean's yelp of pain as tears filled Dean's eyes. He snarled into his son's face, "What the hell do you think you are doing sleeping at a time like this? I told you to find him or don't bother coming back. He was lost on your watch. He was your responsibility and you lost him. How could you let him get by you? You are older and bigger. What the hell were you doing? Besides, getting into more fights, based on your pathetic face. You had one job. One. And you screwed up. You're freakin' worthless. What the hell do I keep you around for? You're useless. Now, get out there and bring him back home."
"B-b-but . . ." Dean stammered dazedly. He wanted to tell his dad that he'd just come in ten minutes ago from the rain and cold because his head was about to freakin' come off. He'd been running a fever for days now, from even before Sam had left. He hadn't really eaten since Sam went missing and he hadn't had much before because they had run out of money and supplies. Besides, he'd already looked everywhere there was to look in this one-horse town. He shook so badly and it wasn't all because of fear. Unfortunately, none of that come out of his mouth. He was too sick, too tired, and knew it really didn't matter. Sammy was the important one. Always had been.
"Damn it, Dean," John bit out irrationally then warned menacingly. "I'm trying to control my temper and not give you what you so richly deserve but if you're not out of the door in the next two seconds, I'm not holding back anymore. Now, move it, soldier."
Dean stared at his father groggily then stumbled forward, only to trip on a chair leg. John cursed and yanked him up then sniffed suspiciously and sneered, "Alcohol? You got drunk? You got drunk while your baby brother . . ." Dean knew better than to mention the alcohol on his father's breath or the fact that the alcohol he'd drank was to numb his severe sore throat and pain in his chest. He saw his father's furious face and knew it was all over.
What followed next showed definite signs of a disjointed, stressed, fevered memory. Castiel startled at the severe spanking by a slightly drunk, irrational father with a leather belt. He heard the similarity of Dean's broken pleas and whimpers.
Scenes switched again as a severely fevered, badly bruised, whipped Dean was shoved harshly to the motel floor then kicked in the ribs and ordered caustically, "Get out of my sight. You make me sick. Don't show your face to me again unless you have Sam with you. Two more people have died from the hunt I had to break off from because of your incompetence. Don't make your brother the next victim on your conscious."
Dean staggered out into the cold, rainy night, completely aware of his lack of self-worth. His only value lied within his ability to protect others, mainly Sammy. He, by himself, was nothing. He didn't matter. He hadn't mattered since he was four, since before his mother died, protecting Sam, died for Sam. Sam was all that mattered. Was all that had ever mattered.
Castiel's heart broke as he witnessed the final destruction of the four-year old child that was Dean Winchester. What Azazel and Mary's deal had started, John Winchester finished off that night. And Castiel had unknowingly brought it all back in full force.
Dean's memory flashed to a creepy truck driver who licked his lips a little too much to Castiel's comfort which turned out complete justified in the next scene. "Yeah, I saw him, kid," the driver smirked knowingly. "What's it worth to you?" Castiel wanted to smite the sleazy creature for eyeing Dean's lips hungrily before wetting his own. "What are you willing to do for this kid?"
Castiel closed his eyes against the painful knowledge of the easily guessed outcome for this incident as well as the knowledge of what had happened to the very last dregs of Dean's self-worth. The blinding knowledge, now so permanently ingrained in him, of Sam's absolute importance and his duty to protect his brother at all costs told Castiel what had happened way before the sight of Dean retching violently on the side of the road did.
"Enough," Castiel snarled angrily, knowing that although this was probably the most blatant trauma, it was not the only one by a long shot. Unfortunately, it was the only one that his mate would think about during this time. He would make sure of that because he was taking over control of Dean's mind.
He kept one hand on Dean's forehead while he swiftly placed his other hand over his mark on Dean's arm and slowly calmed himself to force soothing grace into Dean's tattered mind. He monitored both as he saw a very relieved John fiercely hug the newly found Sam in Flagstaff while Dean looked on longingly but secure in the knowledge that he wasn't, and wouldn't ever be, worthy that kind of unconditional love.
Dean smiled softly as Sam approached him and whispered the apology for sucker punching the already injured Dean so that Sam could easily escape. Dean swallowed his rage and betrayal over the incident then just messed up Sam's hair, dismissing the whole incident. He turned away and hid his cough behind his hand and walked away, knowing he had to suck it up and protect Sam.
Dean's memory started to shift again when he felt the soothing feeling and immediately whispered with so much heart-felt relief, "Cas." He smiled softly while his whole body relaxed and slowly his eyes closed in peaceful gratitude. Castiel bit his upper lip gently and closed his eyes to combat the hot, stinging sensation in them. He understood so, so much more now but that didn't change what he had to do. If anything, it made it all the more important.
- SPN - SPN -
"What the hell?" Bobby exclaimed in surprise as Balthazar suddenly growled then disappeared from the kitchen. Lucifer and Michael both cocked their heads to listen to something that neither Sam nor Bobby could hear. Both humans jumped slightly when Lucifer crowed loudly with undisguised glee.
"What . . ." Sam started, only to be cut off by Michael's arrogant drawl.
"You know, it's almost a complete waste of energy," Michael observed drily.
"What is?" Sam spat irritably, sick of being left out of the loop.
Michael smirked mockingly and generously allowed, "Getting revenge on our brothers. After all, yours does such a great job at self-destructing and destroying everything in his life all on his own that it's almost a moot point to try to torture him."
"And, of course, Dean hurting, hurts Cassie, so it's basically all win for us," Lucifer concluded laughingly.
"So . . . you're not going to try to get even with him?" Sam verified with obvious disbelief.
"We said almost, Sammy," Lucifer corrected cheerfully. "All-most."
"What's the idjit done now?" Bobby grumbled wearily.
Balthazar reappeared in time to answer the question testily, "He banished Gabriel and Cassie away then took off in that junk car of his. Any ideas of where the moronic fool is headed this time?"
"He banished his mate?" Lucifer verified intently. "You can do that?"
"Don't even think about it, Luce," Michael warned menacingly.
"Too late," Lucifer countered cockily then stuck his tongue out at Michael.
Michael arched an eyebrow and eyed Lucifer's tongue meaningfully while he observed wryly, "Already prepared to start working off your punishment, Luce? Well, I'm game. Get to it."
"Not here, you don't!" Bobby snarled hotly, quickly coming to his feet. "I've already seen enough of you idjits that I have to bleach out of my brain. I don't have enough for more of that crap."
"Oh, you know you loved it," Lucifer taunted arrogantly.
"What do we do?" Sam growled out to bring everyone back to the subject at hand.
"Well, we could do a round robin," Lucifer hypothesized seriously but completely off topic. "After all, we have an odd number. But only Mikey and me are bonded so you three can do it however . . ."
"I meant about Dean," Sam gritted out tightly.
"Nothing," Gabriel snapped irritably as he appeared in the room, visibly pale from his experience. "Cassie has caught up to him and will deal with him as he sees fit."
"Says who?" Sam argued irritably.
"What do you mean, 'sees fit'?" Bobby asked hesitantly for clarification.
"Hopefully, you mean that Cassie is finally going to put his foot down and bring that relationship in line," Balthazar interjected dryly. "He's let Dean run amok too long. It's only going to get us into more trouble."
"Who says you have to be here at all?" Sam wondered caustically.
"Well, we do believe in family, you know, since we're . . ." Balthazar admitted snobbishly, only to be interrupted by Gabriel's sharp, warning call, "Balthazar." Balthazar rolled his eyes and searched for another drink which Gabriel swiftly snapped into existence since Balthazar was playing along. Balthazar eyed it happily then raised it in salute to Gabriel before pouring himself a drink.
"We're what exactly?" Bobby demanded slowly with grim misgivings, having noticed the angelic interaction.
Balthazar and Gabriel exchanged glances then Gabriel started to talk when Lucifer piped up enthusiastically, "Oh, yeah, they don't know about . . ." Then Lucifer changed into a taunting sing-song voice, "Dean and Cassie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, we know," Sam interrupted quickly. "Demon lust. Got that. Past that. A while ago. Old news, Les Nessman."
Lucifer rolled his eyes and started to speak when Gabriel glared menacingly at him then Michael. Michael then rolled his eyes at Gabriel and told Lucifer ruefully, "Pipe down, Luce. If they can't finish that rhyme on their own, they aren't going to get it. It's been pretty freakin' obvious for a while now and plenty of hints have already been dropped. Repeatedly. Why else would we archangels be bothering with this petty crap?"
"Nice, Mikey. Real nice," Gabriel snarked nastily. "Way to keep things under control. No wonder they figured out your plan so quickly and botched it."
Gabriel's head shot up to gaze at the ceiling and he told Balthazar, "Be right back with the Impala. You have to stash it with you know what." Gabriel disappeared before Balthazar even got the chance to nod.
Bobby and Sam ignored that as they stared at each other while they both ran the child's rhyme in their heads. 'First comes love, then comes marriage . . . baby . . .' The color quickly fled both of their faces as they turned to stare in horror at what might very well be their new in-laws.
"Yes! You guessed it," Lucifer announced excitedly like a game show host. "Tell them what they won, Mikey!"
"The best in-laws any mortal ever had," Michael intoned sardonically.
"The only, and most psychotic you mean," Balthazar snarked caustically.
"Happy Honeymoon, love birds!" Lucifer toasted cheerfully before quickly draining the rest of Balthazar's bottle. Sam turned green and appeared decidedly ill at the prompted visual.
"Father, there isn't enough alcohol in this world," Balthazar bemoaned into his now empty glass.
"Amen to that," Bobby grouched out before getting up to grab a whiskey bottle of his own.
- SPN - SPN -
Castiel monitored his sleeping mate's consciousness and subconscious, making sure that he had eliminated most of the remembered trauma. Luckily, Dean was tired enough that he stayed more unconscious than anything else. He waited like that for an hour while he ran through his mind all the different ways he could possibly make this work. Unfortunately, there weren't many options available to him.
He couldn't torture Dean physically or mentally because Dean had already been through way too much of that, especially after thirty years of Hell under Alistair. Plus, he couldn't do that to Dean anyway. He also couldn't do the simplest of punishments as was just demonstrated.
He sighed heavily and slowly withdrew his hand from Dean's shoulder, unconsciously caressing Dean's arm as he allowed his hand to map out the sensation of casually touching his mate's skin. He suddenly realized that they had never had a real encounter with just the two of them, no venom, no heat, just them. Too much had been distracting them.
He continued to feel and caress Dean's scarred callused hand then individual fingers. He frowned at the self-inflected knife wound then decided against healing it. Dean needed to live with the consequences, he decided even though he knew that Dean wouldn't bat an eye at that decision.
When his hand moved to Dean's torso, he heard a soft sigh from his mate and glanced up to detect a slight smile on Dean's peaceful face. His own face formed a slight smile in return then he trailed his hand slowly down Dean's torso with his eyes leading the way. He swiftly saw that Dean's cock had extended out to see what was going on. It twitched faintly but was only half-full.
His roaming hand lightly grazed over the sensitive skin and watched it stretched out a little further. He heard Dean let out a soft whimper of need. He narrowed his eyes and smiled again, finally remembering his initial thoughts on this matter when he had discussed it with Missouri. He finally figured out what he could use against Dean and this could very easily make Dean love him for it.
He decided not to wake Dean up but he also wasn't going to wait until Dean woke on his own. He rearranged himself and allowed his wings to manifest with a sigh of relieved pleasure. Now he had more . . . appendages to learn his mate's body with. He smiled wickedly as he slowly ran his hands and wings over his Dean's bare skin. Dean was in for a very long . . . time out.
- SPN - SPN -
Dean slowly felt himself being pulled from a very deep sleep. He felt warm skin ghosting over his arm then torso. He knew it was Cas before he even knew where he was. Cas's scent filled the room and, oh, did it turn him on?
He didn't know if it was the mating bond or Trini or something else, but now he could smell Castiel's arousal and knew exactly what Castiel wanted because he wanted it too. To be one with each other again. He whimpered at the empty feeling inside him. He wasn't really conscious enough to know why he felt so empty and desperate, only that he did.
Feathers joined the questing hands, ramping up his already needy arousal. He felt his cock sag against his thigh as his heated blood rushed to fill it and overwhelmed his groin muscle. He started to roll over and bare himself for his mate instinctively when pain seared through him, bringing him to awareness. He slowly blinked his eyes open and saw Castiel's eyes right in front of him. Their pupils were already blown wide with lust but Castiel's signature deep blue surrounding them.
Castiel had waited for Dean's green eyes to show then quickly captured Dean's lips before prying them open with his forceful tongue. He lapped at the willingly opened mouth and drank in the overwhelmed moan of pleasure. He growled in response and felt Dean's free arm reach around to grip Castiel's hair tightly, causing another rumbling growl that Dean felt vibrate all the way through the tip of his cock.
Dean mewled and tried to roll over again but pain once again stopped him. He whimpered in distress, unable to do what he wanted. He vaguely remembered his punishment and he wanted to lash out at Castiel for going overboard, maybe. But, at the moment, he just wanted Cas, just Cas, any way he could get him.
"Cas," Dean moaned in confusion with an underlying, disjointed plea. "Please." Castiel broke away but continued to kiss and suck on Dean's skin over his cheek and down to his throat which Dean willingly bared for him. Dean felt his blood grow even more sluggish as he felt feathers ghost over his twitching erection and groin. Dean's eyes rolled up into his head while he panted slightly, trying to hold back what was shaping up to be a dozy of an orgasm.
Castiel concentrated a second and materialized what he needed. He pressed it into Dean's other hand which was resting on the bed. He ordered firmly while he sucked at that special, highly sensitive spot on Dean's neck, "Put it on."
Dean arched his neck with a hiss of pleasure while he tried to obey his mate's command. He felt the object with his fingers and reluctantly identified it then whined faintly in objection, "Cas."
"Now, Dean." Castiel ordered firmly, pulling up off Dean's neck to stare into Dean's eyes. He reached up and gripped Dean's short hair at the base of his skull, forcing Dean to see the seriousness of Cas's expression. "Obey me, Dean."
Dean groaned slightly then shifted uneasily, biting back another pained moan. He bit his upper lip slightly as his hand closed over his own very sensitive erection. He could feel the wing oil that had already coated it from being played with by wings and feathers. His dry mouth immediately watered in remembrance of the pleasurable sensations that great tasting oil invoked. His eager cock jumped excitedly in his hand and he automatically tried to pump himself once to stave his orgasm off.
"Don't," Castiel warned harshly.
Dean's eyes shot open. He hadn't even realized that he had closed them. He saw Castiel's intent expression focused on his cock which once again jumped in his hand in appreciation of its rapt audience. He unconsciously tightened his grip to attempt to regain some control this needy body part.
"Dean," Castiel warned dangerously again, almost like he could sense how close Dean was. How much Dean really needed this. Castiel needed it as well but he needed Dean's obedience more so that they could enjoy more times like this. He firmly kept his end goal in the forefront of his focused mind.
Dean licked his dry lips and tried one more time, "Come on, Cas. Please. We both want it."
Castiel glanced back up at Dean and arched an eyebrow meaningfully. Dean shuddered slightly, causing his ass cheeks to tighten painfully. He couldn't tell what exactly had him so messed up but all of it, Cas's scent, his oil, his mate's very presence, was really wrecking his mind. Even the fact that Castiel cared enough, and was strong enough, to punish Dean turned him on and he knew exactly how warped that was. The burning pain filled him with a strange warm feeling. So he honestly wasn't trying to delay it anymore, now that he knew Castiel wasn't going to budge on this, but his hand shook slightly as he moved the binding ring toward his cock head.
He had to look down then to see what he was doing and he felt Castiel's eyes follow his down. He exhaled a shuddering breath and slowly swiped his thumb over his steadily leaking cock slit, spreading his seeping precum and Cas's heavenly oil evenly over his really needy cock. He carefully moved the ring into place, attempting to ignore the pleasurable sensation of anything gliding over his blood engorged appendage. His hips automatically bucked forward in response to the stimulation while he bit his upper lip and locked the cock ring into place. He moaned despondently between breathless pants then turned his glazed eyes to Castiel and rasped out brokenly, "Why?"
Castiel heaved out a slow, steadying breath then croaked out hoarsely, "Father, you were so damn hot doing that. I almost changed my mind. But this is too important." He pulled his eyes away from the imprisoned, angry red tool of pleasure and stared into his mate's eyes to state plainly, "To train you, Dean."
"Wh- What?" Dean stammered uncertainly. His aroused blood pumped so hot that he could barely think straight. All he wanted was release of his pent up arousal.
Castiel reached up and gripped Dean's hair with one hand then reached over and lightly stoked Dean's literal red hot ass. Dean hissed in pain at the same time he bucked his hips forward, visibly torn between the two opposite sensations. He mewled wantonly as his top leg rose up into a bent knee position, opening himself up in submission as well as he could at the moment. Dean had to hand it to Castiel because that was the most perfect mix of pleasure-pain that he'd ever felt.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean whimpered brokenly. "Please. Need . . ."
"Look at me, Dean," Castiel commanded harshly, fighting his own very aroused urges. Dean's pheromones saturated the room air. That combined with Dean's natural erotic sensuality. Castiel wasn't sure exactly how long he was going to last. It would probably take more than one session he quickly decided, already looking forward to every one of those sessions as well.
Dean's vague eyes found Castiel's and Castiel explained intently, "It is really simple, Dean. You do exactly what I say, when I say it, without question, and you will be rewarded."
Dean's mind cleared briefly enough for him to grit out with irate objection, "Not a freakin' dog, Cas."
Castiel arched his eyebrow as he willingly took Dean's unconscious challenge over his position. Castiel curled his slightly slick fingers resting on Dean's ass. They curled under the curve of Dean's sensitive ass then one slipped lightly over and finally into Dean's tightly clenched entrance, making Dean's inner muscles clamp down on its prize, while Dean arched in an attempt to force more of it into his empty body. He automatically mewled with pleasure then whined in great need. He panted erratically while his eyes rolled up for a brief instant before he found Castiel's eyes watching with smug intensity.
Castiel leaned over and breathed with justified cockiness in Dean's ear, "If you're not my bitch, why are you whining, panting, and trembling like one in heat, Dean?"
Dean closed his eyes against the truth of Castiel's words, trying to fight it but it was a losing battle he quickly realized, and then shuddered with unfulfilled desire as Castiel removed his finger and inched away from Dean. He didn't know where the feeling came from but instantly he knew he couldn't allow Castiel to leave him like this. His eyes flew open and he called out in a sudden panic, "Cas!"
Castiel turned and glanced at Dean's frightened face then wondered what was going on in his mate's mind this time. He cocked his head to the side while he frowned in confusion. Sudden inspiration told him that this was something he needed Dean to feel so he continued his movement, very aware of Dean's hand reaching out toward him, only to drop away despondently.
Castiel stood upright beside the bed then turned and explained concisely, "The other rule here is that you have to answer my questions, truthfully, the first time, or there will be more . . . punishment."
Dean shuddered at the final word, vaguely remembering how horrible that had been. He felt part of himself trying to rebel, to fight, but Castiel seemed to sense that and glanced down at Dean's cock. He stared at it hard, focusing all his attention, and then he heard Dean gasp in pleasure and drop his head back instinctively. Castiel dropped his hold on Dean's cock and continued to stare at Dean who pulled his head back up to its original position.
"How did . . ."
"My grace, Dean," Castiel explained easily. "If I can move a chair across the room with it, what makes you think that caressing my mate's cock is beyond my means?"
"So, you can . . ." Dean trailed off with a mixture of wickedness and excitement before his current predicament came crashing down on him.
Castiel nodded slowly then extrapolated in warning, "Anytime. Anywhere, Dean. No matter who is present."
Dean swallowed nervously as the implications of it all came to him. Castiel could metaphysically jerk him off in front of Bobby, or Sam, without even touching him during the entire process. Dean's face flushed hotly over the potentially extremely embarrassing possibilities. He clarified hesitantly, "But you won't. Right?"
Castiel verified firmly, "I won't . . . unless you act up. I meant what I said, Dean. There is too much at risk here for you to continue on the current path you are on."
Dean swallowed again before he asked uncertainly, "What do you mean? What risk? What path?"
Castiel rolled his eyes slightly in exasperation then sent Dean a disappointed stare. "Do you honestly want to do it this way, Dean? I'm beginning to think you enjoy this. Too much."
"Seriously?" Dean interrupted with incredulity.
Castiel continued tightly as if he hadn't spoken, "Or you are trying to make me do something to make you hate me? Either way, it's a moot point. I will succeed in this. It is too important not to."
"You going to answer my questions or not?" Dean demanded irritably.
"You risked yourself, and the baby, with your childish act earlier," Castiel snapped.
"You already punished me for that," Dean snapped back resentfully, unable to help himself.
"True," Castiel allowed. "But I need to ensure that you will not do it again."
"I promised, didn't I?" Dean argued sullenly, not wanting to remember much of that exercise.
"Yes. You promised. But you know as well as I that you break promises whenever you feel you are justified in it. You justify way too much," Castiel countered knowingly. "So your promises mean nothing to me."
"So, what then?" Dean growled angrily, trying to hide the hurt that he had felt at Castiel's words, despite his internal acknowledgement of their truthfulness.
Castiel stared at him with regretful solemnness and Dean braced himself for the other shoe. Castiel reinforced, "My training will not allow for the option to happen."
"Wait a damn minute," Dean hissed irately, feeling the desperate need to fight this despite something deep inside him telling him to let it go. "What the hell do you mean training? Are we talking brain washing here? Are you trying to turn me into a freakin' replicate? Your damn, mindless slave?"
"No, Dean, you will be able to think and do things that you normally do on your own but you will not be able to banish me. Or decided unilaterally to act on any of the numerous other self-destructive things that you also normally do. You have a baby to think of now and no baby is ever better off without one of its parents," Castiel instructed forcefully.
Dean opened his mouth to counter when Castiel motioned with his hand, taking Dean's voice for a moment, and announced aggressively, "I'm not debating this with you. It is happening. Now."
A very pissed off Dean glared menacingly at Castiel but he didn't last more than two seconds as feathers suddenly ghosted over his sensitive skin, including his groin. He clenched his jaw and tried to think of something else but he definitely had a huge feather kink. Oil from the wings slowly coated his body in the wake of the continuously moving feathers. His eyes rolled back as his mind vaguely reminded him of the aphrodisiac properties within Castiel's oil. It was really sad that all he could do response to that knowledge was shudder and let out a needy whimper while his imprisoned cock twitched happily, obviously not recognizing something that was definitely not good for the mind it was attached to.
Damn it, his angel was right. I really am a slutty, needy bitch. Son of a bitch!
- SPN - SPN -
With the help of his wings and grace, Castiel had dissolved Dean back down into a mass of shivering need in less than ten minutes. Belatedly, Castiel remembered that Dean still had some residual effects from his last infection. That probably contributed to how quickly Dean was reduced to the creature that moaning wantonly as he withered on the bed. Dean had already tried to move out of his wing range which was really almost impossible considering his wings spanned across the entire room. Even so, Castiel had Dean's shoulders and ankles were pinned to the bed by his grace.
"Cas," Dean whimpered pleadingly with intense need between breathless pants.
Castiel observed Dean objectively from the bedside, or at least, as objectively as he could with Dean's erotic body language telegraphing the most seductive invitation he'd ever witnessed. He figured that Dean was far enough gone to start. He leaned over and gripped Dean's chin tightly. He pulled Dean's chin to face him then ordered firmly, "Look at me, Dean."
Dean's eyes rolled erratically then slowly focused on Castiel. Dean's mind quickly assessed the situation, unknowingly focusing on the glaring differences in their clothing, so he couldn't stop the whimpered complaint, "Clothes. Off. Now. Please."
"First, answer my question," Castiel bargained insistently. Dean withered slightly in response to his wings' movement over his body then focused on Castiel again. Castiel took that as encouragement so he asked, "Were you coming back to me tonight?"
Dean panted honestly, "Yes."
"Why?" Castiel prodded tightly. "Because of the gas? Or because you wanted to?"
Dean huffed with defeat and looked away with heated cheeks while he admitted with conflicted emotions, "Ran out first. Slept. Dreamed. Needed . . . you. Wanted . . . you. Just you. Please."
Castiel smiled slightly as he felt the truth slowly come out of his mate. He leaned over and captured Dean's lips hungrily, wishing he could continue this but needing more out of his mate. Even so, he took time to drinking in Dean's arousing taste. They challenged each other with dueling tongues briefly before Dean just gave in and opened up wider with a heart-felt moan of pleasure. Castiel prolonged the deep, thrusting kiss for a few minutes longer, enjoying the texture and taste of his mate, then reluctantly pulled away.
Breathlessly, he continued his questioning, "Next question." Dean whimpered with disappointment then groaned in frustration. Castiel gently brushed Dean's damp hair back from his forehead. He knew he still couldn't directly ask the big ones so he redirected subtly, "Did you remove the plug when you showered right before I sent you to Bobby's?"
"Wh- what?" Dean stammered out as his befuddled mind stumbled over the question. Castiel patiently repeated the question until Dean finally got it then whimpered plaintively, "Cas."
"Answer the question, Dean," Castiel ordered tautly in a tone that didn't allow for disobedience. "Did you remove it in the shower? Yes or no?"
"No," Dean snapped brokenly, bucking his hips into the feathers ghosting over his groin in an attempt to get some friction but failing.
"When did you?" Castiel continued in the same tone.
"After," Dean gasped and moaned, tossing his head to the side. Castiel's wings hadn't stopped moving during this so Dean's arousal hadn't lessened even the slightest bit. He didn't know how much more he could take. He already felt like his skin was about bursting open from so much intense sensation.
"How long after?" Castiel prodded pointedly.
"After," Dean repeated mindlessly, losing his mind under the waves of arousal.
"How long?"
"Gabriel," Dean panted erratically. "After . . . Gabe . . ."
"After Gabriel woke you again?" Castiel verified insistently.
"Yes," Dean whimpered then huffed angrily at his break, blinking at the stinging in his eyes. He felt some dampness on his face, trailing from his eyes but put it off to Castiel's oil. His mind short circuited at the insistent signals, clamoring for attention, for relief.
Castiel had already done the math and demanded finally, "Is the baby mine?"
"Cas," Dean protested hoarsely with a pathetic whine.
"Stop protecting me, Dean, and answer the question!" Castiel commanded powerfully.
"Yes!" Dean hissed with heat as his head shot up on the bed. "Yes, damn it." His head fell back and he closed his eyes in defeat, uncaring of the tears escaping his eyes at this point. He wasn't even conscious of his silent tears, only that he'd probably signed his mate's death warrant with his weakness.
Castiel couldn't allow himself even an instant to rejoice as he saw Dean's mental walls crumble. He also couldn't drag this out much longer. Luckily he only had one more question. He leaned over and kissed his mate's lips with loving tenderness which Dean sucked up greedily. He felt absolutely no resistance in his mate anymore. All he felt was desperate need as Dean willingly followed his lead, opening his lips and body to whatever Castiel wanted to do with it.
Several pleasure-filled moments later, Castiel barely pulled back and whispered on Dean's lips so that Dean could feel the movement against his own as well as feel Castiel's warm, sweet breath flow over them and into Dean's mouth. Dean shivered in reaction while he heard Castiel tell him, "For that, you get the shirt, and belt."
Castiel leaned back onto his knees on top of the bed and slowly unbuttoned then removed his white dress shirt and finally his belt. Castiel leaned over and let his bared chest rub teasingly over Dean's aroused torso before he captured Dean's lips once again. Their tongues quickly found each other again then proceeded to battle then tease each other until Castiel knew that his mate's body needed air.
Castiel pulled back then kissed and licked his way down Dean's cheek, jaw, then neck until his lips were right under Dean's ear. Dean arched and withered under Castiel, their chests touching and sliding against each other as he did. Castiel barely pulled back again so that Dean once again felt the question by the motion of Castiel's lips against his skin as well as heard it drift slowly into his ear.
Dean shuddered and quaked under Castiel's erotic onslaught then soul-searching question. 'No! Not that one', he screamed out mentally against the unfairness of it all. 'Anything but that.'
Unfortunately, it was already too late. His dominating mate had already asked it and now he had to answer it or go through . . . He closed his dripping eyes and turned away, completely unaware of the broken whine coming from him.
Castiel knew this question would be the worst, which is why he'd saved it for last. Now the really hard part would come. He honestly hoped that Dean wouldn't fight it too much because he knew his human was already at the breaking point. He commanded again forcefully, "Answer the question, Dean."
"No!" Dean snarled out defiantly, unable to do anything else. He couldn't do this. He couldn't give up this, not this. This final secret. This last piece of his . . . No. This was his, and his alone. Somewhere inside his psyche, he knew that he wasn't thinking straight anymore because holding on to this answer suddenly seemed like real life or death for him. He couldn't . . . he . . .
Castiel stared at Dean's flashing wild eyes and narrowed his own. He saw a cornered, wounded man searching for an escape. Any escape. Any way out. Ultimately, he knew as Dean did that there was no escape from this. No matter how much, Dean wanted it otherwise. Escape from this had never been an option.
"Dean," Castiel started sternly.
Dean glared as well as he could while feathers continued to caress him. He barely gritted out, "You first. Why?" He paused for a moment to gasp at the tip of a wing pressing between his ass cheeks and at his tight ring of muscles. He clenched his jaw and hissed quickly, before he lost his mind again, "Why did you mate with me?"
Castiel saw Dean's bid for control and shot it down quickly, "I am the one asking the questions. You are the one answering them. You are mine and you will answer."
"Blow me!" Dean growled defiantly, desperately trying to make a stand as he felt his mind almost melt at the sensation of Castiel's slicked wing tip teasing his entrance.
Castiel smirked evilly and answered, "Gladly."
Castiel trailed his eyes down Dean's sweat glistened body while Dean's wary eyes followed his then he gasped and bucked his hips into the awesome wet warmth of Castiel's mouth. Only Castiel hadn't actually moved an inch. Dean's head fell back slightly in response to the awesome feeling of his mate sucking him off, even if he was using his grace to do it. His body throbbed with excitement, despite the sinking realization that he couldn't hold out against this very long. He whimpered again while he mentally scrambled for some type of defense against this.
"Answer the question, Dean. Answer it then I'll let you come," Castiel bargained encouragingly.
Dean's eyes snapped open at the bargain and he mentally noted that he really needed to start paying attention to when they shut since he didn't remember consciously doing it. He thought back to the question as well as what it reminded him of. Finally, he answered truthfully in a hoarse rasp, "Didn't . . . didn't want . . . couldn't . . . lose . . . couldn't lose you . . . again."
Castiel narrowed his eyes at his stubborn mate. Dean had told the truth but the angel sensed that there was more. No. He knew there was more so he demanded firmly, "Why? Why couldn't you lose me again?"
Dean pressed his lips together mutinously and snarled angrily, "Answered the question. Now do it."
Castiel frowned heavily and continued adamantly, "But you didn't tell the whole truth. Tell the truth, Dean. All of it."
"Shove it, Cas," Dean bit out irately, not giving up and not willing to play this game anymore.
"As you wish," Castiel intoned in exactly the same way as he had when they had first been infected. He snapped his fingers and brought into existence something he really didn't want to but knew would end this for them. One way or another. He knew this was a risky move. He just prayed that he played it right and it didn't backfire in his face.
Dean's eyes widen fearfully at the sudden sight of a tray of 'pleasure' toys that appeared on the bed behind Castiel. They appeared to be the exact same tray of toys that Trini had used to play with Dean for hours his first time . . . His mind stumbled haltingly at the implications as Castiel slowly picked up a well-known toy from the tray. Castiel reached behind him then used his oil soaked hand to slick up the toy before he forcefully shoved it into his mate's entrance with one smooth, non-stop motion.
Dean had tried to close his legs but Castiel's grace had locked them in place. Dean felt the well-oiled toy split him wide open similarly to the way that his mate normally did, in a way that he really liked. Dean threw his head back and arched with a loud groan of pleasure-pain. His hips automatically rolled with the plug while his tight inner muscles clenched tightly around it, giving him the full feeling he had so desperately needed. "Cas," he exhaled.
Mentally, though, he rolled his head and moaned low, only to trail off into a distressed whimper. Memories of that time with Trini flooded him at the sight of the tray. That combined with what Castiel was already doing . . . he couldn't . . .
Castiel saw Dean's eyes dart around and knew he didn't have much time. He gripped his mate's hair and pulled his head back into a submissive angle. He heard Dean let out something between a mewl and a whimper so he commanded harshly, "Tell me, Dean. Why did you stay mated to me? Why couldn't you lose me?"
"Friend," Dean bit out tensely through his tightly clenched jaw. "Best friend."
"No, you wouldn't marry your best friend. There's more. What else?" Castiel prodded insistently.
"No. Nothing," Dean denied weakly, even though he felt his resolve waning. He felt the plug slide out slowly then slam back into him, nailing his prostate dead on. He cursed with frustrated pleasure then his body shuddered violently. He'd felt the painful buildup that wasn't going anywhere until the stupid cock ring was removed. Fresh tears flooded his eyes and he honestly couldn't tell the reason this time.
"What else, damn it?" Castiel demanded sharply. "Punishment? Payback? Boredom?" Dean shook his head in response while Castiel used his grace to continue pounding his mate with each word then added in the feeling of sucking his mate's sorely abused cock. Even though Castiel wanted to taste his mate that way, he needed to keep his eyes on his mate as he interrogated him. "What was it, Dean? Or did you just hate me . . ."
"No! Love," Dean's mouth finally admitted before his mind could stop him again. His mind that was so completely short circuit with at least three major, denied orgasms and counting. His entire body had become a live wire. "Damn it. Love . . . you, stupid feather brain. Son of a bitch. Love you." He whimpered brokenly.
Castiel stared for a long moment, stunned that he'd actually gotten his mate to say it aloud. He heard Dean's broken sob that his mate tried to choke down and immediately latched onto Dean's perfectly lush lips as Castiel's mouth tried to suck all of the despair out of his mate orally. He swiftly willed the rest of his clothes away and covered his mate's sweat-drenched, nude body with his own bare body. He pulled out the plug, lined up his cock and buried himself balls deep inside his mate before Dean even knew his mate was on top. Dean arched his back in reaction to that perfectly full that only Castiel had been able to give him before swiftly moving his legs up and encircling his mate's slender frame. Only then did he become aware that his bonds had fallen away. His hands reached up, sunk deep in Castiel's silky, sex hair and Dean yanked him down for another deep, searching kiss until Castiel yanked away.
"Fuck! Yes!" Dean exclaimed raggedly with sorrowful relief. Physically, he felt renewed but mentally he knew he was utterly destroyed. So he did what he always did and buried himself in the pleasurable physical sensations. He would deal with the rest later.
He felt Castiel pull back and whimpered brokenly at the loss, thinking that he was still being punished, "No . . . no . . . Cas."
Castiel shook his head and panted out quickly, "Have to . . . change positions. About to tie, Dean. Let go. Switch."
Dean tightened his grip in Castiel's hair and hissed out, "Don't care. Want to see you. Now, fuck me, Cas. Damn it."
Dean yanked Castiel down for another kiss and felt his mate sag faintly against him before Castiel yanked his hips back, pulling almost all the way out of his mate, then slammed his hips forward, sinking as far into Dean's tight channel as he could. Dean shuddered and mewled with pleasure then asked pleadingly, "Off, Cas. Take it off."
Castiel was already pulling back out of his mate and knew how close Dean was. His hips thrusted back in hard and fast, causing Dean to slowly moan out Castiel's nickname. Castiel felt his own cock start to thicken even more, signaling that he only had about one thrust left.
He pulled back to the tip of his erection and slammed back in while he flipped the lock on his mate's cock ring, freeing it from its prison, at the same moment that he nailed Dean's prostate hard again. He barely managed to fit his hand over his mark on his mate's arm before he was lost to a sea of pleasurable sensation. He heard Dean's whimpered curses and allowed Dean to hug him in close while Dean's channel tightened all around him. He felt Dean's hot cum splash in long pearly strings between them as Dean marked them both.
"Your wings," Dean rasped out hoarsely with awed wonder.
"What?" Castiel croaked hoarsely, feeling his eyelids droop at the intense pleasure coursing through him. Dean's tight channel pulsed with pleasure around his knotting cock. His mate's muscles milked Castiel's cock demandingly, squeezing and teasing it until the immensely pleasured organ erupted like a geyser. It spray painted then coated Dean's insides with Castiel's thick essence while Castiel let out a muttered curse.
Dean groaned with pleasure at the splash of Castiel's cum filling him to the brim. His channel tightened subconsciously, trying to keep it all within his body. He gasped in reaction but rasped out vaguely, "Your wings. Can see them? Shit, Cas. They're awesome!"
Castiel's vague eyes stared down at Dean as Dean's words penetrated his overwhelmed mind. Castiel pressed his hips tightly up against Dean's ass, trying to get even deeper than balls deep which he already was. Intense pleasure from Dean's words as well as knowledge that Dean had now truly, completely accepted him as a mate caused Castiel's immense arousal to amp up another level and he felt his grace slipping from his control.
Castiel cursed under his breath then ordered tightly, "Close your eyes. Close them now."
Dean stared in wide eyed wonder at the massive black wings that contained a hint of deep blue in every feather, framing his mate's body, and felt his completely spent cock not only twitch. It also started filling with blood to know that this heavenly, majestic creature was buried as deep inside him as he could. He heard Castiel's order and reluctantly closed his eyes, only to hear the high pitched buzzing and have the blinding white light sear the image of Castiel's wings into his eyelids. He smiled happily and held on tightly to his cursing, gasping mate for the duration, thinking that it was going to be hard to top this. But he was looking forward to the attempts.
- SPN - SPN -
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review and let me know what you think.