"What?" Winchester asks, confused. There is no way in hell that the blue-eyed agent has just said that.
Castiel grabs the leather jacket Dean is still wearing, shaking the man slightly. "You," he growls low and deep, "and your stupid arrogance make me furious."
Dean's confusion gets worse and it seems that today is Castiel's lucky day, as he doesn't meet any resistance when he slams Dean against the metal bars. Small clicks inform the criminal that his hands are securely handcuffed above his head to the bars.
"Hey, hey, what the hell, man?" Dean shouts in dismay. His voice sounds somewhat muffled against the metal bars, as Castiel's hand is pressing his face to them.
"I'm merely keeping my promise," Novak grabs Dean's hair, yanking his head back. "I remember you asked for my dick to be used against you, or am I wrong?" The blue-eyed man bites down on the bare skin where Dean's neck meets his shoulder.
Winchester swallows hard; his breath is coming out in hot huffs, as surges of excitement spread fast through his body, sending all the blood down to his dick.
"I-I said that, yeah," he rasps. "But I really don't want that guard to walk in on us." He can't help it and a small whimper escapes his parted lips when Castiel ruts against his ass.
Castiel chuckles. "Don't you worry about him. The man is watching a baseball game and does not care about us. So, you better start talking, Dean, for your own sake."
Novak's fingers work fast, unfastening Dean's belt and unbuttoning the criminal's jeans. He tugs them down together with the green-eyed man's boxers down to his ankles. Castiel admires the sight before his eyes: the tanned, firm, and perky ass with smooth skin. He can hear Dean's labored breathing and knows that the criminal is as aroused as he is. Novak's hand slides under the younger man's t-shirt, feeling the taught muscles of his abdomen. His fingers reach Dean's left nipple, ribbing it softly between his fingers.
"Cas…" Dean moans and desperately tries to press his ass to Castiel's groin. "Please…"
Winchester tries to look back and see what Castiel is doing when he hears some shuffling. "What are you doing?" he asks with a broken voice.
The blue-eyed man does not answer, simply pulls something out of his back pocket. As it turns out, it's a lube. Dean barks out a laugh when he sees the thing in Castiel's hand.
"You came prepared, didn't you? You kinky son of a bitch!"
"Shut your mouth, Winchester!" Novak orders strictly and Dean shivers in excitement from the sheer power of Castiel's voice.
The brunet squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together, before sliding one into Dean's tight heat.
"Oh God," Dean moans, banging his head against the bars.
"Yes, I suppose you will need his help soon," Castiel says and Dean can swear that he hears a smirk in the FBI agent's voice.
"What are you talking about?" the criminal asks, trying to fuck down on Castiel's finger that quickly becomes two.
"You will see," Novak responds, slowly and carefully stretching Dean's hole, sliding his fingers in and out carefully. He's not in hurry, he can be very patient.
"I don't under… Oh, fuck!" Dean jolts up, when Novak's fingers rub against his prostate. "Oh, God yessss… right there! Cas… fuck… fuck don't stop!"
"That's the intention," Castiel grins wickedly and before Dean asks what the hell he is talking about, something cold slides down the green-eyed man's cock.
"Cas? Hey, what is this?" Dean sounds slightly frightened and for a second Castiel feels sorry for him.
"If you answer my previous questions, which you have left unanswered, I promise I will take it off of you," Novak closes his fist around Dean's cock, pumping it a few times. The ring has securely trapped the criminal's erect member and he won't have to worry that it may slide off. "But if you try to play a tough guy, then I am afraid it will stay on and you will feel all the 'delights' it can bring you."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Dean bites his lip, struggling against the handcuffs.
"Oh, really?" the FBI agent smirks. "I think I should remind you then?" He starts rubbing Dean's prostate again, with precise, slow motions.
A loud moan rips out of Winchester's mouth, when Castiel's touches become harder and faster. The damn thing at the base of his cock is bothering him so much.
"Tell me about your helpers, Dean," Novak presses his fingers to Dean's prostate. "Things will only get worse if you don't start talking and I can already see how much you want to come," the blue-eyed man whispers into the criminal's ear.
"I have nothing to tell you, Cas." Dean whines loud when the onslaught on his secret spot gets overwhelming.
"Dean, I can do this for hours, you know," Castiel sighs. His own arousal is getting unbearable.
Winchester's whole body is shaking and he feels like exploding but his pride and arrogance are stronger. Dean doesn't know how long he will be able to hold on but he will try as long as possible.
"I will not tell you anything," he rasps, licking his dried lips.
"Wrong answer," Castiel shakes his head with regret. It seems that breaking Dean Winchester is not that easy. "I will make you talk, Dean. I swear!"
Novak squeezes more lube onto his fingers, slicking his dick thoroughly. He quickly pulls his own pants and boxers down. With his left hand Castiel grabs Dean's hip, while his right hand guides his aching member into the burning heat of the green-eyed man.
With one swift thrust, Castiel is in, setting a fast and punishing pace.
"Start talking, Dean!" he growls, grasping Winchester's hair. "I will not let you come until you answer my question!" Novak keeps slamming into him, pounding into Dean's prostate with each precise thrust.
Winchester is a quivering, sweating, and whimpering mess under Castiel's body. It's so bad that his hands are handcuffed to those damned bars, otherwise he would rip off this fucking metal ring that has his dick on fire.
"Cas," Dean pleads. "Please, take it off of me! It hurts!"
"Answer my questions, Dean." Castiel is ruthless, sliding in and out of the younger man with fast and hard thrusts.
Dean lets out a choked scream when the brunet makes another efficient slam into his prostate. His heart feels like leaping out and whole body falling apart.
"I didn't… didn't have any partners in crime," Dean lets out a broken sob. "I acted alone."
Castiel stops moving, considering the words the criminal said. Probably Dean deserved to be free from the cock ring.
"Cas, please release me from the handcuffs and take this damn ring off of me. I will tell you everything, I swear," Dean begs suddenly.
"Sure, so you could fool me and escape?" Castiel laughs heartily.
Dean shakes his head. "I will answer all your questions and no, I will not escape. I swear upon my mother's grave."
Novak flinches. Dean's words make his heart drop. Castiel had lost his mother due to illness when he was seven, and has had a weak spot for people without mothers since then.
The blue-eyed man grabs Dean by his chin, turning the younger man's face towards him. He stares into the green eyes before him, not detecting any lies in them.
"Alright," Castiel says after a small hesitation. "But if you break your word…"
"I won't," Dean assures him. "I just want to touch you." Dean hisses a little when Castiel pulls out of him.
With rapid movements the handcuffs are taken off and Winchester sighs in relief – one problem down, one to go!
Castiel turns him around, pressing to the metal bars. "I am warning you again, Dean. If you…" he never finishes as Winchester cups his face, shutting up the blue-eyed man with a mindblowing kiss he plants on his lips.
Neither of them speak for a while, while they bite and kiss. Dean's hands sneak under Castiel's shirt, roaming over his back.
"Wanted you… wanted you to fuck me for so many years, Cas," Dean moans and bites down on Novak's bottom lip. "Every night I would imagine what you would feel like inside me. Come on, take me!"
Castiel growls, low and possessively. He swats at Dean's hand, which wants to rip the damn cock ring off.
"Not yet!" he says briefly, making Dean whine in frustration.
Next minutes are a blur for Dean. He does not remember how they both get rid of their clothes, discarding them on the floor carelessly, how Castiel manages to lift and press him to the metal bars, wrapping his legs around his waist, how his fingers dig into the blue-eyed man's biceps and how he makes those embarrassing, loud whimpers when Castiel pounds into him, how the agent's hand finally removes the damn cock ring and pumps his dick before Dean explodes, shatters into million pieces under Novak's sweaty body and paints his abdomen with hot semen, while Castiel keeps fucking him mercilessly, chasing after his own release…
Castiel must've dozed off after such brain melting fucking, as he does not remember any of what has followed afterwards.
Novak frowns when he finds himself standing and facing the metal bars, where he had Dean pressed not so long ago. Castiel takes a good look at himself: he's stark naked and handcuffed to the bars. The blue-eyed man shakes his head and tugs at the handcuffs. No, it can't be true. He's probably sleeping and having a nightmare.
"Hey, Cas!" A familiar voice greets him and a very smirking Dean Winchester appears from behind his back. The criminal is clothed, unlike Castiel.
"Dean!" Castiel growls dangerously. "This is not funny! Untie me, right now!"
"And why should I do that? You look great like that, Cas. My eyes like what they see," Dean laughs. His deep, pleasant voice fills the cell.
"Dean, don't make things worse," Castiel warns but the criminal does not care.
"I said I would answer your questions. I will keep my word and tell you everything: I had no partners in crime, my next target was Continental National Bank of Miami and I didn't have any specific strategies for my robberies." Dean's hand slides down from Castiel neck to his tailbone, grabbing the left buttock of Novak's ass, squeezing it hard.
"Cas, how old are you?" he asks suddenly. Of course Dean is perfectly aware that Novak is thirty-four but he wants to hear it from the agent.
"W-what?" Castiel stutters, blinking confused.
"I asked how old are you?"
"I'm thirty-four. Why are you asking?" Castiel turns his head towards Dean with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Thirty-four blows then," Winchester hums. "For all the troubles you've put me through, you shall receive thirty four blows on your pretty ass."
"Dean what are you…" Castiel jumps startled when Dean smacks his bare rear and a loud "thwak" echoes in the cell.
"Two," says Dean slapping Novak's right cheek.
"Stop it!" Castiel struggles against his restraints.
"No, thirty-two more to come," the green eyed man smirks.
Castiel has no other choice other than to grit his teeth and wait till Dean finishes spanking him. He closes his eyes, heat of embarrassment coloring his face.
"Thirty-four," Dean announces victoriously. He admires his work: Castiel's ass is red, with his handprints all over it.
"You know, I would not mind staying for a while and fucking you up against those bars, but I am afraid I need to hurry, before the guard senses something." Dean catches Castiel's lips in a quick, heated kiss. "Sorry, Cas but I can't untie you. You will prevent me from escaping." Winchester caresses the smaller man's reddened skin.
"Escaping? But… but you swore, Dean." Castiel sounds so heartbroken that Dean swallows hard and feels like shit for deceiving the man.
"My mother never was buried. We cremated her. I'm sorry for lying to you." Dean takes the keys for handcuffs out of his pocket, putting it at Castiel's feet. "I know you are very flexible and you will manage to free yourself. And before you do that, I will have enough time to sneak out of here. Good bye, Cas. Maybe we will meet again one day but in different circumstances." The kiss Dean plants on Novak's lips tastes bittersweet, like a final kiss. Before Castiel's hazed mind understand what the hell is happening, Winchester walks out of the cell with the firm decision to leave the police station as soon as possible.
Two years later
Castiel is sitting on a chair on the beach in Panama, sipping a cold drink when his cell phone buzzes, informing the owner about an incoming message.
The former FBI agent grumbles as someone disturbs his quiet. Castiel leans over the chair to grab his phone and opens the message from an unknown sender:
"Hey, Cas. Did you miss me? ;)"
Novak frowns. Doubts already stirring in his mind.
"Dean?" He sends the reply quickly.
"You got that right, handsome," comes the reply.
"Where are you? Robbed another bank and hiding from police?" Castiel asks curiously.
"Nope. That business is in past. I own a small bar in Panama now and I'm enjoying life."
Castiel's heartbeat increases. "In Panama?"
"Yes. Would you like to meet? I know you're in Panama. ;)"
Novak falls silent. How does Dean know that he's in Panama? The blue-eyed man does not know what he should think about the former criminal after what he did to him two years ago in the states.
"How do you know that I'm in Panama?" Castiel types impatiently.
"I am looking at you, Cas :)"
Novak jumps in his seat, the cell phone falling out of his hand. He stands up looking around frantically. After a few minutes of searching through a crowd on the beach, his gaze lands on a young man wearing black shorts and a red t-shirt. The man is wearing dark sunglasses and has a week old ginger beard, but Castiel can still recognize Dean in him.
The green-eyed man walks slowly towards Castiel, smiling slightly. As the distance shortens between them, Castiel feels lightheaded; blood rushes through his veins and ears begin to ring.
"Hello Agent Novak," Dean takes his sunglasses off. His green eyes are twinkling with a mischievous light.
"He… hello, Dean," Novak swallows hard, clearing his throat.
Dean looks around at roaming, laughing and noisy people. They are busy with their own business and no one cares about two strange guys who are standing a bit too close, devouring each other with their eyes.
"Um… Cas. I… I wanted to ask you. Would you be willing to start with a clean slate?" Dean asks, rubbing his neck awkwardly.
Castiel Novak stares at the man before him, studying his features attentively. Dean Winchester is the main reason he left his job. He couldn't stand the failure and shame (despite Dean's hopes, Castiel never managed to free himself from handcuffs and it was Ethan who found naked Novak tied to the bars).
"Aren't you afraid that I will turn you in to the police?" Castiel squints his eyes.
Dean laughs. "No. I know you well enough to know you would not do that. And besides, you don't work at FBI anymore."
The brunet falls silent and then lets out a shuddering breath. "I know that I have all rights to strangle you Dean Winchester, and I know it makes me look like a man who has lost his mind but damn you, I say yes." Castiel shake his head, not believing that he's saying it.
Dean smiles, wide and bright. "I'm glad to hear it."
Winchester steps closer, wrapping his arms around the smaller man, tugging and pressing him to his broad chest.
They kiss, sweet and tender. Dean pours all his emotions into it, caressing Castiel's back fondly. When there is no air to breathe, they break the kiss, panting slightly.
"Come, I want to show you my place." Dean squeezes his hand gently.
Castiel follows him into the yellow sand, listening to seagulls screaming in the sky. The ocean behind them welcomes the setting sun into its embrace, murmuring the secrets of the universe to it.