[FIC] His Place for omgxitsxshiloh
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: His Place
Author: ladyoneill
Recipient: omgxitsxshiloh
Word Count: 2873
Rating: NC17
Warnings: graphic m/m sex, not especially happy sex, and first time sex
Spoilers: Set season 6 but before 6.10
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, the Winchesters or Castiel; if I did, this would happen all the time.
Summary: Dean keeps bugging Castiel and Castiel finally gets annoyed enough to show Dean his place.
Author notes: My recipient wanted forceful, powerful, true angel Cas taking control over a horrified Dean but not pushing into dubcon/noncon. That was hard but I appreciate the challenge. I hope this is close to what was requested! It's definitely not fluffy, though Cas may be more emotional than wanted.
The summons came while he was in the middle of negotiations with the third garrison to leave neutrality and join his side. He ignored it for as long as he could, but the calls--both prayers in his head and on his actual phone--grew more and more persistent until finally the vibrations against his thigh set off his temper. He kept it in check in front of Gardriel and politely asked him to allow for a break, but inside he seethed.
As soon as his brother left the construct of his office, Castiel sent himself to Earth.
*****
Dean was bored. Cas was ignoring him again. Sam was acting all 'I want my soul back' but Dean could tell he was lying. You'd think not having a soul would make you better at lying, but not in Sam's case. As for the rest of the family, Samuel was just creepy, doubly so for cousin It, and Lisa wouldn't return his phone calls. The case they were on--not one of Crowley's alpha hunts--was at a dead end and they'd given up debating on whether or not a return trip to the historical society would be worth anything to just stare at the television and the infomercial that was trying to sell them oxi clean.
"You think Gabriel had something to do with infomercials?" Dean asked out of the blue.
"My brother had nothing to do with selling unwanted items on television," came the cold reply not from Sam.
Yelping in surprise, Dean nearly fell off the bed. By the time he'd gotten his breath back and righted himself, Sam was on his feet, muttering something about the historical society.
"Take several hours," Castiel directed, his eyes focused solely on Dean. "Your brother and I have much to discuss."
"Yeah, you do that," Sam muttered again, grabbing his bag and laptop and exiting the motel room.
Under the intensity of Castiel's eyes, Dean squirmed but still managed to look put upon. "I've been calling you for hours."
"What do you need?" came the brusque reply.
"Um...well, nothing exactly, but we're not getting anywhere on this case or the soul front and..."
Castiel stood even straighter, hands slowly clenching into fists at his sides. His anger was growing, a cold, bitter thing, and he glared at the human, his human sitting before him.
He should be on his knees, came the sudden, quick thought.
"I have told you before, I do not have time to assist you on random hunts and I have no new information on Sam's soul. I am busy, Dean, do you understand that?"
"Then be happy you're taking a break." Dean shot him a quick grin and rose to fetch a couple beers. "Let's have some brews, kick back..."
A hand shot out, wrapping around his bicep, stopping him, and Dean tried to pull away, the smile gone from his face and turned to consternation. "Cas, let go."
"My name is Castiel and you will respect my time and my position," Castiel bit out, squeezing until Dean yelped in pain, then he released him with a shove that sent him falling back onto the bed.
Red faced with anger, Dean snapped, "Then go back to Heaven. Christ, I only wanted to spend some time with you, with my friend, but if you're going to be a dick..."
"Do not blaspheme in front of me." Castiel didn't yell, but the tone of his voice shut Dean up and they both stared at each other.
The anger in Castiel remained a hard, bitter thing, and he began to realize it had been growing for a long time. After his second restoration and his return to Heaven, he'd thought of Dean on occasion, checked in on him, but he'd been busy, much busier than he'd expected, and time had passed. In the year of his falling, he'd forgotten how annoying it had been that first year when Dean had refused to obey, had fought him with words and obstructions, had disrespected him at every turn. Then, he had been under strict orders to protect the Righteous Man. The following year had brought them close, each needing the other, Castiel needing Dean more than he wanted, as he slowly fell to humanity.
But, now...Now, he was more powerful than ever. He was more busy than ever. And, if truth be known, he was more important than ever. He was not at Dean's beck and call.
He just didn't seem to be able to get that across to the stubborn human.
"I am not at your beck and call." Perhaps just saying it.
"I never said you were." Dean glared, still red in the face, and jumped back to his feet. "Just go. I won't call you again."
"If I believed that..." Castiel's thought cut off as Dean wrapped his hands in the lapels of his coat and shoved him away.
"Get out!"
Something inside him snapped, something long locked down into the pit of his grace. Instantly regaining his equilibrium, he shoved back, and this time, he went with him, forcing Dean against the nearest wall and onto his toes. "You forget what I am," he growled, each word distinct from the other.
The red of anger turned to a quick pallor on Dean's face and fear flickered in his eyes. It made Castiel feel...good. He tightened his hold. "What am I, Dean?"
"A dick," Dean replied coldly, but there was tremor in his voice.
Lips tightening in displeasure, Castiel lifted him off his feet, dangling him by the front of his shirt wrapped in one fist. "I am an angel of the Lord." Opening his fist and stepping back, he let Dean fall to his hands and knees.
"What is this?" Dean blustered. "Why are you so pissed?" He started to rise but Castiel glared him back down.
"We all have a breaking point. You have apparently reached mine."
"Then what are you going to do about it?"
In the face of Dean's bravado, Castiel only grew colder and harder and yet...hot with both fury and something new. "I don't belong to you, Dean Winchester. I'm not perching on your shoulder. I'm not here to make your life easier. I have been your partner. I have been your aid. In the future, I may be so again, but I can't be your friend." The blatantly hurt look on Dean's face surprised him, but he held his ground. "We are past that. So very far past that, Dean. It's time we both accepted just what I am."
The trenchcoat slid silently to the floor.
In a blinding moment of clarity Dean got it and the knowledge sent him scrambling backwards until he hit the end of the bed. He could feel his mouth drop and his eyes widen. His throat went dry and fear hit hard.
Yet he couldn't drag his eyes away from Castiel. He watched as those long fingers unknotted the tie, tossed it aside, as those narrow shoulders shrugged out of the suit jacket. He didn't bother with buttons, just drew the shirt over his head. The belt came off next, one loop at a time, and when he dropped it, Dean finally thawed enough to drag himself to his feet.
"No." The problem was, he wasn't sure the denial was to Castiel or to his shockingly hard cock throbbing and pressing against the zipper of his jeans. "Stop it, Cas. This isn't funny," he ground out, but he made no move for the unblocked door.
He was a bit afraid of Castiel stopping him.
"No, it's not. It's been tiresome and a long time in coming."
"You're nuts!" Dean gulped when the angel's fingers went to the fastenings of his trousers. "I'm not gay."
"That has nothing to do with it." The pants dropped and he stepped out of them, then toed off his shoes and socks, leaving him in pale blue boxers.
Obviously tented boxers.
Dean felt himself turning red again and jerked his eyes away. "Has everything to do with it."
"Gender is meaningless to me."
"Well, not to me."
Castiel's eyes narrowed and he didn't look away from Dean's crotch. "Your protests might mean something if you were not erect."
"Shit, Cas!"
"You desire me. Tomorrow you may deny it all you want and retreat safely behind the wall of your heterosexual lies, but tonight you belong to me."
"And if I say no?" Dean asked. It came out much more belligerent then he felt because what he felt was lost and his throbbing cock wasn't helping. Silently he cursed the thing and tried to look everywhere but at Castiel.
"You won't."
Their eyes met, held, and Dean saw everything he wanted and didn't want to acknowledge in the angel's blue orbs. Power. Desire. Lust. And a frightening lack of control within such complete control.
"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel growled again as he stalked towards Dean. "What does that mean?"
"...Warrior."
"And what does a warrior do?" A small, almost smug smile was on his lips.
Dean gulped again, his mouth and throat bone dry, and croaked out, "Conquers?"
"Will you tell me no?"
Slowly Dean shook his head and surrendered.
Their first kiss was soft. It surprised Dean. He expected his mouth to be plundered. He hadn't seen this side of Castiel in years and he'd forgotten how powerful he was. Just exactly what he was.
Inhuman and fucking scary. He didn't think he'd hurt him...but he wasn't completely sure...and that made his cock ache even more and he didn't understand why.
The kiss, however, was soft, testing and tasting and not scary. Also, not that different from kissing a woman. Castiel's hands went to his biceps but didn't squeeze or force, just held them loosely. Dean let his hands dangle, still unsure, but he returned the kiss, opening his mouth and meeting Castiel's tongue in exploratory licks.
"You have too many clothes on."
Nodding, Dean dropped his eyes and watched as his clothes were stripped from him, one item at a time. He didn't hinder, but he didn't actively help either. He was still confused. His dick wanted this, but his head was a mess. When he was naked, he blushed and thought about covering himself with his hands but Castiel was doing it for him, wrapping those warm fingers around the shaft of his cock.
Dean gasped softly. "Um...I've never...not with a guy."
"Neither have I, but I know what I want," Castiel murmured against his throat, making him gulp again. "Get on your hands and knees on the bed."
His laugh was slightly hysterical. "No more foreplay?"
"You are erect. I am erect. Why do we need more?" He released Dean and pushed him back onto the bed.
"Shit, Jesus." At Castiel's hard look, he ducked his head. "Sorry, sorry. I just..." He found himself face to crotch with the angel and lifted one hesitant hand to cup the bulge in his shorts. "Can I at least see it before you stick it in me?"
Castiel enjoyed the petulant look on Dean's face and he ran one hand over his head, then nodded. He felt Dean's cheek tic nervously against his palm and could see how uneasy he was as he hesitated at the elastic waistband for nearly a minute before yanking down the shorts. As Castiel stepped from them, he watched Dean's eyes widen again.
"That isn't going to fit."
Leaning down and cupping Dean's cheeks, he murmured, "By the time I'm done with you, it will, and you'll enjoy it." He kissed him, one hard, passionate kiss, then pointed to the bed. "On your hands and knees."
Castiel didn't bother to see if he was being obeyed, instead, turning to fish through Dean's duffle until he found lotion suitable for lubricant. When he turned back, Dean was in position and he watched as his arms trembled, then stiffened as the foot of the bed sank beneath Castiel's knees. Crawling forward, he parted Dean's feet and moved between them, then rose to cup and caress his buttocks.
"I'm really not sure of this," he protested after he yelped at the first touch.
"I am."
"Shit," Dean muttered and dropped his head, then fell to his elbows and reached up to drag a pillow under his face. "Just do it."
Castiel's hands didn't stop caressing, but his voice chilled. "So, you can tell me this wasn't your choice? No, Dean. I don't take orders from you, but I will allow you to beg me."
"Arrogant son of a..." Dean squealed in shock as one lubed finger pushed into him. It burned and his cock flagged in response. Gasping for breath, he tried to relax, but the last time a finger had been up him had been during a cavity search and that hadn't been enjoyable either.
"Relax."
"Trying," he gritted out, then buried his face in the pillow and silently counted to ten. The tension eased and he forced his muscles to go lax. The finger slipped out, then returned slicker and with less pain. After a few minutes of pumping, a second finger joined the first, and Dean tensed again, but relaxed more quickly.
And then the fingers spread and one brushed that spot inside him and he saw stars.
Castiel smiled slightly as Dean shuddered and moaned, not in pain this time. He pressed against the prostate again and Dean bucked backwards onto his fingers. With his other hand, he caressed the base of his spine, then over his hips, before running up his back and making him shiver. When he gripped the brand on his shoulder, he pushed in a third finger.
Dean yelled in a confused mixture of pleasure and pain and shook from head to foot.
"Relax," Castiel said again, his voice soft this time, as one hand pumped inside him and the other caressed his mark.
"Shit...Gonna...gonna come...Cas, touch...please."
Leaning over his back, Castiel whispered, "Not until I'm buried balls deep inside you," and it was so porntastic that Dean felt his own balls draw up and knew his cock was dripping onto the bed beneath him.
"Then do it." Dean's voice was broken, but he didn't care as he begged, "Please, do it."
Keeping one hand on the brand, Castiel removed the other from Dean's clinging body and watched as the slack muscle tried to rebound. Before it could, he rose higher on his knees and guided the tip of his cock into the slick, reddened hole.
Dean's cry of pleasure made him shudder with his own desire. It was a desire he'd kept banked for years, mostly ignoring it, and now he couldn't understand why he had.
This was where he was meant to be.
Buried balls deep in his human.
With a satisfactory grunt, he was, and Dean wailed and came in hard spasms and without any physical stimulation.
As Dean slumped onto his shoulder, panting hard and trembling, Castiel drove into him again and again, one hand kneading his hip, the other pressed into the brand, until he climaxed as well his cock pulsing against the tight walls of Dean's passage and soothing them both with warm, wetness.
Breathing hard, he pulled out and watched with a sense of approval as Dean remained submissive beneath him, still panting and gasping and twitching. Castiel cocked his head and watched as his semen dripped out of Dean to mingle with his own on the sheets between his spread legs.
He found he enjoyed the sight.
Slowly Dean roused himself and winced as the muscles in his thighs and ass twinged. There was an ache at the base of his spine and his cock felt raw and wrung out. And he was dripping, his inner thighs growing slick. Making a face, he turned onto his side away from the wet spot, but couldn't get away as he was still caught with Castiel kneeling between his legs.
"Move, dude," he said tiredly.
Castiel did, moving over and behind him and wrapping him in his arms. "I am surprised by how much I like seeing you marked with my semen."
"Gross, Cas."
After you have rested, I think I want you on your knees. I want to see my semen on your lips."
"I don't blow guys," Dean protested.
Castiel tightened his hold and pushed one knee between Dean's thighs. "Yes, well, apparently you don't let guys fuck you either...but then you do." He smiled at the red that spread over Dean's cheek and began to nibble at the nape of his neck.
"I don't think I like this side of you."
Sliding one hand down his chest and stomach, Castiel found his wet cock hardening again. "I think you're wrong, Dean. I think you like this very much, but, even if you don't...." His hand tightened and he pumped until Dean gave a strangled cry and arched back against him. "This is what I am, Dean."
"Angel," Dean gasped out. "Got it."
"And I have you," Castiel whispered a promise before parting Dean's legs and pushing his cock back inside him.
End
Title: His Place
Author: ladyoneill
Recipient: omgxitsxshiloh
Word Count: 2873
Rating: NC17
Warnings: graphic m/m sex, not especially happy sex, and first time sex
Spoilers: Set season 6 but before 6.10
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, the Winchesters or Castiel; if I did, this would happen all the time.
Summary: Dean keeps bugging Castiel and Castiel finally gets annoyed enough to show Dean his place.
Author notes: My recipient wanted forceful, powerful, true angel Cas taking control over a horrified Dean but not pushing into dubcon/noncon. That was hard but I appreciate the challenge. I hope this is close to what was requested! It's definitely not fluffy, though Cas may be more emotional than wanted.
The summons came while he was in the middle of negotiations with the third garrison to leave neutrality and join his side. He ignored it for as long as he could, but the calls--both prayers in his head and on his actual phone--grew more and more persistent until finally the vibrations against his thigh set off his temper. He kept it in check in front of Gardriel and politely asked him to allow for a break, but inside he seethed.
As soon as his brother left the construct of his office, Castiel sent himself to Earth.
*****
Dean was bored. Cas was ignoring him again. Sam was acting all 'I want my soul back' but Dean could tell he was lying. You'd think not having a soul would make you better at lying, but not in Sam's case. As for the rest of the family, Samuel was just creepy, doubly so for cousin It, and Lisa wouldn't return his phone calls. The case they were on--not one of Crowley's alpha hunts--was at a dead end and they'd given up debating on whether or not a return trip to the historical society would be worth anything to just stare at the television and the infomercial that was trying to sell them oxi clean.
"You think Gabriel had something to do with infomercials?" Dean asked out of the blue.
"My brother had nothing to do with selling unwanted items on television," came the cold reply not from Sam.
Yelping in surprise, Dean nearly fell off the bed. By the time he'd gotten his breath back and righted himself, Sam was on his feet, muttering something about the historical society.
"Take several hours," Castiel directed, his eyes focused solely on Dean. "Your brother and I have much to discuss."
"Yeah, you do that," Sam muttered again, grabbing his bag and laptop and exiting the motel room.
Under the intensity of Castiel's eyes, Dean squirmed but still managed to look put upon. "I've been calling you for hours."
"What do you need?" came the brusque reply.
"Um...well, nothing exactly, but we're not getting anywhere on this case or the soul front and..."
Castiel stood even straighter, hands slowly clenching into fists at his sides. His anger was growing, a cold, bitter thing, and he glared at the human, his human sitting before him.
He should be on his knees, came the sudden, quick thought.
"I have told you before, I do not have time to assist you on random hunts and I have no new information on Sam's soul. I am busy, Dean, do you understand that?"
"Then be happy you're taking a break." Dean shot him a quick grin and rose to fetch a couple beers. "Let's have some brews, kick back..."
A hand shot out, wrapping around his bicep, stopping him, and Dean tried to pull away, the smile gone from his face and turned to consternation. "Cas, let go."
"My name is Castiel and you will respect my time and my position," Castiel bit out, squeezing until Dean yelped in pain, then he released him with a shove that sent him falling back onto the bed.
Red faced with anger, Dean snapped, "Then go back to Heaven. Christ, I only wanted to spend some time with you, with my friend, but if you're going to be a dick..."
"Do not blaspheme in front of me." Castiel didn't yell, but the tone of his voice shut Dean up and they both stared at each other.
The anger in Castiel remained a hard, bitter thing, and he began to realize it had been growing for a long time. After his second restoration and his return to Heaven, he'd thought of Dean on occasion, checked in on him, but he'd been busy, much busier than he'd expected, and time had passed. In the year of his falling, he'd forgotten how annoying it had been that first year when Dean had refused to obey, had fought him with words and obstructions, had disrespected him at every turn. Then, he had been under strict orders to protect the Righteous Man. The following year had brought them close, each needing the other, Castiel needing Dean more than he wanted, as he slowly fell to humanity.
But, now...Now, he was more powerful than ever. He was more busy than ever. And, if truth be known, he was more important than ever. He was not at Dean's beck and call.
He just didn't seem to be able to get that across to the stubborn human.
"I am not at your beck and call." Perhaps just saying it.
"I never said you were." Dean glared, still red in the face, and jumped back to his feet. "Just go. I won't call you again."
"If I believed that..." Castiel's thought cut off as Dean wrapped his hands in the lapels of his coat and shoved him away.
"Get out!"
Something inside him snapped, something long locked down into the pit of his grace. Instantly regaining his equilibrium, he shoved back, and this time, he went with him, forcing Dean against the nearest wall and onto his toes. "You forget what I am," he growled, each word distinct from the other.
The red of anger turned to a quick pallor on Dean's face and fear flickered in his eyes. It made Castiel feel...good. He tightened his hold. "What am I, Dean?"
"A dick," Dean replied coldly, but there was tremor in his voice.
Lips tightening in displeasure, Castiel lifted him off his feet, dangling him by the front of his shirt wrapped in one fist. "I am an angel of the Lord." Opening his fist and stepping back, he let Dean fall to his hands and knees.
"What is this?" Dean blustered. "Why are you so pissed?" He started to rise but Castiel glared him back down.
"We all have a breaking point. You have apparently reached mine."
"Then what are you going to do about it?"
In the face of Dean's bravado, Castiel only grew colder and harder and yet...hot with both fury and something new. "I don't belong to you, Dean Winchester. I'm not perching on your shoulder. I'm not here to make your life easier. I have been your partner. I have been your aid. In the future, I may be so again, but I can't be your friend." The blatantly hurt look on Dean's face surprised him, but he held his ground. "We are past that. So very far past that, Dean. It's time we both accepted just what I am."
The trenchcoat slid silently to the floor.
In a blinding moment of clarity Dean got it and the knowledge sent him scrambling backwards until he hit the end of the bed. He could feel his mouth drop and his eyes widen. His throat went dry and fear hit hard.
Yet he couldn't drag his eyes away from Castiel. He watched as those long fingers unknotted the tie, tossed it aside, as those narrow shoulders shrugged out of the suit jacket. He didn't bother with buttons, just drew the shirt over his head. The belt came off next, one loop at a time, and when he dropped it, Dean finally thawed enough to drag himself to his feet.
"No." The problem was, he wasn't sure the denial was to Castiel or to his shockingly hard cock throbbing and pressing against the zipper of his jeans. "Stop it, Cas. This isn't funny," he ground out, but he made no move for the unblocked door.
He was a bit afraid of Castiel stopping him.
"No, it's not. It's been tiresome and a long time in coming."
"You're nuts!" Dean gulped when the angel's fingers went to the fastenings of his trousers. "I'm not gay."
"That has nothing to do with it." The pants dropped and he stepped out of them, then toed off his shoes and socks, leaving him in pale blue boxers.
Obviously tented boxers.
Dean felt himself turning red again and jerked his eyes away. "Has everything to do with it."
"Gender is meaningless to me."
"Well, not to me."
Castiel's eyes narrowed and he didn't look away from Dean's crotch. "Your protests might mean something if you were not erect."
"Shit, Cas!"
"You desire me. Tomorrow you may deny it all you want and retreat safely behind the wall of your heterosexual lies, but tonight you belong to me."
"And if I say no?" Dean asked. It came out much more belligerent then he felt because what he felt was lost and his throbbing cock wasn't helping. Silently he cursed the thing and tried to look everywhere but at Castiel.
"You won't."
Their eyes met, held, and Dean saw everything he wanted and didn't want to acknowledge in the angel's blue orbs. Power. Desire. Lust. And a frightening lack of control within such complete control.
"I am an angel of the Lord," Castiel growled again as he stalked towards Dean. "What does that mean?"
"...Warrior."
"And what does a warrior do?" A small, almost smug smile was on his lips.
Dean gulped again, his mouth and throat bone dry, and croaked out, "Conquers?"
"Will you tell me no?"
Slowly Dean shook his head and surrendered.
Their first kiss was soft. It surprised Dean. He expected his mouth to be plundered. He hadn't seen this side of Castiel in years and he'd forgotten how powerful he was. Just exactly what he was.
Inhuman and fucking scary. He didn't think he'd hurt him...but he wasn't completely sure...and that made his cock ache even more and he didn't understand why.
The kiss, however, was soft, testing and tasting and not scary. Also, not that different from kissing a woman. Castiel's hands went to his biceps but didn't squeeze or force, just held them loosely. Dean let his hands dangle, still unsure, but he returned the kiss, opening his mouth and meeting Castiel's tongue in exploratory licks.
"You have too many clothes on."
Nodding, Dean dropped his eyes and watched as his clothes were stripped from him, one item at a time. He didn't hinder, but he didn't actively help either. He was still confused. His dick wanted this, but his head was a mess. When he was naked, he blushed and thought about covering himself with his hands but Castiel was doing it for him, wrapping those warm fingers around the shaft of his cock.
Dean gasped softly. "Um...I've never...not with a guy."
"Neither have I, but I know what I want," Castiel murmured against his throat, making him gulp again. "Get on your hands and knees on the bed."
His laugh was slightly hysterical. "No more foreplay?"
"You are erect. I am erect. Why do we need more?" He released Dean and pushed him back onto the bed.
"Shit, Jesus." At Castiel's hard look, he ducked his head. "Sorry, sorry. I just..." He found himself face to crotch with the angel and lifted one hesitant hand to cup the bulge in his shorts. "Can I at least see it before you stick it in me?"
Castiel enjoyed the petulant look on Dean's face and he ran one hand over his head, then nodded. He felt Dean's cheek tic nervously against his palm and could see how uneasy he was as he hesitated at the elastic waistband for nearly a minute before yanking down the shorts. As Castiel stepped from them, he watched Dean's eyes widen again.
"That isn't going to fit."
Leaning down and cupping Dean's cheeks, he murmured, "By the time I'm done with you, it will, and you'll enjoy it." He kissed him, one hard, passionate kiss, then pointed to the bed. "On your hands and knees."
Castiel didn't bother to see if he was being obeyed, instead, turning to fish through Dean's duffle until he found lotion suitable for lubricant. When he turned back, Dean was in position and he watched as his arms trembled, then stiffened as the foot of the bed sank beneath Castiel's knees. Crawling forward, he parted Dean's feet and moved between them, then rose to cup and caress his buttocks.
"I'm really not sure of this," he protested after he yelped at the first touch.
"I am."
"Shit," Dean muttered and dropped his head, then fell to his elbows and reached up to drag a pillow under his face. "Just do it."
Castiel's hands didn't stop caressing, but his voice chilled. "So, you can tell me this wasn't your choice? No, Dean. I don't take orders from you, but I will allow you to beg me."
"Arrogant son of a..." Dean squealed in shock as one lubed finger pushed into him. It burned and his cock flagged in response. Gasping for breath, he tried to relax, but the last time a finger had been up him had been during a cavity search and that hadn't been enjoyable either.
"Relax."
"Trying," he gritted out, then buried his face in the pillow and silently counted to ten. The tension eased and he forced his muscles to go lax. The finger slipped out, then returned slicker and with less pain. After a few minutes of pumping, a second finger joined the first, and Dean tensed again, but relaxed more quickly.
And then the fingers spread and one brushed that spot inside him and he saw stars.
Castiel smiled slightly as Dean shuddered and moaned, not in pain this time. He pressed against the prostate again and Dean bucked backwards onto his fingers. With his other hand, he caressed the base of his spine, then over his hips, before running up his back and making him shiver. When he gripped the brand on his shoulder, he pushed in a third finger.
Dean yelled in a confused mixture of pleasure and pain and shook from head to foot.
"Relax," Castiel said again, his voice soft this time, as one hand pumped inside him and the other caressed his mark.
"Shit...Gonna...gonna come...Cas, touch...please."
Leaning over his back, Castiel whispered, "Not until I'm buried balls deep inside you," and it was so porntastic that Dean felt his own balls draw up and knew his cock was dripping onto the bed beneath him.
"Then do it." Dean's voice was broken, but he didn't care as he begged, "Please, do it."
Keeping one hand on the brand, Castiel removed the other from Dean's clinging body and watched as the slack muscle tried to rebound. Before it could, he rose higher on his knees and guided the tip of his cock into the slick, reddened hole.
Dean's cry of pleasure made him shudder with his own desire. It was a desire he'd kept banked for years, mostly ignoring it, and now he couldn't understand why he had.
This was where he was meant to be.
Buried balls deep in his human.
With a satisfactory grunt, he was, and Dean wailed and came in hard spasms and without any physical stimulation.
As Dean slumped onto his shoulder, panting hard and trembling, Castiel drove into him again and again, one hand kneading his hip, the other pressed into the brand, until he climaxed as well his cock pulsing against the tight walls of Dean's passage and soothing them both with warm, wetness.
Breathing hard, he pulled out and watched with a sense of approval as Dean remained submissive beneath him, still panting and gasping and twitching. Castiel cocked his head and watched as his semen dripped out of Dean to mingle with his own on the sheets between his spread legs.
He found he enjoyed the sight.
Slowly Dean roused himself and winced as the muscles in his thighs and ass twinged. There was an ache at the base of his spine and his cock felt raw and wrung out. And he was dripping, his inner thighs growing slick. Making a face, he turned onto his side away from the wet spot, but couldn't get away as he was still caught with Castiel kneeling between his legs.
"Move, dude," he said tiredly.
Castiel did, moving over and behind him and wrapping him in his arms. "I am surprised by how much I like seeing you marked with my semen."
"Gross, Cas."
After you have rested, I think I want you on your knees. I want to see my semen on your lips."
"I don't blow guys," Dean protested.
Castiel tightened his hold and pushed one knee between Dean's thighs. "Yes, well, apparently you don't let guys fuck you either...but then you do." He smiled at the red that spread over Dean's cheek and began to nibble at the nape of his neck.
"I don't think I like this side of you."
Sliding one hand down his chest and stomach, Castiel found his wet cock hardening again. "I think you're wrong, Dean. I think you like this very much, but, even if you don't...." His hand tightened and he pumped until Dean gave a strangled cry and arched back against him. "This is what I am, Dean."
"Angel," Dean gasped out. "Got it."
"And I have you," Castiel whispered a promise before parting Dean's legs and pushing his cock back inside him.
End