Fic: Patronage (SPN)
Title: Patronage
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Cas/Dick Roman
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, breathplay, dubious consent
Spoilers: Through known spoilers for 7.17
Dick Roman visits on Thursdays.
- - -
He wakes from the accident with bandages on his head, a cast on his wrist, and no memory of who he is. The bracelet on his good arm says his name is John Doe and that he’d been brought in almost a week ago. The nurses say they were surprised he’d woken up. There was a car accident, they say; he’d fallen asleep at the wheel and driven into a reservoir. Luckily, a prominent businessman had witnessed the accident. He visits on Thursdays, the nurses say. You’ll want to thank him.
The monitors beep above his bed. Somewhere down the hall, alarms sound, and a flurry of sprinting footsteps and shouted orders follow. He wonders if whoever they’re rushing to save would make it. He wonders if they have a family; if they have friends; if they are loved. If they have a name.
“Your name is Cas,” the businessman says, dropping his briefcase next to the single armchair.
“Cas.” It sounds strange on his tongue. “Do I have a last name?”
Dick Roman shrugs. “No.”
- - -
A week later, he’s discharged. He changes into scrub pants and a white t-shirt and signs forms with the name Dick gave him. Cas. It still feels alien to him.
He walks out into the bright autumn sun. After so much time inside, it feels like it’s burning his skin. His arms are nearly translucent. He’s been called a cab, but doesn’t know where he should take it.
A sleek black car pulls up behind the cab. Dick Roman steps out. “Well?” he asks.
Cas doesn’t need to ask what Dick wants. He gets in the car.
- - -
Four months gone, and Cas has a small practice as a faith healer-something he discovered he could do after bringing back a dog that had been killed in a hit-and-run. It scares him a little, the power his accident gave him, but Dick disagrees. He pays the rent on Cas’s apartment, finds him clients, teaches him not to be afraid of what he can do.
And in return, Dick Roman visits on Thursdays.
- - -
At half-past three, Cas waits, naked and kneeling on his carpet, listening for Dick’s key in the lock. The lights are dimmed, and his candles are lit, and they send odd shadows across the floor. Sometimes Cas’s mind wanders and he thinks he sees monsters in the shadows. Great wings and fierce claws. Scales and twisting, crushing tendrils. Waves crashing over the world.
The lock clicks, and the knob turns, and Dick Roman stands in the doorway. Cas ducks his head and twists his fingers together behind his back. Dick hums in approval.
“Good boy,” he says, his voice smoke-smooth and dancing along Cas’s skin. The door is closed and bolted and Dick runs his fingers through Cas’s hair. Tension drains from his body, and the shadows turn back to shadows.
Dick unbuckles his belt and draws down the zipper of his perfectly-pressed tan slacks. Cas shuffles forward, nosing through the gap in Dick’s pants to the bulge in his boxers, breathing in Dick’s warm, sea-salt scent. Dick pets Cas’s hair and indulges him.
Then the fingers tighten, and Cas slips his fingers into the waistband of Dick’s boxers. He works them and Dick’s slacks down over long, muscled thighs, revealing Dick’s firm cock. He wraps his lips over the head, sucking and teasing the slit with his tongue, pleased when Dick tries to thrust into his mouth.
Slowly, he slides his lips down Dick’s cock, taking more of him into his mouth, until the head hits the back of his throat. Dick brushes his thumb along Cas’s jaw, urging him to open wider, to take Dick in all the way. Cas relaxes his throat. Dick’s so deep Cas can feel hair tickling his nose. It’s choking him, and Cas’s hands tighten on Dick’s waist in panic, his throat fluttering around Dick’s cock. Darkness spots his vision and tears slide down his cheeks, but he keeps his gaze locked with Dick’s.
Finally, finally, Dick pulls away. Cas chokes and splutters, the world coming back to him in a painful rush that burns his lungs and stabs his chest. There’s a roaring in his ears, but above it, there’s Dick’s voice. Dick’s praise-I’m so proud of you, Cas-and it’s more than enough.
Once he’s recovered, Dick helps Cas stand and nearly carries him into the bedroom. He presses Cas into silk sheets Cas only uses on Thursdays and licks carefully into his mouth, kissing the soreness away. His hands find Cas’s nipples and rub soothing patterns there, until Cas is moaning and shaking and pleading for Dick to fuck him. He’s mindless with sensation when Dick finally slides a slick finger into his hole, followed by another. His world is narrowed to Dick’s hands, on his nipples, on his cock, in his ass, pressing and wringing pleasure out of him but not quite enough to let him come.
Dick is hot inside him, heavy and insistent and massive, stretching and pulling him apart and all Cas can do is cling to the sheets and take it. Dick fucks hard, shoving him into the mattress with each powerful thrust, and Cas tries to spread his legs wider to ease the pressure, but it only drives Dick further inside him.
Then Dick hits that spot, and electricity shoots up Cas’s body, whiting out his vision and he cries out, gasping for air, coming and coming and coming, and after what must be an eternity he finally comes down. He lets out a pained whimper, as Dick’s still fucking him hard and fast, gripping his hips and shoving his cock into Cas’s stretched, worn hole. He gives a little, futile struggle, which only spurs Dick on, using Cas’s limp, exhausted body until finally Dick tenses and comes inside him.
- - -
Dick leaves an envelope on the bedside table. He’s immaculate, not a single hair out of place, while Cas is naked and filthy and tangled in sweaty sheets.
“Same time next Thursday,” Dick Roman says. He kisses Cas on the forehead and shows himself out.
Author: fete_in_june
Pairings/Characters: Cas/Dick Roman
Ratings/Contents: NC-17, breathplay, dubious consent
Spoilers: Through known spoilers for 7.17
Dick Roman visits on Thursdays.
- - -
He wakes from the accident with bandages on his head, a cast on his wrist, and no memory of who he is. The bracelet on his good arm says his name is John Doe and that he’d been brought in almost a week ago. The nurses say they were surprised he’d woken up. There was a car accident, they say; he’d fallen asleep at the wheel and driven into a reservoir. Luckily, a prominent businessman had witnessed the accident. He visits on Thursdays, the nurses say. You’ll want to thank him.
The monitors beep above his bed. Somewhere down the hall, alarms sound, and a flurry of sprinting footsteps and shouted orders follow. He wonders if whoever they’re rushing to save would make it. He wonders if they have a family; if they have friends; if they are loved. If they have a name.
“Your name is Cas,” the businessman says, dropping his briefcase next to the single armchair.
“Cas.” It sounds strange on his tongue. “Do I have a last name?”
Dick Roman shrugs. “No.”
- - -
A week later, he’s discharged. He changes into scrub pants and a white t-shirt and signs forms with the name Dick gave him. Cas. It still feels alien to him.
He walks out into the bright autumn sun. After so much time inside, it feels like it’s burning his skin. His arms are nearly translucent. He’s been called a cab, but doesn’t know where he should take it.
A sleek black car pulls up behind the cab. Dick Roman steps out. “Well?” he asks.
Cas doesn’t need to ask what Dick wants. He gets in the car.
- - -
Four months gone, and Cas has a small practice as a faith healer-something he discovered he could do after bringing back a dog that had been killed in a hit-and-run. It scares him a little, the power his accident gave him, but Dick disagrees. He pays the rent on Cas’s apartment, finds him clients, teaches him not to be afraid of what he can do.
And in return, Dick Roman visits on Thursdays.
- - -
At half-past three, Cas waits, naked and kneeling on his carpet, listening for Dick’s key in the lock. The lights are dimmed, and his candles are lit, and they send odd shadows across the floor. Sometimes Cas’s mind wanders and he thinks he sees monsters in the shadows. Great wings and fierce claws. Scales and twisting, crushing tendrils. Waves crashing over the world.
The lock clicks, and the knob turns, and Dick Roman stands in the doorway. Cas ducks his head and twists his fingers together behind his back. Dick hums in approval.
“Good boy,” he says, his voice smoke-smooth and dancing along Cas’s skin. The door is closed and bolted and Dick runs his fingers through Cas’s hair. Tension drains from his body, and the shadows turn back to shadows.
Dick unbuckles his belt and draws down the zipper of his perfectly-pressed tan slacks. Cas shuffles forward, nosing through the gap in Dick’s pants to the bulge in his boxers, breathing in Dick’s warm, sea-salt scent. Dick pets Cas’s hair and indulges him.
Then the fingers tighten, and Cas slips his fingers into the waistband of Dick’s boxers. He works them and Dick’s slacks down over long, muscled thighs, revealing Dick’s firm cock. He wraps his lips over the head, sucking and teasing the slit with his tongue, pleased when Dick tries to thrust into his mouth.
Slowly, he slides his lips down Dick’s cock, taking more of him into his mouth, until the head hits the back of his throat. Dick brushes his thumb along Cas’s jaw, urging him to open wider, to take Dick in all the way. Cas relaxes his throat. Dick’s so deep Cas can feel hair tickling his nose. It’s choking him, and Cas’s hands tighten on Dick’s waist in panic, his throat fluttering around Dick’s cock. Darkness spots his vision and tears slide down his cheeks, but he keeps his gaze locked with Dick’s.
Finally, finally, Dick pulls away. Cas chokes and splutters, the world coming back to him in a painful rush that burns his lungs and stabs his chest. There’s a roaring in his ears, but above it, there’s Dick’s voice. Dick’s praise-I’m so proud of you, Cas-and it’s more than enough.
Once he’s recovered, Dick helps Cas stand and nearly carries him into the bedroom. He presses Cas into silk sheets Cas only uses on Thursdays and licks carefully into his mouth, kissing the soreness away. His hands find Cas’s nipples and rub soothing patterns there, until Cas is moaning and shaking and pleading for Dick to fuck him. He’s mindless with sensation when Dick finally slides a slick finger into his hole, followed by another. His world is narrowed to Dick’s hands, on his nipples, on his cock, in his ass, pressing and wringing pleasure out of him but not quite enough to let him come.
Dick is hot inside him, heavy and insistent and massive, stretching and pulling him apart and all Cas can do is cling to the sheets and take it. Dick fucks hard, shoving him into the mattress with each powerful thrust, and Cas tries to spread his legs wider to ease the pressure, but it only drives Dick further inside him.
Then Dick hits that spot, and electricity shoots up Cas’s body, whiting out his vision and he cries out, gasping for air, coming and coming and coming, and after what must be an eternity he finally comes down. He lets out a pained whimper, as Dick’s still fucking him hard and fast, gripping his hips and shoving his cock into Cas’s stretched, worn hole. He gives a little, futile struggle, which only spurs Dick on, using Cas’s limp, exhausted body until finally Dick tenses and comes inside him.
- - -
Dick leaves an envelope on the bedside table. He’s immaculate, not a single hair out of place, while Cas is naked and filthy and tangled in sweaty sheets.
“Same time next Thursday,” Dick Roman says. He kisses Cas on the forehead and shows himself out.