Dark Passion Play
Title: Dark Passion Play
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Rating: R
Spoilers: through to 6.06 (You Can't Handle the Truth)
Warnings: Dark, bottom!Dean, AU
Word Count: 597
Note: Just a little something that popped into my head randomly at work while thinking about an upcoming scene in Unexpected Destinies (not that the scene in question will be anything like this!). The title comes from the Nightwish song of the same title.
Excerpt: Dean had done it once again, given up everything he had, everything he was, only this time he'd done it to an angel.
On some level, Dean knew that it wasn't right, that his level of dependence on and need for Castiel had long since surpassed any kind of natural level, but he couldn't help himself.
Nor could he bring himself to care.
Lisa had broken up with him, Bobby had lied and kept stuff from him and Sam... Sam was hardly recognizable anymore, acting more like one of the creatures they hunted then the boy he'd raised. So what if Dean was fed up with the lot of them? So what if he was content to stay here in this paradise Cas had brought him too? So what if he'd never been the one to walk away before? The way he saw it, he was entitled to pulling shit like this for once. He'd only ever given all that he had in return for jack shit but criticism and abandonment when he was finally broken and been unable to give anymore.
No, that wasn't what sometimes bothered Dean, all of that he could get. It wasn't something he'd predicted he'd do, but everyone had their limits and he'd just finally reached his. No, what sometimes bothered Dean was the way he enjoyed and downright craved the predatory possessiveness of his angel. He'd come to both expect and depend on the way Castiel would look at him like he owned him. On how he'd run possessive hands over every inch of his body and soul, marking both as he saw fit. On how he would take Dean whenever and wherever he wanted to, marking him, claiming him, owning him. And all Dean could do was crave it, keening and mewling freely, not even thinking to hide an inch of himself or his response from his angel.
It was addictive, the way Castiel would look at him, take him, want him. No one had ever done that. No one had ever staked such a fierce claim over his body, let alone his soul. And for that someone to be an angel favored by God? It was mind boggling and he still half expected Cas to just up and leave him one day despite all the angel said about the bond being permanent, of it being unbreakable. He could still recall the seriousness of Castiel's voice when he had informed him about the qualities of the bond. When he'd asked for permission that had been readily given. He was all that Dean had left, he'd have given him anything and everything to stay.
To be wanted, cherished, loved.
Dean had done it once again, given up everything he had, everything he was, only this time he'd done it to an angel. His very soul belonged as surely to Castiel as it ever had to Lilith or Hell, only this time he didn't regret it even if part of him worried sometimes at his own behavior. At his own need for his angel, the sheer dependence on him that even he knew wasn't normal. It was a Grace addiction Castiel had once whispered in his ear while playing his body like a master musician his prized instrument, raising him to unbelievable heights of blinding pleasure.
But Dean didn't care, not really. Not with the hissed "Mine!" in his ear, or the possessive hands on his body, or the teeth in his neck, all part of a claim he felt right on down through his very soul. But never more then when the hands were on his shoulders, on the twin brands marking him for all to see as Castiel's.
Loved. Cherished. Claimed.
Owned.
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Rating: R
Spoilers: through to 6.06 (You Can't Handle the Truth)
Warnings: Dark, bottom!Dean, AU
Word Count: 597
Note: Just a little something that popped into my head randomly at work while thinking about an upcoming scene in Unexpected Destinies (not that the scene in question will be anything like this!). The title comes from the Nightwish song of the same title.
Excerpt: Dean had done it once again, given up everything he had, everything he was, only this time he'd done it to an angel.
On some level, Dean knew that it wasn't right, that his level of dependence on and need for Castiel had long since surpassed any kind of natural level, but he couldn't help himself.
Nor could he bring himself to care.
Lisa had broken up with him, Bobby had lied and kept stuff from him and Sam... Sam was hardly recognizable anymore, acting more like one of the creatures they hunted then the boy he'd raised. So what if Dean was fed up with the lot of them? So what if he was content to stay here in this paradise Cas had brought him too? So what if he'd never been the one to walk away before? The way he saw it, he was entitled to pulling shit like this for once. He'd only ever given all that he had in return for jack shit but criticism and abandonment when he was finally broken and been unable to give anymore.
No, that wasn't what sometimes bothered Dean, all of that he could get. It wasn't something he'd predicted he'd do, but everyone had their limits and he'd just finally reached his. No, what sometimes bothered Dean was the way he enjoyed and downright craved the predatory possessiveness of his angel. He'd come to both expect and depend on the way Castiel would look at him like he owned him. On how he'd run possessive hands over every inch of his body and soul, marking both as he saw fit. On how he would take Dean whenever and wherever he wanted to, marking him, claiming him, owning him. And all Dean could do was crave it, keening and mewling freely, not even thinking to hide an inch of himself or his response from his angel.
It was addictive, the way Castiel would look at him, take him, want him. No one had ever done that. No one had ever staked such a fierce claim over his body, let alone his soul. And for that someone to be an angel favored by God? It was mind boggling and he still half expected Cas to just up and leave him one day despite all the angel said about the bond being permanent, of it being unbreakable. He could still recall the seriousness of Castiel's voice when he had informed him about the qualities of the bond. When he'd asked for permission that had been readily given. He was all that Dean had left, he'd have given him anything and everything to stay.
To be wanted, cherished, loved.
Dean had done it once again, given up everything he had, everything he was, only this time he'd done it to an angel. His very soul belonged as surely to Castiel as it ever had to Lilith or Hell, only this time he didn't regret it even if part of him worried sometimes at his own behavior. At his own need for his angel, the sheer dependence on him that even he knew wasn't normal. It was a Grace addiction Castiel had once whispered in his ear while playing his body like a master musician his prized instrument, raising him to unbelievable heights of blinding pleasure.
But Dean didn't care, not really. Not with the hissed "Mine!" in his ear, or the possessive hands on his body, or the teeth in his neck, all part of a claim he felt right on down through his very soul. But never more then when the hands were on his shoulders, on the twin brands marking him for all to see as Castiel's.
Loved. Cherished. Claimed.
Owned.