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Dean was a little put out at the insinuation that he needed to be incapacitated. But as it was all in good fun he spread his hands, grinned, and turned around.
“Wanna make this easy do ya, big boy?”
“Want to make this interesting,” Sam replied. “We want to give them the full experience after all.”
The blindfold pulled tight over his eyes, making him jerk his head back and he laughed softly.
“And people say you have gentle hands.”
“Only when I want to,” Sam spoke into his ear, breath hot on his neck.
The knot was doubled up and Sam checked it with careful hands. Dean was shirtless and he could feel the long ends of the wide length of material trailing down his back. He shifted his shoulders as it tickled and Sam chuckled, kissing the back of his neck.
“You look so good in black.”
“I look good in everything,” Dean replied.
“Or nothing.”
“Or that.”
Sam massaged across his shoulders and across his upper arms before cruelly twisting his arms up into the centre of his back, folding them one over the other so he almost gripped his elbows. He held them in place with one hand and yanked on the blindfold with the other until Dean tipped his head a tiny way backwards.
Dean grunted, sticking his chest out a little. “Hey, what's with this?”
“Just making you secure, you're fun when you wriggle but more fun when you want to and you can't.”
Within half a minute his wrists were secured behind his back and he couldn't fully straighten his head. Sam kept going though, wrapping all the remaining length of the blindfold until half his forearms were twined around in the soft restraints.
Dean was panting a little, caught off guard, his cock straining in his jeans. Mouth open in gasping arousal.
Sam knew exactly what he did to him, how much he loved all this.
“Perfect, all ready,” Sam said, turning Dean around with his hands.
Dean was disoriented in the dark and tried to twist his head towards Sam's voice only to find he couldn't move it much.
“Can't get into much trouble like this can you?”
“I could try,” Dean huffed. “I could still take you.”
Sam stepped closer and touched his face, thumbs brushing over his cheek bones. He didn't speak but moved in and swept Dean up in a bruising kiss that left them both a little light on air.
“Yeah,” Sam gasped, pulling away, “You got me, I'm totally at your mercy.”
Dean grinned with swollen lips. “Are we doing this or what?”
“Think you're ready?”
“Unless you've got some other surprise up your sleeve yeah I think I'm ready.”
Sam grabbed his cock through his jeans, making him squirm.
“Wow you really are ready. Want me to take care of this?”
“Nah, after. Wanna know what I have to look forward to.”
Sam steered him with sure hands out of the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom. It was quiet, this was no frat party or large gathering. This was a little private set up they’d organised to fulfil one of Cas’s fantasies. They’d done something similar before and it turned out great, so a second go had finally seemed worth revisiting.
Dean smiled, knowing what it would do to Cas to see what was coming.
He heard a gasp, and knew Sam had done well.
“Sam, what… you can’t be thinking of leaving him like that?”
“Until he safewords out yeah, he’ll be fine.”
“Feels kinda fancy, like I’m all dressed up for the party.” Dean joked. “Black satin, sort of decadent isn’t it.”
“Plus look how much he likes it, he’s chubbing up nicely.” Sam said, grabbing for his groin again.
Dean twisted away but was pulled short by Sam’s grip on his arm. “I’ll chub you up nicely if you don’t get this thing going.”
“What kind of insult is that?” Sam asked, laughing. And Cas was laughing too, he could hear it from the side of the room.
“You try thinking while you’re all bound up with your cock begging to be touched, see how smooth you can be,” he grumbled.
“Fair enough,” Sam leaned in to kiss him on the brow, “see you when we’re done. You good Cas?”
“All set, I’ll yell if we need you.”
Dean heard Sam’s footsteps retreat as he padded out of the room and he about turned trying to get his bearings without sight. He remembered the layout of the room, large, pretty empty. A bed, a chair in the corner, some cupboards, and two big windows with a radiator between them.
A radiator that Cas was currently chained to.
“Marco,” he said quietly.
“Polo,” Cas replied.
He turned toward the sound of Cas’s voice. “Ah, there you are. So the bed is now… on my left,” he said as he turned back around.
“Right.”
“Pretty sure it was left?”
“Correct,” Cas teased.
“Fucker.”
“Think they’ll be long?”
“Probably not, think a couple of them were already here, just the particulars to go over,” Dean said. He inched forward carefully, letting his feet feel the way until he found the edge of the bed and sank onto it. He’d get down on his knees when the first guys came on up, he had knee pads on under his jeans so he wouldn’t get sorer than necessary, but he could wait sitting up.
Excitement thrummed low in his gut, flutterings of anticipation that bubbled halfway up his throat when he thought about what was coming. Laid out for whoever had responded to Sam’s ads, ready to be used while Cas watched and stewed in possessive jealousy, unable to do anything.
He licked his lips, and rolled his shoulders. Sam wasn’t bad with the knots and the placement of his arms, he was tied firm but comfortably.
“Nervous?” Cas asked.
Dean smiled. “Not really, think it’s gonna be a good night.”
The first couple of guys went well, nothing too strenuous or rough. He was ready for rough, but he didn’t mind easing into it. They gave him time and he used his lips and tongue to help them along, licking, suckling, pulling of with a pop to make it seem like he was really into it.
He heard Cas yanking on his chains, growling, but he hadn’t said anything yet. Dean sighed as the second guy twitched his release into the condom, still heavy and hot on Dean's tongue as he groaned out his finish.
“Get out,” Cas spat, and Dean smirked.
“I’m here for his mouth not your lip,” the guy replied, patting Dean’s cheek. Dean leaned into the touch, smiling.
“Don’t touch him! I’m serious, leave, you’re done.”
“Alright, thanks for the love man.” and with that he zipped up and left.
“Dean, I’m going to have to… I’m going to fuck their taste right out of you.”
“Didn’t taste anything beside rubber Cas.”
“Not my point!” he tugged at the cuffs again, Dean heard the force of it. “I hate this.”
“You love it.”
“I hate that I love it.”
“Bet you like how I look though.”
Cas growled, possessive, needy, and Dean knew he was right.
The third guy was a little more forceful, tipping Dean’s head back and setting the pace himself. Dean found himself gasping for air, a little light headed, rocking under the hands that held his head.
“Not like that, be careful! Let him breathe, god I will hunt you down if you hurt him.” Cas said, voice all gruff and low.
“Like that huh? Like how I just take him even though you don’t want me to? Getting you all turned on?”
Dean thought that probably the guy talking back would ruin the mood a little, but you couldn’t have everything.
The guy pulled out when he was finished, but held a fistful of Dean’s hair so he couldn’t lean over to catch his breath. He was held aloft, panting, until the guy was satisfied with whatever part of Dean he was watching. There was a thrill deep down in Dean's bones that he didn't even know what any of the men looked like.
“You sure are pretty, boy.”
“He’s not a boy!” Cas yelled.
The man laughed and left. Sam really had given out good instructions, he could feel Cas’s energy sparking through the room. He struggled back up from his knees and perched on the bed again, his erection didn’t feel as painfully tight against his jeans but was he was still delightfully chubbed up. The anticipation was starting to feel intense.
“How did that look then?” he asked Cas, wanting a distraction. His arms were aching a bit, nothing he couldn’t shrug off but it felt like he wouldn’t last the whole evening with them tied back.
“Like someone using what’s mine.”
“Oh you are a jealous tiger aren’t you? You’re really not going to like this.”
Dean’s heart about stopped in his chest. His blood froze. He limbs locked.
“Michael. You’re not welcome here. Leave, now,” Cas said, and his voice could cut glass it was that sharp. Dean couldn’t believe it, without being able to see it seemed surreally untrue.
His ex. His fucking ex, and one that had not treated him well.
“Fuck off Mike, no one invited you.” he found the voice to say.
“This doesn’t really feel like the kind of thing I need an invitation for though does it?”
How did he get past Sam? Sam would never have allowed this.
“Sam? How did you-”
“He did have a thing or two to say, I’m afraid I didn’t stick around to listen. He’s sleeping off a headache in the downstairs cloakroom.”
“How the fuck could you do that! That’s assault, you little shit, I will-” Cas yelled, while Dean’s mind spun.
“What? Report me? Have me arrested? Then you'd have to explain this whole shindig and I get the feeling you might not want to do that. Now sit tight and be quiet Castiel, I have a meeting with Dean.”
“Like hell you do, back the fuck off!” Dean stood, to back away, but hands caught his shoulders and pushed him to his knees. Hard.
“Michael, leave, don’t touch him.”
Dean tried to stand but Michael grabbed a fistful of hair and held him steady. He struggled against it but one rough shake of Michael's hand made him go still.
“I’m not doing this with you. We’re not doing this, whatever game you think you’re playing it’s not gonna happen.”
“You really think you get a say?”
Cas watched Michael grip Dean’s chin, prying his mouth open with the force of his squeezing hand and a scream welled up in his chest. It was then that he remembered that he was wearing handcuffs with a trick escape button for exactly this reason. He twisted, pressed and was about to rip them off and rise to his feet.
“I don’t think you want to do that.”
Michael’s other hand slid neatly into his waistband and pulled out a 9mm pistol, which he promptly placed on Dean’s plump lower lip.
“Stay exactly where you are.”
“Michael, what the hell?” Cas said quietly.
“Feel that Dean?” Dean nodded, and Cas could see him trembling. “That’s the thing that’s going to make you both do exactly what I want.”
Cas stayed rooted to the spot, unsure what to do. “What do you want?”
“Dean, obviously, I thought that was the whole point.”
Dean made a noise of protest but Michael slid the barrel of his gun between Dean’s lips and he stopped abruptly.
“Please, this… Please. A gun? Really?” Cas said, imploring.
Michael fished into a pocket and pulled out a zip tie. “Put this on Castiel, I might be a bit too occupied soon to keep track of you.” He threw the white plastic over and Cas picked it up, but paused before circling it around his wrists.
“You don’t want to do this, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of me.” He said, with as much conviction as he could manage.
Michael stared him down and pushed the gun further into Dean’s mouth. Dean panicked, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and leant away until he was pressed up against the bed and had nowhere else to go and still the gun was between his lips. Cas held back a moan of distress seeing Dean terrorised and quickly secured his hands to the pipes with the zip tie.
“Okay, alright, fine. Just don’t hurt him.”
Michael slid the gun from between Dean’s lips and Dean slumped a little lower, taking big chest heaving breaths, but so quiet and trying to keep so still. Cas ached, seeing him scared, seeing him unsure.
“Dean, so you know, this gun is pointed right at Castiel, so if you don’t sit exactly where you are he’ll get a bullet hole and I can’t guarantee it’ll be somewhere that isn't fatal.”
Dean nodded. “Michael, you could let him go, he doesn’t… you don’t need him to be here.”
“I’m not leaving you Dean.” Cas said as Michael yanked the zip tie as tight as it would go, it dug into his skin and he held back a hiss of pain.
“You heard him Dean, straight from his mouth, he wants to watch.”
“That’s not what I meant!” Cas said, indignant, wondering if that’s what Dean would worry about.
“I assume you have spare condoms? Ahh yes,” Michael picked one out of the pile and held the square package to Dean’s mouth. “Tear this open for me.”
Dean scoffed and leaned away but the barrel of the gun at his sternum made him reconsider. Michael unzipped and carefully rolled it along his cock, practiced hands making quick time even with a gun cradled in one palm. Cas’s world narrowed to the view of the weapon and the hardening cock. Two things he never thought he’d see side by side.
Dean knelt frozen in place, his head still tipped slightly backwards, and swallowed again. “You won’t get away with this Michael, you won’t. Just back off now and call it done, you made your point.”
“I didn’t come here to make a point, I came here to wet my dick in your mouth and make you choke on it.” Michael hissed, pressing the gun under Dean’s jaw trailing it over the barely-there stubble.
Dean held his breath, waiting for it to stop, and Cas jerked against his bonds. Michael just… kept going. Dean had to start breathing again, small jagged inhales as Michael trailed the gun around his jaw, pressed it hard against Dean’s cheekbone, dragged it down Dean’s throat.
He stepped closer and tapped his dick against Dean’s mouth. “Open up for me, like a good boy.”
Cas’s heart stopped, and started again in rapid fire, as Dean nervously licked his lips.
“Please, don’t.” Cas said, “Please just stop.”
“Quiet, Castiel, you’re not the one I want to hear beg.”
“I hate you,” Dean growled.
“However will my poor heart cope. Now,” Michael slapped his cock against Dean’s cheek. “Get to it.”
Dean didn’t comply until Michael pressed the barrel of the gun against his blindfolded eye. He whimpered, and Cas raged, and Dean opened his mouth. Michael slid in slow, groaning, savouring it. He grabbed for the back of Dean’s head to hold him steady and rocked in and out of his mouth.
“I’m here, Dean, I’m here you’re not alone.” Cas said quietly. He couldn’t think what else to do, Dean was in the dark - literally - and Cas was his only connection to anything beside Michael’s touch and the cock filling his mouth.
Dean moaned, trying to pull away and Michael tutted before inching further into Dean’s pliant mouth. Dean choked, trying to shake his head.
“You can do this, you can relax, you know how. Listen to me, we’re going to go home later, we’re going to check on Sam, it’s going to be fine. Dean, relax, I’m here.”
Michael shoved home brutally hard and then pulled out all at once, leaving Dean gasping.
“Do I need to gag you or are you going to shut the fuck up Castiel?”
“Please,” Dean whispered, “Michael, stop.”
“One more word out of you,” Michael pointed the gun directly at Cas’s chest. “And I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Cas slowly closed his mouth, tears threatening to cloud his eyes, and nodded once, terse.
“I know you can do better than this Dean, make it perfect.”
“Mike-”
Whatever Dean was going to say was lost as Michael pressed his cock against Dean’s lips. Dean shook with rage, or maybe fear, and let Michael plunder his mouth.
Cas watched with horror as Michael let Dean set the pace, urging him to suck and lick, to hollow his cheeks and use his tongue. With the gun cradled under his chin Dean did everything that was asked of him, bobbing his head and scooting closer to Michael to use every trick he knew. His hands clenched and unclenched behind his back, and Cas watched them, and the rise and fall of Dean’s chest, instead of the point where Michael violated his mouth.
Cas couldn’t even offer comfort. He wondered if that were better, if Dean could pretend something else was happening without the distress that Cas couldn’t keep out of his voice. But he felt so useless, so helpless, sitting here mere feet away doing nothing.
“Gonna really go to town now, you ready?” Michael asked.
Dean huffed, shook his head, but Michael didn’t care. He gripped Dean’s head with both hands, his right still holding the gun and pressing it with brutal force against Dean’s cheek and ear.
Dean whimpered as Michael shoved all the way in, pounding his face with brutal force, fucking like there was no tomorrow. Dean spluttered, and Cas cried out a wordless noise of pain. His heart broke watching Dean sag and be jerked around under the weight of Michael’s thrusts.
Tears leaked from Cas’s eyes, matching the ones darkening the blindfold wrapped around his lovers face.
“Yeah, like that, this is how you use a nice pliant mouth. Feel that Dean, nothing but a fuck hole for my dick.”
Dean gagged, choking, and Cas yelled. Michael only smirked and pulled out so quickly that Dean fell forward. He jerked in his restraints as they kept his head pulled back and he careened toward the ground, Michael caught him and lowered him slowly to the floor. There was the flash of metal and Cas didn’t even have time to panic at the sight of the knife before Michael slashed through the scarf joining the blindfold to Dean’s arm bindings.
“Better?” Michael asked. “I don't want you breaking your neck.”
Dean only laid panting on the floor, shaking. “Fuck off, are we done?” he said through rattling breaths. Cas quivered, because Michael hadn’t come, and he was looking at Dean with such a proprietary gaze, hungry, eager.
“I think I’ll finish in your ass, how about that?”
“No, no you will not!” Cas yelled.
Dean didn’t attempt to reason with words, he just reacted, scrambling away, blindly kicking out. Michael caught his legs and moved in a fluid motion, pressing the gun against Dean’s exposed stomach.
“Easy, don’t hurt yourself.”
Dean sobbed. “Please don’t do this, Mike, c’mon, please.”
“Up, on your belly.” he yanked Dean up by the arm and threw him face down onto the bed, levelling the gun between his shoulder blades. Dean laid stock still, face turned away from Cas and breathing heavily.
“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you misbehaving Cassie,” he looked Cas dead in the eye and brought his other hand down, curling his fingers into a claw and scratched his nails down Dean’s ribs. Dean screeched, squirming, and Michael laughed. Cas pulled uselessly at his bound arms, barely feeling the way the plastic was slicing into his skin.
“Time to disrobe, hold still so I don’t get any ideas.”
With the gun held in place at the back of his skull Dean bucked but let it happen when Michael hefted his knees onto the bed and snaked a hand underneath him to undo his belt and zipper. He jerked but didn’t fight as Michael ruthlessly tore the jeans off his legs, letting them pool at the foot of the bed. Dean wasn’t wearing underwear and he stiffened at Michael’s appreciative noises.
“Naughty, someone forgot to get properly dressed. You really are a disaster without me.”
Insults, murderous tirades, rebuffs of all that Michael insinuated swirled round Cas’s mind. He bit his tongue. He rattled the radiator again and Michael threw him a victorious look.
He rearranged Dean’s legs how he wanted them, one knee on the bed lifting his ass up and the other pushed out to the side and hanging off the end of the bed. Dean made small high pitched sounds but didn’t say a word, holding himself stiffly where Michael placed him.
“Now I don’t fancy stripping my dick raw on an unlubed hole so are you gonna hold still while I do this?”
Dean nodded. Cas watched him carefully through the gap made by their bodies, watching the underneath of Dean’s jaw — all he could see from the angle — as it clenched and tightened as Michael stuck one lubed finger into his ass.
The least he could do was watch, see how this was affecting Dean, it might be good for later… after… to know how he’d responded.
More lube and more twisting of Michael's fingers followed before Michael groaned low in his throat and Cas’s view of Dean’s face was blocked as he rutted up between Dean’s cheeks.
“No no no, not like this please. Cas,” Dean’s voice broke on the last word and then Michael thrust forward until his cock caught on Dean’s hole.
He went slow first, rocking Dean back and forth too, until he had a good rhythm and Dean acclimatised as much as he could to Michael’s girth. He hadn’t been fully prepped, and definitely wasn't relaxed, but Michael didn’t care. Once he was in, and Dean spread his legs further to accommodate the pressure, he fucked like a piston and Dean cried out over and over.
It sounded liked Cas’s name sometimes, it sounded like Sam at others, it sounded broken.
“You know you can’t hide from me right? You know I can see you’re still hard?” Michael twisted their bodies, let go of the hip he was holding of, and shifted his hand under Dean’s raised pelvis.
“Nah! Gettoff. Nnn, no!”
Michael laughed and went back to pounding away at Dean’s ass, his right hand holding the gun and with two fingers hooked into the satin tying Dean’s arms. He shoved with a surge, rutting home, and changed position to grind Dean’s head into the mattress, the gun pressing up on who knew what part of Dean.
Cas cried openly, sobbing small and quiet, and Dean grunted in pain, the sound stuck in Cas’s eardrums like tar.
Michael stuttered to irregular movements, tipping his head back and bellowing, hips sporadically jerking against Dean’s ass.
“Perfect.” he croaked and pulled out to leave Dean splayed across the bed, one foot braced sideways and the other knee curled under his chest. As Michael stepped back Cas saw the lube oozing out of Dean — a little pink — and he wanted to be sick.
“How could you? How could you hurt him like that?” he demanded.
“Like this?” Michael moved in a flash switching the gun to his left hand and brought his right smacking down on Dean’s ass fifteen times in quick succession. The force of the blows shook the entire bed and Dean screamed, bucking and kicking, and Michael leaned his weight onto Dean’s hip and bound arms to make him go still.
“That’s what you get for your boyfriend speaking out of turn. Thank him, for me, thank him for giving me a reason to do that.”
“Th-thank you Cas.” Dean said shakily.
The gun was back in Michael’s visible hand, and he pressed the barrel against Dean’s clenching hole. Dean jumped, air scratching in and out of his lungs like sandpaper.
“Don’t, don’t, Michael. Please, I’ll do anything. Not that, please.”
Michael pushed and the rim of Dean’s hole gave under the pressure. “Shh, just hold it for me while I make myself presentable.” He pushed further and Cas thought he might pass out at the sight, and couldn’t imagine how it felt for Dean.
Dean’s ass swallowed part of the barrel and he didn’t move an inch, didn’t flinch or jerk or speak.
Michael hummed approvingly and set about tucking himself away, straightening his clothes, and wiping his sticky hands on the bedspread.
“Mike.” Dean pleaded.
“Shh. Be careful, don’t jolt it, the safety is off.”
Cas choked, holding back a scream, holding it in so he didn’t startle Dean. The danger, the risk, was palpable and intimate, all consuming. He could barely drag his eyes away from Dean’s pretzelled body and the weapon poised to fire inside him.
Michael took his time, wandered into the bathroom and came back flicking water from his hands, ran his fingers through his hair in the mirror, checked his shoelaces and smoothed his jacket down.
Dean was trembling with the exertion of not moving a muscle, of not clenching or shifting at all.
“All done,” Michael pulled the gun free with a sickening squelch and leaned over to kiss Dean’s cheek. Dean slumped, sagging against the mattress. “Thanks for the fun, catch you next time.”
Cas thought he would leave then, let it be over, but he yanked Dean’s belt from his jeans and wrapped it around his ankle before tying it off to the bedpost and running the gun up the arch of Dean’s foot. Dean gasped, squirmed, tried to wriggle free, and Michael smiled broadly as he stepped away.
“Goodnight boys.”
He closed the bedroom door behind him and Cas shuddered in relief.
“Dean? Dean I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbled. Yanking harder and harder against the zip tie, clanking the radiator until it shook. His wrists were bleeding and he didn’t care, he had to get to Dean.
“We’ll get you cleaned up okay, we’ll get you cleaned and dressed and we’ll leave. I’m sorry I’m so sorry. You’re alright, you’re safe. I’m here, I’ll look after you.”
He didn’t know how he'd get free of the tight bindings, and he didn’t care, he wouldn’t sit idly by anymore. Dean couldn’t move, and was hurt, sore, and probably traumatised. It had to be on Cas to find a way loose. His promise though, that Dean was safe, was proven wrong within moments.
Footsteps, voices, the bedroom door creaked open. Two men stood outside, peering in.
“Is this the right room?” One asked.
“Hey,” the other said, stepping in, “you ready for us?”
Cas gasped, freezing. More of the men who’d answered Sam’s ad.
“No, no you have to leave! We’re done for the night, go away.”
“Aww, yeah, you’re the one who doesn’t want us going to town on your boyfriend right? ‘Fraid you don’t get a say.”
“No you don’t understand, it’s over, we’re stopping.”
“I bet you wish that were true, buddy,” the second man said, undoing his jeans. “Yell all you want, your man is ours until we’re done. Right?”
“Please, please listen, his ex showed up. He had a gun. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.” Cas sobbed.
Dean was completely silent, but Cas saw his shoulders shaking, his free leg kicking out.
“I thought it was only his mouth on offer?” the first man said.
“Maybe things change?” the second looked questioningly at Cas and Cas pleaded, shaking his head.
The man nearest Dean reached out a hand to gently caress Dean’s butt and Dean moaned, trying to inch away. The man stepped closer and pushed Dean’s untied leg out to the side. Dean sobbed, his shoulders heaving.
“Stop!” Cas yelled, panic and anger coursing through him.
“That’s right, you tell us how much you don’t like it.”
“Dude, I’m not sure, what’s going on?” the second, less confident man looked at Cas, taking in his bloody wrists and Dean’s shaking form.
“I’m not making this up, I’m not acting, you need to stop. Please. Dean, talk to me, tell me what you want, tell them to stop.”
“Cas, wanna go, Michael ... he shouldn't have I couldn't — Cas I can't feel my arms.”
“I know, Dean, I know. Michael's gone, this isn’t him. You can speak up now, please I’m begging you.”
The two men stood in the room, one with his hand frozen on Dean’s backside, the other circling round to try and see Dean’s face. Cas had a blinding shock of terror imagining them deciding to fuck Dean while he couldn’t stop them, of watching it happen all over again.
“Cas. Make them go away. Please.”
“Safeword Dean, safeword out.”
“Cincinnati.” Dean croaked.
The men backed off instantly, shocked.
“Fuck, you were telling the truth? The gun, his ex?” idiot one said.
“Yes!” Cas growled.
“We should get out of here,” said the same idiot.
“We gotta help them first you ass.” said his friend.
“There was a man, downstairs?” Cas replied.
“Not when we got here?”
“I think he got knocked out, maybe locked in a cupboard. Please go get him, please?”
“Sure, what about you? Him?”
The first man moved closer to Dean again, hand outstretched and Dean squeaked a no, thrashing.
“He doesn’t want you near him, please.” Cas said calmly.
“I was going to untie him.”
“I know, but please step back.”
Idiot two had run off to fetch Sam and Cas heard voices and pounding footsteps a few minutes later.
Sam entered the room in a flurry, screeching to a halt and eyes widening in understanding.
“Get out!” he yelled, turning to the men.
“They were trying to help, Sam.”
“I don’t care, leave!”
They hurried away, throwing one last worried look over their shoulders but Cas didn’t watch them go. Sam approached Dean calmly, kicking aside his discarded jeans.
“Gonna free your leg Dean, okay? I’m here, not going to hurt you, alright.”
“Sammy,” Dean said, voice thick and choked.
“Yeah, there you go,” Sam replied, undoing the belt around his ankle. “Want me to take care of your arms next?”
“Yeah.”
Sam eased the knots undone until there was enough slack to rip the bindings off. Dean’s arms fell forward, flopping onto the mattress. Sam pushed the blindfold up off Dean’s head and moved to try and massage some feeling back into his arms.
Dean flinched, curling up.
“They’ll hurt if I don’t help. But… if you don’t want me to?”
Dean shook his head and scrambled away up the bed.
“What happened?” he asked, looking into the middle distance and then turning his lost gaze to Sam. “What happened to vetting everyone who came in?”
“I’m sorry, he took me by surprise, and the gun too. I tried to stand between him and the stairs but he hit me on the head…”
“Then what?” Dean hissed.
“What do you mean?”
“You just… you just took a nap while he came up here and… you just left me for him to do whatever he wanted?”
“Dean, I know you’re angry, but don't blame Sam.” Cas interjected, knowing deep down this was all his own fault. If he hadn’t wanted to do this scene, if he hadn’t ever expressed interest...
“I was out cold, I couldn’t get up even as I started to come round, when that guy woke me, I had no idea how long it had been.”
“You tied me up and left me!”
“Cas was here…” Sam said weakly, standing up and wrapping his arms around himself. “Cas,” Sam turned to him, eyes desperate and gasped when he saw the state of his bloody wrists. “Are you alright? Shit, let me find a knife.”
“And you,” Dean pointed a shaking finger at Cas. “Is this what you wanted? Huh? Did you get off on it? Did you get hard watching him fuck me with a gun pressed between my shoulder blades.”
Cas’s stomach flipped over and tears spilled down his cheeks. “No, no, never.” he promised, like it could mean anything.
Sam had turned a pale shade of washed out grey, his eyes looked sunken. Dean… Dean was red, blotchy, teeth clenched so hard Cas could only imagine it hurt.
“You asshole, you watched, you didn’t even try.”
Cas sobbed, shaking his head. “He had a gun on you.”
“Well maybe a bullet in my shoulder would’ve been better than this!”
Dean stood, moving wobbly toward the bathroom. “I feel sick, he — I promised, never again, and he still won —”
The bathroom door slammed shut behind him, leaving Cas and Sam alone in the quiet of the bedroom.
Sam found a pocket knife and cut Cas loose, checking the abraded skin and rooting through their stuff for a med kit.
“Did he get hurt? I mean, worse than what I could see?” Sam asked, real quiet.
“Michael was rough, there was some slaps, he might be bruised?”
“Okay.”
“It’s not.”
“No.”
“You have to tell me what happened,” Sam pleaded.
“I - I can’t.” Cas hid his face in his hands.
“I need to know how bad it was.”
“Bad.”
“Cas—”
“It’s not my place, if Dean wants me to I will, but if he wants to save you from knowing I have to respect that.”
“Fuck it all!” Sam swiped the antiseptic bottles and the bandages off the dresser and ran his hands through his hair.
Cas could hear the shower going through the bathroom door and his mind spun to washed away evidence and DNA samples and he had to press a hand to his mouth.
They sat in silence together for a long time, pressed shoulder to shoulder.
“We should see if he’s alright,” Sam said eventually.
He got up to knock on the door, tentative, small. “Dean?”
“It’s not locked.” came the reply.
Sam eased the door open and Cas rushed up to join him. Dean was curled up, leaning on his hip on the floor of the shower, still dripping wet and staring into space.
“What do you need?” Sam asked.
“Just you.”
Sam stepped in, crouching down to ease in next to Dean on the floor. Dean leaned on him, his crossed arms a barrier across his chest. Cas turned to leave and Dean made a pained sound.
“Both of you.” he amended.
Cas held back tears and sat on the shower floor in front of Dean, oblivious to the water soaking into his clothes, and held out his hands. Dean eventually placed his own on top of them and Cas squeezed.
“I’m so sorry.”
“I know, I know you wouldn’t really have wanted this to happen.” Dean’s breath hitched. “He’s a dick.”
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Sam said.
“No you won’t,” Dean replied, hanging his head. “Because I need you here, and my needs win out.”
Sam looked at Cas with such pain and Cas nodded reassuringly.
“Together?” Cas said, an open question.
“Together,” Dean replied.
“Together,” Sam repeated.
“Your hands,” Dean said aghast, looking up at Cas’s face.
“They’ll heal.”
“How?”
“I tugged on the zip ties.”
“Bad enough to do this much damage? Cas you dumb son of a bitch!”
“I couldn’t sit there and do nothing!”
“You got hurt when you were supposed to be the one keeping it together!”
“Dean—” Sam intoned, interrupting.
“I couldn’t just sit there,” Cas said again. “He was hurting you.”
“I’ve had his dick in me before, you know that, it wasn’t new.”
“It shouldn’t have happened again.” Sam growled.
“I’ll be fine,” Dean said, only it sounded like a question, like he was unsure.
“You will, you’ll be fine, we’ll help. It might take some time…” Cas replied.
“However long it takes, we’re with you.” Sam said.
“Well, yeah, you better not piss off into the sunset after this.”
“Like we could ever—” Cas began.
Dean held up a hand. “Just… don’t leave me alone?”
Sam leaned over and touched their foreheads together. “Never.”