Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hadn’t been the worst scene, but not the best either. Even though Dean was wearing loose pants, they felt uncomfortable against his ass, sore and getting more painful as the soft fabric scratched against it.

He made his way to the reception, at least enjoying how he smelled after the shower. It was one of the better things about the club, along with the discretion and professionalism. Every week, after the stress from work, Dean needed some time to recuperate. At his job, he needed to be in control, always minding how he was dressed, how he behaved and what he said. He needed to know anything and everything about the deals he was making and couldn’t afford any mistakes. Winchester Motors dealt with high-end clientele, aka rich assholes who wanted to buy or lend fancy cars to look good, and since the time of Dean’s grandfather, their firm was the place to go.

But after every meeting, Dean felt like jumping out of his skin.

He needed to let go.

Some time ago, longer than he’d like to admit, he discovered with the help of one Rhonda Hurley a way to make him feel better: giving up the control. It cleared his mind like nothing else, a complete reset and he even got off.

Today, he was paired with a new Dom, since his last three didn’t work out either. Cain wasn’t bad. Stern and harsh with his punishments, but also giving Dean what he wanted when he followed the rules.

Before him was Crowley, who enjoyed himself a bit too much without doing the work, mostly there to have sex rather than explore the dynamic and while Dean liked that sometimes, the reason he came here was to get dominated, not just get laid.

Before Crowley came Benny, who hadn’t been a good fit either. It came as a surprise, he and Dean really clicked during their first meeting, but after that, their connection sort of sizzled out until they both decided it was time to say goodbye. He had been Dean's first Dom and Dean was grateful for the positive experience that his introduction to the BDSM world was.

Dean was grateful for choosing to go to the club instead of doing this on his own. All the Doms respected his boundaries and stopped when he used a safeword.

He nodded to the receptionist before heading out and getting in his car. Sitting (plus driving) was even worse than walking and Dean squirmed the entire way to his house, shifting in his seat as well as the gears. He’s glad for the shower he took back at the club, so now he just changes into his pjs and brushes his teeth before plopping down to bed.

Fridays were amazing before, but since he started going to Perdition, they’ve become even better, leaving his mind free of worry for the weekend and his body slightly sore and tired. His partners have followed their agreement and not left any marks, so even though it made him feel icky, he was fine to attend family functions. The last was his brother’s birthday party and although Sam gave him a weird look when he wouldn’t stop shifting in his seat, his mom didn’t notice anything was amiss and it went pretty smoothly.

He never even told them he liked men, he couldn’t imagine telling them that he liked when men were a little rough with him and ordered him around in the bedroom. He simply didn’t see a reason why. His mother was already disappointed she hasn’t received a grandchild yet, although she wouldn’t say it in as many words and his brother would probably try to act all enlightened and accepting, but would make a weird face anytime Dean kissed a man.

It was only good there weren’t any men in the picture. No problems there.

In the future, Dean would meet a nice girl and settle down and everybody would be happy and nobody would have to know about Dean’s innermost desires.

He layin bed, looking up at the dark ceiling. Tomorrow would be a free day; he could work on his own car instead of doing paperwork for other cars and meeting with rich assholes who seem to have a sixth sense for knowing that he wasn’t really one of them. They always looked at him with disdain, condescending and acting like they could smell the grease under his fingernails he could never quite get rid of.

His grandfather had started the business and his father continued it before passing. Now it was up to Dean and Sam to pick up where the older Winchester men left off. Their mom wanted nothing to do with the company – which made sense, since she was a nurse and although she knew her way around a car, it wasn’t her calling.

Was it Dean’s, though?

Like always, Dean was treated to a small smile and a nod when he walked down the stairs and into the lobby. The receptionist gave him the usual form to sign and then another smile, Dean returning both with an excited flutter in his stomach. He didn’t change – Cain liked to watch him undress, that he has figured out so far and boy if Dean would give him what he wanted.

The session went as expected, Cain both keeping him on the edge and completely pliant, the perfect combination that had Dean thinking about it after as he walked back to the reception area. He would even have a spring in his step if his knees weren’t threatening to give up from all the kneeling.

But there was one thing bothering him. Cain seemed detached during the scene and nothing Dean did seemed to please him.

He felt a tinge of disappointment when the Dom simply finished himself on his own, without looking at Dean or really touching him. It was fine, though. He didn’t need the Dom’s undivided attention. Cain was alright at planning and Dean enjoyed their scenes just fine. Plus, he already changed Doms so many times, it could be considered a red flag if he told the receptionist he wanted to scene with someone else – again.

Benny had been the only one good at aftercare, maybe the only who really bothered to do it. When he started going there, Dean believed he didn’t need to be cared for in such a manner, and didn't need to be coddled after having sex.

Soon, he learned that a BDSM scene was much more than simple sex, even when it was rough and long.

Psychologically, it was much more taxing but rewarding at the same time. After a scene, Dean was spent and yeah , he wanted someone to hold his hand and tell him he was good. It felt amazing to be held and touched in a different, softer way than during a scene.

He did love the way Cain could pin him down and hold him there, writhing and yearning for more. However, Dean wanted there to be a contrasting, warmer touch when they were done and every time he had to leave with only the memory of Cain’s cold eyes, however exciting it had been at the moment, there was an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

Dressed again, Dean was walking down the corridor, back to the reception area where he would sign off and head up the stairs and to the parking lot. The pattern on the carpet caught Dean’s eye and he watched as parts of it disappeared under his shoes.

He raised his head when he heard shouting from the reception.

“I know my wife has been coming here!” The man yelled, hitting the reception desk with his fists.

The receptionist stepped around the desk, a bold move since he was exposing himself more to the guy and losing the protection the desk between them provided. “Sir, I already told you, I can’t share the private information of our clients. I suggest you leave before I call the police.”

The idea wasn’t exactly appealing to Dean. If something happened, he’d be a witness and the risk of someone finding out about his visits here would increase exponentially.

“I know she’s here”, the man repeated, increasing the volume of his voice. There was no way this would end well. “Tell me where she is or I’ll tear this place up, room by room, until I find her!” He was now gesturing wildly with his hands, pointing to the hallway and swinging his hand right before the receptionist’s face.

“Sir, I’m afraid–”

“No, let me tell you something,” the guy grabbed the receptionist by the front of his shirt and pulled him closer.

Dean stepped closer to help, but in the next moment, the man was shoved face first into the wall, arm twisted behind the back by the receptionist.

It was the first time Dean got a look at the guy – he had been sitting behind the desk during all their previous encounters, so Dean never got to properly see the fabric-stretching thighs and round ass that had been hiding in that rolling chair. He hadn’t paid enough attention to those broad shoulders and muscled arms that were holding the angry man in place and that was certainly a shame

“You broke my hand!” The guy protested, but instead of the yelling from before, it was a meek protest, clearly uttered in fear that more was to come.

“It’s not broken. But I do suggest you walk away before I break your legs.” With that, the man was released and he quickly scurried away, only looking back once and seeming like he was one second from pissing his pants.

“Whoa.” The receptionist’s voice was the most erotic thing Dean ever heard and that was after a few months of going to the club and right after an entire scene. God.

“Sorry you had to see that.” the receptionist – James, his nametag read – turned to Dean, rubbing a hand through his already messed up hair. A really sexy hand, with long fingers that Dean wanted to see from up close.

“No need to apologize,” Dean said in a husky voice. “I quite enjoyed the show.”

Anywhere else, Dean wouldn’t be nearly this bold, wouldn’t risk offending the guy by either the flirtation or the downplaying of the incident that could’ve gone much worse than it did. Anywhere else, Dean would avert his eyes and do his best not to look like he’s at all interested or checking the guy out. Here, he was free to do as he pleased, to look his fill and it wasn’t like James didn’t know everything about Dean from the forms Dean filled out when he started going there.

It made him feel strangely exposed despite being clothed at the moment. James’ eyes didn’t help, boring into him with a surreal intensity.

“You handled that quite well,” Dean continued, somehow maintaining a level of confidence he felt nowhere near. “I gotta ask, do you ever, uh,” why couldn’t he say it? , “do you ever scene?”

The guy blinked, caught off-guard.

“Just… You seem like you got it in you. To be a Dom.” Dean said it in a non-chalant voice, or at least what he hoped would pass as one, yet he scanned James with his eyes, searching for any indication that it wasn’t just an impression Dean got but that the receptionist wasn’t just always here to work. It couldn’t be that much of a stretch, right? That this was more than work for him, sometimes.

But everyone needed money and Dean was probably just projecting. It was wishful thinking, nothing more.

Plus he already had a Dom, only… Well, as it turned out, Dean was a greedy, greedy man and the more he looked at the soft, plush lips combined with a sharp jaw and nose, those blue eyes and broad shoulders, the more he was wishing for a certain answer to his implied question.

“I… Admit I’m no stranger to all this.” In turn, James’ eyes returned Dean’s stare and he let them drop to Dean’s mouth before they returned to bore into Dean’s again. James tilted his head. “If I’m not mistaken, you just scened; you already have a Dom, no?”

He was right. Dean should have let it go. “Yeah. But. What if I want to… assess all my options?” Dean said with a wink. He didn’t know where all that confidence came from, but it was suddenly there, urging him to go after what he wanted.

And it was becoming increasingly clear that what he wanted was for James to be his Dom. It was another switch, but even though Dean was unsure about the change, what looking at Cas taking care of the intruder did to him was undeniable. And it was something he wanted to feel again.

“So, is this something you’d be interested in? Me becoming your Dom?”

“Yes.”

“Hm.” James went to stand behind the reception desk again and began to rearrange some papers. “Is there something wrong with your current Dom?”

Dean shrugged. “No. I just… Look, if it’s not an option, we can just forget about it, alright? I only wanted to ask. In case it’s something you, you know, wanted, too.”

“Okay.”

Dean blinked.

This couldn’t be that easy. How had this actually worked?

“Okay?”

James smiled. “Yeah.”

“So. What now?”

“I’m assuming this time is good for you, yes?”

Dean nodded.

“Then I’ll let Cain know about the switch and I’ll prepare something for us to do next week.”

Us. It sounded too good to be true. “Alright.”

“In case you change your mind, you can just let me know when you come or call in beforehand, okay? If that happens, I could message Cain that the appointment stands or if you change your mind at the last minute, you’ll just take a break and start again the week after. Does that sound good?”

It sounded perfect. “Awesome. I’ll just… come back next week, then?”

“I’ll wait for you. Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean nodded, probably a few times too many. He felt a blush crawling up and despite the fact that James would be seeing all of him next Friday, he still had the instinct to hide, to run. “Okay then. Bye, uh, James.”

“Wait.”

Dean turned around to James toggling with his nametag, an amused smile on his face. His smile broadened when he looked at Dean after placing the plastic tag on the reception desk.

“Sorry. Forgot about this.” He tapped on the name-tag. “It was very practical, until now. No one asks you questions about it when your name is James,” he chuckled. “But my actual name is Castiel.” He extended a hand towards Dean. “Nice to meet you.”

In turn, Dean grabbed the offered hand and shook it, finally having a proper introduction to the man he’s been passing by for weeks. And now, thanks to his either brilliant or utterly stupid decision, he was going to get to know him a lot better.

“Nice meeting you, Castiel.”

Chapter Text

“Earth to Dean, are you listening?” Sam asked, probably not for the first time. He waved a hand in front of Dean’s face, smirking when Dean jumped, blinking up at his brother who was watching him with an amused look on his face and shaking his head in disbelief at Dean’s daydreaming.

Dean barely caught the papers tossed at him and frowned at his brother again.

“Dude, you do know I haven’t had my second coffee yet, right?”

“Sure. And let me guess, you were thinking about how to increase our effectiveness in the workplace again, huh?” Sam mocked.

Dean smiled. “Always. What else is there to think about?”

Given time, Dean could surely come up with at least a hundred different things that were more interesting than work, from the pigeon outside to his somewhat (extremely) inappropriate fantasy of his new Dom holding him up against the wall doing just about every single thing two people most definitely shouldn’t be doing in the workplace.

The good thing was he’d just have to wait until Friday and then all his dreams would come true.

“What is this?”

“Oh, the client decided he didn’t want to go through with the deal, so we need him to send us the uh, return money.”

“Uh-huh. And remind me why I need to be the one to do it?” This was one of the worst parts of the job and one of the reasons Dean hated being the CEO of a company with just enough money for it to be important and not enough to hire someone to do this for him.

Sam smiled, sweet as the five year old he once was and almost as annoying. “Well, since I covered for you in that meeting yesterday morning after you came about two hours late, I figured you owe me a favor.”

Dean smiled back, just as insincere. “Great. I’m on it.”

“And… you’re alright, right?”

This time, the smile was real, even if Sam could never know why. “Yeah, man. I’m fine. And, because I’m nice, I’m gonna take care of this.”

“Thanks.”

“However.”

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“I will require a coffee.” He raised the empty mug and shook it.

“Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Dean was nervous. Almost as nervous as he had been the first time he’d gone to the club, only now the feeling was suppressed by experience and the knowledge that it would be alright.

Even if he wasn’t compatible with Castiel, he would scene with someone else and there’d be no hard feelings.

From that incident in the hallway, however, Dean knew that something else definitely would be. If he hadn’t been so spent at the time, he would’ve left that day with a hard-on in his pants, so if today’s Castiel was anything like the man Dean witnessed during the confrontation, they would have the exact opposite of a problem.

There was a different receptionist today, which made sense, since Castiel would be busy and it made the reality set in even further. With both the excitement and stress, Dean wasn’t sure if he’d be able to relax, to let go of the control and stop his mind from being overactive.

He took a deep breath when he reached the room, twisting the handle and wiping his sweaty palm on his pants as he stepped inside. He was alone, so he decided he would go about things as usual and started undressing, prying each button of his shirt open with fingers that were nearly shaking until he heard footsteps behind him.

“Stop.“ Castiel hadn’t even raised his voice and Dean obeyed, halting the motion and waiting for further instruction.

They came quickly and Dean did as he was told, buckling his belt and doing all the buttons of his shirt. His previous doms all wanted him undressed before the scene even began, so it was becoming a reflex, coming to the club, checking in (with Castiel at the reception), going to the room and undressing.

Shit, he hadn’t even thought about it.

And here he was, disappointing a new dom already.

Initially, Dean’s behaviour hadn’t been… the best . He talked back too much, couldn’t hold still and wasn’t very good at putting his thoughts into words. He was improving, or at least trying to, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make mistakes.

It was never the punishment that was the problem, it was this. Those little moments of disapproval, of his Dom frowning and deciding that Dean wasn’t good or wasn’t good enough .

Plus he’s never had it happen this early on.

“We are going to play a game,“ Castiel said after a while of watching Dean squirm under his gaze. Despite the fact he still had his clothes on, Dean felt weirdly naked. ”Alright, what now?“

Castiel only tilted his head, clearly not impressed.

Dean decided to dig himself further into the hole by speaking out of turn again.

“What are the rules?“

Finally Castiel approached him, walking slowly as he scanned Dean’s body up and down. A few inches shorter than Dean, he didn’t exactly tower over him, though the sensation felt similar.

“I am going to ask you questions. About yourself. If the answers are... satisfactory, you’ll get to take off a piece of clothing. For every ‘I don’t know’, there’ll be a punishment.“

He shivered when a single finger was dragged up over his clothed back.

That was definitely a good sign.

“What kind of punishment?“ Dean asked.

Castiel replied with a hummed noise. “You’ll find out.“ The finger continued its journey over Dean’s back and shit, Dean really wanted Castiel’s hands on him. “Do you agree?“

Dean swallowed. “Yes.“

There were lips at the back of his neck, just the hint of a kiss, but Dean threw his head back nevertheless, chasing the sensation.

“What’s your favorite color?“

The answer was out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop himself. „I don’t know.“ He winced, closing his eyes but not before he saw the smirk on Castiel’s face. „Blue.“

Castiel raised one of his eyebrows. For the record, it shouldn’t have been nearly as hot as it was, making Dean swallow and his cock twitch in his boxers.

The questions continued, Castiel inquiring about him in a way Dean wasn’t used to. It wasn’t small talk, wasn’t intrusive questions about his family or relationships or boring ones about his work. Unfortunately, Dean had a lot of clothes on and before he was down to his boxers, two more ‘I don’t know’s left his mouth.

There were rewards, too – every time more of Dean’s skin was revealed, Castiel touched it, ran his fingers over it until Dean had goosebumps all over his arms and back and his nipples were hard (and they were not alone). Those, Castiel gave special attention to, circling them with his thumbs and flicking them, all soft and careful and just enough to arouse Dean more without giving him something more tangible and real.

“Good,” Castiel said, hand in Dean’s hair, humming in approval when Dean leaned into the touch. “You’re doing so good, Dean.”

“Don’t know ‘bout that,” Dean responded, illustrating his point.

“I won’t count that one, but only because I didn’t ask you a question. Yet.”

He pulled out a rope out of nowhere – as far as Dean knew, there weren’t any like this in the rooms, as well equipped as they were. Which meant Castiel brought it with him, brought it just for Dean. That alone made more blood run into Dean’s dick, made it fill out and harden to be even more obvious as it tented his boxers.

“Hm-m. I want you to think about this one, alright?”

Dean nodded.

“What do you expect from this relationship?”

Huh.

“I…”

I didn’t think about it.

“Uh.”

I just wanted you.

“I’ve been… unsure about my previous Doms. Not that they were bad or anything,” he added when he saw Castiel’s frown, “and it’s not like it was a bad fit, it just… wasn’t enough anymore. For me. I wanted, uh, something more. And I saw that something in you. And I hope that you’ll see something in me, too.”

Castiel didn’t move for a while. Then, he tilted his head and ran his eyes over Dean’s mostly naked body. When he spoke, there was something new in his voice that Dean couldn’t quite pinpoint. “I think that I might.” He smiled, his eyes turning hungry. “Take off your boxers.”

“Yes, sir.” At last, Dean’s dick was free and it bounced, heavy, as he stepped out of the last piece of clothing.

“Lie on the bed, on your back. Arms above your head.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean scrambled to obey.

He held his breath, staring unashamedly at Castiel. He bit his lip when the Dom followed him to the bed and kneeled next to Dean’s head, reaching for his hands and tying them firmly to the headboard. He felt his dick jump at the sight of the flexed muscles on Castiel’s forearms, working on tying the rope in an elaborate pattern that Dean couldn’t hope to understand and much less replicate.

“Is this comfortable?” Castiel asked when he was done. It hadn’t taken long, it was obvious Castiel had practice and each knot was done quickly and beautifully, loose enough that it didn’t hurt and tight enough Dean could feel the pressure and the power behind the structure.

Even Dean’s dick showed interest at watching Castiel work, that intense focus was both flattering and intimidating and somehow, Dean was excited and aroused by both.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Castiel nodded, examining his work. “You look beautiful,” he stated.

Dean felt his chest flush.

“Is it not too tight?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Dean almost whimpered the moment Castiel’s hands were on him again; he raised his arms to  get more of Castiel’s touch and tried to tilt his head to get Castiel to touch his face, watching for his reaction to see if that was allowed. He moved to Dean’s belly, scratching lightly and still avoiding directly touching his crotch.

“Spread your legs.“

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to do as he was told, feet sliding over the sheet and away from each other, making space for Castiel who shuffled close, leaning over Dean as he touched his thigh.

The first touch to his dick was heaven

Dean heard the lube opening and soon felt the first cold touch when Castiel’s fingers connected with his skin and one of them circled Dean’s opening and slowly pressed inside.

“Beautiful,” Castiel stated again, twisting the finger after a while and adding another. He took it slow, took Dean apart carefully. It was like being undressed again, layers falling away and revealing what was beneath, leaving Dean bare and exposed, leaving him naked and moaning, begging for more and enjoying every encouragement he got.

Once the two fingers moved freely in and out of Dean, Castiel hummed in satisfaction and reached for something on the bedside table. His other hand remained on Dean, so Dean didn’t care what it was, kept his focus on the singular point of touch until he felt and heard the hum of a vibrator against his thigh.

He bit his lip, waiting excitedly for more.

“Is this alright?” Castiel asked, smiling because he’d already guessed the answer from Dean’s moan.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, biting his lip again.

“I’m going to need a better answer than that, Dean,” Castiel spoke again. Meanwhile, he went back to stroking Dean’s dick, adding more strength this time.

“Yes, sir. I want this.” Dean congratulated himself for the coherent answer – it was difficult to form any thoughts with Castiel’s hand around his dick, moving up and down and twisting his wrist, adding pressure on the uptake and reaching to touch Dean’s balls on the downstroke.

“Good boy.” The Dom leaned down to place a soft kiss on the inside of Dean’s thigh, right where the vibrator was a second ago.

“Ah, fuck.” Dean’s eyes shot open – when had he closed them? – as he felt the vibratoron his chest, touching his right nipple. “Yes.”

It circled his areola before heading for the center, making Dean squirm and pull on the rope tying his hands. Twisting again when Cas switched to the other nipple, timing it with the movements of his hand on Dean’s dick, Dean felt he was in heaven.

None of this was new and yet with Castiel, it felt innovative, special and Dean wanted more.

“You want this,” Castiel punctuated the words with a more powerful push of the vibrator against Dean’s chest, “inside of you?”

Dean didn’t hesitate. “Yes, sir. Please.”

“Well then.” Castiel placed another kiss on Dean’s thigh. “I’m happy to oblige.”

When the vibrator finally entered him, Dean bit his lip hard enough he was worried it would draw blood. His hands tightened on the rope, muscles in his arms tensing along with all the others on his body. It started slow, speeding up as Castiel searched for the right speed, the right rhythm at which Dean would unravel and be left as nothing more than a mess of moans and poorly held back screams, shouts of please and more and Castiel’s name on repeat almost like a prayer.

The vibrations ran through Dean’s body, lighting him up from the inside. He felt every bit tight in his core, more when the vibrator went deeper and stayed, pressed against all the right places. Castiel fucked him with it while it was set to a high setting, holding it in turn against his prostate and his rim.

Stars erupted behind his eyes while Dean fell apart, one thrust at a time. Each one bringing him closer to completion, fueling the fire inside of him until it felt like Dean’s skin was set aflame.

“Can I come, sir?“ he begged. “ Please. ”

The Dom regarded him with a smug expression. “I don’t know,“ he said, already withdrawing his hands.

“Oh fuck.“

Dean bucked his hips, chasing the pleasure, but Castiel pushed him down, only touching his hips and not the places Dean wanted to be touched. He moaned in protest but Castiel didn’t budge.

“This okay?” he asked, giving Dean space to talk.

Dean nodded.

He didn’t have much experience with edging, especially if Castiel was gonna do it for every ‘mistake’ Dean made during their little Q&A. But Castiel sounded soft and sure and Dean was going to do whatever his Dom told him to. He was going to take whatever his Dom wanted him to.

When Castiel saw Dean calming down, he touched him again, started with stroking Dean’s thighs and heading patiently for his genitals.

The second time felt quicker – it probably was, Dean’s body responding to each touch more profoundly than before, already expecting what was coming.

The only issue was that Dean himself wasn’t, not for another while.

Expecting what was about to happen didn’t prepare Dean for the moment Castiel stopped touching him again, withdrawing and watching Dean buck his hips uselessly, yearning for more.

Calming down wasn’t easier the second time either. “Beautiful. Just one more time, Dean.”

Dean took heavy breaths and tried to concentrate on calming down, stepping away from the edge and back into safety. It didn’t matter that what awaited him wouldn’t be a steep fall but ascent to unbelievably pleasurable heights, all that mattered was that he was good for his Dom.

“You’re doing so good, Dean,” Castiel praised him after the third time, when Dean felt like he was going insane with need, when he was sweaty and desperate, begging Castiel for release.

This is it , Dean thought, the last time. It went quick, knowing the sweet prize waiting for him at the end of the road. “Please, sir. This time… I can come this time?” Dean plastered the words together, hoping he was right. Hoping he didn’t miscount.

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel huddled closer, looming over Dean and looking straight into his eyes, into his soul. “Come for me.”

As with everything else, Dean did.

He knew it would feel good. Knew it would be like all the previous times he didn’t get too put together, one big bang instead of a few minor explosions… Still, he was blasted away by the impact, left breathless and shaking, the orgasm consuming his body and mind and making him shout out Castiel’s name.

He nearly blacked-out, vision going black. Muscles spasming before turning into jelly, leaving Dean unable to move. Vulnerable and unbelievably soft, all for Castiel, whose hands were still on Dean’s skin, slowly withdrawing as the Dom watched Dean with smug satisfaction.

“T-thank you,” Dean stammered when he regained the ability to speak.

Castiel straddled him, devouring the image of Dean spent and flushed. His own cock was still hard, standing up between his legs red and shiny with a myriad of fluids.

Dean wanted to touch it, wanted to reach for it and stroke it until Castiel moaned his name, wanted to taste it and feel the weight of it in his mouth, on his tongue. He must’ve made a sound (most likely a very undignified whine, not that he cared), because suddenly there were fingers on his lips and his Dom shushed him before deciding for a distraction and sliding one of those fingers into Dean’s mouth.

It was a poor replacement but Dean sucked on it, his eyes following Castiel’s motions as he stroked himself, that large hand sliding through the wetness, stopping minutely at the head of his cock before making its way back down again, spreading that bead of precome that had escaped.

Licking the finger in his mouth, Dean watched, fascinated, as the Dom practically sitting on top of him bit down on his lower lip, continuing to devour Dean with his eyes. For his good work, Dean was rewarded by another finger in his mouth which he immediately licked and bobbed his head on, twisting his head slightly as if it was a cock instead, breaching him.

If he was in any way capable of it, Dean would’ve been hard again from this, the sensations on his tongue and the sight of his Dom kneeling above him, stripping his cock while Dean lied there; bound, helpless and spent.

“Please,” he begged again. Castiel had withdrawn his fingers and tugged Dean’s head back by the hair on top of it, revealing Dean’s throat.

His eyes barely caught the moment Castiel came, but he could hear it and he could most definitely feel it.

On top of him, Castiel slowed and then stopped, dropping down lower on Dean’s chest and making it harder to breathe. His come splashed onto Dean’s face and throat, droplets marking him from his chest to his hair – he’d need a shower before making his way home. That part was usual, only this was the first time he would truly hate to wash this all away.

Chapter Text

The following week felt like an eternity, torturous time that Dean wanted to spend doing practically anything else but work overtime and sit in that stupid chair behind that stupid desk.

Every time he remembered their scene, the air suddenly felt too hot and his mere presence at the office felt inappropriate. He chastised himself for each thought about Castiel or perdition but they kept coming, not leaving him alone and letting him concentrate on anything even partially safe for work.

How could he fill out the paperwork when the memory of large strong hands holding him down kept resurfacing, popping up over and over again, making Dean stop short during conversations, on his way to and from work and making him seem like an absolute disaster of a human being.

He needed to get a hold of himself. He did this before; it wasn’t like he lost his virginity and was now left with only one experience, bouncing around in his mind. He wouldn’t call himself experienced, but he wasn’t new to this and he prided himself in his ability to compartmentalise. What happened in Perdition stayed in Perdition and should – would – never see the light of day. Dean couldn’t go around thinking about it in his work and around other people.

People who weren’t…

Like that , like him, like what he did every Friday and what he couldn’t bring with him anywhere else.

“Here’s your tea, Mister Winchester.” Lisa smiled at him, placing a steaming cup on his desk.

He blinked up at the woman, sitting up straight to seem more professional and like he hadn’t just been imagining getting thrown over his desk by his new Dom.

Of course, this was the exact moment that his brother chose to walk through the door.

“Dean, you really shouldn’t force people from HR to bring you coffee,” Sam joked.

Lisa smiled. “Oh, it’s no trouble.” She held up her own cup. “I was already making some for myself.”

“In any case, thank you.” Dean smiled back. “You’re the best.”

In response, she fluttered her eyelashes and gave another smile to both the brothers before saying goodbye and striding out of the room.

“Dude, she’s totally into you.”

Shit. “Nah. She’s just being polite, that’s all.” She wasn’t. Dean saw the way she looked at him, the glances she sent his way unmistakable and wanting. Her disinterest wasn’t the problem here and neither was anything else about her. Beautiful, nice, funny. If Dean was into women, he definitely would’ve had a dilemma of whether not to start a workplace romance.

As it was, he didn’t have to think twice.

“Besides, she’s our employee. I wouldn’t wanna start anything with her, even if there wasn’t the issue of an imbalance of power.”

Sam stared at him like Dean grew a second head.

“You do realize she’s gorgeous, right?”

“Yeah? And why have you noticed that, I thought you were getting serious with that lady of yours.”

“I have eyes.” Sam scoffed. “You should ask her out.”

Of course. Maybe they could go to a bar and check out some guys. She could find someone who’s not gay and he could… probably judge everyone and compare them to his amazing Dom who had the ability to understand Dean and take him apart like no one else. How could some rando in a bar measure up to the man who only had to raise one eyebrow and Dean fell to his knees.

“And by the way, since when do you drink tea?”

“I’m getting a cold. I have a sore throat.” Please don’t ask me any questions , Dean prayed, remembering last night and the reason Dean’s throat was sore. The hand in his hair. The scrape of the carpet under his skin.

“Right. Well, I better go. Wouldn’t want to catch anything,” Sam said. “Oh, and I sent you the files I need you to look at. ASAP if you can, but I need it by tomorrow morning at the latest, please.”

Dean sighed. “Sure.”

Sam was younger, but he was all grown up and Dean was starting to slowly let him help, be in charge of some things in the company. Especially the ones Dean didn’t like to do, but Sam didn’t need to know that.

Technically, the business depended on clients, but Dean was more than happy to let Sam handle almost anything that had to do with dealing with them while Dean took care of the internal workings of the company, mostly the stuff concerning cars. Dealing with employees was easy – giving them a good wage, vacation and insurance went a long way and things were always running smoothly on that side.

The people who were interested in purchasing the cars were a whole other problem.

But whatever Dean was doing, he was always in charge, always responsible, always had to be composed and in control.

That was why he needed Perdition, needed some time to let go. Needed some time for himself. To be himself.

How would Sam react if he found out his big brother was never going to ask Lisa out or anyone else for that matter. Was never going to go on a real date – hasn’t since college?

Sam wasn’t like John, he wouldn’t think it was a sickness or weakness or that Dean was a pervert. Not that John knew anything. Even as a child, Dean knew enough to hide it, knew better than to stare too much or do anything to invite suspicion. With John gone, Dean was pretty sure both his mother and Sam would be much more accepting.

Still, the risk was too great.

Dean was on a good path to be successful in about every other aspect in life, there was no need to upset the status quo. Besides, there was more than just his family to think about: Dean was responsible for an entire company and him being out could make them lose clientele, maybe even enough to cause trouble. 

Trouble Dean would rather avoid.

He had it figured out. Plus, starting yesterday, he had added Tuesdays to his schedule with Cas, so all his needs would be more than satisfied. Of course, that would once come to an end. It was an amazing arrangement but it couldn’t last forever. No matter how much Dean wanted it to.

Back on his knees,  looking up at his Dom while he was before Castiel's feet, it felt like Dean belonged there. This time, he was given a pillow to kneel on, a small but firm thing cushioning his joints from the hard floor under the carpet and keeping his skin safe from carpet-burn.

Dean knew he'd miss the pain of the carpet scrape; he always relished that sort of thing, a reminder that this place was real and wasn't just some wild fantasy and that he was brave enough to come back every time.

Those little private reminders made up a good part of why he lasted so long on only this, only sex with near strangers that had a whole separate life when they left this room.

So did Dean.

The added time on Monday's was merely greed – nevertheless, if Castiel were to decide he didn't have time for that anymore, it would leave Dean alone and feeling unwanted. Not that it mattered that much to him of course. It would just be… better, if Castiel stayed.

"I flirted back. Told her she was the best, that she had a nice blouse," Dean said, his breath catching in his throat as a strong hand grabbed him by his hair to tilt his head back. He found himself staring right into the Dom's face, blue eyes filled with desire and parted lips.

Dean couldn't help but lick his own.

"Why did you tell her that?"

"I dunno."

"Hmm. What did the blouse look like?"

"Uh, blue. With frills. It looked soft and I... I kinda wanted to touch the fabric."

The Dom stepped closer, pushing Dean's face against his clothed crotch, the outline of his hard cock clear and enticing. "Did you want to touch it, on her. Feel the shape of her through the fabric?"

While Dean could appreciate the aesthetic value of a woman's curves, the fact he had never felt the desire to run his hands over them was a big clue when he had first questioned his sexuality.

"No."

"Did you wonder what it would feel like on you, if you were the one wearing it?" Castiel rubbed his shoulder, still clothed in one of Dean's older t-shirts, a little frayed and a touch too small but hugging the shape of his torso all the more beautifully if Dean said so himself. The only other thing he had on were his boxers, an older pair as well, mostly black with the Batman logo.

He may have been in a hurry when he dressed.

The whole thing felt somewhat domestic, the clothes were something he might wear at his house where no one else saw him.

Here, it was only Castiel and that was fine by Dean.

He imagined himself dressed differently, in soft satin with frills, expensive and much too pretty for a man like him but just right. Something that was acceptable for a woman to wear into the office but that would earn him strange looks if he were to step outside his house in.

Something he'd show to Castiel and beg him to touch Dean, praise him and tell him how gorgeous he looks in it.

"Want to wear it."

"You'd like to wear something like that to work."

"No. Just here. Just for you."

His Dom was still standing close enough that Dean felt how his dick jumped at those words, twitching against Dean's cheek in spite of the fabric it was covered in.

"I'm sure you'd look beautiful. Distracting enough I might forget about you flirting with others. But not yet."

Dean whimpered, glad he didn't have to be ashamed of the sound.

"No. You were misbehaving and we can't have that, can we?"

Dean's breathing was laboured, chest rising and falling, getting more rapid with expectation. "No, sir."

"You deserve to be punished, don't you agree? Flirting with that woman, making her think she had a chance, meanwhile you were wishing you were here, isn't that right?"

"Yes, sir."

Castiel hummed again. "I am going to have to give you bonus points for that, but you're still getting punished."

Dean swallowed. "Yes, sir." He blinked when in the next moment, he found himself back to staring into his Dom's face, this time with Castiel kneeling in front of him, putting them on the same level.

He sighed in pleasure when his cock was freed, Castiel pulling down the boxers by the waist-band. "Stand up," he ordered and, of course, Dean did.

He stepped out of the boxers, lifting his arms when Castiel rose with him and took off Dean’s t-shirt, touching his chest and stomach with reverence the moment it was freed. Dean shivered. He stood naked before Castiel, head raised and feeling no shame. He knew he was appreciated, that everything he showed Castiel was observed and remembered with no judgement, every detail put away for later with precision but no scrutiny.

Dean was led to a stand, which he climbed on without complaint. He held back a yelp when he felt the leather buckles being tightened, strapping him down. Two over his calves. Two over his thighs. And finally, a pair over his wrists.

At his Dom’s request, he tested the restraints to see if he could move.

Nothing.

His blood raced through his veins and he tried to control his breathing, keep it level and even. Keep his mind from running away from him.

He heard Castiel moving around, opening a drawer and coming back closer to Dean. In his position, he barely saw anything, so Castiel had to come in front of him to show him what he was holding.

A leather flogger.

Black.

Long.

About to turn Dean’s ass red.

He felt his dick getting even harder at the thought.

“Will this be alright?”

In reality, Dean knew it to be a genuine question. Knew Castiel would stop, wouldn’t do anything Dean didn’t actually want.

The idea that he had no choice in the matter just felt too arousing in the moment. Dean nodded, letting himself imagine this to be real. That he was bound, against his will, about to be punished for something that would normally be brushed aside.

He tried to push those thoughts away.

He needed a clear head, to stay in the present and stay grounded.

The first hit was almost gentle, testing the waters before a harder one came that made Dean yelp.

It burned too much and the sound and feel of leather reminded Dean of a belt. He tried focusing on Castiel's hand on his lower back, large and firm but resting there comfortably. It took two additional hits until Dean decided he didn't like it.

It was too… Not enough. Too far away. Too impersonal.

“P-poughkepsie,” he stuttered. Although he couldn’t see him, he felt Cas go still, stopping immediately.

“Are you okay?” The Dom stepped in front of Dean again. “Do you want me to untie you?”

“No, no. That’s fine. I just… I didn’t like this. I don’t know.”

Castiel rubbed circles into Dean’s shoulder. "That’s completely alright. Thank you for letting me know.”

“I just… I don’t like the flogger. I don’t know.”

Castiel nodded. “Do you want me to use my hand or do you want me to stop entirely?"

"Hand."

Castiel grabbed and squeezed one of Dean's buttcheeks, rubbing small circles into the reddened skin. "Can I start?" he asked, looking at Dean for consent.

"Yeah."

The slap stung as well, but it was a different kind of pain, one that took the shape of Castiel's palm and no doubt left a similar mark.

Dean arched his back to what the bench allowed, closed his eyes again and relaxed.

It was a punishment, yes, but the whole point here was that both of them enjoyed themselves. With each more hit, Dean was more glad for his decision. The idea that there'd be a mark the shape of his Dom's hand on him was incredibly arousing. He'd get to look at it in the mirror. Feel it when he sat down.

"Is this better?" Castiel asked, stopping momentarily. Dean didn't even know how many times he'd been hit, all of it blending together in a mosaic of pain and pleasure.

"M-hm."

Castiel rubbed his ass again. "I'm going to need a better answer."

"Yes, sir. I like it."

"Good. I wouldn't mind it if you didn't, alright? I'm happy you told me before, okay?"

Dean nodded. "Okay, sir."

After that, Castiel started again.

Each time his hand met Dean's ass, it stung more, leather biting into the skin and bringing with it more pleasure; bringing Dean closer to something he hadn’t thought possible. Ten years ago, maybe, but as a full adult, he never… never got this close. Not from just this.

Just Castiel’s hand. Hitting him. Just the pain. Just the slight movements of his pelvis against the bench he was strapped to, his dick under him, pressed between his stomach and the leather.

“‘M close.”

If Castiel was surprised by this, he didn’t show it. Or, say it. Dean couldn’t see him.

Something about that was incredibly hot, too.

Another hit landed on his ass, making him shift forward again and put more pressure on his cock.

“Then come, Dean.” Another hit. “You’ve been bad, but I’ll allow you this. Come for me, Dean.”

One last hit, a sharp pinch of pain and Dean was done for.

He wasn’t loud; he only let out a long breath as he fell apart, letting the pain shoot through his body and making his orgasm all the more delicious. Dean was pretty sure he drooled on the bench under him.

His Dom spoke to him, talked him through it. Patted his back and ran his hands, softly now, over Dean’s ass, red and sensitive and it was just perfect enough without being too much. Dean didn’t have a clue what he was saying.

“Such a good boy,” Castiel purred, the first words that registered.

Dean tried to nod, not sure how much of the movement actually showed. “Yeah?”

Castiel came to where Dean could see him, smiling down at the tied up submissive. “So perfect for me. I’m going to let you choose what we do next, alright?”

Dean nodded again, certain he was not in the mindspace to choose absolutely anything.

“Either, I can untie you and let you suck me off on the bed or I can leave you here and fuck you while you’re still strapped down. What do you say?”

For a moment, Dean could only lie there, possibly still moaning from his orgasm. Even so, the answer was clear. “Fuck me, please. Sir.”

The Dom surged down to kiss him, rough and demanding, licking into Dean’s mouth, tasting every bit of it like it held the answer to all the questions in the universe. Robbed of all energy, Dean opened his mouth, let his Dom in before whimpering in protest when Castiel finally removed his tongue. 

“Hm. Very well.” Castiel smiled down at him.

Dean drifted while he was prepared, fingers pushing in and out, sliding easily thanks to Dean’s ministrations from the evening before and the few minutes he spent playing with himself this afternoon before he admonished himself and decided to be an adult and wait until the evening. Two fingers became three, twisting and gliding with the excessive lube, tugging at Dean’s rim to test the give.

Satisfied, Castiel asked for Dean’s permission again before unzipping himself and coating himself with the lube as well, judging by the sounds.

“Ye-e-e-es,” Dean moaned when he felt the head of Cas’ dick pushing in. It was glorious, thick and slick and amazing, filling Dean just right, spreading him open inch by inch.

If he could’ve moved, he would’ve grabbed onto Cas, shifted himself so it’d go quicker or pull Cas in.

As it was, he could only lie there and take it, each second dragging on, torturous but oh so good. It went on for forever; Dean almost couldn’t believe it when he felt Castiel’s hips flush with his ass, every bit of him that could fit snuggly inside Dean. Just where it should be.

The Dom above him – in him – stilled. Caught himself, swept his hands over Dean’s body and held him, thumbs pressing into Dean’s back just above his hipbones. “You are so perfect,” Castiel murmured. “Look so good. I’m glad I let you choose. Are you ready?”

“Ready, sir,” Dean replied. “Want your cock. So bad.”

“Trust me. I want this too.”

Then, he started moving. Slowly, at first. Letting Dean adjust. “Taking it so good,” he praised. “Always so ready for me. Always begging for it, desperate.” He slapped Dean’s ass again, gently, though with how red it already was, it was enough to send another stab of pain through Dean’s skin.

“ Fu-u-u-uck, ” Dean screamed.

“You like this, huh? Like being strapped down, fucked just like you deserve?”

Despite having finished only minutes ago, Dean was getting close again, every drag of Castiel’s cock in that place over his prostate pushing him slowly closer to the edge. Every word, spoken somehow with both laxity and care, focused solely on Dean.

Dean tried to get his mouth to co-operate. “Y-yes. Deserve this. Want this so bad, please,” he begged.

“Such a good boy, Dean.” The thrusts were quick now, fast and rough. Everything sweaty and hot. “So tight. So fucking perfect.” He snuck one hand under Dean, stroking the sub, moving as fast as his hips were; the other hand went to Dean’s hair, grabbing it and tilting his head back, making his back arch, ass pushing further onto the dick impaling him.

Every movement was just what Dean needed, in and out, rough and powerful. Filling him up just right.

“You gonna come for me, Dean? Again? I know you can do it, know how bad you want it. How bad you need it.” He tightened his grip on Dean’s dick. “Do it.”

Do it.

Like it was anything Dean could control. Like he wasn’t caught, spread on Castiel’s dick and trapped in his hand and in the leather strips pinning him to the stand.

It was possible he blacked out for a minute, eyes shutting and all of the world fading out, replaced by pleasure and the force of his orgasm. He was shaking. Possibly crying. He felt another wave of pleasure wash over him when Cas stilled behind him, saying Dean’s name and his release flooding into Dean’s ass.

When Dean regained the rest of his senses, he felt Castiel draped over him, forehead resting on Dean’s back and his hot breath warming a spot there. Some time after that, Dean felt his legs being untied. His ass became empty, cold and mourning the loss. Then, his wrists were freed and he was helped off the stand.

He stumbled, legs shaky and with something running down them, and he was sure he'd have fallen if Castiel wasn't standing right beside him, arm under Dean's own, guiding him safely to the bed.

They lay down, Cas on his back while Dean was on his belly, head resting on Cas' chest and one arm thrown over it.

Dean wouldn't mind falling asleep like that.

They both smelled like sex, sweaty in that special way and Dean, once again, didn't want to wash it away. He breathed Cas in and swallowed down the idea to lick him. He already knew what the man tasted like. He wanted a refresher.

"You did so good, Dean. It's important that you voice your likes and dislikes, otherwise I can't plan a scene or know if you liked everything we did. I thought you might like the whip, but I guess I was wrong."

"I... It was used before, on me. It was different, but I did like it then, I think."

"Was it the same kind?" Cas asked. His tone was curious and there wasn't a hint of anger. It made Dean relax and lean further into him.

"No, it wasn't... It was, like, normal."

Dean's head was jostled when Castiel chuckled. "Sorry. I do suppose normal is the correct word." He stroked Dean's flank, fingers sliding over sweaty, wet skin. "We can try something else, later. See what you like."

"I liked this."

Cas drew Dean closer to kiss the top of his head, Dean exhaling softly at the sweet moment. "I liked this too," he whispered.

Chapter Text

Dean tugged on the restraints, testing the give (there was none) and how it would feel on his skin when he did. It felt good, smooth and not like it would leave his wrists burned after their scene. He was lying on his back on the bed, blindfolded and naked, patiently waiting for his Dom to come closer and start.

Dean hadn’t always been patient, the punishments of some of his previous Doms taught him it was better not to talk back or try to move things along. Not that it had been bad, it had been punishment for a reason, but recently Dean realized that it should be enjoyable as well and not something to be actually feared.

But he shouldn’t think about other Dom’s right now.

He tried to concentrate.

The air felt cold around him, but not enough to give him goosebumps. His legs were restrained as well, ankles tied to the end of the bed so that he couldn’t move. The blindfold was silky and like the cuffs, it didn’t feel scratchy or too tight.

He could hear footsteps approaching and shivered, knowing what view his Dom would be getting.

Fingers lightly traced the inner side of his thigh, avoiding his crotch and heading to his hip bone, over his stomach and up to trace around his left nipple. Dean arched his back to get more of the touch.

Cas didn’t budge though, giving Dean only what he wanted and not a bit more, no matter how much Dean begged for it. Cas was in control and he wanted Dean to know it.

“C’mon.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s nipple, hard enough that a sharp pain momentarily shot through Dean’s chest. “Patience.”

Dean huffed in response.

And got his thigh slapped for it.

“Fuck.”

He heard Castiel laugh.

After that, he let Cas play with him; only let out small, incomprehensible sounds that didn’t resemble a protest. It was nice, too. Taking it slow. Every bit of Dean’s skin touched, petted, scraped over with blunt nails or kissed with soft lips.

“Hm-m-m.” The Dom finally hummed, satisfied. He was testing how relaxed Dean was, massaging his muscles. ”Good.”

The blindfold came off and Dean’s dick immediately jumped at the sight in front of him. Cas, above him, was a sight to behold – not only was he wearing the most gorgeous cowboy hat Dean had ever seen, he was wearing the whole thing. Blue bandana matching his eyes just above a bolo tie on a white Western shirt with a v-shaped motif, complete with beautiful flowers embroidered onto it. Leather fringe jacket with short straps, light brown and just out of reach of Dean’s tied hands.

The best part, however, were the pants. Calling it pants wasn’t at all accurate, though. No, pants were supposed to cover the crotch, whereas the matching leather chaps Castiel had on didn’t do a thing to cover his erect cock, standing proud and pointing itself right at Dean.

“Not today.”

“W-what?” Dean asked, staring at the beautiful picture in front of him.

“I’m not going to fuck you today.” The Dom hummed. “At least not like you think.”

Dean blinked. “Why?”

“I have something better in mind. If you really don’t like it, then we can do something else, but I think you might enjoy this.”

Whatever he had planned, Dean was pretty sure he would. Simply looking at Cas like this did things to him. He bit his lip when Castiel leaned down and held his breath, expecting the Dom to kiss him.

Instead, he saw the man’s jaw go slack when he reached behind himself and then Dean heard a small sound, a slick pop! that made his eyes go wide. Almost unmistakably, it was the sound of a plug coming loose. Surely, that didn’t mean what Dean thought it meant.

The plug was held in Dean’s line of sight – blue and shiny – before it was discarded, thrown somewhere onto the bed.

Dean opened and closed his mouth. Then again.

“I know the saying goes ‘Save a horse, ride a cowboy.’ but I thought this might also work. After all, it’s the cowboys who do all the riding.”

Dean was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment.

“Are you… Are you going to ride me , sir?”

“Do you want me to?”

Want didn’t begin to describe it. Right now, Dean couldn’t imagine anything else. “M-hm.”

“Words, Dean,” Castiel replied with a smile.

“Yes, sir. Want you, want this, uh…”

The Dom took mercy on him, shushing him with a finger over his lips. “Alright then.”

His cock was guided over Cas’ opening, stroked a few times with a wet hand and then Castiel began to lower himself onto it, keeping eye contact all the while until he was sat, Dean’s cock snugly inside where the plug was moments ago.

Dean grabbed onto what he could, hands caught in the cuffs, fingers trying to hold onto the sheets uselessly. He tried to buck his hips, but he had no leverage with his legs kept straight with the rope.

“None of that,” Castiel admonished him, pushing him down with a hand in the middle of Dean’s chest.

The submissive nodded, writhing but trying to keep his hips still, so Castiel could do all the work.Rocking up and down, Castiel set a slow pace to start with, asking again if Dean liked what they were doing.

The sub, for his part, was staring up at his Dom with a slacked jaw, getting lost in that tight heat and hissing each time his nipples were pinched in time with the movements. With his legs tied, Dean didn’t have the leverage to take control, couldn’t do anything but lie there and take it, let himself be ridden.

Every shift of the Dom’s hips was deliberate. Precise.

“I love it, sir. I…” He swallowed. “I l-lo–” He couldn’t finish the words – his tongue felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and the muscles wouldn’t co-operate.

“Last time, when I had your dick in my mouth… I thought about having it… Elsewhere. ‘Cause it’s mine, too. You’re mine.”

Dean’s eyes were fixed on him. “Yeah, I’m yours. Just yours. Everything.” It wasn’t until after those words left Dean’s lips that he realized how true they were.

“Good. You should know, I don’t usually bottom. But you were being so good, such a good boy,” Castiel cooed. “I wanted to give you a gift.”

The truth was, Dean didn’t do this, either. Really, he only topped once, during his first time. College. He was young – as was his partner. That was their saving grace, probably the only reason why they came – Dean had been a fumbling mess, nervous and scared and clumsy, trying his best but probably failing.

It hadn’t been overall terrible, just… unsatisfactory. Dean had been in control and he didn’t have a clue what to do. And he knew, even back then, that it wasn’t merely inexperience. He didn’t want to be in control, didn’t want it, didn’t want to have the power over someone else.

There was no question of who was in control now. Dean could barely move, could barely do anything more than moan, whisper soft ugh s and umph s and a-a-a-ah s as he whimpered.

“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Cas moved up and down, hands resting on Dean’s chest as he bounced on Dean’s dick. It was incredibly hot, in every sense of the word. Cas was tight around him, warm and squeezing him beautifully. He was wet and tight and riding Dean like a dildo, like a toy that couldn't move and lied there, immobile, hard and there only for Castiel's pleasure, for the Dom to take him however he wanted. Do whatever he wanted to him while Dean couldn't do a thing, couldn't do as much as reach for Castiel and hold on to him while the man fucked him.

“You’re welcome,” the Dom grunted. He rose on his knees before slamming back down, ass slapping against Dean’s thighs, hands gripping onto Dean’s chest. “You should be thankful. I don’t do this a lot. Wanted to treat you. You’ve been so good to me. For me. So good.” His voice was… broken, rough and deeper than usual, even for a scene.

Dean wanted this to last forever.

He wanted to keep this man, have him on top, inside or around him, touching him as he pleased, fucking him however he liked. He wanted to tell Castiel, tell him everything, all of his inner thoughts and wishes, deepest desires and all that he wanted Cas to do to him.

Out loud, Dean only whimpered, not able to formulate words. He looked at Castiel, watched him. In his eyes, Dean saw the exact moment the Dom felt Dean come, dick twitching and emptying inside, 

“That’s it,” Castiel praised. “All mine.”

“Yours,” Dean managed to reply.

“Gonna mark you. Make sure everyone knows. Knows you’re mine.”

Something hit Dean in the face, somewhat hard but not too heavy. Before he could protest, the object was removed and placed on his head. It was the hat; now it sat partially on Dean’s head and on his arms bracketing it. It smelled strongly of leather and Dean inhaled the scent. It was mixed with their sweat and utterly hypnotizing – in his current state, spent and tired, Dean floated, looking up at Castiel with half-lidded eyes.

The Dom smiled, strained. “I guess I am riding the cowboy now.” He still had Dean’s dick inside of him, getting soft. In their position, Dean’s come must’ve been leaking out of him; mixed with the lube, Dean couldn’t really tell. One of Castiel’s hands was still on Dean’s chest, the other now wrapped around his cock, picking up speed before it slowed and then Castiel was coming too, sperm shooting onto Dean’s body, marking him just like Castiel promised.

Dean still floated while Castiel rose up and set him free, undoing the ropes on his ankles and unlocking the cuffs on his wrists. Cleaned them both up and brought them drinks as usual.

Usual.

Dean adored that that was a word he could use.

He didn’t realise he was smiling until Castiel traced the smile with his finger when he climbed back into the bed with him, replying with a smile on his own. It was something Dean was getting used to as well.

Getting told how good he was. Rewarded. Knowing he earned that smile, that it was meant just for him. If only it could last forever.

Chapter Text

Dean woke up slowly, blinking his eyes open as he took in his surroundings. He felt warm, covered by a blanket and something very hot plastered to his back. The warmth wasn’t uncomfortable, it wasn’t the kind of clammy heat a person woke up to during a fever or a hot summer, the sticky sweatiness that permeated the skin and was impossible to get rid of. No, this was different.

It was safety, comfort and pleasure, all mixed in a combination that made Dean want to go right back to sleep. The air around him smelled nice, all clean and sweet and somehow familiar. Dean breathed it in, smiling as it filled his lungs.

The arm thrown around him tightened and Dean froze.

The notion that he wasn’t at his house had already begun to creep in but that fact that he wasn’t alone was an entirely different matter. Not that Dean ever slept over at other people’s houses, those days were long past him and the last time he slept in a bed with someone else was so long ago Dean didn’t dare think about it too often.

Right now, it took second place to the worry about who it was that was lying next to Dean, plastered to his back with an arm thrown over Dean’s body, holding him tight.

Dean decided to give both his past self and the person behind him – man, judging by the hairs on the forearm and the scrape of a growing beard against the back of Dean’s neck   – some credit. He didn’t panic, only turned around slowly and was immediately glad for it.

There, lightly snoring and looking outright angelic, lay Cas.

His face was smushed on the pillow, he was drooling and Dean had never seen anyone look more beautiful. The memories of last night came flooding in and Dean blushed in embarrassment. At how he could’ve forgotten. At how drained and desperate he’d been last night, completely spent and hopeless, lying on his back and only managing to breathe, in and out, watching how his Dom cleaned them both up, relaxing further at the touch of a wet wash-cloth, at Cas’ hands stroking over his back, rubbing his muscles, his fingers combing through Dean’s hair.

The embarrassment faded when he remembered the Dom’s words, whispered to him with Castiel’s mouth so close to Dean’s ear he could feel the whiff of air on his skin. Words like beautiful and good and gorgeous , all said with such certainty it felt like they were carved into Dean’s brain.

The arm around him felt less and less like it was trapping him in and more like it was protecting him.

Dean must’ve fallen asleep shortly after their scene.

Technically, Cas should’ve woken him up, told him to get dressed and thrown him out. Perdition had pretty long hours – not long enough for people to sleep over, however. Cas must’ve cleaned up and then gone over the club before returning to Dean and deciding to lay down next to him.

Perhaps it was the early morning, Dean’s brain still half asleep, that made him surge forward and press his lips to Castiel’s. It felt right; it felt like the only thing that made sense to do.

It tasted terrible, Dean’s morning breath most likely worse than Cas’ but the combination was outright unpleasant.

Dean didn’t care.

He moaned when Cas woke up, immediately smiling against Dean’s lips and kissing him back, pulling him closer.

“Insatiable, aren’t you?” Cas asked, pulling back slightly.

Dean blushed again. “Sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Cas rolled on top of him, careful of Dean’s body as he settled over him, looking down at him with hooded eyes. His voice was rough with the morning and perfect and Dean’s dick was getting harder by the second.

When he woke up, they weren’t close enough for Dean to feel Cas’ crotch, but now he noted with pleasure that it was poking him, hard and demanding attention. Regrettably, it was still trapped inside Cas’ boxer-briefs, straining to get past but obstructed by the cloth.

“Can I take them off?” Dean asked, reaching for waist-band.

"Do it."

Castiel took them both in hand when they were naked, sensitive skin brushing. The Dom's long fingers wrapped around them both and he took care of them, movements slow and languid and perfect for the morning.

When they came, together, Dean had to wonder whether it counted as a scene or not at all.

“How many coffees have you had today already?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows as he watched Dean sip on the delicious liquid from the office coffee machine.

“Not enough,” he answered. He only had one meeting planned for the rest of the day, but he was exhausted and without the caffeine, there was no telling what he’d do if the other party turned out to be a bunch of assholes. His brother could disapprove all he wanted; Dean wasn’t about to go in there without drinking all of his… fourth? Coffee.

Shit, maybe he should slow down.

“Look, I don’t know what you do to get through those meetings, but don’t judge me, alright?”

Sam sighed and shot another murderous look to Dean’s mug. “Fine. Just don’t be late.”

After he put the empty mug in the dishwasher, he stopped by the bathroom to check if he looked alright – representative enough – before he looked at his watch to see the meeting he was supposed to be at started over two minutes ago. “Shit.”

He didn’t run into the room, trying to keep some of his dignity, but he did walk faster until he reached the door and quickly let himself inside the room. His brother, as expected, was already there and gave him an exasperated look before turning back to the other man in the room.

His name was… Michael, uh, something… Dean guessed. Today clearly wasn’t his best day.

That sentence proved too true the moment the third man turned to Dean and Dean realized that the situation was much worse than he previously thought.

Blue eyes widened in recognition and Dean cursed internally. This couldn’t be happening. He pinched himself, but unfortunately, the pain was clear and did nothing to wake him up from what was shaping up to be his worst nightmare.

Cas swallowed, tugging on his tie.

He looked glorious in a suit and if Dean didn’t stop looking at him right there and then, his Cas equals hot sex reflex would take over and that would result in a most uncomfortable situation.

“Dean, this is Castiel Novak, Micheal Novak’s brother. He’s representing Angel Enterprises. Mister Novak, this is my brother, Dean Winchester.”

Dean had to struggle to suppress an eyeroll from the nepotism in the room. To be fair, from what Cas said, this wasn’t anything regular but rather something his brother had him do because he himself couldn’t be bothered. Still, this meant that two of the three brothers had their own businesses, so the chances were their parents were loaded. That begged the question of why Castiel didn’t do something on his own instead of working for his brothers.

Then again, here was Dean, working for the company his father established and trying himself not to fall into the shadow of his own brother.

Family business.

The smile he put on was strained, he could feel it. So was Castiel’s. They shook hands, holding on for too long, both of their palms suddenly clamped with sweat.

After that, the meeting was like most others and when Dean avoided looking directly at Cas, he could almost pretend this was any other client sitting across from him and someone who’s been tying him up and, ordering him around and fucking him for the last two months. Good lord.

“Sorry?”

“I said I forgot the papers in my office.” Sam frowned, flipping frantically through the ones he had on the table. “I need to go grab them from my office, sorry. I’ll be right back.” He smiled apologetically at Cas, who nodded.

“Of course.”

“This might take a while,” whispered Dean the moment the door closed behind Sam.

Sam had a lot of things going for him and a lot of things he excelled at, but orderliness definitely wasn’t one of his strong suits. Hell, if Dean had been at the top of his game today, he would’ve checked, asked if Sam could’ve forgotten anything or needed any help. In most other things concerning preparation, Sam was a pro – he had the patience for research and could do a wonderful job. He was however, a mess and so was his workspace. If Dean had to share his office space with him, he wouldn’t last a day and he couldn’t imagine trying to find anything in those mountains of papers and various stationary.

Sam swore it was an organised mess, but Dean knew from experience it would take him some time to find what he needed.

“I see you got another job, huh?”

“It’s only temporary,” Castiel responded, eyes flicking down as he messed with his cufflinks.

"Good." Dean rose up from his chair and without much input from him, his legs carried him to Cas. His only saving grace was the fact that Cas was similarly thrown off by their meeting here. Dean could hear his breathing getting heavy and he swallowed when Cas stood up as well, placing himself behind Dean and wasting no time before his hands headed for Dean's crotch. "Yeah. That's good," Dean repeated, voice too loud for the words he was saying.

“I’ll stop if you make another sound,” the Dom growled in Dean’s ear and Dean bit down on his lip, doing his best to obey. It was, like some other thing, incredibly hard, and getting impossibly harder the more Cas moved his hand inside his pants.

Dean nodded, silent.

It was ridiculous, doing this at his place of work, but whenever he was around Castiel, all rational thoughts went out the window.

“Desperate for it, aren’t you? Want my hands on you, yes?”

Dean bit his lip, nodding silently.

“You can answer,” Castiel said, his amusement evident in his voice.

“Want you,” Dean whispered. He was stupid with it. And Castiel was right – desperate.

“Yes, that’s it. Quiet. Tell me, Dean, tell me how much you want this.”

“Don’t–” stop. Dean was crazy for Cas, for his touch, for the large and surprisingly soft hand, the long, deft fingers wrapped around his shaft. The word came out helpless and– And in the next moment, Cas’ hand was gone and so was the warmth of him that previously covered Dean’s back. “What?”

Dean, perplexed at the sudden loss, turned around – just in time to watch his brother's fist connecting with Cas’ cheek and Cas flying back a good few feet before his back hit the wall.

“Get the hell off my brother,” Sam hissed, hands raised and prepared to strike again.

Cas was still standing right next to the wall and Dean could see the color starting to fill in where there would soon be a bruise. His whole face was flushed, though probably not just from getting punched and his erection was still visible through his pants.

Dean really hoped his brother missed that somehow, although that was unlikely. If they were alone, he would find the image of Castiel hard in his pants incredibly arousing, but this was so far from anything he had imagined and Dean debated just jumping out of the window before he stepped between Sam and Castiel.

“Sam!” he whisper-yelled, not wanting to draw more attention and draw even more people to the office. That was thankfully unlikely, given all the people here were technically their employees and would not come into the meeting unless called for.

Shit, shit, shit. 

“Stop it.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief before looking back at the man behind Dean.

Dean followed his line of sight and gulped when he saw blood dripping down from Castiel’s nose. He turned back to his brother.

“Dammit, Sam. Give us a minute, would you?” He asked, keeping his voice down. Then, grabbing Cas by the arm, he walked out of the room and into the nearest bathroom, swearing internally the entire way.

Cas’ face was almost clean by the time Dean spoke up, pressing a cold wet towel to the man’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Dean.”

Dean couldn’t look at him, afraid of what he would see – both in his expression and the damage his brother’s fist did to him.

“Dean. ”

Finally, Dean raised his eyes. Cas’ voice just did something to him, tapped into some of his internal desire to listen and so Dean did, even though the command went unspoken. If it was anyone else, he would add a punch of his own and that went even for his previous doms, but Cas earned his trust in a way probably no one else had in his entire life.

Dean had no idea how he would explain it to Sam, any of it.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Dean, thank you,” Cas responded, smiling lightly despite the situation.

“Shit, man. I’m really sorry, I hadn’t… I didn’t hear him and–”

“It’s okay.”

Dean shook his head. “No, I… I am sorry. And I get it, if you don’t wanna… You know.” It would probably be for the best, if they didn’t see each other again. It would be terrible, yes and a shame, but how exactly would Cas feel confident and at ease during a scene while either still sporting a bruise or just remembering the memory.

Their entire relationship, even if mitigated by the club, was about trust.

“Don’t want what?” Cas looked up, confused.

“Uh.” Dean blushed. Despite what they were doing before, it felt strange to have to talk about it at his place of work. “Be my Dom anymore. Like I said, I’m sorry.”

Cas shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I was the one who… I was out of line. I just saw you and… I’m the one who’s supposed to be in control.”

“C’mon, man. I guess we both messed up. I just wanna… I wanted to ask if this, y’know, changes stuff. And to say that I’d get it, if it did.”

A hand gripping his shoulder made Dean’s thoughts stop in their tracks. “ Dean. ” As always, Castiel’s voice allowed no room for defiance. “I mean it. It wasn’t your fault. And… we won’t get anywhere by passing blame. What happened wasn’t ideal,” Cas winced, because it was definitely more than that, “but it won’t change anything between us. That is, unless you want–”

“No!” Dean almost yelled, too loud for the small bathroom.

He was the goddamn CEO and here he stood, stressing over a bruise and trying desperately to not let this end what they had.

“Please.”

At the word, something changed in Castiel’s eyes, eyelids dropping lower and his gaze falling down to Dean’s lips. He brought one hand to cup Dean’s face and brushed his thumb over Dean’s cheek.

Dean couldn’t help but lean into it; he didn’t want to. Being touched by Castiel was, as always, incredibly pleasant.

“Please what?” Castiel whispered.

“Please be my Dom.”

The hand on his face slid further back, fingers gripping onto the short hair, tilting Dean’s head back. “Of course,” Cas said, voice still quiet and low, which in itself was doing incredible things to Dean.

He opened for Castiel when the Dom leaned in and kissed him, slow and steady, taking Dean apart with his skilled mouth and laser-sharp focus like Dean was the only thing in the world that truly mattered. Still, it was controlled, restrained even.

“I think I should go now,” Castiel said after pulling away. “But I will see you on Thursday, alright?” He cupped Dean’s cheek before sliding his fingers down to grab his jaw.

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you.”

“Good. Bye, Dean.” He slid the hand down Dean’s arm to reach for his hand and bring it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back and keeping eye contact the whole time.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

It was strangely romantic and totally unfit for the situation and perfect for it at the same time. Dean watched as Cas gave him one last smile and left, leaving Dean behind, stunned and very, very confused.

Cas was beautiful, even with the bruise beginning to bloom on his face and the blood drying on his clothes. His presence was calming at the same time as it was keeping a fire burning inside of Dean, fanning the flames every time Dean laid eyes on him. The mere thought of him was distracting, blue eyes and powerful muscles and a voice Dean will forever hear in his dreams.

There was a knock on the door. “Dean? You alright in there?”

Sam.

Shit.

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose, breathing in deeply as he mentally prepared to talk to his brother. He had figured… He had figured he didn’t need to have this conversation, not anytime soon, maybe not ever. He figured he would just… stall, make up excuses and reasons he needed to focus on his career and not waste his time dating until Sam forgot about it and stopped asking questions. He figured that even in the worst case scenario, where he’d have to come clean to Sam, he’d tell him that he was into guys and not one bit more.

He still may not have to, but there is no possibility of avoiding that conversation now.

“Fine,” Dean said, not feeling it in the least. He opened the door.

Sam stood in the hallway, leaning on the wall, eyebrows drawn together in concern while he scanned Dean, maybe looking for any signs that Cas hurt him. With that reminder, Dean chanced a look at Sam’s hand and couldn’t help jerking back when he saw the swelling starting to be visible around the knuckles.

This was not about to be a fun conversation.

“So,” Dean started when the conference room door closed behind them.

“Are you gonna tell me what that was about?” Sam asked, probably trying to keep the judgement from his tone but failing entirely. He stood on the other side of the table and was measuring Dean with almost accusing eyes.

“Oh, I am, but trust me, I really don’t want to.”

That got no response and Dean felt anger rise inside of him. They did act inappropriately in the workplace and it was their fault they got caught but Sam had no right to stand there and look at him like this.

“Look, I obviously don’t know what happened. I mean, I walk in and I see him, uh, touching you . I thought he was… assaulting you. But he wasn’t, was he?”

“No.”  Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe Sam had every right to judge him. “I’m as much to blame as him, dude. I should know better than anyone else how to behave and I should’ve known better than to do this in the workplace.”

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to say, man. And what exactly were you doing? I mean, you just met the guy.”

Dean winced. “Not exactly.”

Sam leaned above the table, placing his hands on the desk. “Dean, please. What’s going on?”

“Cas is… my boyfriend.” Dean cringed at the word. It didn’t sound wrong and saying it aloud gave him a strange thrill that ran through his body. But it wasn’t the truth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean shrugged. “I dunno, man. I guess I was scared,” he answered.

“Of what? Of how I’d react? I’m not dad, Dean,” Sam almost screamed.

And Dean got it, he did. He’d be hurt too if Sam was hiding something like this from him. “Right now, I’m not so sure.”

In any other situation, Dean would laugh at how Sam stood there, opening his mouth and closing it again when no words came out. It wasn’t exactly an insult; though troubled, John Winchester had been a decent man when it came to it. Mostly when it came to Sam.

Dean was pretty sure Sam would say the same thing about him and perhaps that was the most unfair thing of it all.

But whoever John’s favorite was was irrelevant now. Their mother loved them the same and everything else was up to them. Unfortunately.

“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just the thing with Cas is, uh, it’s new. And I didn’t know he’d be here today. And I’d tell you if we were getting serious. But we aren’t and… I ain’t sure if we’re gonna be, ya know?”

“I’m sorry if I contributed to that. And I want you to know that I am more than fine with anyone you date, okay?”

“Thanks.” Dean looked away, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes. “And this ain’t your fault. You… You did what you thought was right, I guess. It’s going to be fine, trust me.”

It wasn’t and Sam most likely knew it too. He didn’t say anything, however, only nodded and waited for Dean to speak again. Great. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he said again. “About being… About liking guys. I didn’t know how to do it, I guess.”

Sam huffed a laugh under his breath. “Well, probably anything would’ve been better than catching you with your, erm, boyfriend’s hand down–”

“Alright, alright!” Dean did his best to be quiet.

When Sam looked at him again, his face was serious. “I am happy for you, Dean.” He winced. “Tell Novak I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sure.” Dean let out a long breath when his brother finally turned towards the door. Sam was right, there were probably a hundred better ways to have done this, but Dean was starting to feel a sense of relief that definitely hadn’t been there that morning.

Chapter Text

Why he had never used Cas’ number, Dean couldn’t say. It was there, saved on his phone, unused but not forgotten.

Today, Dean figured, it would make no difference if they crossed one more line.

Or a few more, given that Dean’s last text had contained his home address with an invitation for Cas to come so they could talk.

While Dean had calmed down after their private moment in the bathroom, Castiel’s assurances, sweet and honest, playing on repeat inside his brain, now he was getting worried again.

Every minute felt exponentially longer, making Dean wonder if there was something wrong with time itself. Or if it was just him. He paced around his living room, occasionally righting something that seemed a few inches off or picking something up and finding a better place for it. His house was clean, Dean liked to keep it that way, and still, it was a wonder how many things seemed wrong  when he looked at the place with a new perspective.

The knock on the door came when he was holding his coffee machine – which had no right to be as heavy as it was – and it was probably for the best since its previous spot had been perfect. Now, Dean couldn’t even remember where he wanted to put it.

Reluctantly, he placed it back where he found it and went to open the door.

There, just as expected, stood Castiel.

A little ruffled and breathless, like he drove there in a hurry and wasted no time ringing coming up to the door and ringing the bell after getting out of the car. Dean wanted to kiss him. Instead, he stepped back to let Cas pass him and walk into the house – Castiel was in Dean’s house! – and settled for breathing in Cas’ scent after he passed him. Dean had wanted them to talk and make sure everything was fine. Have a civilised conversation.

That meant he should stop drooling, even if just enough to be able to produce words.

“I’m sorry,” Dean started. "I've talked to my brother... Explained everything."

“How did you explain where you know me from?” Cas asked.

“Actually, I told him you were my boyfriend.”

Cas stared at him.

He never blinked much and until right now, Dean considered it hot and it didn’t bother him. Until now, their relationship was clearly defined, confined to Perdition and their bi-weekly meetings. No other contact.

Except that was a lie and Dean had been pretending what he felt for Cas was merely sexual with no romantic component. 

Finally, Cas blinked. “That makes sense,” he replied, voice measured and not convincing Dean in the slightest.

There was something about the way he leaned further into Dean’s space, about how his eyes darted occasionally to Dean’s lips and how he kept clenching his hands at his side as if he wanted to grab onto something. There was something about his parted lips and trembling breath.

Dean felt that something too.

“Yeah. Makes sense.” He went for Cas’ mouth as soon as he said it, catching his lips in a kiss, melting against Cas’ body. Moaning into Cas’ mouth when the man clinged back to him, pulled Dean closer and held him with those large hands on Dean’s back.

“Dean,” he whispered when they separated to catch their breaths.

Dean licked his lips. He wanted to taste every bit of Cas, everything the Dom gave him. “You would… Would you like that? To be, uh. To be with me, like that?”

“I thought about you, the first time I saw you walk through the door. I thought about what you would be doing when you checked in. I wondered what marks were left on your body when you were leaving.” Cas stopped short, glancing away. “I apologize if that’s inappropriate.”

Cas was a few inches shorter than Dean, so Dean had to lower his head to catch his eye again. “C’mon, man. You were never inappropriate with me and I’m guessing you weren’t going to do or say anything, right? Which would be a shame, by the way.” He could see Cas fighting the smile.

“Quite.” Cas kissed him again, this time only staying on Dean’s mouth for a short while before switching to the hinge of his jaw and heading to Dean’s neck. He licked a stripe up over Dean’s throat and Dean threw his head back, closed his eyes. “Yes, I’d like it. More than you know. I’d take care of you.”

“Will you?” Dean meant it as a challenge, meant it to sound defiant but it came out as a plea and despite being taller than Cas was, Dean felt like he was grovelling at the Dom’s feet. He wasn’t opposed to the idea.

“Whatever you want.”

Dean finally dropped to his knees. “I want to be yours.” Looking up at Cas somehow felt much more natural. “Everything. All the time.” Forever.

Castiel brushed a stray strand of hair from Dean’s forehead. “How can I refuse,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss Dean – immediately taking charge, capturing Dean’s lips, slipping a tongue in his mouth, biting Dean’s lower lip when he drew back. “ Dean.”

“Yeah?”

“Show me your bedroom.”

It was a miracle Dean didn’t pass out right then and there. It helped that he was on his knees, grounded and secure, looking up at Castiel for direction. The only direction required of him was the way to his bedroom and Dean obliged, leading them to his bed. He spent the next few minutes in a haze, the thought Castiel is in my home repeating in his mind while they undressed, discarding the clothes on the floor, touching the exposed skin and kissing it, mouths hungry and tongues desperate for the taste.

While Dean couldn’t speak for the previous owners, during his time living there, the house hadn’t seen anything like it. He tried not to think about it, not to long for someone to share the space with. Share the bed with.

That was all about to change.

Per Castiel instructions, Dean climbed on the bed and got on his hands and knees. He earned himself a slap when he complained about Castiel taking too much time to prep him. He pushed back against the fingers – now two, sliding in and out – and settled for quiet moans and grabbing the bedspread, nearly tearing it apart. He wanted Cas in him, now , wanted the man to fuck him in his own home, his own bed for the first time. Wanted to be fucked so hard they broke the bed and ruined the sheets.

“Want you inside, please.”

There was a hand on his chest, helping him to just his knees and then both of Dean’s arms were put behind him, joined from elbows to wrists. He felt something soft on his skin, wrapping around them. “I assume you don’t have any ropes or cuffs here, do you?”

Right now, Dean very much regretted that fact. “No.”

“Is it okay if I use my tie?” Castiel asked, already starting on the first knot.

It seemed Dean wasn’t the only one who was impatient.

“Yeah. Please, sir,” Dean begged again, not even sure what for.

As always, Castiel worked quickly, the fact that he had to use a tie instead of something actually meant for bondage not slowing him down one bit. With his arms tied like that, Dean had to lie on his shoulders, face pushed into the sheets.

“Rise up again for a moment,” Castiel said. Ordered. “I’m going to put a pillow under you.”

It was better, the angle more comfortable and putting less strain on Dean’s body. He was about to make another remark about the time, not caring if it got him another a hit, when Castiel lined himself up and pushed inside, bottoming out in one long, careful slide.

Dean would never tire of the feeling of being impaled on that cock – it filled it just right, just enough that it was a stretch but not enough to hurt. It made him whole.

“Come inside me. Want it, so bad,” Dean babbled. “Want you here. Again. Always.”

“ Dean. ”

In the next moment, Castiel came to a near stop, only grinding down against Dean’s ass, cock shooting inside.

When they both calmed down, Dean looked at Castiel, summoning every last bit of courage he had. “So. You’re gonna stay.”

Castiel smiled. “Yes, Dean. I’m going to stay.”