Title: No Brakes Or Take-Backs
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Gabriel/Sam
Word Count: ~12,000
Summary: Castiel never wanted a demon. Now the thing's on his mind all the damn time. And his scent is everywhere.
Notes: Written for earth_heart because he prompts the most awesome things, like demon!Dean and wall sex and stuff :D Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. And wow, I'm sorry for my weird semi-hiatus, guys. Epic mind block, but it's gone now. Yay xD
As soon as Gabriel had walked in with that size-of-Texas, shit-eating grin on his face, Castiel felt the first coils of dread start in his stomach. The last time his brother had had a smile like that, Castiel had ended up staying in a Hostel in Austria with three Swedish lesbians who had no sense of modesty and a guy who seemed to be intent on setting the record for how much pot someone could smoke in their lifetime.
Needless to say, he was a little worried.
"You'll never guess what I just did," Gabriel sing-songed, his grin, if possible, getting wider as he situated himself on the other side of Castiel's kitchen island, leaning over it and stretching his arms playfully towards his stoic brother, wiggling his fingers at Castiel, who blanched and withdrew.
"I don't know, Gabe, tell me," he said wearily.
"Well…" Gabriel paused, stretching the word out to at least five syllables, before he regarded his fidgeting hands as though they were the most fascinating things in the world, and then grinned back at his little brother again. "I bought you something."
Castiel blinked. "What kind of something?"
"Oh, you'll see," the older Novak replied. Castiel could practically hear the maniacal laughter going on in his head. "I've also gone ahead and given you leave of absence from your job for the next week. You'll need it." He leered.
Castiel frowned in confusion. "What?" he demanded, not sure if he was more angry or downright terrified now – what would cause him to miss a week off work? "Gabriel, what the hell did you do?"
"Relax, bra'," the older man said, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender and backing away from the island, still grinning. Castiel hoped his face didn't split in half from it. "Just come with me and all your questions will be answered."
Still feeling that dread, growing spikes now and sinking into his stomach, Castiel swallowed and nodded, because there was no resisting Gabriel when he got an idea in his head. He allowed his older brother to hustle him out of the door and wondered if this was the last he'd be seeing of his apartment for another week.
Dean was kept away from most of the other demons and Angels in the facility. He slept on his own, curled up in a cocoon of his own wings because the humans who worked there didn't want to risk him getting scent or oils on any blankets and setting off the laundry staff.
Dean felt bad about that – it seemed like having him here was a huge inconvenience for the staff. He had just been transferred from another facility a few weeks ago and he thought he had settled in quite well here, though things were done differently. No blankets, for starters, and the isolation. And every staff member working in his cell block always wore masks and gloves and they never took their uniforms out of the place. The room was warm and so he didn't feel the need to ask for more blankets or pillows, but it was still strange.
The sun slanted in warm rays down onto the young demon's body, stirring him to wakefulness – he always rose with the sun, loving the feeling of it warming up his feathers, making them bristle and reseat themselves, ruffled from sleeping on them. The demon purred slightly, rolling onto his back and stretching his wings out, raising his arms above his head and his back arched as he stretched, like a cat. He held the position for a few seconds before collapsing back on the ground with a huge huff, his feathers ruffling before he rolled over again, blinking sleepily and rubbing at his face with the heel of his hand.
He used to have companions here with him, and they would all form giant nests at night and sleep together with their feathers meshed, their oils sticking them together in the morning to necessitate a playful disentanglement and grooming session, but they had been taken away, one by one, until it was just Dean left. Dean didn't know where they had gone and it was kind of lonely in his pen, but he was happy and every day people in masks came to greet him and feed him, to groom his wings with thick rubber gloves and let him outside to fly, though they always chased off other demons and Angels if the creatures came too close.
Dean regarded his life with a quiet kind of contentment, as long as his wings had room to stretch and his belly was full.
The demon pushed himself to his feet, bare feet scuffing along the floor, and he rubbed at his face again, stretching his wings out behind him. They were jet black and mottled with flashes of bright color; orange and blue and silver-white like opals. One colored feather of his could hold up to seven different shades in a splotch. His eyes flicked to black briefly when he looked up at the sun-grate, wincing when he saw how bright it was, and the black filter went away when he looked down again, blinking and waiting for his eyes to adjust.
He yawned, stifling his sound with the back of his hand, and scratched his bare chest absently, smacking his lips together a few times and shaking out his wings to dislodge some of the buildup of dirt and oil that had gathered at the base of them, and then proceeded to curl up again in a different corner of the room, curling a large, warm wing around himself and waiting until the people came.
"No," Castiel murmured, voice low with disbelief as he read the sign that marked their destination. He turned wide, disbelieving eyes on his brother. "No, you can't be serious."
"Listen," Gabriel said, switching off the radio which had been blaring Gaga's 'Born This Way' with Gabriel singing along loudly and off-key, and he parked on the side of the road leading up to the facility, turning to face Castiel who was still wearing the kind of expression one sees in horror movies. "I know you hate it, living all by yourself, even if you won't admit it. You never used to be this anti-social, and well…I figured…Sammy worked out really great for me. I think you should give this a try too."
"Demons, Gabriel?" Castiel asked in disbelief, his voice cracking on the word. "I don't want a demon. I can't afford to keep one. I don't have room for one. Hell, I don't need one."
"You need something," Gabriel snapped, for once dropping the façade of his light-hearted, all-in-good-fun persona. "Damn it, Cas – you're withdrawing and it's not healthy, okay? Me and Mike used to actually see you sometimes but you haven't come out for ages. You're either working or at home doing God knows what and I think you'd kill a dog, so I'm getting you a demon. I'm paying for all of it and you're going to give it a chance or I swear to God I'm sending you to the seminary 'cause you belong there."
"Jesus," Castiel said, holding his hands up in surrender. "Fine. God." He rolled his eyes, knowing he was being difficult, but damn it, he was fine. He didn't need to be worrying about a semi-intelligent creature wandering around his house while he was out at work, doing God knows what.
Gabriel hummed and switched the radio back on, driving the rest of the way up to the facility, and Castiel turned his eyes out of the window as they passed by giant cages, built like climbing frames that intersected with tightly woven octagons, forming a giant dome-like structure. In the dome were several bunkers and trees and gardens. It looked like a village inside of the dome.
He jumped, startled, when he heard a cry like a bird and a demon flew past the edges of the dome, its leathery dragon wings flared out as it caught the air and circled back up to a tree limb. It called again and several more joined it, the dozen or so of them taking to the air and play-fighting, tagging each other and darting away.
"I didn't know they had wings," he said to himself. Some of them had wings like bats, strong and smooth and they shone in the sunlight, talons glinting on the membranes. Others looked like birds, with massive feathery wings extending from their bodies. Some had two, some had four.
Gabriel smiled, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Sammy doesn't. And some of them breathe fire and shit like that." He caught Castiel's glare. "I bought the most harmless breed, don't you worry."
"He's gorgeous, isn't he?" came a soft voice, one that Dean recognized as one of the people. He made a curious sound, raising his head from his cocoon, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air. It smelled of people and cleanliness, but there was a foreign smell there too. Two of them that he didn't recognize.
"Yes," came a reply, short and breathless, and Dean curled his wing a little tighter around himself in defense, not knowing where the voice came from and not knowing who it belonged to.
Suddenly the food grate opened, only it was bigger than usual like when the people came to let him fly, and three men with masks on their faces came in. Dean's nose wrinkled, scenting the heavy lavender smell they always put on the masks so that they couldn't get his scent, but he crept closer anyway, making a soft noise of recognition when he saw Doctor Singer, his primary caretaker. He dropped to a crouch, wings flaring up behind him in defense to make himself look bigger, and he ambled over to Doctor Singer, keeping his eyes on the two strangers.
"He's harmless, really – just a little skittish at first. He'll warm up to ya quickly," the man said, leaning down to pet through Dean's hair with one gloved hand. "Dean?" The demon's eyes snapped up to Doctor Singer, and the man jerked his head towards the two men.
The demon made another soft sound in the back of his throat, kind of mix between a purr and a whine, and looked back to the two strangers. One was taller than the other, with thick black hair and bright blue eyes and Dean liked that, because the combination reminded him of his own coloration. He spread his wings out a little more, wondering if the man would recognize that they were the same, and the man's eyes watched the movement, widening slightly. The black in his eyes became more pronounced and his smell changed, and Dean purred again, crawling a little closer.
The man backed away a little and Dean paused, lowering his head, folding his wings so that he looked smaller because he didn't want to frighten the other creature. The shorter man smacked the other on the head and muttered; "Fuck's sake, Cas, he's gonna be yours so you might as well get used to it."
Cas. "Cas," Dean repeated, and the taller man – Cas – froze, watching Dean for a moment before he seemed to sigh, his shoulders dipping, and he crouched down so he was at eye level with Dean.
"Castiel," he said, gesturing to himself and Dean nodded, biting his lower lip gently. He attempted to get closer again, wanting to smell this new male and see if he smelled the same as Dean as well but the man stood before he could get a good scent on him. Dean whined and pressed closer, pressing his cheek against the man's leg, his wings falling around the man's feet.
"Cas," he murmured happily, nuzzling into Castiel's knee, wrapping his arms around Castiel's legs like a child.
Castiel fixed wide eyes on his brother, who he knew was grinning even behind the mask, and then the Doctor, whose cheeks were also bulging with a smile. They'd had to put on the masks because, apparently, Dean was a lust demon. A fucking lust demon, and Castiel would be furious at Gabriel except he was also kind of curious. Curious enough to look.
Lust demons work through scent, and their oils. Doctor Singer had told them that all the staff in this building worked with masks and gloves at all times, and if they got any of the oils on their skin they were sent to decontamination showers, because not only were these demons rare, but they were ultra rare in the fact that Dean, like all the other demons in this particular building, was a virgin.
A virgin lust demon.
And Castiel had thought this day couldn't get any weirder.
"What now?" he asked, aware of Dean's warm breath on his leg, of the weight of the feathers around his feet. It was oddly pleasant, like down blankets, and Castiel found himself wondering what Dean's feathers felt like – if they would be soft like a baby chick's or thin and stiff like an owl's.
The Doctor clapped his hands once, startling Dean who yipped and scurried away to the far corner of the room, covering himself in his wings. "The paperwork's all sorted out. I'll set up a transfer team and we'll get Dean into a van and we can drive him behind you, and then make the switch to your apartment. We'll be ready in about ten minutes."
The first half hour of their drive was silent, Castiel watching the rear view mirror to watch the truck following them. Then Gabriel broke it, because he never was one for long silences;
"So, do you like him?" he asked with barely contained excitement and premature victory.
Castiel bit his lip, thinking of the lust demon that was now to be called his own. Physically, though Castiel had no idea how demon physiology worked, Dean was no older than eighteen or nineteen. He looked like jailbait – like pretty, pretty jailbait. What little Castiel had seen of him, he'd liked, though – he looked strong and healthy, his skin a light tanned color, his eyes bright and a vibrant green. Castiel hadn't realized he could be so fascinated by a demon's wings.
His boss had a demon. It wasn't a lust demon, though – it was purely a demon for housework, though Castiel suspected that Zachariah got himself a little off-hours fun from the demon too. But Castiel didn't want to assume – he was afraid people would assume with him. After all, lust demons were kind of self explanatory, and he didn't want Dean to feel obligated in any way that he had to do…that. Castiel wasn't a pervert, and in his mind demons weren't exactly smart enough to distinguish between what they should do and what they had a choice over. By no means did Castiel want to force Dean to do anything that he didn't want to.
But it wasn't like he was trained in any of that…Right? He was a virgin. Castiel assumed that meant completely untouched.
But… "Yeah," he replied, licking his dry lips, thinking of the way Dean had sunk so gracefully to his knees. Even behind the mask, Castiel had caught whiffs of his scent, and it smelled like…something indescribable. He thought of Dean's mouth – those full lips in that young face and innocent, guileless eyes, so eager to please, so easy to corrupt. He shivered. "I don't have a second room in my apartment."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "That's kind of the point," he said, cocking his head to one side.
"I'm not going to fuck him, Gabriel," Castiel snapped, almost guiltily, cheeks flushing a little at the idea. "I'll feed him and give him a good life, but I will not fuck him."
"He's a lust demon, Cas."
"Yeah, so that means he'll just be some…No," Castiel bit out in disgust, shaking his head. "It's in his nature but that doesn't mean it's what he wants – he doesn't need some dirty old man like me bending him over and fucking him like he's not worth anything, alright? He doesn't know what he wants."
Gabriel was silent for a moment, and then he laughed. When Castiel demanded to know what he was thinking, he just shook his head and started humming a Ke$ha song. "Just remember, Cas," Gabriel said when they pulled up outside his apartment, "that when a demon decides that he's gonna make you happy, you just gotta hold on tight and enjoy the ride 'cause there's no brakes or take backs."
Castiel was silent, entering the apartment after the transfer team had carried Dean in there. He found the demon crawling around silently, his wings pinned tightly to his back, carefully snuffing at every corner of Castiel's apartment, his eyes wide and curious as he tried to scent everything about his new home.
Castiel froze in the door.
God, it was worse without the mask. A thousand, million times worse.
Dean's scent was everywhere and Christ, it was the best damn thing Castiel had ever experienced in his life. It was like something went into his body through his nose and straight down his spine, lightning and heat, and gave his libido a good kick in the ass to get started. Castiel felt himself hardening, just watching Dean explore, his eyes wide and disbelieving as he watched his new…pet? Companion?
Dean lifted his head curiously, turning to the door that led to Castiel's bedroom, and started heading towards it. Oh shit. "No!" Castiel shouted, more harshly than he'd meant to, and ran so that he was between Dean and the door. The demon mewled, startled by the outburst, flattening his wings to the floor and laying low in submission, watching Castiel with wide, innocent eyes. The position just made him look like an offering to Castiel, his for the taking, and Castiel growled, fighting against his body's instincts and reactions, and shook his head, kicking vaguely in Dean's direction so the creature had to move or get hit.
"You're not allowed in here, do you understand?" Castiel ordered, and Dean swallowed and nodded.
"Yes," he whispered, tilting his head down and he folded one wing against his back, tilting onto his side so he was still on his knees, but his upper body was twisted so he was on his back mostly, baring his throat. "I'm sorry."
His voice. Damn it, how could that even be possible? Castiel pressed his lips together to stifle a whimper, fisting his hands in his hair, and moved over to his liquor cabinet. He needed a drink – a thousand of them. He needed to leave before he did something he regretted. But he couldn't just abandon the poor creature and he had nowhere to go, besides – damn Gabriel and his call to get him off work for a week.
It was worse than the hostel.
Castiel sat down with a whiskey cradled in his hand, and closed his eyes, tipping his head back against the comfortable cushions. He heard Dean moving and opened one eye to see the demon continuing to explore, snuffling gently and being sure to avoid Castiel's door. Then, the couch dipped and Dean was resting his forearms on the other cushion, kneeling on the floor and watching Castiel.
The human swallowed and took another drink. "What is it?"
"Are you going to fuck me?"
Castiel damn near choked on his drink, sitting forward so he didn't end up inhaling it. It burned at his nose and eyes and he beat his chest, trying to recover. Dean watched with wide eyes, shrinking back so he was sitting on his haunches and no longer touching the couch.
"Wh…what?" Castiel asked when he had gotten his breath back, looking over at Dean.
The demon shrugged, his dark wings falling to the ground behind him. "I just…" He fidgeted, looking down, then smiled a little sheepishly and flashed his dark eyes up at Castiel again. "That's what the movers were talking about and I was curious."
God help him. "No, Dean," Castiel whispered, "I'm not going to fuck you."
To his surprise, the demon seemed a little relieved. "Okay." He made to stand up.
"Wait." Dean obediently stilled when Castiel reached out to him. "Aren't you -?"
"I understand that I have certain effects on humans," Dean said, looking out of the small window in Castiel's apartment, then to where the sunlight slanted through and fell on the couch. "I'm not quite sure what they are, but I know humans tend to associate them with sex. I'm not stupid, Cas – I know that humans fuck when they smell like…" He paused, scenting the air, and then gestured to Castiel, who blushed. "But I just, I don't know…I've never done it before." He shrugged.
"I know," Castiel rasped, his throat dry. He understood – really, he did. Dean just needed to stop speaking and smelling so good otherwise he would do something that would force the demon and he didn't want to force Dean, because that was just unfair. It wasn't Dean's fault he was the way he was, and it wasn't his fault that Castiel's brother was a busy-body who apparently thought it was okay to throw such sweet temptation like this in Castiel's lap without warning or permission.
Dean smiled, his eyes glowing softly in pleasure, wings fanning gently behind his back. "I can make you happy in other ways, though," he said, and Castiel's eyes widened, remembering his brother's words. "I know how to cook, and clean and stuff. If you don't mind it, I can keep the windows open so it doesn't smell so much like me." Dean kept talking about all the ways he could make the experience as fine as possible until Castiel got used to all the stimulation of having a lust demon in his apartment, and Castiel just watched, nodding, and drank, unable to believe that he had such a pushy dick of a brother to bring him this amazing, awful blessing-curse.
The apartment had never been filled with so much noise. Not even half a day into Dean's residence here and there was so much laughter. Dean could cook, and damn could he cook – Castiel had never had cheesecake like that in his life. From scratch.
Dean had also cleaned the apartment, except Castiel's room, and had aired it out so it didn't smell so potently of him all the time. He would hum or sing or tap out a rhythm on any available surface with his fingers while he worked, seemingly full of boundless energy. His wings fanned out behind him happily whenever he stretched them, slick with natural oils that Castiel had learned from a pamphlet helped them in grooming and in mating rituals. He wasn't sure how one was supposed to tell which kind of oil was which.
He would have to look it up.
Soon enough night came, and Castiel sighed, rubbing his forehead and knew he would have a bitch of a hangover the next morning, because he'd been drinking throughout the day since Dean came home. It had taken just enough of the edge off that Castiel felt he could control himself a little, but it also fucked up his inhibitions so at times, when Dean smiled or looked at him just right, or gave a teasing little shake of his wings, it was all Castiel could do not to slam the demon up against a wall and have his wicked way with him.
"You can sleep on the couch," he said, looking at the piece of furniture while Dean stood next to him, arms folded over his chest. "I'll see about getting you some bedding tomorrow, if you'd prefer, but I don't have anything spare right now. I'm sorry."
"S'okay," Dean replied amiably, smiling a little. Then, he bit his lip, looking down for a long moment, before he carefully, gently reached forward with a wing, brushing the tips of his feathers along Castiel's arm. "Thank you, Cas. For taking me in."
Castiel swallowed, guilty over being such an ass about it – he was pretty sure banning Dean from his room, yelling at him and eye-raping him all day wasn't a cause for gratitude. Dean was just too good-natured. Castiel wouldn't do anything to fuck it up with his creepy, perverse desires.
The problem was that he could. That he was expected to. Legally, Dean was his – Castiel had every right to bend him over and fuck the life out of him until Dean couldn't walk straight. Legally, Castiel could do anything he wanted to Dean, and he was afraid that if he started, he wouldn't stop.
He went to bed thinking about Dean, about what he would do to that boy – he was just a boy, if even that because Castiel was pretty sure demons aged quickly, so Dean was probably not even nineteen. Castiel bit his lip, laying down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, biting his lip softly as he dragged his hand down his chest, gently pressing against his cock through his slacks, which had been hard pretty much since he'd first walked in and smelled Dean. Fuck, but the demon just smelled amazing. Probably felt just as good too – those lips thick and wrapping around his cock…those wings…God, he could still feel the gentle brush of Dean's feathers against his arm, could imagine fisting his hands in the soft clumps of down at the base of his wings. He clenched his jaw, biting the back of his free hand to stifle any possible sounds he might make that Dean might overhear.
He quickly undid his slacks, taking himself in hand. His cock was so hard it hurt – his hands smelled like Dean though he had deliberately avoided touching the demon. Sometimes it was inevitable, though, and the hand currently covering his mouth was saturated with Dean's scent. His other hand seemed slick with Dean's oil and he couldn't tell if that was his imagination or not.
He imagined Dean kneeling between his legs, his eyes almost completely black, and his body trembling with eager anticipation. He imagined the demon mewling in that way he did – trusting, needing Castiel to guide him through what he needed to do. In his mind, he pulled Dean close to his body and guided the demon down onto his cock. He fisted his hands in those slick wings and pulled and twisted them until Dean choked on his cries, his virgin body tight and welcoming around Castiel's cock, internal muscles clenching and milking him for everything he gave. He was burning hot, trembling in Castiel's arms.
"Cas." Castiel groaned, his back arching, hand tightening around his cock as he imagined Dean gasping his name, desperate and needy.
"Fuck," he whispered, his hand speeding up on his cock and tightening his hand on the upstroke, twisting at the head. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck…"
He came with a shudder, so hard his toes curled, whining into the back of his hand and clenching his eyes tightly shut, thrashing against the bed. "Oh God," he growled once he'd come down from his high, shaking and sweaty. He hurriedly sat up, knowing that Dean would probably be able to smell the pheromones from his room – he opened his bedroom window to air out the place and hurried to the shower, determined to wash himself clean of this momentary lapse in fortitude. It wouldn't happen again.
Castiel woke up with an armful of lust demon.
It started dreary, waking up from a very deep, orgasm-induced sleep. He sighed, feeling something very warm in front of him, and smiled, nuzzling into it. It was incredibly soft, and warm, and felt and smelled amazing. He pressed up against it, wrapping his arms around the…
Castiel's eyes flew open and, in a move invented and patented by romcoms, flinched back in the bed with a loud, startled cry. Dean immediately rolled out of his bed as well, his eyes wide and afraid – he wasn't groggy with sleep at all. His feathers bristled up in unconscious aggression, showing up the perceived threat in the room, even as his body sank to the floor, the demon curling in on himself to make him look smaller.
"What the hell?" Castiel demanded, guiltily covering his lower half with his sheets, aware that Dean's scent had been affecting him in his sleep and now he had a hard-on that was almost as bad as last night's.
"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, his wings trembling before he pinned them tightly to his back, his eyes wide and scared, wrapping his arms around his knees. "I'm so sorry. I just…" He whined softly, baring his teeth, and shook his head.
Castiel took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. "I thought I told you; you aren't allowed in here."
"I know," the demon replied, voice heavy with guilt and self-deprecation. "I know, and I'm sorry. But I wanted to keep the windows open because you don't like my smell in here and it was really cold, colder than I was used to, and it was so nice and warm in here and I figured that it was just one night so it wasn't that big of a deal and I'm sorry but it was so warm and I tried just sleeping on the floor but you told me to get in bed and -."
"Wait." Castiel held up a hand, his eyes widening. "I told you to get in bed with me?"
Dean bit his lip, and nodded, his eyes going half-lidded. "I tried to keep myself to my side of the bed. I know you don't want me…that way." Oh, how wrong he was. "But it was really warm under the covers with you and it felt really nice. And…you wanted to touch my wings. Said they were beautiful." The demon took a deep breath, his wings curving forward to hunch over his shoulders, looking up at Castiel. "Did you really mean that?"
Castiel took another deep breath – he couldn't deal with this right now. He sighed and went to rub his eyes.
"Don't!" Dean cried out, leaping to his feet and onto the bed again, kneeling over Castiel's outstretched legs and catching his wrist before he could touch his eyes. Castiel stared at him in disbelief. "You've got my oil all over your hands," Dean whispered, and sure enough there was a light coating of slick all over Castiel's hand. "You touched my wings at night. It felt so good, Cas."
For a moment, there was nothing but the two of them staring at each other, and then Dean returned his attention to Castiel's hand, and he leaned down and started to lap at the oil with a rough tongue. Castiel shivered when Dean's tongue curled along his fingers, scratching over his sensitive palm.
It was like he was in a trance – he watched Dean lick his hand clean and offered no resistance when the demon dropped the first and picked up his other hand, starting on that one. His touch was gentle but firm, affection clear in the careful, delicate swipes of the tip of his tongue and the soft purring sound coming from Dean's chest. When he had finished with the second hand, Dean began to lick up Castiel's arm, sliding closer along the man's legs until he was straddling Castiel's thighs, tongue dragging along the sleep-warm skin until a t-shirt stopped him.
Castiel blew out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Dean finally stopped and straightened up to look at him. The demon's eyes were dark, his black filter having descended over his eyes. His wings were out slightly, relaxed and loose behind him, blending and contrasting with the white sheets of Castiel's bed. Even through the sheets and Dean's clothing, Castiel could feel the demon's body heat, warm and almost pulsing, the sensation intense where Dean was touching him.
"I touched myself after you went to bed," Dean whispered out of the blue.
Castiel's eyes widened. He choked on his air. "What?" he asked, just as softly, afraid to break the quiet, the intimacy of the moment.
Dean blushed, biting his lip, looking down briefly then back up, his hands sliding slowly to rest at Castiel's shoulders. "After you went to your room, I was on the couch. I could hear you, and smell you, and…" The demon closed his eyes, his expression smoothing out in remembered pleasure, thighs clenching in response to the memory around Castiel's legs. "I was on the couch, listening to you, able to smell you everywhere and I needed. I needed like I've never needed before in my life and you'd hardly even touched me." His eyes flared open again, nostrils flaring, cheeks getting a little redder. "I fucked myself with my fingers," he whispered dirtily, leaning a little closer and listening with relish to the hitch in Castiel's breathing. "I fucked myself, and imagined it was you. Got so wet."
"I…" Castiel swallowed, mortified that Dean had heard him but so turned on that he couldn't really care or think about that right now. "I didn't know male demons could get wet."
Dean smiled, his expression predatory. "Dripping."
It was like all of Castiel's good intentions packed up and fled town when Dean looked at him like that, like he was just waiting for Castiel's order, waiting for the man to make the first move. Castiel groaned, closing his eyes, and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Dean's collarbone. "What do you want from me?" he demanded.
Dean purred softly in the back of his throat, ducking his head down to nuzzle against Castiel's cheek. "I just want to make you happy," he whispered, voice low and desperate as he clung to Castiel's neck, whuffing softly against his five o'clock shadow. "In any way I can."
"What changed?" Castiel asked, remembering Dean's reluctance from just that morning, unable to believe that the demon could think himself ready after such a short amount of time.
Dean's feathers rustled in uneasiness, flexing out behind him for a moment before he pinned them tightly to his back, shutting off the sensitive area at the base of his wings. For a long moment he was silent, then; "You are a good man."
Pushing Dean away was possibly one of the hardest things Castiel had ever had to do, but he was too tired – and hungover – and strung out on Dean's pheromones to even attempt to handle this situation like he should. "Go to sleep, Dean," he muttered, laying back down and turning around so his back was to the demon.
He could hear the rejection in Dean's voice. "Do you want me to leave the room?" He sounded so small and so young – Castiel hated himself at that moment, hated that Dean had such an influence over him already, and hated that that influence made Castiel want to do things that were, by and large, unnatural. Perverse.
He sighed, knowing he was being weak. "Yes." He wouldn't be able to share a bed or a room with Dean without doing something, he was certain. "You can close the windows as long as the room's aired out again by the time I wake up. I'll get you some blankets and things in the morning, okay?"
Dean mewled softly, his feathers rustling as he flattened them to the floor. "Yes, Alpha."
Castiel woke up the next morning with a pit in his gut and a pounding headache. He groaned, rubbing his head, and punched randomly at the alarm clock buttons until that infernal beeping sound quit – stupid not getting up for work but forgetting to turn off the alarm. Damn it.
His hand hit something cold and hard and Castiel cautiously blinked his eyes open, looking to one side. On the bedside table were painkillers and a large glass of water. He took them, already feeling miles better as the placebo effect took hold and the cold water washed away the taste of whiskey and sleep from his mouth. He went to the bathroom, showered, and brushed his teeth. Twice. Anything that delayed the moment between when he would have to leave his room and face what he had done last night – what he had said.
What Dean had said.
Finally he couldn't delay it any longer, and he opened his bedroom door to a sight he hadn't expected.
Dean was there, on the couch, but he wasn't alone – there was a man Castiel had never seen on the couch with him, sitting very close to the demon, his hands obviously doing something though, from the angle, Castiel couldn't see what. Gabriel was standing in the kitchen, nursing a cup of fresh coffee, watching the two of them.
The male was tall, muscular – he had a head of floppy brown hair and a youthful face, though most of it was hidden by his bulk and hair. Cautiously, unsure of what exactly Castiel was interrupting, he made his way over to his brother, who fixed him with a very unimpressed look.
"You haven't been grooming him," he said by means of a 'Hello'.
Castiel swallowed. "I haven't touched him at all," he said, almost defensively, and turned his back on his brother to make a cup of coffee for himself so that he didn't have to meet Gabriel's eyes. "Aren't there places for that?"
"Fuck's sake, Cas, man up. Wings like his need to be groomed every day – you won't be able to afford that," Gabriel snapped, setting his coffee down, and he grabbed Castiel's shoulder, spinning him around. His eyes widened – Castiel looked like Hell. He looked like a haunted man. "Jesus, what happened?"
"I…" Castiel swallowed, closing his eyes, and shook his head. "Dean came into my room last night. I almost…shit, Gabe – I can't do that to him. He's so…kind and eager to please and it just makes me feel like a dirty old rapist, some of the things I want to do to him…"
"He wants you, Cas," Gabriel insisted, squeezing his brother's shoulder. "You're not forcing him if he wants you."
Castiel closed his eyes – shit, he was too tired for this. "How can you possibly know that?"
Gabriel smiled. "I have my own, remember?" he asked, jerking his head towards the other male. Castiel's eyes widened. That was Sam? Jesus, the demon was a giant – and Castiel was surprised. He had always assumed that Sam was female.
Suddenly there was a low, pleasured sound from the demons on the couch – Dean arched up into Sam's hands, whining pitifully at the press of the larger demon's nails into the dirty clumps of sweat and dust and dirt at the base of Dean's wings, thoroughly and carefully picking up the uncomfortable, itchy clumps and scratching the sensitive skin underneath.
Sam didn't have wings but his pen mates had, and he knew how to groom them to a decent standard. He tutted at the state of Dean's wings, finding dirt under the stiff, large feathers on the edges and more in the soft down. His large hands managed to cover a lot of ground and Dean's wings were slowly gaining their usual luster under his touch.
Dean let out a loud, grateful sound when Sam removed a particularly prominent ache from his wings, massaging and relaxing the muscles around the sore area, his wings gently fanning the air in pleasure and thanks, and Sam rumbled low in his chest, leaning down and snuffling into Dean's hair, learning the scent of his master's brother's nest mate. Dean leaned his head to one side and allowed it, smiling a little when Sam's hands kept massaging his sore back, the larger demon's fingers working pure magic under his wings.
"What's he doing?" Castiel couldn't pin down the exact emotion in his voice at that moment. Either jealousy or possessiveness. Curiosity and lust. Maybe all.
"He's grooming Dean, like you should have," Gabriel replied softly. "You'd be getting that if you did it for him."
Dean was arching a little under Sam's hands as the demon leaned down, nipping at Dean's throat and the other creature mewled, his wings flaring out, and turned his head towards Sam, butting his forehead against Sam's jaw and biting him lightly – it was a warning but a playful one. Sam acquiesced, humming in his throat and he tugged lightly at Dean's wings, grinning at the creature's surprised bark, and leapt off the couch, grinning even wider when Dean growled and rose to chase him.
"It's not all about sex, Cas," Gabriel continued, almost so low and Castiel couldn't hear him. "Sometimes it's just enjoying each other's company. About making each other happy."
Dean was smiling widely as he tackled Sam to the ground, rolling around with the demon, his wings flailing excitedly in their play until Sam managed to get him pinned down again, the larger demon obviously much stronger than his playmate. Dean huffed, his wings flattening to the ground a little in submission, but he didn't dip his head, instead turning around to grin at Sam. The other demon hummed once more in satisfaction of his win, playfully biting at one of Dean's wings, which earned him a clip on the side of the head.
"Play nice," Dean growled, and Sam laughed again, running away from Dean again in the small apartment and behind the couch, ducking down when the demon used his wings to leap over it and try and catch him again. They reminded Castiel of children, of two dogs playing. The sight filled him with warmth and happiness – he felt like he was looking at a family.
"He told me he wanted to make me happy last night," Castiel told his brother, turning around and pouring his coffee from the machine, blowing on it for a few seconds before taking a sip. "I guess I didn't think too deeply about what that meant."
Gabriel grinned, and then snapped his fingers. "Sammy." The demons stilled in their play, Dean straightening up from where he had just been about to tackle Sam again. The tall demon purred softly, heading over to his owner with a small smile. He leaned down and pressed his cheek to the side of Gabriel's head. "You have a week to sort yourself out, Cas," Gabriel said, gently scratching at Sam's neck, and the demon purred more loudly, baring his throat to the affectionate touch. "We'll come back in a few days to see how you're doing."
When Gabriel and Sam left, Castiel noticed that Dean hurried to open the windows to rid the place of his scent, and he took a wet towel scented with lemon freshener and wiped down the couch and everything he seemed to have touched. Castiel watched him while he did so – watched the demon meticulously wipe every trace of his scent and touch from Castiel's main room and then throw all the blankets (both from that room and Castiel's own bed) into the washing machine that Castiel had been lucky enough to land in his apartment, before he came back in, wiping his hands on his jeans. Castiel needed to take him clothes shopping – those had to be dirty by now, slicked with his oil and dirt.
Dean caught him staring after a moment, and he flushed, biting his lower lip slightly, before dipping his wings down to the ground, falling around his sides and hiding his arms. "Do you feel better?" he asked.
"Your head," Dean explained, making a vague gesture towards his head, averting his gaze and smiling a little. "Does it feel better?"
"Oh." Castiel blinked, feeling like an idiot. "Yes. Thank you, Dean."
The demon flashed his dark, wide green eyes over at Castiel for a moment, and the man took a deep breath, holding it and counting to three when the demon approached him, fidgeting when he stood a 'safe' distance away, and not crowding Castiel's space.
"I wanted to apologize again."
"Dean, that's not -."
"No." Dean flushed, biting his lip again. It was starting to get red and a little swollen from the repeated action. "I didn't mean…about that. Though I am sorry – I know I shouldn't have gone into your room." Castiel swallowed, at a loss of what to say. "I meant…how I behaved." Dean flushed a little more and Castiel's breath left him in one huge gust when he realized what Dean was talking about. "I don't know what came over me. I just felt…"
He trailed off, looking away to one side, and Castiel carefully set his coffee mug down, taking Dean's chin with shaking fingers and lifting the young creature's head, forcing their eyes to meet.
"What did you feel, Dean?" he asked, voice low and raspy.
The demon swallowed, his beautiful green eyes dark and wary. "Want," he whispered, sounding ashamed, trying to pull his head away from Castiel's hold but the man wouldn't let him go – he tightened his hand so Dean couldn't move. "I…You were just so good to me yesterday, and I found myself wanting to…to make you happy." He blushed. "Any way that I could. And I know sex makes a lot of people happy and I thought, if that was true, then it couldn't be bad. And you just smelled so good and I -."
He cut himself off, swallowing again, and took another step closer to Castiel, pressing himself up against the male. Dean was very warm, the air between them getting warmer when he curved his wings forward to wrap around him and Castiel. The man took another deep breath, the air he drew in heavy with Dean's scent, and his hand dropped.
"Last night," he began, and the demon mewled softly in the back of his throat, leaning forward and dipping his head down so his temple brushed against Castiel's scruffy jaw. "Last night, you called me 'Alpha'. What did you mean?"
"You are my Alpha," Dean whispered emphatically in reply. "The one that I will always bare my throat to. The one for whom I will always sink to my knees." He paused for a moment, flashing his eyes to Castiel's, and then took one of the human's shaking hands and placed it on his chest, over his heart. "The one who controls, and guides, and loves me. My Alpha." He moved Castiel's other hand to one of his wings, forcing the man's palm against the warm, soft down of the underside. "My mate."
Castiel's hand clenched in Dean's wing, unable to help himself. It was soft – softer than he had imagined, and slightly sticky with his recent grooming, slick oil coating every feather and making the feathers slide through Castiel's hand as though they were made of water. He took a deep, shaky breath, lightly digging his hand under the feathers, and Dean made a soft sound in the back of his throat, his wing flinching slightly from Castiel's touch.
"Sorry," Castiel said, though he didn't move his hand away, and Dean just pressed his wing right back against Castiel's hand so he figured it hadn't hurt that much. The young creature was trembling, his lips parted slightly as he began to pant, pressing more insistently with his wing into Castiel's hand. "What does it feel like?" he asked, honestly curious.
Dean swallowed, taking a deep breath and letting it back out. "Hot," he rasped in reply. "Really, really hot. And sharp."
"Sharp?" Castiel repeated, brow furrowing a little.
Dean nodded. "Feels so good, Alpha," he said softly, and Castiel hadn't realized how low Dean's voice could get – he sounded like a long-time smoker, growling out the title, and Castiel shuddered, resting his forehead against Dean's and pulling the other creature closer to him. Dean went easily, so pliant and accepting of Castiel's will, and he purred softly in the back of his throat, fanning his wings out a little to give Castiel more area to touch. The demon's eyes had gone completely black and almost opaque – Castiel couldn't see the iris under the thick screen.
Braver, now, and not meeting any resistance, Dean pressed a little closer, and Castiel sucked in a breath when the creature's bare skin brushed along his chest, so warm through the thin cotton t-shirt he'd shrugged on.
"Please," the demon whispered, pressing his jaw against Castiel's, his shoulder dipping so that his throat was bare. His wings were trembling, the feathers bristling up to make him look bigger, slick with new oils and the scent of Dean was everywhere, invading Castiel's senses like an army and taking control of his brain. "Please, Cas. I want."
"You don't know what you want," Castiel replied, not knowing how he still managed to argue with the demon's influence pressing on him from all sides. He was hard, so fucking hard, and it was taking all of his self control not to hump against Dean like some kind of demented animal.
Dean stifled a soft sound against Castiel's neck. "But you do," he replied, almost smugly, but when his fingers fisted in Castiel's clothes, there was only desperation in his voice and in his shaking body. "You know what I want. Please, Alpha, give it to me."
And that broke Castiel. The man had to stifle a pained groan against Dean's jaw, his hips thrusting forward, wanting to curl in on himself because the pang of desire was so sharp, if felt like a knife to his gut. He grabbed the young creature, turning them around and slamming Dean against the wall, immediately crowding his space because if he was going to Hell, then he was gonna do it right.
The taste of Dean's mouth was like his scent multiplied by a thousand – Castiel bit into the demon's mouth, his tongue sliding in easily when Dean's lips parted, wet and full, and the creature bit back a small whimper, his wings dropping in submission, his body dipping so that he could press more insistently against Castiel's form. His legs spread, letting the human fall between them, and that was when Castiel could suddenly feel Dean's own erection pressing insistently against his thigh, and Castiel groaned, rolling his hips between the creature's legs and earning soft hisses of pleasure from both of them.
Castiel growled into Dean's mouth, earning another low whimper from the creature and a teasing flutter of his wings, the brightly colored splotches becoming more obvious when they were shiny with oil, and, curious, Castiel moved his hands slowly around under Dean's arms, finding the base of them where his skin molded into wings, the muscles on either side of his spine bulging out into the strong appendages.
He made a surprised sound. "Fuck, Dean, you're soaked," he murmured in a low growl and the demon whined and Castiel felt another few rivulets of slick coat his fingers. He bared his teeth in an almost manic grin, moving away from Dean's panting mouth and instead pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses against his jaw, down his neck, and the creature eagerly bared his throat to Castiel's lips and teeth. His hands explored, pressing closer to the underside of the base of Dean's wings and, the closer he got, the harder the creature trembled.
"Cas," Dean whimpered, his voice coming out high pitched and breathy, his hands fisting desperately in the back of Castiel's t-shirt because he didn't have anything else to hold on to. "Cas, Cas, fuck!" Dean cried out when Castiel found the oil glands at the base of his wings, the human rubbing his slick fingers over the tiny, walnut-sized glands, and Dean's wings convulsed, pleasure unlike what he'd ever known coursing through him. It hadn't been like this with his nest mates. Not even close.
"Feel good, Dean?" Castiel rasped, blown away by the scent of Dean's oil and the young creature's high, breathy cries. He pressed harder against the glands and his hands became soaked with oil, Dean throwing his head back hard enough against the wall that it sounded painful.
His skin was starting to get slick with sweat, his scent maddening and strong, and Castiel couldn't help himself – he grabbed almost savagely at the base of Dean's wings, coaxing more oil out of the sensitive glands, and bit down on Dean's neck to stop him thrashing so much. Not hard enough to break skin but hard enough to hurt.
Dean let out a rough, inhuman sound, his body going completely still for the longest moment, his legs clamping tightly around Castiel's thighs, and he shuddered and moaned brokenly, and Castiel felt warm dampness against his cock where it was pressed up against Dean's own. He paused for a moment, his eyes wide when he drew away as he realized that the creature had just come, just from Castiel's hands in his wings and the bite.
Shit, that was hot.
Flushed and totally fucked out, Dean panted as he came down from his high, using Castiel as a support for a long moment before he shifted, whining softly again. "Fuck, Alpha," he moaned, pressing a sucking kiss to Castiel's jaw, and the human shuddered. Dean withdrew a little, moving his hands to the hem of Castiel's t-shirt and drew it over the man's head, his mouth immediately returning, over his racing pulse, along his collarbone, leaving huge red marks wherever his mouth landed. Castiel shuddered at that, lacing his fingers through Dean's sweaty hair as the demon continued to lave at his skin with teeth and tongue. "Alpha, let me," Dean murmured, slowly sinking to his knees in front of Castiel, his eyes green again for now; a thin sliver of emerald around the giant black pupil.
"Dean," Castiel gasped as the demon leaned forward to mouth at Castiel's cock through his sleep pants, his breath warm and his mouth wet. It felt fucking amazing, made Castiel rock his hips forward, wanting to get deeper into that wet heat, and Dean hurriedly scrambled at his clothes, pulling down Castiel's pants and underwear until his cock was exposed.
Castiel shivered at the brush of cold air to his sensitive, burning skin. He was so hard it hurt, his cock flushed and red from being denied for so long. The man damn near collapsed at the first tentative lick of Dean's tongue over the head, Castiel biting his knuckles to keep an embarrassing noise falling from his mouth.
Reaching down with a shaking hand, he laced his fingers through Dean's damp hair, guiding the creature as gently as he could manage to lick and suck at his cock. Dean mewled, eyelids fluttering closed, and nuzzled against Castiel, his hands gripping the man's thighs to help keep him upright as he licked up and down the shaft obediently, until Castiel was a trembling, cursing mess, and then he finally took the head into his mouth, sucking gently, his cheeks hollowing out, his tongue curling along the bottom of the head.
Fuck, he was made for this, Castiel couldn't help but think, leaning forward so his forehead was against the wall and he could watch the demon try and take more into his mouth. It was obvious Dean had never done this before, which of course made sense, but he was definitely trying and enthusiasm more than made up for technique. The demon could take about two thirds of Castiel into his mouth before he choked and was forced to withdraw, his fingers forming a tight ring and moving up and down whatever part he couldn't reach, his tongue drawing lazy patterns and cushioning his teeth so that they didn't scrape against Castiel's sensitive flesh.
Castiel shuddered when Dean's eyes flashed up to him, so dark but still so innocent, on his knees, his wings flared out along the wall like ebony paint, the splotches of bright colors catching the light so beautifully. He reached down, but couldn't reach one of Dean's wings and somehow managed to bark out an order for them, and Dean obediently raised one, pressing the soft, sticky feathers into Castiel's hand.
The man grabbed them, able to feel the strong muscle and fine bone underneath, and Dean shivered, mewling around Castiel's cock, his eyes tearing up at the corners because he was trying to take Castiel so deeply, and Castiel was done. On edge for so long, he didn't stand a chance of lasting as long as he wanted to, and with a shallow, sharp thrust he was coming into Dean's mouth.
The creature was startled at first, not sure what to do with himself, and he withdrew and caught a splash of come on his chin, but then he was back, lapping curiously at the beads of pearly liquid that shot from Castiel's dick and purring, his wings fluttering in joy at the knowledge that he had pleased his Alpha, had shared in the sensation of an orgasm with Castiel.
He didn't know how long they stayed like that – it felt like forever before Castiel could blink open his eyes, before his heart seemed like it wouldn't burst out of his chest, and he gently tugged at Dean's soft hair, making him pull away from his over-sensitive cock.
He drew Dean up in silence, the creature panting from not being able to get enough air while he'd sucked Castiel off, his eyes slowly returning to their normal bright green color. Castiel's eyes locked onto the small string of come on his chin and he leaned forward, licking it up before drawing Dean into another kiss, this one softer, slower.
This time Dean's mouth also tasted like Castiel, and a small, primal part of him purred in pleasure at that. He cupped the younger creature's jaw, sinking his teeth into Dean's full bottom lip and tugging softly, earning a low sound from him.
"Are you going to fuck me?" Dean asked, low and breathy and still as innocent as last time, and this time, Castiel couldn't stop the small, dark smile that came to his face.
"Yes," he replied, with conviction, without hesitation, and Dean shivered, his feathers bristling with arousal, his breath hitching and his eyes flashing, just for a moment, to that opaque filter again. Castiel stepped back, allowing room between them so that he could fumble at the button and zip of Dean's jeans, Dean's hands joining his in their hurry to get them off. Dean wasn't wearing any underwear so with the jeans off he was naked and bare for Castiel's inspection.
Castiel's eyes roved hungrily over the young creature's body. Christ, but Dean was beautiful. His legs were slightly paler than the rest of him, not as tanned by the sun, but still darker than Castiel's own skin. He was smooth and flawless, muscle sliding fluidly under his skin, every part of him perfect. Castiel wanted to fall to his knees and taste, and touch, every single part of the demon.
He didn't know how long he was staring for, but Dean blushed a little, biting his bitten-red lower lip, his wings shifting slightly and then moving to cover his body. Castiel reached out and stopped them before they could hide a single inch.
"Don't you dare," he growled, and Dean shivered, his eyes closing for a moment, his head dipping as he bared his throat, and his wings immediately flattened to his sides, baring himself for Castiel's hungry gaze, and Castiel easily slotted his body alongside Dean's after stepping out of his sleep pants, able to feel naked skin against naked skin. They were both slicked and overheated with drying sweat and come, sticky with Dean's oil that still lingered on Castiel's hands and arms, but he didn't care, and apparently neither did Dean, with how welcoming he was towards Castiel's touches, when the man ran his hands teasingly under Dean's wings again, intent on finding those oil glands and coaxing more of the fluid out of them.
He made another surprised sound, muffling it against Dean's sweaty neck when he gently dug his fingers into the soft down at the base of Dean's wings. "Dean," he whispered breathlessly, "you're dripping."
Dean blushed more darkly, his wings spreading out more for Castiel's touch. Tentatively, his hands shaking with nerves and arousal, he reached behind him and took one of Castiel's hands, slowly dragging it down so that the man's fingers curved between his legs, pressing against his – Castiel stifled another small groan – leaking hole.
"For you, Alpha," the demon purred back, rocking his hips down against Castiel's finger, encouraging the man to penetrate him, to press inside of him in a way no one ever had. To take his virginity and lay an irreversible, unquestionable claim on him. Dean bit his lip, nuzzling against Castiel's cheek. "Please."
Just like that, Castiel was blindingly, achingly hard again. He hadn't had a recovery time like this since he was a teenager. Dean was going to kill him.
Castiel inhaled another intoxicating lungful of Dean's scent, closing his eyes as he pressed closer to the demon, pinning him against the wall with his body, and pressed gently against Dean's hole with one finger. The ring of muscle gave way easily and Castiel was startled by just how wet Dean was on the inside, the demon producing natural lubricants in response to his arousal.
Dean groaned, his knees almost buckling, and he grasped onto Castiel desperately to keep himself upright, his wings shuddering and splaying out far on either side of him, tilted away to grant his mate access to his oil glands, as much as he wanted. It felt so good, so good and Castiel had hardly touched him – Dean's body burned with the desire to mate, the need to satisfy his mate and Alpha and make them happy and keep them satisfied. Need unlike he'd ever experienced before meeting Castiel unwound in him like a great serpent, rearing its head in the pit of his gut and sinking its teeth into him and refusing to let go – the pleasure was so sharp, so red-hot, it was damn near painful.
His nails dug into Castiel's back, needing purchase and his overslick palms just weren't giving it to him. The man growled at the harsh treatment, forcing his fingers further inside of Dean as punishment and the creature howled, thrashing, begging – words he didn't even think were human spilled out of his mouth, begging for something, anything, More Alpha, please Alpha, anything you want…
Castiel soothed one hand down Dean's flank, trying to calm the creature down. He murmured soothing little phrases into Dean's ear, stroking through his hair, over his skin, his second finger pushing into Dean and beginning to scissor to stretch him out. Dean whimpered, burying his face in Castiel's neck and Castiel just pushed a third finger in, wanting to stretch Dean out as much as he could so that it wouldn't hurt so badly.
"Please, Alpha," Dean begged, his wings sagging with his need, shoulders shaking. He pressed his tightly clenched fists against Castiel's back, hooking one leg around the man's leg to draw him closer. "Please, Cas, fuck me. I need you to fuck me."
The human groaned, his already paper-thin control shattering in the wake of Dean's broken, desperate moans, and he removed his fingers from Dean, shushing him gently when the creature whimpered and bucked his hips to try and follow, and he took Dean's thigh, forcing the creature to wrap both legs around his waist. Dean weighed less than Castiel had thought he would, or perhaps it was the wings keeping him semi-airborne, but either way Dean easily allowed himself to pinned to the wall, holding on for dear life while Castiel's weight held him there.
Castiel nudged gently at Dean's jaw, forcing the demon to lift his head from his neck, and Dean blinked down at him, his head slightly higher than Castiel's because of their position. His eyes were darker than Castiel had ever seen them – shining a brilliant black that caught the light and reflected Castiel's own face back at him like a mirror. There were tears shining in the corners of his eyes and his face was wet, and Castiel frowned in concern.
"Are you alright?" he asked, worried that he was pushing too far, or too fast, or had hurt Dean somewhere along the road.
The demon groaned, and even though Castiel couldn't technically tell, he knew Dean was rolling his eyes. "God, yes, just fuck me, Cas," he replied, snappy enough that Castiel had to smile, and then he surged up, pressing his mouth to Dean's eager, pliant lips at the same time he began to push into the demon, slamming as deep as he could in one smooth thrust.
Fuck, but Dean was wet. And tight. Castiel moaned softly into Dean's mouth, his hands gripping bruisingly tight on the creature's thighs, and Dean whined into the kiss, his mouth going all slack and pliant in response to the satisfaction of having Castiel inside of him. He felt like he'd been waiting all his life for this one moment.
Slowly, unable to help himself, Castiel rocked back, then forward into Dean again, trying to get that little bit deeper. The angle was bad for deep thrusts but that was probably for the better, considering Dean's inexperience and their hasty prep. Still, it was fucking amazing, and got even better when Dean curved his beautiful, soft, warm wings around the both of them, cocooning them in downy softness while Castiel rocked into Dean. He let one of Dean's legs drop in favor of fisting the creature's erection, which made Dean's inner muscles spasm almost uncomfortably tightly around Castiel.
The human groaned again, knowing that, just like the last time, he wouldn't last. "Fuck, Dean, so gorgeous," he growled, breaking the kiss to get some air into his starved lungs and thrusting deeper into the demon, pressing as close as he could possibly get. Dean gasped when Castiel's hand tightened, his body trembling, cheeks and chest flushed a beautiful shade of red, entire body slick with sweat. "My gorgeous boy," Castiel continued, not even sure what he was saying, just knowing that he had to say it. "Such a good boy, and all mine."
Dean whined, throwing his head back against the wall, and let out another high, rough sound when Castiel nuzzled against his bared throat and bit down, sucking on the skin hard enough that he knew there would be a dark claiming mark there for days afterwards, and Dean came with a shudder, spilling all over Castiel's hand and his own stomach, his body convulsing with the shockwaves of pleasure and clamping down so suffocatingly tightly on Castiel that, for a moment, the man had to still, feeling like he couldn't move.
His eyes were wide, watching Dean's face as he came and cataloguing the nuances in Dean's blissed out expression. It was, hands down, the best sight he'd ever seen – nothing would ever compare to Dean, lost in the throes of his orgasm, so deliciously fucked out and pliant and so unbelievably beautiful.
"Mine," Castiel snarled again, possessiveness and lust flaring up in him once again, and Dean's eyes snapped open, green once more, and he whined again when Castiel's cock thrust deeper inside of him, his body clenching around it as he stroked against a spot inside that felt so damn good, like if Castiel was touching his wings.
Then, suddenly, Castiel withdrew, still hard, his cock flushed red and leaking precome steadily. "Alpha?" Dean asked, unsure what Castiel wanted of him.
"On your knees," Castiel demanded, his eyes lust-black, his voice low and dark, and Dean shivered, sinking to his knees gracefully – if his Alpha wanted to finish in his mouth, then hell, he was alright with that. Castiel, though, shook his head. "Turn around. Hands against the wall." Dean obeyed. "Spread your wings."
Dean trembled, realizing what Castiel was going to do, and his head hung between his shaking arms, kneeling down and splaying out his body for his Alpha – he spread his knees, getting low to the ground, his back forming one graceful, curving arch, his hands splayed wide against the cream colored wall that now reeked of his own oil and had a dark stain on it.
He heard Castiel muffle a curse behind him, and then Dean closed his eyes as he felt warm come hit his back. Castiel jerked himself through his orgasm, painting Dean's back with his come. He left a stripe of it at the small of Dean's back where there was just the slightest divot, and painted up Dean's spine, and finished in his wings, adding his own splash of color to the bright patches of it.
The demon mewled softly, feeling the warm wetness combine with the oils in his wings, and his eyes flared open, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. The man had fallen to his knees between Dean's legs and was leaning over him, panting hard. As he watched, Castiel pressed a soft kiss to Dean's spine, then his warm, long fingers spread out into Dean's wings, massaging his come into them and Dean knew he would smell like Castiel for days. Weeks, maybe.
Dean shifted slightly, his knees starting to ache on the hardwood floor, and Castiel moaned softly, closing his eyes when he felt Dean's slick ass and thighs rub against his spent cock, which twitched valiantly in an attempt to rise again. He held Dean's hips to keep him still.
"Not yet," he growled, making Dean shiver and whimper again, his wings flattening to the ground in submission. Castiel's warm breath ruffled the soft down on his right wing every time he exhaled and, unbelievably, Dean felt himself start to harden again. He groaned, hanging his head, and pushed back against Castiel's hips, knowing he wouldn't be sated until he could feel his Alpha's seed inside of him, filling him up and completing him. That need overrode Castiel's orders for stillness and Dean couldn't help himself.
The man chuckled, shaking his head. "Insatiable," he murmured, before Dean groaned, feeling three fingers slip back inside of his loose, wet hole. Then, he felt Castiel's lips and teeth against his sensitive spine, dragging across the dip in his spine and he even began to mouth and nip at the soft, downy base of Dean's wings. "You want another round?" he asked. "So soon?"
Dean mewled, pressing back again. "Sorry, Alpha," he whispered, flattening his wings once more, not wanting to anger or inconvenience the man.
Castiel laughed, crooking his fingers perfectly, and Dean tightened up with a high pitched whine at the sharp stab of pleasure that shot through him when the man touched his prostate. "No need to apologize, Dean," he said, lifting his head. His other hand came forward, Castiel plastering his body along Dean's back, and forced the demon's head to turn, Dean planting his hands on the floor to keep his balance. "My pretty boy," Castiel growled again, nipping at the corner of Dean's mouth but denying him when Dean turned his head for a kiss. He struck Dean's prostate again, making the creature arch wantonly, his feathers bristling up in rekindled arousal. "You're gonna keep me up all day, aren't ya?"
Dean smiled, hearing and recognizing the teasing tone. He was glad his Alpha had accepted his mating offer, knew he was safe as long as Castiel was around, and would do anything for him, anything to keep him happy.
With that knowledge, he purred, stretching out his wings, and pressed back deliberately onto Castiel's fingers. "And all night," he said teasingly, "if you think you can keep up."
Castiel barked out a laugh, grinning at Dean's taunt and eagerly stepping up to the plate. "Careful fledgling," he said teasingly, making Dean shiver when Castiel's dark voice rasped in his ear. He closed his eyes, biting his lower lip in a soft moan when Castiel began to work another finger inside of him, stretching him and making him feel impossibly full. When Castiel was hard again, he sank home into Dean's tight, welcoming body, groaning, bent over the demon's back, his hands on his hips, in his wings – it didn't even matter, so long as he was touching his new mate.
They kept at it well into the night, and in the small hours of the morning Castiel pulled out for a final time, then spent the next few hours bathing and thoroughly grooming his tired, fucked-out and very ruffled mate.
When Gabriel and Sam returned a few days later, they were suitably scandalized, but after the week had passed and things had calmed down, Castiel sheepishly thanked his older brother for getting him the time off work, because he and Dean had put it to good use, and honestly Castiel wasn't sure how he was going to make it eight hours a day without Dean's hands or his mouth or, hell, just his company.
Maybe he'd ask Adler if he could bring Dean with him every day. Then he thought about the potential repercussion of bringing a lust demon into a crowded office full of mostly single men, and decided against it. Dean was very decidedly his, and as long as Castiel had anything to say about it, that would always be a fact.