"Dean!" Castiel yelled from his room. His eyes were set on the sheet on his bed. It wasn't perfect. Anyone who knew Castiel Novak knew about his perfectionism. And the way the corners of the sheet looked made him flare his nostrils in anger. They were made in hurry, purposely twisted and turned as if to mock him.
He knew exactly who did it, and he did it on purpose. His name was Dean. Castiel acquired him from the slave market, and he was the only slave kept for more than a day. The others never suited him. The malnourished rarely interested him. He only stopped to look at the skinny ones, to see the fear overwhelming each of their senses. The strong, healthy ones were too pricy and too buffed for his taste. He usually left empty-handed from his visits. He only bought two female slaves, once. Their beauty proved to be their only quality as their other skills lacked any sense of promise. Castiel strongly believed that even a toddler could do better if he or she was placed in their shoes.
So he killed them. Slowly, painfully, taunting them, breaking their little, secluded minds. It was fun, and he took great pleasure in it. Feeling the blood splatter on his skin, the sound of their screams ringing in his ears, the way their disoriented bodies tried to crawl, with the remainder of their strength, to safety. It was arousing. He raped them both, pulling and gripping any part of their bodies he could touch. The pleasure he received from their screams made him orgasm even harder.
He had liked it. After that, though, Castiel was left slave-less, so he continued his search. Every single merchant had learned to avoid him, his blue piercing gaze making the slaves scream for mercy. His blood lust had conquered his normal thoughts. He searched for another distraction, but none of the soon-to-be-slaves managed to fit the file.
Dean, on the other hand, was a beauty. Castiel found him sitting in a cage in the middle of a slave auction. The bidding was loud and men and women threw their money, neither wanting to back off. Castiel found the sight amusing. He stopped to look at the crowd, enjoying the steam of anxiety that they left in the air. They were fools, fighting like animals over a slave.
And then, without thinking, he looked up, towards the slave in the box. His gaze lingered on that face, those piercing green eyes defiant and strong. He looked healthy, lean muscles showing on his abdomen and back. His dirty blonde hair, although filthy from the place he was in, maintained a little shine. Castiel thought that if that hair belonged to a woman, it would still bounce and shine no matter how many gallons of filth were poured in it.
He still lingered, staring at those red, plump lips teasing him. He saw the slave shift, directly meeting his eyes. Truthfully, Cas was surprised. The slave didn't flinch, or signal in any way that he was ashamed by the leering. He kept looking at Castiel, his eyes void of emotion.
Castiel was amazed. No slave had the guts to look directly at a potential buyer; they all cowered and screamed, or took small glances when they thought he wasn't looking. It was confusing, to put it mildly.
The man stopped staring at him when he heard the crowd stop their shouting. He looked in the middle, at the last person who had placed a bid. It was an enormous sum, enough to sustain a man living a normal life without ever even thinking about poverty
Castiel saw the slave flinch when he saw his new master, who appeared to be in his mid-fifties with a face full of wrinkles. Castiel snorted. The man was probably a human. No demon, or any other self-respecting creature, would choose to wear such an old, tattered body. He was overweight, with a growing belly that was barely covered by his dress shirt. Judging by his position and confident smirk, Castiel was sure that if the slave belonged to this man, he wouldn't face anything related to housekeeping. Despite his stoic appearance, he shivered. He thought about the slave on his knees, pleasing the fat monstrosity. He wanted to gag. Even the mental image disgusted him.
Castiel didn't want the slob to get that slave. He was too much for him, and Cas wanted him for himself. Cas was determined to have him, no matter what the price.
Even if he wasn't in the biding range. He raised his hand and yelled a sum much higher than all the others combined. The other bidders raised their head in shock after they heard the bid. The slob turned to look at him when he heard the price. Surely he didn't have enough to top that. And he wanted that slave. Angry, he threw his hat on the ground and stomped on it, before he turned and left the hall in a hurry.
People started to file out of the room, seeing that there was no more for them, what with that slave being the last for the day.
Castiel looked at his slave in the now vacant space. He found the other looking at him, shocked. Even he, with his little knowledge for this type of things, realized the extent of the matter. The price was over the top, enormous, not even getting close to the proper proportion.
Cas paid the man next to the cage. He looked older, probably in his late forties. His features resembled the ones of the slave. Castiel deduced that the man was the slave's father, who turned his son in for a bit of cash. Cas felt disgusted. He handed over the money, seeing the man actually jump for joy. Castiel rolled his eyes at the man's behavior.
He was given the key to the cage. He waited until he was alone with the slave.
"What's your name?" Castiel asked, curious to hear his voice.
"Dean," a strong, sultry voice replied. Castiel looked at the man, and found that the name suited him.
"Dean..." he repeated the name, the sound dripping from his tongue with ease. He liked the name. "I'm Castiel, your new master." Cas took the key and unlocked the cage door, giving a hand to the man.
Dean gingerly accepted his help. He was hauled out from the filthy container into a pair of strong arms, and though he fought to free himself, he was unable to do more than twist a little. His new 'master' had an iron grip. He felt the pressure rise as he continued to fight him.
"Relax," the man whispered into his ear, and Dean had a strange feeling creep over him. He needed to sleep. The slave knew something was up, and he didn't like his new master. Not at all.
He continued to struggle, but found himself unable to move more than a finger. He was still conscious, and thank God for that.
"What are you?" Dean managed to rasp out, feeling himself falling in a pit of darkness as his surroundings changed. He saw what looked like a bedroom until his eyes fluttered close from the induced sleep.
He felt himself being dropped on a bundle of bed sheets. Dean needed to sleep so he gladly embraced the cover that was placed over him.
The last thing he heard was Castiel say "A demon. Probably your worst nightmare," in his ear. His breath tickled his skin and that gesture was the last thing he remembered from that night. It was the night a demon saved him and the night a demon doomed him.
Castiel kept his initial promise . He was a lousy brat to Dean and he loved it . Seeing the man fight him amused and confused him at the same time . It was nice to play games him with but there were moments when he saw the real Dean . After a great day , Castiel would allow him to sit in the living room next to him and talk . They never had a specific topic , words flowing from their mouths without even trying .
He learned about Dean's family , about his little brother and abusive father . How he was the only one that kept Sam safe . How he fought for his brother , fought with his father just to see little Sammy have a better life than his . Dean was doomed from the moment their mother died .So he tried to at least give some hope to Sammy . When his dad turned him in as a slave his whole world shattered . He confessed to Castiel that he wished he could still protect his little brother , still keep the evil from corrupting him .Cas comforted him , left speechless at the man's loyalty towards his family . It was surprising to see something such as this in today's society . He embraced him and Dean gladly returned the hug . Castiel felt his shirt get soaked from silent tears but he never ushered a word to him , left him grief in silence .
They never spoke a word about that night . Castiel was back at poking Dean and mocking him , but some of his words sometimes got to the man .Sometimes Dean stilled , stopping some unknown urge from taking over .The he would sigh and continue what he was doing , from dusting a vase , to replacing a bed sheet .
Dean had many sides , some that Castiel never thought even existed . Who would think that a male human slave could sing so well ? Or cook such delicious meals ? Or dance so graciously when he thought Castiel wasn't looking ? Intriguing . That was probably the single , most accurate word that described Dean . Next to gorgeous , but Castiel kept that to himself .
Even thought he lusted over his slave , Castiel respected him and would never act on his desires without the man's consent.
Dean got his revenge for his master's hurtful words by pulling pranks on him . It was all fun & games . Or at least to Castiel they were . But he held one thing sacred .
Which brought him back to Dean's actions from this day . The man was grumpy and somehow , something got him upset as he didn't even grant Castiel 'good morning' as he normally did . He was silent as he helped the man do his usual routine . When Castiel returned , he saw his bed and how the sheets were placed and realized the slave's newest stunt . He was in a lot of trouble . Castiel's pickiness wasn't , as how Dean thought , about everything . He really didn't care about the rest of the house , as long as his bed was clean . And Dean , without knowing , broke that rule .
And he was going to pay for it .
"DEAN !" Castiel yelled at the top of his lungs . he was sure his scream reached even the darkest corners of the basement .
A figure clad in black stood in the doorway , his green eyes locked on Cas's flaming blue ones . "Yes ?" he said , questioning the exact reason for his 'master's' behavior . It wasn't beyond him to get angry , but this was a whole new level of madness , for Dean .
"What have you done to my bed ?!" Castiel yelled , a finger pointing at the messy looking bed . Dean didn't find anything wrong with it , until his eyes dropped to the corners . Oops , he inwardly groaned , that was really unintentional . He hurried over to the kitchen and forgot about Castiel's fetish with everything looking perfect .
"Sorry ?" He questioned , not feeling an ounce of sadness over the incident . It was an accident , and no matter how much Cas liked to think that Dean was doing this to get him mad , most of them were simple mistakes . He was a human , not a damn demon with a taste for perfectionism .
Dean entered the room , looking back at Castiel , the same emotionless gaze on his face . He didn't have time to think about this incident . He didn't care about his punishment . It wasn't below Castiel to beat him , seeing that the demon was stronger than him . He would take whatever would happen to him in stoic silence , just as always .
The demon calmed himself at his best ability, his blue eyes still holding the same fiery anger in them . Dean was still in danger . Castiel stepped closer to him , his posture changing to one than had a striking resemblance to a predator .
He pushed Dean into the wall. He was in front of him in a second. His hand found the back of his head and pulled at the short locks there, exposing his neck. Dean punched the man in the shoulder, trying to pry him off. As soon as his fist touched the area, he felt as if he punched a wall of concrete, not a man. He yelped in pain. His hand cracked at the punch, now probably broken. Dean dropped it to his side. It throbbed and he felt a few drops of blood drop to the ground. Shit, he would have to clean that as well, and blood stains were a bitch to clean. Plus he had to tend to his hand. He tried to move his left one but found that Castiel pushed it over his head, holding it there with his other hand.
Castiel looked at the man. He was defenseless and he knew it, but still tried to fight him. He was compromised from the first second he stepped inside his room, but Dean held a certain fighting spirit that Castiel had never seen before. It aroused him, knowing that the man wouldn't go down without a fight.
"Now, would you like to tell me what got you so bothered that you managed to make this mess?" Castiel growled, showing his fangs. Red eyes glared into green ones. Dean shifted a little, his eyes searching anything to look at besides the angry demon. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a suitable lie. Castiel realized soon enough what the human's game was and gripped his broken hand, squeezing it to bring the slave back from his thoughts.
Dean yelped in pain, feeling Castiel abuse his wounded hand. He tried to keep silent, not wanting to give him satisfaction. Castiel squeezed harder, feeling blood ooze out the wounds.
Dean screamed from the pain, and brought his eyes back to Cas's red ones. He looked down at his hand, seeing that black and purple marks were already showing.
"It's Sam's birthday" he whispered. "He's turning eighteen today."
If Castiel wasn't paying attention, he wouldn't have heard those words. He looked back at Dean and saw a small tear escape his eyes. He let go of his left hand and took his other hand out of his hair. He pushed his chin up, looking at his face.
Castiel couldn't exactly describe what he felt. There was a mixture of so many different emotions. The most obvious one was concern. He cared for the slaves feelings. Castiel couldn't exactly pinpoint what made Dean different from all the other slaves. Maybe the fact that he wasn't even supposed to be a slave, considering his spirit.
Castiel wiped Dean's tear away.
"Why is that a problem? Now he can leave your father," he said.
"His father," Dean corrected him, venom dripping in his voice, eyes glaring at the ground. Castiel eyebrows rose, surprised at how fast he said those words. Dean looked him dead in his eyes.
"I'm more concerned about what he already did to him," he continued.
Castiel let go of Dean and stepped away from him, in thought. He decided to help the slave, but he wanted something in return. He grinned, knowing exactly what he would ask.
"I'll find Sam and see what has happened to him,"
Dean dared to show a glitter of hope.
"But," Cas continued, "you have to do whatever I ask of you for a night, no questions asked. And no fighting." Castiel smirked, already planning how he would tease Dean.
Realization dawned upon the slave's face.
Dean was at a crossroads; use the demon's help and find Sam in exchange for one night, or say no and not know what had become of Sammy. He was perplexed, weighing each option in his mind.
Castiel saw the wheels turning in his mind and knew that, in the end, he would choose his brother over himself. Dean sighed.
"Fine, I'll do it." he said, looking in the demon's eyes.
Castiel smiled. His plan had worked. He walked out of the room, preparing for the easy task of finding Sam.
"I'll be back by dawn. Take care." Castiel waved and winked at him. Dean closed his eyes, groaning in defeat. When he opened his eyes, Castiel was nowhere to be seen.
"Stupid demon," Dean muttered, dropping onto the bed, messing up the sheets even more. He knew it was worth doing this, for Sam, but he couldn't help wondering what the demon planned to do to him.
Strangely , his hand was healed , no trace of what happened to it . Now that was a real mystery . Why would a demon heal a slave ? A human one , nevertheless .