A/N: Last Halloween I wrote a fic called "What's In A Name?" in which Dean goes to a Masquerade event, meets an 'angel', and dancefloor shenanigans ensue. And then it turns into bdsm :S There was a lot of stuff I left out of that fic though, because I thought it was too dark for something that started out pretty cracky. So it all went in this one. But it's all pretty optional to the plot (what little there is), so you can skip over it if you want to. And it's not strictly necessary to read the first fic in order to understand this one.
Warnings: This fic contains bdsm. That means bondage, spanking, whipping, flogging, toys, etc. But there's also dub-con, bottom!Dean, Dean!whump, public!sex etc... which may contain TRIGGERS for survivors of sexual abuse. Although the sexual consent issues are labeled as dubious, there is some very closely related violence that ultimately crosses the line into actual abuse. And as a work of erotic fiction, it's not always an accurate portrayal of the lifestyles, practices, or trauma recovery depicted herein, but is instead inspired by established tropes from the genre. And I don't mean 50 Shades. Because I haven't read it :s
Romeo: Is love a tender thing? it is too rough,
Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn.
Mercutio: If love be rough with you, be rough with love;
Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.
- Romeo & Juliet, Act I scene v
To control is to have power. Dean knows this. It's why he's played the game of Master and Slave, Dominant and Submissive, Masochist and Sadist, over and over, since the day he learnt that lesson, the hard way.
But to own is not as easy. Ownership comes with strings. Responsibility. A care and devotion to that which is owned, all on it's own. The ultimate consequence of holding complete trust, obedience, and adoration in your very hands.
Dean didn't know this until now. Because until now he's never played Master to any one person for so long before. Has never dared or even wanted to play that role for longer than a night, until now. And now it is no longer a game. It is… everything.
He is already consumed by it, as soon as Castiel steps through his door. Dean can tell the other man is upset, run down and tired, and that he doesn't want to talk about it. He just wants to forget for a while. And Dean can do that for him. Hell, he could make Cas forget his own name if he wanted to.
And he kind of wants to. Kind of wants Cas to forget about everyone and everything until all he knows is Dean. Only Dean.
Maybe he will. If that's what Cas needs.
As he begins to peel away the layers of Castiel's clothes he can already sense the weariness leaching out of the other man's bones, and he can barely contain himself, his fingers burning with the need to touch Castiel's skin - to mark him, and claim him, to tease and stroke and scratch him until Castiel is nothing but a mindless, whimpering, beautiful mess.
But this transformation takes patience. This process of unmaking Castiel the man, and remaking his angel, his perfect pet, takes time, and work. But it's a process they're familiar with now. Almost routine, they'd done it so many times. So by the time the last layer of Castiel's clothes come off, they're both already dripping hard.
"Gimme a kiss Hello." Dean says, pitching his voice lower. It's not a request, and he can tell Castiel understands this from the way his blue eyes flare in arousal, before he immediately complies. But what Castiel doesn't know, is that the command is as much for Dean as it is to signal the beginning of the game, needing the small intimacy before he has to take control again.
Dean hums into the kiss, savouring the closeness, reaching up to stroke Castiel's face and holding him there for a little bit longer then he should, but he can't help himself. And then when he finally tries to pull away Cas doesn't let him go either, closing his teeth around Dean's tongue behind the stud piercing there and trapping it in his mouth. With a groan Dean dives back into this kiss, deep and dirty, sucking and biting on Cas' lush lips with an almost savage fervour until he tastes Castiel's blood in his mouth.
When Dean finally has to break away for air he rips his lips away with a snarl, grabbing onto Castiel's arm and yanking the other man towards the living room. "On your knees." he orders, and Cas immediately sinks to the ground, knees spread far from each other and hands behind his head, displaying himself for Dean.
Dean takes a deep breath as he begins circling Castiel's kneeling form, considering a plan of action, and Castiel knows to keep his eyes lowered as Dean does so. 'Good' Dean wants to murmur in approval. 'Beautiful' Dean wants to tell him. But it's not time for these things yet.
Instead Dean opens a drawer under the coffee table, and pulls a coil of hemp rope from its depths. He can see the tremor of excitement that runs through Castiel's body as the smell of it hits the air, the shiver that ripples across the tattooed wings on his back, and as Dean kneels down beside him, he can't help but smooth a hand down Cas' spine, as if soothing a skittish bird. Castiel keens and arches against the touch, almost like he wants to lift off, and that just makes Dean want to tie him down even more, to see the way those ropes look around those pretty, pretty wings.
Dean reaches up to draw Castiel's arms down behind his back. "Keep them there." he orders, even though he knows Castiel wouldn't have moved them anyway. But it's part of the process, establishing obedience to commands. And with every knot and coil around Cas' body the ritual is cast, so when Dean is finished, Castiel is completely ready to serve.
By the time Dean sits back on the couch Cas is panting with anticipation, and Dean smirks a little at that as he slouches down, widening the part of his legs. "Come over here." he says, and Castiel immediately begins to knee his way over, situating himself at the foot of the couch between Dean's legs. "Now undress me. Quick." he adds, even though he knows it will be slow while Castiel only has the use of his mouth. But it's all part of the game, creating a sense of urgency even though he's going to enjoy the slow tease.
Castiel has gotten good at it though. He knows now to start at the top and work his way down, beginning with the button at Dean's collar, using his teeth and tongue to pry the plastic from the material. He also knows just how to push Dean's other buttons as well, using his nose to nuzzle at Dean's chest, and his breath to brush over the parts of skin he 'accidentally' licks. Dean hums in approval, threading his fingers through Castiel's hair and slowly stroking through it as Cas works. And once Dean's shirt is undone, Castiel doesn't stop, working the button of Dean's jeans loose, then taking the zipper in his teeth and pulling it down.
Dean's erection practically bobs free, tenting the material of his briefs, and Castiel presses his cheek to it, rubbing against it in supplication. "Please." Castiel moans, begging for it the only way he is allowed.
Dean raises his hips, pushing his jeans down his legs, and Castiel uses his teeth to tug on the waist of the briefs, helping as Dean slides those down as well. Then Dean's cock is finally free, and with one word, Castiel is allowed to put his lips all over it:
What a mouth Castiel has. And there are things he does with his tongue that Dean hadn't even known were possible. And maybe Dean says these things, babbling incoherent encouragement as he tries not to thrust too hard into that amazing, wet suction. He doesn't really care at this point. Doesn't really have to. Castiel's learned to take care of him so good he can afford to let go a little bit. And he can trust that by now, Castiel's also learned how to tell just when he's about to come, and will pull away, waiting to be told what to do with it.
Today Dean wants to see it.
"Open." he gasps out, and Castiel opens his mouth wide, waiting for Dean to jack himself into it as he rubs his tip against the end of Cas' outstretched tongue.
He comes pretty hard. And there's a lot of it, dribbling across Castiel's cheek where he misses and spilling down Cas' chin where it overflows. As he catches his breath he wipes at it with his thumb, then smears it across Cas' pink mouth, watching Castiel lick it off, until he finally pushes his thumb inside to be sucked clean. He does it again, and again, until every drop is gone from Castiel's face. And then Cas smiles up at him from where he's resting his head on Dean's thigh, adoring and content, and not for the first time Dean wonders how the hell he got so lucky.
But by now Cas is also fidgeting in discomfort, still hard and almost desperate for relief, though he knows better than to seek friction where he can. And this time Dean does praise him, because he's worked for it, and earned it.
"Good." he murmurs, stroking through Castiel's hair again, "Perfect." he reaffirms, and Castiel smiles even brighter, glowing from the praise.
Dean smiles back at him as he reaches over to the coffee table again, pulling out his next toy. Cas' eyes flare when he sees it, and he practically bounces on his heels in excitement as Dean displays it for him. "Bend over, angel-face." Dean murmurs lowly, and Castiel immediately knees himself away, giving himself enough space to turn to the side, locking his eyes on Dean as he slowly leans over, all the way down, until the side of his face meets the floor. It should be a difficult manoeuvre, arms bound behind his back the way they are, but the kind of control Castiel has over his body turns the whole thing into some kind of slow, erotic display.
Dean hums appreciatively as he slides off the couch, sinking to his knees behind the other man. He flicks the vibrator on for a second, testing the batteries, and Castiel moans at the sound of it, thrusting his hips out in silent entreaty.
Dean smacks his palm down against Castiel's ass. "Be still." he orders, and Castiel lets out a pitiful mewl, but quickly stills his hips.
"Dean..." he whimpers.
Dean leans over, pressing a kiss to the already reddening handmark on Castiel's backside before shushing him softly, lips against the swelling skin. "Hush." he croons, "I'm gonna give you what you need, Cas, you know I will."
"Dean…" Castiel moans again, one of the few words he's allowed to speak, and yet somehow managing to convey a million things in the way he says it. Somehow managing to do a million things to Dean when he does.
Dean presses another soft kiss to the curve of Castiel's rear, before he pulls away to slick his fingers up with lube, reaching down to start stretching Castiel out. And now when Castiel moans his name, it's meaning is singular, stripped away of everything but the need for more.
But the man remains obediently still. And the only sign of how difficult that is, is the clench of his hands, and the slight stretch of rope where his arms strain at his bindings, only allowing himself tension where he knows there is resistance.
Finally Dean slides the slick plastic in, carefully pushing back and forth until it's seated as far as it can go. Castiel's breathing is harsh as he tries not to squirm around it, tries not to adjust himself so it presses just where he needs it. But when Dean turns it on, the stimulation is enough to draw a sharp cry from Castiel's lips.
"Yeah, that's it. Let me hear you." Dean encourages. Slowly thrusting the plastic in and out, he changes the center of it's vibrations with the movement, switching the strength of stimulation from the rim of Castiel's entrance, to the depths of his inner walls, drawing out more of those throaty gasps and groans he loves to hear. The wrecked sound of Castiel's voice, when he can't even form the few words he's allowed anymore, drives Dean crazy, and it isn't long before Dean's hard again.
"Cas." Dean grits out, turning the vibrator off to command Castiel's attention, and before the dismayed whimper that issues forth from Cas' throat even ends Dean spanks him on the ass, compelling him to be still, and silent. It takes a few seconds for Castiel to quiet himself, and Dean waits patiently until his moans are nothing more than harsh breaths, gasped into the carpet.
"Do you want to come?"
"Then I can either turn this on again," he says, wiggling the vibrator until Cas sobs from the stimulation. "Or you can come with me inside you." he says, smearing the wet tip of his erection across the back of Castiel's thigh.
Castiel shivers, groaning with need at the touch. "Oh God Dean, Yes! Please!"
"What was that? You want the vibrator?"
"You want my cock."
And Dean knew that's what Castiel would say. He shouldn't even have given Cas the choice to begin with. Cas would've gotten what he needed either way. He just wanted to hear Castiel choose him.
Dean yanks the vibrator out, and before Cas even readjusts, Dean is slicked up, pushing the head of his cock past the rim of Castiel's hole.
Castiel chokes off in surprise, holding his breath as he freezes, waiting to see what Dean will do. Dean grins, holding himself there for a long moment, dragging it out until he's sure Castiel is about to scream in frustration, and then Dean slams home, angling himself with a precision that finally does make Castiel scream.
And what screams they are. Desperate, needy, agonized things, wrenched from Castiel's throat as Dean both gives and takes exactly what they both need.
His pace is merciless, his hips smacking against the skin of Castiel's rear as sharply as if he'd been using his hands, creating perfect ripples across that smooth, soft flesh. And when Castiel's skin becomes too sweat-slick to hold on to, Dean grabs onto the bindings around Cas' torso, using them as reins to pull himself all that deeper, harder.
It doesn't take long before he knows Cas is ready to go off, having waited that much longer, stimulated and teased to his limits. "Come on Cas, let it go." Dean grits out, not easing up his thrusts. And Castiel's cries choke off with a sob, his entire body locking up as he spurts out his release, from the force of Dean's cock alone.
Cas' entire body deflates afterwards, but Dean still doesn't ease up, fucking into his limp form from behind with Cas' face still pressed into the carpet. And Cas just takes it and takes it, mewling Dean's name until Dean is blowing his load again, marking Cas up inside with a strangled sob of his own.
His entire body shakes after that, the need to collapse into a heap beside Castiel overwhelming. But Cas is also shaking, trembling with the effort to remain upright, and Dean needs to take care of him first. He takes a few deep breaths to gather his strength, presses a kiss to Castiel's skin where he's dropped over the other man's back, and then lifts himself up, pulling himself out as carefully as he can.
Castiel still can't help but shudder at the withdrawal though, can't help but hiss a little as he begins to leak come, all the way down his leg. And Dean can't help but reach down, sliding his fingers up through it until he can push it all back inside. Another quick rummage through the drawer, and Dean is plugging Cas up, keeping it all in there, and also keeping him stretched until they're ready to go again. Then finally Dean releases Cas' bindings and lifts him off the floor, massaging the blood back into Cas' arms from behind while pressing soft kisses across his shoulders and into his neck.
Castiel is completely pliant in his arms, leaning back against his chest and humming in pleasure at his kisses, neck arching in synchronous movements against his lips. When they've both caught their breath and stopped shaking, Dean helps the other man stand up, but doesn't remove his arms or his lips, directing Castiel's steps to the bedroom from behind without the need to see or speak. And it's not until they reach Dean's bed, that they let themselves collapse, tangled together on the sheets.
Castiel's eyelids droop dangerously low as they trade lazy kisses, his face relaxing into a soft, sated smile, so Dean can tell Cas is about to drift off - but that's not what Dean wants just yet. So even though their kisses are slow and languid, Dean makes sure to press his lips to all the places Cas likes, keeping the other man just on the edge of awareness, but not stimulating him too much. Cas deserves a bit of a rest after all.
And besides, Dean has grown to love these long, unhurried recovery sessions – their frames moulded against each other, Cas practically melting in his arms, all pliant and trusting, his expression open and content as he gazes at Dean with those big blue eyes of his... No, Dean definitely doesn't want Castiel to fall asleep just yet. Not by a longshot.
And it's a good thing he's actually enjoying this, otherwise he wouldn't be so patient about it. But because he is, Dean lets Cas decide when he's ready again, waiting until Castiel has recovered enough that his body begins to respond to Dean's touch again, coming alive under Dean's light, but persistent ministrations.
When Cas begins to moan through his kisses, trying to rock himself against Dean in need of friction, but at the same time having the presence of mind to try and hold back in case he isn't allowed, Dean knows it's time for the next round. Grinning against Castiel's lips, he uses his weight to roll the other man over onto his back, pinning Cas beneath him as he raises himself up to a straddling position. Then wordlessly he takes Castiel's wrists and raises them, fastening them in the cuffs that permanently hang from the top bar of his bedhead.
Cas watches his every movement like a hawk, his blue eyes turning almost black with desire as his breath begins to quicken with anticipation again. Dean can barely look away, so it's mostly by feel and experience that he manages to open his bedside drawer and pull out the things he wants. Then Dean is reclaiming Castiel's lips, kissing him deep and long, before nudging Cas' face to the side with his nose and nuzzling into the skin of the other man's neck again.
Dean licks and kisses and bites his way downwards until his mouth finds the pebbled peak of a nipple, closing around it with a hard suck, and he curls his tongue around it to tease it with his stud while he uses his teeth to nibble it. And when it's wet and red and hard, Dean pulls off to pinch it with his fingers, twisting and squeezing it until Castiel's gasps are equal parts pleasure and pain, before Dean clips the nipple clamp down.
Castiel's gasps are mostly pain then, until Dean's mouth finds it's way to his other nipple, sucking and licking and teasing it as well. And usually when Dean bites down on it, tugging at Cas' nipple ring with his tongue-stud at the same time, the treatment is borderline painful, but with the other nipple already clamped it becomes a pleasure that distracts from the greater pain.
But Castiel's tolerance has increased during their time together. So now, instead of fastening the clamp to Cas' ring, if Dean can position the piercing the right way he can clamp the nipple itself. And even though it's much more painful that way, Cas has learned exactly how he can and cannot move to manage the sensation.
Cas has come a long way during their time together. And Dean has learned much about what the man can take. So even though there's one last attachment on the chain – the silver cock ring – Dean doesn't use it. He knows by now Cas doesn't have any trouble staying hard. And if he did have any trouble, Dean would know how to remedy it straight away. So instead he ties the ring to the headbar as a kind of leash, providing tension to the pull of the nipple clamps on the opposite ends.
Once that's done Dean sits back on his haunches, admiring his handiwork with a satisfied grin as he watches Castiel squirm on the sheets, the cuffs at Cas' wrists rattling and the thin chains attached to his body shimmering as they stretch against his movements. Dean has his dick in his hand before he even knows it, thrusting into the hot friction of his fist as Castiel watches and whines in frustration.
"Spread." Dean commands, reaching for the lube with his free hand, and Cas immediately spreads his legs wider, lifting his hips a little to present his entrance, clenched around the plug there. Dean pulls it out, carefully, before he quickly lubes up his fingers, and pushes them right into that gaping, hungry hole. And Cas takes them so, so deep, allowing the entry with almost no resistance, even though the rest of his body is taught and tied up in pain. Goddamn, but Cas could take so much now.
Dean decides not to wrap Cas' balls up with the leather cuff. He knows Cas has developed a great deal of control over himself, but right now he kind of wants Cas to lose it - To come all over himself no matter how hard he tries not to, because he just can't fucking help himself. And maybe then Dean will spend some time punishing him for it, reminding him that he's only allowed to come when Dean says so. That only Dean has control over him.
Dean doesn't play fair though. He picks out the toy he knows affects Casiel the most, right where Cas is the most sensitive – a long black string of anal beads, small on one end, becoming progressively larger down the other end.
He starts with the thin end, pushing in the smallest bead easily, and Cas' eyes fly wide when he feels it, instantly knowing what it is. And even though the bead is smaller than the girth of one of Dean's fingers, Cas clenches around it anyway, as Dean's taught him to, so Dean can pull on the string and tease Cas' hole with the tension.
He does that with the next few beads, tugging on the string lightly after he's pushed one in, teasing and testing Cas, painstakingly slow. And then once Cas has a few beads inside him Dean starts to tease him by pulling them out again, then pushing them back in, over and over until Cas is gasping and shaking on the sheets.
Finally Dean gets to a bead large enough to provide a challenge, and Cas groans hard and loud as Dean oh-so-slowly pushes it in. But this time Dean stops with the teasing, pushing in the next larger bead straight away, and the next, until Cas is all filled up, stretched and writhing around them.
Cas is ready to blow, leaking all over his stomach and down his cock, his balls dark and tight between his trembling thighs. And then blow he does, almost as soon as Dean begins to pull the string back out, spurting and screaming as Dean yanks out the end of the smaller beads with vicious speed.
Cas is a mindless mess after that - chest heaving with ragged breaths, flushed and come-covered and gorgeous - and Dean feels something tighten in his chest as he smears his fingers over the spray on Castiel's stomach, waiting for Cas to come down. It always amazes him how Cas can do that, come from that kind of stimulation alone, without even having his cock touched. But for some reason, this time he feels inexplicably unsettled by it, almost like he's been cheated somehow, jealous that Cas came from a toy. And it makes no sense, but he's… angry.
"Did I say you could come?" Dean scowls, and Cas' eyes immediately snap to his face, apologetic. "Speak!" Dean barks.
"No, you didn't. I'm sorry, Dean." Castiel replies hurriedly. And this is the part where Dean is supposed to punish Cas some way, deprive him of the time to relish his relaxed post-orgasm state and turn his body into a livewire again, this time with pain instead of pleasure.
But he just can't do it. He's angry, and he needs.
Before he knows it, he's lubing himself up with Castiel's come, and pushing himself into Cas' slick, stretched-out, hole. Cas is so wet inside, and takes him so easily, that Dean starts thrusting almost straight away, hard and deep and aiming right for where Cas is feeling delicate. And Cas just gives him this look, full of surprised disbelief that Dean wants to do this to him again, so soon. But he doesn't use his safeword, so Dean doesn't stop or ease up. In fact, Dean's never heard Cas say the word "Leviathan" other than the time they'd established their words. And Dean's never been more grateful for it than he is now. Even though Cas is now watching him a little warily, sensing something is off.
Dean begins to thrust harder, pushing Cas' legs back even further, wider. "You make me crazy." he grits out, as if he owes Cas some kind of explanation, punctuating his words with ruthless thrusts. Castiel cries out, his eyes clenching shut at the near-brutal treatment, and this inflames Dean even further. "Look at me!" he snarls, and Castiel whimpers, slowly opening his eyes again. And even though Cas' face is twisted in pain from the rough use of his sensitized body, there's still concern in his eyes. Worry.
Dean grabs hold of Castiel's hips, raising them up even higher off the bed, curling Cas' body so far around himself he can see where Dean is thrusting into him. Cas is so open like this, so stretched from the beads before, that Dean can pull out all the way and slip right back in with every thrust. "You see that?" Dean growls. "Your ass belongs to me!"
Castiel watches where Dean slides in and out of him, groaning with Dean's every, long, thrust. But it's just not enough for Dean. "Say it." he hisses. Barely a whisper. Almost like he's afraid to give the order.
"Yours." Cas gasps amidst groans, "My ass is yours."
For some reason it doesn't give Dean the satisfaction he thought it would though. But for the life of him he can't think of what will. So he just starts thrusting faster, fucking out Cas' slick hole until the pleasure pressure is so good all he can think about is finding release.
And then he hears Cas still whispering "Yours," over and over again, and Dean looses it, throwing his head back with a primal scream as he comes, hard, shooting what seems like endless streams deep inside Castiel's body.
His vision is swimming when it's over, and he's sure his knees are about to give out, so it takes all the strength he has left to free Castiel from his restraints, aided by the familiarity of experience again, before he collapses into Cas' waiting arms.
When Dean comes to, he's still wrapped up in Castiel's arms, his face buried in Cas' neck with long fingers stroking slowly through his hair.
He doesn't want to move. Ever.
And there's something in that sentiment that makes it the first thing Dean does, pulling himself out of Castiel's embrace and rolling over onto his back.
Cas comes with him though, rolling on top of him and looking down at him with a soft smile. And it just wrecks Dean a little, that Cas can still look at him that way, after losing control like he had. He doesn't know why Cas hasn't just up and left already.
"You're amazing, you know that? What'd I ever do to deserve you." he whispers, searching Castiel's face for some kind of answer. Castiel doesn't say anything, just leans down to give him a soft, slow kiss.
Dean sighs when they pull apart, taking Castiel's hand off his chest and bringing it to his lips, kissing Cas' fingers in return. He feels the pads of Castiel's fingertips pressing back, tracing the shape of his mouth, but he continues kissing the slender digits, soft and reverent as he stares into Cas' eyes. He doesn't know how much time they loose that way, but eventually Cas' fingers return to his chest, caressing the star inked over his heart.
Cas has never asked Dean about his tattoo, even though Dean knows Cas is curious about it. And in a way Dean's grateful, because he's not sure if he's ready to explain it to the other man. He thinks that maybe he wants to. Maybe it's time to share that part of himself he's been keeping close to his chest for so long. But something keeps holding him back, and he doesn't know what it is.
Castiel is… perfect. He's everything Dean never actually thought he'd find. The other man had given himself over to Dean so thoroughly, letting Dean push limits and boundaries further than anyone else he'd ever been with, responding to Dean's control with such trust and abandon that at times Dean thinks the man really is some kind of heaven-sent angel, just for him.
And yet, for all his submissiveness, Cas constantly pushes at Dean's limits as well, taking Dean over the edge with him as Dean claims him over and over again, so many different ways. Lately it seems that no matter how tight he ties the man up, no matter what kind of cruel and sensual punishment he can devise to torture the man to completion, Dean feels like it's himself fighting against restraint, the edges of his control fraying and unravelling as the other man takes everything Dean has to offer, and more.
And that's the problem. The more Castiel can take, the more Dean is forced to give.
And now there's nothing left but the darkest, deepest, buried parts of his soul.
Castiel sighs, his blue eyes pained, but eternally patient. Dean knows the other man can tell his thoughts have gone somewhere he can't follow, and as if sensing the trigger, Cas removes his fingers from Dean's tattoo, reaching up to caress Dean's face instead.
Dean closes his eyes, letting the pads of Castiel's fingers brush against his features, tracing his jaw, down the bridge of his nose, across his lips, curling up his eyelashes… and Dean finds himself breathing easier, deeper, comforted by the familiar touch.
He already needs this so much. He wonders how he ever lived without it. Or if he could ever go back to living without it now.
And sometimes that scares the hell out of him, because he wonders what will happen when Cas finds out how weak he really is.