Hi there!
Soooo this isn't my first SPN fic, but the first I wrote in english. So please be gentle!

Betad by the lovely deansamcas! Thank you so much!

Aaaaand this fic is dedicated to one of the craziest, insanest, most awsome person I know. She is great and also one of my best friends. This is my amend for my past never fullfilled promises about writing porn :)
Soooo this is for you my dear SupernaturalLifestyle!

And guys seriously! Check out her fic. Dean's new life! It's great! If you love angst, and porn and epic love and some more angst and porn, yeah! Then you HAVE to read her work!

Dean could barely contain the victorious grin he felt spreading across his face as Cas lunged at him, a feral growl escaping his throat.
Oh, yeah. That was just what he needed right now. You see, Dean was (at least in his mind) a very-very manly guy, all the rock and muscle cars with leather jackets, burgers and beers. But this didn't mean that he was against cuddling sometimes- at least not with Cas. Of course, Cas was sworn to secrecy under the penalty of death caused by a tea-spoon in the eye (and YES, it might be not the most intimidating thing to say and yeah, Cas pretty much laughed at him openly in the face, but it's still VERY painful), if he ever told Sam. Or, you know, just anybody.

But after days like this, a whole new (maybe, just maybe) not so manly side of him sneaked to the surface.

See, Dean is a fire fighter (MANLY as hell!), and a very good one. But after Bobby retired, he left Dean in charge, and that just added to the stress that had already built up within himself every day – saving people, and all that jazz. Now, he personally was responsible not just for the lives of civilians, but also for his men. Or women (and in case he forgot about them, he got remembered by all the teasing from Pam and Jo every day – really, they had to invite him to a girls-night?).

And just today, he almost lost one of his men. Victor – that stupid ass, his stupidity will be one of the reasons for the early decease of one Dean Winchester– went into the house and somehow forgot to come out. At the time Benny grabbed his sorry ass out Dean could swear he lost half of his remaining life, which given Dean's job wasn't that long in default. He wanted to charge in but Benny unceremoniously shoved him back and ran inside himself and got that stupid ass out just before the damn house collapsed.

So yeah. A little bit stressed. And what does a stressed Dean want? In a manly way of course. Getting fucked. Hard. Mercilessly.

The only problem is, that Cas – as awesome he is, and as much Dean loves him more than air and pie and Baby – is a pussy. Tender, loving, massage giving and hey, nothing's wrong with that, at least not in Dean's dictionary. But Cas loves to make love to Dean, not fuck his brains out. This still IS the best thing ever, but comes after getting his brains fucked out.

Cas is also just a guy. And after living together with somebody for five years, you learn all the weaknesses.
Cas only has one. It is called getting drunk. But not just drunk with some booze, but he needs to drink wine. Cas can hold his liquor but give him a glass of wine? He is gone for.

It's like living with two different people– when Dean told Sam about it, and after Sam bleached his brains of the mental images given by Dean, his giant of a little brother started to laugh at him, and told him something about this author, some chick named Kelly… no. Nelly? Right, Sally. The poor chick had five different personalities so Dean realised he was really lucky because he only has to deal with two. The second one can be kept under control, unless Dean wants to release it. Him. Whatever.

And tonight Dean wants to release the animal which is wine-drunken Cas. All the loving tenderness flies out of the window and takes a break for the rest of the night. Or day.

And given the dark pupils, the animalistic sounds and the feral grin, Dean has succeeded. Point for Team Wild Sex.

At this point Dean sincerely doubts that they will make it to the bedroom. Dean made sure of it. Getting Cas wine-drunk, and provoke him with just a few words was more than enough.

And holy shit, Cas is grabbing his shirt and pushing Dean against the counter. Hard. Almost hurts. But Dean welcomes the pain with every atom of his body, as it helps to leave the stress of responsibility behind. Give up control. That's what it is about.

- You little slut. – Cas growls and Dean's upstairs brain leaves the building, and probably goes after loving and tender Cas. – You want to play this game with me? You think you are all big and macho? I give you something big, just wait. Tell me, slut, can you take it?

- Y…yes. – at this point Dean's voice is barely more than a moan. This just seems to flare the fire in Cas. Dude's like fucking Rome at that big fire everybody accused to be Nero's doing. Lips hot on Dean's throat, licking, nibbling, biting. Hands roaming over Dean's crotch hard in his jeans – right to the point. No foreplay then. At least not too much. The biting still counts.

The next thing Dean is aware of is Cas spinning him so that Dean faces the counter and pressing him into it, bending him over. Their shirts are still on, but Dean has already reached to point of no return, as has Cas, so nobody cares.

Cas is tugging at Dean's jeans and slides them down to his knees, but no further.

- Stay like this! – Cas commands. Dean happily obeys. He can't really spread his legs, which makes him more tight. Hell yeah!

But then Cas is leaving, his body heat withdrawing and a chill runs down Dean's spine. The next moment Dean's hands are forced behind his back and another moment later his wrists are bound. Tight, with Cas's tie. Dean's already so hard, he just wants to come, to scream, to urge Cas, but there's no need for it. The next thing Dean knows, Cas is spreading his cheeks with one hand, and then he has two fingers up his ass, dry. No lube. It burns and hurts and Dean's despite this Dean only grows harder. Cas deliberately avoids his prostate and opens him up with hard, precise movements of his fingers.

Dean can't help it. He moans and whines like a bitch in heat (Okay, so maybe he isn't so manly but who cares? His brain has left the scene already, along with his dignity. Screw them anyway).

- You really love that, you little bitch, don't you? – Cas's voice is more like a cracked groan and all Dean can do is nod and whine some more. It still hurts.

– Tell me, you little cockslut. What do you want? You want to take it? Take it so hard and so deep that you can't move properly for days? You want everybody to see what I gave you next time you limp inside that precious workplace of yours? -

- C…Casssss… Please… I'm begging you, give it to me… - Yeah, no dignity. Just pure, senseless begging and raw pain. Take what you get. Dean feels the tears escape his eyes, and presses his face harder to the cold surface of the counter.

- What did you just call me, boy? Aren't you just a precious boy toy? Tell me Dean, who I am to you?

- S…sssssir! Sorry sir. Please give it to me, sir. 'm your little s…s…sluuuuaaaaaaahhhhhrrrrgh…

His last words blur into an uncontrollable moan as Cas adds two more fingers in one rough movement. Cas crooks his fingers inside him and Dean can't help the raw scream that escapes his mouth. Cas's dark laugh rings in his ears, as hot tears roll down his cheeks.

His breathing is ragged, uneven. Cas's hand leaves his ass-cheek and lands on the back of his neck, holding him down, as he pulls out his fingers. Dean lets out a little, needy whine at the loss which is quickly replaced with another long scream as Cas pushes his cock inside him. He is somehow lubricated, but not that much. Dean can't even remember or imagine when and how Cas did it, not that it matters.

What matters, though, is that Cas is pushing in, hard and merciless he bottoms, just to pull out with the same speed and roughness. Dean opens his mouth – to scream, to moan, but no sound comes out as Cas starts to pound into him in earnest. Quick, hard movements, but this time Cas is hitting his prostate every time he pushes, leaving Dean gaping soundlessly. Cas, of course, mutters under his breath, dirty endearments about Dean tightness, how slutty Dean is and how perfect a toy he is, only for Cas's pleasure.

Dean is only half aware that he is nodding obediently along and can feel his orgasm build up setting a painfully pleasurable fire in his whole body. He can see dark spots dancing behind his closed eyelids, and after two more thrusts he is coming, hard and perfect and finally he finds his voice, as he screams again but this time Cas's name on his tongue.

He barely has time to come down, his vision is still blurry, when he can feel the tie loosen on his wrists, and then Cas is dragging him up by his hair and spins him around, leaving Dean's head spinning. But Cas doesn't give him time to regain his breath, before he is pushed down unceremoniously onto his knees and Cas forces his lips open and shoves his still hard cock inside his mouth and face-fucks him with short, strong thrusts and such dominant authority that Dean is forced to take it. He braces himself against the counter, grabs Cas's tights and starts to suck.

- Aaaaaaaaahhh, yesss my little slut. You suck like a pro… - Cas growls and then thrusts inside Dean's mouth four more times and comes down his throat.

Not much later Dean is fresh showered and sated in the bed, wincing every time he moves, but smiling nevertheless. Cas is sound asleep next to him wine-drunk and satisfied arms wrapped securely possessively around Dean. Dean presses his nose to his lover's neck, inhales his scent, and kisses the warm skin he finds there. He knows that the next morning Cas will feel guilty and Dean has to convince him over again, that it was great. It was perfect. Then Cas will kiss him lovingly, caress him and will say 'sorry', not in words, but with every act, and will cuddle Dean's manliness to death.
Yeah. Cas can be a pussy. But he is everything Dean wants and has wanted for a long time. He is perfect.