A/N:This is the third installment to what I'm now calling the 'Halloween In Bondage' verse, which includes 'What's In A Name?' and 'All The Devils Are Here', but it's not strictly necessary to read those fics to understand this part. However, I wouldn't recommend reading this whole thing in one sitting. There's not a lot of plot and each chapter is a self-contained smutfest on its own ;p
Warnings: This fic contains BDSM. But it's still a work of fiction, meant purely to entertain, and may not always be an accurate portrayal of the lifestyles and practices depicted. So I freely admit that there might be some magical-healing-cock this time around. And while this installment is a lot fluffier than the last one, there are still some brief mentions of past abuse. Additional warnings for this chapter include mentions of switching, erectile dysfunction, tattoos, piercings, cock-slapping, fisting, toys, etc.
Full Pairing List: Dean/Castiel, Inias/Samandriel, Dean/Castiel/Inias, Dean/Castiel/Samandriel, foursome ;p
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;
When little fears grow great, great love grows there.
-Hamlet, Act III scene ii~
"Oh yeah, angel-face, you're doing that so good," Dean moans, eyes fluttering shut as his head lolls over the back of the couch.
The lights are on low, his stomach is well-fed, and his body is completely relaxed from an hour-long bath and massage. He's got his favourite porn on – the one with the guy strapped down to a bed while a priest "exorcizes" his demons – the volume just loud enough to hear the flogging sounds, without being too intrusive. And he's got his angel, kneeling on the floor between his legs, tonguing and sucking his nuts so sweetly, Dean wants to cry.
He couldn't be more relaxed. And yet…
"If I'm doing this so well, why isn't it working?" Castiel pulls back, frowning at the soft length of Dean's dick.
"I'm sorry, angel, you know I'm trying," he sighs, cupping Castiel's face with his hand and brushing his thumb over Cas' swollen, spit-wet lips.
"I know," Castiel grumbles. "This is the second priest video we've watched tonight. I'm starting to think I should buy a cassock, but I don't want to risk the added association with celibacy," he pouts, and Dean manages to huff a weak chuckle.
Castiel heaves a sigh, massaging his jaw a little before laying his head down on Dean's thigh, arms curling around Dean's leg. Dean echoes his sigh, massaging the back of Cas' neck as they silently watch the priest ride the possessed man's cock to completion.
"Is it me?" Castiel finally whispers, and Dean's chest constricts with guilt.
"No, angel, of course not," he rushes to re-assure.
"But, Dean, you haven't fucked me in weeks."
"What are you talking about? We have sex all the time," he says, playing dumb. Even though he knows exactly what Cas means.
"No," Castiel replies, turning around. "You make me come all the time, but you barely even get hard. What about your needs?"
"My needs?" he echoes. "Uh…" Dean swallows tightly, his throat suddenly going dry.
"Talk to me, Dean," Castiel hums, cradling his length and nuzzling into its soft flesh. "Tell me what you need."
Dean bites his lip, carding his fingers through Cas' unruly hair. "Do you… uh… do you want to try topping again?" he asks hesitantly.
"Dean, we tried that last weekend already. I don't want to do that again if you're not going to enjoy it," Cas replies.
"Hey, I enjoyed it!" he protests.
"You know what I mean, Dean," Cas says quietly, cutting through his bravado again, and Dean deflates.
"I don't need to be hard to enjoy feeling you inside me, Cas," he murmurs. "I know you understand what that's like."
"I do. But I don't want to risk it," Cas says firmly, fixing him with those big, blue eyes of his. There's a sadness in those eyes, and Dean knows Castiel is worried about triggering memories of his past with Alastair. But there's such a deep care that comes with that worry, such a strong devotion to his happiness, that goes far beyond the physical realm of pleasure. Dean smiles softly, melting under that gaze.
He is so in love with Castiel. Helplessly so. Otherwise he would never have let Cas take him on the rack, that first time at The Pit last year. Would never let Cas keep topping him, every now and then. And keep domming him, when he really, really needs it. Dean's been dom to a lot of people, but he's rarely ever subbed, and that in itself shows how much he loves Cas. But at the same time, he never feels Cas' love more than when Cas doms him.
It took a long time for Dean to be able to open himself up to that kind of love and care in return. And now, even that isn't enough. It doesn't seem fair. He doesn't know how much more he can ask of Castiel, and the last thing he wants to do is lose him. Dean knows that Cas loves him, and loves what they have together, but when that isn't enough anymore, will Cas still want to stick around? The very possibility that Cas might leave scares Dean so much, he ends up falling over himself doing everything possible to make Cas happy.
Unfortunately, he's so anxious all the time now, he can't even get it up anymore. It's like some cruel joke, or something. And he doesn't know how long he can keep Cas satisfied with their toys. Their many, many toys. But Cas has always preferred to feel Dean inside him, given the choice.
"I'm sorry, angel-face," Dean croons. "Things aren't great at the garage right now. I mean, we're doing okay with crash repairs, but we haven't had an actual restoration job in a while," he says, trying to explain it away.
Castiel leans on his thigh again, caressing his flanks in comforting circles. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much for you," he murmurs.
"You don't have to apologize, Cas," Dean replies. "Your promotion is a good thing. Especially now, with the way the garage is going," he huffs.
"Dean," Castiel frowns, climbing into his lap and cradling his face with his hands, forcing Dean to look him in the eye. "It's not just the garage though, is it? I sense that there's something else."
"I tell you what, Cas – Wear the priest costume, and maybe then I'll confess all my sins," he smirks, using humor to deflect Cas' concern again.
"Alright," Castiel replies seriously, not even a second of hesitation. "If that's what you want," he murmurs.
"I do," he grins, playfully nipping at Cas' lips. Castiel sighs resignedly, realizing the conversation is over, and slowly starts to return Dean's kisses.
"I suppose you'll want me to wear those satin panties underneath, am I correct?" Castiel huffs, put-upon, but there's a hint of smirk at his mouth when he says it.
"Mmm," Dean hums appreciatively at the thought. "Yes, Father."
Castiel groans, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean's neck and pulling him in for a real kiss, using teeth to tug and tease at his stud while sucking filthy on his tongue.
"Would you like to come now, angel?" Dean asks when they pull away for air.
"Yes, please, Dean," Castiel whimpers, tears of relief welling up in his eyes at the promise of release.
"Okay," Dean whispers, laying Castiel down on the couch, and on impact the tears fall down the sides of Cas' face. "Shhh," Dean hushes him gently, leaning down to press soothing kisses to Castiel's lips as he brushes the wetness away. Castiel whimpers again, letting his legs fall open as he squirms underneath Dean with need.
Pressing one last kiss to Cas' lips, Dean settles back on his haunches, spreading Castiel's thighs even further to watch the way he writhes and clenches around the vibrator in his hole. Even after hours of stimulation, Castiel is unfailingly hard, precome oozing so heavy, it sticks to everything it lands on, in thick tendrils from Castiel's slit. Dean smiles in awe, tracing the leather strap around Castiel's balls, keeping him from coming all this time.
"Please, Dean. Please," Castiel mewls at the touch, and because he begs so pretty, Dean unstraps him, massaging the circulation back into the flesh as Castiel sobs and gasps at the rush of blood.
"Get ready for it," Dean warns, picking up the remote extension. As he turns the vibrator up on high, a garbled and satisfying cry is wrung from Castiel's throat, that sounds a lot like Dean's name. With a pleased smirk Dean watches Castiel's blue eyes roll back in pleasure, neck stretching taut and hips thrusting and shaking as his hole flutters around the buzzing toy, so close the edge.
Dean reaches towards Castiel's cock, but doesn't take it in hand. Instead he flicks at the tip, sharply, and the sudden stimulation wrings another cry from Castiel's lips, such a contrast after hours untouched. And before Castiel even has a chance to catch his breath, Dean closes his fingers together and whips them against Cas' neglected cock – once – twice – Castiel's dick bobbing against his stomach with each impact and sending pre-come everywhere. Only a few more slaps, and Castiel's cries become one, long wail, and he stripes himself in thick white spurts, all the way up to his neck.
"That's it. Beautiful," Dean husks, lightly pumping Castiel through it. He would love to be able to take his own erection in hand right now, criss-cross Cas' come with his own, but more so because he knows that's what Cas wants of him. Not so much for his own pleasure. Castiel in climax is one of the most beautiful things Dean's ever seen, and he's happy enough just to sit back and watch, whispering praise and endearments.
This time Castiel's orgasm hits him long and hard, and he's still twitching out come long after Dean lets go of his cock to play with the spunk on his chest, smearing it over Cas' un-pierced nipple and twisting it wet. And when Cas is finally done, Dean carefully wipes him clean, stroking his arms and pressing kisses all over his face and lips until he becomes lucid again.
"Come on, angel-face, let's get you into bed," Dean murmurs. Castiel makes an unhappy sound, burrowing into Dean's chest like a sleepy child, and Dean can't help but chuckle fondly at him. "Come on, angel, I know you can do it," he encourages softly. "And you'll be much more comfortable once you're there," he says, sitting up.
Castiel makes another unhappy sound, but spreads his legs nonetheless, allowing Dean to remove the vibrator still nestled inside him and slide in his usual steel plug, keeping him stretched and ready for whatever Dean may want to put inside him next.
"That's it. Good," Dean croons, and Castiel lets out a small sigh of content as the plug settles into place. "Now go on," he orders, taking up the leash attached to Castiel's collar, and Cas obediently slides off the couch to the floor.
He watches with amazement as Castiel begins to crawl to their bedroom on all fours, the wings tattooed on his back rippling as his muscles shift under the skin, the plug between his cheeks flashing and the chain of his leash shimmering and tinkling with every movement. Like Dean always says, everything's better with a little bit of metal, and Castiel is no exception. But then again, Cas is damn near perfect to begin with.
Dean is so lost in the sight of him, he doesn't even realise the leash has gone taut in his hand, until Castiel twists to look over his shoulder at him, raising an enquiring eyebrow. As Dean belatedly hops off the couch to follow, he wonders just who is really doing the leading anymore, and whether that's something he needs to be worrying about as well. But once he secures the end of Castiel's leash to the head of their bed, and crawls under the sheets into Castiel's waiting arms, Dean decides it doesn't really matter, as long as Cas stays right here, with him.
Dean sleeps fitfully, lacking the help of an orgasm to release all the pent-up energy and tension inside him. And when he does sleep, his dreams are filled with blue-eyes and wings, and the sound they make when they're flying away. His only comfort is that each time he wakes up, Castiel is there, sleeping beside him – until suddenly, he isn't.
"Cas?" Dean calls out, panic leaping into his chest as his hand searches the cold sheets beside him. But then Dean feels a frustrated huff of air in between his legs, and not only does it tell him where Castiel is, but what Cas is also trying to do – as the puff of breath only accentuates the fact that Dean's skin is wet with spit. Lifting the sheets, Dean sees Castiel's face near his crotch, frowning at his limp dick, and Dean sighs. He can't even get morning wood anymore.
"I'm sorry, Dean," Castiel says, his lip actually trembling as he apologizes. "I just want to feel you inside me," he whispers, eyes brimming with tears.
"Oh, angel," Dean sighs, his chest tightening painfully at the heartbreak on Castiel's face. The tears spill over as Castiel crawls out from under the sheets, presenting his rear for punishment, but as Dean raises his hand, he finds he just doesn't have it in him.
"It's okay, angel," Dean says, stroking the curve of Castiel's ass. "Come here," he orders softly.
Castiel's eyes are filled with confusion when he turns back around, but he obeys nonetheless, crawling into Dean's waiting arms and letting himself be coddled. Dean tries to soothe him with soft kisses, petting Castiel's hair and wiping away his tears as they fall, but it does nothing to wipe away the confusion in Castiel's eyes. And for good reason. One of the first things Dean ever taught him was that he wasn't supposed to initiate something without explicit orders, so for Cas to even try speaks volumes about how bad things are getting. But Dean just can't bring himself to punish Cas for something that isn't really Cas' fault.
No, this is all on Dean. It's his fault he can't give Cas what he needs. And he's not going to take his frustration out on Cas.
He's just going to have to be a little more creative.
"On your back, angel. Hands up top," Dean orders, opening their bedside drawer and pulling out the lube. The toys they use most often are in that drawer as well, but Dean bypasses them altogether, getting off the bed to slide out one of the large leather boxes underneath.
It's time for the big guns.
Castiel's eyes widen as Dean lays out the toys he wants to use, one by one. First, a large rubber dildo, larger than Dean even. Next, a clear plastic plug, the largest and roundest he owns. And finally, the largest, thickest dildo he has. The kind that brings to mind the expression 'hung like a horse.'
"Are you ready for this, angel-face?" Dean asks, smirking. Castiel rips his gaze away from the toys at the sound of Dean's voice, eyes still wide as he nods, gripping the top bar of their bed's headboard tight.
"Good," Dean smiles genuinely, stroking Castiel's face with his thumb. "I'm going to make this so good for you, angel," he whispers, leaning over to give Cas one last kiss, assuring and grounding them both.
Taking one of Castiel's ankles in hand, Dean pushes Cas' leg back over his head, far enough for Dean to strap it in one of the leather cuffs, hanging from a chain around the corner post of the bed. He does the same with Castiel's other leg, strapping it in the cuff hanging from the other corner, and effectively spreading Castiel as wide open and exposed as possible. He briefly considers cuffing Castiel's wrists to the top bar of the bedhead as well, but this time the straps are meant to make Cas more comfortable, not to confine him. So Dean slides a pillow underneath Castiel's hips, making the position a little easier, and grabs the towel hanging over the bedhead to lay underneath him. They're going to need a lot of lube.
Once he's done re-strapping Castiel's testicles, he slips Cas' usual plug free, sparing a moment to admire the way Cas' hole gapes from its absence, fluttering in the sudden emptiness with the need to filled. Dean smirks, picking up the first dildo and coating it with lube, making a show of jacking its length, slow and wet. There's nothing spectacular about this particular toy. In fact, they rarely use it, preferring to use things like vibrators and beads instead. Which is why they keep it under the bed. But Dean's going to use it now because it's larger than him, so it's a good place to start. And by the time he's done with his little lube show, Cas is salivating for it.
Oh, Cas groans so pretty when Dean slides it in, hips squirming to take it deeper and legs kicking against his chains. Castiel loves having his hole filled, fucked, fondled, anything. And Dean's come to love giving Cas what he wants. Dean doesn't even have to aim for Cas' prostrate, Cas' hole is so sensitive all on its own. But it's still too early for that anyway. Dean's not aiming to stimulate yet, he's aiming to stretch.
"Breathe, angel, we've still got a long way to go," he says, and Cas nods, trying to relax. "Good, that's it," Dean croons, stroking the inside of his thigh. When Cas is finally so loose, the dildo slips in and out of him with ease, Dean pulls it out all together, and reaches for the next toy.
"Alright, gorgeous, time for the next one," he says, calling Castiel's attention to the rounded plug in his hand. Castiel's eyes go wide again as Dean slicks it up with lube, smearing more into his open hole for good measure. But although the size of the thing is intimidating, they both know Cas can take it. The last time Dean used it on him, he made Cas kneel in a corner for a whole hour with it inside him, and Cas liked it so much he wriggled and squirmed around it the entire time, begging Dean to let him come.
It's with this knowledge Dean teases him, pressing the rounded tip against Cas' entrance and circling it, prodding his hole as if to slide it in, before teasing it some more.
"Dean! Please!" Castiel gasps, thrusting his hips in the air.
"Okay, you asked for it," Dean chuckles lowly, before pushing it in. Castiel takes the tip of it easily, already stretched by the dildo before. But after the first inch the plug becomes more and more rounded, and Dean has to go exceedingly slower, letting Castiel adjust around its shape in increments.
It's amazing to watch. Because the plug is clear, Dean gets a near perfect view of how Castiel's hole stretches wider and wider, until finally, the thickest part of it goes in. Cas gobbles the rest of it up, easily, until all that's left is the handle Dean's holding. But this time, Dean doesn't let go. Doesn't let it just sit in there, even though Cas is nearly sobbing with pleasure. This time Dean keeps prodding, and twisting, pushing at Cas' insides and making sure he's as loose as he is on the outside.
It's a good thing Cas' legs are strapped open. In mere minutes Cas stops kicking against his chains, legs turning to jello. But his knuckles have gone white from how hard he's gripping the bar of the bed.
"You're doing so good, angel," Dean murmurs, pressing a kiss to the inside of Castiel's knee. "But we're only halfway there," he says, starting to pull the plug back out. Castiel groans miserably at that, making Dean chuckle again. "I know, gorgeous. I know," he croons, stroking Cas' thigh with his thumb as he uses it for leverage to pull. It's only a little easier sliding the plug out than it was getting it in, just because of the sheer size of it, so Dean still goes slowly, carefully, until finally, with a slick pop, it comes out.
Castiel's hole positively gapes afterwards, and Dean bites down a groan at the sight. Grabbing the last dildo, he slicks it up with a ridiculous amount of lube. Castiel's eyes fly impossibly wide at the size of the thing, thick as an arm, and that's the whole point really. They've never used it before, but Dean knows Cas is ready for it now.
He goes in slow. So slow. Slower than before. And Castiel just takes it, his hole thoroughly stretched from the girth of the plug. But this time, instead of tapering off after a few inches like the plug, this dildo just keeps going, and going, thick and round and long. And as it goes, a stream of curses begin to fall filthy from Castiel's lips.
Dean grins to himself when it starts. His angel's usually so good when they start to play – only using the words "yes," "no," or "please" for begging – even though it's been a long time since Dean's enforced those rules. These days, when Cas falls back to using those words, Dean simply takes it as a sign he's doing his job right. But when Cas loses control completely, and starts swearing like a sailor, that's some next level shit.
"Oh my fucking Christ!" Castiel shouts as Dean finally bottoms out, hitting deep enough that the only way to go, is back out. He begins to thrust, only managing a bare inch at a time at first. But before long, the thing starts sliding more smoothly, back and forth in Cas' hole.
Cas is a mess, cursing and groaning on the sheets, oozing precome all over himself. He loses his grip on the top bar of the bed, and his hands slide down to clutch at the supporting bars near his head instead, which is trashing side to side in his pillow.
"Dean! Jesus fuck, yes! Fuck me, fuck me, please! God dammit!" he yells, eyes rolling with pleasure. And fuck does Dean want to put his dick inside Castiel right now. But he's still as soft as rope. Even with an up close and personal view of the sex-god writhing on the bed in front of him.
"Fuck!" Dean curses under his breath. He pulls the dildo out all the way, and it comes so smoothly, Dean knows Cas is more than ready. He picks up the lube, one last time, and covers every inch of his hand with it, all the way past his wrist.
Cas has been stretched so damn loose, Dean can sink three fingers into him straight away, easy. Four doesn't take much more work either. And when he folds his thumb in and starts pushing that in too, Cas' eyes finally fly open again, realizing what Dean means to do.
"Dean?" Castiel gasps, disbelief on his face.
Dean nods his head, smirking, but deadly serious, confirming Castiel's suspicions. Cas groans, dropping his head back onto the pillow, and that's all the invitation Dean needs.
Soon, the widest part of his hand is inside Castiel. But Dean doesn't stop pushing, carefully curling his fingers into a fist, until his hand is buried all the way up past his wrist. It was easier than he expected it would be, but Cas was well-prepared by the sheer girth of the last dildo. Dean's fist must feel like nothing in comparison.
But there's something Dean's fist can do that the last dildo couldn't. It can bend, and curl, and aim, with deadly accuracy. So as Dean thrusts his arm, in and out of Cas' hole, he curls his fist upwards, rubbing his knuckles right into Cas' prostrate.
Cas screams. And screams. Wailing and clutching the bars of the headboard so tight, Dean thinks he actually hear them bending. Until finally, Cas' voice gives out, and his fingers come away from the bed's bars altogether, body going completely lax and just taking it.
For a second, Dean thinks he's broken him. Or that he's discovered a whole new level beyond filthy-sailor-mouth. Either way, he starts doing what he always does in an uncertain silence – he starts talking.
"Can you feel me, Cas?" Dean croons, still thrusting soft, but steady. "That's all me, inside you, fucking your sweet ass. God you feel so good inside. So warm, and snug," he murmurs, whispering filthy praises and grounding Castiel in the sound of his voice.
"Dean," Castiel mewls, finally coming back to him. So Dean just keeps talking, keeps fisting Cas inside, until with every press Castiel is mumbling "Dean, yes, yes, Dean, yes…"
"I'm gonna make you come now, angel, so hard," Dean tells him, but Cas just keeps up his litany of Dean-yes-yes-Dean. Even when Dean unstraps his balls, massaging the blood back into them. Even when Dean takes his cock in hand, and starts pumping in time with his fist. Then suddenly Cas garbles a choked noise, before going completely silent, climax spurting out of his cock and insides clenching tight around Dean's hand.
And then Cas passes out.
"Holy shit," Dean curses under his breath, shocked and awed. "Cas?" he calls out, to no reply. "Cas!" he tries again, louder, but Cas still doesn't come to.
Carefully pulling his hand out of Cas' body, he quickly wipes it on the towel, crawling up the bed. "Cas?" he calls softly, lightly slapping Castiel's face with his other hand, but Cas still doesn't respond. Dean checks his pulse, and it's a little erratic, but it's still going strong.
"Son of a bitch," Dean barks a laugh. He really did break his angel.
But in the best way.
Grinning, he uncuffs Castiel's ankles, slowly massaging the circulation back into Cas' legs as he lays them back down on the bed. Then he heads for the bathroom to clean himself up, before bringing back a wet cloth to wipe Castiel down with. It takes a few trips to get Castiel clean, and he still hasn't woken up by the time Dean's done, so Dean leaves a cool cloth on his forehead, laying down beside him to keep vigil.
He doesn't know how long he stares, stroking his fingers through Cas' hair and pressing soft little kisses to Castiel's face. But eventually Cas' eyelids flutter open again, and when his gaze lands on Dean, he smiles.
"Hey," Dean smiles softly in return, pressing a chaste kiss to Castiel's lips. And when he pulls away, Castiel says,
"I love you."
So Dean kisses him again. And again. Until with every breath Castiel is whispering "I love you," and Dean soaks it up like the sun, letting it warm him through to his bones. As much as he wishes he could fuck Castiel the way they both want, Dean needs this just as much too.