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Castiel shuts off the ignition, killing the hum of his bike between his thighs. He swings his leg over the seat and kicks down the stand. As he scowls at a nosy old hag he regrets that he didn’t refuel at one of the deserted gas stations he passed earlier.
He grabs a nozzle and shoves it into the tank. The faster this gets done, the faster he can get out of this stale little town. He scans over the peeling facades of the buildings across the road. One of them is a garage. The entire side of the building is open, revealing a young man bent over the open hood of a car.
Castiel’s eyes snag on the back of his blue coveralls. They’re loose but even then the hint of a firm round ass is unmistakable. The man has tied the coveralls around his waist, revealing a white tank top that leaves his lean torso on display.
Castiel keeps an eye on the show in front of him while he removes and replaces the nozzle. His attention is rewarded by the man standing up. Raw animal want surges up in Castiel in reply. The man has full lips that looks made for taking a cock. His long eyelashes cast shadows across high cheekbones. Even through the visor Castiel can make out freckles dusted across tan skin that would look perfect flushed pink.
The man lifts a hand to his sandy hair, stopping the movement at the last second as if suddenly remembering that his hands are smeared with oil. His chest moves as he laughs quietly to himself.
Yeah, Castiel can spare the time for a detour.
----
Castiel treks through the forest. Following the man to his home had been almost insultingly easy. But Castiel isn’t ready to stop playing with his prey yet, so he parks his bike at a distance so the roar of the engine doesn’t give him away.
He leaves his helmet but brings his gun and a knife.
If Castiel had been of another disposition he could have just walked up to the man in the garage. Castiel knows the interest his tall, dark form draws. And when he bothers with conquests they always fawn over his muscles and tattoos. Unfortunately for his quarry, Castiel doesn’t particularly care for flirting and seduction. When Castiel wants something he takes it. And if he decides to give anything back it’s purely for his own satisfaction.
And his intended victim is basically begging for it. Living alone and secluded in the woods like this. Bad choice.
The corner of Castiel’s mouth ticks up.
----
Castiel watches the house for a while, considering what he’s in the mood for. Before he can settle on anything the man makes his way out of a door and into the forest with a tattered copy of a book in his hand. He has changed clothes into worn jeans and a faded shirt.
Castiel smiles. An ambush is always fun.
He waits until the man has been swallowed up by the trees. Then he saunters over to the car parked in the driveway and slits the tires.
He considers smashing a window for the hell of it, but in the end he settles on just using the unlocked door. There’s a neat little metal plate on the door identifying the man as Dean Winchester. Castiel runs a hand over the name before closing the door behind him.
The house is a cute little cottage. Castiel feels a strong pull to smash something. But that’s going to come later. For now he can be patient.
He shreds his gloves and leather jacket. Then he decides to remove his heavy boots as well. He wants to have full range of motion for later. This leaves him in kevlar jeans and a short-sleeved shirt that stretches tight across his chest. There’s something to be said for the full effect of leathers and a helmet, but right now he’s in the mood for the up-close-and-personal version.
He spends the wait rifling through Dean’s belongings. Dean lives a simple, ordinary life. He definitely lives alone and with few signs of visitors. He has boring passions like classic rock and books. The only pictures in the place is of Dean with another man. In one of them they’re smiling and he has an arm thrown around Dean’s shoulder. It’s all very uninspired.
----
The setting sun is casting long shadows across the floorboards before Dean returns home. Castiel lets him dump the book on a sidetable and walk into the hallway before he steps out from the shadows.
”Hello, Dean” he points his gun at the younger man with a sardonic smile.
Dean violently flinches, watching him with startled green eyes. The surprise on his pretty face slides into fear as he takes in the weapon. It’s beautiful. But then he starts throwing his gaze around the room.
Castiel cocks the gun and tuts at him ”Don’t do that”
Dean’s eyes snap back to his but the defiance is still there ”What do you want?”
Castiel shrugs, closely watching the way Dean tenses in preparation for movement. So when Dean tries to bolt, Castiel is prepared for it. Even if he wasn’t fully expecting him to do it. They both know that Castiel is stronger and meaner, not to mention armed. It’s a stupid fucking move.
Castiel barely breaks a sweat grabbing Dean and wrestling him to the ground. He pins him to the floor with a knee between the shoulderblades. Then he points the gun at the floor just next to Dean’s thigh and shoots, watching in satisfaction as the wood explodes in a rain of splinters that cuts through the denim of Dean’s pants. Dean recoils. His scream is music to Castiel’s ears. Even though it’s definitely more from the shock than it’s from pain.
Castiel leans forward so he’s hovering close to Dean’s ear ”Not very bright, are you, sweetheart?”
Dean curses at him and tries to squirm out from under him. Castiel presses the barrel of the gun to his head and the movement abruptly stops.
”Better” Castiel purrs ”Get up”
Castiel keeps the gun pressed to Dean’s head while he steers him to the bedroom. When they pass through the doorway Dean tenses visibly but like a good boy he keeps moving.
Castiel presses him down on the bed on his back, then follows to straddle him while he reaches for the rope he’s put on the bedside table earlier in preparation for this.
”Hands on the headboard” Castiel orders.
Dean closes his eyes but he reaches up and curls shaking hands around the wrought iron of the headboard. He might not be very smart but at least he’s a fast learner.
Castiel drops his gun on the bedside table before looping the rope around Dean’s wrists and securing them to the metal. Dean’s fingers are oil-stained, the black blemishes swallowing up the dusting of freckles. Castiel checks the tightness of the rope. He has left enough room for two fingers. He briefly considers retieing the rope just to prove that he’s not going soft. But he abandons that thought. Castiel knows that he’s not, Dean is about to realize it and the rope is definitely tight enough that Dean can’t get free. There’s no need to prove anything.
Castiel pulls back to consider his prey pinned beneath him. Dean still has his eyes closed, he’s breathing shallowly and he’s lying still under Castiel even though his legs are free.
Castiel sits back only to immediately feel the hard line of Dean’s erection against him. Red floods Dean’s cheeks at the contact. Castiel’s grin is wicked. He doesn’t give a shit that Dean is aroused but he loves his embarrassment and horror.
He reaches down and roughly grips Dean through his jeans. Dean whimpers.
”I should have known you would enjoy this. You’ve just been waiting for someone to come and turn you into their slut”
Dean shakes his head with a tight expression.
”Oh, but you have. Living alone like this, ripe for the taking. I’m probably not even the first one, am I? Who’s the man in the pictures? Your boyfriend?” Not that Castiel cares. It makes no difference to him either way.
Dean’s eyes snap open to glare at Castiel. The fire in his gaze is clear even past his blown pupils ”You leave him out of it”
Castiel laughs ”We’ll see about that. Depends on how good of a fuck you are. Otherwise I might just have to go find him” It’s an empty threat. Castiel has never liked them tall and gangly. But he loves the way Dean starts shaking with anger underneath him.
Castiel ignores Dean’s reaction ”You’re going to blow me. If you make it good enough I might even prepare you before I fuck your tight little hole”
Castiel gives Dean’s erection one last squeeze before opening his own pants. He pulls out his throbbing dick, enjoying the alarm on Dean’s face as he takes in the size.
”And don’t get any ideas. If you bite me I’m going to cut your pretty little dick off”
When Castiel moves up to Dean’s face the man opens his mouth for him and lets him feed him his hard cock. Even though the reluctance is written clearly across his face.
”Do you like being fucked dry?” Castiel keeps his tone conversational but Dean picks up on the threat immediately.
Dean starts sucking and licking. It’s not very good, either from inexperience or from the position. But the sheer power of making Dean work for it goes straight to Castiel’s cock. He lets Dean struggle for a while longer before he starts fucking the wet heat of his mouth. Dean immediately sputters and gags, urging Castiel on.
Dean is perfect like this. The discomfort is clear on his face and his eyelashes have turned wet and spiky. But even then he’s not fighting back, letting Castiel use his mouth as he pleases.
Castiel feels Dean’s throat uselessly spasm around the head of his cock. Dean’s eyes are wide with panic. Castiel groans. The temptation of coming down Dean’s throat is almost overpowering. But he wants to bury himself in Dean’s ass, so he forces himself to pull back and out of Dean’s mouth.
A wet cough racks through Dean’s body. Castiel lazily strokes himself through it. Dean stops coughing and starts gulping down lungfulls of air.
Castiel makes a thoughtful noise ”You could certainly use some practice”
Dean freezes beneath him at the feedback, likely remembering Castiel’s threat ”Please” his voice is wrecked.
Castiel cocks his head ”Please what?”
”Please don’t -”
Castiel cuts him off ”Don’t ask me not to do something. If there’s something you want you can ask for that”
Dean’s expression turns pained but he turns out to be smarter than Castiel has given him credit for ”Please prepare me before you fuck me”
Castiel’s cock leaks precome at having Dean beg for a fuck that he doesn’t even want. It puts him in a very accommodating mood. Dean’s brand of embarrassed arousal makes him the perfect candidate for another kind of humiliation than the one Castiel usually deals in. Castiel might even make him come tonight. That’s not something Castiel usually bothers with, but he can just picture Dean’s horrified expression and his eyes fluttering closed against the reluctant pleasure of being used.
Castiel doesn’t answer Dean, enjoying keeping him in the dark. Dean is shaking under his hands but lifts his hips to help Castiel peel his jeans and boxers off. The exposed skin makes Castiel hungry for more.
He could rip Dean’s shirt off with his hands, or just push it up to rest against the rope. Instead he reaches into his pocket and flicks his knife open. Dean whimpers in fear at the sight, only marginally relaxing when Castiel takes the blade to the fabric of the shirt.
Castiel works slowly and occasionally lets the cold metal rest against Dean’s golden skin before continuing cutting the shirt. Dean’s skin pebbles with goosebumps in the wake. Castiel dumps the rags to the floor. His gaze stops on Dean’s peaked nipples. Dean holds his breath, his wide eyes fixed on the knife. Castiel runs the flat side of the blade down one pink bud, earning him a strangled moan from Dean.
Castiel’s smile turns wicked at the sound. It’s a quick drag of skin against skin to confirm that Dean is still hard. Dean sucks in a breath at the touch, the arousal on his face mixing with self-disgust.
Castiel drags the flat side of the metal down Dean’s other nipple. Dean bites his lip hard but Castiel still hears the sound he’s trying to silence.
”I wasn’t expecting you to be such a whore” Castiel flicks the blade closed and sets it down on the table ”Do you have lube?” he knows the answer to this already but he enjoys making Dean an active participant in his own defiling.
”Bedside table. Drawer” Dean grinds out.
Castiel easily finds it and wastes no time before pressing a slick finger against Dean’s rim. Dean flinches back at the contact but a warning look from Castiel is all it takes for him to stop moving.
There’s resistance against his finger. He could just push past it but he wants Dean intact. For now.
He shoots Dean another scolding look ”Relax”
”I’m trying”
Dean looks unnerved and it dawns on Castiel that he’s not doing it on purpose. Which shouldn’t matter but Castiel isn’t in the mood for Dean’s sweet concentrated face to twist in pain. The tip of his pink tongue rests against puffy lips and there’s a line running between his eyebrows. He’s trying his best to follow Castiel’s orders.
So Castiel puts his hand on the velvet skin of Dean’s dick and starts stroking him. Dean makes an illadvised sound of protest but quickly strangles it. The outraged shock on his face gradually fades into arousal. Dean clearly tries to fight the sensation, his abdomen clenching with the effort. But the fluttering of his lashes and escaped whimpers betray him.
Castiel pushes a knuckle inside. There’s still resistance but far less than before. He strokes Dean through it until he’s ready to take another finger. But Dean’s entrance is still so, so tight. If he actually has a boyfriend the man clearly isn’t taking advantage of what’s on offer. Suspicion prickles at the corners of Castiel’s mind.
”Are you a virgin, sweetheart?”
Dean’s eyes snap open. He narrows them at Castiel, the effect somewhat ruined by his blown pupils ”No. I just don’t bottom”
Well, if that’s not the stupidest thing Castiel has heard all week.
”What a waste. You were clearly made for it”
Embarrassment floods Dean’s cheeks. Or maybe it’s anger ”I’m not into it”
Yeah, right. Castiel crooks his fingers against Dean’s prostate, watching the man’s dick twitch and leak precome in response. Dean starts coughing to cover his moan.
”It’s just the two of us here. There’s no need to try to fool anyone” Castiel says. He’s ruthlessly pumping his fingers and rubbing against Dean’s prostate.
Dean is shaking with suppressed desire and he might bite clean through his bottom lip if he continues like that. But that’s not Castiel’s problem. He removes his fingers and slicks up his cock. He’s lining the head up against Dean’s fluttering rim when Dean lets go of his abused lower lip.
”Are you using a condom?” there’s uneasiness lacing his voice.
Castiel laughs ”Absolutely not”
He doesn’t give Dean any time to react before pushing in. The movement is slow but Dean still hisses at the intrusion. Castiel watches Dean’s face. Fuck, are those tears? He’s really not in the mood for that right now.
”Hey, none of that. Pull it together”
Dean nods and clenches his eyes closed but there’s still wetness spilling from the corners. Castiel stops moving, not even fully able to enjoy the tight heat of being half sheathed in Dean.
Castiel sighs ”Is this about the condom?”
Dean nods.
”Look at me”
Dean complies.
”I just got tested. I’m not going to give you anything, okay?” He would be saying that either way but it just so happens to be true.
Dean eyes him with suspicion but the tears slow down. Finally he wets his lips and nods, apparently deciding to believe Castiel. Bad call, really, but it’s not as if it makes a difference to Dean’s situation, so in a way it might not be that stupid.
Castiel gives Dean’s dick a couple of strokes. The flare of arousal in Dean’s glossy eyes twists something inside Castiel’s stomach.
Castiel pushes in until he’s fully enveloped by Dean’s tightness. Castiel groans at the sensation. This was a great idea.
Castiel starts fucking into Dean. The feeling is heaven, but Dean’s visible discomfort keeps tearing holes in Castiel’s enjoyment. He huffs in annoyance but changes the angle so he’s hitting Dean’s prostate. The change in Dean is instant. His jaw unclenches as his mouth opens on little moans. The arousal is back in his eyes and there’s a flush riding high on his cheekbones. The freckles add softness to the picture of debauchery.
Castiel grips Dean’s thighs to make it easier to keep the new angle. He’s careful to avoid the scattered wooden splinters embedded in Dean’s skin.
Dean wraps his legs around Castiel. It instantly puts Castiel on edge, but being buried in Dean is too good for him to care. Dean doesn’t look like he’s about to try something either. He drops his head back against the mattress, watching Castiel with hooded eyes. Castiel is fucking soft sounds out of him. And then he starts lifting his hips to meet Castiel’s thrusts.
It should piss him off. Dean is supposed to just lie there and take what Castiel gives him. But instead it spurs him on. He tightens his grip on the lean muscle of Dean’s thighs and continues pounding into Dean in a rhythm that grows increasingly erratic. His own harsh breaths are loud in his ears.
Then Dean suddenly freezes under him ”Stop”
If this is the condom issue again, Castiel swears to God… He pulls himself back from the edge to figure out what’s going on. He could just continue but he doesn’t want Dean to ruin his orgasm with his complaining. He could cut him. Just enough to remind him who’s in charge. Castiel’s arousal recoils at that though. Okay, something else then.
He focuses his eyes on Dean. Dean’s eyes are still huge pupils ringed with green, his cheeks are still flush, his lips are pink and slick. Dean is still hard, his precome making the space between them wet and sticky. And Dean was just tightening around him.
Castiel laughs as he puts the pieces together ”What, you don’t want to come?”
Dean shakes his head.
”Sorry, sweetheart. I think it’s a little late for you to pretend that you’re not enjoying this”
Dean blushes more violently but when Castiel resumes fucking into him he doesn’t protest.
Dean is soft and pliant under him and Castiel feels feral with it. The soft skin of Dean’s neck is calling his name so he leans down to lick a stripe under Dean’s jaw. Dean whimpers. Castiel licks down the tendon, sucking marks into the skin as he goes. The need to leave Dean reminders of him feels primal. Dean arches up against him with every mark.
Castiel trails Dean’s collarbone with careful bites and openmouthed kisses, chasing the desperate sounds Dean makes in reply.
Castiel feels a familiar heat and tightening. But he needs Dean to go down with him.
”Come for me” Castiel manages to grind out.
He barely grazes the velvet of Dean’s erection before Dean clenches around him. Dean’s features draw together and his mouth opens around nothing. Castiel fucks him through it in fluid motions. Castiel is flooded with heat as he spills inside Dean. His entire body feels electric with his climax. He groans. He finally stops his shallow thrusts and collapses on top of Dean’s relaxed body.
His cock is softening inside of Dean. The usual sharp edges of his racing thoughts feel softer, dipped in molasses. He’s floating with it. He allows himself a minute of luxuriating in it. Then he pulls himself together. He has already wasted enough time. He needs to get moving.
He pulls out of Dean and gets up. As he uses the rags of Dean’s shirt to clean himself of Dean’s come, he allows himself one last look.
Dean’s stomach is a come-covered mess. His bent legs display his puffy hole and Castiel’s come seeping out onto the sheet. Dean is boneless, watching Castiel with an unguarded, fucked-out expression. The sight hits Castiel deep in the stomach.
His eyes are pulled to the splinters in Dean’s thigh. Does Dean know how to clean debris-wounds? Probably not. It’s none of Castiel’s business either way. He tries to force his eyes away from Dean’s prone form. He really is too pretty to live alone like this with no one looking after him. He needs someone to protect him, to use him, to keep him satisfied.
Castiel makes a decision.
”I’m keeping you”