always_enduphere | (no subject)

[from here]

"Come in, Dean," Castiel says, voice soft as he walks over to shut and lock the door. The chains are hanging from the ceiling and his bag on the nearby bed with anything they may need afterwards. It is very different than anything else they've done but he's startled by how much he wants it. He turns back to Dean, cupping his cheek as he presses close.

"You are free to talk or make noise as you see fit but I want to use the chains, the usual ones. You won't be able to touch me and I want it that way. You have no part to play in this other than to accept what I want to give you and do to you. I want to make you beg and I want to make you come, more than once. I want you to let me take care of you. Are you amenable to this?"

He doesn't have permission to do it, but just knowing that he needs permission at all is enough to bow Dean's head against Castiel's shoulder, body curling close to soak in his warmth. In the space of only a few breaths, he's as lightheaded as he'd ever been after stroke after stroke from the crop, and Dean nods slowly against Castiel's shirt, fingers moving to the hem of his own shirt.

"Clothes off?" he asks with some effort.

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"There are things I want, things I have wanted for some time," he says, thumbs spreading Dean wide as he licks a careful circle around him. "I want to hold you down and I want to fuck you. I want that very much. For now, I am going to do this because I love you and I love your body and I love that you make me want hedonistic, filthy things."

He does not hesitate before diving back in, tongue pushing into Dean's tight heat as his fingers dig into his sharp hipbones. It should feel debasing, an Angel of the Lord on his knees acting in such a manner but it feels thrilling and he doesn't even try to stifle his moans as he buries his face against Dean.

Dean jerks, but between the chains and Castiel's tight grip, he can't go far, held open and unable to escape every filthy swipe of Castiel's tongue. He can feel every moan against his skin, vibrating at the core of him, and Dean makes a strangled sound, embarrassed despite the order to be vocal at how needy he sounds, but he's not allowed to stop. Even in this, he's completely at Castiel's mercy.

He shakes, dick an ache between his thighs and getting heavier by the moment. "Cas, please," Dean pants, not sure how long he can take this, his toes curling against the hard ground.

Castiel pulls back just enough to slide a spit slick finger inside of Dean, crooking at he searches for that spot that Dean so unerringly always finds in him.

"I have seen you take beatings in here that most men could not stand," he murmurs, tongue darting out to stab in alongside his finger. "You can take this. You are going to take this from me. You have my permission to come whenever you want and then it will be my turn."

With that, he dives back in, free hand moving around Dean's hip to wrap around his hard cock, jacking him as he continues to press inside.

Dean barks in surprise at the sudden invasion, body slick but still it burns, a perfect counterpoint of pain to the too sweet drag against his prostate. He gulps down air, losing whatever oxygen he had when fingers slide around his cock, stroking it in counterpoint to the tongue and finger reaching into him.

"Fuck," Dean grinds out, and even if he weren't bound it'd be hopeless to resist this much relentless pleasure. He closes his eyes and hears hold you down and fuck you, feels Castiel push into him and imagines it's not his finger but his cock, and Dean is gone, screaming his orgasm into the dark ceiling above him.

Castiel groans against him as Dean jerks and shudders, making enough noise that there will be no doubt what has happened in this room and no doubt who it involved.

And in a dark, perverse corner of Castiel's mind, he likes that. He wants all the people who stare at Dean to know who he belongs to.

He stumbles to his feet, stripping off his shirt and shoving his pants down enough to wrap his come soaked hand around his own cock, moaning even as he moves to press against Dean's front. "Dean," he pants, pressing his cock against Dean's twitching belly as he strokes. "You did so well. You were so good. We will do this again, we will do this and.." His voice catches, eyes squeezing shut as he gets close. "And I will fuck you, after. I want it."

Body spent and mind spinning, Dean leans instinctively into the warmth at his front, Castiel's cock shockingly hot against the cooling mess on his belly. He groans, tilting his head to rest against Castiel's shoulder, and parts his lips to mouth against his throat.

"Yeah," he sighs, and the ache has subsided, but it's not gone. In the back of his mind, Dean knows it won't be until Castiel has come. "I want it, too, Cas."

That is, ultimately, what finishes him as his orgasm is wrung out of him. Dean wants it too and as he shakes and gasps against him, images flash behind his eyes. Pinning Dean down against their bed. Pushing into him. Running his tongue down the ridges of his spine as he fucks into him.

He slumps forward, free hand gripping at the back of Dean's neck as his other hand slides in the mess between their bellies before wrapping around Dean's waist.

"I love you," he breathes, keeping his eyes closed as he comes down, pressing a gentle kiss against Dean's shoulder. In a few minutes he will unchain Dean, clean him up and take him home. But for now, he just soaks up his warmth and the idea that this was a good thing. This felt good. And they can have this again.