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help_haiti Fic #2: Pretty Angel (1/2)
Mar. 1st, 2010 02:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tracy_loo_whoTitle: Pretty Angel
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Michael, Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Prostitution, implied humiliation/abuse, rimming.
Word Count: ~14,800
Spoilers: 5x14 - My Bloody Valentine
Notes:help_haiti fic #2, dedicated to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dastiel_gal who got outbid in my auction but made a generous donation anyway. Many thanks to ibroketuesday, who betters everything ever (but in particular this fic). I totally jumped on the 5x14 coda bandwagon, but no one's written the rentboy!Cas version yet, right? XD
Summary: Michael has a plan to break Team Free Will, and it involves turning Castiel into a rentboy.
This is how it's going to go:
Michael finds Team Free Will and gives them new lives, Dean the bi-curious chiropractor fucks Castiel the rentboy, the bitterness remains to drive a wedge between them even after Michael returns their memories, and as Dean believes Castiel jumps ship of his own volition, none are any the wiser when Michael dispatches a renegade angel for continually interfering with destiny. After Castiel is gone from Dean's life, Michael can focus on Sam. Then, finally, Dean will be ready to accept the help that he pleads for so brokenly.
Usually Michael wouldn't bother with such roundabout schemes, but he wants to help Dean -- will help Dean -- and this situation with Castiel is a delicate one. Dean likes him, and Michael must take care to not villainize himself in Dean's eyes, so he can't just smite Castiel like he smote Anna. Or at least, he can't do it before Dean thinks Castiel has left him.
Castiel won't leave him, Michael knows, but luckily, Dean has abandonment issues.
***
Technically it's only Dean's first day as a chiropractor, but he doesn't know that. For him, it's been a long and trying week at the clinic, and what was supposed to be his relaxing night out on the town almost ends in a bar fight.
Dean gets kicked out of the bar and is left to stalk angrily through the streets of Manhattan, and Michael can almost taste the pent up testosterone coursing through his veins, pushing Dean to find something to take out his aggression on. He pauses outside what he knows is a brothel to eye the neon sign speculatively, and Michael smiles to himself.
This Dean -- Dean Smith -- has never been with another man before, but he's curious. He's been thinking about it for a long time. And tonight, five beers and a fight finally push him over the edge. Normally he would go to a bar, pick someone out, and take his time, but he isn't in a normal mood.
The inside of the brothel is a dirty, dark place with more people to see him there than Dean is comfortable with, so when he finds that they do out-calls, he decides to leave and give them a ring on his way home.
***
Barely half an hour later, Castiel is standing outside his lavish apartment with a finger on the doorbell, looking out of place in his threadbare sweatshirt and faded jeans. It's freezing outside in February, and he visibly suppresses a shiver.
Dean's been waiting restlessly, a mixture of impatience and nerves, so he's brisk when he opens the door. "So you're the guy, huh?" he asks, eyeing Castiel up and down. Despite Castiel's tatty clothes, Michael can tell he likes what he sees. Castiel averts his gaze.
"I'm the guy," he agrees. "Castiel."
"Yeah, they told me," Dean says, stepping aside and letting Castiel in. "I'm Dean."
Castiel closes the door behind him and looks up. "Did they tell you the terms?"
"Five hundred for the night, no barebacking, scarring, or bruising, right?"
When Castiel smiles, it's thin and no warmth reaches his eyes, but his lips feel warm enough when they find Dean's. "So, Dean," he murmurs. "Tell me what you want."
Dean presses his body flush against Castiel's to maneuver him toward the bedroom at the end of the hall, and Castiel lets him. Apparently that isn't what Dean wants. "Not gonna give in without a fight, are you, Castiel?" he asks in a low voice, nipping none too gently at Castiel's lower lip as he does so.
For a moment Castiel hesitates, but then he shoves Dean away. Dean stands at arm's length for just long enough to allow himself a slow, wicked grin before he's back on Castiel and the two of them are attacking each other, mashing their mouths and bodies together and slamming each other against the walls as their fingers tear at clothes. They don't pause except for that fraction of a second after Castiel gets Dean's shirt off when his eyes fall to the handprint-shaped scar on Dean's arm, and then he's distracted by Dean nipping at his neck. It's amusing to watch and Michael is almost impressed they make it into the bedroom and manage to turn a light on at all.
Castiel is thinner and slightly shorter than Dean, but he's a scrappy fellow and he gives as good as he gets. He actually manages to trip and throw Dean onto the bed. Dean is sweating and heaving by the time their struggle ends with Castiel pressed back against the pillows and Dean straddling his waist, both half naked already. Dean uses a tie to strap Castiel's wrists to one of the bars in the headboard, and he gives Castiel a triumphant, possessive look.
The look on Castiel's face is a guarded one, and now that they've gone still, the only sound in the room is their heavy panting as they stare at each other, measuring, waiting.
It's Dean who moves first, seeing as Castiel can't do much. He's hard already, and he clearly doesn't want to wait any longer, so he pushes down his jeans and rolls on a condom and says hoarsely, "Suck me."
Castiel licks his lips and opens his mouth resignedly, and Dean shifts up his body to slide his cock between those wet lips. When they close around him, he groans softly and grabs on to the headboard with both hands. Michael feels a thrum of pleasure as well, the kind that comes from seeing everything fall into its rightful place in the big picture.
But then something not quite right happens. Dean barely pushes halfway in before he looks down and hesitates. "I'm not choking you, am I?"
Michael wants him to be rougher, crueler, and judging from the way Castiel raises his eyebrows, he was expecting the same. Instead of answering with words, he pointedly lifts his head to take Dean all the way in, and it's Dean who almost chokes.
His thrusts are hurried but shallow, and he makes fucking someone's mouth look almost considerate. Dean never slams his hips into Castiel's face or smashes Castiel's head down into the pillow; even when his movements grow frantic and his thighs start quivering from the effort of holding himself up against the onslaught of pleasure, he stays where he is, where Castiel always has room to pull back if he needs to.
And Castiel is grateful, Michael can tell. He bobs his head in time with Dean's thrusts even though it must strain his neck, up when Dean pushes down and down when Dean pulls up, and he sucks so hard his cheeks hollow out and Michael can see the outline of his tongue constantly stroking and swirling inside his mouth.
"I'm going to--" Dean gasps, far too soon and probably forgetting that it's not like Castiel's going to get a mouthful anyway. "Castiel, god, I'm gonna--"
Then he does, finally letting go of the headboard with one hand and curling his fingers in Castiel's hair as he comes inside his mouth with a low, guttural moan. Dean throws his head back and goes still, suspended in a perfect moment of ecstasy, and Castiel's lips gentle around him as he dry swallows and brings Dean back down with his soft suckling. Dean enjoys the treatment for as long as he can, until he gets too sensitive and has to pull back.
When Dean gets off of Castiel and collapses beside him, Castiel seems almost disappointed, and Michael is disappointed too. Maybe next time, he thinks. The night is long from over.
It takes Dean a few moments to catch his breath, and then he says to the ceiling, "Wow. I guess whoever said guys give better head than chicks do was right."
Castiel's arms are still tied above his head so he can't see Dean very well, but he turns his head to try anyway. "You've only been with women before?" he asks, voice deeper than before and much raspier.
Dean glances over sheepishly. "You want some water, dude?"
The offer clearly surprises Castiel, but he nods cautiously. "Yes, I'd like that."
"Hang on." Dean rolls off the bed, shucks off the condom as well as the jeans and boxers tangled around his knees, and goes to fetch Castiel a glass of water. When he returns, Castiel has scooted up against the pillows a bit and he holds the glass to Castiel's lips, saying with a small grin, "I'd untie you, but, you know. I kinda like you like this."
Castiel drinks and doesn't bother to reply, and after he's had enough, Dean sets the glass down on the nightstand and kisses him, an unhurried exploration of his mouth. "You're my first guy," he says, answering Castiel's earlier question. "Can I touch you?"
"I'm clearly your first whore, too," Castiel replies with a faint snort, a hint of derision curling around the word whore. "You bought me, Dean. You can do what you like with me as long as you don't violate the rules."
Dean pulls back with a frown, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I've turned into that creepy asshole with a sex slave fantasy, haven't I?" he says slowly, like it's just dawned on him.
For a moment it looks like Castiel wants to say, yes, you have, but then he gives an equally uncomfortable shrug and glances away. After it becomes clear Dean isn't going to say more, he finds Dean's gaze again. "Yes, you can touch me," he says tiredly.
Still, Dean doesn't make a move.
Castiel sighs. "Look, Dean, as far as I can tell you're not nearly as much of a creepy asshole as most. I'd probably be in worse hands right now if you hadn't called, so think of it as doing me a favor if it makes you feel better."
"If I wanted to do you a favor I'd give you the night off," Dean points out.
"Right," Castiel snorts. "Because when a guy is only good for fucking, what he really wants is to be bought and to then have his client decide he's not even worth fucking."
Dean frowns again. "It's not like that."
"Then touch me." Castiel sounds defiant. Challenging, even.
There's a moment of hesitation, but then Dean does, climbing on top of Castiel to kiss him tentatively. Castiel responds encouragingly, and Dean gets bolder, letting his hands roam over Castiel's body and drinking in all the bare skin from his waist up. If Michael thought he was being considerate before, now all of Dean's earlier aggression has been spent and he's downright careful in the way his fingertips feel out all the hard places on Castiel's chest where he's used to softness, in the way his tongue traces the arteries in Castiel's neck, in the way his mouth closes over Castiel's Adam's apple and sucks. But there's nothing Michael can do to fix it now, so he simply watches as Castiel bares even more of his throat, offering it up to Dean like a sacrifice. Dean moves on to nip at his collarbones and stroke the faint ridges of his ribs.
It takes him a good ten minutes just to explore above the waist, and then Dean pauses with a hand on Castiel's fly. He glances up like he's seeking permission, and even though Castiel says nothing, the dark, hungry look in his eyes is apparently all Dean needs.
Dean undoes his jeans and slides them off of Castiel along with his briefs, then sits back on his heels between Castiel's legs and takes his time just looking at Castiel's naked body. Castiel closes his eyes and waits while Dean looks at him, at his swollen lips and mussed up hair and the hard line of his cock resting against his stomach.
Tentatively, so very tentatively, Dean reaches out to wrap his hand around it, and Castiel's body shudders beneath him. His eyes fly open and he breathes, "Dean."
"I know," Dean replies, and covers Castiel's body with his own as he moves up to kiss him. "I can't wait to fuck you, god, it's gonna be so fucking good," he whispers into Castiel's mouth, which goes slack on a whimper when Dean strokes him slowly. "So fucking good, I promise. Just give me a few more minutes, okay?"
Castiel nods, visibly trying to collect himself, but Dean makes it difficult when he slides his hand further down between Castiel's legs, brushes past his balls, and pushes a finger into his body. It's already slick, and Castiel clenches tightly around his finger with a small gasp.
Dean sits back again and glances down as he pulls his finger out, looking momentarily relieved when it comes out clean. Then he slides it back in and searches for the spot he knows should be there.
When he crooks his finger and finds it, Castiel's entire body spasms and he squirms around Dean's finger, pressing into it harder and panting heavily now. Dean rubs slow but firm circles into Castiel's prostate, and his other hand massages Castiel's thigh while he mouths the head of Castiel's cock, licking and sucking and tasting. It lasts for many long minutes and undoes Castiel completely, to the point where Dean has to stop teasing Castiel's cock because he's afraid he's going to come.
His lips move to the damp crease between Castiel's thigh and pelvis instead, and that's when Castiel finally breaks into a pleading litany of, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." He's writhing on the bed and struggling helplessly against the tie around his wrists, and this isn't how it's supposed to go at all but Michael can't help but be enthralled. He's never seen Castiel look this open and vulnerable before, not even when Raphael descended upon him at the prophet's house.
"Yes," Dean replies, voice dark with promise. He's more than ready now, and he moves away just for long enough to find and fumble on a condom before he's back between Castiel's legs and using both hands to lift his hips up so he can push into him.
Castiel moans raggedly and tries to hook his legs over Dean's shoulders, but they're both slippery with sweat and Dean begins thrusting so hard he dislodges Castiel's legs. They slip down so Dean holds onto them with his arms for a while, fingers digging into Castiel's calves, but it doesn't last for too long because eventually Dean has to let go so he can bend down and shove his tongue into Castiel's open mouth while he fucks him.
Like this, with the length of Dean's body rubbing against Castiel's and Castiel's cock trapped between their stomachs, Castiel squeezes his eyes shut and starts whispering what sounds like a prayer, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Dean, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Dean grunts, confused but clearly unable to stop or even slow down.
"Never come until after your client does, and only then when he lets you," Castiel recites deliriously, over and over again until the words bleed into one another and become incoherent.
Despite them, he ruts up against Dean's stomach, desperately, again and again, until Dean reaches between their bodies to squeeze the length of Castiel's cock. He whispers roughly, "I let you."
Castiel comes loudly and suddenly, and the force of his pleasure rattles even Michael. His body curls up into Dean's and he just takes and takes while Dean plunders his mouth and holds and rides him through his orgasm. Castiel can only lie there beneath him, paralyzed with pleasure and awe and making small whimpering noises. It's the most intense orgasm he can remember ever having, Michael knows, because it's the first orgasm he's ever had and the fake memories Michael gave him are nothing compared to the real thing.
Dean fucks him even harder after his body goes loose, and Castiel enjoys that too. Apparently it still feels good enough to draw the occasional murmured sound of content from him, and then Dean is coming too, clutching Castiel's body to him like rag doll and groaning his release into Castiel's neck.
There's a warm, quiet few moments afterward where Dean rests his forehead against Castiel's and Castiel kisses him lazily while he pants, and then Dean pulls out and rolls off of him to throw away the condom and find a clean towel to wipe Castiel down with. He unties Castiel next and gives him a smile, but the easy, intimate mood from earlier has evaporated.
Now Castiel won't meet his eyes as he sits up, and when Dean touches him on the knee, he tenses. He looks disconcerted and a little scared, and Michael is hopeful.
"You okay?" Dean asks.
"Fine," Castiel replies shortly, leaving Dean at a loss.
"Okay," he begins awkwardly. Then he fishes for his wallet and pulls out the money he owes Castiel. "Look, I'll leave this here, okay?" Dean says, leaving the cash on the nightstand under the glass of water he got Castiel earlier.
Castiel nods but barely even glances at it. "Thanks."
With a sigh, Dean gives up trying to figure out whatever is wrong with him and turns off the light so he can pull back the covers and settle under them for the night. "C'mon, man," he says, nudging Castiel's shoulder. "You gonna just sit there all night or what? Get in here."
Obedient as always, Castiel moves to slide under the covers. But once there, he just lies there and stares at the ceiling and doesn't touch Dean.
Dean rolls his eyes. "The way you're lying there stiff as a board, you'd think we didn't just get done having mind blowing sex. This is the part where we're supposed to sleep, you know."
"I don't sleep with clients," Castiel replies uncomfortably.
"Right, just like you don't come before clients do."
Castiel actually flinches at that, and Dean rushes to reassure him, "Whoa, whoa, it's okay, dude. I was just teasing." He waits a beat but doesn't get a reply, so he sighs. "Look, Castiel, I don't know what you think I'm gonna do to you in your sleep, but you can relax because I'm not gonna do it, okay?"
Though Castiel nods, it's clearly just an automatic response that he thinks is required of him.
Dean reaches out to cup his jaw gently and tilt Castiel's face toward his own. When Castiel is finally forced to meet his eyes in the darkness, Dean leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. Castiel doesn't kiss him back, but his eyelids flutter shut and he relaxes slightly, and that's good enough for Dean.
He drifts off shortly afterward, and true to his word, Castiel doesn't sleep with him.
Castiel is gone before Dean wakes up, but as Michael watches him go, he decides that this isn't enough to drive them apart, even for a little while. Maybe next time.
***
The next time happens exactly a week later.
"Castiel," Dean breathes when he opens his door to find Castiel standing there. That's all he manages to get out before he's pulling Castiel inside and pushing him up against the door and kissing him fervently. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually this guy and it was just going to be the once, I swear, but I've been thinking about this all fucking week."
Judging from the way Castiel melts immediately and completely against him and whispers, "It's okay," he's been thinking about it too.
Michael just thinks they're doing it wrong. Castiel isn't supposed to fall into Dean's bed as eagerly as he does, and Dean isn't supposed to touch him like he wants to give as much pleasure as he gets. It's not supposed to be passionate, but it is, and Michael isn't quite sure what to do.
Dean isn't either, after it's all over and they've cleaned up and Castiel is once again being suddenly cold to him. "Is this how it's gonna be every time?" he asks as he gets back into bed beside Castiel.
At first Castiel hesitates, but then he replies, seemingly against his better judgment, "How many times are there going to be?"
"I dunno," Dean answers with an evasive shrug, then glances sideways at Castiel. "Do you hate me for buying you? Is that why you're like this?"
"No," Castiel says, so earnestly that Dean relaxes.
"Then what's wrong?"
This time Castiel looks away and doesn't reply.
Dean sighs and asks instead, "Would you come back if you weren't in this business and I asked you to?"
Several different emotions ranging from bitterness to what Michael thinks might be wistfulness pass across Castiel's face. Eventually he settles on a quiet, "Yes."
Dean smiles ruefully. "Then at least one more time."
Castiel watches him warily, and just like before, Dean gives him a short, chaste kiss before he sleeps. Also just like before, Castiel doesn't let himself sleep.
Unlike before, Castiel watches Dean sleep.
Michael sighs and thinks again, maybe next time.
***
"Know what I've decided?" Dean asks the third time Castiel comes to his apartment, in between kissing him. "If you won't sleep with me, I'll just have to knock you out."
Castiel tenses and pulls away, and Dean rushes to add, "Not with drugs." He steps back into Castiel's personal space and makes a point to hold his gaze. "I won't ever try to drug you, I swear."
It's reluctant, but Castiel does relax, so Dean gets playful again and sucks lightly on his bottom lip as he promises in a low voice, "I'm just gonna make you come so hard you pass out, that's all."
Castiel shivers against him at the words, and Dean pushes him down onto the bed with a hand between his legs, rubbing where Castiel is already hard inside his jeans. A soft, needy noise escapes Castiel as he spreads his legs, but Dean stops touching him there and starts undressing him.
First Dean fucks him on his hands and knees, and it's hard and fast and glorious. Castiel grips the headboard so tightly his knuckles turn white and he pushes back on every thrust, always wanting more, but Dean doesn't give him more. He neglects Castiel's needs in pursuit of his own release, and after he gets it he collapses unceremoniously onto the bed.
Castiel doesn't complain, of course, and he knows better than to touch himself, but as he lies beside Dean and waits, he keeps shifting restlessly.
Eventually Dean takes mercy on him and rolls over onto his side to face Castiel so he can finger fuck him. The relentless prostate massage is enough to unravel Castiel to the point of incoherent begging, but it isn't enough to make him come, and Dean decides, quite wickedly, to drag it out for as long as he can stand to not be fucking Castiel himself. It goes on for almost half an hour.
And then Dean does fuck him again, spooned up behind Castiel and rocking into his body. The edge has already been taken off his own hunger so he takes his time, torturing Castiel so, so sweetly, and twice Castiel forgets everything and reaches down between his own legs, but both times Dean catches his hand and brings it over Castiel's shoulder so he can suck on his fingers. By the time Dean is ready to come again, Castiel has long since lost it. He heaves a dry, choked off sob when Dean finally pushes him onto his stomach and slides a hand underneath him to grip his cock, and they come together like that, with Dean writhing on top and Castiel keening into a pillow as he bucks beneath him, into Dean's hand.
Just as Dean hoped, Castiel passes out after his orgasm, and Michael is so fascinated he forgets to be disappointed that the two of them are growing closer and closer instead of further apart.
Dean holds on to Castiel while they sleep like Castiel is his prize, until Castiel wakes with a start a few hours later and jerks away from him. The movement stirs Dean awake too, and he murmurs sleepily, "Cas?"
Castiel's eyes widen as he looks down at Dean in the darkness. He's already sitting up halfway, and he looks confused and torn when Dean catches his wrist in a loose hold. It would be so easy to break away and get out of bed, but Castiel doesn't move either way until Dean tugs gently. Then he goes back into Dean's arms, resolve broken, and Dean smiles against his ear and repeats in a contented whisper, "Cas."
Dean is asleep again almost instantly, but Castiel lies awake in his loose embrace and Michael can hear him wondering what the fuck he's doing for the entire rest of the night, until Dean wakes up again in the morning and insists on driving him to his brothel because he's late in reporting back and it's cold outside.
The car ride is quiet except for Dean's music and a brief exchange about breakfast. Castiel declines and they don't speak again until he thanks Dean as he's being dropped off. Dean just smiles and says, "I'll be seeing you."
He doesn't look in the rear view mirror as he drives off, but Castiel watches the Impala until it disappears around a corner and Michael watches Castiel.
***
It goes on like this for weeks, and once a week turns into twice a week somewhere along the way. Michael thinks it's a good thing he made sure this Dean would never want for money.
Castiel seems wholly incapable of resisting Dean, a fact which troubles both himself and Michael. And Dean seems to sense that Castiel is troubled, but he doesn't know what to do about it so he just tries to be more playful and more sweet. For the most part, he only sees Castiel in his unguarded moments of simple pleasure.
It isn't just the sex that Castiel enjoys; Dean gets good at coaxing smiles out of him when he least expects it, and Castiel gives up on fighting sleep when he lies next to Dean at night. But it's talking with Dean that Castiel enjoys most, Michael thinks. It's those sated, lazy, post-coital moments when Dean touches him idly and casually and tries to warm Castiel up to him by talking about anything and everything. He talks about his brother out in California and his job at the clinic, he tells Castiel embarrassing sex stories and lewd jokes, and he's never deterred by Castiel's noncommittal responses and apparent lack of interest. The truth of it is, Castiel always listens intently, and it's not long before he starts having things to say himself. He avoids talking about his own life, but he responds to Dean and is quietly surprised but delighted whenever he draws a smile or a laugh from him. Dean smiles and laughs a lot, and he kisses Castiel a lot, and Castiel can't help but soak in all of his easy affection.
The troubled parts of Castiel's life happen when Dean isn't around to witness them.
Only Michael sees the way Castiel's face falls and then hardens when he leaves Dean's apartment or gets dropped off, and only Michael sees the self-loathing in Castiel's eyes whenever he checks to see if Dean has called to book him again. He checks often and obsessively, and when Dean's name turns up, his relief is immense and the thought gets him through his long hours with other clients. More often than not Dean's name doesn't turn up, and Castiel alternates between fretting miserably and being furious with himself for fretting miserably. Those are the times when he hates his life like he hasn't hated it since he first came to the brothel.
Sometimes Michael frets too, because it's been weeks and things still aren't happening the way they're supposed to, but he always tells himself they will. It's destiny, after all; he just has to wait for it.
***
When waiting becomes too annoying, Michael isn't above trying to speed destiny along.
Perhaps it's cruel, but Michael sends Castiel a client who drives thoughts of Dean's gentleness from his mind and leaves him curled up in his cot for two hours afterward. The pain and humiliation are enough to make Castiel dread seeing even Dean. As Michael watches Castiel drag himself to the showers, prepare himself all over again with quite a few pained grimaces, and then trudge reluctantly to Dean's apartment, he thinks, maybe this time.
Except, when Castiel gets there and sidesteps Dean's greeting to strip and crawl shakily onto Dean's bed, Dean only stands there and watches him pensively.
Castiel hasn't said a thing since he came in or even looked at Dean, and now his eyes are closed as he waits for Dean with his backside exposed. He's trembling slightly and tenses even further when Dean finally approaches, and he flinches when Dean's hand lands on his shoulder blade.
The mattress dips beneath Dean's weight as he climbs into bed beside Castiel and asks softly, with his hand still on Castiel's back, "What did they do to you, Cas?"
"Nothing that isn't in the job description," Castiel says stiffly, resting his forehead on his arms and hiding his face from Dean. When Dean doesn't reply, he bites out, "I'm fine, Dean. Fuck me already."
"Cas--"
"Just do it," Castiel snaps, roughly and like he might lose his nerve if Dean takes too long.
Dean sighs and shifts until he's behind Castiel and kneeling over him, but he doesn't start taking any of his clothes off. He touches Castiel's shoulder blade again, and Castiel flinches again.
This time, Dean uses both hands and slowly massages Castiel's shoulders and neck. There's a thick ring of skin around Castiel's neck that looks red and slightly chaffed, but he doesn't comment on it.
"Dean?" Castiel twists around to eye him uncertainly. "What--"
"Relax, Cas," Dean tells him quietly. He drops a kiss on the nape of Castiel's neck and repeats, "Just relax, okay?"
Castiel turns back around and wordlessly allows Dean to continue, but his eyes dart around in anxious confusion and he doesn't relax. The slow massage continues, with Dean's fingers kneading circles into Castiel's shoulders and back and the heels of his palms stroking up and down Castiel's body. Dean is patient and good at what he does, and Castiel is bad at distrusting him, so despite himself, Castiel eventually shifts from tense to relaxed and then from relaxed to practically melting into the mattress.
By the time Dean is finished with him and rolls him over, Castiel doesn't even have it in him to be nervous about what might happen next. He gazes indolently up at Dean, who grabs a pair of his own pajama bottoms out of a drawer and pulls them up Castiel's legs.
"But we haven't even fucked yet," Castiel points out, nevertheless lifting his hips so Dean can finish pulling up his pants.
"Change of plans," Dean tells him. He hauls Castiel off the bed and tugs a t-shirt over his head too, and there's a bit of fumbling from both of them before Castiel manages to get his arms through the sleeves. When he's dressed, Dean cups the nape of Castiel's neck with a hand and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. "Come on."
Castiel follows him unquestioningly out to the living room, but once Dean leaves him in front of the DVD collection with instructions to "Pick a movie," Castiel's eyes follow him around the kitchen where he's putting popcorn in the microwave.
A bit of his wariness has returned, and when Dean comes back with the popcorn, he blurts, "Why are you doing this?"
Dean arches his eyebrows. "Come on, Cas, if we fucked tonight I'd feel like a rapist."
Castiel frowns at the answer. "But you're paying for it." After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "And I consent."
"Stop it, Cas," Dean begins, but Castiel doesn't let him finish.
"No!" He steps up to Dean until their faces are only inches apart and insists, almost pleadingly, "Just tell me why."
"I already told you."
"No, I mean." Castiel waves a hand in the small space between them. "All of this. You keep hiring me over and over again and being too good to me and you've never told me why."
Dean shrugs. "I give a shit about you. Is that so difficult to understand?"
"It is when you could have anyone you want for a boyfriend or a girlfriend and yet you keep wasting your money on a whore," Castiel replies with an edge of bitterness.
Dean sighs and rubs at his face with a hand. "What do you want me to say, Cas? I like you. And anyway I've never been good at the relationship thing."
Castiel tilts his head to one side and studies him intently. "Why?"
"Well, I cheated on my first few girlfriends," Dean says wryly. "And the one I didn't cheat on left me because she didn't want to compete with the clinic for my time. After she left I decided she was probably right; I'm too busy for a relationship. Is that good enough for you?"
"Yes," Castiel replies with quiet reluctance. He glances away, subdued. "Okay."
"Good." Dean gives a satisfied nod. "Now pick a movie."
Castiel ends up choosing Transformers, and they watch it spooned up on the couch under a blanket. Except, Michael knows that Castiel pays little attention to the movie and a lot of attention to the way Dean holds him close and keeps him warm and safe. Even after everything, Castiel lies there like he's unsure of his welcome but determined to relish it while it lasts.
Michael doesn't expect Castiel to talk about any of the things that happened to him, but after the movie ends, Dean stumbles right into one of them by announcing that he could go for some pizza and asking if Castiel has ever been to his favorite local pizzeria.
Castiel blanches at the mention of the place and says tightly, "Yes." He's rolled over onto his back now, but he looks away from Dean.
"You can't tell me you don't like their pizza," Dean cajoles. "It's amazing."
"I wouldn't know," Castiel replies sourly.
"You just said you've been there."
"Doesn't mean I ate there."
Dean's expression becomes confused. "What did you do, then?"
Castiel tenses, but his tone is flat when he eventually says, "Nothing. I sat beside my client with my hands under the table."
"What? Why?" Dean demands.
"Part of his BDSM game, I suppose," Castiel replies with a shrug.
There's a brief silence, and Michael knows Dean is thinking about the chafe marks on Castiel's neck. Dean clears his throat. "That was today?" At Castiel's nod, he asks with a forced lightness, "Want me to go punch the motherfucker?"
Despite himself, one corner of Castiel's lips twitches. "No thanks," he replies, almost shyly.
After a moment Dean asks softly, "What else did he do?"
A grim expression passes across Castiel's face before it goes carefully blank. "Weren't you going to order pizza? You should hurry before it gets too late, I think they close soon."
Dean purses his lips but lets the subject drop, and they order the pizza. Castiel has to admit, albeit reluctantly, that it's pretty damn good pizza.
After they eat, Dean grabs a new toothbrush from under the bathroom sink for Castiel to use, and Castiel spends a long time staring at it that night and at the way it lies right next to Dean's toothbrush. He stares until Dean calls to him from bed to ask what's taking so long, and then Castiel goes and lies next to Dean in a perfect imitation of their toothbrushes.
Michael watches them and wonders how these two strange souls keep defying destiny.
***
The next time Dean and Castiel see each other, Dean doesn't even let Castiel into the apartment before he's ushering him into a warm coat and telling him, "We're going for a walk."
Castiel is clearly surprised, but he doesn't protest until they walk right up to a family diner a few blocks away from Dean's apartment. "Dean," he says with a frown, stopping just outside the door. "You don't have to--"
"Come on," Dean coaxes. "I haven't had anyone to go out to dinner with in months."
They both know whose benefit Dean is doing this for, and Michael knows too, but after a moment of staring at each other, it's Castiel who breaks their gaze first and reluctantly opens the door for Dean.
He spends the first half of dinner looking uncomfortable about everything from the price of his meal to the fact that there's someone waiting on him, but eventually he loosens up and begins enjoying himself under the combined influence of Dean's good mood and their bottle of wine.
After dinner, they head back to Dean's apartment but then he drives them to a spa with private outdoor hot tubs and rents one. Castiel ends up naked in the hot tub because he doesn't have swim trunks, and both of them like this arrangement just fine.
He's straddling Dean's lap and grinding down lazily, both of them half hard, when he suddenly murmurs, "There's something I've always wanted to know."
Dean's voice is a low purr of pleasure. "Hmm?"
"Where did you get the handprint from?"
Dean glances down at his shoulder and says wryly, "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"
"Yes," Castiel replies, quite earnestly.
A small smile stretches across Dean's lips before he elaborates, "I've had it for as long as I can remember. Could just be a creepy birthmark for all I know. Sam and I were adopted and we never met our real parents so I can't even ask them."
Castiel studies the mark and teases, "If I believed in angels, I'd probably think you were touched by one."
Dean snorts. "You've got an angel name, why don't you touch me?"
So Castiel does, placing his hand right over the handprint. It's not a perfect fit, but Dean jolts slightly at the contact, eyes widening and breath hitching. "Cas--"
Castiel lifts his eyebrows at Dean's reaction but doesn't waste any more time than that. He takes Dean's mouth with his own, and after that they're both hard and fumbling to touch each other. It's a little clumsy because Castiel keeps his right hand on the handprint and has to use his left hand to reach into Dean's trunks and stroke him, but Dean doesn't mind at all. He moans softly into Castiel's mouth as he jacks him off in return, and it doesn't take long for them to come at all, shuddering and gasping against each other in the water.
"Wow," Dean says dazedly. "That was new."
"You can't tell me no one's tried that before."
"A couple of people have tried." Dean shrugs. "Never was much of a turn-on until now."
Castiel smiles at that, and Michael thinks that maybe there's something special about Dean and Castiel after all, something that always draws them together like this despite his best efforts to tear them apart.
Even after they both come down from their orgasms, Castiel stays in his lap and Dean touches his wet skin absently, admiring the way it glistens under the moonlight and kissing him every so often. Barely fifteen minutes later, Castiel is ready to go again.
Dean chuckles at him. "You taking Viagra or something?"
A faint blush appears on Castiel's cheeks. "No. Well, occasionally if I have several clients lined up back to back, but I haven't in the past couple of days. It's this jet stream..." He takes Dean's hand and has him feel the hot stream of water surging from a spot beside Dean and angled directly at his crotch.
Dean chuckles again and works a thigh in between Castiel's to rub up against him. Castiel sighs in pleasure, and Dean lets him get off by sliding up the leg of Dean's swim trunks and frotting against the slippery skin of his thigh with his hands clutching at Dean's body and his legs twined around Dean's. Dean swallows his moan when he comes again and holds on to him long after Castiel goes limp in his arms.
It's another hour before they make it back to Dean's apartment, and then Dean takes Castiel to bed and it's the most intimate and tender experience of Castiel's life. The gentle pleasure leaves him more raw than any amount of pain ever has, and Castiel breaks apart at the seams when he comes into Dean's hand with Dean thrusting long and slow inside him. Dean comes two minutes later, and it's... perfect.
Too perfect, Michael hears in Castiel's thoughts, but Castiel doesn't have it in him to worry about that tonight.
***
Then comes the day when Dean hasn't booked him but Castiel shows up at his apartment anyway, breathless and wretched.
"I couldn't do it," he blurts as soon as the door opens, before Dean can even ask what's wrong. "He booked me again and I've been trying to work myself up to it all day but then I got to his door and just couldn't do it."
Dean doesn't even need to ask who Castiel means. All he says is, "Come in."
But Castiel's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "I can't be here. Shit, what am I doing, I'm going to be late," he says wildly, backing away from Dean. "I'm sorry, I have to go back--"
"Cas," Dean cuts in forcefully, as he grabs Castiel's elbow and tries to catch his gaze. "Are you going to calm down or should I be getting you a paper bag to breathe into?"
It takes a few moments, but Castiel's eyes stop darting around and manage to focus on Dean, and this seems to calm him somewhat, though his voice still wavers when he says, "Sorry, I'm not usually like this."
"S'okay," Dean assures him. "Come in."
"I can't, I'm already going to be late," Castiel says miserably, trying to pull his arm free.
Dean holds fast to his elbow and tugs him into the apartment anyway, promising, "I'll take care of it."
"It's not your job to take care of it," Castiel protests with a frown. "I shouldn't have come here."
"Just shut up and sit down," Dean commands, firmly but not unkindly. He manhandles Castiel over to the couch and Castiel obeys the order automatically.
A few minutes on the phone with the brothel owner, a lightly veiled threat, and a monetary bribe later, Castiel has been reassigned for the night. When he gets a call on his own phone about the change of plans, he nearly goes weak with relief.
"Thank you," he says in a small voice, sounding embarrassed.
Dean ruffles his hair affectionately. "Come on, you're just in time to help me make dinner."
He throws some extra spaghetti into the pot he just put on, puts Castiel to work making meatballs, and starts throwing together everything he needs for his homemade spaghetti sauce.
It's all quite domestic, Michael thinks, and he wonders if this is the kind of life Dean and Castiel would choose for themselves if they had free will. They both seem content enough, for the moment, and Castiel has relaxed to the point where they can have easy conversations in between casually groping each other. It's almost a shame that they can't have this, and for the first time, Michael finds himself reluctant to reach the moment when he'll have to lift the veils from their eyes. But destiny is destiny, and thinking such things is pointless, so Michael stops thinking and just waits.
After dinner, Dean fends off Castiel's advances with some difficulty and a lot of reluctance and settles on the couch with his laptop, citing all the research he has to do before he sees a patient in the morning and the fact that having an orgasm would render him useless for the rest of the night. Castiel doesn't push it, and leaves Dean to his work in favor of turning in for an early night.
Then Dean appears in bedroom doorway to say, "If you're bored you can watch--"
But Castiel is already busy entertaining himself with a hand down his briefs.
He's otherwise naked and lying back against the pillows with his head tilted up, eyes closed, and lips slightly parted, and the comforter is bunched around his knees. At Dean's voice his head snaps up and his eyes open, and a blush appears on his cheeks like he and Dean haven't just spent the past couple of months having sex dozens of times. Castiel doesn't bother to remove his hand.
For a moment Dean seems torn, but then he strides over to the bed and says in a low, gruff voice, "Turn over."
Castiel complies immediately and eagerly, rolling over onto his stomach and offering himself up to Dean.
The sight makes Dean's blood rush downward, but he doesn't fuck Castiel after he pulls down his briefs. He doesn't even unbuckle his own belt. Dean kneads his buttocks for a little while and then parts them to lick Castiel.
Castiel jerks away and twists around to ask wildly, "Dean--?"
"Shhh." Dean pulls him back and presses a kiss to his tailbone. "I've been wanting to try this for a while now."
"Why?" Castiel asks, and it comes out more a confused, terrified moan than an actual word when Dean's tongue returns, but he holds still this time, trembling gently.
Dean doesn't bother to reply and chooses instead to focus on tracing the tip of his tongue around the rim before dipping in experimentally, just past the tight ring of muscle. Castiel makes a small, helpless noise deep in his throat and buries his face in his forearms.
If Dean has any concerns about whether or not Castiel is enjoying it, they disappear as soon as he reaches around to find that Castiel is fully hard and leaking. It encourages Dean to work faster and deeper, until his tongue must be aching from the effort of flicking against Castiel and flexing inside him and Castiel is muffling whimpers. They're shameful sounds, but it doesn't stop him from writhing between Dean's hand and his tongue when he starts getting closer, and it doesn't stop him from coming hard in only a few minutes.
After his orgasm Dean kisses the small of his back and gives him a pat on the bottom, and Castiel says weakly, "I can't believe you did that willingly. I hate doing that." He doesn't quite meet Dean's eyes.
"Don't be such a prude," Dean teases. "Anyway, all I could taste was your lube, trust me."
"Do you want me to..?" Castiel asks, rolling back over and reaching for Dean's belt.
Dean shakes his head and pushes his hands away. "Nah, I've got work to do, remember?" He's hard in his jeans, but he gets off the bed and backs away. "As I was saying when I came in here, you're welcome to watch TV or grab a book if you get bored." Then he winks at Castiel and disappears out to the living room.
Castiel doesn't watch TV or read a book. Instead, he curls up around Dean's pillow and Michael watches him think about Dean for hours until he finally drifts off.
It's well past midnight when Dean finally crawls into bed beside him. He doesn't bother waking Castiel up for a romp and Castiel doesn't stir.
But in the morning, Castiel is up a good fifteen minutes before Dean's alarm goes off, so Dean wakes up to find his legs spread wide and Castiel's warm, wet mouth coaxing him into hardness. It doesn't take long at all, and Dean's voice is hoarse from sleep and arousal when he groans slightly. Castiel sucks him adoringly and with careful attention to detail, and he looks up at Dean through his lashes like there's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than down there between Dean's legs, pleasuring him.
Dean's body is still too loose and he's still too hazy to do much more than lie there uselessly and indulge in Castiel's attentions, but Castiel seems happy to do all the work. He seems even happier when he starts palming Dean's balls and Dean moans softly. Eventually Dean begins squirming beneath Castiel's mouth and his hips undulate slowly up and down, and then suddenly his fingers clench in Castiel's hair.
"Cas," he gasps. "Cas, I'm gonna come."
Castiel has the timing down perfectly and doesn't even need to finish Dean off with his hand. He sucks hard right up until the moment Dean starts coming, and that's when he pulls off to watch with a small smile of satisfaction as Dean's body arches and stretches out in ecstasy.
All Dean manages afterward is a grateful, "Whoa," between trying to catch his breath.
It brings another smile to Castiel's lips, and then he climbs off the bed to find his clothes.
Dean catches his wrist and tugs him off balance, grinning when Castiel falls into his arms and even nuzzling Castiel's ear a bit. "Stay," he murmurs. The alarm goes off then, and Dean reaches over to hit snooze.
"You have to get to work," Castiel says patiently, though he doesn't seem inclined to extract himself from Dean's embrace. "And I have to get back too."
"No, I mean." Dean's voice gets serious all of a sudden and he pulls away to look Castiel in the eye. "Don't go back there. Ever."
Castiel eyebrows draw together in confusion. "I have to."
"Just because you have a debt to pay off, right?" Dean asks impatiently. "Look, I'll pay it off for you."
"No," Castiel says immediately, pulling away and getting out of bed. He resists Dean's attempts to keep him close this time. "I can't ask you to do that."
Dean sits up. "You're not asking. I'm offering."
"Well, I can't accept it," Castiel snaps, reaching for his clothes to pull them on haphazardly. The offer has shaken him, Michael can see it in the jerkiness of his movements.
"You also can't stop me," Dean points out. But at Castiel's stricken look, he sighs. "Come on, Cas, I know how much you hate doing this, day after day, client after client, and I know some of them are brutal assholes. I can help you."
"By buying and keeping me like a pet?" Castiel sounds bitter. "I knew you were too perfect."
Dean insists with a frown, "It's not like that."
Castiel shakes his head. "Maybe you don't see it that way, but that's exactly how it is. If I need you for food and shelter--"
"It's okay to need someone, Cas," Dean interrupts him gently.
"I already need you too much!" Castiel blurts. In the surprised silence that follows, he blushes furiously and looks away. "You make me need things I stopped letting myself need years ago," he says roughly a moment later. "And you make me want things even though I know I can't have them."
Dean sucks his lower lip into his mouth and searches Castiel's face. "What do you want?"
"You," Castiel replies miserably, finally looking back at him. "A normal relationship and a normal life that doesn't involve selling myself to whoever happens to want to fuck me."
"I'm offering you all of those things."
"You think a normal relationship is one in which one person is completely dependent on the other for food and affection and everything in between?" Castiel asks incredulously. "I know you said you were bad at relationships but I've never been in one and even I can see how fucked up that is."
Dean shakes his head in frustration. "Look, Cas, we'll figure it out."
"I don't think you want to figure it out," Castiel says with a hard edge in his voice. "I think you can't keep a real relationship together so you've decided to just buy off a whore who you won't ever have to worry about leaving you and play pretend."
Even Michael thinks the words are harsh, and Dean is stung. His eyes widen, and Castiel rushes to apologize. "I didn't mean it like that--"
"Fuck you," Dean growls. Castiel flinches, but he barrels on, grabbing the money he owes Castiel for the night out of his wallet and thrusting it at him. "Take your money and get the fuck out of my apartment, then. And next time you can't deal with your life, find someone else to go running to. You win; I'm done wasting my money on whores."
"Dean," Castiel pleads, but Dean gets out of bed and shoves past him to stalk into the bathroom and slam the door.
Castiel stares after him wretchedly and stays rooted to the spot long after the sound from Dean's shower starts. Eventually he looks down at his fistful of cash with something approaching resentment and moves to leave it on the nightstand, but then he aborts the movement. Castiel needs the money, and Michael can see the shame on his face as he stuffs it into his pocket. Then Dean finishes showering, and Castiel rushes away like he's terrified Dean will come out and see him still there.
Michael feels less triumphant than he should.
***
Part 2
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Michael, Sam
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Prostitution, implied humiliation/abuse, rimming.
Word Count: ~14,800
Spoilers: 5x14 - My Bloody Valentine
Notes:
help_haiti fic #2, dedicated to dastiel_gal who got outbid in my auction but made a generous donation anyway. Many thanks to ibroketuesday, who betters everything ever (but in particular this fic). I totally jumped on the 5x14 coda bandwagon, but no one's written the rentboy!Cas version yet, right? XDSummary: Michael has a plan to break Team Free Will, and it involves turning Castiel into a rentboy.
This is how it's going to go:
Michael finds Team Free Will and gives them new lives, Dean the bi-curious chiropractor fucks Castiel the rentboy, the bitterness remains to drive a wedge between them even after Michael returns their memories, and as Dean believes Castiel jumps ship of his own volition, none are any the wiser when Michael dispatches a renegade angel for continually interfering with destiny. After Castiel is gone from Dean's life, Michael can focus on Sam. Then, finally, Dean will be ready to accept the help that he pleads for so brokenly.
Usually Michael wouldn't bother with such roundabout schemes, but he wants to help Dean -- will help Dean -- and this situation with Castiel is a delicate one. Dean likes him, and Michael must take care to not villainize himself in Dean's eyes, so he can't just smite Castiel like he smote Anna. Or at least, he can't do it before Dean thinks Castiel has left him.
Castiel won't leave him, Michael knows, but luckily, Dean has abandonment issues.
***
Technically it's only Dean's first day as a chiropractor, but he doesn't know that. For him, it's been a long and trying week at the clinic, and what was supposed to be his relaxing night out on the town almost ends in a bar fight.
Dean gets kicked out of the bar and is left to stalk angrily through the streets of Manhattan, and Michael can almost taste the pent up testosterone coursing through his veins, pushing Dean to find something to take out his aggression on. He pauses outside what he knows is a brothel to eye the neon sign speculatively, and Michael smiles to himself.
This Dean -- Dean Smith -- has never been with another man before, but he's curious. He's been thinking about it for a long time. And tonight, five beers and a fight finally push him over the edge. Normally he would go to a bar, pick someone out, and take his time, but he isn't in a normal mood.
The inside of the brothel is a dirty, dark place with more people to see him there than Dean is comfortable with, so when he finds that they do out-calls, he decides to leave and give them a ring on his way home.
***
Barely half an hour later, Castiel is standing outside his lavish apartment with a finger on the doorbell, looking out of place in his threadbare sweatshirt and faded jeans. It's freezing outside in February, and he visibly suppresses a shiver.
Dean's been waiting restlessly, a mixture of impatience and nerves, so he's brisk when he opens the door. "So you're the guy, huh?" he asks, eyeing Castiel up and down. Despite Castiel's tatty clothes, Michael can tell he likes what he sees. Castiel averts his gaze.
"I'm the guy," he agrees. "Castiel."
"Yeah, they told me," Dean says, stepping aside and letting Castiel in. "I'm Dean."
Castiel closes the door behind him and looks up. "Did they tell you the terms?"
"Five hundred for the night, no barebacking, scarring, or bruising, right?"
When Castiel smiles, it's thin and no warmth reaches his eyes, but his lips feel warm enough when they find Dean's. "So, Dean," he murmurs. "Tell me what you want."
Dean presses his body flush against Castiel's to maneuver him toward the bedroom at the end of the hall, and Castiel lets him. Apparently that isn't what Dean wants. "Not gonna give in without a fight, are you, Castiel?" he asks in a low voice, nipping none too gently at Castiel's lower lip as he does so.
For a moment Castiel hesitates, but then he shoves Dean away. Dean stands at arm's length for just long enough to allow himself a slow, wicked grin before he's back on Castiel and the two of them are attacking each other, mashing their mouths and bodies together and slamming each other against the walls as their fingers tear at clothes. They don't pause except for that fraction of a second after Castiel gets Dean's shirt off when his eyes fall to the handprint-shaped scar on Dean's arm, and then he's distracted by Dean nipping at his neck. It's amusing to watch and Michael is almost impressed they make it into the bedroom and manage to turn a light on at all.
Castiel is thinner and slightly shorter than Dean, but he's a scrappy fellow and he gives as good as he gets. He actually manages to trip and throw Dean onto the bed. Dean is sweating and heaving by the time their struggle ends with Castiel pressed back against the pillows and Dean straddling his waist, both half naked already. Dean uses a tie to strap Castiel's wrists to one of the bars in the headboard, and he gives Castiel a triumphant, possessive look.
The look on Castiel's face is a guarded one, and now that they've gone still, the only sound in the room is their heavy panting as they stare at each other, measuring, waiting.
It's Dean who moves first, seeing as Castiel can't do much. He's hard already, and he clearly doesn't want to wait any longer, so he pushes down his jeans and rolls on a condom and says hoarsely, "Suck me."
Castiel licks his lips and opens his mouth resignedly, and Dean shifts up his body to slide his cock between those wet lips. When they close around him, he groans softly and grabs on to the headboard with both hands. Michael feels a thrum of pleasure as well, the kind that comes from seeing everything fall into its rightful place in the big picture.
But then something not quite right happens. Dean barely pushes halfway in before he looks down and hesitates. "I'm not choking you, am I?"
Michael wants him to be rougher, crueler, and judging from the way Castiel raises his eyebrows, he was expecting the same. Instead of answering with words, he pointedly lifts his head to take Dean all the way in, and it's Dean who almost chokes.
His thrusts are hurried but shallow, and he makes fucking someone's mouth look almost considerate. Dean never slams his hips into Castiel's face or smashes Castiel's head down into the pillow; even when his movements grow frantic and his thighs start quivering from the effort of holding himself up against the onslaught of pleasure, he stays where he is, where Castiel always has room to pull back if he needs to.
And Castiel is grateful, Michael can tell. He bobs his head in time with Dean's thrusts even though it must strain his neck, up when Dean pushes down and down when Dean pulls up, and he sucks so hard his cheeks hollow out and Michael can see the outline of his tongue constantly stroking and swirling inside his mouth.
"I'm going to--" Dean gasps, far too soon and probably forgetting that it's not like Castiel's going to get a mouthful anyway. "Castiel, god, I'm gonna--"
Then he does, finally letting go of the headboard with one hand and curling his fingers in Castiel's hair as he comes inside his mouth with a low, guttural moan. Dean throws his head back and goes still, suspended in a perfect moment of ecstasy, and Castiel's lips gentle around him as he dry swallows and brings Dean back down with his soft suckling. Dean enjoys the treatment for as long as he can, until he gets too sensitive and has to pull back.
When Dean gets off of Castiel and collapses beside him, Castiel seems almost disappointed, and Michael is disappointed too. Maybe next time, he thinks. The night is long from over.
It takes Dean a few moments to catch his breath, and then he says to the ceiling, "Wow. I guess whoever said guys give better head than chicks do was right."
Castiel's arms are still tied above his head so he can't see Dean very well, but he turns his head to try anyway. "You've only been with women before?" he asks, voice deeper than before and much raspier.
Dean glances over sheepishly. "You want some water, dude?"
The offer clearly surprises Castiel, but he nods cautiously. "Yes, I'd like that."
"Hang on." Dean rolls off the bed, shucks off the condom as well as the jeans and boxers tangled around his knees, and goes to fetch Castiel a glass of water. When he returns, Castiel has scooted up against the pillows a bit and he holds the glass to Castiel's lips, saying with a small grin, "I'd untie you, but, you know. I kinda like you like this."
Castiel drinks and doesn't bother to reply, and after he's had enough, Dean sets the glass down on the nightstand and kisses him, an unhurried exploration of his mouth. "You're my first guy," he says, answering Castiel's earlier question. "Can I touch you?"
"I'm clearly your first whore, too," Castiel replies with a faint snort, a hint of derision curling around the word whore. "You bought me, Dean. You can do what you like with me as long as you don't violate the rules."
Dean pulls back with a frown, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I've turned into that creepy asshole with a sex slave fantasy, haven't I?" he says slowly, like it's just dawned on him.
For a moment it looks like Castiel wants to say, yes, you have, but then he gives an equally uncomfortable shrug and glances away. After it becomes clear Dean isn't going to say more, he finds Dean's gaze again. "Yes, you can touch me," he says tiredly.
Still, Dean doesn't make a move.
Castiel sighs. "Look, Dean, as far as I can tell you're not nearly as much of a creepy asshole as most. I'd probably be in worse hands right now if you hadn't called, so think of it as doing me a favor if it makes you feel better."
"If I wanted to do you a favor I'd give you the night off," Dean points out.
"Right," Castiel snorts. "Because when a guy is only good for fucking, what he really wants is to be bought and to then have his client decide he's not even worth fucking."
Dean frowns again. "It's not like that."
"Then touch me." Castiel sounds defiant. Challenging, even.
There's a moment of hesitation, but then Dean does, climbing on top of Castiel to kiss him tentatively. Castiel responds encouragingly, and Dean gets bolder, letting his hands roam over Castiel's body and drinking in all the bare skin from his waist up. If Michael thought he was being considerate before, now all of Dean's earlier aggression has been spent and he's downright careful in the way his fingertips feel out all the hard places on Castiel's chest where he's used to softness, in the way his tongue traces the arteries in Castiel's neck, in the way his mouth closes over Castiel's Adam's apple and sucks. But there's nothing Michael can do to fix it now, so he simply watches as Castiel bares even more of his throat, offering it up to Dean like a sacrifice. Dean moves on to nip at his collarbones and stroke the faint ridges of his ribs.
It takes him a good ten minutes just to explore above the waist, and then Dean pauses with a hand on Castiel's fly. He glances up like he's seeking permission, and even though Castiel says nothing, the dark, hungry look in his eyes is apparently all Dean needs.
Dean undoes his jeans and slides them off of Castiel along with his briefs, then sits back on his heels between Castiel's legs and takes his time just looking at Castiel's naked body. Castiel closes his eyes and waits while Dean looks at him, at his swollen lips and mussed up hair and the hard line of his cock resting against his stomach.
Tentatively, so very tentatively, Dean reaches out to wrap his hand around it, and Castiel's body shudders beneath him. His eyes fly open and he breathes, "Dean."
"I know," Dean replies, and covers Castiel's body with his own as he moves up to kiss him. "I can't wait to fuck you, god, it's gonna be so fucking good," he whispers into Castiel's mouth, which goes slack on a whimper when Dean strokes him slowly. "So fucking good, I promise. Just give me a few more minutes, okay?"
Castiel nods, visibly trying to collect himself, but Dean makes it difficult when he slides his hand further down between Castiel's legs, brushes past his balls, and pushes a finger into his body. It's already slick, and Castiel clenches tightly around his finger with a small gasp.
Dean sits back again and glances down as he pulls his finger out, looking momentarily relieved when it comes out clean. Then he slides it back in and searches for the spot he knows should be there.
When he crooks his finger and finds it, Castiel's entire body spasms and he squirms around Dean's finger, pressing into it harder and panting heavily now. Dean rubs slow but firm circles into Castiel's prostate, and his other hand massages Castiel's thigh while he mouths the head of Castiel's cock, licking and sucking and tasting. It lasts for many long minutes and undoes Castiel completely, to the point where Dean has to stop teasing Castiel's cock because he's afraid he's going to come.
His lips move to the damp crease between Castiel's thigh and pelvis instead, and that's when Castiel finally breaks into a pleading litany of, "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." He's writhing on the bed and struggling helplessly against the tie around his wrists, and this isn't how it's supposed to go at all but Michael can't help but be enthralled. He's never seen Castiel look this open and vulnerable before, not even when Raphael descended upon him at the prophet's house.
"Yes," Dean replies, voice dark with promise. He's more than ready now, and he moves away just for long enough to find and fumble on a condom before he's back between Castiel's legs and using both hands to lift his hips up so he can push into him.
Castiel moans raggedly and tries to hook his legs over Dean's shoulders, but they're both slippery with sweat and Dean begins thrusting so hard he dislodges Castiel's legs. They slip down so Dean holds onto them with his arms for a while, fingers digging into Castiel's calves, but it doesn't last for too long because eventually Dean has to let go so he can bend down and shove his tongue into Castiel's open mouth while he fucks him.
Like this, with the length of Dean's body rubbing against Castiel's and Castiel's cock trapped between their stomachs, Castiel squeezes his eyes shut and starts whispering what sounds like a prayer, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Dean, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Dean grunts, confused but clearly unable to stop or even slow down.
"Never come until after your client does, and only then when he lets you," Castiel recites deliriously, over and over again until the words bleed into one another and become incoherent.
Despite them, he ruts up against Dean's stomach, desperately, again and again, until Dean reaches between their bodies to squeeze the length of Castiel's cock. He whispers roughly, "I let you."
Castiel comes loudly and suddenly, and the force of his pleasure rattles even Michael. His body curls up into Dean's and he just takes and takes while Dean plunders his mouth and holds and rides him through his orgasm. Castiel can only lie there beneath him, paralyzed with pleasure and awe and making small whimpering noises. It's the most intense orgasm he can remember ever having, Michael knows, because it's the first orgasm he's ever had and the fake memories Michael gave him are nothing compared to the real thing.
Dean fucks him even harder after his body goes loose, and Castiel enjoys that too. Apparently it still feels good enough to draw the occasional murmured sound of content from him, and then Dean is coming too, clutching Castiel's body to him like rag doll and groaning his release into Castiel's neck.
There's a warm, quiet few moments afterward where Dean rests his forehead against Castiel's and Castiel kisses him lazily while he pants, and then Dean pulls out and rolls off of him to throw away the condom and find a clean towel to wipe Castiel down with. He unties Castiel next and gives him a smile, but the easy, intimate mood from earlier has evaporated.
Now Castiel won't meet his eyes as he sits up, and when Dean touches him on the knee, he tenses. He looks disconcerted and a little scared, and Michael is hopeful.
"You okay?" Dean asks.
"Fine," Castiel replies shortly, leaving Dean at a loss.
"Okay," he begins awkwardly. Then he fishes for his wallet and pulls out the money he owes Castiel. "Look, I'll leave this here, okay?" Dean says, leaving the cash on the nightstand under the glass of water he got Castiel earlier.
Castiel nods but barely even glances at it. "Thanks."
With a sigh, Dean gives up trying to figure out whatever is wrong with him and turns off the light so he can pull back the covers and settle under them for the night. "C'mon, man," he says, nudging Castiel's shoulder. "You gonna just sit there all night or what? Get in here."
Obedient as always, Castiel moves to slide under the covers. But once there, he just lies there and stares at the ceiling and doesn't touch Dean.
Dean rolls his eyes. "The way you're lying there stiff as a board, you'd think we didn't just get done having mind blowing sex. This is the part where we're supposed to sleep, you know."
"I don't sleep with clients," Castiel replies uncomfortably.
"Right, just like you don't come before clients do."
Castiel actually flinches at that, and Dean rushes to reassure him, "Whoa, whoa, it's okay, dude. I was just teasing." He waits a beat but doesn't get a reply, so he sighs. "Look, Castiel, I don't know what you think I'm gonna do to you in your sleep, but you can relax because I'm not gonna do it, okay?"
Though Castiel nods, it's clearly just an automatic response that he thinks is required of him.
Dean reaches out to cup his jaw gently and tilt Castiel's face toward his own. When Castiel is finally forced to meet his eyes in the darkness, Dean leans in and presses a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. Castiel doesn't kiss him back, but his eyelids flutter shut and he relaxes slightly, and that's good enough for Dean.
He drifts off shortly afterward, and true to his word, Castiel doesn't sleep with him.
Castiel is gone before Dean wakes up, but as Michael watches him go, he decides that this isn't enough to drive them apart, even for a little while. Maybe next time.
***
The next time happens exactly a week later.
"Castiel," Dean breathes when he opens his door to find Castiel standing there. That's all he manages to get out before he's pulling Castiel inside and pushing him up against the door and kissing him fervently. "I'm sorry, I'm not usually this guy and it was just going to be the once, I swear, but I've been thinking about this all fucking week."
Judging from the way Castiel melts immediately and completely against him and whispers, "It's okay," he's been thinking about it too.
Michael just thinks they're doing it wrong. Castiel isn't supposed to fall into Dean's bed as eagerly as he does, and Dean isn't supposed to touch him like he wants to give as much pleasure as he gets. It's not supposed to be passionate, but it is, and Michael isn't quite sure what to do.
Dean isn't either, after it's all over and they've cleaned up and Castiel is once again being suddenly cold to him. "Is this how it's gonna be every time?" he asks as he gets back into bed beside Castiel.
At first Castiel hesitates, but then he replies, seemingly against his better judgment, "How many times are there going to be?"
"I dunno," Dean answers with an evasive shrug, then glances sideways at Castiel. "Do you hate me for buying you? Is that why you're like this?"
"No," Castiel says, so earnestly that Dean relaxes.
"Then what's wrong?"
This time Castiel looks away and doesn't reply.
Dean sighs and asks instead, "Would you come back if you weren't in this business and I asked you to?"
Several different emotions ranging from bitterness to what Michael thinks might be wistfulness pass across Castiel's face. Eventually he settles on a quiet, "Yes."
Dean smiles ruefully. "Then at least one more time."
Castiel watches him warily, and just like before, Dean gives him a short, chaste kiss before he sleeps. Also just like before, Castiel doesn't let himself sleep.
Unlike before, Castiel watches Dean sleep.
Michael sighs and thinks again, maybe next time.
***
"Know what I've decided?" Dean asks the third time Castiel comes to his apartment, in between kissing him. "If you won't sleep with me, I'll just have to knock you out."
Castiel tenses and pulls away, and Dean rushes to add, "Not with drugs." He steps back into Castiel's personal space and makes a point to hold his gaze. "I won't ever try to drug you, I swear."
It's reluctant, but Castiel does relax, so Dean gets playful again and sucks lightly on his bottom lip as he promises in a low voice, "I'm just gonna make you come so hard you pass out, that's all."
Castiel shivers against him at the words, and Dean pushes him down onto the bed with a hand between his legs, rubbing where Castiel is already hard inside his jeans. A soft, needy noise escapes Castiel as he spreads his legs, but Dean stops touching him there and starts undressing him.
First Dean fucks him on his hands and knees, and it's hard and fast and glorious. Castiel grips the headboard so tightly his knuckles turn white and he pushes back on every thrust, always wanting more, but Dean doesn't give him more. He neglects Castiel's needs in pursuit of his own release, and after he gets it he collapses unceremoniously onto the bed.
Castiel doesn't complain, of course, and he knows better than to touch himself, but as he lies beside Dean and waits, he keeps shifting restlessly.
Eventually Dean takes mercy on him and rolls over onto his side to face Castiel so he can finger fuck him. The relentless prostate massage is enough to unravel Castiel to the point of incoherent begging, but it isn't enough to make him come, and Dean decides, quite wickedly, to drag it out for as long as he can stand to not be fucking Castiel himself. It goes on for almost half an hour.
And then Dean does fuck him again, spooned up behind Castiel and rocking into his body. The edge has already been taken off his own hunger so he takes his time, torturing Castiel so, so sweetly, and twice Castiel forgets everything and reaches down between his own legs, but both times Dean catches his hand and brings it over Castiel's shoulder so he can suck on his fingers. By the time Dean is ready to come again, Castiel has long since lost it. He heaves a dry, choked off sob when Dean finally pushes him onto his stomach and slides a hand underneath him to grip his cock, and they come together like that, with Dean writhing on top and Castiel keening into a pillow as he bucks beneath him, into Dean's hand.
Just as Dean hoped, Castiel passes out after his orgasm, and Michael is so fascinated he forgets to be disappointed that the two of them are growing closer and closer instead of further apart.
Dean holds on to Castiel while they sleep like Castiel is his prize, until Castiel wakes with a start a few hours later and jerks away from him. The movement stirs Dean awake too, and he murmurs sleepily, "Cas?"
Castiel's eyes widen as he looks down at Dean in the darkness. He's already sitting up halfway, and he looks confused and torn when Dean catches his wrist in a loose hold. It would be so easy to break away and get out of bed, but Castiel doesn't move either way until Dean tugs gently. Then he goes back into Dean's arms, resolve broken, and Dean smiles against his ear and repeats in a contented whisper, "Cas."
Dean is asleep again almost instantly, but Castiel lies awake in his loose embrace and Michael can hear him wondering what the fuck he's doing for the entire rest of the night, until Dean wakes up again in the morning and insists on driving him to his brothel because he's late in reporting back and it's cold outside.
The car ride is quiet except for Dean's music and a brief exchange about breakfast. Castiel declines and they don't speak again until he thanks Dean as he's being dropped off. Dean just smiles and says, "I'll be seeing you."
He doesn't look in the rear view mirror as he drives off, but Castiel watches the Impala until it disappears around a corner and Michael watches Castiel.
***
It goes on like this for weeks, and once a week turns into twice a week somewhere along the way. Michael thinks it's a good thing he made sure this Dean would never want for money.
Castiel seems wholly incapable of resisting Dean, a fact which troubles both himself and Michael. And Dean seems to sense that Castiel is troubled, but he doesn't know what to do about it so he just tries to be more playful and more sweet. For the most part, he only sees Castiel in his unguarded moments of simple pleasure.
It isn't just the sex that Castiel enjoys; Dean gets good at coaxing smiles out of him when he least expects it, and Castiel gives up on fighting sleep when he lies next to Dean at night. But it's talking with Dean that Castiel enjoys most, Michael thinks. It's those sated, lazy, post-coital moments when Dean touches him idly and casually and tries to warm Castiel up to him by talking about anything and everything. He talks about his brother out in California and his job at the clinic, he tells Castiel embarrassing sex stories and lewd jokes, and he's never deterred by Castiel's noncommittal responses and apparent lack of interest. The truth of it is, Castiel always listens intently, and it's not long before he starts having things to say himself. He avoids talking about his own life, but he responds to Dean and is quietly surprised but delighted whenever he draws a smile or a laugh from him. Dean smiles and laughs a lot, and he kisses Castiel a lot, and Castiel can't help but soak in all of his easy affection.
The troubled parts of Castiel's life happen when Dean isn't around to witness them.
Only Michael sees the way Castiel's face falls and then hardens when he leaves Dean's apartment or gets dropped off, and only Michael sees the self-loathing in Castiel's eyes whenever he checks to see if Dean has called to book him again. He checks often and obsessively, and when Dean's name turns up, his relief is immense and the thought gets him through his long hours with other clients. More often than not Dean's name doesn't turn up, and Castiel alternates between fretting miserably and being furious with himself for fretting miserably. Those are the times when he hates his life like he hasn't hated it since he first came to the brothel.
Sometimes Michael frets too, because it's been weeks and things still aren't happening the way they're supposed to, but he always tells himself they will. It's destiny, after all; he just has to wait for it.
***
When waiting becomes too annoying, Michael isn't above trying to speed destiny along.
Perhaps it's cruel, but Michael sends Castiel a client who drives thoughts of Dean's gentleness from his mind and leaves him curled up in his cot for two hours afterward. The pain and humiliation are enough to make Castiel dread seeing even Dean. As Michael watches Castiel drag himself to the showers, prepare himself all over again with quite a few pained grimaces, and then trudge reluctantly to Dean's apartment, he thinks, maybe this time.
Except, when Castiel gets there and sidesteps Dean's greeting to strip and crawl shakily onto Dean's bed, Dean only stands there and watches him pensively.
Castiel hasn't said a thing since he came in or even looked at Dean, and now his eyes are closed as he waits for Dean with his backside exposed. He's trembling slightly and tenses even further when Dean finally approaches, and he flinches when Dean's hand lands on his shoulder blade.
The mattress dips beneath Dean's weight as he climbs into bed beside Castiel and asks softly, with his hand still on Castiel's back, "What did they do to you, Cas?"
"Nothing that isn't in the job description," Castiel says stiffly, resting his forehead on his arms and hiding his face from Dean. When Dean doesn't reply, he bites out, "I'm fine, Dean. Fuck me already."
"Cas--"
"Just do it," Castiel snaps, roughly and like he might lose his nerve if Dean takes too long.
Dean sighs and shifts until he's behind Castiel and kneeling over him, but he doesn't start taking any of his clothes off. He touches Castiel's shoulder blade again, and Castiel flinches again.
This time, Dean uses both hands and slowly massages Castiel's shoulders and neck. There's a thick ring of skin around Castiel's neck that looks red and slightly chaffed, but he doesn't comment on it.
"Dean?" Castiel twists around to eye him uncertainly. "What--"
"Relax, Cas," Dean tells him quietly. He drops a kiss on the nape of Castiel's neck and repeats, "Just relax, okay?"
Castiel turns back around and wordlessly allows Dean to continue, but his eyes dart around in anxious confusion and he doesn't relax. The slow massage continues, with Dean's fingers kneading circles into Castiel's shoulders and back and the heels of his palms stroking up and down Castiel's body. Dean is patient and good at what he does, and Castiel is bad at distrusting him, so despite himself, Castiel eventually shifts from tense to relaxed and then from relaxed to practically melting into the mattress.
By the time Dean is finished with him and rolls him over, Castiel doesn't even have it in him to be nervous about what might happen next. He gazes indolently up at Dean, who grabs a pair of his own pajama bottoms out of a drawer and pulls them up Castiel's legs.
"But we haven't even fucked yet," Castiel points out, nevertheless lifting his hips so Dean can finish pulling up his pants.
"Change of plans," Dean tells him. He hauls Castiel off the bed and tugs a t-shirt over his head too, and there's a bit of fumbling from both of them before Castiel manages to get his arms through the sleeves. When he's dressed, Dean cups the nape of Castiel's neck with a hand and presses a quick kiss to his forehead. "Come on."
Castiel follows him unquestioningly out to the living room, but once Dean leaves him in front of the DVD collection with instructions to "Pick a movie," Castiel's eyes follow him around the kitchen where he's putting popcorn in the microwave.
A bit of his wariness has returned, and when Dean comes back with the popcorn, he blurts, "Why are you doing this?"
Dean arches his eyebrows. "Come on, Cas, if we fucked tonight I'd feel like a rapist."
Castiel frowns at the answer. "But you're paying for it." After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "And I consent."
"Stop it, Cas," Dean begins, but Castiel doesn't let him finish.
"No!" He steps up to Dean until their faces are only inches apart and insists, almost pleadingly, "Just tell me why."
"I already told you."
"No, I mean." Castiel waves a hand in the small space between them. "All of this. You keep hiring me over and over again and being too good to me and you've never told me why."
Dean shrugs. "I give a shit about you. Is that so difficult to understand?"
"It is when you could have anyone you want for a boyfriend or a girlfriend and yet you keep wasting your money on a whore," Castiel replies with an edge of bitterness.
Dean sighs and rubs at his face with a hand. "What do you want me to say, Cas? I like you. And anyway I've never been good at the relationship thing."
Castiel tilts his head to one side and studies him intently. "Why?"
"Well, I cheated on my first few girlfriends," Dean says wryly. "And the one I didn't cheat on left me because she didn't want to compete with the clinic for my time. After she left I decided she was probably right; I'm too busy for a relationship. Is that good enough for you?"
"Yes," Castiel replies with quiet reluctance. He glances away, subdued. "Okay."
"Good." Dean gives a satisfied nod. "Now pick a movie."
Castiel ends up choosing Transformers, and they watch it spooned up on the couch under a blanket. Except, Michael knows that Castiel pays little attention to the movie and a lot of attention to the way Dean holds him close and keeps him warm and safe. Even after everything, Castiel lies there like he's unsure of his welcome but determined to relish it while it lasts.
Michael doesn't expect Castiel to talk about any of the things that happened to him, but after the movie ends, Dean stumbles right into one of them by announcing that he could go for some pizza and asking if Castiel has ever been to his favorite local pizzeria.
Castiel blanches at the mention of the place and says tightly, "Yes." He's rolled over onto his back now, but he looks away from Dean.
"You can't tell me you don't like their pizza," Dean cajoles. "It's amazing."
"I wouldn't know," Castiel replies sourly.
"You just said you've been there."
"Doesn't mean I ate there."
Dean's expression becomes confused. "What did you do, then?"
Castiel tenses, but his tone is flat when he eventually says, "Nothing. I sat beside my client with my hands under the table."
"What? Why?" Dean demands.
"Part of his BDSM game, I suppose," Castiel replies with a shrug.
There's a brief silence, and Michael knows Dean is thinking about the chafe marks on Castiel's neck. Dean clears his throat. "That was today?" At Castiel's nod, he asks with a forced lightness, "Want me to go punch the motherfucker?"
Despite himself, one corner of Castiel's lips twitches. "No thanks," he replies, almost shyly.
After a moment Dean asks softly, "What else did he do?"
A grim expression passes across Castiel's face before it goes carefully blank. "Weren't you going to order pizza? You should hurry before it gets too late, I think they close soon."
Dean purses his lips but lets the subject drop, and they order the pizza. Castiel has to admit, albeit reluctantly, that it's pretty damn good pizza.
After they eat, Dean grabs a new toothbrush from under the bathroom sink for Castiel to use, and Castiel spends a long time staring at it that night and at the way it lies right next to Dean's toothbrush. He stares until Dean calls to him from bed to ask what's taking so long, and then Castiel goes and lies next to Dean in a perfect imitation of their toothbrushes.
Michael watches them and wonders how these two strange souls keep defying destiny.
***
The next time Dean and Castiel see each other, Dean doesn't even let Castiel into the apartment before he's ushering him into a warm coat and telling him, "We're going for a walk."
Castiel is clearly surprised, but he doesn't protest until they walk right up to a family diner a few blocks away from Dean's apartment. "Dean," he says with a frown, stopping just outside the door. "You don't have to--"
"Come on," Dean coaxes. "I haven't had anyone to go out to dinner with in months."
They both know whose benefit Dean is doing this for, and Michael knows too, but after a moment of staring at each other, it's Castiel who breaks their gaze first and reluctantly opens the door for Dean.
He spends the first half of dinner looking uncomfortable about everything from the price of his meal to the fact that there's someone waiting on him, but eventually he loosens up and begins enjoying himself under the combined influence of Dean's good mood and their bottle of wine.
After dinner, they head back to Dean's apartment but then he drives them to a spa with private outdoor hot tubs and rents one. Castiel ends up naked in the hot tub because he doesn't have swim trunks, and both of them like this arrangement just fine.
He's straddling Dean's lap and grinding down lazily, both of them half hard, when he suddenly murmurs, "There's something I've always wanted to know."
Dean's voice is a low purr of pleasure. "Hmm?"
"Where did you get the handprint from?"
Dean glances down at his shoulder and says wryly, "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"
"Yes," Castiel replies, quite earnestly.
A small smile stretches across Dean's lips before he elaborates, "I've had it for as long as I can remember. Could just be a creepy birthmark for all I know. Sam and I were adopted and we never met our real parents so I can't even ask them."
Castiel studies the mark and teases, "If I believed in angels, I'd probably think you were touched by one."
Dean snorts. "You've got an angel name, why don't you touch me?"
So Castiel does, placing his hand right over the handprint. It's not a perfect fit, but Dean jolts slightly at the contact, eyes widening and breath hitching. "Cas--"
Castiel lifts his eyebrows at Dean's reaction but doesn't waste any more time than that. He takes Dean's mouth with his own, and after that they're both hard and fumbling to touch each other. It's a little clumsy because Castiel keeps his right hand on the handprint and has to use his left hand to reach into Dean's trunks and stroke him, but Dean doesn't mind at all. He moans softly into Castiel's mouth as he jacks him off in return, and it doesn't take long for them to come at all, shuddering and gasping against each other in the water.
"Wow," Dean says dazedly. "That was new."
"You can't tell me no one's tried that before."
"A couple of people have tried." Dean shrugs. "Never was much of a turn-on until now."
Castiel smiles at that, and Michael thinks that maybe there's something special about Dean and Castiel after all, something that always draws them together like this despite his best efforts to tear them apart.
Even after they both come down from their orgasms, Castiel stays in his lap and Dean touches his wet skin absently, admiring the way it glistens under the moonlight and kissing him every so often. Barely fifteen minutes later, Castiel is ready to go again.
Dean chuckles at him. "You taking Viagra or something?"
A faint blush appears on Castiel's cheeks. "No. Well, occasionally if I have several clients lined up back to back, but I haven't in the past couple of days. It's this jet stream..." He takes Dean's hand and has him feel the hot stream of water surging from a spot beside Dean and angled directly at his crotch.
Dean chuckles again and works a thigh in between Castiel's to rub up against him. Castiel sighs in pleasure, and Dean lets him get off by sliding up the leg of Dean's swim trunks and frotting against the slippery skin of his thigh with his hands clutching at Dean's body and his legs twined around Dean's. Dean swallows his moan when he comes again and holds on to him long after Castiel goes limp in his arms.
It's another hour before they make it back to Dean's apartment, and then Dean takes Castiel to bed and it's the most intimate and tender experience of Castiel's life. The gentle pleasure leaves him more raw than any amount of pain ever has, and Castiel breaks apart at the seams when he comes into Dean's hand with Dean thrusting long and slow inside him. Dean comes two minutes later, and it's... perfect.
Too perfect, Michael hears in Castiel's thoughts, but Castiel doesn't have it in him to worry about that tonight.
***
Then comes the day when Dean hasn't booked him but Castiel shows up at his apartment anyway, breathless and wretched.
"I couldn't do it," he blurts as soon as the door opens, before Dean can even ask what's wrong. "He booked me again and I've been trying to work myself up to it all day but then I got to his door and just couldn't do it."
Dean doesn't even need to ask who Castiel means. All he says is, "Come in."
But Castiel's eyes widen and he shakes his head. "I can't be here. Shit, what am I doing, I'm going to be late," he says wildly, backing away from Dean. "I'm sorry, I have to go back--"
"Cas," Dean cuts in forcefully, as he grabs Castiel's elbow and tries to catch his gaze. "Are you going to calm down or should I be getting you a paper bag to breathe into?"
It takes a few moments, but Castiel's eyes stop darting around and manage to focus on Dean, and this seems to calm him somewhat, though his voice still wavers when he says, "Sorry, I'm not usually like this."
"S'okay," Dean assures him. "Come in."
"I can't, I'm already going to be late," Castiel says miserably, trying to pull his arm free.
Dean holds fast to his elbow and tugs him into the apartment anyway, promising, "I'll take care of it."
"It's not your job to take care of it," Castiel protests with a frown. "I shouldn't have come here."
"Just shut up and sit down," Dean commands, firmly but not unkindly. He manhandles Castiel over to the couch and Castiel obeys the order automatically.
A few minutes on the phone with the brothel owner, a lightly veiled threat, and a monetary bribe later, Castiel has been reassigned for the night. When he gets a call on his own phone about the change of plans, he nearly goes weak with relief.
"Thank you," he says in a small voice, sounding embarrassed.
Dean ruffles his hair affectionately. "Come on, you're just in time to help me make dinner."
He throws some extra spaghetti into the pot he just put on, puts Castiel to work making meatballs, and starts throwing together everything he needs for his homemade spaghetti sauce.
It's all quite domestic, Michael thinks, and he wonders if this is the kind of life Dean and Castiel would choose for themselves if they had free will. They both seem content enough, for the moment, and Castiel has relaxed to the point where they can have easy conversations in between casually groping each other. It's almost a shame that they can't have this, and for the first time, Michael finds himself reluctant to reach the moment when he'll have to lift the veils from their eyes. But destiny is destiny, and thinking such things is pointless, so Michael stops thinking and just waits.
After dinner, Dean fends off Castiel's advances with some difficulty and a lot of reluctance and settles on the couch with his laptop, citing all the research he has to do before he sees a patient in the morning and the fact that having an orgasm would render him useless for the rest of the night. Castiel doesn't push it, and leaves Dean to his work in favor of turning in for an early night.
Then Dean appears in bedroom doorway to say, "If you're bored you can watch--"
But Castiel is already busy entertaining himself with a hand down his briefs.
He's otherwise naked and lying back against the pillows with his head tilted up, eyes closed, and lips slightly parted, and the comforter is bunched around his knees. At Dean's voice his head snaps up and his eyes open, and a blush appears on his cheeks like he and Dean haven't just spent the past couple of months having sex dozens of times. Castiel doesn't bother to remove his hand.
For a moment Dean seems torn, but then he strides over to the bed and says in a low, gruff voice, "Turn over."
Castiel complies immediately and eagerly, rolling over onto his stomach and offering himself up to Dean.
The sight makes Dean's blood rush downward, but he doesn't fuck Castiel after he pulls down his briefs. He doesn't even unbuckle his own belt. Dean kneads his buttocks for a little while and then parts them to lick Castiel.
Castiel jerks away and twists around to ask wildly, "Dean--?"
"Shhh." Dean pulls him back and presses a kiss to his tailbone. "I've been wanting to try this for a while now."
"Why?" Castiel asks, and it comes out more a confused, terrified moan than an actual word when Dean's tongue returns, but he holds still this time, trembling gently.
Dean doesn't bother to reply and chooses instead to focus on tracing the tip of his tongue around the rim before dipping in experimentally, just past the tight ring of muscle. Castiel makes a small, helpless noise deep in his throat and buries his face in his forearms.
If Dean has any concerns about whether or not Castiel is enjoying it, they disappear as soon as he reaches around to find that Castiel is fully hard and leaking. It encourages Dean to work faster and deeper, until his tongue must be aching from the effort of flicking against Castiel and flexing inside him and Castiel is muffling whimpers. They're shameful sounds, but it doesn't stop him from writhing between Dean's hand and his tongue when he starts getting closer, and it doesn't stop him from coming hard in only a few minutes.
After his orgasm Dean kisses the small of his back and gives him a pat on the bottom, and Castiel says weakly, "I can't believe you did that willingly. I hate doing that." He doesn't quite meet Dean's eyes.
"Don't be such a prude," Dean teases. "Anyway, all I could taste was your lube, trust me."
"Do you want me to..?" Castiel asks, rolling back over and reaching for Dean's belt.
Dean shakes his head and pushes his hands away. "Nah, I've got work to do, remember?" He's hard in his jeans, but he gets off the bed and backs away. "As I was saying when I came in here, you're welcome to watch TV or grab a book if you get bored." Then he winks at Castiel and disappears out to the living room.
Castiel doesn't watch TV or read a book. Instead, he curls up around Dean's pillow and Michael watches him think about Dean for hours until he finally drifts off.
It's well past midnight when Dean finally crawls into bed beside him. He doesn't bother waking Castiel up for a romp and Castiel doesn't stir.
But in the morning, Castiel is up a good fifteen minutes before Dean's alarm goes off, so Dean wakes up to find his legs spread wide and Castiel's warm, wet mouth coaxing him into hardness. It doesn't take long at all, and Dean's voice is hoarse from sleep and arousal when he groans slightly. Castiel sucks him adoringly and with careful attention to detail, and he looks up at Dean through his lashes like there's nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than down there between Dean's legs, pleasuring him.
Dean's body is still too loose and he's still too hazy to do much more than lie there uselessly and indulge in Castiel's attentions, but Castiel seems happy to do all the work. He seems even happier when he starts palming Dean's balls and Dean moans softly. Eventually Dean begins squirming beneath Castiel's mouth and his hips undulate slowly up and down, and then suddenly his fingers clench in Castiel's hair.
"Cas," he gasps. "Cas, I'm gonna come."
Castiel has the timing down perfectly and doesn't even need to finish Dean off with his hand. He sucks hard right up until the moment Dean starts coming, and that's when he pulls off to watch with a small smile of satisfaction as Dean's body arches and stretches out in ecstasy.
All Dean manages afterward is a grateful, "Whoa," between trying to catch his breath.
It brings another smile to Castiel's lips, and then he climbs off the bed to find his clothes.
Dean catches his wrist and tugs him off balance, grinning when Castiel falls into his arms and even nuzzling Castiel's ear a bit. "Stay," he murmurs. The alarm goes off then, and Dean reaches over to hit snooze.
"You have to get to work," Castiel says patiently, though he doesn't seem inclined to extract himself from Dean's embrace. "And I have to get back too."
"No, I mean." Dean's voice gets serious all of a sudden and he pulls away to look Castiel in the eye. "Don't go back there. Ever."
Castiel eyebrows draw together in confusion. "I have to."
"Just because you have a debt to pay off, right?" Dean asks impatiently. "Look, I'll pay it off for you."
"No," Castiel says immediately, pulling away and getting out of bed. He resists Dean's attempts to keep him close this time. "I can't ask you to do that."
Dean sits up. "You're not asking. I'm offering."
"Well, I can't accept it," Castiel snaps, reaching for his clothes to pull them on haphazardly. The offer has shaken him, Michael can see it in the jerkiness of his movements.
"You also can't stop me," Dean points out. But at Castiel's stricken look, he sighs. "Come on, Cas, I know how much you hate doing this, day after day, client after client, and I know some of them are brutal assholes. I can help you."
"By buying and keeping me like a pet?" Castiel sounds bitter. "I knew you were too perfect."
Dean insists with a frown, "It's not like that."
Castiel shakes his head. "Maybe you don't see it that way, but that's exactly how it is. If I need you for food and shelter--"
"It's okay to need someone, Cas," Dean interrupts him gently.
"I already need you too much!" Castiel blurts. In the surprised silence that follows, he blushes furiously and looks away. "You make me need things I stopped letting myself need years ago," he says roughly a moment later. "And you make me want things even though I know I can't have them."
Dean sucks his lower lip into his mouth and searches Castiel's face. "What do you want?"
"You," Castiel replies miserably, finally looking back at him. "A normal relationship and a normal life that doesn't involve selling myself to whoever happens to want to fuck me."
"I'm offering you all of those things."
"You think a normal relationship is one in which one person is completely dependent on the other for food and affection and everything in between?" Castiel asks incredulously. "I know you said you were bad at relationships but I've never been in one and even I can see how fucked up that is."
Dean shakes his head in frustration. "Look, Cas, we'll figure it out."
"I don't think you want to figure it out," Castiel says with a hard edge in his voice. "I think you can't keep a real relationship together so you've decided to just buy off a whore who you won't ever have to worry about leaving you and play pretend."
Even Michael thinks the words are harsh, and Dean is stung. His eyes widen, and Castiel rushes to apologize. "I didn't mean it like that--"
"Fuck you," Dean growls. Castiel flinches, but he barrels on, grabbing the money he owes Castiel for the night out of his wallet and thrusting it at him. "Take your money and get the fuck out of my apartment, then. And next time you can't deal with your life, find someone else to go running to. You win; I'm done wasting my money on whores."
"Dean," Castiel pleads, but Dean gets out of bed and shoves past him to stalk into the bathroom and slam the door.
Castiel stares after him wretchedly and stays rooted to the spot long after the sound from Dean's shower starts. Eventually he looks down at his fistful of cash with something approaching resentment and moves to leave it on the nightstand, but then he aborts the movement. Castiel needs the money, and Michael can see the shame on his face as he stuffs it into his pocket. Then Dean finishes showering, and Castiel rushes away like he's terrified Dean will come out and see him still there.
Michael feels less triumphant than he should.
***
Part 2
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-03-02 12:28 am (UTC)OMG MICHAEL U DIRTY BASTARD
maybe there's something special about Dean and Castiel after all, something that always draws them together like this despite his best efforts to tear them apart.
IT'S MOTHEREFFING DESTINY!
(I actually squaked when he called him Cas for the 1st time. That's destiny too.)
Michael feels less triumphant than he should.
I KNEW YOU'RE NOT THE COLD BASTARD YOU'RE PRETENDING TO BE!
*Rushes off to part 2*
no subject
Date: 2010-03-03 03:31 am (UTC)Even Michael can't resist Dean/Castiel, it's true.
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Date: 2010-03-02 11:05 am (UTC);_; poor Cas, poor Dean! They're so adorable...must. read. next. part!
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Date: 2010-03-03 03:32 am (UTC)Thank you for the comments, glad you enjoyed this!
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Date: 2010-03-06 08:27 pm (UTC)Then there's Dean and Cas themselves. There's no denying the hotness between them- fire crews are on standby ;). I also love the gentleness; so different to what this Cas gets anywhere else. I love the domesticity of them watching tv or cooking. Yet there's also no denying that it's a lie and there's going to be some sort of fallout when they get their real memories back. And now it's all just broken like Michael wanted :(.
Can they fix this in either reality? ::runs off to part two to check::
Laura.
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Date: 2010-03-08 01:14 am (UTC)I'm so pleased you like their relationship here, and the sex! The image of them being all gentle and domestic gets me too and sometimes I wish they could have that.
Thanks for the comment!
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Date: 2010-03-12 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 04:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 02:25 am (UTC)This is brilliant. I can express just how much I like this, but it's awesome.
Very very hot and makes us actually care about the boys in this fic outside of the bedroom as well xx
no subject
Date: 2010-04-11 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 06:25 pm (UTC)haven't read this yet. but rentboy!Cas!! \0/ one of my fav tropes. by one of my fav authors.
saving this for a rainy day~~
i predict serious amts of awesome in my future
no subject
Date: 2010-04-26 06:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 05:28 pm (UTC)Yeeeeahhh... that's basically what my brain is doing now. YOU MADE IT HAPPEN. I BLAME YOU.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 05:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 06:15 pm (UTC)HERE'S ANOTHER THAT IS A BIT MORE LULZY:
no subject
Date: 2010-05-06 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-07-21 11:35 pm (UTC)It's true. *nods*
Anyways, I'm so glad someone gave me the link to this fic, it's awesome and HOT. I am enjoying reading this too much; sometimes I talk to my computer screen as if the characters aren't just words on a virtual page. O.o
I'm off to read part two. Can't wait to see what happens, poor Dean and Cas. ):
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Date: 2010-07-22 12:30 am (UTC)I'm glad someone gave you a link to this fic too, thank you both! And I hope you enjoy the second part too.
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Date: 2010-09-05 08:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 12:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-13 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-05-31 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-08 03:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-06 11:59 pm (UTC)D:
This is so.
So..
I can't even describe it.
But it's am-a-a-ziiinnngg. D:
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Date: 2011-11-13 04:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-20 04:44 am (UTC)