Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In the beginning, as the word was uttered, His word; an outstretched arm of gift and grace, came with it a path of life. In His presence there is fullness and joy; at His right hand, pleasures forevermore, rewards of an eternal paradise. At His left hand, departure into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.

What remained unspoken was the eternity that lay in wait for those who chose neither hand. The edge of a hem on a garment, for humans do not hold a place in purgatory. It is on this plane for which eternity is granted through penance; in the form of servitude to His children. Slaves are to be submissive to their own masters in everything; they are to be well-pleasing, not argumentative, not pilfering, but showing all good faith, so that in everything they may adorn the doctrine of God in which they had not in their life.

Dean closed the book with an angry huff and scrubbed his hand over his face, belying his frustration with the flowery words. “What the hell does that mean?” He slammed the book on the library table before pulling out his cell phone. One, two, three rings; Dean sent out a quiet prayer, begging the angel to answer. On the fifth ring, at the gruff ‘hello’, he cried out, “Cas! What do you know about Limbo?”

“Too much,“ he replied with a growl. “Why?”

“Sammy’s been taken there.” Dean grabbed one of the other books from the Men of Letters annex that catalogued different tomes and books about the varied planes of existence, precariously cupping the cell phone to his ear by his left shoulder. He flipped the book open to the page about Limbo. It was blank. “I can’t find any lore on this place.”

“I’m not surprised. Are you at the bunker, Dean?”

“Yeah, how fast can you…” Before he could finish his question, he heard the flutter of angel wings behind him. Dean turned around and was face to face with Cas. Phone still pressed between his face and shoulder, he stared kind of dumbly at his friend. How could he forget the guy got his wings back?

“You can hang up now,” Cas said dryly as he lowered his phone and pocketed it in his trenchcoat.

Dean ignored the heat in his cheeks and the embarrassment that accompanied it. “Uh, yeah.” He replicated the angel’s action and pocketed his own phone, never breaking eye contact with Cas. The staring was getting awkward, so Dean cleared his throat and asked, “You said you know about Limbo?”

“Yes. Tell me what happened, Dean.” His tone was soft and concerned, but demanding.

He sighed and closed the book he was holding. “We were on a hunt, thought it was gonna be a good ol’ salt and burn, but we ended up in, I don’t know... Do angels have lairs?”

“No, but we are usually out on missions with our garrison. You were attacked by angels?”

“Yeah, we put up a good fight, but Sammy, man. One of the angels clapped some sort of, I don’t know, it looked like this thick metal dog collar on him and they disappeared. The rest of them followed, but I was able to keep one bound here long enough to find out where they took him.”

Cas closed his eyes for a moment and Dean didn’t like the worried expression on his face - at all. His friend slowly shook his head. “This is bad. I…” Cas bit his lower lip, which was in no way distracting, whatsoever; before he continued in a thoughtful tone, “I will try my best to rescue Sam from there, but it may take me a few days to do that.”

“Then take me with you.”

“I can’t, Dean. Limbo isn’t a place where any human should go. It’s too dangerous. It will be easier if I go alone.”

“Dude, then I’m definitely going. You can’t tell me that it’s a dangerous place for humans after my brother has been taken there and expect me to just sit at home with my thumb up my ass. Not happenin’.” Dean folded his arms across his chest, a defiant and adamant stance.

He could see the tense, almost haunted expression in Cas’s eyes, before his friend looked to the table. “Sit down. I’ll tell you everything I know, hopefully it will change your mind about coming with me.”

Nodding as he did as instructed, taking a seat at the table, he waited for Cas to do the same. “Is it like Purgatory?”

"It's nothing like Purgatory," Cas practically spat. Dean was surprised to hear so much disdain in the angel’s voice. He took the chair next to Dean and their knees touched when he moved to face him. "The human souls trapped in Limbo are neither bad enough for Hell nor good enough for Heaven. They think they are serving the angels from that realm to gain entrance to Heaven, but it’s just a lie to keep them in place. Heaven’s policy about Limbo was always strict. We are not allowed to interfere with their realm or to upset the natural order. Since there weren’t many souls fulfilling the requirement to end up in Limbo, the plane doesn’t have much power and is mostly cut off from everything. The angels there are different, they can’t travel between the planes and they depend on Heaven’s support to sustain their existence. It wasn’t something that was talked about, some angels in Heaven loath our connection to this plane, but others…“ Cas shook his head sadly. “They were of the mindset that humans belong in that sort of position, serving the angels as slaves.”

Dean shook his head, disbelief washing over him. The slaves passage he had read earlier was starting to make sense. A plane where humans were slaves to angels? Yup. It was confirmed. Angels were nothing but a bunch of dicks, Cas being the exception. “So, these poor schmucks are forced into slavery with the hope of Heaven being dangled over their heads? How is Chuck okay with that?”

“He doesn’t care. He never cared what happened to his creation. Free will… Anyway, I hope you now understand why I can’t take you with me. I can walk this plane without being at risk, but you can’t. The only way humans may roam the plane is under their master’s watchful eye.”

Dean scoffed. The more he heard about the place, the more determined he was to save his brother. “What does that mean?”

Cas let out a deep sigh. “It means if you insist on accompanying me, you would have to pose as my slave; and I highly doubt you would want that.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird if the angels see you with a slave? I mean, they must know angels from Heaven don’t have them.”

His query was met with a soft headshake. “While Earth is protected by Heaven, the souls from Hell are not. I would be allowed to keep a soul for myself, if I rescued it from Hell. And although that fact would work perfectly as a cover, I still can’t imagine you’d want to pretend to be my slave.”

“Dude, I’m pretty sure if I could pretend to be a virgin, or a born again virgin, then I’m pretty sure I could handle pretending to be a slave. We’ve gotta get Sam, man.”

“'Pretty sure’  is not enough. You would have to listen to everything I say. You would not be allowed to talk back to me, nor to question me. I know you, Dean. You would want to help those souls the moment you see how they’re treated, but you can’t. I’m just one angel and I’m not strong enough to change anything on that plane. I can help you get Sam out of there, but that’s it. If you truly wish to join me, I need you to promise that you won’t do anything stupid and that you won’t question me.”

Dean sat there for a few moments, contemplating his response. Naturally, he wanted to argue, but that would only cement Cas’s adamance that he not accompany him. It irked him beyond belief, the idea of having to be completely submissive to anyone, but thinking of his brother, needing to rescue Sam from such a hellish place; Dean knew he could suck up his pride for a few days. Step one to acting the slave, he bowed his head to his friend and said, “I understand.”

For a moment Cas was speechless. He had clearly expected a different response. After a moment of silence the angel cleared his throat. “There is also… another thing I should mention…”

When Dean looked up, he noticed Cas rub the back of his neck, looking downright horrified and embarrassed. “What is it, Cas?”

“Um… the human slaves… some of them… they are… um… also used for sexual gratification.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot upward, it was one thing to pose as a slave, but as a sex slave? When had they entered an episode of Taxi Cab Confessions? “Would… would I have to…” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the thought, let alone the sentence.

Cas looked as uncomfortable with the topic as Dean felt. “Of course I will do everything to keep you safe, Dean, but… There may be situations requiring certain expectations in regards to your behavior towards me. There may be circumstances in which I would have no control over the socially constructed norms of this plane.”

Dean let out a sigh. “What are we talkin’ about here, Cas? What is a socially con-whatever you called it? Am I gonna be expected to blow every slave owner who commands it?”

He could have been wrong, but it looked like Cas paled at his question. “No! You would be mine.”

“So, then I’d be blowin’ you at your command?” He probably should have been freaked out by that idea.

Cas looked down at the floor, biting his lower lip. Dean supposed that was plenty enough of an answer. He watched his friend rake his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was. “You know I would never ask that of you, but… Dean, you could still stay here.”

Unsure of how to respond, he took a deep breath. Dean was no stranger to sex, particularly meaningless sex for some sort of exchange. He’d slept with far worse people, with far less at stake. Honestly, if having to be Cas’s sex slave for a few days could save his brother, it was a no brainer. Again, he tried to not think about how he wasn’t anywhere near as freaked out as he probably should be by that idea. “So, uh… do I call you master or…”

“You would call me Geiad, it’s the Enochian word for master. I need to get you some clothes and…" Cas sighed deeply. “I’ll be right back.”

“Gee-yad?” Dean asked, testing out the way the word felt on his tongue. It was a little heavy, the syllables dragging his tongue down. He looked up for confirmation he had pronounced it correctly.

Cas appeared to be frozen in place and Dean wondered what his friend was thinking. Maybe he had pronounced the word wrong and said something else? Something insulting? The angel slowly shook his head and said the word again, this time slower and more pronounced, “Geh-i-ad ”

Dean nodded. “Geiad,”  he pronounced correctly. “I understand, Geiad.” He ducked his head in feign modesty. Leonardo DiCaprio, eat your heart out.

The chair next to him scratched in a sharp hiss against the hardwood floor when Cas quickly stood up and turned away from Dean. “Yes, that was correct,” he mumbled, before clearing his throat again. “I have to go, Dean.”

Dean slipped to the floor, heavily on his knees before Cas, grasping the hem of his friend’s trenchcoat. He looked up at the angel with a smirk and asked, “Have I displeased you, Geiad?”

Cas gasped before he looked down at him with a shocked expression, one that instantly turned into an annoyed eye roll when he noticed Dean’s smirk. “You’ve made your point. I will be back soon, you’ll need different attire for this plane, as will I.”

Dean chuckled and moved to get back in the chair. He watched as Cas disappeared into thin air, his cheeks a little reddened. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little proud of himself, making the angel blush. He took the moments of solitude to grab the book he’d first read to familiarize himself with the passage.

Slaves are to be submissive to their own masters in everything; they are to be well-pleasing, not argumentative, not pilfering, but showing all good faith, so that in everything they may adorn the doctrine of God in which they had not in their life.

How messed up was it that humans had to, literally, service angels in some misguided hope to gain entry into Heaven? Friggin’ dicks, man. Now that he thought of it, he was kind of glad that Billie had threatened to throw him and Sammy into the veil. Nothingness was probably a hell of a lot better than having to be the Julia Roberts to all of the damn Richard Geres in Limbo.

When Cas returned, Dean stifled a gasp. He hadn’t been kidding about getting new clothes, not that Dean had tried to imagine anything, but he certainly hadn’t expected the angel to come in looking like that. Cas was wearing some kind of armor, black chainmail over his legs, heavy boots, and black leather wrist guards upon his forearms. Chest bare, apart from a deep silver embroidered sheath wrapped diagonally across his torso. Had Cas always been that tan?

The guy had certainly hidden his body well under all of the layers of clothes, because Dean really hadn’t expected Cas to look so se… And whoa there, Winchester. He stopped that train of thought in its tracks. He had been staring at his friend for far too long anyway.

“I’ve brought you this tunic, Dean… And you have to wear this collar, too.” Cas showed him the clothes with an apologetic look. The collar wasn’t like the one he had seen on Sam. It was solid gold and encrusted with emeralds the size of quarters.

For the first time since they had ventured into the reality of this uncomfortable situation, Dean felt the urge to protest. He could wear a frilly ass tunic that left little to the imagination - hell, he’d done that more times than he could count with Charlie when she roped him into LARPing as her handmaiden. But a collar? It was one thing to pretend to be a slave, but to be visibly put on display as owned? As someone’s property?

Dean picked up the collar and examined it, a grimace etched into his features. “Really? What’s with the jewels? Wouldn’t a collar from PetSmart serve the same purpose?”

Cas turned away from him as Dean unceremoniously peeled off his clothes to shrug on the silky green tunic. “The collar represents the rank of the slave’s owner.”

Dean flattened out the fabric against his torso, it fell to about mid-thigh. If he bent over, the presently empty room would be getting the full monty if he had gone commando. When he looked down, he could see the hem of his bright red boxer-briefs peeking out from the tunic. Perhaps Cas wouldn’t notice, he tried to tug the material down as far as it could go as he asked, “What kind of crazy rank does that make you?”

“I have the rank of a commander in Heaven… It’s a very high rank, which will be to our advantage when we visit this plane. It will make things easier…” Cas turned back to face him, eyes darting downward. “Dean, you can’t wear underwear.”

He rolled his eyes, pulled his boxer-briefs down and off, before throwing them at Cas. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the indignant noise the angel made.

“I hope you’ve gotten that out of your system. You know you can’t do anything like that when we’re there.” Cas glared at him, but Dean could see the worry in his eyes.

He nodded and bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Geiad."

Cas sighed and took the collar from where it was lying on the table. “Do you trust me, Dean?”

“You know I do,” Dean answered, his voice carrying resignation and sadness. He knew Cas was right. This was the only way if he wanted to help save his brother. He had to do it, even though everything in him wanted to fight it. But he trusted Cas with his life. And now he was going to show him just how deep that trust ran.

Dean fell to his knees in front of the angel, bowing his head forward as he was fitted with the extraordinarily heavy collar. Castiel’s fingers caressed his skin when he closed the clasp of the sign of slavery; the symbol that gave Dean’s life over to the angel’s mercy. Dean suppressed the urge to close his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dean. For everything that you will have to witness and endure on our journey ahead. I wish you would stay here.”

“You know I can’t do that, Cas. I’ve gotta look out for Sammy.”

Chapter Text

The first thing Dean noticed after they arrived to Limbo, at the edge of a hill overlooking an expansive city, was the heat. Not like in Purgatory or Hell, but unpleasant nonetheless. Like Phoenix in the summer time. He suddenly felt immensely grateful for the very light and revealing tunic. He contemplated whether it would be legal for him to walk around naked on this plane.

Dean turned to ask Cas if that was something he could do when he gasped and took a step back. The angel was enveloped by two large black wings, soaring over the both of them. Those things were easily fifteen feet high, with a wingspan that would make a 747 weep. Dean narrowed his eyes, there were deep navy blue feathers spread out amongst the ink black feathers, creating an incandescent air. As though the wings were moving when they weren’t.

He continued to gape until Cas looked down at him and tilted his head, his brow slightly furrowed. “What?”

“Your wings are… I can see them,” Dean answered, his voice quieter than he intended, still awestruck by their utter beauty.

Cas nodded before he spread his wings to their full width. “It’s a plane ruled by angels. You will see the wings of every angel here. Try to get used to it.” He squinted his eyes as he walked a few steps to the edge of the cliff. “This city is where we’ll find Sam. It’s divided into seven districts that are named for the seven deadly sins and are ruled by different angels. We don’t know which angel bought Sam, so we’ll have to start in one district and ask around. And by, ‘we’, I mean, ‘I’. Under no circumstances are you allowed to speak, except when I or another angel asks you a question.”

Dean nodded his understanding, Cas wasn’t normally this commanding. It was a little terrifying and exhilarating all at once. But he knew damn well why he felt that way. Being in love with a guy for over six years had that effect on a person. Dean’s best kept secret and now here he was, acting the slave to his best friend, in which sexual favors may or may not be part of the deal. Slavery and potentially getting a taste of something he can’t have? This place was clearly a part of Hell.

“Always walk behind me, Dean. At least three feet. Don’t look at anyone. Keep your head down. When I sit down somewhere, you must kneel beside me. When I talk to someone and I stand still, you must kneel. If you follow the rules, hopefully, no one will suspect anything.”

God, he hoped they found Sammy soon. This place was bound and determined to make him snap the longer he had to play the part of faceless, nameless, slave number seven. He nodded and moved to step behind the angel.

Cas turned around and faced him again. “You’ll see things that will make you angry. You’ll have to ignore them, otherwise we’ll get caught and there will be no chance to save your brother. Always keep that in mind. This will be my last kind word towards you and I apologize for everything that I will say to you. I hope you know… that I’m not… I’m not like them. Please try to not forget that, Dean.”

He clenched his jaw, nodding as he let out a slow exhale. He could do this. He could do this to save his brother.

“There is one last word I have to teach you. It’s the word angels will use to address you. The word is Venqod. Veh-n-quod. Can you repeat that?”

“Van-gwod?” Dean asked, having more difficulty with this word than the one for ‘master’.

“No, try again and listen closely: Veh-n-quod,” Cas repeated the word, very slowly.

“Veh-n-gwod.” He shook his head at himself in annoyance. Stupid Enochian.

Cas sighed in frustration. “Dean, you will hear my language all the time in the city. It’s important you listen closely and learn these words.”

“I am listening, Cas!”

Dean stumbled back as Cas’s massive wings suddenly flared up in a display of dominance. “Don’t talk back to me, Venqod! Kneel down.”

Even though he knew Cas was playing a part, Dean still felt weirdly intimidated. He bowed his head as he knelt before the angel, keeping his gaze to the ground.

Cas stood over him, like a dark shadow, before he suddenly gripped Dean’s chin and tilted it up, forcing him to lock eyes. His friend’s voice was stern and deep as he instructed, “Relax your chin and repeat my pronunciation: Veh-n-quod.”

As he looked into the angel’s eyes, they sparkled with a fury he’d never seen before. Cas was actually angry, and that was strangely exciting. Dean had to take a breath, attempting to calm his heart rate to a more normal rhythm. He did as instructed and relaxed his jaw. “Venqod.”

Cas released his chin and turned around. “Come, we have to get to the city before dusk.”

Dean nodded and fell in line behind the angel as they started their trek toward the city. The closer they drew to it, the more clear the layout became. He couldn’t resist the occasional glance up at the monuments and ivory pillars that littered the outskirts. The pillars were encircled by deep green vines that traveled from the base to the top most tiers. The ground was mostly rubble and dirt, no form of real infrastructure. That wasn’t likely necessary for a species whose primary means of transportation was flying, he supposed.

They passed some beautiful sculpted entryways that led to perfectly symmetrical buildings carved from stone and marble. Gold glittering whatever accents it could find. If the place had a coliseum, he’d almost wonder if Cas had taken them back to ancient Rome.

Being given ample opportunity for silent contemplation, Dean wondered why Cas knew so much about this plane. He obviously knew his way around the city, given the fact of how purposefully he walked in a certain direction. It didn’t take long before they reached a massive wall and a gate with two angels guarding it. The angels’ wings weren’t as large as Cas’s. Their wings were also a paltry white color instead of black. Cas said something in Enochian he couldn’t understand and the angels both bowed their heads before one of them opened the door. The guy hadn’t been kidding when he said he held a high rank.

It went against every hunter instinct in him to not look around the city, or at the guards. Dean kept his head low and tried to steal glances to his left and right through his peripheral vision, hoping to get a feeling for the city and how it operated.

In contrast to the outskirts, the inner city was bursting with life. The streets were easier to walk on, made out of large stone slabs that shimmered golden in the already fading sunlight. The houses looked like temples, making him wonder if they had accidentally ended up in an episode of Spartacus. Angels were speaking in Enochian all around him, only occasionally did he hear some English words.

Dean had to refrain from taking a guarded stance when a vicious growl caused him to look up. Thankfully he remembered himself, with no one taking notice as he quickly bowed his head again. The short glance had been enough to see a cage with a wendigo inside of it, snarling at the angels flanking the bars.

Not for the first time, Dean noticed how different those angels looked compared to Cas. He had yet to see another angel with black wings. Only white, or even dirty white wings, that were about half the size of Castiel’s.

His friend came to a sudden stop when another angel approached them. Quickly, Dean knelt down on the hard stone slabs, keeping his head bowed. It was uncomfortable, the stone was hot and burned his exposed skin.

A sweep of annoyance washed over him. He hated not being able to understand what Cas and the angel were talking about. Hopefully they would get a private moment later, maybe somewhere he would feel safe enough to clue him in on what was going on and if he had found any information on Sam yet.

There was a sudden pang of fear mixed with anger. Dean didn’t want to think about what these dicks with wings were doing with his brother. If Cas was right about the, “sexual gratification” thing… He felt sick just thinking about what they could do to Sam.

The other angel that was speaking to Cas reminded him of Zachariah. His wings were light grey and the way he held himself appeared tense. Even though he couldn’t understand what they were saying, Dean noticed the voice of the other angel sounded intimidated, like he was afraid of Cas.

If all of the angels here really did see Cas as an authoritative figure, that was gonna be a huge help in their search for Sam. Another interesting thing that Dean noticed was no one appeaerd to pay any attention to him. It felt like he was invisible to every angel on the plaza. He snuck a peek at their surroundings. There were several angels in conversation, their slaves kneeling at their sides, like Cas had instructed. The only difference was that quite a few of them were on goddamn leashes, being led by their “owners”. Dean wondered why some of them were being walked on a leash and some weren’t.

The slave at the side of the angel Cas was talking to was young, very young. The kid couldn’t have been older than sixteen, a petite frame, mop of dirty blond hair that was pulled back in a low hung ponytail. When they made eye contact, the slave turned his attention back to the floor, in what Dean assumed was shame. Man, this world is seriously messed up.

Cas had stopped talking and started to walk north towards a large villa, Dean practically scrambled to get to his feet and follow the angel without appearing too much of a novice at this whole slave thing. While he was grateful not to be kneeling on the hard, hot ground, the brief period of rest had been welcome. The collar was causing an ache in his neck, which was aggravated further by the fact he also had to keep his head bowed.

He lifted his gaze for a brief moment, looking up at his master. Cas was so imposing, he walked with his head held high, wings tucked in, but still peering over him with such height, their shadows cascaded over his form. Dean had always seen the angel as this goofy, naive, hilarious, and awesome guy. He was badass when he needed to be, but in Limbo? Castiel was downright autocratic. Dean contemplated what it was about this place that made the angel seem so much more confident and why that made him seem so much more attractive.

He shook his head at himself. Maybe when they got back he should start seeing a therapist or something.

…. :::: :::: ….

"Castiel! Respect and honor to my brethren. It has been far too long since we last laid eyes upon our siblings from Heaven," Barachiel greeted him with a hand on his shoulder, a gesture Castiel mirrored with a nod.

"Respect and honor to you, too. You have my gratitude for inviting me to stay at your domicile.”

Cas hadn’t spoken in Enochian for a long time. It felt good to speak his own language again, even though the circumstances were less than pleasant. He knew, as long as they were on this plane, Dean was in danger. And he hated every minute of having Dean here, witnessing all of the things the angels did to the human souls. He hoped he would find Sam soon, so they could leave this place.

Barachiel wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “It’s an honor to have you here, Commander. Your last visit was over two hundred years ago. What brings you here? Pleasure or business?”

Actually Cas’s last visit to Limbo was just a few years ago, but Barachiel didn’t know about that. Only one other angel from this plane knew about his secret visit and he hoped he could see that angel again. Cas let himself be guided down the hallway, taking in Barachiel’s home. Nothing had changed since his last visit. It was still a marvelous sight of architecture and design. “Both, actually. A slave was stolen from me. A soul I rescued from Hell, which is now missing from my collection and I’ve heard was recently acquired in an illegal trade.”

Barachiel glanced behind them to look at Dean. Cas had the urge to demonstrate his possessiveness by flaring his wings up, but he restrained himself. They were here for just a few hours and Cas already felt his skin crawling from annoyance.

“What’s wrong with this one? Did you break him?”

Cas hated the lascivious smirk on Barachiel’s face, but he knew he could only keep Dean safe by playing their horrible game. “No, this one is for my personal pleasure. But I have other tasks that need to be fulfilled.”

Cas was incredibly thankful that Dean couldn’t understand him. When this was over, he was going to be apologizing to his friend for weeks.

Barachiel laughed. “I understand. I want to invite you to my evening gathering. There will be games and plentiful food. The last time you were here you didn’t participate in our evening meal. I hope this time you won’t reject my offerings. My slaves will prepare a room and a bath for you. Enjoy your stay for once, Castiel.”

“There is no need for special accommodations, brother. I just need a place to stay until I finish my business.”  Cas hoped he could keep the time spent interacting with the angels from this plane to the bare minimum. The less Dean saw of their customs, the better.

“Nonsense. You can’t refuse, Castiel. You’re my guest and since you bring honor to my house and name for staying here, I want you to greet a few of my fellow citizens."  Cas knew what Barachiel meant. He expected a service in return for him staying at his house. He wanted to use Castiel’s visit to strengthen his position in the political society of this city.

Cas stretched his wings, letting them tower over his sibling, to remind him of his place. It was just for show, he knew per the realm’s customs he had to accept. If he denied proffered hospitality, they might suspect he did not share in their philosophy. “Of course I accept your hospitality.”

Barachiel clapped his hands and smiled. "Magnificent. I’ll arrange everything for you. The gathering will start after sun down. Enjoy your bath.”

Cas wished he could turn around and warn Dean about what was going to be expected of him. But he knew he needed to ignore him to keep the man safe. Any friendly attention could compromise their mission. At least he knew Dean was a quick thinker and very attentive to his surroundings. He was an excellent hunter and his skills would help in this situation, more than he would probably know.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was startled by the sets of hands that gently grasped him by the arms, lifting him to his feet from his kneeling position. Two other slaves, an older man with streaks of grey ashing his dark hair, and a younger slave with short red hair, attempted to guide him away from the angels. He looked to Cas then, attempting to confirm if he was to follow. At the muted nod, Dean followed the two slaves in the direction of an alcove leading to another room.

As he stepped inside, he took note of the layout. The room was small and decorated with various wooden chiffoniers, carved intricately with different patterns of vines and leaves. The younger guy grabbed a couple of towels and bottles from a large hutch with glass windows, while the older slave gripped his tunic and began to tug it upwards.

Dean stepped back. “Whoa, buddy. What are you doing?”

The older man looked taken aback, his wrinkles prominently furrowed in concern. “You are not versed in the language?”

He shook his head, assuming the guy meant Enochian.

The man’s face was kind, which he hoped meant that he assumed Dean was new to this slave thing, as opposed to being a fraud. The older slave gently clapped a hand upon his shoulder. “Your Geiad is to be given a bath before the festivities at dusk.”

Dean shrugged, unsure of what that meant for him. “So, why are you undressing me?”

The man chuckled, not a mocking sound, one of reminiscence, as though he was recalling his own experiences as a novice slave. “Our Geiads do not touch their own person, it is the responsibility of their Venqod to address their physical needs.”

Dean’s eyes widened in realization. He was supposed to bathe Cas. He was supposed to bathe… Cas. If they ever got out of this place alive, he was definitely going to start seeing a therapist. Having repressed his feelings for the angel for years, to have to touch the guy’s naked body… Yeah, Dean was definitely in Hell.

At the expectant look he was being given, Dean nodded and let the man undress him. He felt incredibly awkward, standing completely nude, apart from a ridiculously extravagant collar about his neck. He shuffled nervously toward the table with all of the items the younger slave had laid out for him.

“These bottles serve different purposes,” the older man began to explain. Dean noticed the disapproving quirked brow of the other slave. He wondered if the guy was being unconventionally kind.

Dean grabbed a large hourglass shaped bottle, tinted purple with gold trimming. “What’s this one for?”

“For your Geiad’s wings.”

After all of the different bottles and the process of bathing an angel had been explained to him, Dean wrapped the bottles in one of the towels as a makeshift bag, while he slung the other towel over his shoulder. As the older man began to lead him out of the room, Dean smiled in gratitude. “Thanks. I’m Dean, by the way.”

Both slaves stopped walking and turned to face him, their faces contorted in a mixture of confusion and fear.

“You have a name?” the younger slave asked, his tone accusatory.

“Well, yeah. Don’t all of you?”

The older man shook his head, an air of sadness in the movement. “We are Venqod.”

“I get that, but didn’t you have names before you came here?”

The younger slave looked outright offended, but the kind, older slave took pity on Dean. “I was once known as Gregory.”

The red headed douche refused to look at Dean then, turning back around and waiting for Gregory to follow suit.

Dean smiled. “Nice to meet you, Greg.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Follow us, we’ll take you to the Kurida Salman.”

From the other entrance into the small room, Dean was led down a narrow tunnel littered with low-lit torches. It took him a moment to realize this was a slave corridor, because, of course it wouldn’t be acceptable for slaves to use the same walkways as their masters. The farthest door on the left at the end of the corridor led to a grandiose room.

The floors were paved in white marble, beautiful stone pillars in each corner. In the middle of the room was an enormous – pool, was the only thing Dean could compare it to. Probably the size of three Olympic pools, in a large rectangular shape. With small steps partitioned every five feet or so, as though there were individual sections for each master and slave.

Dean could see an intricate mosaic decorating the floor of the pool, golds and teals in an infinite intertwined loop, with various floral designs that reminded him of extended angel wings. It was utterly breathtaking.

Gregory directed him to a partitioned section a little further away from the other angels currently being bathed by their slaves. He took the items from Dean and motioned for him to step in. In that moment, he felt a little unnerved, realizing just how naked he was, in more ways than just physical. He pressed a toe into the water to test the temperature. It was incredibly warm, but not unpleasantly so.

“Your Geiad will be here shortly,” the red haired slave clipped before turning away from them and leaving in a flourish of superiority.

Gregory grasped Dean’s shoulder. “Don’t mind him. I shall attend to you when it is time for the festivities.”

He nodded dumbly, grateful for the man’s kindness. As he waited for Cas to arrive, Dean took his brief moment of pseudo freedom to watch the other slaves. How they attended to their masters. It was practically obscene. The angel nearest to Dean had his soft silvery wings sprawled out, moaning unabashedly as his slave massaged oil into the feathers and joints.

Dean’s cheeks heated, it almost felt like he was imposing on a private moment. Before he could continue spying on the others, the doors directly behind him opened with a loud creak. When he looked up, Cas was softly approaching, entirely nude, his beautiful wings tucked behind him.

Dean couldn’t stop staring, he’d seen Cas naked before, but the guy had been covered in bees at the time, so it wasn’t like he got a good look. The angel was utterly gorgeous. Defined and hard in all of the right places, toned muscles that twitched with each step he took. As Dean’s eyes drifted downwards, following the light trail of hair that led to the angel’s groin, he gasped. Even soft, Cas was huge.

Dean was absolutely, without a doubt, in Hell.

Cas descended into the water up to his waist before he sprawled his wings outward in order to lay, comfortably he assumed, against the slightly enclosed alcove of their small partition of the pool. He quirked an eyebrow at Dean expectantly.

Shaking his head of all of the dirty thoughts currently taking over his brain, he grabbed a couple of the bottles. Climbing up onto the step Cas was sprawled out on, he knelt by his right wing. “What should I do first, Cas?” he asked in a whisper.

“Address me properly, Venqod. Start with my right wing. Did they tell you how to use the oil?” Cas growled back at Dean without looking at him.

Dean was a little taken aback by Cas’s tone, but then he remembered they were both supposed to be playing a part. He bowed his head. “My apologies, Geiad. And no, just which oil to use on your wings.” He hoped that was a good enough answer.

“Just massage it into the feathers.”

Dean noticed the tenseness in Cas’s voice. The guy was probably uncomfortable asking this of him. He wondered how he could signal to Cas that it was okay. Darting a surreptitious glance at the other slaves, he saw one of them press a kiss to the bottom most feathers of his master’s wing.

Taking a page from that guy’s playbook, Dean gently grasped one of Cas’s lower feathers and pressed a soft kiss to the bundle of black and blue. The feathers were incredibly soft, practically silk as opposed to the expected downy texture he had anticipated. Dean was a little awestruck by actually getting to touch a part of the real Cas, something he never would have dreamed of getting a chance at. He was going to have to try to not let the experience cause him to fall even more in love with the guy. Yeah, there wasn’t much hope for that.

The angel let out a soft gasp. He must have been on the right track. Dean grabbed the purple bottle and poured a small amount into his cupped hand; it was probably best to work his way up.

Coating both of his hands in the oil after placing the bottle on the edge of the pool, Dean returned his attention to Cas’s wings, gently massaging into a mass of feathers at the bottom. When the angel groaned and closed his eyes, Dean looked up, concerned he was doing it wrong. “Geiad, am I hurting you?”

“No,” Cas clipped, his eyes closed before he turned his face away. Dean could see his chest muscles tense, as though he was trying to be somewhere else mentally, clearly uncomfortable.

Realizing that was all the answer he was going to get, Dean continued his ministrations on the angel’s wings. Gently massaging the feathers and joints. Every time Cas was unable to stop himself from groaning, Dean looked to his face in concern, but he couldn’t decipher his friend’s facial expression. When he began to massage one of the upper joints, Cas let out an unmitigated moan.

Dean looked down and saw the angel’s erection start to harden beneath the water. Damn. He never even thought that wings could be erogenous zones. Not that he knew anything about angel wings.

He tried to not think about what was happening between them. If he wasn’t beginning to feel so turned on himself, he might have had the ability to feel bad for putting Cas in such a position. Dean bit his lip and forced himself to think of anything but the angel, pliant and aroused beneath him.

A shaky inhale, which was a poor attempt to steady his breathing, to calm his heart rate. Dean shook his head, a minute and reflective movement, before he returned to the task at hand. It wasn’t until they heard a deep, guttural moan from across the pool that he became distracted. The slave who had been bathing the silver winged angel was now between the legs of his master, clearly massaging a very non-wing part of the angel’s anatomy.

He was mesmerized by the actions, mostly because it was kind of intense to be performing sexual acts in front of other naked people. Dean’s cheeks were heated, partially from bewilderment, and partially from his own, seriously messed up, arousal. When he returned his attention back to his own angel, their eyes locked and Dean was held in place by the inflamed spark in those indigo eyes. In that moment, if Cas asked him, he’d do anything the angel requested. Anything.

It was stupid, it was foolish, it was potentially relationship damaging, but all he could think of was the possibilities. The temptation. Feeling brazen, Dean asked, “Geiad, do you want me to attend to something else?” He really hoped the answer would be ‘yes’.

He didn’t answer Dean right away. For a long, seemingly endless moment, he thought his friend might ask for more, but then Cas broke their eye contact and stared up at the ceiling. “No, just my other wing and then you are dismissed. I want you to go to our room and see if everything is in order.”

He tried to not let disappointment overwhelm him. Of course Cas didn’t want to have any sort of physical pleasure from Dean. It wasn’t like the angel was actually attracted to him. He was just reacting to all of the stimulus, which was a natural, physical response. And it wasn’t like Cas was the type to abuse his position of power.

“Yes, Geiad.”

…. :::: :::: …..

Cas was shocked and ashamed of his own thoughts and behavior. He hadn’t anticipated how overwhelming it would feel to have Dean’s hands massage his wings. He had never been touched in such a way before and, although he knew that his wings were sensitive to certain administrations, he had never expected it to feel quite like that.

He had also never expected Dean to ask if he should attend to him in other ways. Cas was painfully aware of his erection and the unadulterated want that Dean had aroused in him with the gentle caressing of his feathers. He felt so ashamed that he had been tempted to say yes. That he wanted Dean to touch him like the other slaves touched their masters. And that had been the moment when reality hit him.

Dean wasn’t a slave. He was his friend and he wouldn’t do that to him.

Trying to think of other things, occupying his mind with the patterns decorating the ceiling of the bath house, he sucked in a deep breath and held it when Dean had started to towel him dry. Dean was methodical and tender, starting with his wings until he walked around him and dried his chest and stomach. Cas tried to look anywhere but the man.

He was going to have to apologize to his friend later for his inappropriate physiological response, that still hadn’t gone away entirely. When Dean sank down to his knees in front of him in order to dry his legs, Cas bit down on his bottom lip to distract himself.

In a quick flourish, he fully extended his wings out, in pretense of shaking the remaining droplets of water off of them; but in reality, he had done it to obscure Dean from the gaze of the other angels. Cas looked down at him when Dean’s hands wandered up his thigh with the towel to dry the rest of his body. Dangerously close to his erection, that was steadily growing again.

“Stop!” He hadn’t intended on his command coming out so harshly, but it was already becoming too much.

Dean startled, his hands retracted as he looked up in confusion. “I–I’m sorry, Geiad.”

Dean addressing him in Enochian wasn’t making his situation any better. “Just go to our room.”

The hunter nodded and extended his hand holding the towel, offering it to Cas.

Cas didn’t take it, opting to glare at him instead. “Take that with you. I won’t need it. Just leave me.” He didn’t want to let Dean know that another house slave would tend to him and would clothe him as soon as he was gone. Somehow, the thought of someone else doing that was helping calm Cas down. He wondered why he was so affected by the idea of Dean doing this for him, but didn’t mind another person doing it.

He watched as Dean was escorted out of the bath house by an older slave as he slowly made his way to an adjacent room where he had left his armor. An item of clothing he hadn’t worn for quite some time.

Memories flooded his mind then. Cas recalled all of the times he had visited this plane on behalf of Heaven’s order. He remembered when he had to bring an angel back to Heaven, one who had used this plane to hide from his crimes against humanity. Most of the other angels were more shocked about the fact that the angel had tried to stay in Limbo, than the fact that he had murdered countless innocent humans.

Cas was glad that Dean didn’t know just how many of his brothers thought so poorly of humans. That the word mud monkey, a term fondly used by Uriel, had actually originated from Limbo and became a common term in Heaven to describe humans.

He wondered when his brothers had forgotten that they were warriors, whose mission was to protect humanity from evil… Instead, so many had become evil themselves.

Heaven had strict rules about their dealings with Limbo. Angels from Heaven weren’t allowed to stay longer than a few days. The plane affected them in so many ways – ways that Cas hoped he wouldn’t feel again.

Another slave with short red hair had entered the room and proceeded to dry the rest of his skin before helping Cas into his clothes. His movements were precise and humble, at no point did he look up.

Somehow, Cas couldn’t wait to be alone with Dean, just to see his friend look at him with his expressive green eyes. Eyes that were full of defiance and willpower, that would challenge him without being afraid.

…. :::: :::: ….

After Dean was redressed in his tunic, Gregory took him through the slave corridor to an entryway that split in two different directions. This place was massive and he was grateful for the guidance. There was no way he would be able to find their room without the older man’s assistance.

Four doors down the left sided hallway, Gregory opened a heavy wooden door, with carvings of angels adorning the base. The room was large and open, a couple of velvet upholstered chaise lounges off to the side, and an enormous bed in the center of the room. Large enough to accommodate angel wings, he assumed.

Its rotund shape was sheathed with a large, sheer tapestry, elegantly draped over its entirety from a golden hook in the ceiling. Dean looked around, not seeing any other form of bed. “Will I sleep here, or somewhere else?”

Gregory gave him another kind smile. “That is up to your Geiad. Usually, Venqod remain at the side of their angel, in sleep as well as in waking. It is your duty, especially as one whom is enlisted for pleasure.”

Dean quirked his brow. “Pleasure?”

He nodded. “That is what your Geiad told mine, he is here for another slave for menial tasks, for you are strictly used for personal pleasure. Were you not aware?”

Cas told that douchebag angel he was his sex toy? The hell? He knew that the sex slave thing was a possibility, but why would Cas neglect to mention that there was a non-sexy option? Dean shook his head and schooled his features. Time to play the part right. “I was not aware my Geiad was so displeased with my lack of skills in menial tasks…”

Before Gregory could respond, the door had been closed by the red-haired slave, who had apparently been eavesdropping on their conversation. “Well, clearly you are, considering your Geiad called upon me to dry and clothe him. A pity too, I would be grateful for such a position.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at the smug, ginger brat. “Well, perhaps my hands are better suited for other tasks.” He leered, hoping the kid got his meaning.

“Tasks that can be performed by any common whore.” He scoffed.

Before Dean could up and deck the kid in his face, Gregory stepped between them. “It is inappropriate to insult a Venqod of such a high-ranking Geiad. You would do well to bite your tongue, young one.” He turned to Dean then. “He shall arrive shortly, my quarters are at the end of the hallway, should you have need of my assistance.”

Dean was grateful to Gregory for his kindness, particularly putting that smug bastard in his place. As the older man ushered the other slave from the room, Dean used the moment of peace to explore his surroundings.

There was a large open hutch, carved from oak, with gold plated cabinet doors behind the bed. He opened the doors to find several articles of clothing. When he saw a small drawer at the bottom, he opened it and felt his blood run cold. A heavy iron chain, probably ten feet in length, was coiled in the drawer. Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew what it was used for. He only hoped there wouldn’t be a need for Cas to use it on him.

As he continued to rifle through the random cabinets and drawers, his exploration was interrupted by the door being slammed open and shut. Dean looked up and saw Cas standing against the door, his breathing heavy as it slowly began to even out. “You okay, Ca… Geiad?”

“I am now, Dean. We’re alone, please…“ Cas scrubbed his hands over his face. “Please just say my name.”

Dean smiled. “You sure you don’t want me to play the slave behind closed doors, too?”

Cas looked up at him, a strange expression on his face that almost made Dean regret his joke. The angel approached him, eyes heavy with guilt and regret. “Dean, please… I want… I need to apologize for earlier. I had hoped I could spare us from social activities, but I don’t have much choice in the matter. We need to stay at this house and try to play our roles until I find Sam.”

“I get it.” He nodded and, clapping a consoling hand on Cas’s shoulder, he continued, “Don’t worry about it. I just hope I don’t inadvertantly fuck up. I’ve already made an enemy out of one of your pal’s slaves.”

His eyes widened in alarm. “What did you do?”

Dean shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. The kid gave me a weird look when I asked for their names and then he got all smarmy about the fact that I’m clearly only your sex slave, and that’s why he got to dress and dry you. You know, 'cause all I’m good for is being your whore…” He tried to not sound as annoyed as he did, he wasn’t entirely sure why that fact upset him.

Cas averted his gaze then, eyes trained on the floor. “I... I’m sorry, Dean. I had hoped you wouldn’t learn of how I described your relation to me. I did that so we could be alone and wouldn’t get separated. Common Venqod are not permitted to stay in the room of their Geiad. And I said that so... you wouldn’t get touched by another angel. You’re mine.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot upwards. Hearing Cas claim him as his was weirdly erotic. If only that were true. He nodded his understanding, it made sense when he thought about it. And it answered his unasked question about where he was sleeping. Then a thought occurred to him. “Why are there beds for you guys, anyway?”

Cas sat down on the edge of the soft looking bed. “This plane works differently than Heaven and Earth. You can see my wings, for example. I also have needs like hunger and sleep as long as I’m here. The other reason for the bed is... well, I’m sure you’ve already guessed.”

Dean chuckled and moved to sit beside Cas. He took a deep breath and had to refrain from stroking his friend’s wings. The urge was overwhelming.

“Dean? Would you do me a favor?” Cas asked quietly.

His heart leapt. Please be sexual, please be sexual. He nodded. “Sure?”

Cas looked at him in earnest. “Say my name.”

He smiled. “Heya, Cas.” At the angel visibly relaxing, Dean decided to have a little fun. “Or would you prefer, ‘Castiel’?” He tilted his head in feigned coyness.

Cas chuckled lightly and Dean was happy he had managed to be the cause of that smile. “‘Cas’ is fine. I like that you shortened my name. No one had ever done that before.”

“Hazard of being friends with me. I’ll always give you a nickname.”

Cas looked at him for a moment, a soft smile playing around his lips before he looked out of the large bay window. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the stained glass, cascading soft primary colors against the stone floor. “We’re expected at a gathering. I wish I could let you stay here in this room, but... you have to come with me.”

“What’s the gathering for? Do you think we’ll find Sammy there?” His voice lilted upwards in a hopeful tone. They’d only been in Limbo for a few hours and already the plane was starting to mess with Dean’s mind. He was ready to go home.

Cas gave him a contemplative look before he shook his head. “I don’t think Sam will be there, but it could be an opportunity to find out his possible whereabouts. I’ll use this occasion to ask around. The gathering is being held because I’m a guest of this house. Barachiel is using my presence to get influence in the political game of this city. It’s a display of power; games for other angels’ entertainment. There will be food and probably some staged fights between creatures. I wouldn’t be surprised if we were to witness more sexual acts, like in the bath house.” Cas scrubbed his hand over his face again. “I want you to kneel next to me. Your task is to feed me and fill my Talho, my cup. You’ll receive food afterwards, in private quarters from one of the house slaves.”

Dean nodded. “Are we leaving soon? Or can we pretend things are normal for a little while longer?”

“We have to get ready soon. I need to change into other clothes. You, too.” Cas stood up from the bed and walked up to the wardrobe to pull out something that looked like a roman toga. It was embroidered with golden Enochian symbols. “Check the drawer, Dean. There should be another tunic in white for you and... there should be a chain.”

Dean had dreaded that. He went to the drawer and pulled out the tunic, quickly shrugging off the one he was wearing to adorn the new one. It wasn’t white, the damn thing was sheer. Dean was pretty much naked. When he pulled out the chain, it was a lot heavier than he had anticipated. Easily twenty pounds. Once dropped unceremoniously onto the bed beside Cas, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Dean.” Cas refused to look at him while he started opening the buckles on his armor.

“Why do you know so much about this place?” He didn’t really want to ask that question, he would almost rather not know that the angel he was in love was possibly a completely sadistic, slave abusing jerk at one point.

Cas stopped undressing himself and looked up at him. Dean didn’t like the flash of guilt in his eyes. The angel sighed deeply before he continued to open the last fastenings of his armor. “I have been here before.”

Dean tried to quell his disappointment, all he could respond with was a soft, “Oh.”

Cas approached him, a gentle grasp on his shoulder, his eyes pleading. “Dean, it’s not... I hope you know I’m not like them. I don’t approve of this world or how angels treat these human souls. I would never...”

As the angel’s words trailed off, Dean felt it in his heart. He believed Cas. They had come so far over the years. If Cas said he hated this realm, then it was gospel as far as Dean was concerned. He gently grasped the hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze, hoping it conveyed his trust and acceptance in Cas’s words. He smiled and moved back toward the bed, lifting up the chain. “So, I’m going full Leia for the gala?”

Cas chuckled and Dean was happy to have lifted the mood. “I wouldn’t compare you to a princess, Dean... but yes, the chain is necessary. It’s for your protection–”

He scoffed. “My protection?”

Cas nodded. “It’s a symbol that you belong to me and no one is allowed to touch you except me. I’ll help you with it when I’m done changing.”

Of course it was. He dreaded to think what could possibly happen to him if he didn’t ‘belong’ to Cas. That made him think about Sam again. He knew his brother could hold his own, but that didn’t stop him from imagining all of the horrible acts that Sam could be forced into. “Is... Do you think Sammy is being...” He couldn’t even bring himself to finish the sentence, hoping Cas would understand what he was asking.

Cas had just finished changing into the toga when he turned to look at Dean in shock. Realization washed over the angel’s face and he quickly shortened the distance between them to grab his arm. “Dean, Sam would not be used for that, I promise you. Being that specific classification of slave... a Quasahi, they are trained for their position. At the Asahi Arba, a school for pleasure. I don’t think Sam is in any danger of such a fate. He’s likely being used for manual labor.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief, but it was short lived. Just because he might be used for manual labor now... “What if he was taken to the school?”

“It’s considered an honor to be accepted there. They wouldn’t let someone in who would be defiant and unwilling.”

“Thank Chuck for small favors, I guess...” He looked down at Cas’s hand, still gripped on his forearm. The warmth was comforting.

Cas scoffed. “He has nothing to do with this.”

Dean cringed, he felt bad for bringing up Chuck. Cas never got to bury the hatchet, but there was one upside... “At least he healed your wings?”

“He just did that to make himself feel better, because he refused to talk to me.”

It was understandable that Cas was pissed. After everything the angel had done to find God, to play his part in defeating the Darkness, it was pretty crappy of the guy to not even talk to his son. He didn’t know what to say, if anything, to make his friend come to terms with his absent father. Instead, Dean smiled, put on a terrible cockney accent, and said, “Could be worse. Could be raining...”

That earned Dean a confused head tilt, a head tilt that at some point was going to be the death of him. “Young Frankenstein?” he asked in hopes of clarification.

Cas shook his head, still not understanding Dean’s reference.

“That’s it, mandatory binge watching when we get back will be of Mel Brooks’ entire catalogue.” Dean chuckled at the genuine smile on his friend’s face.

Cas’s gaze fell to the chain on the bed. “I’m sorry for doing this to you, Dean. Wearing this won’t be easy.”

When the angel moved forward to grab the chain, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Why’d you send me away earlier?” He hated how insecure he sounded, but knowing Cas would have preferred the ginger jerk over him left Dean feeling particularly disquieted.

Cas fiddled with the chain in his hand before he finally looked up. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“But I thought the point of this was for us to behave as normal as possible here? Won’t it get suspicious if you keep sending me away?”

Cas frowned and looked away for a moment. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that, I’m sorry. It’s a narrow line between keeping you safe from discovery and preventing you from having to do things that would make you uncomfortable. I don’t want to do anything to you that you don’t want.”

Dean took a deep breath. They were playing with fire here. Did he want to be intimate with Cas? Hell yes he did. That wasn’t the point. Where his fear, his real reticence lie, was the fact that he might not be able to differentiate between fantasy and reality if they crossed that line, which could be eventually problematic for their friendship. All of the dirty thoughts he had been having aside, it was still a huge step to cross the sexual line. But that was going to have to be a bridge they crossed when they got to it. They had to be on point with their performances. He wasn’t about to risk saving his brother just because of his emotional hangups.

Dean knelt before Cas, looking up to make eye contact with his friend’s downcast face. He tried to downplay his smile at the absolutely bemused expression on the angel’s face. “I’m fine with everything, Cas. If you aren’t okay with it, I get that, but I promise I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

“Even if...” Cas looked away again.

Dean moved to stand as he grabbed the angel’s chin to pull his focus back, eyes locked he whispered, “Everything.”

Cas gasped and looked at him for a moment before he pulled Dean closer by his collar and attached the chain to the ring at the front of it. Dean’s breath hitched with the click of the link fastening onto the ring. As Cas started to draw his hands back, Dean stopped him, keeping his friend’s hands in place at the collar. His eyes darted over Cas’s face, to his lips and back up to electrical current storming behind blue eyes.

Dean licked his lips and smirked. “Am I prettier than Princess Leia, at least?”

Cas tried, for one valiant moment, to bite his lip in an attempt to refrain from laughing, but ended up succumbing as his lips curled up and he chuckled. “So much prettier, Dean. There are no words.”

He tapped Cas’s hands and stepped away with a cocky nod. “Damn right.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas gripped the end of the chain harder than he intended to as they entered the great hall of Barachiel’s domicile. The gathering had already started and several angels were already seated with their Quasahi, the slaves that were meant to satisfy the sexual needs of their Geiads, on cushions arranged around a circular stage in the middle of the room. Naked female slaves were dancing to harp music being played by other slaves at the back of the hall. He could feel every eye on him as they entered the room.

Barachiel stood up and greeted him with a smile. “Castiel, we already missed your presence.”

Cas mirrored his smile as he tried to settle into his role. “I apologize for my delay. I was occupied..."

He tugged slightly at Dean’s chain and Barachiel laughed as he pointed to the seat beside him. “Sit down my friend and enjoy this night with us.”

Cas sat down on the soft cushion, aware of how obediently Dean took his place beside him, on his knees with a lowered head. He hoped they wouldn’t get any attention from the other guests for the rest of the night.

“I understand you usually can’t enjoy food at our sacred home, but here you are able to taste every decadence you could hope to imagine.” Barachiel pointed at the different foods spread out on the low tables surrounding them. The only thing Cas wished for in that moment was the ability to share it with Dean. His friend hadn’t said anything, but he was sure the man must be hungry by now. The slaves would not be allowed to eat until after the gathering, and that could take hours.

Castiel gave Barachiel a smile. “I will take advantage of that... Say, my good Barachiel, is it still Camael who I should talk to about acquiring a slave? He had quite the selection, if I recall correctly.”

Another angel sitting to the left of him cleared his throat. Cas remembered him from his first visit to this plane. Moroni, a lower class angel, was leaning over to him. “You want to find a slave?”

Barachiel scoffed. “No one addressed you, Moroni.” He gave Cas an apologetic smile. “Always so eager those ones... To answer your question, it’s still Camael. I can arrange a meeting with him, if you would like.”

“That would be very much appreciated.” Cas nodded and had to refrain from looking back at Dean to give him a triumphant smile. He would have to tell him later, when they were alone in their room.

He looked down at the plentiful arrangement of food, which consisted of various fruits, some on sticks and dipped in chocolate or honey, a variety of vegetables, meats, and cheeses; all of it pre-cut into bite sized portions. Cas took his empty cup and held it towards Dean for him to fill with the wine from the decanter next to them.

It only took Dean a few moments to understand the gesture before he leaned down and picked up the ornately shaped bottle. Cas gave Dean a meaningful look towards the food, that he hoped the hunter would understand as he carefully filled his cup.

“Venqod, I want to eat,” he commanded quietly, hoping that Dean would remember what was expected of him.

At the soft nod, Cas continued to watch as his friend knelt beside the table, having grabbed a silver platter. Dean carefully began placing different meats, breads, and fruits on the the ornate tray. After he grabbed a jar of honey and another flatter bowl filled with caviar, the hunter moved to Cas’s right side and knelt beside him. Grabbing a chocolate covered square of mango, Dean removed the stick and held the piece of fruit out to Cas.

Cas moved forward and looked at Dean before he carefully wrapped his lips around the treat. His lips grazed Dean’s finger and the sharp charge that caused his lips to tingle took him aback. He knew it was simply the static electricity of their electrons leaping and reacting to each other, but that still hadn’t prepared him for the sudden rush of heat that coursed directly into the lower half of his body.

Dean’s widened eyes indicated he had felt it, too. Cheeks tinged a sinfully pleasant pink, he grabbed another piece of fruit and, this time, brought it directly to Cas’s lips.

Cas couldn’t take his eyes off of Dean as he watched the hunter lick over his own lips while feeding him the next piece of fruit. This time Cas made sure to graze Dean’s finger again, slowly, even angling his head a bit to get more contact.

Dean’s breath hitched and Cas wondered if he could prompt such a reaction again. Before he could test his hypothesis, he was disrupted by the quiet growl of the man’s stomach. Apparently, his earlier assessment had been correct; Dean was hungry.

Cas took a large gulp of his wine as he looked around. Every angel was indulging in food with their slaves, some of them even sitting in their masters’ laps, grinding in sultry movements while they fed them. It wouldn’t attract attention if he were to do something similar with Dean in order to sneak him some food; under the pretense of sexual gratification.

He nodded to Dean to place the platter on the ground, rather impressed he understood quite quickly. Cas grasped his chain and pulled him forward, sliding the man by his knees onto the cushion with him. “On my lap, Venqod.”

The hunter’s eyes widened in surprise, but he complied, stradling Cas’s hips. His naked groin pressed against the fabric of his toga, barely concealing his own sex. After a beat, Dean finally moved to grab another piece of fruit, the man’s stomach pressed against his own as he leaned forward to press the grape into Cas’s mouth.

Instead of chewing, Cas beckoned Dean closer with a wave of his index finger. He looked into his friend’s startlingly shiny eyes, a silent plea for him to understand. Pressing forward, Cas ghosted his lips over Dean’s, and with the anticipated soft gasp, held the hunter in place by the top of the chain, gently pushing the grape from his own mouth into Dean’s.

His friend pulled back with an impressed smile, finally understanding what Cas was doing. After swallowing the grape, he was rewarded with a soft smile and a mouthed, ‘thank you’. Cas arched his brow in acknowledgement and nodded for Dean to keep feeding him.

When the hunter leaned forward again, Cas repressed a groan at the continued friction of their groins. He took a deep breath, attempting to calm his body’s reaction. He had never considered himself to be particularly lust driven, but having a, quite attractive, human grind his naked lower body against his own... Well, suffice to say it was creating a very interesting biological response.

Cas opened his mouth in preparation for another piece of fruit to be gently pressed by deft and sure fingers, but he tilted his head when he saw Dean holding an apple slice between his teeth. The hunter winked before he leaned forward, feeding Cas with his own mouth. Cas bit into the apple slice, cutting it in half between their mouths and causing their lips to touch.

Dean drew back, his smile rather fond as he chewed the fruit. Cas was starting to have a lot of difficulty trying to keep his physiological response in check. While he had always found Dean to be an attractive human being, he’d never been so irrevocably attracted and drawn to him before. Cas tried to slow his breathing down, otherwise he might lose the semblance of control he had remaining. Despite the fact that Dean had expressed his permission at having to do whatever necessary to keep their cover, it would not be appropriate to act on that for merely the sake of his own arousal. If it was a requirement for the sake of their pretense, that would be one thing; to engage Dean sexually just because he had been overcome by desire, that was bordering on deception.

Dean was holding one of the chocolate covered strawberries, Cas opened his mouth in anticipation and watched in curiosity as the man pulled the fruit to his own lips. Instead of taking a bite, he smeared the chocolate onto his lips, pressing forward with a smirk. Cas wanted nothing more than to lick the sweetness from Dean’s lips, but he hesitated. This was clearly crossing a line.

As the time and tension grew between them, Dean must have realized his error, leaning to grab a cloth napkin. In that moment Cas could no longer refrain. He grasped the hunter’s wrist to halt him. At the bemused look, he moved to grip the chain and pulled Dean forward. Their faces a mere few centimeters apart, Cas closed the distance between them, suckling Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth while he lapped up the melted chocolate.

He swiped his tongue along Dean’s top lip, uncaring what had brought them to this point, but incredibly grateful for this shared moment. A moment so intense, Cas lost himself. He cupped Dean’s cheek with his free hand and dove in, lips first.

Cas was insistent, his lips parting Dean’s own, causing the man to cling onto his arms for purchase. The electrical current between them intensified, causing little tremors to dance along his nerve endings. His head swam as he realized Dean was kissing him back. It evoked an almost giddiness in Cas. He had never kissed anyone and garnered such a strong response. When they finally pulled apart, he was rewarded with a shy smile. Something he had never seen before upon the hunter’s visage.

As Dean leaned forward and grabbed another morsel, Cas shook his head in amazement. It was a good thing he did not require food on Earth. He couldn’t imagine having to eat by any other means.

“I’m glad to see you are enjoying yourself, Castiel,” Barachiel suddenly spoke next to him, disturbing Cas’s thoughts. “He looks like a very devoted sex slave.”

Cas turned to face the other angel, noticing that he was staring at Dean’s lower body. As he followed the line of Barachiel’s gaze, he noticed Dean’s erection was clearly visible through the nearly translucent tunic.

He pulled on Dean’s chain, causing the hunter to slide further forward into his lap, which elicited a soft gasp at the sudden contact. He gently pressed Dean’s head against his shoulder in order to shield him from Barachiel’s lust-filled scrutiny. He didn’t like the way the other angel was leering at his friend.

“He is,” Cas growled, his fingers combed tenderly through Dean’s short hair, a comforting gesture that he hoped would convey that everything was fine. Well, as fine as it could be considering their present situation.

“You don’t need to hold back here. If you want to fuck him, I can have my house slave fetch you some of the best oils... like this one...”   Barachiel opened a crested silver bowl and dipped his fingers into the liquid. “This is my favorite, it smells delicious.”

In a swift flick of the wrist, Barachiel pulled his slave onto his lap. A young man, olive complected and likely in his early twenties, with eyes that conveyed a profound lack of emotion. The angel pushed his slave forward in order to bend him over. He lifted the tunic to reveal his ass before pressing a lubricated finger inside the man’s entrance without hesitation.

Cas took in a deep breath. “I want to make mine wait.” He turned his face away and closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. He didn’t want to witness Barachiel violate his slave. Cas tried to lose himself in the comforting warmth of Dean’s body, eyes still closed, taking deep and steadying breaths. His arms tightened around his friend’s torso, essentially pulling him closer. He had not anticipated the tingling of pleasure that coursed down his spine when he accidentally caused Dean to come in direct contact with his still, painfully hard erection.

Dean’s own erection slid against his abdomen, lower and lower, until another tingle of pleasure burned through his veins at the sinful connection of their sex. Cas had to bite back a moan. He knew it didn’t mean anything. This was simply a biological reaction of their position and proximity, a reaction neither of them had much control over. He gently pushed Dean backwards, so both of their erections were no longer touching. It was as much of a relief as it was a frustration. But he wasn’t about to cross a line with his friend, not if he could prevent it.

Barachiel laughed and Cas tried to tune out the sounds of sexual intercourse. He hoped the evening would soon be over, that he and Dean could return to the safety of their room, and perhaps pretend they were anywhere but Limbo.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was in Hell. He was in actual Hell. Feeding each other by mouth, being in the angel’s lap like some sort of catamite. Well, he supposed he sort of was, at least as far as everyone else in the room was concerned. And damn, was Cas a good kisser. Like, really good. No one should be that good at kissing. It should be illegal. And if he actually did learn that from the terrible Casa Erotica porn all of those years ago, then he’d hate to see the angel’s skills if he watched a somewhat decent porn.

Focus, Winchester! Thankfully Cas adjusted their positions so his cock wasn’t constantly rubbing against Cas’s. It was getting more and more difficult to focus on the task at hand. He was supposed to be playing the part of devoted sex slave and feed his master.

When Cas pressed into his shoulder, all thoughts of feeding the angel dissipated. He turned to their left and saw the angel that was their host, working open a barely legal human. He gasped and turned back to Cas, understanding why the angel had ducked his head. It was bizarre to see people... angels... whatever, just casually engage in sexual acts out in the open, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

And here he had been worried about coaxing Cas into licking chocolate off of his lips, while the dude next to them was about to be balls deep in a freakin’ twenty year old. There he was, thinking about kissing Cas again. He knew it was a ruse, but damnit all if he didn’t enjoy every minute of it.

When Dean pulled back and they looked into each other’s eyes, he was a little startled to see Cas’s cheeks flushed red and his pupils dilated. While his libido wanted to take advantage of that fact, his heart knew better. Dean adjusted himself to attempt to quell his own desires, but the friction of his movement caused the toga to ride up, freeing the angel’s erection.

He couldn’t stop himself from looking down. If Cas seemed huge while soft, he was unfathomably enormous hard. Dean had been staring for too long, when Cas leaned up and grasped him by the chin, forcing him to refocus. Shaking his head, he mouthed an, ‘I’m sorry’ to Cas. Of which all he received in response was a quirked brow.

Dean proceeded to return to the task at hand when trumpet fanfare from the middle of the stage caused all of the angels and their slaves to turn their attention away from – well, whatever they were doing.

An angel dressed in a blood red toga was standing at the center of the circular elevated platform where the female dancers had been before, his voice boomed with some sort of announcement. Damn, Dean really should think about learning Enochian. When the speaker vacated his spot, that was when he saw a couple of angels drag people by similar chains at his own neck, into the center.

Dean squinted. One of them was a wendigo, the other looked human, but he had a feeling that wasn’t the case. As the feeling of dread overcame him, it was actualized when the chains were ripped from the creatures and they immediately ran at each other. The crunching of bones and squelching of blood, a sound Dean usually found comforting, was unequivocally disturbing in this setting.

These creatures were being forced to fight to the death for the entertainment of all of the angels and humans of this plane. While Dean was no fan of supernatural creatures, this sort of barbaric, forced fight club, was utterly horrifying. When the more human looking creature ripped the wendigo’s head off, applause and cheers erupted all around them.

Dean just stared at the display around him, mystified and feeling a little queasy. Cas pulled him close then, bringing their faces incredibly close as he whispered, “Are you okay?”

Dean nodded mutely, he was probably supposed to be used to seeing this sort of scene. The grimace on his face likely said otherwise, but he forced an awkward smile for his friend. Who would have thought watching a neighboring angel use a human as a sex doll would be less disturbing?

Cas pulled Dean closer again so he could whisper in his ear, “This is a good thing, Dean. This will help us get your brother back.”

Dean gave Cas a quizzical look, not understanding what his friend meant by that. Cas just gave him a meaningful look in return and nodded, silently indicating that he would explain everything later. It looked like Cas had a plan. And fuck, Dean needed some good news after that.

…. :::: ::::: …..

It felt like a ton of bricks fell off of his chest when they had finally made it back to their room. Cas hadn’t anticipated how emotionally draining it would be to play the part of a ruthless angel with no compassion or respect for humans.

After the, “entertainment,” he had spoken with several angels, trying to get an idea of the political landscape of the city and to see if anything had changed since his last short visit. It hadn’t. For the most part, the same dominators were still responsible for their different parts of the city. A fact that would help them greatly in their search for Sam.

It was nice when things worked out in their favor, for a change.

His gaze fell on Dean, who looked as tired as he felt, fumbling with his tunic. “I’m trying to make them believe I want to buy Sam back, I’ve told them he is one of my slaves and was taken. I have an appointment tomorrow with one of the slave traders and hopefully it won’t take long after that, so we can go home.”

Dean gave him a tired smile. “You think it’ll be that easy?”

“I don’t feel like anything has been easy up until this point. I hate being here.” He sat down on the bed and closed his eyes for a moment.

“You’re not the one being dragged around by a collar and chain, speaking of which...” Dean tugged at the chain. “Little help here?”

Cas’s eyes snapped open. “I apologize, Dean.”

He stood up again and closed the distance between them, carefully removing the chain from his collar. His fingers brushed Dean’s throat and chin. For a moment, Cas became distracted when Dean licked over his own lips. He couldn’t help but think back to their shared kiss, how Dean’s lips had felt and how his mouth tasted like chocolate. Chocolate and want.

Cas quickly turned around and threw the offending chain into the drawer with a heavy clank, attempting to use the moment to rein in the way his thoughts were affecting him.

Dean looked at him expectantly, tugging on his collar. “Can I take this off?”

Cas hoped his face didn’t betray what he was thinking in that moment. Suddenly his throat felt very dry and it was difficult to swallow. “Do you want other clothes to sleep in? I’m sure there is a collection of more comfortable clothes in the other drawer,” he changed the subject.

“Yeah, I’ll look, but I’d really like to take this damn collar off first.”

Cas stepped in front of him again, expression wrought with concern. “Is it hurting you?”

Dean shrugged. “Not really, it’s just a little heavy, I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep with it on.”

His heart ached then, wanting nothing more than to ease his friend’s discomfort. Cas grimaced in sympathy, if it wasn’t such a risk, so dangerous for a slave to be caught without a collar... He shook his head sadly. “I understand, but it’s too dangerous, Dean. House slaves will be coming in tomorrow morning, If they saw you without the collar... We really shouldn’t tempt fate. I could... maybe help you relax?”

While Dean nodded his understanding, his shoulders slumped in disappointment. “It’s alright, Geiad.”  He punctuated the Enochian word, a little bitterness in his tone.

Cas visibly cringed. He hadn’t anticipated how much that word, outside of the pretense of their “roles”, would hurt. Particularly hearing Dean say it like that. More than anything else, he feared his friend would begin to see him in a similar light, as no better than these other angels. Unable to make eye contact, not wanting to see disdain in familiar green eyes, Cas focused his gaze downward at the decorative floor tiles. “Please don’t say that word when we’re alone.”

Instead of waiting for a reply, he turned around to approach the bed again. He couldn’t sleep in the toga because of his wings, so he shrugged out of the material and let it drop to the floor. Dean had already seen him naked, at this point, modesty was a non-issue. He couldn’t imagine the man would have a problem with him sleeping in the nude.

The air had a tension that was almost palpable when Dean finally responded, “Is that a command?”

Cas’s wings flared out as he whirled around to look at Dean. Why was he asking that? Did his friend really think so low of him that he needed to ask? The tension in the air coursed through his body, which worsened when he saw Dean’s angry expression. “Why are you asking, Dean? Do you need it to be a command?”

Dean narrowed his eyes before he dropped to his knees, head bowed. “Clearly I do, Geiad.”

Before he could process what was happening, Cas had his hands around Dean’s collar, an immediate and innate response. He bodily lifted Dean as though he weighed nothing and slammed the hunter against the wall. Overwhelmed by the rage and disdain he had been suppressing the entire evening, a flurry of different emotions started to seep out, causing him to be on the verge of losing control. In the back of his mind, Cas was aware that Limbo was already affecting his emotional response. He had hoped it would take longer for him to feel the effect.

A flicker of fear flashed in Dean’s eyes before he schooled his face back to an emotionless mask. “Have I displeased you?” he spat out, tone curt.

Cas had caught the fear in Dean’s eyes for that millisecond before the fight came back to every fiber of the hunter’s being. He knew Dean wanted to provoke him, he just couldn’t understand why. Thankfully, that flash of fear in his friend’s eyes had shaken Cas enough to get his emotions back under control. His hands still held at Dean’s neck, he took a step closer, their faces only inches apart.

This time there was a quick flash of confusion on Dean’s face before his mask was back in place. Cas brushed his nose against Dean’s cheek, sliding upward as he leaned close to the man’s ear. Deliberately lowering his voice to a growl in the hopes of intimidation, he whispered, “Stop playing this game with me, Dean, or I will–”

Dean scoffed. “You’ll what?”

“I’ll drag your ass back to Earth faster than you can blink and go looking for Sam on my own. I’m not going to let you endanger this mission. Am I being clear?”

He drew back to look Cas in the eye. “How is me acting the slave at all times endangering the mission, huh? Or is it because I’m hitting a nerve when I refer to you as Geiad?  I’m just doing what you told me to do.”

“I told you not to call me that in private! Do you really think so low of me?”

At that Dean let out a defeated sigh. “I...” He faltered, seemingly unsure of how to respond before he finally said, “No. I don’t. I’m sorry, Cas. I think this place is starting to get to me.”

Cas bit his lower lip as he slowly loosened his grip on Dean’s throat, unable to refrain from caressing the man’s cheek with his thumb. Needing to feel a closeness, seeking comfort, he pulled Dean closer, leaning his forehead against his friend’s shoulder. “I know, I can’t... I can’t stand it either.”

Dean snaked one of his hands into Cas’s hair, gently massaging his scalp with deft fingers as he leaned his head against the top of his own. “I hope we can leave soon.”

It felt so good to feel Dean’s fingers in his hair. The tension was melting away from his body as he slowly relaxed against his friend. When Dean’s other hand touched the side of his hip, it struck him just how naked he was. The hunter hadn’t said anything, or shown any sign of discomfort, but Cas didn’t want to cause further strain to their friendship. The stressfulness of their situation was already starting to take its toll. His inappropriate arousal shouldn’t be added to it.

“We should go to bed. I can help you ease the discomfort of your collar, if you’d like.”

Dean smiled. “At this point, I think the only thing that would help is a deep tissue massage, so don’t worry about it...” He moved toward the dresser Cas had pointed out earlier and found a couple of different night clothes. Dean turned back, holding them up. “You said the other slaves will just let themselves in?”

“Yes,” Cas mumbled as he crawled onto the bed. Evaluating the most comfortable position for his wings, he decided laying on his side would probably be the best bet.

“So, as your sex slave, would I be clothed? Or would that be a dead give-away?”

Cas chewed his lip. Dean had a good point, he hadn’t thought of that. “Would that... be okay with you? To sleep naked beside me?”

Dean shrugged. “Considering I had your tongue in my mouth, I’m pretty sure whatever boundaries there were between us are long gone by now.” He chuckled before pulling the tunic up and off of his body, tossing it to the floor. Dean walked, unabashedly, toward the bed and crawled onto it, resting his head on the pillow beside Cas.

“I’m unsure if I should apologize for that.” Cas tread carefully and, after a moment, he tried to get his heartbeat under control.

“I instigated it, maybe I should be the one to apologize?”

There was a strange tension between them, this sort of electricity every time they looked at each other. Cas’s breath hitched, his stomach felt... strange. It was probably nothing. He probably just had to get used to the food. “Are you sorry that it happened?” he asked, wondering why his voice sounded so breathless.

Dean’s eyes flicked to Cas’s lips, likely an involuntary action, but one he caught nonetheless. “Not really...” Dean’s gaze lingered for a moment before finally trailing back up and making eye contact with him.

Cas licked over his dry lips. “Neither am I.”

It was hard to think of anything other than the desire to feel Dean’s lips on his again, but that was a very dangerous path. To blur the line between fantasy and reality, knowing very well that they would never have such a conversation in their world, had the potential for disaster.

But Dean took the agony of that decision from him when he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He pulled back with a soft smile. “Good.”

To say that Cas was completely confused was the understatement of the century. It was almost like... like Dean enjoyed kissing him. He tried to not think too much about it, fearing he might reach the wrong conclusion about Dean’s behavior.

The kiss had felt like a means of comfort. And maybe it wasn’t more than that. After the night they had, it would have been very understandable.

He returned the soft smile, his voice already rough with the exhaustion that was slowly encompassing him as he asked, “Do you think you’re able to sleep?”

Dean seemed contemplative for a moment before he finally let out a tired sigh. “Probably, it’s been a long day.”

“Turn around.”

He chuckled. “You’re commanding me again.”

Cas quirked his brow, but offset it with a playful smile. “Yes.”

Dean rolled his eyes, a smile still on his face, before obeying and turning his back to Cas.

Cas laid one hand on Dean’s hip and pulled him closer as he lowered his left wing over him. He dragged his fingers from Dean’s waist to his lower back and slowly followed the line of his spine upwards to his collar. “Bend your head a little lower for me.”

Dean complied without any hesitation and Cas spread his fingers over the nape of his neck, then slightly higher into his short hair. He tried to concentrate as he tapped into his grace, starting to feel Dean’s tense muscles and overall soreness beneath his fingertips. His energy flowed through, finding all of the areas that caused his friend discomfort, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake, easing the tension out.

As his grace coursed through Dean’s body, it was eliciting some pleasant grunts and moans from the man. He could have made this process quicker, two fingers to the forehead would have had the same effect, but Cas felt greedy in that moment. He needed the comfort, needed to hear Dean feeling pleased with him. After such an emotionally strenuous and physically taxing day, he wanted to make Dean feel good. He knew he shouldn’t, but Cas couldn’t help but enjoy the soft noises that started to fall from the hunter’s lips.

Dean’s moans became louder, coming out in breathy pants, hands gripping the satin sheets for purchase. His hips swayed as he gasped out a stilted, “Cas...” He reached back blindly, making contact with the meat of Cas’s hip, nails digging in. “I... I’m...”

Cas couldn’t suppress a moan of his own, his erection hardening with every breathy little moan. The sounds Dean was making was slowly unraveling his self-control. He swore his body moved of its own accord as he closed the gap between them, rocking his erection against the curve of Dean’s ass. He mouthed at the skin of Dean’s shoulder in a vain attempt to stifle his groan.

The man’s grip on his hip loosened, as he trailed his hand lower, still writhing against him. When Dean’s hand made contact with Cas’s sex, he couldn’t refrain from the guttural moan that escaped his chest. Dean started to stroke Cas’s erection in time with his thrusts, as his moans grew louder and more stuttered.

He teased his wing over Dean’s heated skin, the way it felt against his feathers nearly robbed Cas of the last ounce of self control. Heat began to pool in his lower groin, his erection throbbing, the desire to mark Dean’s body with his release almost stifling. He channeled his arousal through his grace, pumping it in pulses through his fingertips into the nape of Dean’s neck; not so much guiding his friend toward orgasm, so much as shoving him.

In that moment, as Dean shuddered and cried out, he managed to twist back, using his free hand to yank Cas forward, crashing their lips together. The electricity that coursed through him at feeling his own grace through the transference from Dean’s lips, Cas lost all semblance of control.

He came into Dean’s hand, very nearly biting down on his friend’s lip.

As Dean’s breathing hitched, his exhale warming Cas’s mouth, he drew back. Usually rough features softened by a sated and dreamy expression on his face. “The fuck just happened?” His voice was clearly hoarse from the intensity of his climax. He didn’t seem angry, his smile was fond, yet sleepy.

Cas didn’t get the chance to answer Dean’s question. He watched helplessly as his friend fell asleep next to him.

A wave of shame washed over him then. He couldn’t believe he had lost control like that. He wasn’t stupid, he was well aware of the fact that Dean had enjoyed their encounter, but using his grace like that would have certainly made him more open to it. Guilt followed the shame. He had used his friend, he wasn’t any better than the other angels on this plane. Dean had been in distress, had told him how this place was messing with him, and sought comfort from Cas...

He couldn’t believe he had taken advantage of Dean’s position like that. Cas wasn’t sure what to do about the situation. His experience with sex was minimal at best and he hoped Dean would give him some pointers on how to proceed with their friendship after they crossed such a line.

Knowing Dean, they would probably never talk about it and he couldn’t bring himself to feel disappointed by that. It was probably better to not, “chick flick...” How did Dean use that phrase again? Cas shook his head. They had to rescue Sam. They had to leave this place.

He couldn’t let himself be distracted from their mission.

Chapter Text

Dean woke up the following morning, his arm splayed across Cas’s expansive chest. He watched his friend’s serene face and the gentle way his arm moved up and down with the angel’s breathing. He couldn’t help but smile. This was what it would be like if Cas actually felt the same way he did. Waking up next to each other.

As the memory of what had transpired the night before came to the forefront of his mind, he shook his head. How could he be so stupid? Taking advantage of Cas like that? Having teased the poor guy all night and then losing control? Dean shouldn’t have let himself surrender to his desires, but when Cas did – whatever the hell he did with his mojo – causing him to come like that, completely untouched; there was no way he couldn’t have reciprocated.

Fuck, the thought of what Cas’s cock felt like in his hand, hot and velvety to the touch, Dean felt himself grow hard. This plane was going to be the death of him. He palmed his cock in an attempt to reverse the blood flow, but the friction only made his situation harder. Pun intended. Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of Cas’s face. Those fucking lips, his mussed up sex hair... When his eyes landed on the elegant black wings framed over the bed, it all became too much.

Dean was going to have to get his act together, he was going to need to stop losing control. A rescue mission was not the place to have a sexual awakening, or to test the stability of his friendship with the angel. But all of that could wait until Cas woke up. Dean moved the arm against the angel’s chest to his side, in order to scoot closer to Cas’s face. Dean smiled before pressing a soft kiss to those lips.

When he drew back, Cas began to stir. Dean chuckled to himself at the thought of pulling a Sleeping Beauty on the guy. The sleepy and slow eye blinking made Dean’s heart flutter. He was in way too deep. Well, that made the decision for him a lot easier. He was just going to pretend last night never happened and hope that Cas was on board that train.

When Cas turned onto his side to face him, he couldn’t help but offer a smile. “Mornin’, Sunshine.”

Cas returned the smile. That was a good sign. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t pissed at Dean for the handjob. Cas’s voice was somehow even deeper and more gravelly after just waking up as he said, “Good morning, Dean. How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby.” Thanks to your awesome hands giving me the best orgasm of my life. He added silently. Dean chastised himself for his thoughts. Head out of the gutter, Winchester! To distract himself, he picked at a loose string on the casing of Cas’s pillow as he asked, “What’s the plan for today?”

Cas sat up on the bed, intertwined his fingers and stretched his arms over his head, his wings doing the same behind him. His friend wasn’t making it any easier to get his mind out of the gutter, showing off his well built body like that, no matter how unintentional it was.

“I have an appointment with an angel named Camael, so we’ll have to walk through the city today. He’s a slave trader and hopefully the one who has Sam. I will try to see what he has to offer and will buy Sam, if he’s one of them. Hopefully your brother won’t say something to give us away when we see him.”

Shit. Dean hadn’t thought of that. Sammy was pretty smart, though. If he saw Dean in a slutty tunic, chained to Cas, hopefully the kid would pick up on the situation. “I’m pretty sure he can think on his toes enough. What are you going to pay with? I’m pretty sure this place doesn’t take stolen credit cards...”

Cas chuckled softly. “They don’t. But they take monsters from Purgatory or Earth for the arena. You saw the stage fight yesterday. The center of the city is home to a huge arena where they hold games, fights, and other forms of entertainment. Since the angels from this plane cannot travel between the worlds, they have to rely on those of us who can.”

Dean sat up, facing the angel as he leaned against the headboard. “Wait a sec, to free Sammy, you’re going to make someone else be enslaved? You get how fucked up that is, right?”

Cas arched an eyebrow. “Can you honestly say that you wouldn’t trade a wendigo’s life for that of your brother’s without thinking twice about it? The wendigo will get killed in the arena. What’s the difference if you kill it in your world or it gets killed here?”

While Cas had a point, it still felt kind of wrong, forcing these poor bastards to fight to the death for the amusement of a bunch of dicks. “It’s one thing to hunt something that’s hurting people. It’s another to take it and create some sort of twisted, dog fighting ring. I think it’s sick, but I know you’re right. Sammy’s gotta come first.” Dean sighed as he thought about having to do... god knew what else today. He glanced at the drawer where the chain was before turning back to look at Cas. “Do I have to wear the chain around town?”

“That depends on whether or not you want to draw attention to yourself. No angel will dare to speak to you as long as you wear the chain.”

Cas’s answer didn’t sound sarcastic, but he was pretty sure it was. Dean let out another deep sigh. “Can you take it easy on the yankin’ this time?”

For a moment it looked as though Cas was embarrassed before he gave Dean an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I’ll try. I sometimes...” Cas bit his lower lip and turned away from him. ”It’s not important. I will try to be more careful.”

“You sometimes what, Cas?” he prodded, he wasn’t about to let that comment slide.

Cas slowly got up from the bed and walked towards the wardrobe. “I may... I may have felt overprotective of you when I did that. I don’t like when other angels look at you or say something about you. I’m sorry. I’ll try to keep my emotions in check. I–I’m just worried about you.” Cas opened the wardrobe and pulled his armor out of it. “Would you help me with the straps?”

Dean felt weirdly touched by the fact that Cas kind of lost control because he was jealous of other angels looking at him. Again, therapy was definitely a must when they got back. Dean nodded and approached the angel, watching intently as Cas braced one of the wrist guards on his opposite forearm. Without even having to think about it, Dean turned the angel’s arm over and began tying the leather straps, ignoring just how fast his heart was beating.

After securing the wrist guards, Dean focused on the the sheath, attaching it to the shoulder guard across the angel’s chest. When his hands made accidental contact with Cas’s collarbone, he was pricked by static electricity. He took a deep breath before stepping back, giving the angel a once over. “There. I think that’s how it was.”

“Yes, thank you, Dean. You should wear something comfortable. It will be very warm outside.”

“How warm? Should I just walk around naked?” While he was mostly joking, a small part of him was actually being kind of serious.

“No. No one is allowed to see you naked except me,” Cas growled. His eyes widened a little before he turned to look away from him.

Dean blinked a couple of times, not sure how to take that response. Cas being weirdly possessive was probably not supposed to be a turn on. Damn, he was messed up. Dean shook his head and chuckled. “Alright, Mr. Jealous. Then what should I wear? It’s not like these tunics leave much to the imagination...”

“The green one, the color suits you.” Cas had mumbled the last part of the sentence, but Dean still caught it.

He smirked at the angel and moved to pick up the tunic he wore the day before, shrugging it on without any fanfare. He looked down as he flattened the fabric out. “So, what will we do if we don’t find Sammy there?”

“I’ll ask the next possible angel who is in the slave trade in the adjourned part of the city. Are you hungry?”

Dean nodded. “I could eat.”

“There should be a house slave who is responsible for you. He will bring you something to eat. I’ll send for him. Stay in the room while I go talk with our host. I’ll come back soon and help you with your chain.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Great,” he muttered, his tone every bit exaggerated and sardonic.

Cas gave Dean an unamused look before leaving him alone in the room. What a crazy situation. Thankfully Cas was just as happy to not talk about what happened between them as he was. At least things didn't feel awkward between them. He moved back to the bed, sitting on the edge, staring contemplatively at the sheets. Damn, that sex had been good.

He’d only ever slept with one other man, some guy he met on the road with his Dad after Sammy left for college. And it barely counted as sex. Dean had been feeling particularly stuck in a rut at that point of his life, seeing his brother escape the life so seamlessly. John was out on a hunt with some hunter named George, so he had left Dean alone. The guy had been a bartender, nice enough. They jerked each other off in the bathroom after his shift. It wasn’t particularly bad, but the sex hadn’t been life changing or anything.

His attraction to Cas, though? That wasn’t even comparable to that long forgotten tryst. It wasn’t immediate, he didn’t drop his jaw in lust the first moment he laid eyes on Cas. No, it had been gradual, a slow build up of intense moments and staring. A lot of staring. Dean didn’t realize he was attracted to the guy until the night before they summoned Raphael. When Dean had taken Cas to the brothel to lose his virginity and some traitorous part of his subconscious screamed at him in a jealous rage.

That didn’t matter though. He’d been attracted to men before, it never meant anything, he never wanted to act on it. And then their relationship began to change. Dean started to need Castiel. He began to resent the angel for leaving, being unreasonably antsy and tetchy. Prone to drinking more. It wasn’t a normal response to someone, who was supposedly just a friend in your eyes, leaving.

And then Cas said yes to Lucifer. Completely upending Dean’s world. Which was shocking, considering the weird bond he had with Amara. He did feel inexplicably drawn to her, unless Cas was in the room. That’s when it hit him. How could he be so drawn to Amara, while disgusted with her at the same time? Well, clearly because she had forced a bond on Dean that attempted to interrupt his innate feelings for Castiel.

Dean was in love with an angel of the lord and not even the damn Darkness could touch that. He had been grateful for Cas taking the bench then, he had needed a couple of weeks to understand what he was feeling in order to better process the reality of the situation. While Cas was clearly an exception to a lot of angel rules, he’d never expressed any desire for a romantic relationship with anyone. Hell, he’d only had sex the one time that Dean knew of, with that reaper bitch.

While he knew Cas wouldn’t react badly if Dean told him how he felt, there was a really good chance that it would permanently alter their relationship, their friendship. That wasn’t a risk he was about to take. And now here they were, in a really messed up world, posing as master and slave in a demented attempt to save his brother’s life.

A world where decadence was abundant and sex was treated like a handshake. Which, under any other circumstances, might be awesome, but having to constantly be teased with the one thing he absolutely wanted, but could never truly have... It sucked. Ah, well. On the plus side, it was providing Dean with hours of jerk-off fodder.

He groaned as he recalled how intense it was to straddle Cas’s lap in front of all of those people and angels. Being claimed so publically. And damn could Cas kiss. Firm and dominating, just how Dean liked it. Thinking of how hot their makeout session had been, Dean’s cock perked up. Not even caring if someone could walk in, Dean pulled the tunic up past his chest as he gripped his erection, palming it slowly at first. Stroking up and down, thoughts drawn to recalling the heat of their kiss, the heat of Cas’s enormous cock in his hand, the mind blowing orgasm that shook his world.

Dean spit in his hand and returned to stroking his dick, a little faster, grip firmer. He imagined what it would feel like to be completely dominated by Cas, succumbing to the most base desires he would usually have to quell. The thought of being man-handled, bent over some random object as Cas lined his cock up. Slamming into him, a fast and unbidden pace, riding him like a bitch in heat.

The mental imagery was enough to push him over the edge. Dean cried out an unintelligible sound that was suspiciously close to the name, ‘Cas,’ as he came in hot streaks across his stomach. He was sprawled out across the bed, attempting to even out his breathing.

The sound of the door closing shook him from his post orgasm bliss. Had the door been open the whole time? Dean scrambled to cover himself with the sheet as he made eye contact with Gregory.

The older slave chuckled as he placed the tray of food on the ground. He walked over to a basin in the corner, soaking a small cloth in the water. When he approached Dean, he sat beside him and offered the cloth. “These sheets are silk, it would be preferred you clean yourself up before they are stained.”

Dean’s cheeks were heated and he ducked his head in shame, accepting the cloth. After wiping himself clean, he finally turned to look at Gregory. “How long were you watching?”

The older man quirked his brow. “Long enough to know you don’t have a normal relationship with your Geiad.”

Shit. That was anything but good, Dean’s body went into fight or flight mode, how the hell was he going to talk himself out of this? Before he could respond, Gregory reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Please, do not be alarmed. It’s quite alright. Some Venqod do grow to love their Geiad. It is not common, but it is not unheard of.”

Dean released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Thankfully Gregory just assumed he was in love with his master, not posing as a fake slave in order to infiltrate their slave trade and save his kidnapped brother. Dean nodded, his gratitude evident. “I would appreciate if you kept that between us, my Geiad does not know of my feelings.”

Gregory nodded. “Do not fret, young one. No one listens to old, broken slaves anyway.” His eyes twinkled as he offered him a soft smile.

Dean returned it and when he saw the amount of food on the plate, his eyes widened. “Is that all for me?”

He nodded. “Yes, you are to be treated according to the rank of your Geiad.”

“I can’t eat all this, have you eaten yet?”

The older man’s smile faltered and he shook his head. “I am only permitted sustenance once all of our guests have been attended to.”

Dean was inordinately upset at that stupid rule, he wasn’t having it. Dean grabbed the tray of food and placed it on the bed, waving for Gregory to sit with him. At the older slave’s hesitance, Dean asked, “Isn’t it your responsibility to accommodate me?”

At Gregory’s hesitant nod, Dean smiled and said, “Then I am requesting your company in sharing this food with me.”

The older slave still seemed hesitant, but he sat by Dean anyway. After a beat, he offered him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean clapped his hand on Gregory’s shoulder before grabbing a piece of fruit. “Anytime, Greg.”

…. :::: ::::: …..

Cas returned to their room after an annoying conversation with Barachiel. At least their host had arranged the promised appointment with Cas’s old acquaintance Camael, but he didn’t like the way he had asked about Dean and Castiel’s nightly activities.

Not that Barachiel knew what had happened, he just assumed they had sex after the gathering. The worst part was, that it was technically true and that didn’t help Cas’s guilt over having behaved like one of the angels of this plane.

What made his guilt even worse was the fact that he had enjoyed the experience profoundly. He had been grateful when they hadn’t talked about it in the morning and focused their attention on the original reason for why they were here. It didn’t appear that Cas had ruined their friendship, he just needed to be careful to not be tempted like that again.

The house slave had just left the room when he arrived and Cas had to stop when he laid his eyes on Dean, sitting on the bed.

The morning light falling through the window was cascading over the bed in different shades of gold and green, illuminating Dean’s skin in ways that made Cas’s heart beat faster. He looked simply beautiful, the short tunic did nothing to hide his perfect freckled skin, and his eyes sparkled with mischief and joy when he made eye contact with Cas.

“Hello, Dean.” While he had already greeted him earlier that morning, his mind couldn’t come up with anything better to say.

Dean’s smile somehow widened. “Hey, Cas.” Looking down at the platter on the bed with various meats and fruits covering half of it, he pointed to the dish and asked, “Did you eat?”

As if on cue his stomach growled and he was blatantly reminded that he had to eat on this plane. The memories from last night overwhelmed him when he looked at the food next to Dean, making him lick his lips involuntarily.

“No, I forgot I had to,” Cas admitted and sat down on the opposite side of the plate. “Are you finished with this?”

Dean chuckled as he nodded. “Yeah, I had my fill. Dude, you have to try this weird purple fruit, it’s so good.” Seemingly, without realizing what he was doing, the hunter picked up the fruit and leaned over to feed Cas. At his hesitation, Dean groaned and retracted his hand. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. You could probably feed yourself...”

Cas looked away for a moment, trying to hide the desire to feel Dean’s fingers on his lips again, and the disappointment at not having an excuse to allow the man to feed him. “Nothing to be sorry for. You just surprised me...” With every word his voice turned quieter, unsure of what he should say or how he should feel.

“Yeah, who woulda thought? One night as a slave and I’m automatically trying to feed you. We better be careful, who knows what else might start comin’ naturally to me...” Dean’s laugh was soft, as though perhaps that was a genuine concern for him.

And of course he would be concerned. One day here and they had already crossed a dozen lines in their friendship. Cas took Dean’s hand and squeezed it gently. “No matter how much time we need to find Sam, never forget who you are.”

Giving him a playful smile in the hopes of lifting his friend’s mood, Cas continued, “I will surely remind you, should you forget. In fact...” He grabbed a piece of turkey and leaned forward, offering it to the hunter.

Dean appeared taken aback, but it worked. He laughed before taking the meat from Cas’s fingers between his lips. After he finished chewing, he quirked a brow. “I thought you were supposed to feed me with your mouth?”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I think I’ll take back what I said. Some lessons in respect and obedience probably wouldn’t hurt you.”

Dean shoved him and Cas just grinned, loving the playful atmosphere between them while he helped finish the food.

The moment was destroyed when reality hit them. It was in the shape of a heavy iron chain that Dean had to wear before they could go out. Cas couldn’t look at Dean as he lifted his hands and fixed the chain to his collar. For a moment, he let his fingers linger on the soft skin of the hunter’s shoulder before he looked up. It appeared that the light from this morning had vanished from Dean’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Dean. You know I... I’m sorry.”

The hunter shrugged. “It is what it is, Cas. I pushed you to bring me, probably serves me right.” His tone was resigned.

Cas cupped Dean’s cheek, unable to stop himself from gently stroking the skin with his thumb. “Don’t say that.”

Dean leaned into the touch, bringing his own hand up to hold Cas’s in place at the wrist. His eyes fluttered shut before saying, “You sure know how to sweet talk a slave, Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “You are not a slave, Dean.”

As their moment was broken, Dean stepped back a little and bowed his head. “Well, technically, I’m your slave.”

Cas sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe Dean needed to think like that in order to make this work. The sight of Dean made his heart feel heavy and he dearly hoped they would find Sam today. The sooner they could leave this place, the better.

He turned around, thankful that Dean followed right behind so he didn’t need to pull on the chain. Cas tried to hold it loosely, in order to give Dean enough slack, in an attempt to prevent even any accidental yanking.

…. :::: :::: ….

Even in the early morning hours, the dry heat felt uncomfortable. Cas was thankful he had brought sandals for Dean to wear, so he wouldn’t burn the soles of his feet. Despite the luxury of such a small comfort, it still must have been strenuous for him, especially with the added weight of a heavy chain attached to the collar around his neck.

It was difficult to not stop every minute and check on Dean, to see if his friend was okay. He was worried, and that concern was not helped by the tense silence that trailed behind him. He didn’t like that Dean was following him so quietly and unassumingly, even if he was just playing a part.

They needed two hours to walk to the villa of Camael, two hours that must have been exhausting for Dean to endure. Cas was grateful for the cooling shadows of the entry hall where an employee of Camael’s greeted him.

It was illegal for slaves to overhear any business dealings, so he wasn’t allowed to take Dean into the office of the slave trader. With a soft sigh, he fixed the end of the chain to one of the rings attached to the entryway wall. Essentially a post for angels’ pets, a designated people bookmark, just in case a slave was stupid enough to think about running away. Dean kneeled on the floor and didn’t even try to look up.

Cas waved at a house slave and commanded, "Get my Quasahi something to drink.”

The slave scurried away with a nod as Camael entered the hallway. He was a tall angel, his feathers light brown and about half the size of Castiel’s. He still looked as distinguished as Castiel remembered him. “Castiel, I greet you like the sun greets the morning. Respect and honor to you.”

Cas took his outstretched arm in both of his hands and squeezed. “Respect and honor to you, too, Camael.”

“Barachiel was very vague about your wishes. Maybe you could fill me in on your desires while we drink a glass of wine in my office?”

Cas nodded and followed the angel to a spacious room, decorated with colorful flowers and plants, soft looking cushions circled an extravagant oak table. They each sat down on one positioned in front of the table, a slave seemed to instantly appear to pour wine into their silver goblets.

“You have my gratitude, Brother. I, indeed, have come to your home for information and possibly to get a human from you,” Cas stated with a warm tone in his voice. He knew Camael had thought of them as friends since his last visit and indeed he was the only angel on this plane Cas genuinely liked. He had never told Dean about his last visit here, nor was he planning to.

Camael nodded. “I hope I can be of more help this time. What do you need to know?”

Cas took a sip from the proffered wine, thinking of how to phrase his question. “Have you attained any new slaves recently?”

The other angel nodded. “Every district has received a lot of slaves in the past few weeks. Are you looking for something special? Worker, amusement, or just the soul?”

Cas wished Camael wouldn’t remind him of the time he had asked for his assistance in providing souls in his war against Raphael. He had been vague about the details and the purpose then. Thankfully talking about Heaven’s affairs was highly frowned upon in Limbo, so he didn’t have to justify his actions to Camael. But Camael’s assistance was also the reason why Cas was fond of the other angel. The angel had wanted to help him, so Cas could release those souls from Limbo to Heaven. Camael had been probably the only angel Cas had met in this realm who had ever shown compassion for the human souls. It hadn’t worked out in the end, which was what led to finalizing his deal with Crowley to open Purgatory. A time Cas would much rather forget.

Although Camael had helped him in the past, he still was careful about how much information he would reveal to the other angel. “A worker… I already have a specific idea of what that human should look like. Would you show me the souls you have recently collected?”

Camael smiled. “They are still raw and untrained, but I’ll gladly show you my stock.”

Cas hoped Sam would be one of the new slaves and that Dean was right about his brother being intelligent enough to not reveal that he knew Cas. He followed Camael through a large metal door and into a hallway that led to a balcony.

From the balcony he could see a sandy arena below, enclosed by impenetrable walls. In the shadow of the canopy, there were several men sitting around a table. Camael made a gesture with his hand and another angel that was down in the arena cracked his whip.

The men hurriedly stood up and arranged themselves into a line, so that the angels on the balcony could have an overview of their appearance. He had to refrain from letting out a sigh. Sam was not among them.

His disappointment must have been evident on his face though, because Camael gave him an apologetic smile. “I know they are still raw, but they are very strong. Some are even going to the arena for show fights.”

Cas nodded. “I’m sure they are fine souls… Tell me, do you happen to have a human who is really tall in your collection? Someone with longer hair and a well built body?”

“I’ve sent someone that fits that description recently to the training school for sex slaves.”

Cas felt his jaw tense as he gave Camael a calculating look. “Would it be possible for me to see this man?”

Camael quirked his eyebrow in surprise. “You know you ask the impossible. This slave is already sold, his transfer to the school means he belongs to someone else.”

Cas forced a disappointed smile on his face. “It’s just such a shame, because I like them tall and well built. I would have paid a large amount of monster souls for him.”

Camael scratched his chin, obviously thinking about Cas’s words. “I could ask around to see if someone else has a slave fitting that description. Meet me here in a few days and I can provide you with a better collection.”

There wasn’t anything he could do other than agree to Camael’s suggestion. If Sam was the one sold to the school, they were going to have to act fast and formulate a new plan. Cas nodded tersely and turned back to the hallway. “I will take my leave then and return when you’re ready. You have my gratitude, Camael.”

“It’s an honor, Castiel. I’m looking forward to your next visit. I hope everything will be to your liking,” Camael said in an earnest voice as he led Cas back to the hallway where he had left Dean. The hunter was still kneeling in the same spot.

Cas grabbed the link of the chain that was latched to the wall and opened it, giving the tiniest of tugs to silently indicate it was time to leave. Dean slowly stood up from the ground, his movement slightly shaky, appearing to be in pain from having been in that position for too long.

He purposefully walked slower next to Camael, who led him to the main entrance of his villa. The other angel stopped Cas with a hand on his shoulder as he felt the slight tug on the chain of Dean’s moving to kneel on the floor behind him. “I very much enjoyed your visit, although it was too short. If you ever grow weary of Barachiel’s eternal scheming… my house is always open to you. ”

Cas chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll see you soon, my friend.”

He couldn’t wait to leave this place and tell Dean what he had found out. He was aware that the hunter was having difficulties walking and probably needed a break before they were to head back to Barachiel’s home, so he decided to take a small detour to visit one of the many public Kurida Salman the city had to offer.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was feeling weighed down, not just by the heavy chain and collar, but by the fact that Cas left the room without Sam in tow. Clearly this angel guy didn’t have Sammy in his inventory. Which meant it was going to take even longer to find him, and god knows what was happening to his brother.

He shook his head and attempted to get himself ready for the long trek back to Barachiel’s. It had been a lot easier to walk behind Cas when he didn’t have a twenty pound weight at his neck. Dean was aching in places he didn’t even know had muscles.

He was surprised when Cas walked them into a multiple story building. As they stepped inside, Dean noticed all of the pillars holding up what appeared to be dilapidated floors that had not been used. In the center lay an open floor plan that permitted the sky and sun to provide natural lighting in a cascade over an enormous pool. Not quite as big as the one at Barachiel’s, but nothing to sneeze at either. Around the pool were private stone partitions, providing the occupants their seclusion.

When Cas walked into one of the partitions, he closed the door behind Dean and immediately unhooked the chain. He let out a sigh of relief, rubbing his aching neck. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to talk to Cas, so he mouthed a silent ‘thanks’ to the angel.

Cas nodded and held his finger to his lips to indicate that he should be quiet, before he stepped closer and touched his forehead with two fingers. Suddenly the deep ache and pain he had been feeling dissipated.

Cas pulled him closer so he could lean over and whisper in his ear, “We need a plan. Camael didn’t have Sam, but he told me that every slave trader in all of the districts recently acquired new slaves. It will be difficult to find him... He also told me that a slave fitting your brother’s description was bought and sent to the school for Quasahi.”

“What’s a Quasi?”

Cas sighed. “Quasahi, it’s the role of slave, the one you are playing at the moment. Remember, I told you?”

How could he forget? Shit. That wasn’t good. He had to repress his need to punch something, his worst fear becoming reality. “Damnit!” Dean whispered, his tone sharp and worried. “Can we go to the school?”

Cas shook his head. “He’s already been bought. The same way the chain is saving you from the hands of other angels, the same rule applies to me as well. I’m not allowed to see or speak to another angel’sQuasahi.”

Dean thought for a moment. While other angels weren’t allowed to look at or speak to him, the other slaves were. After having felt utterly useless for most of this mission, he’d hopefully found a way to help. “But other slaves are allowed to talk to each other, right?”

“Yes..." Cas answered slowly. “What are you suggesting?”

“Send me there.”

He stepped away from Dean and gave him a shocked look. “No!”

Dean shushed him for his outburst, before he countered, “Why not? I could infiltrate the place, see if we can find Sam a hell of a lot sooner.”

“Because it’s a school where you get trained as... I can’t protect you in there.”

If he was being perfectly honest, he was starting to get annoyed with Cas’s protective streak. They came to rescue his brother and damnit, that’s what he was going to do. “Look, you don’t need to protect me, Cas. It would be stupid to not use an in when we have one, especially if Sammy is in that place. They can train me to dance the cha cha in seven inch heels for all I care, you know I’m right.”

Cas looked like he wanted to disagree for a moment, noticing the way the angel’s jaw tensed before he looked away from Dean. “You would be on your own in there. For at least a week before I would have a good enough excuse to get you out. If Sam is in there, you would have to find out who bought him. I can’t get him out otherwise.”

Dean nodded his understanding. “Got it. So, how do we get me there?”

Cas rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know, yet.”

“Okay, well let’s head back and we can work on that plan in the privacy of our room.”

The angel was quiet for a moment, as if he hadn’t heard Dean, before he finally gave him a slow nod. “Do you feel strong enough for the walk back or do you want to cool down in the water first?”

While soaking in the water sounded like the best idea ever, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it, not with the looming worry for Sam. They needed to get his brother and get the hell away from this plane. Finally Dean shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. Chain me up and let’s get back.”

….. :::: :::: ….

When they had finally arrived back to Barachiel’s villa, Dean’s neck was aching again. Hopefully Cas would be willing to mojo the pain away again once they were in their room. As they crossed the courtyard, there was a crowd of people congregating around what looked like someone shackled to an, honest to god, pillory. Hands and head poking through three holes of a large wooden slab.

Cas had been approached by another angel, so as he knelt beside his friend, he kept sneaking glances back at the commotion. When he heard a loud cracking sound followed by a howl of pain, Dean realized what was happening. Someone was being whipped and these vultures were all watching.

When the howls turned into whimpers, Dean started feeling agitated. He surreptitiously turned around, still kneeling, in order to get a better look. Cas hadn’t noticed so he risked scooting closer to the scene behind the angel’s back. When he saw the red headed slave approach their direction, leaving the scene with an unreadable expression on his face, he grasped the guy’s ankle when he was within reach.

Dean whispered, “What’s happening?”

The younger slave scoffed. “He should have known better than to share food with a guest’s Venqod. Or should I say, whore?” He chuckled maliciously as he kicked Dean’s grip off and continued his trek toward the villa.

Dean’s blood ran cold. That utter fucking bastard. Gregory was being whipped for sharing his breakfast with him, and all because that rat-faced dick wanted to see a sweet, old man get the shit beat out of him? Dean was so fucking done with this place. He unhooked his chain and, ignoring his aching joints, ran to the clearing where Gregory was shackled.

As he drew closer, he saw it really was Gregory, and at that point the older man’s eyes were crinkled shut in pain. The lashes came incessantly, one right after the other. “Hey! Asshole!” Dean called out to the sick fuck who was getting way too much pleasure from hurting an old man.

Everyone turned to stare at the slave who dared to speak to an angel in such a manner. The Eight Millimeter reject hissed something in Enochian, all Dean could make out was Venqod. Just as he was about to approach Greg to try and get him out of the pillory, he was yanked back by a firm grip on his neck, before being shoved down to his knees. Dean looked up to find an incredibly pissed off looking Cas. Shit.

“You forget your place, Quasahi. I should have you whipped for your impertinence.” Cas’s wings flared in anger, causing everyone, even the other angels, to bow their heads in respect.

Their host approached Cas, talking to him in – what sounded like – soothing words. Dean continued to stare openly at them talking and when Cas saw his head wasn’t lowered, what came next was unexpected. A sharp slap across his cheek. Dean immediately lowered his head, wishing he could, at least, rub the stinging pain away.

He could hear Cas carry on a conversation with Barachiel, his friend’s tone clipped. After what felt like hours, but was clearly only a few minutes, Cas responded to their host in English, “I’ll think about it. For now, his punishment is in my hands.”

….. :::: :::: ….

Cas was fuming with anger. He couldn’t believe Dean had been so stupid. If Barachiel wouldn’t have been a firm believer in taking care of one’s own property, who knows what could have happened to Dean... Insulting an angel... He could have been thrown into the arena for that.

The moment the door to their room was slammed shut, Dean immediately knelt down again. “Dude, I’m sorry, but–”

“Shut up!” Cas paced up and down their room to calm down, but it was proving to be rather difficult. His anger raged in his body, burning like fire through his veins. He knew that Limbo had already started to affect his emotional state, although he tried to deny the fact to himself. He just wished he had more time before he would be compromised by this realm. “You have no idea how stupid and dangerous that was! They could have thrown you in the arena for that! And how do you think you can help Sam if you’re dead?”

Dean narrowed his eyes and stood up. “How can you be okay with what they’re doing? Aren’t you even a little bit pissed off at your disgusting family treating a kind, old man like that? I get you’re pissed, but come on, man! It’s not right and you know it!”

Cas stared at him with disbelieving eyes. “I told you before we came here not to intervene with their customs. We can’t change this realm. We are here to save your brother, nothing more! If you can’t play this role, I will send you home.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, have I not been the perfect little whore for you? I fuck up once, because that was just plain wrong and you know it. I’m not gonna apologize for standing up for what’s right. You should–”

Cas slapped Dean’s face, the shock of the strike halting the hunter’s words.

Dean gripped his cheek, astonishment on his face. After a moment of contemplation, the hunter’s eyes grew dark in his apparent anger. “Forgive me, Geiad,”  he spat, not sounding even remotely apologetic.

…. :::: :::: …..

Dean could see Cas’s eyes turn cold before he suddenly wrapped his hand around Dean’s throat and yanked him up from the floor, dragging him over to the wardrobe beside the bed. Dean was forcefully bent over the wardrobe when the angel leaned against his back and pushed his head onto the wooden surface. He heard as his chain was latched to a ring on the wardrobe’s surface, so close that Dean could feel the reverberations of the sharp click.

Dean’s anger instantly vanished, replaced with actual, legitimate fear. He couldn’t ever remember being this frightened of his best friend, but in that moment, he felt real trepidation. He had no idea what Cas was planning on doing to him. “Cas... Cas, please,” he begged, his voice trembling.

Cas still had his hand on the back of his head, although he had eased up on the pressure. Without warning, he pushed Dean’s face against the wooden surface of the wardrobe again, but this time he held Dean’s head in place. It hurt. The pressure of the collar, the grainy texture of the wood making patterns in his cheek. It really fucking hurt.

Dean could taste blood on his lip. “What... what are you gonna do?”

“Say my name,” Cas growled in his ear.

What was the angel asking? Did Cas want him to call him by his actual name or his title? Considering he was now involuntarily cast as Maggie Gyllenhaal in Secretary, he would have to make a decision and hope it was the correct one. After a beat, Dean finally cried out, “Geiad!”

Cas’s free hand was suddenly at the edge of his tunic, lifting it up to expose his ass. “You want my forgiveness, Quasahi ?”

Dean was overwhelmed with a bizarre combination of fear and arousal. How had they come this far? What the hell was this plane doing to them? In that moment he knew he needed to continue to play his part. He nodded against the hand holding his head down. “Yes, Geiad, please.”

Cas forcefully tugged Dean’s hair, pulling his head back as far as the chain allowed in order to bring his face upward. For a moment he struggled to breathe, as though he were being strangled while the collar pressed against his larynx. “You will never question me again. You are mine. You do as I say. Do you understand these rules, Quasahi?”

“Yes,” he gasped out.

Cas dropped Dean's head back on the dresser. He could finally breathe again. Which was short lived when he felt Cas’s other hand on him again. His breath was caught in his throat when the angel’s fingers slowly traced a feather light trail down his spine, towards his ass.

What the hell was happening? Was Cas about to fuck him against the dresser? While that thought was absolutely one of his favorite fantasies, this was becoming all too real, far too fast. Dean couldn’t protest though, it wasn’t his place to, not in that moment. How far was Cas going to take this? Did the angel even realize what he was doing anymore?

Dean was so conflicted, his breathing hitched when he felt the angel’s finger caress the cleft of his ass. This was going to happen. His friend was so freakin’ lost in whatever it was that was happening to them on this plane. A lust-driven power-trip. He wondered if Cas was even aware of what was going on. Well, fuck it, if he was literally about to be made an angel’s bitch, then he’d be damned if it was going to be on anything but his own terms. “If you’re gonna fuck me, then just fucking do it,” he challenged.

That comment earned him another display of dominance when Cas pulled him up by his hair just to slam his face against the wardrobe surface again. Cas bent over him, the metal of his armor scraping over Dean’s exposed skin. “I thought you had learned your place by now, Quasahi. Or do you just want to be punished? You are already hard, little whore.”

Dean cringed. Cas was right. As messed up as the whole situation was, his dick had never been more hard. He had no idea how to answer. While a part of him wanted to say something, anything, to snap Cas out of his power trip; another part of him, the dark part, kind of wanted to see how far the angel would go. Finally he breathed an ardent, “I know my place, Geiad. It’s beneath you.”

He could feel Cas’s fingers spread his ass cheeks before one of his digits pushed against Dean’s rim. “Do you think you can handle being my whore? Serving me, compliant and submissive? Do you think you can handle me fucking you without any preparation?”

Dean knew the answer to all of the questions was a hard, fast, ‘no’. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Yes.” It came out in a whisper.

He braced himself for the pain that would inevitably follow, but instead he heard a clicking noise as Cas unhooked the chain from the wardrobe. “Sit on the bed, Dean. I will heal your wounds now.”

What… the actual fuck... just happened? Cas went from terrifying authoritarian to sounding like he was talking about the weather. Initially Dean was confused, but that gave way to unadulterated anger. Was what just happened a fucking game? Dean stood up, seeing Cas walking toward the bed, he charged. Shoving himself bodily into the angel, causing them to fall onto the bed. As Cas landed on his back, Dean straddled the angel’s hips and gripped his wrists, holding them above Cas’s head. “Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck just happened?”

As Cas half-heartedly fought against him – he knew it was half-hearted because the bastard was strong enough to buck him off – Dean leaned forward, his face a few inches from the angel’s. “Am I a fucking game to you?” he hissed.

“Quite the opposite. What I did to you was nothing compared to what will happen to you tomorrow. I wanted to give you a glimpse of the things that will happen in that school when you get there. That is going to be your punishment for your behavior in the courtyard earlier. It’s also going to be your chance to find Sam. But if you fail at submission, like you failed right now, they will kill you.” To emphasize his point, Cas swiftly turned them around on the bed, reversing their positions. Holding Dean down by his wrists in immovable strength, as though the angel was made out of stone.

Dean grunted at the shift in position, still unfathomably angry. He squirmed against the tight grip on his wrists. “What’s the matter, Cas?” He bucked his hips up, grinding his erection against the angel’s groin. “Me begging you to fuck me not compliant enough for you?”

Cas looked down at him, disappointment in his eyes. “You foolishly attacked me, even though you know I can easily overpower you. You can’t keep your emotions in check. I’m worried that because of these things, you will fail. It’s far too easy to provoke you.”

“Like you’re such a fucking saint.” Dean was able to get one of his wrists free, he had a split second of time. He grabbed Cas by the silver sheath against his chest and pulled him down, crashing their lips together. When the angel gasped, Dean bit Cas’s lower lip so hard, he drew blood. He was weirdly satisfied with getting one up on the angel, although he was sure it would be short-lived.

Dean dropped his head back down on the bed and waited for whatever Cas planned to do to him for that move. For some reason, the angel’s calm and soft tone was making him even more angry.

Cas let him go and rubbed the back of his hand over his lip to wipe away the blood. His stormy eyes gave Dean a quick once over before he got off of the bed and stepped away. “I’ll call one of the house slaves to find you another room. You won’t stay here tonight. I’ll fetch you in the morning prior to your departure for the school.”

“Wait,” he cried out. Surprisingly, Cas did stop, turning back to face him, his expression stony and cold. This wasn’t what Dean had wanted. When had everything become some damn complicated? Dean took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Please don’t send me away tonight. Not if you’re sending me to that school.” He hated begging, but if he was housed where the other slaves were, he would probably slit that ginger fuck’s throat, and then where would they be?

Cas seemed contemplative for a moment before letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “Alright... Dean, do you understand why I did this to you?”

What a loaded question. Considering he was sprawled out on their shared bed, a collar around his neck, having almost reenacted a scene from Oz... No, he couldn’t even begin to fathom what had been the angel’s reasoning.

Dean sat up. “Not really, 'cause the thing is, Cas, I’m well aware of what I’m probably going to have to face in a place like that. I mean, maybe not details like... I don’t know... How big the cocks will be of the fuckers who plan to rape me. But trust me, I’m not going into this thinkin’ it’s gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. What I don’t get, what I don’t understand, is why my best friend made me think he was going to rape me.”

Cas went back to the bed and sat next to Dean. “How did you feel when you were in that position? When you couldn’t move and you didn’t know what I was going to do?”

He scoffed. Cas wasn’t getting the point. “I was scared, I was absolutely fucking terrified and you know why?”

“Because you don’t trust me. You thought I was like them. That I had changed. You didn’t trust me.”

Dean let out a bitter laugh. “I trust you more than I trust anybody, but the thing is, I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared for you. You think I’m new to rape? Think it’s something I didn’t have to deal with stuck in Hell for forty years? Well, here’s a newsflash for you: I’m not stupid and I’m not going to break. But you don’t trust me to handle myself. You’re treating me like I’m this breakable thing that needs protection. I’ve got this and what I need, more than anything else, is to know you’ve got my back. Five minutes ago? You only physically had my back.”

Cas shook his head. “Why were you scared for me?”

At that Dean softened, he let out a deep exhale before answering, “Because I know you’d never forgive yourself if you did what I thought you were going to do. You don’t deal with guilt well and you know it. I don’t think you’re like them, Cas, but I honestly didn’t know if you got lost in the moment or what...”

Cas looked down at the sheets with a sad expression. “So, you really believed for a moment I would do something like that?” Before Dean could respond, the angel continued, “You know... You won’t be raped in the school. No one will have sex with you. They will play mind games with you, they will try to break you. I know you are strong, Dean. I know what you endured in Hell, probably better than you realize. I just want you to know that whatever they are going to do you, it’s not real. You need to trust me. It’s not that I don’t believe in your strength, I’m just terrified to lose you.”

Dean got up on his knees and crawled to Cas, invading the angel’s space before cupping his face in his hands. “You won’t lose me, you get me? You’re stuck with me until you finally get fed up and leave, okay?”

Cas gave him a soft smile. “So, never?”

Despite everything that had happened between them, despite the pain, the anger, the fear; in that moment, he had never been more in love with someone in his entire life. Damnit. This entire mission was fucked. In the morning he was being sent to some brainwashing sex slave camp, and they still weren’t any closer to finding Sammy. He stared into those earnest eyes, getting a little lost in the moment.

Dean pressed forward, capturing Cas’s lips in a gentle kiss. He didn’t deepen it, there was no need to. The comfort of the angel he was in love with letting him kiss him in such a vulnerable and tense moment, it was more than enough to satiate him. To ground him. When Dean pulled away, he left a small kiss on the lip he had punctured earlier with his teeth.

Cas’s expression was a mixture of genuine surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place. The angel blinked a few times and then frowned at Dean. “Is it okay if I heal the damage to your body?” The request was almost timid.

Dean nodded. “On one condition...”

Cas tilted his head expectantly.

He smiled. “Do it with your lips.”

Dean knew that look on Cas’s face. It was the same look when they had visited that brothel all of those years ago, when the goofy virgin was faced with a half-naked lady of the night. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Dean?”

He laughed. “It’s a fucking terrible idea.” Before the angel could respond, he leaned forward and kissed Cas again.

This time, their kiss was anything but a means of comfort. He licked into Cas’s mouth, eliciting a sharp intake of breath that was followed by a deep moan. He hoped the angel wouldn’t push him away, he needed this. He needed to feel close to Cas, to ground himself in the warmth and kindness he had been accustomed to from his friend.

The angel wasn’t cruel, he wasn’t vicious, Dean needed to remember that, he needed to stop getting lost in the warped reality they had found themselves in. So, in that moment, the only way Dean could grasp onto their reality, the true and gentle nature of his friend, was to seek purchase through a kiss.

It didn’t help, considering he was in love with the guy, but more than anything, Dean wanted something tangible to cling onto. Something to think back on with fondness before he spent, who knows how much time being re-trained. Something good, especially considering this was their last night before they would be separated.

Cas did more than just not stop Dean, he kissed him back. As he got lost in the sensation of Cas slipping his tongue in his mouth, gentle but demanding, Dean almost didn’t feel the angel wrap his hand around the back of his head, fingers gently sprawled over the nape of his neck. Dean could feel the warmth spread throughout his body. He sighed in relief as all of the tension and pain began to seep out. Even though Cas had his fingers on the same spot as he had last night, he tried to not feel a little disappointed at the lack of overwhelming lust. The healing felt good, but no different from the million other times Cas had healed him.

He had to stifle a whimper when the angel broke their kiss.

Cas leaned back to look at him. “Do you feel better?”

Dean nodded, trying to understand what was going on in his friend’s head. Cas now seemed shy and insecure, the exact opposite of what he had come to expect from the angel since they had arrived to this awful plane. Dean watched with intense focus as his friend stood up, stepped away from the bed, and began to undress.

In a world of monsters being used for violent and gory entertainment. A world where angels dominated a plane through excessive debauchery and enslavement. A world where humans surrendered their free will to the whims of a supposed sovereign species. Dean found solace in his friend’s arms and he didn’t care how selfish he was being in that moment, he needed the comfort, the solidity of their connection.

Dean had to give it one last try, perhaps he needed to be a little more forthcoming. He’d show Cas what he wanted from him, it would be up to the angel if he wanted to give it. “Would you like help with that?”

Cas chewed his lower lip before he nodded. That was a good sign. Dean hastily pulled his tunic over his head and threw it on a chair next to bed, before he walked up to Cas. His friend swallowed thickly before he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. Another good sign.

Dean gave his friend a soft smile as he stepped in front of him. Slowly and carefully, he unbuckled the straps of the angel’s armor. Hands stilled at the shoulder plates, he wondered when and where Cas had worn this attire before. What the angel had looked like then. Clearly, it had to have been before Cas took over Jimmy Novak’s vessel, but somehow the armor fit him like a glove.

He took his time removing the straps, caressing Cas’s chest before he stroked downward to the angel’s wrists, opening the guards. Touching Cas felt like electricity was flowing under his skin. After grabbing the guards and tossing them to the floor, Dean’s hands found their way back to the angel’s pecs. Cas’s eyes fluttered closed when his hands made their way down the angel’s torso, trailing along the hard lines of his stomach. Dean used his fingers to trace Cas’s tattoo, before his hands finally fell to the buckle at his friend’s pelvis.

“Dean...” Cas’s voice was breathy, somewhere between a plea and a groan.

“Hmm?“ Dean replied, focused on his task as he opened the buckle on Cas’s pants. As the garment fell, he ghosted his fingers over Cas’s thick erection.

“Go to bed, I’ll handle the rest.”

Dean hesitated for a moment, even though his physical response up to that point was receptive, Cas was pushing him away again. He let out a resigned sigh. If Cas really was uncomfortable with getting physical with Dean, then he wasn’t going to push him. He tried to not feel disappointment in that. Their roles on this plane were snapping his concept of reality. In the real world, randomly kissing your best friend is not commonplace after an almost fuck fight.

Dean returned to the bed and watched as Cas removed the rest of his armor. He couldn’t help but stare at Cas’s thick cock. At least his body seemed to have enjoyed being touched, if the hard erection was anything to go by. Maybe it was just a physiological reaction to being touched as opposed to actual attraction or desire? Again, Dean tried to not feel disappointed by that.

After a beat, Cas crawled onto the bed, folding his wings behind his back as he laid down on his side. A soft, almost unreadable expression on his face, he asked, “Would you sleep in my arms, Dean?”

Dean smiled. At least he wasn’t the only one seeking physical comfort, even if they weren’t quite on the same page. He crawled toward the angel, moving to lay on his right side, essentially becoming the little spoon. Dean rested his head against Cas’s right arm, while the angel’s left arm snaked over his chest. His back was pressed against his friend’s torso, his ass dangerously close to the angel’s groin.

To avoid any discomfort, for both of them, Dean kept his hips a little further out than the rest of his body, while still pressed comfortably against Cas. Suddenly, Cas’s left wing flared up and then draped over both of them. They were encased in a blanket of soft feathers. Dean turned his head up as much as the collar would let him. “Cas?”

He could feel the angel’s breath, hot against the back of his neck as he let out an exhale. “Yes, Dean?”

Wanting to look his friend in the eyes, Dean turned over onto his back, neck still resting against Cas’s right arm. He looked up into soft, tired eyes. “Does it freak you out when I kiss you?”

For a moment Cas broke their eye contact before he looked at Dean again. “No...” It sounded more like a question.

“You don’t sound so sure...” He chuckled.

“I... I‘m not sure why you did it.”

The million dollar question. Or, well, statement. Dean couldn’t very well tell Cas why he kissed him any of the times he did. The reasons varied and he couldn’t tell him the truth behind all of them. The fact that he’d been in love with Castiel for six years would probably make his friend uncomfortable, or worse, make him feel sorry for Dean. He figured a half-truth would be a good enough answer, “I know this will probably sound crazy, but I did it because I needed to remember you as I know you. Sweet and kind, not scary and commanding. Does that make sense?”

Cas looked like he wanted to say something, before he blinked and looked away for a moment. “I see...”

Dean reached up and touched Cas’s chin, urging the angel to look at him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Cas bit his lower lip before he leaned over and kissed Dean. It was a short, soft kiss, and over before Dean could react. When Cas leaned back again he wasn’t as far away as before. “Would it help you if we were to kiss a little more tonight?”

They were venturing into dangerous territory. While there would be some validity to finding solace in each other for the night, Dean was playing with fire. He didn’t want to take advantage of the angel any more than he already had. It wasn’t Cas’s fault that Dean was irretrievably in love with him. Well, actually – it kind of was.

Dean gave his friend a somewhat somber look. “Before I answer that, I need to know if this is weird or uncomfortable for you. I don’t want you to kiss me because of some sort of guilt-ridden obligation.”

Cas shook his head slightly. “It’s not weird. I’m just not used to this... I... like it.”

That was good enough for Dean. They could deal with the fallout of all of the lines they crossed later. After they got the hell out of this awful plane. He lifted his hand to Cas’s cheek, tenderly caressing it as he gave him a smile. “Me, too.”

Cas seemed to get the hint and adjusted his position slightly to lean over Dean. Before he could even process what was happening, Cas’s lips were on his. A frenzied sort of passion, unlike anything Dean had ever experienced in his life. He suddenly understood why people describe kissing as melting, because he swore he could feel his body dissolve into a damn puddle. The tenderness quickly morphed into something more intense, more demanding.

He moved bodily on top of Dean then, uncaring that their cocks were rubbing against each other. Dean groaned into the angel’s mouth, his veins throbbing from the intensity of every sensation. When Cas growled against his lips, the sound reverberated in waves down his entire body, causing his cock to twitch in excitement. Dean gripped Cas’s hair to pull him away and before the angel could react, he started trailing soft bites and kisses down his neck.

Just above Cas’s collarbone, Dean latched on, sucking the pliable skin into his mouth, eliciting a soft hiss of pleasure from the angel. He pulled off, pleased with the darkening blotch of redness slowly beginning to form. If Dean’s neck had to be marked by ownership, it was only fair that went both ways.

Dean pushed at Cas, forcing the angel onto his back, his wings spreading out beneath his form. The look in his friend’s eyes appeared confused. Well, not for long. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips before he started his exploration of Cas’s body. He straddled his friend’s hips and began tracing the lines and contours of Cas’s chest, with his tongue. The whimpers and sighs escaping the angel’s lips were probably the best sounds Dean had ever heard.

Dean crawled down the angel’s body, until his face was mere inches from Cas’s cock. Engorged from blood and lust, it was too damn tempting. He licked up the length of the angel’s sex, causing his friend to gasp. “Dean, what are yo–”

He didn’t let him finish that thought, firmly gripping the base of the cock and guiding it to his mouth. Dean had never sucked a dick before, but he knew what he liked. He tongued the sensitive area at the base of the head as he started a rhythmic bob, sucking Cas down as far as he could. Dean got about halfway before the huge cock choked him.

Maybe that school would teach him how to deepthroat? Dean began stroking Cas’s cock in rhythm with his sucking, meeting his own fist with his lips with every movement. He ignored the ache in his jaw, too fucking turned on from pleasuring his friend. From the sinful sounds, the breathy moans escaping Cas’s lips. Who would have thought giving a blowjob was just as stimulating as receiving one?

There was something particularly sensual about having a dick in his mouth. Dean found he really liked the sensation, Cas’s hot and heavy length stretching his mouth wide, the way his saliva helped lubricate the rhythm of his sucking, the taste of Cas’s precum on his tongue. As he quickened his pace, he turned to look up.

Cas was staring down at him, blues eyes blazing with lust. When Dean felt the angel snake his hand into his hair, guiding his mouth a little lower with every bob, he couldn’t help but groan around the cock in his mouth. The reverberations of his groan caused Cas to buck upwards, actually choking Dean.

He pulled off for a moment, rubbing his aching jaw and to catch his breath. Cas took their brief moment of respite to sit up, cupping Dean’s face, rubbing his thumb over his lips. Likely bright and red from being stretched around a large cock. He sucked the angel’s thumb into his mouth, causing Cas to groan. Dean smirked and gently bit the thumb before pulling off and lowering his head again, taking Cas into his mouth as far as he could.

Dean palmed his own erection with his free hand as he continued to bring Cas closer and closer to the proverbial edge, circling his tongue over the head of his friend’s cock in a teasing motion before attempting to swallow him down further and further with each bob. When Cas cried out Dean’s name in an, almost panicked, groan; he pulled off and stroked the cock, watching in fascination as Cas spilled all over his hand and lower abdomen.

Dean raised the come covered hand to his mouth, tentatively poking his tongue out to see how Cas tasted. It wasn’t bad, a little bitter. If there was a next time, he would definitely swallow. When he looked up at Cas’s face, his expression was unreadable. Dean let out a nervous chuckle. “Uh... You didn’t specify where we would kiss?” He offered as his excuse for what had just happened between them.

…. ::::: :::: ….

For a moment Cas just stared at him before he shook his head slightly.

“You’re right, I didn’t,” he mumbled, still dazed, before pulling Dean onto his lap and kissing him; a deep exploration that evoked the most intense tingling sensation to course through his body. Cas could taste himself on Dean's tongue. While the taste itself wasn't particularly arousing, it was the method in which he had been enlightened. Cas had never had occasion to explore and be explored in such a way, he never realized that sexual acts could be so intoxicating.

He softly pushed Dean down on the bed before he knelt beside him to look at his beautiful body, flushed with arousal. He let his palms wander over the hunter’s chest, rubbing his thumb over the man’s nipples. Dean inhaled sharply when Cas leaned down to lick over his right nipple, circling it with his tongue before softly grazing his teeth over the bud. At the hiss of pleasure, he began his trail downward, leaving soft kisses in his wake from Dean’s chest to his stomach. Cas slid lower down their bed, stroking Dean’s hipbones and thighs. Cas garnered immense pleasure from the whimpers he pulled from the hunter’s lips as he began to sketch Enochian letters on the inside of Dean’s thigh with his tongue.

He pulled back to blow a cool, faint exhale over the damp skin. Enjoying the shuddering that caused, Cas looked up. Dean’s expression was unlike anything he had ever seen before; a look of sheer abandon blurred with something he couldn’t quite place.

If Dean needed this intimacy to remind him that he could trust Cas, then he was more than willing to endorse his friend’s appeal. But if he was honest, the desire Dean felt was mutual, his need to reciprocate born from something a little selfish. Somewhere along this journey, Cas had come to realize he was beginning to feel lust and desire for his friend. While he was no stranger to this sort of ravenousness, every time his grace had been diminished or when he had been human, he would occasionally succumb to lust; but it had never been quite as intense as it felt in this moment. Here with Dean.

He was painfully aware of the fact that Dean had slowly become the most important person in the entirety of his life up to that point. Someone he was certain he could not live without. Now... with the addition of sexual desire, he wondered about the true nature of his own feelings. It was confusing and exhilarating. A fact that would remain unaddressed. Dean kissed him because he needed comfort. Always happy to bleed for the Winchesters, whether physically or metaphorically, if this is what Dean needed, he would gladly give it.

Cas brushed his lips up Dean’s thigh, towards the man’s erection. At the sharp intake of breath, he trailed upward along the length, leaving soft kisses until he reached the head.

“Cas... You don’t have to.” The hunter panted.

Cas licked over the head of the man’s sex experimentally, tasting Dean’s precum. A heady and subtle essence. “I want to, Dean.” It was then that an insecure voice echoed in his mind, replete with concern. What if Dean didn't want him to do this? After the unwelcome fear he had instilled in his friend earlier, he wasn’t about to allow for ambiguity. “Is that okay with you?”

“Yes,” Dean breathed out, voice low and suggestive.

Cas couldn't suppress the smile before he wrapped his lips around his length. When he dipped down to take more of Dean’s cock into his mouth, the man arched his back with a groan. Cas felt Dean’s hips move under his fingers, a barely there motion that indicated the hunter was holding himself back, trying to not fuck into his mouth.

Cas flattened his tongue against Dean’s girth before he slid back up and sucked the head of his cock. Cas could listen to his friend’s evocative, utterly beautiful cries of pleasure for eternity. But reality had to intervene, he could feel how close Dean was to orgasm. He sucked Dean’s sex all the way down, quickening his pace as he pulled the man’s hips up, mimicking the thrusting motion in a silent prompt. Telling Dean it was okay to lose control and move his hips.

“Oh, fuck... Cas!”

Dean bucked his hips up, no longer able to mute his movements, thrusting his cock down Cas’s throat. He wanted to show Dean that he trusted him, that he was safe and could lose himself with him.

“Fuck, Cas. I’m gonna...” Dean started to pull back, but Cas gripped the hunter’s hips to hold him in place.

“Cas!” Dean gasped as he came.

He swallowed Dean’s release and sucked him through the waves of his orgasm. After the final few pulses, he released the man’s softening erection and sat up. Cas felt proud of himself when he saw the results of his efforts. Dean was lying beneath him, arms outstretched across the bed, breathing coming out in heavy pants. His friend’s smile was radiant, expression dazed yet completely satisfied.

Cas smiled softly at him. “I bet you’re glad now that you didn’t specify where we would kiss.”

Dean chuckled. “Bet your ass...”

Cas slid forward on the bed to drape himself on top of Dean before he kissed him softly. In that moment, after everything they had been through, Cas was surprised to feel contentment. While their relationship was changing, he could feel it, it didn’t appear to be ascending in a downward spiral. They may never address what they were becoming to each other and he felt weirdly grateful for that, not wanting to complicate things between them as long as they had this silent understanding.

Dean pulled back, eyes steadfastly holding his gaze. “Would it be weird to thank you?”

“Yes, that would be... weird. But thank you.” Cas leaned down and dragged his open mouth over Dean’s throat, leaving feather light kisses on his skin. He felt tired. He didn’t want to sleep, but to enjoy this moment with Dean a while longer.

He knew Dean would need all of the strength he could get for tomorrow and should sleep. But Cas didn’t want to let him, because the sooner they fell asleep, the sooner morning would come. He wrapped his arms around Dean, trying to pull him even closer.

He could feel the hunter’s chuckle against his collarbone. When Dean’s hands stroked into his wings, gently caressing his feathers, Cas let out a pleased sigh. He wished they could stay like that forever.

“Cas,” Dean whispered, “the last thing I want to do is stop, but how early do I have to leave?”

Cas buried his face deeper into the crook of Dean’s neck. “Too early,” he growled.

Dean chuckled again as he pushed Cas up, locking eyes with him. His breath hitched. How had he never noticed how beautiful Dean was? It was so distracting, he almost didn’t hear the hunter’s response.

“Come on, the sooner we sleep, the sooner we can use my punishment as a way to locate Sammy.”

Cas wondered if he should ask Dean if they could still do things like this when they got back home, but he didn’t want to make their situation more complicated. Dean needed to focus, Cas wouldn’t be the one who would distract him from their mission to find Sam.

“You’re right.” He hoped the disappointment wasn’t evident in his tone.

Dean cupped his cheek as he leaned up and kissed the tip of Cas’s nose. “Get on your side and you can wrap me in a wing burrito again if you want.”

Cas bit his lip to stifle his laugh. “Wing burrito?” He shuffled to Dean’s side and pulled his friend close, the same way they had slept the night before, his right wing protectively around Dean. He nuzzled his nose into Dean’s neck and hair, and kissed him.

Dean pulled Cas’s wing against his chest, cocooning himself in the feathers. “See? Now I’m a burrito.”

“You are far more delicious,” Cas mumbled against Dean’s neck.

The hunter let out a soft bark of laughter. “You’re goofy after an orgasm.”

Chapter Text

As the sun shone through the incandescent purple drapes over their room’s window, Dean began to stir. Cocooned in a mess of soft black feathers and the sort of warmth that can only be felt in the arms of another person, memories of the night before began to infiltrate his sleep addled brain. As he blinked his eyes open, he smiled at the very soft snoring he could feel, as well as hear, from the angel presently cuddled against his back.

What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Dean wanted it to, more than he had wanted anything in his life, but reality still loomed overhead. This was a mission, a mission to find his brother. However lost they got in their roles, however far they would have to take it, Dean had to remember that none of this was real. It would do neither of them any good if these snippets of affection and passion caused him to lose his grip on where the line was drawn between them.

Cas gave him what he needed in their fleeting moment. It wasn’t fair, to either of them, for Dean to confuse that with feelings. It wasn’t a luxury afforded to people in his line of work. Hell, it was some kind of twisted miracle that he was still alive, but to expect a semblance of normalcy, some form of apple pie domesticity? Well, that was simply asking too much.

Their night together would have to be buried in the recesses of his mind, a moment he could recall at a later time whenever he was feeling particularly masochistic. The possibility, the hope. It wasn’t fair, but then, when had anything in his life ever been fair?

Dean turned over slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb Cas. Successfully rolling onto his left side, he couldn’t help but stare at the angel. In sleep, his usually furrowed or concerned brow was relaxed and peaceful. Strikingly dark lashes cascading shadows over his cheeks. His lips slightly parted, an invitation. Screw it, he was going to take one more thing for himself. Dean leaned forward and kissed the angel’s lips, his eyes fluttering shut as his mind took him to that hope filled place for just another few moments.

A place where he was in love with an angel of the lord who actually loved him back. Sometimes, it was nice to pretend.

When he finally let himself pull away, Cas still peacefully asleep, he realized it was probably time to shatter his illusion. Dean gently shook the angel’s shoulder. “Cas? Time to get up.”

Cas furrowed his brow and groaned before he turned around on the bed, continuing to try and sleep. The only word was a mumbled, “No.”

Dean chuckled. “What do you mean ‘no’? Come on, we’ve gotta try to find Sammy.” He couldn’t help but smile at the way the angel kept his eyes closed, crinkled from the force of it. Cas was, clearly, not a morning person. Morning angel. Whatever. All Dean knew was it took all he had to refrain from kissing him again.

Cas made an annoyed noise and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His hair looked ridiculously sexy, sticking up in every direction. “Please tell me we can sleep for another hour...”

As much as he wanted to do nothing more than cuddle up in the safety of the angel’s arms (and wings) and forget about what he was about to face, he couldn’t. He was too damn nervous, going into a situation like that, as adamant as Cas was that nothing too too bad would happen; reality was he couldn’t be sure. Dean shook his head. “I’m too edgy to sleep. If we don’t have a deadline, then you go back to sleep. I don’t suppose there’s somewhere I could shower in this place, is there?”

“There is a tub in the corner of the room. You can ask the house slaves for water.” Dean hoped he had understood that right, because Cas had laid back down, having planted his face in the pillows when he explained it.

Dean looked over to the ornate bronze tub in the corner of the room and sighed. So much for a nice, relaxing shower.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas woke up to the sound of water and a relieved sigh from his friend. He rubbed his face to clear his head from the last remains of nice dreams and the warmth that still lingered in their shared bed.

He knew he had to wake up. In every sense of the word. It was time to face reality and he couldn’t push it away any longer. When he opened his eyes he stopped breathing.

Dean was naked in the tub, washing himself with a sponge. His eyes were closed as water dripped from his wet hair, over his face, mouth slightly agape. Cas’s eyes followed the trail of water droplets as they cascaded down the man’s chest and over his hard nipples. He felt his mouth go dry as his body moved from the bed without any sort of conscious decision.

“Do you need my assistance with that?” His voice sounded more rough than usual.

Dean visibly startled before his features softened into a smile. He held out the sponge. “Can you get my back?”

Cas took the sponge and dipped it into the soapy water. “Of course.”

Dean turned his back to him and Cas carefully rubbed the sponge over his right shoulder. The water ran down Dean’s freckled skin, following the curve of his spine all the way down to the cleft of his ass. He massaged Dean’s shoulder with the sponge, occasionally dipping it back into the water to gather more soap.

When he worked his way lower and lower down Dean’s back, he noticed that his friend’s breathing pattern changed. He wondered if Dean found this experience as arousing as he did, already noticing his own cock growing hard.

Cas palmed the sponge against the cleft of Dean’s ass, curious how his friend would react.

Dean let out a soft gasp and reached his arm behind him, gripping Cas’s wrist. Still holding on, the hunter turned back to face him, eyes shimmering and pupils dilated. He then gently raised Cas’s hand to his chest, holding it in place. Green eyes darted downward, taking notice of his erection, which earned him an eyebrow raise. “Is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” The teasing question was accentuated by the playful smile on the hunter’s lips.

Cas licked over his own lips. “I’m definitely happy to see you.”

He was struck with the realization that this was their last morning, their last shared moment, before they were to be separated. He wanted to make the most of it, but he wasn’t sure if Dean wanted the same. “I hope this...” He looked down at his erection and continued, “Doesn’t bother you.”

Instead of words, Dean answered with his lips, pulling Cas forward into a tender kiss. The hunter’s hand moved to the back of his neck, gently caressing the nape before curling into his hair.

Cas sighed into the kiss, leaning forward to touch Dean’s chest, sponge long forgotten. His hand wandered lower, following the man’s sternum down to his stomach before he gently touched Dean’s cock.

“Is this okay?” His voice was just above a whisper as he kissed along Dean’s jaw and throat.

“More than okay,” the hunter growled in response. A low, almost mewl that echoed his own desires.

It encouraged him to wrap his fingers around Dean’s erection, starting to pump him in long, measured strokes. He wanted to suck a mark into Dean’s throat, but the collar was in the way. Not for the first time, Cas hoped that Dean would be open to pursuing this – whatever it was between them – when they got back home.

He didn’t know how realistic that was, for them to continue to explore this new facet of their relationship when they returned. But he knew he would miss it, miss touching Dean like this and hearing these noises fall from his lips, how he said his name like a prayer. Cas would miss holding Dean during the night and being greeted by his smile in the morning.  

All thoughts came to a halt when Dean grasped his sex and began to stroke him in harmonic rhythm.

That was the first time Cas started to want more. But he forbid himself from going there with his thoughts. It would be too much, breaching a line that they shouldn’t cross. This would be enough. It had to be.

His other hand grabbed Dean’s neck and pulled him closer as he lost himself in a heated and deep kiss. He wasn’t going to last like this, but maybe it was for the best. His want and desire to pull Dean out of the water and... No!

“Dean...” His voice felt like he hadn’t used it in centuries. A plea against his lover’s lips to bring him to completion, so that he could stop thinking of more. His other hand already had started to stray towards Dean’s ass a few times before he had caught his subconscious movement and went back to stroking Dean’s cock.

The hunter’s breathing grew ragged, in between choked moans. “Cas... I... I’m gonna...”

Cas growled, grazing his shoulder with his teeth before he soothingly peppered the area with soft kisses. “Come for me, Dean.”

He knew he wasn’t going to last, especially once he felt Dean’s release spill over his hand. The hunter cried out as he succumbed, Cas continuing to pump him through the pulses of his release. It was intoxicating. Dean kissed him again, increasing his pace as his other hand snaked lower to cup his sack.

Cas gasped loudly at the intense sensation, biting his lip as his orgasm overwhelmed him like a tidal wave. For a moment he felt as though he were floating in white, hot, nothingness. Like he had lost the ability to sense his surroundings, everything was reduced to intense pleasure and DeanDeanDean. The name echoed in his mind, like a prayer. He just didn’t know what, exactly, he was praying for.

When the world slowly came back into focus, he felt Dean shivering under his touch. The water was cold. He kissed Dean’s forehead. “You should come out of the water.”

He smirked. “Technically, I just did.”

Cas rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smile. “Do you need help?”

“Isn’t that what got us into this situation?” He winked.

“And is that a bad thing?” Cas asked, only half teasing. He really hoped he hadn’t crossed any lines that Dean wasn’t comfortable with.

Dean appeared contemplative for a moment, he pursed his lips as he looked up. Finally after a beat, he said, “Nah... I think I’ll keep you.”

“Lucky me,” Cas stated dryly as he wrapped one arm around Dean’s shoulder and put one arm under his knees. “I think I’ll keep you, too.”

Dean let out an undignified yelp when Cas bodily lifted him from the tub and carried him, bridal style, across the room. Dean smacked his shoulder. “Put me down, Mayo. I’m no factory worker!”

Cas rolled his eyes, wondering why Dean kept using references he knew he wouldn’t understand. He threw him on the bed, enjoying the view of the man’s naked and wet skin sprawled out on the silky sheets.

He took the towel hanging over the chair and threw it in Dean’s face when he saw the smug grin.

Dean sat up and grabbed Cas’s wrist, pulling him onto the bed, right on top of him. His friend started laughing as he tried to roll them over, attempting to flip their positions. Cas gripped his wrists and pinned Dean's hands over his head, pressing him down into the soft blanket so he couldn’t move.

Dean continued to struggle, even though it was fruitless. “You cheated.” He pouted.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “How did I cheat?”

“Well, clearly, you took advantage of the fact that I was in a post orgasm haze...”

Cas chuckled. “I was, too.” He leaned down to softly kiss Dean’s beautiful smile. “And I still got you.”

“Now you’re cheating again,” he teased.

Cas licked into Dean’s mouth, putting more pressure on Dean’s wrist to hold him down when he felt his friend trying to free himself from his grip. He nipped at Dean’s upper lip before he looked at him. “I don’t cheat.”

Dean smirked up at Cas, before he leaned up and nipped at Cas’s left nipple. The shock of it caused him to release Dean’s wrists. That was all the opportunity the hunter needed to manage to buck up into him, before successfully flipping them over. Position reversed, Dean straddled his hips and held Cas’s hands above his head. A weirdly familiar position for them. The hunter’s grin was smug. “I do.”

“Now that you’ve got me, what are you going to do with me?” Cas asked in a feigned innocent tone.

In that moment, the look on Dean’s face turned serious, his eyes flitting over Cas’s face. “I’m gonna...” He pulled Cas’s wrists together in order to pin them with one hand. “Tickle you!” He proceeded to attempt to find a ticklish spot somewhere on Cas’s person. After a few minutes of absolutely no response from him other than a quirked brow, Dean sighed and let go of his wrists. “I guess that was dumb...”

“Dean... you seem to forget that this body, although it’s been mine for a while now, is just a vessel. I have complete control over all sensations. I can decide how much I let myself feel. You can’t tickle me unless I allow myself to feel it.”

“So, if I do this...” Dean leaned forward and started batting his eyelashes against Cas’s cheek. “Can you not feel it?”

“That feels like a butterfly’s wings against my skin. I can feel it, because I want to feel you, Dean. I want to experience everything we do together.”

That earned him a soft smile. “Really?” Cas had never heard the hunter sound so timid.

Cas nodded before he turned them around on the bed and kissed Dean deeply. “Yes, I... Dean, I like this.” He kissed him again before Dean could respond to his breathy confession. A quiet noise from the door interrupted their moment.

Cas frowned as he looked up to see one of the house slaves, kneeling down and head bowed in respect. “My Geiad wants to speak with you. The escort has arrived.”

It felt like a cold hand was crushing his heart. “I’ll be there soon,” he answered in Enochian as he watched the slave practically flee their room.

Dean sighed. “Time to face the day.”

Cas nodded and slowly slid from the bed to grab his clothes. “I will come for you in five days. I... I’ll try to get information about Sam’s buyer while you’re gone. Hopefully this will all be over soon. Please be careful, Dean.”

“Ain’t I always?”

…. :::: :::: ….

He had made a promise to himself, a promise Dean knew nothing about; that he would never let his friend out of his sight as long as they were on this plane. A promise he was now having to break.

The thought nearly broke Cas, too.

Five days. It sounded like an eternity in his mind. Too much could happen in five days. Especially in Limbo.

Dean had promised to be careful and Cas knew the hunter could look after himself. But he couldn’t stop worrying. He felt more irritated and aggressive than usual, a side effect this plane had on his emotions. Side effects that would have consequences for him the longer they stayed in Limbo. His wings flared, he couldn’t stop himself from displaying them, in full wingspan, as he gave the chain over to one of the guards that were ordered to take Dean away.

It was a quiet threat to the guards to take care of Dean on their way to the school. A threat that he knew was received by the respectful looks they gave him.

He couldn’t watch. Not as they took Dean with them. He was afraid he might try to stop them. Instead, Cas turned around and went back inside of the villa, using his time to try and find new information about Sam’s whereabouts. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Cas needed to focus and trust that Dean knew what he was doing.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was escorted through the lengths of the city via street channels that weaved in and out all of the magnificent architecture. When they finally reached an elegant archway, a polished onyx colored marble, the opening was expansive, likely to accommodate angel wings. It was more of a curved triangle shape, than the traditional oval shapes. Enochian symbols embossed in a shimmering silver color.

This must be the second District; Luxuria. Similar to the first district, the streets were cleanly paved and a lot of the buildings had open interiors, pillars, and varied fountains and benches. What was different – what was drastically different – was the fact that there were several partly partitioned alcoves, lined with overly stuffed velvet cushions. Similar to the one Cas had sat on the night of the feast.

As the armed angels continued to pull him through the city streets by the chain attached to his collar, it wasn’t long before he found out what those alcoves were actually for. Dean supposed it should have been obvious, considering this district held the location of the sex slave school, but he was still a little taken aback at the sight of a female angel being orally copulated by her female slave, practically in the open. Not that any of the passersby paid any mind to what they were doing. They were partially obstructed by the alcove walls, but the embroidered drapes elegantly clipped at the sides of the partition were left untouched.

Public sex was apparently nothing but normal, especially in this district.

Dean’s cheeks heated at witnessing such eroticism, wantonly performed with abandon, uncaring who may witness their encounter. He’d always considered himself pretty sexually adventurous, but this plane of existence was making him feel like a prude. When had he turned into a repressed housewife from the 1950’s?

They passed three more pairs engaging in various sexual acts before they finally arrived to a foreboding looking building. It looked more like a prison than a school. While most of the buildings in the city were adorned with elegant carvings and gold or white trimmed embellishments, this building was barren in comparison.

The dark, matte grey building reached about four stories, as far as Dean could tell, in which the only windows he could see were miniscule portholes located at the very top. The only splash of color associated with the building belonged to the dark red twisted rope that dangled from the enclosed aperture’s ceiling, next to two enormous cedar doors that were closed. One of the angels tugged on the rope, causing a resounding gong sound to echo around them. Huh. A doorbell.

An older woman – likely in her sixties – with stern features, her long silver hair pulled up in a tight bun; answered the door. She was wearing a collar, silver with a spattering of small rubies lining the edge. The woman must have been a slave, but Dean was a little surprised to watch her eye the two angels with disdain and a quirked brow.

She clipped something in Enochian at them and the shorter angel unhooked the chain from Dean’s collar. They nodded to the woman and made their exit. When the large doors closed with a soft rumble, she turned her attention to Dean. “Your Geiad agreed to retraining in the stead of traditional punishment for your transgressions. That is fortunate, Venqod have suffered much worse for far lesser malfeasance.”

Dean bit his tongue, the urge to argue particularly strong. Maybe it was her terse tone, maybe it was the holier than thou attitude, or maybe it was the fact that she considered his standing up for a fellow slave to be a crime. Damn, he really hated this place. While a part of him didn’t want to find his brother in a place like this, he also hoped Sammy was somewhere within the confines of this asylum. The sooner they found Sam, the sooner they could go home.

Instead of replying, he bowed his head to the woman in respect. He needed to play by their rules if he wanted to make it back to Cas in one piece. And their rules were simple: submit and obey.

“You will be taken to your chambers shortly. There you will adorn yourself in the garment provided and we will begin your first lesson shortly thereafter.”

Before he could ask any questions, the woman turned on her heels and marched out of the entryway through one of the four doors that led out of the circular antechamber. Nothing adorned the walls, not even any paint. The dark grey stone color appeared to be the level of decor they were going for. The only remarkable part of the room was an ornate oriental rug that covered most of the floor.

Dean wandered around the room, resisting the urge to start opening doors to snoop around. Cas had stressed the need for servility, opening doors to look around the place was probably the exact wrong thing to do. And the last thing he needed was to be sentenced to this damn hell hole for longer than the five days he’d been given.

Five days in which he was going to be trained in all of the ways a sex slave would need to be trained for their master. What the hell are those kind of lessons anyway? Was he looking at something like a high school condom demonstration, a sort of clinical and very unsexy method of learning? Or was he going to be thrust into the deep underbelly of angel pleasure?

Dean shook his head. It didn’t matter either way, he was going to have to play by the rules. Cas was counting on him. Sammy was counting on him. Dean’s internal reverie was interrupted by a young black man, a simple metallic collar around his neck, adorned in a shimmery white shirt and matching long underwear, similar to the sacred garments of mormons. Wasn’t that ironic?

He offered a comforting smile to Dean. “If you’ll follow me...”

Dean was taken through the second door on the left side of the room, down a corridor that was reminiscent of the insane asylum Sammy and he had ended up in all of those years ago. At the end of the hall, they stopped in front of a door, rotund in shape and simple. It kind of reminded Dean of the door to Frodo Baggin’s home.

The younger slave pulled out a ring with several old iron keys. It was pretty impressive how quickly he found the correct key considering, from where Dean was standing, they all looked identical.

The room was simple. A small bed with beige linens, a basin for washing, a wooden table and one chair, and one small dresser. It really did remind him of prison. Dean watched as the guy pulled the drawer of the dresser open and placed similar garments to what he was wearing on the bed.

“You’re permitted minimal privacy here with the exception of when it is time for sleep. But if you would prefer, I can step out while you change?” 

Dean was taken aback, with the exception of Gregory, most of the slaves on this plane either treated him with disdain and disgust, or, at best, a cold indifference. It was kind of weird for the kid to offer some semblance of modesty to him, considering they were both well aware of why Dean was there. He shrugged. “I’m cool.”

That was met with a quirked brow. “The climate here doesn’t usually call for items for warmth, but I’m certain, considering your Geiad’s rank, we could provide you an additional blanket...”

That made Dean laugh. Apparently, being surrounded by a bunch of literal dicks causes humans to take stuff literally, too. “It’s an expression, it means I’m okay with you staying in the room.”

After Dean was dressed in the garments, he turned to the guy. Not wanting to have to address him as Venqod, or dude, he said, “I’m Dean, by the way. What’s your name?”

He narrowed his eyes at Dean, seemingly in assessment. Maybe he was trying to figure out how serious he was. After a beat, he finally replied, “Thibault.”

“Parents got all fancy on ya?” He smiled.

Thibault shook his head. “It’s actually a rather common name in my home country.”

The guy was speaking perfect English in an American accent, and while the United States was pretty expansive, Dean was pretty sure he’d never met a single Thibault in his life. “I don’t know man, I think your folks might’ve lied to you about that...”

Thibault chuckled. “My home country is France,” he clarified.

“Were you raised in the States?”

He shook his head. “No, I lived and died in my country.”

Either this guy was messing with him, or Dean suddenly knew and understood French. He highly doubted it was the latter. “You just happen to speak perfect English?”

For that question, Dean was rewarded with an amused smile. “You have not been here long, have you?”

“What makes you say that?” He hated how defensive he sounded. But every time he said or did something that made people realize just how out of place he was, it put him on edge. Dean had been trying so damn hard to make sure he didn’t jeopardize the mission, but every day he’d say or do something that was so glaringly obvious that he didn’t belong.

Thibault approached him and gently grasped his hand. “Do not fret, it was not meant other than as a casual observation. And to answer your previous question: the reason you hear me speak in perfect English is because in this realm, all human languages are universal. You hear in the dialect you are familiar with. You hear me speak perfect English, I hear you speak French.”

That was actually pretty awesome. And explained why all of the slaves seemed to be able to communicate and understand each other. Thibault released his hand and Dean followed him out of the room.

…. :::: :::: ….

“You have received an invitation from the dominator of Luxuria. It’s a hunt. I will accompany you, of course. Asmodeus just wants to steal you away for his own benefits,” Barachiel told him openly before he bit into a pear, the juice dripping down his chin. He used the paper of the invitation to wipe his face before he crumbled it and threw it on the ground. A slave quickly picked it up.

Cas gave him a weary smile. “There is no need for that. I know Asmodeus. Believe me when I tell you that I prefer your company to his. You have nothing to worry about, Barachiel. I’m very grateful for your friendship and hospitality, and I will surely help you in whatever it is you have planned against him.”

Cas knew how to sweet talk Barachiel, the angel respected and feared him, while he liked to pretend they were at the same level. Asmodeus, on the other hand, was different. He was unpredictable and cruel. Cas had tried to avoid an audience with him, but he was the dominator of Luxuria, it was inevitable.

Of course he had heard that Cas sent his Quasahi to the school in his district; and now he had been invited to participate in a hunt.

Barachiel gave Castiel an appraising look. “You know our ways of politics well, brother.”

“Balthazar was a friend of mine.” He thought back on all of their conversations... or more precisely, the monologues he had to endure from Balthazar back in the day. His friend had been particularly interested in the politics of this plane, seeing it as a distraction, or a fun game to pass the time. He didn’t appreciate Balthazar’s hobby then, but was grateful now that the angel hadn’t shut up about the topic. It gave him a better understanding of how things worked in the city and how he could use his influence to get Dean and Sam safely back home.

“Was?” Barachiel asked, his tone sympathetic.

“He died doing the right thing... Even though I didn’t see it at the time. He was a real friend and I mourn his death greatly.” Cas shook his head slightly. “But let’s not dwell on the past. What do you think Asmodeus wants from me?”

“If you participate in his hunt and are successful, he will gain more influence in the gathering of the seven. He can demonstrate that he has full control over his district and can handle rebellious slaves.”

“I see. And who are you supporting, despite yourself?”

“Marbas, the dominator of Superbia. He and I understand each other’s needs.” Barachiel ate the rest of his fruit and Cas hoped that Dean would get enough food in the school. He didn’t know much about what was really going on behind those walls. He just knew they had their ways to break people’s minds.

He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. “He has summoned me, so I can’t refuse the invitation. What do you need me to do?”

Barachiel braced his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “Participate in his celebrations and the hunt, and keep your ears open for useful information against him. I hear he doesn’t keep the balance of souls as every district has agreed upon. He smuggles more souls into his district than are allowed. Even humans from Earth. It’s just a rumor so far, but maybe if you hear something...”

This information could help him in finding out about Sam’s whereabouts, if he used it right. “You may be right about that... I haven’t been totally open with you, Barachiel...” Castiel feigned a guilty look. “Mostly because I don’t want to interfere with your realm. I know you can handle your own affairs. I’m hunting some rogue angels from Heaven who captured humans to bring them here. They upset the balance. If I find the ones that have been brought here and you would have a part in revealing Asmodeus’s schemings, that would mean a great deal of influence at the gathering of the seven. Maybe you could even rise up and take over Asmodeus’s district.”

He could see the pride in Barachiel’s eyes, how he suddenly sat straighter with a smile on his face. “I like you, Castiel. You’re an angel with a vision. You have my support in your investigation.”

…. :::: :::: ….

After Dean had been escorted through the maze of corridors, he was taken into a large room that sort of looked like a dance studio. Walls bare save for a large mirror at the back of the room. He’d bet Baby that thing was a two-way mirror. In the middle of the room was a long stone table, an assortment of different oils, rings of different sizes, strings of glass beads, and...

Dean’s blood ran cold. There were different shaped and sized glass and silicone dildos and butt plugs. Damnit! Cas told him he wasn’t going to be fucked in this place. Apparently that was not the friggin’ case.

Thibault led Dean to a simple stone bench in front of the table and nonverbally offered the seat. “I’ll return after your lesson to escort you back to your chambers.”

He nodded dumbly, the hair rising on the back of his neck when the door closed behind the younger man. Dean had a bad feeling about this place; which, hello! McFly! Being sat in front of a bunch of different sex toys under any other circumstance might be fun, or exciting. In this empty room, possibly being watched from behind a mirror, he felt dirty.

Time seemed to drag, not that he could actually gauge it. Dean had been sitting there for, who knew how long at that point, and still no one had come in. Had they forgotten he was there? That was when he heard a commotion just outside of the door. Instantly Dean was on his feet, approaching the door to try to identify the sounds. When he heard a pained cry followed by a litany of pleas to stop, his servitude be damned, he had to see if that person needed help.

Dean opened the door and found a sight that would likely never escape him. Thibault was being held up against the wall at the end of the hall, his garments having been ripped from his body. A large angel, taller and broader than Cas, was holding him by the neck, pressing his face into the wall while guiding his dick with his other hand to the slave’s entrance. Dry, unprepared.

Dean watched in horror as he tried to force himself in, Thibault whimpering, tears streaming down his face. He knew intervening had been what got him there in the first place, but Dean wasn’t about to watch this asshole reenact the shower scene from American History X. Without even thinking about it, he accosted the angel, yanking him back by his shoulder.

It was enough to surprise the angel, causing him to refocus his attention on Dean and release the younger slave. As Thibault scrambled to redress himself, Dean was slammed against the opposite wall, being held a couple of inches off of the ground by his collar. The angel hissed something at him in Enochian, his breath acrid and hot, saliva splattering Dean’s face as the creature continued to hiss words he couldn’t understand.

Dean had been in worse situations, he could handle whatever this asshole would try to throw at him. He disregarded the snarling from the creature and looked past him, noticing Thibault standing against the wall, trembling. “Get outta here!” Dean barked at him, trying to snap the poor guy out of his trauma induced daze.

It worked, Thibault flashed him a look of genuine concern before scurrying out of the corridor. The angel pressed closer, teeth bared like a feral dog. So much for Cas’s theory about how Quasahi were treated at this school. The creature swiftly flipped Dean around, putting him in the same position he had found Thibault. The firm grip at the collar, causing his left cheek to be mashed against the stone wall as he was bent forward.

Damnit, why wasn’t self-preservation a Winchester trait? When the creature yanked his shimmery long johns down, the reality of his situation struck. He had one of two choices: to submit and allow this horrific scene to unfold in order to continue their mission, or fight his damndest, try to get out, and suffer the consequences of his punishment before being put to death.

What a fucked up situation, rape or death? That’s not a fucking choice. The angel kicked his ankles, forcing Dean to spread his legs. His heart was hammering against his chest, whether from adrenaline or anger, he couldn’t be sure. Dean promised himself in that moment, if he got out of this place, he’d come back to eviscerate this asshole. Something prodded at his hole and Dean slammed his eyes shut, trying to find his happy place, somewhere that would take him as far away from the current Hell he found himself in.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that his happy place was the inside of Baby; Cas, Sam, and their Mom along for the ride.

Dean was shaken from his mental safe space by a sharp, “That will be enough, Netzach.”

The angel dropped his grip on Dean’s collar and hip, having never actually breached him. When Dean turned around, he was met with a cold stare from the woman who had received him when he first arrived. The angel was standing beside her, arms folded against his chest as he casually said something to her in Enochian. Talking to her as though she hadn’t just walked in on him about to rape a highly regarded Geiad’s Quasahi.

The woman snapped something at him and the guy took his leave. She eyed Dean then, brow quirked in annoyance. “Follow me, Venqod.”

She walked back into the same room he’d come from in his failed attempt to save the day. Standing off to the side, she pointed Dean in silent direction to return to the stone bench. He did as instructed.

After sitting down, the woman approached to stand across from him behind the table. “Do you understand the reason you are here?”

Unsure if he was supposed to speak, he nodded his head.

She scoffed. “It is apparent you do not. If you did, you would have refrained from intervening and finding yourself in such a position. One that Netzach would have been entirely justified in taking. That was your first test and you have failed. It is not the place of any Venqod to obstruct ours or any other Geiads of this realm. You would do wise to remember that we serve them. Whatever personal belief system you have from your previous plane, it is not applicable here.”

Dean nodded his understanding, biting his tongue to refrain from arguing. If he wanted to get out of here, he had to play ball.

“It is also apparent that you are inclined towards sacrificial behavior. Traditional punishment would not work with you. Thus your punishment for your transgression today will be administered to your Noquod, the Venqod you attempted to protect. If you continue to step outside of your place, he will be put to death.”

Dean blanched at that. He wanted to scream, but if he did that, god only knew what torture Thibault would have to suffer. Fuck.

The woman approached the end of the table with all of the oils. She grabbed an ornate green bottle, a rectangular shape with silver trimmings along the rim. She slid the bottle in front of Dean. “You are to be trained in the requirements of your Geiad’s pleasure in addition to appropriate behavior that is expected. Do you know what this is for?”

Dean shook his head, although he had a feeling that whatever it was for, was not going to be baking.

“I suspected as much. Today you will be learning to prepare yourself. As a Quasahi, it is your responsibility to insure you make the pleasure taken from you to be as painless and smooth as possible for your Geiad. If Netzach were to have taken you, that sort of friction could lead to painful chafing. It is unacceptable to not be at the ready for your Geiad.”

He had to refrain from scoffing. Apparently it didn’t matter how painful dry anal sex was for the poor bastard on the receiving end of it. Dean nodded his understanding, silently cursing every angel on this godforsaken plane.

The woman pointed to the corner behind Dean. “Deposit yourself on the settee. We will begin instruction.”

Dean turned to look behind him, how had he not noticed the elegant looking daybed in the corner? Grabbing the bottle, he made his way to the velvet lined chair and sat down.

She quirked a brow at him and clucked her tongue. “Remove your garments and lay on the side of your less dominant hand.”  

Modesty had gone out of the window long ago, considering the woman didn’t even bat an eye at the spectacle she orchestrated earlier, but the clinical snipping of her instructions was causing Dean to feel slightly apprehensive. He’d never done anything like this to himself before, and it appeared his first experience was going to be under the watchful eye and tutelage of an old, stern woman.

How was this his life?

After Dean was completely nude, he sprawled himself along the daybed, on his left side, left arm propped up on the elevated arm, back facing the woman. He’d rather not make awkward eye contact with her if she actually did intend on coaching him through what he was about to do.

“Seeing as your experience and comprehension overall has been limited, would it be safe to assume this is also an act in which you are novice?”

At this point, Dean kind of hoped that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He was about to be shown how to stretch his hole in preparation for anal sex by the damn Crypt Keeper’s wife. He shook his head, even if he was permitted to speak, he didn’t think he could.

“First, you need to relax, as much as you can.”

Dean could have laughed. You try relaxing while some perfect stranger watches you play with your ass and see how that works out for you, lady. He thought, bitterly.

“First, with the aid of the oil, you will coat whichever digit you wish to use, and slide it in. You will hold it in place until you feel your sphincter muscles begin to relax.”

Dean’s cheeks heated as he opened the bottle, dripping some of the oil – which was closer to a jelly-like consistency than actual oil – onto his right index finger. He used some of the excess oil to smear it on and around his rim, before taking a deep breath and pushing in.

It was a little weird, but not unpleasantly so. The initial pressure was surprising, his body’s automatic response was to attempt to push against the intrusion. Dean did as she had instructed though and kept his finger in place. With a few more deep breaths and time, he could physically feel himself relaxing.

“Good, now you may slowly begin to stretch yourself. First: gently move your finger in a circular motion around the entrance, if you garner your own pleasure from this process, which is not unheard of, you are welcome to experiment with the different ways to stretch yourself.”

As instructed, Dean began the slow process of stretching himself. He felt as his rim became more and more pliable with his ministrations. He bent his right leg upward, creating a more accessible position. When he was able to push in deeper, past his knuckle, he couldn't stop the groan from escaping.

Instantly Dean tensed, internally chastising himself for feeling any pleasure from this humiliating situation.

“Pleasure is a natural response, while your Geiad’s own pleasure must come first, Quasahi are often chosen for their receptiveness to such acts. Modesty is not of their concern and it should not be of yours.” For the first time, her tone was soft and encouraging.

Dean could do this, he could play the slave. And hell, if he had to be in such a compromising position, he might as well try to enjoy it, despite how dirty he felt. Breaths came out in ragged pants as he began to plunge into himself; deeper, faster.

“If you bend your finger upward toward your navel area, you’ll reach your prostate. It will make this process much more pleasurable for you. And if you feel you are ready, you will insert another digit, stretching yourself further.” The fact that everything the woman told him sounded so disgustingly clinical was a little disconcerting.

When Dean hooked his index finger and came into contact with a small circular gland, he swore stars exploded behind his eyes. He’d never felt such intense, unadulterated pleasure in his life. How the hell had he never tried this before? In that moment, Dean imagined what it would feel like if it was Cas stretching him, Cas’s cock filling him up, striking that bundle of nerves. Dean had to bite his lip to hinder the moan in his chest from escaping.

When the second digit finally breached his entrance, Dean kept his fingers still again to get used to the intrusion, to allow himself to relax into it.

After he had been able to insert a third finger into his hole, stretching himself far beyond what he would have ever thought possible, the woman cleared her throat. “Excellent, Venqod. You may cease.”

Dean had to refrain from groaning in complaint, but the reality of where he was, what he had been doing and his audience; the excitement and arousal that had been clouding his mind quickly dissipated.

The woman handed him a damp towel. “Clean yourself up.”

He obeyed and redressed himself in his garments, standing awkwardly in front of her. After a beat, she handed Dean a smaller bottle of the oil and a silicone buttplug. His eyebrows shot upward in confusion.

“You will be escorted back to your chambers until tomorrow’s lesson. You will be stretched out and ready when you arrive, this will help keep you open after having done so. If you arrive unprepared, your Noquod will be punished. Am I understood?”

Dean nodded mutely, bowing his head to the woman in respect.

He tried to not think about why it wasn’t Thibault that arrived to take him back.

…. :::: :::: ….

Asmodeus was as beautiful as Cas remembered the dominator of Luxuria. His black armor a stark contrast to his milk white skin and almost boyish features. His eyes, electric blue, framed by long white hair, showed his true age and spoke of a dangerous intelligence and cruelty; something he was notorious for enjoying more than any other angel. Cas knew Asmodeus was a mystery to most; the other angels of Limbo feared him, while lusting after him at the same time. Although his district housed the school for Quasahi, he was known to be the only angel who didn’t have one of his own. It was said that he only laid with other angels and would never take a human.

His voice dripped like honey as he circled Cas like a snake, his eyes regarding him with desire. “Castiel, I greet you like the moon greets the night. You honor my home with your presence.”

Cas tried to suppress a shiver when he felt Asmodeus’s cold hands upon his shoulder. He leaned over him from behind and whispered into his ear, “Are you joining me on my hunt?”

His long white hair fell over Cas’s shoulder, softly caressing his bare chest. Cas felt his whole body go rigid under Asmodeus’s touch. “I’m accepting your kind invitation.”

Asmodeus chuckled lowly in his ear before he wrapped his arms under Cas’s wings and around his stomach to pull him closer. “I’ve longed to see you again... I still remember how you slaughtered that rebellious angel you were hunting here, how his blood painted your beautiful skin.”

Asmodeus let his fingers trail over Cas’s chest as he spoke, causing him to tense and close his eyes in regret. Where the other angel had found pleasure in the act of killing, Cas only felt remorse. “Slaughtered” had been the right way to describe what he had done. He hadn’t felt any remorse then, because Limbo had already dug its claws deep into his emotional stability, his rage completely unchecked when he fought against the other angel. His mission had been to retrieve the angel, not kill him. But the angel had left him no choice. Cas knew that the way that fight had gone down was one of the reasons he was so respected in this realm. It had been a physical display of his superior strength, something every angel from Heaven possessed over their brethren from Limbo. And since Castiel was a warrior, it had left an even bigger impression than he intended.

He also remembered how the other angels made him feel after he had killed his brother. How they were in awe of him, or even feared him... How he felt proud of that fact. He knew it was wrong to feel that way. He was a soldier and he had to fulfill his duty.

Pride was an emotion that led to disobedience. Before he met Dean, he had been the perfect little soldier. Emotions were dangerous, every angel in Heaven knew that. He hated that this realm evoked that kind of darkness in him. Now he was even more susceptible to those emotions, because he had now felt other things since his time on Earth.

“I will enjoy watching you on that hunt very much. Seeing your beautiful feathers spread over your prey when you kill it,” Asmodeus whispered before he dug his fingers into Cas’s wings, right into the muscles under his scapulars, where angels were most sensitive. Cas couldn’t stop the groan falling from his lips when the other angel touched him so intimately. He pulled away from the Asmodeus, who raised a playful eyebrow at him. “You are way too tense, Castiel. Let me help you with that.”

“That’s not necessary. When will the hunt begin and what is our target? Did one of Barbatos’s pets escape the arena again?” Cas tried to deflect Asmodeus’s advances by directing his attention to one of his known rivals.

It seemed to have worked because Asmodeus threw his head back and laughed, a laugh that sounded pleasant and infectious. “You still remember that? What a glorious day it was to see how his men and fighters were torn to shreds by that basilisk he was so proud of. He needed months to repair the damage to the arena.”

Asmodeus took Cas’s hand and guided him to his private rooms. “It’s not a beast we are hunting. We are hunting a Venqod who broke the Ohorela.”

Cas was overwhelmed by a sudden wave of anger and worry for Dean. He knew the human soul Asmodeus was talking about wasn’t Dean, but he knew it might as well be him if something went wrong on this mission.

“What was this Venqod’s crime?” Cas asked, trying to maintain an aura of indifference.

Asmodeus stepped in front of Castiel and pushed him backwards onto the bed behind him. “He removed his collar.” The angel slipped onto Cas’s lap, starting to massage his shoulders.

“What are you doing, Asmodeus?” Cas’s voice sounded more annoyed than he felt. He hated how much his touch was already making him feel more relaxed. Asmodeus knew what he was doing, how to touch his wings in just the right spot, making him feel pliant and calm. The kind of knowledge only another angel would have.

“I’m helping you to relax. We leave for the mountains at dawn. I want you to be the champion at my side.” Asmodeus nudged his nose against Cas’s cheek, rocking his hips with a practiced ease. “I want you to be well rested and taken care of.”

Cas could feel the angel’s lips behind his ear, his voice a whisper as he praised him,

“You’re so strong, Castiel. You know how much I’ve desired you since the first time I saw you. Share my bed tonight and let me take care of you.”

…. :::: :::: …

When Dean was returned to his chambers, wordlessly and without any sort of acknowledgement from the emotionless slave, he let out a sigh of relief as the door closed with her exit. After dropping the plug and oil onto the table, he moved to the bed and collapsed against it, curling up on his side, grasping the extra pillow to his chest.

As the memories of his entire day flooded his mindseye, in a twisted slow-motion play-by-play, Dean held the pillow to his face and screamed. This place was fucked. And the worst of it, he had no clue how he was going to try to find out if Sam was holed up in this hellhole, too.

He was expected to obey, to keep to himself if he didn't want Thibault’s blood on his hands. All the while being forced to submit himself to abject humiliation in the form of sexual lessons.

Dean thought of Cas, he needed something good to focus on. Wherever he was, he hoped he was having a better go of things. Cas. The idiot who didn’t realize that he was making Dean’s feelings far more complicated and real. Their cuddling this morning, being followed by an amazing handjob and makeout session. The sex was amazing, but it was more than that for Dean. It was a form of intimacy that far-reached further than physical gratification. It was their playfulness, the easy camaraderie between them.

It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fucking fair. Cas wasn’t supposed to be so casually okay with crossing such a line. Because when the inevitable fallout would come, Cas would be fine, and Dean would be fucking wrecked. How the hell was he ever supposed to go back to being just friends after everything that happened in Limbo?

He’d give anything in that moment to be in Cas’s arms. This place was getting to him and he desperately needed the solace of his friend’s presence. Dean started to pray.

I hope you’re okay. I’m... I’m as okay as I can be I guess. I just... I miss you.

Dean fell asleep with Cas’s name on his lips.

…. :::: :::: …

I hope you’re okay. I’m... I’m as okay as I can be I guess. I just... I miss you.

Cas closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh air of the night. He couldn’t sleep and had stepped outside of the room, onto the balcony overviewing the city.

He missed Dean. He wished he could answer his prayer and let him hear some words of solace.

Cas looked back at the empty bed of the guest room Asmodeus had prepared for him after he rejected the angel’s advances with an excuse of being too tired and that he wanted to sleep... alone.

He knew the next days in the company of that angel were going to be difficult. Asmodeus wasn’t known for taking rejection lightly or for giving up that easily. He had to be cautious around the angel, but he also couldn’t afford to make him an enemy. If Sam was, indeed, at the school, Asmodeus could command the buyer to sell Sam to Cas.

Like Dean, he had to play a part in this. Pretend to be someone he wasn’t. He would need to remind himself of that fact when they started the hunt tomorrow.

Cas scrubbed his hands over his face. Dean would hate him if he killed an innocent human. He knew he should feel more passion for the human soul, but all he could think was that the soul was standing in the way of Dean and Sam’s safe return to Earth. Cas knew he would do anything for Dean, even killing an innocent to protect him. He felt no remorse for that. He couldn’t.

Killing was part of his life. Feeling remorse would be counter productive. But somehow Dean’s green eyes were haunting him in his dreams, pleading with him to do the right thing.

Chapter Text

Dean woke up to the sound of a soft knocking at his chamber door. Still cuddled into the pillow he growled in his half asleep state, “Go’way, Sammy…”

When the door opened with a creepy old creak, he shook his head and remembered where he was. Definitely not at home. Dean sat up and was greeted by Thibault. While he felt incredibly thankful to see the younger man, that pleasant hum morphed into an overwhelming guilt. There were deep bruises in the shape of handprints at his collarbone, he had a split lip and black eye, and those were only the visible injuries.

Considering this was a plane filled with angels capable of healing and salves to prevent that sort of bruising, it was apparent they purposely left Thibault with those injuries, just to make a point to Dean. He really hated this place. “I’m so sorry, man.”

The younger man tilted his head, clearly unsure of why Dean would apologize to him.

“It’s just, it’s fucked up that they’re punishing you because I’m a terrible Venqod. I should be the one sportin’ the bruises, man. Not you.”

Thibault approached Dean and knelt before him, not in a pose of obedience, one of congeniality. “That is not of your concern. Your heart, while kind, must begin the process of insouciance. If you do not, this plane will consume you.”

“How do you do it, man?” Dean shook his head in awe, not a positive amazed sort of awe, one of true dismay.

Thibault reached out a hand, comforting and warm, over Dean’s knee. “It gets easier, I can assure you that. Quasahi are the highest ranked Venqod. They are revered by Geiad, they are most protected and most cherished. Do not risk that status for lower Venqod. My wounds will heal in time and were not attained by your hand.”

Dean nodded, at a loss for words. A profound sadness, muddled with a righteous sense of anger was engulfing him. He took a deep breath. Eye on the prize. Return to Cas, rescue Sammy, get the fuck out of dodge, then deal with figuring out a way to save all of these poor bastards. Speaking of which... “Can I ask you something, Tib?”

He laughed. “Tib?”

“Nicknames are kinda my thing…”

Thibault shrugged, remaining in his crouched position.

Time to play his part. “Am I the only Venqod training to be Quasahi right now?” His tone curious and pretty damn innocent. Years of lying had really honed his skills.

The younger man shook his head, “I believe there are currently seven of you. You will be given the opportunity to meet them if you so wish. There will be a concession this evening after your lessons; being taught how to conduct yourself in the presence of your brethren is essential, in order to not bring shame upon your Geiad.”

Dean couldn’t believe his luck. About damn time! They were due for a win. He tried to school his features, no need to give away how hopeful that casual comment made him. “You said if I wished. Does that mean I don’t have to go?”

Thibault shook his head again. “The concession is optional, but highly recommended.”

Dean nodded his understanding.

As Thibault moved to stand, he gave Dean a soft smile. “I will fetch your morning meal, after which you will be provided essentials for you to bathe and given the time to prepare yourself for your next lesson.”

Well, there went his excitement over the win.

…. :::: :::: …

A slave helped Cas with his armor in the morning, adding a pauldron in dark red leather to it, the color of Asmodeus’s house. He shouldn’t be surprised that Asmodeus wanted him to be associated with his name. They would be accompanied by two other influential houses from other districts and Asmodeus wanted to show him off like a prized possession.

Cas couldn’t care less about that. If he could keep the dominator happy for the time being by wearing a splash of color, so be it.

Not for the first time that morning, his thoughts drifted to Dean. He hoped the hunter would find Sam and could keep them safe for the remaining time they had to stay there before he could fetch them. Four days and they would see each other again.

It felt like an eternity.

When he opened the door to Asmodeus’s entrance hall, his breath left him for a moment. Asmodeus stood in the middle of the room, dressed in blood red and silver silk that floated around his body in a way that accentuated every line and sinful curve, showing more naked skin than the armor he had worn the night before. His silver wings looked soft, carefully folded against his back as he caressed a panther sitting next him on the floor. The black furred animal was leashed with a silver cord that the angel held loosely in his hand.

Asmodeus looked up when he heard Cas enter the room and his gaze immediately went soft. “Isn’t he a thing of beauty?”

Cas noticed the blue eyes of the animal, the elegant way it’s muscles were tensed, as if ready to pounce at any moment. Asmodeus smiled. “You can see and feel his strength, his wildness, something that cannot be tamed... He reminds me of you.”

Cas didn’t say anything. He had spent almost the entire night thinking about how he would play this game between them. He walked up towards Asmodeus, stalking him like he was prey, before he leaned over the slightly smaller angel and deliberately dropped his voice to a growl, “I’m not wild, but you should be careful to not get bitten.”

He could hear Asmodeus’s breath hitch before he leaned back to look down at him. His cheeks were tinted a pinkish shade and Cas was surprised to see the other angel shyly glancing up at him. He was certain he had never seen his soft side before. It was confusing.

Asmodeus reached up and cupped his cheek, fingers tenderly touching over his stubble. “You look good in my color.”

Cas raised his eyebrow. “You’re not wearing something suitable for a hunt.”

Asmodeus bit his lower lip before he slowly unlaced the strings that held his vestment. It fell from his body, landing around his ankles and leaving him standing naked in front of Cas.

Cas’s gaze wandered over his exposed body, the vulnerable look the other angel was giving him. Skin flushed and breathing a little ragged. Asmodeus was clearly aroused, his nipples hard like the beautiful erection between his legs. Cas licked his lips, the sight didn’t leave him as unaffected as he wanted it to.

If Asmodeus was truly compromised by his feelings for Cas, then he could use the misplaced emotions to control him. He told himself he was doing this for the Winchesters’ safety, not because he wanted to. He would play the game, he would pretend. But there was a dark part of himself that was enjoying the way the angel in front of him was behaving, submissive and pliant.

"Turn around,” he quietly commanded. In the corner of his eye he could see a house slave coming closer, taking the leash from Asmodeus’s hand and leading the animal out of the room.

Asmodeus hadn’t stopped looking at him, his breathing shallow as he slowly turned around when the slave closed the door behind him.

Cas stepped closer. He was careful not to touch the other angel. “Brace yourself against the wall,” he whispered in Asmodeus’s ear before he exhaled deeply, mere inches over the back of his neck, watching in fascination how the fair hair on Asmodeus’s arms started to rise when he obeyed his command.

“How long do we have before the rest of your hunting party arrives?” Cas asked, letting his lips ghost over Asmodeus’s shoulder, before he gathered the soft, long hair in his fist.

“Not long enough…” Asmodeus breathed out as he arched his back and presented his naked ass to Cas.

He lifted his fist with Asmodeus’s hair to force him to bow his head forward, revealing the back of the angel’s neck. He held the palm of his free hand over the skin of his neck, not touching him, but knowing that the angel could feel the warmth from his hand hovering over him; the promise of his touch.

Asmodeus whimpered. “Please, Castiel.”

Castiel felt a smile playing around his lips before he finally released the other angel. “Get your armor. If the hunt is successful, I will reward you.”

…. :::: :::: …

As Thibault escorted him to the same room as the day before, Dean had to refrain from groaning with every step. The buttplug was creating an intense friction as he walked. He ended up at half mast by the time they reached the room. Thibault directed him to the stone bench again and made his departure.

Dean tried to focus on anything but the pressure inside of his hole. The plug was just long enough to graze his prostate, but not long or curved enough to garner any semblance of satisfaction. After a few minutes, the stern woman returned, hands on her hips in a weirdly commanding manner.

“Which of these resemble your Geiad’s phallus?”

Damn, not even any foreplay, straight to the main event. Dean looked over the collection of glass and silicone dildos. All different shapes and sizes. He supposed it was a good thing that he and Cas had fucked around. It would have been damn suspicious if he had no idea. As he perused the collection, a frown donned his face. None of these were even close to Cas’s size. They were all too small. Damn. Why did that thought turn him on?

Dean turned to her. “I apologize, but my Geiad’s size is not among these.”

He might have been mistaken, but the look on her face seemed to be a combination of surprise and awe. She nodded and made her leave without a word. After several minutes, she returned with two angels in tow, carrying a new collection of toys. Much larger in size.

The closest dildo to Cas’s cock was a simple, flesh colored, silicone one. After she waved the two angels out of the room, she grabbed the dildo and placed it on a… Yup. A sex machine. It appeared adjustable as she laid the arm of the machine down horizontally before a large cushion. Dean sighed. He was about to get fucked doggy style by Johnny 5. Great.

Might as well get it over with. Dean removed his garments and walked over to the machine.

The woman seemed impressed, before she donned her stern mask. “You will learn to milk your own prostate on your Geiad’s sex. It is absolutely necessary that your Geiad is never once required to touch your sex. You will learn how to move your hips, in order to have your prostate massaged by intercourse. You may stretch yourself further before I line up the machine to you. Proceed.”

The oil from the day before was on a small table next to the machine. After he removed the plug and stretched his hole as wide as he thought would be necessary to take that monster, the woman had Dean coat the oil over the toy. Cheeks heating as he got on all fours in front of the machine. Dean took a deep breath to attempt to calm his heart rate.

The woman carefully moved the arm of the machine against Dean’s rim, chastising him for not being relaxed enough when it wouldn’t push past. He took a few deep breaths and tried to relax. Easier said than done. After the third attempt and a little more oil, the head of the toy pushed past his rim and he couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his lips.

Even after having worn a buttplug all morning, it did not even slightly compare to the utter fullness he felt. As the fake cock went deeper and deeper, Dean continued to let out soft gasps and moans, before it finally reached its hilt.

“Give yourself time to adjust to the girth, continue to breathe. When you nod, I will turn the machine on. If the replica does not strike your prostate, you will need to roll your hips upward. You are to make yourself ejaculate on the milking alone, you will not touch your own sex. Nor will you be permitted to end this lesson or leave this room until you have.”

Dean took a deep breath, attempting to relax around the girth of the fake dick. He was damn conflicted, feeling a mixture of shame and irretrievable arousal. In that moment his entire sex life flashed before his eyes. He’d never dreamed that, even if he did actually have full-on sex with another man, that he’d be the damn bottom. Although, now that he thought about it, he always did prefer it when the lady took charge. In fact, he preferred her on top. Damn, he was a bottom.

Without the fake cock moving, he couldn’t believe how amazing it felt. Once he had relaxed and gotten used to the foreign intrusion, the feeling of fullness, it was intoxicating. He’d never known it could feel so… so fucking good. After one more deep breath, he nodded to her.

As the toy began to slowly thrust in and out, Dean moaned outright. He’d never felt anything like it. Feeling the toy slide in and out, lit a fire low in Dean’s belly. He’d never been so turned on during sex in his entire fucking life. And pretending it was Cas’s cock instead of the pretend cock, fuck…

His own dick was leaking, throbbing in harmony with the thrusts, but he wasn’t anywhere near close enough to coming. Dean recalled the woman’s instruction and started to roll his hips, slowly, in time with the machine’s thrusts. When he got the right angle, feeling the large pressure against his prostate, he almost collapsed forward onto his elbows.

Moaning with abandon from that point forward, Dean felt like he couldn’t get enough. His pace started to quicken, evoking a litany of assaults against the gland. Dean gripped the pillow as he proceeded to fuck himself, harder and faster, on the fake cock. He could feel sweat begin to pool at the base of his spine, as his breathing grew ragged in between his wanton moans.

When he imagined Cas again, gripping his hips as he drove into Dean, pounding into him with a vigor, growling his name in the possessive way he could; it was all he needed to be tipped over the edge. Dean rode out his orgasm in haphazard quirks of his hips against the machine, splaying the pillow and his chest in his own come.

He did collapse onto his elbows when the woman turned the machine off and slowly pulled the dildo from his hole. As Dean attempted to catch his breath, he almost didn’t hear what she said, “Excellent. You will be given a short period to recuperate and hydrate, and then you will do this again in a different position.”

Fuck. This was how he was going to die. Death by orgasm. Well, there were worse ways to go.

…. :::: :::: ….

He still hadn’t decided what he would do with the human once he found him in the mountains. A choice that he, now, understood wouldn’t present itself. Asmodeus wouldn’t leave his side, even when he had suggested they split up for the search.

Cas had hoped he could find the slave without any watchful eyes on him, maybe even create a portal to Earth so the soul could rise up to Heaven once he had crossed it. He was so far out of the city, it should have been possible for him to create a rift between their planes.

But that wasn’t an option anymore. He had to face the fact that he would have to destroy this soul.

“I think I heard something,” one of the angels from the district of Gula, who had accompanied them on the hunt, whispered suddenly.

The angel from Superbia, one of Barachiel’s men, rolled his eyes. “It’s probably your stomach…”

Asmodeus chuckled and Cas smiled at them. Barachiel’s man was right. The human they were hunting was nowhere near them. Their hunting companions were untrained and probably going with them as a rite of passage, earning their laurels on a successful man hunt.

Cas sighed and looked up at the sky. The heat was burning down on them now that it was already midday. “I’ll scout ahead, stay here.”

Asmodeus shook his head. “I’m coming with you. I want to see how you kill him.”

Cas sighed, it had been worth a shot, but he had no choice but to acquiesce. Asmodeus wanted blood and he wouldn’t be satisfied with a failed hunt. He needed to earn the angel’s trust and satisfaction. If he wouldn’t do anything for him, Asmodeus wouldn’t be open to helping him buy Sam when the time would come. He lowered his head and concentrated on his surroundings, trying to hear the souls and their pleas. He suppressed everything coming from the north and the city and focused on the south.

Cas could hear a single prayer. Even in a situation like this, the soul was asking for forgiveness.

Maybe it would be a mercy killing, setting him free from this plane. He heard Dean’s voice in his mind clearly, as if he was standing right next to him; reminding him that it was not right. That Cas had no right to take that soul. That he should do the right thing.

Dean had been his moral compass for such a long time now. Through his friend he had learned about the worth of free will, about fighting and dying for the right thing.

But in this situation, the lines of right and wrong started to blur. He had promised Dean to help him and Sam get out of here. A promise he wouldn’t break. He’d already put Dean in danger by being separated from him. He wasn’t willing to endanger the mission, too.

“I found him.” His voice was lacking any emotion.

He felt Asmodeus’s arms around him, when he hugged him from behind. “I knew you would.”

The human was a man of Dean’s age. His green eyes were filled with fear before Cas killed him swiftly with his angel blade. It wasn’t the violent death Asmodeus had wished for, but Cas didn’t care. It was satisfactory enough for Asmodeus, considering how the angel licked the human’s blood from his fingertips.

The man had looked like Dean. And it felt like something in Cas’s heart broke at such a comparison.

In that moment he also formed a prayer in his mind. A prayer that begged for forgiveness, like the man that had died by his hand. But it wasn’t a prayer to his father, his prayer was to Dean.

…. :::: :::: ….

Six positions. Six total positions. Doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, missionary, side-entry, and standing. Dean was exhausted. It had been years since he’d come six times in a day. It had taken several breaks and about seven hours. At least, that was his guess, considering it was daylight when they started and the sun was now going down.

Thibault had helped him to his room, too tired to even adorn his garments, with a promise to return with his evening meal before they were to attend the concession. At least he understood now why it was optional. But it didn’t matter how fucked out he was, he had to find out if Sammy was here, too.

After a much needed bath, some food, and time to collect his thoughts, Thibault returned to escort him to the concession. Walking through the maze of corridors was almost dizzying with how exhausted he felt. He was led to a large open room, looking similar to the ballroom from the Disney movie Beauty and the Beast. Considering how damn plain and grey the rest of the building was, this room seemed over the top.

He counted several slaves, he wasn’t sure which ones were Quasahi and which were regular Venqod. But none of them were Sam. Fuck! He wondered if he could get away with opting out of the concession after he’d already arrived, but there was probably some stupid custom that frowned on that sort of behavior.

For a realm that was immersed in all forms of decadence and depravity, they sure did like their stupid ass rules. Dean internally rolled his eyes and made his way to the table where refreshments were laid out. Thibault remained at his side. He turned to him as Dean handed the man a glass of some kind of green liquid. Here’s to hoping it was absinthe and Dean could spend the rest of the night in a drugged haze.

Dean took a sip, and sighed. It tasted like a goddamn appletini. He really hated this place. He turned to Thibault. “So, is this all the Quasahi here?”

The younger man nodded. “Yes, you can identify a Quasahi from a Venqod by their collar. Only Quasahi are permitted to wear collars adorned with jewels. Venqod may be permitted nicer collars, but none with jewels. It is by the size and frequency of the jewels that lay claim to the degree of their being exalted. The value that Venqod has to his or her Geiad. The more jewels, the bigger; the higher importance of that Quasahi.”

Shit. Cas must have wanted Dean to be untouchable. Dean looked around and shrugged. “So, what is it we have to learn? Like, you said we had to be taught to behave properly…”

Thibault chuckled softly, before pointing to a couple of slaves introducing themselves to each other. “You see how the young female bowed to the inordinately tall male? His collar is replete with diamonds and sapphires, whereas her collar is more simple, adorned with a smattering of garnet and opal. His collar indicates his Geiad is of higher stature, so she must bow before him.”

Dean leaned against the table. “I get it. So, how do you figure out how a collar is more important than yours if you don’t know shit about jewelry? Like, who in here would I need to bow to?”

Thibault scoffed. “No one.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Asmodeus’s celebrations were known for their excessive decadence and orgies. The great hall of his villa had been decorated in their absence with silver and red banners, rubies braided in silver cords were hanging from the ceiling, reflecting the last rays of sunlight falling through the windows.

The festivities had already began when Cas returned from his room after washing the blood from his hands. He had changed out of his armor into a blue silk toga with silver embroidered  Enochian letters. A gift from Asmodeus.

He could see Asmodeus’s eyes grow wide as his eyes fell on him, giving him a soft, warm smile. The angel was dressed in a long and elegant toga in the colors of his house. The red color suited him, making his perfect skin and white hair stand out even more. He had been talking to other angels at the head of the room, dropping the conversation immediately when he noticed Cas.

Cas would have been lying if he said that kind of attention wasn’t flattering. But he knew what Asmodeus’s heart looked like. He had seen it when they met for the first time, and again on the hunt this afternoon. The angel had a beautiful appearance, but his heart was anything but. Cas didn’t know how much of the gossip was true about the angel’s sadistic and disturbing sexual preferences, but he witnessed how Asmodeus had stood over the dead human body this afternoon. How he had mutilated the corpse, licking the blood from his fingers, all the while moaning in exhilaration.

And then there was also a soft and pliant side about him every time he interacted with Cas. It would be naive to let himself be fooled by that. Asmodeus was more like his wild pet than Cas was. He looked tame, but it was just an illusion. He was sure Asmodeus would bite him if he wasn’t careful, figuratively and literally.

He nodded at him before he strode through the concourse of angels and slaves, eating food or being engaged in various sexual acts. Cas didn’t pay them attention. He was focused on his mission.

“You look breathtaking.” Asmodeus smiled as he gestured to the toga.

“It’s a beautiful garment.” Castiel returned the smile, letting one of his fingers glide down the exposed left side of his chest. Asmodeus followed the trail of his fingers, pupils dilated.  

“It’s from Avaritia. They make the most beautiful clothes. The color suits you, although I would love to see you in my colors more often in the future...”  

Asmodeus looked up into his eyes with his last words and Cas understood what he was saying. Asmodeus was asking him to stay at his house.

Right on cue the main door opened and Barachiel entered with his men. Cas had never been so grateful to see that angel’s face. He noticed how Asmodeus squinted his eyes at the sight of Barachiel. If Cas just walked over to greet him, the dominator would surely grow suspicious.

He reached out for Asmodeus’s forehead, laying two fingers on it before tracing a half circle down to his cheek. Asmodeus looked up at him in surprise. Cas gave him a warm smile. “I have to greet Barachiel, Viruden. I’ll be right back with you.”

The Enochian term of endearment and hand gesture of affection had evoked exactly the reaction Cas was hoping for. Asmodeus gave him a blinding smile, no traces of suspicion were left on his face. He nodded at Cas before he gracefully sat down on one of the velvety red cushions behind him. “I can’t wait for your return.”

Cas gave him one last smile, which vanished from his lips as soon as he had his back turned on Asmodeus. He met Barachiel, already waiting for him at one of the empty alcoves in the hall. “Tell me you have found something,” he whispered in a commanding voice at Barachiel.

“I have indeed, my friend. I have gathered a list of names and places that recently purchased souls that shouldn’t be here. But I fear in my current position, I cannot visit those angels and ask about them. But you could take Camael with you. I’m sure he would lend a hand in providing the access you need.”

Cas nodded. “This will be a great help. You have my gratitude and my promised help. Asmodeus is starting to trust me. I will get the information you need to get rid of him. As soon as he has fulfilled his usefulness to me, I will serve him to you on a silver platter.”

Barachiel gave him a quick smile. “Go back to him, he already gives me murderous looks for taking too much of your time.”

“I’ll see you soon, brother,” Cas whispered before he made his way back through the crowd. He didn’t want to spend the night with Asmodeus, but he knew he needed to. He needed a form of control over the angel if he wanted to get Sam out of the school.

And the only way he could control him right now was to use Asmodeus’s feelings for him. He hadn’t touched him in any sexual way so far and, somehow, just the thought of laying with the angel disturbed him. Although Asmodeus had a questionable character, he was still stunningly beautiful. A beauty that surely had an effect on Cas.

A few days ago he wouldn’t have had any qualms about sharing a bed with the angel. But with everything that had happened between him and Dean since their arrival to Limbo, he suddenly felt like he would be betraying his friend with an act like that.

It was confusing. Dean and him weren’t in a relationship. Dean had given him no indication that he wanted to be in one. He had needed the sex as a comfort and Cas knew his friend; he knew the hunter liked sex and had a lot of experience. He also knew that his friend separated sex from feelings.

“You look distracted, Castiel,” Asmodeus whispered as he sat down next to him on one of the cushions.

“My apologies. I have a lot on my mind,” Cas responded wearily. He tried to understand what his feelings for Dean were. All of these questions made him wonder if he was the one who wanted a relationship with Dean. That his reluctance towards Asmodeus’s affection was based on Cas’s own change of heart.

Asmodeus’s beauty and his open affection affected Cas, but it was nothing compared to what Dean made him feel.

“Is Barachiel the reason for your frown?” Asmodeus asked before he slipped onto Cas’s lap.

Cas let it happen, still confused about his own thoughts and emotions. He and Dean were just friends, brothers even… family. Not this … But the last few days had shown him that this was what he wanted. He wanted Dean. He wanted to fall asleep next to him, he wanted to hold him, he wanted to see his smile when they woke up in the morning. He needed him.

“What? No. Why would he be the reason?” Cas asked, feeling more irritated than he wanted to.

Asmodeus squinted his eyes at him. “Because you’re the only one at this wonderful orgy who isn’t having fun. And it started when you came back from speaking with that pretentious ass.”

Cas glared at Asmodeus. “You may not like him, but he is a friend of mine. And my mood has nothing to do with him, but with my concerns about my own plane.” He closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. “I know our wars are of no concern to your realm. But I have a battle with Hell to be planned and not enough resources to fight. We have suffered many losses in the past few years and without a certain amount of souls to power up our war efforts, we may lose even more brothers to the demon hordes. I sometimes wish…” Castiel let the sentence hang on purpose. Dangling it like a lure for Asmodeus to bite. He forced a smile on his lips. “But as I said, this is of no concern to you. Don’t worry your beautiful head over me. I’ll try to enjoy this night.”

Asmodeus gave him a soft smile. “You said there is something you wished… Anything I can help you with?

Cas let his eyes go soft as he caressed the other angel’s face softly. He dragged his thumb over Asmodeus’s lip as a promise for more, enjoying the way his pupils dilated with the intimate touch. “Nothing you can help me with. You can’t change the rules of the balance. I, sadly, have to fight with the souls I have left.”

He dragged his fingers tenderly over Asmodeus’s throat, pretending to be distracted with caressing the other angel instead of listening to their conversation. Asmodeus leaned closer, lips grazing his ear as he whispered, “I could help you with that.”

Cas chuckled. “You mean you could help me by distracting me with your beauty? Who knows if I’ll have another chance for a night with you when I return to the battlefield.”

Asmodeus kissed his throat. “You could stay here…”

“You know there is a good reason we aren't allowed to stay too long. I don't think you would enjoy me being a brainless savage,” Cas chastised as he closed his eyes to enjoy Asmodeus’s lips on him. He tried to imagine it was Dean, but it wasn’t easy.

“Then let me help by shifting the odds in your favor,” Asmodeus mumbled as he licked at his throat, before he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin.

Cas pushed him back tenderly to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Asmodeus gave him a sly smile. “What would you do to me tonight if I told you I can provide you with the souls you need?”

Cas feigned a confused look, he just imagined Dean using one of his pop-culture references on him to make it easier. “How would you do something like that? You would considerably weaken your position in the city if you gave me so many of the souls of your district. I can’t let you do that.”

Asmodeus trailed his fingers down Cas’s shoulder to the strings of his toga. “I have other ways, Castiel. We should talk about that in the morning, without so many ears around us. Just enjoy the festivities tonight, get your mind off of this ugly business and relax.”

Asmodeus snapped his fingers as he slid off of Cas’s lap to sit next to him. Two slaves approached them, one was presenting a filled cup of honey wine that Cas took from the tray.

This was working out better than he could have hoped for. His only concern was that he had to entertain Asmodeus long enough until Dean was safely back with him and he had found Sam. He knew he probably couldn’t deny the other angel’s sexual desire for him much longer. It bothered him, but he didn’t see a way out of the situation.

The other slave was a Quasahi. He knelt before Cas with a bowed head. Cas looked over at Asmodeus with a confused expression. Asmodeus chuckled. “You have a preference for these, haven’t you? Your own is at my school right now and I would be a horrible host if I were to leave you unattended.”

The slave stood up and stripped in front of Cas, showing his boyish features and never once looking up. Being forced to be intimate with Asmodeus was one thing, but raping an innocent human soul was something Cas wouldn’t do.

Cas shook his head and looked over at Asmodeus. “Why would I want him if I can have you?”

He felt the slave flinching next to him as Asmodeus’s smile grew wider. He looked up at the Venqod with the silver tray. “Take the Quasahi back to the school. He should be punished for not being desirable enough.”

Cas bit his lip to hold his tongue. He knew he couldn’t argue with Asmodeus in front of a slave, undermining his authority. He took a large gulp from his wine, trying to drown his consciousness in alcohol. The liquid tasted sweet and heavy, leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue, a taste Cas couldn’t place. He drank the rest of it without thinking about it.

Asmodeus wrapped his arms around his shoulders, writhing his body against Cas’s in a salacious way. “Do you want more of it?”

Cas nodded and the slave refilled his cup. This was Dean’s way of dealing with hard situations. And Cas would follow his example tonight.

The second cup already started to have an affect on him. He felt his body relaxing, a warm and pleasant feeling accumulated in his stomach as he leaned back into the pillows and looked around the hall. Female dancers wearing next to nothing as they moved their bodies to the sound of a deep beat of drums, that he could feel reverberating in his chest. It was hypnotic to watch them, bending and writhing their bodies against each other, revealing their breasts, and the curve of their hips.

He was becoming more and more aware of the surroundings he had purposefully ignored when he first entered the room. The moans and groans of bodies moving around him, slaves rubbing their naked skin against each other or offering themselves to their masters. He saw some of them getting fucked or fingered, groaning in pleasure and all he could think of was how Dean had felt under him and how much he wanted to feel him again.

A quiet moan slipped from his lips and he could feel a hand on his erection, stroking him. The hand was too delicate, small and soft, but still firm. The string of his toga was opened and he felt lips sucking at his right nipple. He imagined Dean on his lap, his playful smile and beautiful freckles.

Cas wanted him closer, he wanted to be inside of Dean. He moaned when his toga was lifted and he felt warm, naked skin against his throbbing cock. He reached to touch the perfect smooth ass, lifting him up on his lap so he could spread his cheeks.

The moan in his ear sounded wrong somehow, he didn’t know why. He didn’t care. He needed to be inside of Dean. “I need oil to prepare you.”

For a moment the hot, writhing body on top of him tensed. “My slaves understand our language, Castiel.”

Cas made an irritated noise, he was confused. The room was spinning and his whole body felt hot and antsy. Where was Dean? He needed… He wanted him so much… The air burned in his lungs as he bucked up against the naked flesh above him.

A cold chuckle above him. Someone giving him a pot with oil, helping him dip his fingers inside to coat them with the liquid.

He moaned as he stroked over the waiting hole. All he could think of was how much he wanted to be inside Dean. He pushed his finger inside the warmth, trying to be careful, but his need causing him to be more rough and desperate. The gasp in his ear was too high, no… no…

A hand grabbed forcefully at his right wing, the pain mixed with the sensitive spot there filled him with another wave of heat and arousal. He pushed the finger deeper, bending his finger to find Dean’s prostate.

“I’m not a breakable slave, Castiel. I want your cock.” The words were followed by a painful bite to his shoulder. He could smell the coppery scent of his own blood.

Pleasure, heat, need to push inside the waiting hole, pain, but oh, so delicious. Nothing made sense anymore. Until he felt the strong pull at the back of his mind.

A familiar longing, followed by Dean’s voice.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was exhausted. Mentally as well as physically. He had been incredibly grateful that his brother wasn’t there, for obvious reasons. But the disappointment in knowing they still had to try and find Sammy, and then rescue him, meant the longer they had to be stuck on this plane. Damn, everything sucked.

The only positive thing to have come out of the experience was getting to be intimate with Cas. Most people who suffered from unrequited love had to sit on the sidelines and pine. Never getting the chance to explore the person they love sexually. While it was worsening the extent of his feelings, making his love for Castiel more concrete; he realized more and more that he didn’t give a damn.

Maybe when they got back he could talk to Cas, tell him how he felt. Maybe see if everything they were feeling was real. That it went both ways.

For now though, he had to focus on getting Sam back. On playing the perfect slave so he wasn’t stuck here for an extended period of time. Dean couldn’t stop the yawn as he crawled into the bed. He grasped a pillow against his chest and sighed. Again, he prayed to Cas.

Sam isn’t here. It narrows down his possible locations. Hopefully you got more intel on him than I did. Today was… exhausting. I really miss you, Cas.

It wasn’t long before Dean fell into a dreamless sleep.

…. :::: :::: ….

Sam isn’t here. It narrows down his possible locations. Hopefully you got more intel on him than I did. Today was… exhausting. I really miss you, Cas.

The words cut through his haze like a razor. What was happening? He shook his head, trying to concentrate on the intense longing he felt coming from Dean. It was then that he realized he was under the influence of a drug. Not only alcohol, but something else.

He looked up at Asmodeus. “What have you done to me?”

The smaller angel quirked his brow. “I’m helping you relax.”

He felt the effect of the drug returning when Dean’s longing suddenly stopped. The hunter had probably fallen asleep.

“You know you want me, Castiel. I can feel your hard cock against me.”

Dean. He wanted Dean. Cas felt his head rolling forward, falling heavily against Asmodeus’s shoulder. The angel tensed above him. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he had said that aloud.

He needed to protect Dean. Asmodeus couldn’t know. “Take me to your bed, Asmodeus. I want you just for myself.” He hoped the drug would be kind enough to give him back the illusion of Dean when he followed Asmodeus to his bed chamber.

He should have known that drugs weren’t kind. Four days and another prayer for forgiveness.

Chapter Text

Dean’s five days had finally come to an end. He awoke the morning after his fifth night in the hellhole posing as some kind of school. Thankfully he’d been able to prevent Thibault from being punished further because of his damn hero complex.

The worst of it had been the random tests they put Dean through. When he’d encountered a really young slave being brutally gangbanged by four angels on his way back from one of his ‘lessons’, Dean had to remain calm and not intervene. After Thibault left him in his chambers that night to get some rest, for the first time since he’d arrived, Dean broke down. Sobbing into the pillow that had been his comfort through the experience.

When he wasn’t being tested, they were constantly hammering home the level of usefulness he had in this realm. Quasahi were made for sexual pleasure, and nothing else. So he was taught all of the different ways to pleasure an angel, from sexual positions, to wing massage. They molded him into the perfect little sex slave. And they made sure that he knew that was all he was good for and all he would ever be good for. While Dean was more than aware that he was playing a role, a tiny little voice in the back of his head taunted him with how accurate that concept was.

What use had he been for anybody, really? He may have helped save the world a couple of times, but he’d also been behind the start of those world ending situations. Dean had caused so much destruction, so much pain, all because of some self-righteous idea of what he deemed right or wrong, and for what? To constantly have a target on his back and the backs of the people he gave a damn about? And don’t even get him started on his romantic life, which he’d slowly and steadily grown to accept will be nonexistent as long as he was a hunter. Which meant, until he finally kicked the bucket for good.

He hated that the words struck such a nerve. Dean Winchester was honestly only going to be good for one thing. Sex. He knew where his skillsets lie, but to have that reality slap him in the face? The phrase ‘world-shattering’ came to mind. Damn, they really needed to find Sammy and get the fuck out of this plane.

Dean adorned his green tunic after having bathed himself. He stared at the bottle of oil and buttplug he’d been granted as some sort of morbid parting gift. The urge to prepare himself before he was taken back to Cas was overwhelming, and that was really fucking with him. Five days and his training had made these urges innate. Dean shook his head and had to actually force himself to not prepare his hole. Instead, he stuffed the items in a small satchel he had been given as a gift for completion of his lessons.

Thibault entered his chambers with a tray of food. “I thought it best you eat before your departure.”

Dean had grown to really like the guy. He was a little too literal sometimes, but he had a good sense of humor and was always willing to answer Dean’s stupid questions. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have made it through the past five days without the guy. Shit. He realized in that moment it was the last time he would get to see Thibault.

Dean approached the younger man and pulled him into a hug. Quick and firm, before he gave him a gentle pat on the back. “Thank you for everything, Tib.”

He looked genuinely touched, eyes shimmering slightly. Thibault grasped his hand in both of his own. “You are unlike any Quasahi I have ever met. I will never forget you, Dean.”

…. :::: :::: ….

After Dean had said his goodbyes to Thibault and the armed guards showed up, he was escorted through the streets of the district to a seriously extravagant house. An elegant two-story villa just beyond the reach of an elongated pool. The courtyard was easily half a mile long, two walking paths alongside the pool of almost the same length. The paths were shaded by ceramic and stone pergolas, held up by simple carved white marble pillars. Perfectly landscaped bushes of different red and silver flowers furbished the paved length alongside the pool in its entirety.

As they drew closer to the main entrance of the home, Dean noticed a balcony on the front of the villa, almost the entire length of the house, symmetrical pillars used for structural support as well as embellishment. The home was a simple off-white color, but banners in silver and a deep blood red were hung along the balcony, as well as drapery of the same colors seen through the windows.

When the house slaves bowed and permitted their entry in through the villa, Dean was taken to a great hall, a similar interior design to the outside of the place. Simple whites for the walls, apart from intricate silver vines carved into the parapets. Deep blood red drapes covered the large bay windows that were from floor to ceiling. The colors of the drapes did not block the sunlight, so it created a subtle, yet beautiful red translucent effect.

The place wasn’t as big as Barachiel’s, but it was definitely more extravagant. The guards hooked his chain to the wooden ring holder near the back of the room and left without so much a glance. Dean was weirdly nervous, it had been five days since he saw Cas. While time apart was nothing new to them, since they’d started their exploration and Dean made the decision to maybe suck it up and at least talk to the guy, it was nerve wracking.

Dean hoped he wouldn’t lose himself, or do something stupid and forget himself while they were still under cover, like grab the angel and kiss him stupid. He paced with the little bit of slack the chain had given him. He hoped Cas had gotten some info on Sam, he was more than ready to get the hell out of Limbo.

The grandiose Mediterranean doors, a deep mahogany, were swept open by two slaves at either door, bowing for the entrance of whomever was approaching. Dean’s breath hitched when he saw Cas. Instead of his armor, he was draped in an opalescent robe, stitched with some kind of lettering along the seams, probably Enochian. The silk was a light blue that made the angel’s eyes seem even darker than usual. The robe slung diagonally across the angel’s chest, exposing his right pec. The garment was strapped precariously over his left shoulder, allowing his wings the freedom to expand without restriction. A silver buckle at the right hip clasped the robe closed, the remainder of the fabric swathed over his legs, stopping just about mid-thigh. Cas’s tan legs complimenting the blue of the fabric in a way he wouldn’t have thought possible.

Dean had never been more attracted to another living being in his entire life. He cursed his fate in that moment, not being able to literally slam Cas into the closest wall and show him everything that damn school had taught him. He might have contemplated unhooking his own chain to take the risk, if Cas wasn’t accompanied by some smarmy looking angel.

Dean wasn’t sure why, but the guy really skeeved him out. This Lucius Malfoy looking motherfucker had his hand on Cas’s shoulder in a pretty non-platonic way. Who the hell needed to walk through a doorway with a friend clasping their shoulder and back with both hands, anyway? Dean sighed, when had he turned into a jealous girlfriend? He shook his head of his errant and traitorous thoughts, and put his slave mask on.

As Cas approached, Dean knelt and bowed his head.

“I hope your time at Asmodeus’s school has taught you your place.” Cas’s voice was hard, missing any trace of kindness.

The creepy angel next to him asked Cas something in Enochian, the only word Dean understood was Quasahi and Enochian so he could guess the content of the question.

When Asmodeus started to speak in English, it only confirmed his theory. “I think he should show you what he has learned. They are so beautifully pliant when they freshly come out of my school.”

Cas sighed. “I’m not in the mood for games, Asmodeus.”

So, the douchebag who was being way too chummy with Cas was the proprietor of that hellhole? No wonder Dean was so perturbed by his presence. The last thing he wanted to do was perform for this jerk.

“Castiel, you know I have a reputation to uphold. I have to see if he has been taught well, or I’ll have to send him back. You know that’s my right…”

He could hear Cas sigh in annoyance and say something harshly in Enochian. He wondered why the angel chose to censor Dean from whatever he said.

The other angel chuckled, before he answered in English, “Well it’s partially true, I just love seeing your cock in action.”

Why did that sound like he already knew what Cas’s cock looked like in action? Dean swallowed down the bitter taste of jealousy.

Cas growled something back in Enochian and pretty boy angel had the nerve to giggle like a girl. He turned around to walk to the slaves at the door.

“Quasahi, do you remember your visit to the asylum five years ago and the game we played together?” Cas asked quietly when the other angel was out of earshot. “Look at me.”

Dean turned up to look at Cas. The asylum? Why was he bringing that up? It took him a few moments to realize what the angel was saying. They played Sorry. Fuck. Whatever was about to happen, Cas was apologizing for it preemptively. He nodded slowly. “I do, Geiad.”

The creepy angel with the long white Rapunzel hair came back to them with a silver bowl in his hand and Dean quickly looked down again. “I’ve got your Quasahi some oil, Castiel.”

He put the silver bowl down next to Dean. “Show me what you’ve learned, Quasahi. Give my Viruden the pleasure he deserves.”

One of the many things Dean had learned at the school was that whenever a Venqod and their Geiad were guests at another’s home, commands from the proprietor were to hold as much weight as your own Geiad’s. He’d also learned some Enochian from Thibault and knew exactly what Viruden meant.

Dean’s lip trembled slightly, a combination of anger and hurt. He bowed to the jackass and accepted the bowl. He crouched in the position he had been taught to indicate he was ready to have the chain unhooked from his collar.

Dean had to resist the urge to bite Asmodeus’s hand when he moved to unhook his chain, instead of Cas. When he stood up, he was silently pleased by the fact that he was taller than the smarmy angel. Dean made his way to one of the lush Orfam Othils and placed the jar on the small table beside it.

Making it a point to put on a show, Dean turned to face the pair of angels, locking eyes with Cas as he slowly pulled his tunic up and off, tossing it to the floor. The lust in Cas’s eyes was striking, he licked his lips, eyes raking over Dean’s form.

While a part of him found this situation pretty degrading; a sick, twisted part of him was exhilarated. The thought of prepping himself for Cas, putting on a damn show for his friend, excited him more than it had any right to. Dean didn’t even care that the other angel was there, modesty was nonexistent on this plane and he was, after all, only a sex object.

When Dean moved to lay on his left side, back toward the angels, he smirked at the soft gasp that escaped his friend’s lips. He dipped his index and middle fingers into the jar and lifted his leg to expose his hole. After he teased and played with his own pucker for a few minutes, his index finger slipped past the rim with ease. Dean groaned at the sensation.

He began to pretend it was Cas’s fingers, evoking the dirtiest and most erotic images. Dean let out a wanton moan as he started to finger himself, gyrating his hips against the sensation. If he had to put himself on display, he might as well fucking enjoy it. When he got a second finger in and hooked them to touch his prostate, his need, his utter desire came out in a prayer.

I wish my fingers were your cock.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas felt conflicted when Dean started to strip and lay down on the cushions. He had longed to see Dean again and wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around him, to hold him close. He hated that Asmodeus was with them right now and was forcing him to do this.

He wanted to have sex with Dean. But not like this. Not without his permission, not with them playing a role, hiding their true nature. He hated himself for already reacting to the sight Dean was giving him, how he pushed a slick finger inside of himself, how he moaned from the pleasure.

He found himself unable to move or look away, seeing Dean in such a position, letting go with abandon, made his heart beat faster and breath come quicker. His erection already starting to leave a wet spot against the silk of his garment.

Cas could feel Dean’s longing for him and wished it meant that he wanted him. That it wasn’t simply  a prayer for help, to save him from this situation. In that moment, he knew he would do anything Dean asked of him. He would have ripped Asmodeus’s throat open, not caring the consequences of his action, if that was what his friend asked.

I wish my fingers were your cock.

Cas gasped at the intensity of the need in Dean’s prayer. This was the permission he had waited for and not for the first time he wished Dean could hear the response to his prayer.

He stepped forward and touched Dean’s back gently, a nonverbal indication to his friend that he was going to take him now. Dean removed his fingers, presenting his hole to him in invitation.

Asmodeus stepped next to him, slinging one arm around his shoulder, his other hand pulled his toga up to reveal Cas’s hard erection. “Quasahi, turn around and wet your Geiad’s cock with your mouth,” he commanded and Cas was slightly mesmerized as he watched how Dean changed his position to kneel in front of him.

Not a single flicker of hesitation when Dean wrapped his lips around him, taking his entire length, deep into his mouth.

“He has really pretty lips, Castiel,” Asmodeus whispered in his ear, before he playfully bit his earlobe.

Cas growled, a little overwhelmed from a mixture of the pleasure Dean was giving him and the annoyance of Asmodeus’s presence, the unsavory way he was talking about Dean.

The angel chuckled. “You make me unbelievably hard when you’re aggressive like that. I can‘t wait to see how you fuck that little whore.”

Cas turned his head to bite Asmodeus’s shoulder, so hard it drew blood. The other angel moaned against him, a heady sound that was a mixture of lust and pain. Cas felt Dean hesitate for a moment. He grasped the back of his friend’s head and gently urged him to continue, before Asmodeus could notice. His fingers stroked tenderly through Dean’s hair, hoping he could signal the hunter to calm down.

Asmodeus looked down at Dean. “Turn around and present your hole.”

Cas bit his lip as Dean followed the command, presenting his ass with his hands, spreading his cheeks – a sign of being prepared to take him. He grabbed both sides of Dean’s hips as he slowly pushed his erection inside.

This was not how he had ever imagined their first time, an urgent and needy fuck at the demand of a dominator of Limbo. Cas closed his eyes, trying to imagine that this was happening in the bunker, far away from this realm. Dean sprawled out on his bed, begging him to take him, after hours of kissing and worshipping the man’s body with his tongue and lips.

Asmodeus dug his fingers into Cas’s wings, massaging exactly the most sensitive spots, the areas he knew would lead to Cas losing control. It was hard to ignore the other angel’s presence like that. Unable to hold back, he moaned deeply when he was completely sheathed inside of Dean.

It was overwhelming and he needed a moment to keep himself from coming just from that. He felt Dean adjusting the position of his hips as he started to slowly thrust into him.

Cas got lost for a moment in Dean’s moans of pleasure and the intense feeling of longing in the back of his head coming from the man. One of his hands left its position at Dean’s hip and stroked down his spine, before he caressed one of his ass cheeks.

Yes, Cas, please...

He returned his hand back to Dean’s hip and fucked into him harder, slamming in and out at an ardent pace, wanting to give his friend the pleasure he was begging for.

Dean let out a ragged moan, his breaths coming out in quick pants. Cas knew he couldn’t keep himself from coming much longer. He quickened his pace, thrusting harder and faster, biting his lip so hard he could taste blood.

Cas slammed his eyes shut in utter pleasure when he felt Dean clench around his cock as his friend came untouched all over the cushion beneath him, body shaking in a shudder as he released a moan.

Asmodeus suddenly pulled him back and out of Dean. Before he could snap at the other angel, Asmodeus raised his fingers to Cas’s lips to silence him. “I want you to come on his pretty face. Turn around, Quasahi. Hurry!”

Dean did as instructed, up on his knees, he gripped Cas’s cock and began to stroke, grip firm and setting a frenetic pace. He could feel his friend’s hot breath against the tip of his sex, so close to Dean’s beautiful lips.

“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue, Quasahi,” Asmodeus commanded before he plunged his fingers into Cas’s wings again.

Dean continued to stroke Cas’s sex, he opened his mouth, tongue out and tapping in a rhythm against the underside of the head of his cock.

It was too much. The pressure on his wings from Asmodeus’s hands combined with the sight and sensation of Dean’s fingers and tongue… He came with a deep groan, coating Dean’s lips and tongue as well as the side of his face with his release.

The hunter wiped the come from his cheek with the back of his hand and pointedly looked up into Cas’s eyes when he licked it off.

Asmodeus pulled Cas’s face towards him with a grin. “Seems your whore has learned his place.” He buried his fingers into Cas’s hair as he pressed his lips to his mouth, forcing his tongue in. Cas didn’t want to kiss him, but he couldn’t afford the angel getting suspicious, yet.

So, he moaned and kissed him back.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean knelt there, in a daze as he watched the angel he was in love with stick his tongue down the throat of another angel. Right after having come on Dean’s face. He’d experienced a lot of different pain in his life; torturous, exceedingly sadistic pain at the hands of Alastair in Hell for forty years. And it didn’t even come close to this. Unable to watch any longer, he bowed his head like the good Quasahi he was.

It was almost worse, not knowing what they were doing, because it was taking a long time for either of them to speak. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he heard Cas say, “I want to bring him back to Barachiel’s home. Would you accompany me there?”

“Why do you want him to stay there?” the other angel asked with a pout in his voice.

“I know you don’t want any of them near your bed chamber. I thought you would appreciate my undivided attention.”

Hold the fuck on! Was Cas dropping him off at Barachiel’s? Dean couldn’t believe his ears. The pain instantly morphed into anger. He spent five goddamn days being trained as a goddamn sex slave to find Cas crossed to the darkside and planned on staying here with this dickbag? If Dean ever escaped this realm, if he ever saw Cas again… Dean shook his head and counted to ten in his head. While he wasn’t about to compromise their cover, which apparently was moot now, he couldn’t refrain from sending an angry prayer to Cas.

I hope your Quasahi pleased you, Geiad. And your lover.

He saw Cas visibly tense. Well, it looked like he received his prayer. At least that answered the question about whether or not he could hear him on this realm. The other angel said something in Enochian and handed Cas Dean’s leash. Cas motioned for Dean to stand up, so he could attach it to his collar.

When he grabbed Dean by the chin, he had to refrain from jerking away. Being forced to look up, Cas gave him a pointed look, his eyebrow raised for a brief moment before Dean could hear the click of chain being attached.

When the other angel left the room, leaving them alone for, well, who knew how long... Dean felt relief, because if he had to pretend he was a good fucking slave any longer, he would probably have lost it. He yanked away from Cas and grabbed his tunic, shrugging it up from the bottom, since the damn chain was already attached. He didn’t risk opening his mouth, but he prayed again.

You’re a fucking dick.

Cas grabbed him, an almost yank forcing Dean to turn around. His eyes were storming, he looked pissed. Dean scoffed at him. Cas narrowed his eyes at that and harshly whispered, “Stop assuming things before you know all the facts. Calm down, if Asmodeus doubts me you will ruin every chance we have of getting Sam back.”

Dean heard him, but he was still so fucking angry. Being used as a pawn in this sick and twisted game; he was done. Watching the person you love mack on another guy after having fucked you kind of changes your perspective. Dean let out a mirthless laugh.

Forgive me, Geiad. I seem to have forgotten myself. I am aware of what my use and purpose is to you. I did not mean to offend you or your Viruden.

Cas looked taken aback. Dean had to refrain from smirking at him.

Yeah, asshole. I understand that Enochian word.

Cas gave him a disappointed and sad look. “Good for you, Dean. At least you understood one thing.” The sarcastic tone in his voice wasn’t lost on Dean and neither was the way Cas pulled his chain as he turned around and walked to the door.

Dean yanked on the chain at Cas’s hand, causing the angel to spin around in disbelief. He narrowed his eyes and hissed in a low whisper, “Despite our cover, despite the fact you just fucked me, I am not your whore, so don’t fucking yank my chain and I’ll make sure I keep my trap shut.”

Cas bit his lip and looked down for a moment, Dean wasn’t prepared for the sadness in the angel’s expression. “I’m sorry, Dean. It won’t happen again.”

Damn, did he want to believe Cas. He wanted to fucking forgive him, which he knew meant he was utterly gone for the guy. Life was a bitch. He let out another bitter laugh, because if he didn’t, he’d fucking cry.

Dean scowled at the angel. “Just take me to Barachiel’s.” He was done with this conversation. He was done with everything about this fucking place.

Cas couldn’t respond because Mr. Malfoy had returned, adorned in new garments and holding something in his hands. Dean recognized the insignia on the shoulder plates. Cas’s armor. The other angel had fetched Cas’s armor for him. Wasn’t that fucking sweet of him?

Dean rolled his eyes and knelt again, to bow before the angel, as he had been taught.

He heard the pair of them talk to each other in Enochian, before Cas handed his chain to the asshole to hold while he changed. Dean had to hold his breath to stop himself from shaking, his anger beginning to overwhelm him. Once Cas was dressed, they made their way out of the villa and started the trek to Barachiel’s.

The journey was exhausting, not only because of the heat, but because Dean couldn’t stand watching Cas with that other angel for one more second. Asmodeus couldn’t keep his hands from Cas, touching his wings and shoulders all the time, even kissing his cheek and whispering things in Enochian into his ear. Why the fuck was he whispering? It wasn’t like Dean could understand them anyway… Well, at least as far as they knew...

Dean tried to concentrate on the way they took back to Barachiel’s villa, noticing it was a slightly different route from the last time. He was even more surprised when they suddenly turned and followed a narrow road for a while. Nobody was on this street and all of his hunter instincts were on high alert.

Cas stopped when five angels in armor, followed by Barachiel, entered the road from a path crossing the street. Asmodeus asked Cas something in Enochian, his voice sounded ice cold. Dean flinched when Cas suddenly grabbed the other angel by his throat and slammed him into the wall, holding him up against it, fist closing in tighter and tighter.

Dean had no idea what the hell was going on. Now Cas was threatening his boyfriend? The fuck?

He couldn’t understand the harsh Enochian words Barachiel and Cas’s boyfriend were exchanging, but he could see the situation was escalating. Dean shook himself from his shock and remembered himself, he moved to kneel, but couldn’t resist keeping his eyes up to watch as the scene continued to unfold.

Cas’s wings flared up after a few harsh words from Asmodeus’s lips. Cas smashed the angel against the wall again before he ripped the guy’s throat out with his bare hands. Blood splattered back, over Cas’s face and armor. Dean could hear the gurgling from the angel, slowly dying as blood flowed from his jugular. Cas let go of his grip and stepped back to allow the dying angel to fall to his knees.

Now eye level with Dean, he could see as Asmodeus looked up at Cas, he seemed shocked and fucking broken. He clearly couldn’t understand what had just happened any more than Dean did. The dying angel reached out to grab at Cas’s leg, and he sidestepped him. As Asmodeus fell forward onto all fours, Cas kicked him in the side, eliciting a groan of pain that sounded wet from the way the blood was still bubbling from his neck.

Asmodeus fell to his side, now laid out on the street. Cas knelt beside him, his fingers caressing over the other angel’s face, a cruel sneer that implied the action was a mockery. His next words weren’t in Enochian, “You cannot believe in how many different ways I imagined killing you. At least one for every second I had to endure your presence, your touch. This death is too good for you.”

Cas stood up to look down at the other angel in disgust, before he slammed his heel into the bridge of the guy’s nose, slamming it upward. Dean cringed as he heard the crunch of the cartilage crack and splinter as it was shoved upward, into Asmodeus’s brain. The cry of agony, but lack of death disproved Dean’s theory that maybe angels could die like anyone else in Limbo. He had clearly been wrong, which meant Cas wanted to be as savage as fucking possible. Just went to show you should never piss off a little nerdy guy with wings.

Cas unsheathed his angel blade and without pomp or circumstance, knelt down to slam the weapon into the angel’s heart. Dean covered his eyes as the white light escaped the body with the angel’s last scream. When he braced himself to open his eyes again, he saw the bloody corpse of the angel, wings intact. Apparently the shadow thing only happened on Earth.

He looked up then, Cas was standing over the body looking down at it in disdain. His chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing, blood splattered all over him, before he pulled the weapon out of the corpse. He’d seen Cas in action before, the dude was pretty much the definition of badass, but he’d never seen him be so savage. At least, not when he was Cas Cas. Dean didn’t know how to feel, it was pretty fucked up that this whole scene made him feel like he was even more in love with the angel.

Screw therapy, Dean was going to check himself into a psyche ward when they got back...

Barachiel cleared his throat and Dean could see how intimidated he looked. He said something in Enochian and Cas just nodded. His friend rummaged through Asmodeus’s leather bag and retrieved a key from it, handing it over to the other angel.

Barachiel said something to Cas in Enochian, and he replied, “I could really use a private bath now, my friend.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas sighed in relief when he finally got to the changing room to get out of his armor. He couldn’t wait to be alone with Dean again and finally able to talk freely with him. Barachiel had granted him his wish of privacy with his slave, implying that he could understand that he would need an outlet in the form of sex after what had happened.

He was probably just happy to get out of Cas’s way after his display of violence. It had felt so good, satisfying even, to kill Asmodeus. He almost wished he could do it again. Especially as the thought of Asmodeus made him feel dirty, he wanted to crawl out of his skin when he recalled every touch of the other angel. He needed to feel clean and he hoped a bath would be the best solution. Perhaps he could wash the memory of Asmodeus from his mind the way he could wash off the blood...

Cas departed the changing room into the large private bath. There was a low-level pool that bubbled from the natural hot spring water. It was in the middle of the room, about half the size of an average sized swimming pool, surrounded by four short pillars at each corner. The lighting was dim because no natural light reached this below ground level spring, candelabras lined the walls.

Slowly descending into the warm water, going down the stairs to the middle of the pool, he submerged himself completely for a moment to get all of himself, wings included, soaked with the cleansing water. When Cas stood up again, water dripping from his hair, he turned as he heard a door being opened.

Dean was being escorted into the room by a house slave. The slave bowed to Dean as he closed the door with his exit, leaving them alone.

The hunter’s face was stoic, unmoving, as he slowly made his way towards Cas. Dean stepped down into the water until he was standing in front of him.

“Dean…”

The man slapped him across the face, letting out a soft gasp of pain as he clutched his hand against his chest, before shaking the hand out. He rounded on Cas then. “I get there’s an explanation, and I’ll let you give it, but don’t you ever, ever fucking come on my face and kiss someone else right after, ever again! Do you get me? I know that I’m playing a whore here, but I have to draw the fucking line somewhere.” Dean’s lip trembled.

Cas nodded, the dam that had been holding every emotion back for the past four days suddenly broke, and he could feel a tear fall from his eyes. “Can I please hug you now?”

Dean’s own tears started to fall. “You stupid, son of a bitch,” he whispered before pulling Cas into a hug. The hunter clutched to him tightly, having buried his face in the crook of Cas’s neck.

In that moment, Cas wasn’t entirely certain he would ever be able to let go of him again. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I never wanted to hurt you... I missed you so much.” He wrapped his wings around them.

“Please don’t send me away again,” Dean pleaded in a mumble against his throat.

Cas shook his head, angling his head to kiss Dean’s temple. “Never. Never again.”

Dean turned his head up, eyes red-rimmed with tears. “Fuck it,” he said before pulling Cas into a kiss. A kiss that spoke of all of the pain, all of the fears, and all of the relief the hunter had felt in that moment. After a few minutes, Dean took a deep breath, pressing their foreheads together. “I fucking hate this place.”

“Me, too.” Cas cupped Dean’s cheek and wiped his tears away with his thumb. “I can’t wait to bring both of you home. I found a lot of information about humans that were bought recently. New leads where Sam might be. Barachiel and I had a deal and he fulfilled his promise to me, gathering information on every buyer in the city. It will be a lot of leg work in the next few days, but we’ll have help. I’m sure we’ll find Sam soon.”

The hunter visibly relaxed at that, clearly relieved. “Thank fuck for that, cuz if I had to learn how to milk my goddamn prostate on a cock for nothing, I was gonna be pissed.”

Cas was taken aback by Dean’s bluntness, feeling heat rise in his cheeks. “Um... yes, um...” He looked down at his chest, trying to distract himself from his inappropriate thoughts by washing the blood that his first submersion into the water hadn’t cleaned from his skin.

Dean chuckled. “Dude, you just fucked me and came on my face in front of someone else, you don’t really have room to be embarrassed…”

“I... I..." Cas looked up at the ceiling, trying to find a way to express his emotions. It was too overwhelming. He felt guilt and shame for everything he had done in the past few days, things Dean didn’t even know of. And he still somehow wanted to let him know that he had wanted their first time to be under different circumstances. But was he really in the position to say something like that? They still hadn’t talked about what was happening between them and how it would affect their friendship. He looked down at Dean again, inhaling deeply. “There are no words… for how sorry I am, for having done this to you…”

Dean let out a soft sigh. “I know I was pissed, and don’t get me wrong, I still am, but I should have trusted you. I don’t know, I felt so degraded and then to hear him call you that pet name, and tell him you were getting rid of me… It hurt, Cas, I won’t lie. But I think, deep down, a part of me knew you were doing what you had to. Either way, I’m sorry for not having more faith in you.” He offered a sad smile.

Cas pulled him close again, nuzzling his nose into his hair for a moment to just breathe Dean in, trying to relax in the realization that he really did have him back. He laid one hand at Dean’s neck, rubbing soothing circles into his skin, as he leaned back to look at him again. “I understand why you thought that. If there had been a way to let you know that I was just playing a part, I would have. Hurting you… it’s like hurting myself, Dean.”

Dean sighed into Cas’s touch, face pressed into his chest again, arms clutched around his back. “Fuck, Cas. I really needed this.” He raised his head then and locked eyes with him. “I need you.”

For a moment Cas just looked at him, taking in the intensity in his eyes, like he was begging for understanding of the full meaning behind those words. Cas could feel the words in his chest, reverberating and aligning with his own beating heart. The feeling was overwhelming and confusing, exhilarating and exciting, all at the same time.

He leaned towards Dean, inching their faces slowly closer. Dean’s nose touched his and he could feel the man’s hitched breath ghosting over his lips. He dragged his open lips over Dean’s in a tender touch, before he responded with a soft kiss.

The soft kiss started a chain of more kisses. Kisses that got deeper and longer, until he couldn't stop himself anymore and licked into Dean’s mouth. The quiet moan that escaped from Dean only fueled Cas’s desire to be closer to him. He wrapped his hands around his friend's legs and lifted him up against him, before he walked them to the edge of the bath and sat the hunter down on a higher step behind him. Able to stand between Dean’s legs now, he pressed forward, kissing and holding him tight.

He needed Dean, exactly the same way Dean needed him.  

Cas pulled back from his friend, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, before he finally felt like he could speak again. He cupped Dean’s cheek, trying to convey every emotion he felt in that moment with his eyes, hoping Dean would understand. “I need you, too.”

Dean smiled, a legitimately bright smile that made his eyes gleam in a way he’d never seen before. The hunter shook his head, seemingly in disbelief. “What are we doin’ here, Cas?” His tone was soft, followed by a chuckle. The question wasn’t an accusation, it was genuine curiosity.

"I don’t know, I was hoping to get some direction from you... I... like what we're doing."

“Blind leadin’ the blind here, man. I’ve never done anything like this before either. But… I know I like it, too.”

"So... What are we going to do now?"

Dean shrugged. “Make out?”

"I like that idea." Cas smiled before he looked down at himself. "I need to wash myself first, though."

“Isn’t that my job?” Dean teased.

Cas bodily lifted Dean from the seated position he was in and carried him back to the pool. He chuckled at the annoyed huff the hunter gave him for being carried that way again. When Dean started complaining, making comparisons to other references he didn’t understand, Cas decided on the best way to shut him up. He walked into the pool to waist height, then dropped Dean in.

He smiled down at the hunter when he came up above the water, sputtering and shaking his hair out. At Dean’s narrowed eyes and annoyed look, he replied, “What?” Feigning innocence.

Dean shook his head, but the smile gracing his lips belied how he truly felt. “You’re lucky I like you…”

Cas couldn’t quite explain it, but that casual comment was particularly touching. Although said in an annoyed tone, the sincerity in the statement was almost tangible. He had wanted to respond, but his evaluation of Dean’s words had left a gap of time long enough, that the hunter had already proceeded to help bathe him.

Dean had disappeared behind his back, likely to grab the cleansing oils and soaps. He had not been prepared for what happened next. Dean pressed both of his hands against each of Cas’s wings and stroked. He tried to stifle the moan, but was unsuccessful. Cas almost questioned where Dean had learned where to touch and how to touch his wings, before an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over him.

He’d probably learned it at the Asahi Arba.

Dean must have felt him tense up. “Cas, you okay? Did I do it wrong?”

"No, I just… wasn't aware you would learn about my wings… I'm sorry..."

He felt the hunter press in close to him, leaning his head near the nape of his neck, the breath of his whisper hot against his skin. “I learned a hell of a lot more than that.” Dean snaked one of his hands up to the right scapular and squeezed, milking the gland located in that part of his wing.

The moan that escaped his lips surprised him. He had wrongly assumed that only an angel would ever be able to understand, would ever be able to garner the intense pleasurable sensation Dean was managing to evoke. As the hunter continued to knead his hands into the most sensitive areas of his wings, Cas was suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude. Gratitude for the last sensual experience most titillating to an angel, now belonged to Dean, not Asmodeus.

His heavy heart suddenly felt much lighter, which led to a somewhat disturbing thought. In that moment, Cas was immensely grateful that Sam had gotten kidnapped. If he hadn’t, he and Dean may have never crossed that, now, nonexistent line.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was extraordinarily tired, it had been a long day, replete with physical as well as emotional exhaustion. To have gone from such extreme highs and lows, in a perpetual roller coaster, was graining on him. But through all of it, what shone through and engulfed Dean in light was the possibilities. He still had no idea how he was going to broach the subject with Cas, but he had a feeling the angel was starting to reciprocate his feelings.

It was damn foolish to hope, but having experienced this new level of hell… it kind of put things in perspective. Maybe Cas wouldn’t want to pursue a relationship and they would have to deal with what this meant for their friendship. Or worse, he would want to pursue a relationship and reality would sink in, fights and betrayals, and eventually, the break up. Dean had been terrified of both of those outcomes, because he knew damn well the happy ending option probably wasn’t on the table.

But for the first time in his life, he thought he might be brave enough to try anyway. Not tonight, or while they were stuck in Limbo, but soon. Dean had spent his whole life occupied with chasing after monsters and revenge that he had neglected to realize he had been running away. Running away from the fears of what a life in domesticity looked like for a hunter, running away from the complete shit show that had been his life since he was four years old.

Cas had been able to break through that haze of escapism, bringing Dean back to Earth, quite literally. If he had to choose what it was about Cas that caused Dean to fall in love? It wasn’t the way he made him laugh, or the fierce loyalty, or even his looks; though all of those things didn’t hurt. It was the fact that he honestly didn’t feel like he had ever been awake, until he met Cas. Dean would eventually have to tell him, but for now, he was going to take the scraps of physical intimacy and just not think.

They had a goal here, a mission. Tomorrow would begin their trek to the third district of the city to meet with one of the slave handlers Barachiel had gotten information for Cas on. Tomorrow they would hopefully be one step closer to rescuing his brother and getting the hell out of Limbo.

So, for tonight? He was happy to curl up in their shared bed and just… be.

Cas was already laying out across the bed, his beautiful wings sprawled out behind him as he lay on his side. His naked form really was impressive. It wasn’t perfect, Cas had scars, subtle flaws to his skin, he wasn’t some bulked out idealistic representation of what was considered hyper masculine; but none of that mattered. Cas was perfect to Dean, he probably would be no matter what he looked like.

And that was a weird realization.

Cas quirked his brow at him for the prolonged staring, a confused smile on his face. “What?”

Dean returned the smile and crawled onto the bed, sprawling out alongside the angel, their faces a few inches apart. He shook his head. “Nothin’...”

“It never is nothing, Dean.” Cas had a soft smile on his lips, before he stretched his right wing and folded it over them like a soft blanket, spelling warmth and security. He would miss touching and seeing those when they got back home.

Dean grasped Cas’s left hand with his right, intertwined their fingers, and began to push against the angel’s palm. It was pretty damn silly, but screw it, if he wanted to be playful, he was going to be playful. After a beat and an expectant look from Cas, he finally responded, “Fine, it’s never nothing, but it’s not anything either. I was…” He ducked his head and shied his eyes away, “I was just thinking how hot you were, okay?” Dean mumbled.

“You think I’m hot?” Cas repeated in a disbelieving tone. The fact that Cas was so utterly clueless made him even more attractive. You’ve got it bad, Winchester.

“Dude, you’re seriously hot. You always get hit on, how is this news to you?”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “If by, ‘hit on’ you mean that people flirt with me, you are mistaken. I think I would know.”

“Remember when that chick told you your trenchcoat was cool, and your response was to tell her the damn temperature and correct her?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “One time isn’t always. And at least now I would understand the meaning, thanks to you explaining it to me.”

Dean grinned, it was cheesy and he laughed at the put off face Cas made. “S’what I’m here for!”

“If someone is hot in this room, it’s you anyway…” Cas mumbled, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the ceiling.

Dean let out a bark of laughter that formed into an amused smirk. “What happened to, ‘I don’t see physical features, I’m an angel, blah, blah, blah…’” he teased, making his voice higher than usual just to hammer home his mocking of the angel.

Cas shoved Dean’s shoulder playfully. “It doesn’t make me blind to beautiful things.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the angel. As much as he was enjoying this playful banter, and he really was, he had lots of questions. He couldn’t pretend forever. He took a deep breath and looked down at the sheets between them. “Like Asmodeus?”

Cas visibly paled, his playful smile vanished, forming his mouth into a thin line. His voice turned hard and cold, “He was at his most beautiful lying dead and bloody at my feet.”

Damn. He’d have choked if he was drinking anything in that moment. Dean shook his head, perplexed as hell over – everything. “What happened with him anyway? I know it was an act and all, but you seemed, uh… chummy...”

Cas sat up on the bed and rubbed his hands over his face in apparent contemplation. He looked down at his open hands then and Dean wondered what he was seeing there. It seemed like he was miles away. It took a while before he started to speak, his voice too quiet and too broken for Dean’s liking, “Do you remember how you felt when I held you down over that dresser, when I threatened you?”

Instantly Dean’s blood ran cold. He moved to his knees beside Cas and couldn’t stop the low growl, “What did that fucker do?” Feeling strangely protective of a creature that seriously could hold his own. It was baffling to even think that Cas could get taken advantage of, but if he had, Dean was even more glad for the savage way that angel died.

Cas didn’t appear to have heard the question, his voice sounded detached, “I felt like that the whole time you were away. Asmodeus wasn’t physically stronger than me, he couldn’t have held me down like that if he tried. But he had other ways to hold me down, to make me do things I didn’t want to do.”

Dean gripped the angel’s shoulder, voice soft but firm as he asked, “What did he do, Cas?”

“You were at his school and he didn’t want to share me. I tried to hide the fact that you meant anything to me… but he drugged me that second night and I… I… said your name… He would have killed you if I hadn’t done everything he wanted.”

Dean was feeling a wave of different emotions, from anger and disgust at Asmodeus, to a profound sadness for Cas, and whatever awful things he had to do to keep both of them safe. He didn’t need to hear more, he didn’t want to hear more. Dean could figure out the ‘everything’ Cas was implying.

He used his free hand to gently grasp the angel’s chin, tilting his head up to look at Dean. Blue eyes trying to hold back the pain and torment that he had suffered, shimmering with the threat of tears. This plane was taking its toll on both of them. He didn’t know what to say, how do you console someone who’s going through that kind of trauma? His own experiences, he pushed down to the darkest recesses of his mind and pretended they never happened.

Hell, Sammy didn’t even know the extent of the torture Dean had been subjected to. And he was going to keep it that way. The kid already mother henned him enough about not dealing with his emotions and experiences in a healthy way, if he knew just how fucking bad it had been? Sammy would probably never let him hunt again. But he got through it, he had Cas and Sammy there to distract him, to make him laugh, to make him feel normal. That’s all Dean needed to cope and come to terms with the shit he had been through. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than nothing.

Instead of talking, Dean closed the gap between them and placed a soft kiss to Cas’s lips. A flicker of affection to help ground the angel. Help ground them both. At the relieved smile on his friend’s lips, Dean nodded. “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I thought I could make the pain disappear with my own hands, killing him... finally being free... but it's you who has helped the most since then. The way you touch me... you make me forget."

Dean moved to lay down, his head in Cas’s lap looking up at the angel. “I hate that you even need to forget…”

Cas caressed Dean’s hair, giving him a sad smile. “It couldn’t have been easy for you, either. I don’t want to imagine what you have been going through… I will never let us be separated again.”

Dean smiled and curled into the hand caressing his head. He knew he was projecting his feelings for Cas onto the angel, but the guy didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Thankfully, it was helping him. For once, a plus side of being stupidly in love with someone who didn’t love you back. “Well, we’ll need to be separated sometimes. You can’t follow me everywhere.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

Cas was about to disagree before he seemed to get it. “Oh… well… I… um. Yes, you’re right. But you know what I mean… I’m glad we at least have all night together. It feels good to be myself again.”

“It feels good not having to fucking prance around like a silent, sex slave.” Dean rolled his eyes before he continued, “Seriously, I don’t know how they do it. At any second you could be bent over and fucked, it’s exhausting.”

Cas gave him a thoughtful look, as his fingers massaged patterns in his scalp. It felt soothing and incredibly relaxing. “I hate to say it, but being a Quasahi is probably the best fate a Venqod can have on this plane.”

Dean scoffed. “That’s pretty fucked up. Well, at least I can scratch anal sex off my list now…”

Cas’s finger stopping the caressing motion, as the angel’s body tensed up. He carefully pushed Dean off of his lap and stood up from the bed to walk to the window. Dean was confused by that response, he got up to follow him. At the continued silence, he gently touched the angel’s right wing. “Cas?”

Cas turned around and pulled Dean into his arms, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so sorry, Dean.”

He clung right back, snaking a hand into the angel’s hair and softly petting him. “Hey, it’s okay. It could have been way worse. I’m glad if I had to pop that cherry, it was with you.”

Cas leaned back, giving him a sad half smile. “That cherry?”

Dean knew that Cas had understood the meaning and just wanted lighten the mood. It worked. “Yeah, you’re one of two people who gets to say you popped Dean Winchester’s cherry. Aren’t you lucky?” He chuckled.

Cas bit his lip and frowned for a second, looking insecure. “I don’t know if it’s okay to say this… I’m not sorry I’m one of those persons… I just wish the circumstances had been different.”

Good to know Cas wanted him. There had still been a small part of his brain that questioned whether what was happening between them was for show, for comfort. At least it was confirmed the attraction was mutual. It was like a heavy weight had been lifted. Dean chuckled. “Is it fucked up if I tell you I’m glad they weren’t?”

Cas’s eyebrows shot upward in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled it was Asmodeus watching, but I don’t know… It was kinda hot, knowing someone else was watching.” Dean was a little taken aback by his own confession. Definitely going to a psyche ward when they got back. “Maybe this place is starting to get to me…”

Cas laid his hand on his cheek and rubbed his thumb over Dean’s bottom lip. “I would have prefered us to be alone, and to touch you everywhere I wanted to. I would have prefered to kiss you, to lick every inch of your skin. I would have prefered to be the one preparing you…”

There should be a law against angels talking dirty, because the way Dean’s body reacted was pretty intense. Hearing Cas talk like that, in his gravelly voice, it was doing things to him. “What else would you have done?” he prompted, voice breathy.

He could see the effect it had on Cas, too, the blue of his eyes barely visible. He felt a bit of pressure on his lips when Cas pushed his thumb slightly into his mouth. “I would have taken my time to open you up, teasing you so long until you begged me…” Cas stepped closer, rubbing his nose over his ear, before capturing his lobe between his teeth. “To fuck you…”

Dean groaned and sucked on the angel’s thumb, secretly pleased with the gasp that drew out. He pulled off and pressed in closer, leaning forward to press his lips next to Cas’s ear. “You wanna hear me beg, Cas?”

“I want to take you and fuck you against the wall of this room, Dean.”

Didn’t have to ask him twice. Dean gripped onto the angel’s already hard cock and started stroking. “Then what the hell are you waiting for?”

Cas growled as he lifted Dean and shoved him up against the wall. He wrapped his legs around the angel’s hips, as Cas latched onto his collarbone, claiming him with his lips. Dean pulled his hair, lifting his gaze before he dipped in for a kiss. Relatively soft in comparison to the rough way they were mauling at each other’s bodies. Trying to get closer and closer.

When the angel started trailing hot kisses down his neck, Dean leaned over as much as he could, managing to grasp the small vial of oil from the table beside them. He bit the cork and pulled it off, spitting the cork out on the floor. “Cas,” he breathed. “I’m pretty stretched, but you still gotta use this…”

The angel nodded, grabbing the vial from him and one-handedly coating his cock. It really fucking turned Dean on that Cas was strong enough to hold him up against a wall while preparing his cock.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax like he had been trained as the impossibly huge cock pushed at his rim. When the head slid in, Dean let out a soft moan. Cas pressed in slowly, ever so slowly, until his cock was fully sheathed inside of him. Their breaths came out in harmonious pants as he adjusted to the girth and the angle. Cas’s forehead pressed against his own, still unmoving, Dean decided to take the reigns.

Dean started undulating his hips, fucking himself on Cas’s cock, hitting his prostate with every move. That seemed to shake the angel out of his daze, as he started thrusting in time with Dean’s gyrating. Cas gripped Dean’s hair to roughly pull his lips forward, drawing him into one of the hottest kisses of his life. Maybe it was because he was currently being fucked up against a wall, or maybe because it was Cas, he couldn’t be certain.

Using his tutelage properly, Dean angled himself so that Cas’s cock struck his prostate with every thrust. His breaths were coming out faster and more stuttered, the tingle of pleasure shaking him to his core. Dean was going to come untouched again, and damnit if that wasn’t just the fucking best. He was ruined for all other kinds of sex, he was sure of it.

When Cas growled his name, it tipped him over the edge, coating both of their stomachs with his release. Suddenly everything was too much. Overly sensitive from having just come, he gripped Cas’s shoulder hard, it was fast becoming uncomfortable, “Cas… Cas, I want you to come on my back…”

The angel nodded, lowering Dean to his feet, before flipping him around. Dean braced himself against the wall, enjoying the sound of skin on skin as Cas stroked himself to completion, coating Dean’s lower back and ass in hot, white streaks. Dean tried to steady his breathing. Damn… They had really good fucking sex. He should have tried this years ago.

Cas flipped him again and pressed in close, sealing his lips over Dean’s in a tender kiss, cupping his face in his hands. Dean might have been a little weirded out by how much he liked being man-handled, if he wasn’t presently getting lost in a kiss with the angel he’d been in love with for so long. Dean pulled back and looked down at their stomachs. “We need another bath now…” He chuckled.

“I think this time I should wash you. I made you dirty.”

“I don’t know, Cas… I’m pretty sure convincing an angel of the lord to fuck me up against a wall, I’m the one who’s made you dirty…” He smirked.

Cas scoffed. “I thought it was you that said angels are dicks. Pretty accurate description and nothing much you could corrupt.”

Nodding his acquiescence, Dean winked. “I guess I should be glad for that, then. If you guys weren’t as sexually depraved as humans, this might never have happened.”

Cas gave him a shy smile before he reached over and pulled him into another gentle kiss. “Let’s get you cleaned up and into bed. It will be an exhausting day tomorrow with a lot of walking.”

And there was reality again. Damn, it had been really easy to forget about the outside world, lost in the throes of pleasure. Dean nodded. “One condition, I’m the big spoon tonight.”

Chapter Text

Dean woke up with black feathers in his mouth. He shook his head as he spat at the weird sensation. No big spoon action again until they were back on Earth.

Cas was softly snoring, so instead of waking his grumpy ass up, Dean snuck out of their bed. Time to start the day. He didn’t need to bathe, but he definitely needed to brush his teeth. He found the makeshift toothbrush and oil they used for toothpaste, going about his morning routine in a sort of daze.

He thought back on the previous night. This plane was turning him into a freakin’ slut, not that he was complaining. It was kind of weird, he’d always been a sexual guy, but it had never been quite so… needed before.

After his teeth were clean, he walked over to the table with his satchel, grabbed the oil and buttplug, still in a sort of sleepy haze. Dean made his way to the cushion by the window and got in position. Not even thinking about it, he started prepping himself for the buttplug.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas wasn't sure what had woken him up. The first thing he noticed was that Dean wasn’t lying next to him anymore. The second was a noise. Quiet moans of pleasure coming from Dean.

He turned around and sat up on the bed, feeling his chest constrict at the sight of Dean on the Orfam Othil. Dean was preparing himself. For a moment he didn’t understand why he would be doing it, before realization dawned on him. Quasahi were trained to prepare themselves every morning for their master.

Did that mean... Cas felt a sharp pain in his chest when he realized the implications. He knew Dean was strong, but this world, the five days at that school; had affected him, had broken something in him.

Dean behaved like a Quasahi should behave. He was preparing himself for his master... for Cas.

Did that mean that nothing between them had been real? That Dean was just doing it out of some sort of morbidly, misguided obligation?

“What are you doing?” he breathed out, unable to stop his voice from cracking.

Dean looked up in surprise, but not just surprise at having been caught, a look of almost panic, as though something had just dawned on him. “I… Shit. I don’t know.” He stopped what he was doing and stood up. “Fuck, Cas, I just… I just sort of did it without thinking. Fuck!” Dean turned from him and ruffled a hand in his hair, before he started pacing.

Cas slowly stood up from the bed, still in shock over his realization. He was unsure if he should hug Dean. If he could, or should, touch him at all. Everything they had shared was suddenly a question in his heart. “Dean…” This was his fault. “Please, tell me what I should do? What do you need?”

The hunter stopped his pacing and looked at him, a storm of confusion and fear in his eyes. “I don’t even know anymore…”

Cas took in a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have overstepped… I shouldn’t have… I thought you wanted to sleep with me… I’m so sorry, Dean.”

Dean shook his head and approached Cas, gently grasping him by the shoulders. “Cas… I did want to have sex with you, I do. I…” He looked away as he quietly continued, “I wanted to before we came here…”

For a long moment Cas didn’t know what to say or even think. Dean wanted to have sex with him before they had come to Limbo… He blinked as the realization slowly set in. “Why?”

The hunter chuckled nervously. “Uh… cuz you’re sexy?” he offered, not even sounding like he believed his own answer.

Cas had no idea what he should say, but thankfully he didn’t have to. Their morning was interrupted by an older house slave, that Dean visibly brightened up at seeing.

The hunter approached him and gently took the tray from the older man as he greeted, “How you doin’, Greg?”

The older slave visibly paled, eyes darting from Dean to Cas. Stupid hunter and his annoying habit of talking without thinking. He forgot himself again. Cas hated to do it, but he had to intervene. “Quasahi, kneel!”

As the realization appeared on the hunter’s face, his eyes widened, before he quickly nodded and knelt down.

Cas walked up to the older house slave who had dropped to his knees, too. “Venqod, leave us!”

He watched the older slave bow his head to the floor before hastily retreating from their room. Cas let out a relieved exhale. “You know you put him in danger when you do stuff like that, don’t you?”

Dean sighed. “I know all too fucking well…” His tone was bitter.

Cas reached down and offered Dean a hand. “I’m sorry. You know I don’t like it either.”

The hunter took it as he stood up. “I know, Cas. It just really sucks. I’m trying fucking hard to not lose myself here.”

Cas pulled him close. “I told you I will remind you. Even if I have to kick your ass to get your fighting will back.”

Dean chuckled. “Sounds like true love right there…”

That offhanded, casual comment was like a punch in the chest. Suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. Every puzzle piece of emotion he had tried to figure out and put together, it finally revealed the picture. A picture he had so desperately tried to understand.

Love.

He looked at Dean when the sudden clarity overwhelmed him. He was in love with Dean.

Cas quietly watched Dean carry the food to the bed, feeling like he was frozen in place. He had no idea what he should do now. Should he tell Dean?

No, that was probably the last thing Dean wanted to hear right now. Timing wasn’t Cas’s forte, but even he knew that their current mission wasn’t the place for a love declaration. He tried to think of the future, when they would return to the bunker.

Would Dean be open to another form of relationship with him? The man had already confessed that he found him sexually attractive before, but Cas knew that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Dean found a lot of women sexually attractive, but he’d never wanted to have a relationship with them. Cas only knew of one relationship… and that was a long time ago. It seemed more likely Dean had given up on having something like that in his life and wasn’t open to it anymore.

Maybe he should just wait and see. If nothing else, Cas had a lot of patience.

Dean called out, “You gonna make me eat this by myself?”

“Don’t make it sound like you couldn’t eat all of this alone.” Cas smirked back as he made his way over to join him.

The hunter feigned dismay and shook his head. “Gotta watch my girlish figure…”

Cas squinted his eyes at his friend’s stomach and poked him. “You’re right, you should let me eat all the sweet food.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter. “Dick!” He proceeded to grab a strawberry torte, and smashed it all over Cas’s lips. He then gave him a cheeky smile.

Cas pinned Dean down on the bed and kissed him, smearing the cream all over his friend’s face in retaliation.

Laughing, he pulled away. “Help! My angel is rabid!”

Cas’s heart flipped when Dean referred to him in such a possessive way. He knew the hunter probably didn’t mean it like that, but for a second he let himself believe he had, enjoying their playful banter. “You look rabid, too! What should we do? You can’t go out like that.”

“Heaven knows I can’t figure that out, I’m just a little ol’ slave, I don’t make decisions…” He feigned a pout and batted his lashes, before he snorted a sharp laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

Cas couldn’t help but grin at Dean’s ridiculous behavior. The only fitting response was to lick the cream off of his face.

Dean pushed at him. “Stop it, you big puppy!” The push wasn’t hard, he was still leaning over the hunter pinned beneath him. As their chuckling started to subside, Dean’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “How much time do we have before we have to leave?”

“Thirty minutes. Why?”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Wanna see how long it takes to make you come from wing massage?”

…. :::: :::: ….

After an intense makeout session and successfully making Cas come from wing massage in under fifteen minutes, they finally got ready to face the day. Dean had been shaken earlier that morning, prepping himself like the goddamn catamite he was playing, without even thinking about it. It had come second nature to him. Five days in that hell hole and his training had reached his subconscious. If they had the kind of time necessary, he would probably be freaking out a little more about the situation.

Instead, tried and true to the Winchester way, the emotional trauma bullshit was being put on the backburner. Also tried and true, he was using sex as a coping mechanism, which was probably a terrible idea. Especially having sex with the angel he was secretly in love with, who just so happened to be playing the master to his slave. Freud would be having a friggin’ field day with him.

But for some reason, being sexual with Cas was calming. It was hot as hell and the best sex he’d ever had, don’t get him wrong, but it was so much more than that. They were able to tune out and just… be, while in each other’s embrace; and that was far more comforting than– hell, anything else.

Chain attached, tunic donned, and despite Cas’s minor freak out, buttplug inserted; they began their trek towards the third district of the city; Gula. The journey was hot, and long, and awful. But thankfully Cas kept informing Camael that he needed periodic rest periods. Dean wasn’t stupid, he knew he did that for him and the other slave; angels didn’t need to rest, but Camael never questioned him.

Although, it was doubtful any of the angels would question Cas. He emitted this terrifying and authoritative aura in this realm. No one wanted to fuck with the guy, and after seeing how he dealt with Asmodeus, it would probably be the last thing they’d do if they tried.

When they finally reached the third district, it was unlike the other two they’d seen. Gula was basically a slum in comparison, no form of real infrastructure. The roads were mostly dirt, kept up, but still dirt. Stone buildings built upon brick archways, wooden steps and rails trailing up and around them in haphazard patterns. It looked crowded, not only from the dirty buildings and pillars being on top of each other, but the amount of angels and slaves that were amassed in and outside of the different markets and homes.

It was such a drastic difference. Wooden carts with tattered blankets over them, people trying to sell any and everything. Slaves being dragged around by ropes, as opposed to iron chains. A makeshift stage that, even from where Dean was walking, he could see the broken ramparts and boards. The two women dancing for the smattering of onlookers were probably going to fall through the damn thing.

As they filed through the crowd, it was interesting to watch the residents’ reactions to Cas. Angels were shoving their slaves forcefully to the ground when they noticed his armor, tipping their own heads in respect as they walked by. Cas kept his head up, not acknowledging any of them. This was probably what royalty felt like. Dean hated it.

When they reached a quaint villa, a lot nicer than the ghettos they had just passed, but nowhere near as nice as Barachiel’s or Asmodeus’s places. This home belonged to an angel named Solas, he was Camael’s inside guy for all of the slave trading information they were going to need.

The villa was an open layout, no doors to the entrances or shutters over the windows. The slaves standing at the door way barked something in Enochian to each other when they saw the four of them approaching. Cas strode forward into the home as they bowed to allow him entrance.

The entryway was clean and bright, unlike the dirty streets they had just hiked through. An imposing looking angel appeared from the large bay windows on the other side of the room. His dark long hair fell down to his shoulders, face stern, thick moustache curved downwards in a perpetual frown. The angel had several tattoos across his chest and arms, standing drastically out against his darker skin tone, wings a light shade of brown, almost like a hawk’s feathers.

The big guy was accompanied by a smaller, female angel. She had crazy, long and curly red hair, that framed her incredibly petite frame. Green eyes stood drastically out against her fair skin. Cas and Camael greeted the pair of them in Enochian. Dean could hear their continued and hushed dialogue in the hallway, before being escorted into another room. Leaving Dean alone with all of their slaves.

The female angel’s slave was probably his age, deep onyx colored eyes and a complexion that reminded him of Cleopatra. She was about his height, too, maybe even half an inch taller. A little intimidating, especially considering she was eyeing him skeptically. Pretty ballsy, considering his “Geiad’s” rank. Solas’s slave was a shorter, more portly man, he nervously kept his head bowed to Dean.

The longer the silence continued, the more uncomfortable and tense it was becoming. What the hell did four slaves even have to say to each other? ‘Had any unwarranted beatings lately?’ This place sucked. Dean decided to go with tried and true. “I’m Dean, who are you guys?”

Solas’s slave looked utterly petrified after he spoke, whereas Camael’s slave tried to refrain from chuckling. The lady angel’s slave quirked a brow at him. “Your Geiad named you?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just surprised.

Dean shook his head. “No, it’s my name, from the other plane. Like all of you had before you came here?”

Camael’s slave smirked as he answered, “Kristoff.”

The shorter slave stammered out, “Ar–Arnold.”

Cleopatra folded her arms against her chest. “You aren’t like other Venqod…”

Dean scoffed. “That’s cuz I’m a Quasahi. Look, tell me, don’t tell me, I’d just rather call you by a name as opposed to Venqod.”

After a beat she finally said, “Sable.”

“See? Was that so hard?” He gave her a sly smile, to which he received an annoyed eye roll.

Sable appeared contemplative for a moment, before addressing him, “Is your Geiad the one they call Castiel?”

The hairs on the back of Dean’s neck stood up. He didn’t like the way she asked about Cas. He knew his friend was known here, but there was something off about her tone. “Yes, why?”

“Has he returned on his business?”

“Business?” Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion. What the hell was she talking about?

“He’s a slave trader from the other realm, is he not?” she asked, her tone blasé, as though that was common knowledge.

Dean shook his head, not understanding. “Why do you say that?”

“Considering when he had been here a few years back, he had been in search of purchasing an inordinate number of souls from Solas...”

What the fuck? Cas had told him it’d been a few hundred years since the last time he’d been to Limbo. Maybe time didn’t pass here the way it did on Earth? “How many is ‘a few’ years?”

“I cannot say for certain, within the past decade from what I understood.”

Dean was so confused. Why the hell would Cas lie abo–Son. Of. A. Bitch. That utter bastard. He must have tried to get souls from Limbo, as well as Purgatory, when he had his showdown with Raphael all of those years ago. Dean narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you know all of this?”

She shrugged. “I just I overheard them discussing it before they retreated into the parlor.”

Dean was pretty pissed, but he had to try and keep his cool. The last thing he needed was to lose his shit and forget himself, he was a slave afterall. Dean’s internal reverie was interrupted by Sable asking,

“So, is he here in search of souls again?”

Dean shrugged. “How should I know? I’m just his Quasahi.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas felt frustrated and angry. He tried to get information about Sam, but it was difficult to ask for someone so specific without raising more than just a few eyebrows.

The female angel, who had introduced herself as Buer, was already giving him suspicious looks. Probably because Solas couldn’t keep his mouth shut as he referred to Cas’s last visit here, when he tried to get souls for his fight against Raphael.

“Would you mind terribly if I conduct my business with good Solas here, alone?” He punctuated, his annoyance and frustration flowing with the lilt of his voice in the hopes she would leave and wait outside for her turn. He was aware that she had arrived first, but he didn’t care in that moment if he was being rude. Cas was more than ready to leave this place, and if he had to pull rank with these angels to do so, he had no qualms about it.

Camael gave him a nod and laid his hand on Buer’s shoulder. “Come, my Lady, I will keep you company while we wait for the Commander and Solas to finish their conversation.”

Castiel chose to ignore the look of disdain and disgust Buer shot at him. She followed Camael outside without a word.

Once they were alone, Cas relaxed instantly. He didn’t know why the female angel had made him feel so tense. Solas laughed, his rough voice sounding affectionate as he said, “She is quite a handful and a menace to every slave trader. Always wanting to control my numbers and my new slaves.”

Cas was surprised to hear that. “She isn’t here to buy one?”

Solas grinned. “Oh yes, she is. She buys a lot of them actually. More than she needs. Maybe she wants to open a zoo of mud monkeys.”

Cas shook his head slowly. He couldn’t wait to leave this place. The aggression and anger inside of him started to make him feel antsy.

“But enough about her, you said you needed a specific kind of slave?”

Cas inhaled deeply, time to play his role. Schooling his features back to an expression of congeniality, he nodded. “I know you’ve heard about what happened to Asmodeus and why. I don’t have any desire to change, or even touch, the running system you already have established here. But I will, if more angels get in the way of my investigation.”

Solas’s grin vanished from his face and he nodded tersely. “I will do anything to help you.”

Cas smiled. “I know you will. Someone stole a soul from Earth that doesn’t belong here. Someone upset the balance.” He let out a disinterested chuckle, “Not that I really care about the balance, but I do care about my stolen property. I want it back. And I understand it’s difficult to find someone specific, especially when Barachiel showed me the number of new souls that have recently arrived. But the longer I’m forced to stay here because I have not gotten this human back, the more unsatisfied I will become. And when I’m unsatisfied… well...”

“I understand, Commander....” Solas appeared passive. “I would be angry, too, if someone stole something from me. Would you describe the soul to me so I may help you find him?”

Cas leaned back against the cushion, taking a sip of the wine. “Tall, chin long, brownish hair. Built for manual labor.”

Solas nodded. “I’m sure I will find him in no time.”

Cas stood and clasped Solas’s shoulder with a smirk. “I’m sure you won’t dissapoint me.”

The broader angel nodded quickly and accompanied Cas to the door. “I will let you know as soon as I have the information. I will search for him, personally.”

Cas opened the door to greet Camael, wondering where the female angel had gone, but definitely relieved he wouldn’t have to see her again. Solas said his goodbyes and closed the door behind him.

Cas gave Camael a concerned look. “Are you sure Solas is to be trusted with this task?”

Camael nodded. “He knows everyone. He will find your property. Can I ask you a question?”

Castiel nodded. “Of course.”

“Why is this one soul so important to you? You could replace him with anyone you like. Why the effort?”

“I don’t care for his soul, but his body. He is the true vessel of one of my brothers,” Cas explained, glad that his story was, at least, a half truth. The best lies were always rooted in the truth.

“I understand. He’s of great value then, to Heaven,"  Camael appeared to ponder out loud.

“Why do you think they sent me?” Cas raised an eyebrow. “I trust you with this information. Keep it to yourself and help me find the vessel. I’ll make sure you will be rewarded. You know I keep my promises.”

A sudden pained cry from the adjourned room stopped their conversation. They both whirled around and barged into Solas’s office to find the angel stabbed to death, lying on the floor, blood pouring from his chest.

The nearby window was open and Cas walked to it to look outside, trying to see if someone was running away, but there wasn’t any suspicious activity.

“We have to call an investigator, Castiel.”

Shit. That was the last thing they needed right now.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean had had to refrain from running to the sound of the screams, especially considering Kristoff and Arnold weren’t even batting an eyelash. Sable had already left with her master shortly after Cas and the other angels went into the parlor.

They stood there, completely in the dark for probably a good thirty minutes when some stuffy looking angel came swooping in, wearing a black robe accented with shoulder plates, a breastplate, and chainmail on his legs. All of which was bedecked with the insignia of Limbo. He disappeared in the room where the scream sounded like it had come from and returned a few minutes later, followed by Cas and Camael.

Well, that narrowed down who snuffed it.

Thibault had shown him the different Enochian patterns and symbols he would need to know, including those worn by what was essentially, the Angel Police; Zirorela. He had a distinguished face, handsome despite the showing of age in subtle wrinkle and the tufts of grey that was grading upwards to the crown of his head. His eyes looked kind, until they landed on Cas.

“Well, isn’t this interesting? Two violent deaths in two days and you’re present at both of them…” He addressed Cas with a furrowed brow and asked, “Can you tell me, Castiel, why it is, every time a particularly violent death occurs in my realm, you’re usually within the vicinity?”

“I assure you, this time it’s just a coincidence. I have never killed someone outside of the law, Zagan. If you have further questions regarding the matter, you should discuss it with the new dominator of Luxuria.”

Zagan scoffed. “What would you know of the law?”

“Are you seriously questioning my Baltoh? I know the law. I had every right to take Asmodeus’s life and you know it. You should concentrate on finding the killer instead of asking me stupid questions.”

“Let’s start with your Quasahi, shall we?” Zagan rounded then, approaching Dean.

He had to resist giving the guy as much attitude as Cas, but he recalled the role he was playing. Dean knelt before the angel.

“Stand, Venqod, I need to address you.”

Dean stood up, making eye contact with him, attempting to have defiance in such a small gesture. He nodded. “Zirorela.”

“What can you tell me about what occurred here?”

Dean shrugged. “Not much, Sa… Solas’s angel companion and her Venqod departed shortly after we all arrived, and maybe ten minutes later, there was a blood-curdling scream. My Geiad did not step from the presence of Camael.” 

Zagan quirked his brow. “And how would you know that? Venqod are not permitted in meeting parlors.”

“Because if my Geiad had committed such a crime, he would have been justified in doing so.” Fuck, he hoped defending Cas wouldn’t bite him in the ass.

“And who was Solas’s companion you speak of?”

Dean shook his head. “A female angel and her Venqod, she is unknown to my Geiad, thus she is unknown to me…” The urge to poke his tongue out at the angel was overwhelming. He hated the way the guy was talking down to him, as though slaves weren’t intelligent enough to understand anything.

Zagan rounded on Camael then. “Who was this angel, Camael?”

“She introduced herself as Buer. I think I met her once in my life. She is from Avaritia, I believe. And the Quasahi speaks the truth, Zirorela. The commander hasn’t left my side.”

He approached Arnold, who looked as though he were on the verge of tears. “Venqod, can you tell me if this angel had reason to harm your Geiad?”

Arnold shook his head emphatically. “They have been friends for many years now. I don’t understand why anyone would harm my Geiad…”

Dean was a little perplexed at that response. How could anyone who had been enslaved, be so heartbroken over the loss of their master? He was only fake enslaved to Cas, and he wanted to deck the guy half the time.

Camael approached the slave. “I will make sure to take good care of you and the rest of Solas’s household.”

Arnold bowed his head until his forehead touched the floor. “Zir ag zol, Geiad. ”

It was the first time Dean had noticed that the ‘Detective’ had spoken in English the whole time since he had arrived. Since all of the slaves he had met spoke Enochian, he wondered why the angel had done that… Unless he, somehow, already knew that Dean didn’t understand Enochian and wanted to see his reaction when he questioned Cas.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas slammed the door to their room shut a lot harder than might have been necessary, but he needed an outlet for his frustration. Solas’s death was inconvenient. Not only had he lost a perfect and faster way of finding Sam, but now he also had Zagan’s unwanted attention. He scrubbed his hand over his face in frustration, wishing there would be an easy way to get rid of that bastard.

Dean approached him. “Wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”

Cas walked up to the window and looked outside. “Someone killed our best chance at finding your brother quickly.”

“I figured that much out on my own, I want to know why that officer, or whatever the hell they are here, is gunnin’ for you…”

Cas shrugged. “He doesn’t like me.”

The hunter grasped his shoulder to turn him around. “Blind people could see that, I want to know why…”

Cas closed his eyes in an effort to calm down. He felt incredibly angry, but the last thing he wanted was to take his anger out on Dean. He took a deep breath. “He represents the law, but he doesn’t execute it. If there is a crime in which only angels are involved, the case has to be brought before one of the seven Dominators, more precisely, the Dominator of the district it happened in. The Dominator decides the punishment. Zagan doesn’t like me because he can’t get to me. I stand above most of the laws and have the right to execute a punishment without a Dominator’s sanction. I guess he thinks that’s unfair…”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “So, it has nothing to do with you trying to get a bunch of souls from this realm when you had your throw down with Raphael?”

Cas froze and slowly turned around to Dean. How did… It didn’t matter how his friend found out about that. He knew. And Cas was aware that his expression had just confirmed Dean’s accusation.

“No, I don’t think he knows about that…” It wouldn’t make sense to deny it now. He had to face the consequences.

Dean scoffed. “You’re not even gonna explain why you lied to me about the last time you were here? I thought we were past this, man.”

“Honestly...” Cas sighed and turned away from the window to sit down on the bed as he continued, “I have tried to forget about that. I’m aware… I know that I’ve made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes I’m not proud of. I also know that, if I had never met you, I would probably be exactly the same way my brothers are. I would have never questioned anything. Souls would still be nothing more than a distribution of power between the different planes. Long before you, angels would smite whole cities for simple mistakes… it was always about the ‘bigger picture’, as you called it. For a long time I thought the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. And when I met you...” Cas looked up at Dean and said, “One soul slowly became more important to me than everything.”

“Dude, did you just quote Spock?”

Cas thought about that for a second before he slowly nodded. “I think I did…” He raised a surprised eyebrow at Dean.

Dean waved his hand dismissively. “Uh, uh. No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to be all cute and quoting Star Trek when I’m pissed at you…”

Cas sighed and looked down. “What do you want me to say, Dean? Do you want me to apologize? You know how I feel about my past mistakes…”

He felt the bed dip as Dean sat beside him. “Look, Cas, we all have shit we don’t like bringing up and I’m the last one to talk, I get that… But we need to be on the same page here. Secrets fuck us over every time and you know it…”

“So… you want me to tell you everything?” Cas asked slowly.

“Is there more shit you’re not tellin’ me?”

“You will hate me.”

Dean grabbed Cas’s hand then and held it, a gentle squeeze of comfort. “That’s not possible.”

Cas gave him a sad smile. “You don’t even know what I’ve done. How can you be so sure?”

Dean returned the smile. “Cuz I have faith in you.”

Cas bit his lip and looked away. “I’m afraid I will lose you… your faith in me. That’s why I never told you about the times I was here. Telling you and reminding myself of that time, it brings all of the darkness back, reminds me of how I thought and how I felt at that time. I wasn’t better than any of my brothers, I was exactly like one of those monsters you hunt and kill, Dean.”

“If that’s true, then why am I sitting here? Why am I posing as your sex slave so we can try to find Sammy together? I’ll tell you why: because you aren’t like those dicks. We all change, we all grow. I used to get freaked out when a guy hit on me, now I can ride a cock like a freakin’ pro. I don’t give a damn what you did in your past, Cas. And if it wasn’t important to know, so I don’t fuck up in playing my part, then I wouldn’t ask you. Cuz it doesn’t matter.”

He took a deep breath before he gave Dean a once over. “You should get comfortable… it’s a long story. Maybe it’s time I tell you a little bit about my past.”

Dean shrugged. “Sitting on a bed, can’t get more comfy than that.”

Cas let himself fall back on the bed as he pulled Dean down with him. Somehow he felt if he told this story quietly, in the intimate space between them, then he might be strong enough to bring the words over his lips. That Dean’s closeness alone could help him shoulder his confession.

“You see how the other angel’s react to me? It’s not because they respect me.”

Dean curled into the crook of his arm. “It’s cuz they’re scared of you?”

Cas nodded, he knew Dean must have noticed that already. “Every angel from Heaven would be respected here, I already told you that we are different from them. But not every angel from Heaven was permitted to visit Limbo. The archangels were concerned that some angels wouldn’t want to come back to Heaven once they visited Limbo, so we had strict rules on how to engage this plane. Only those of my rank or angels with special assignments were allowed to visit. Under no circumstances were we allowed to share information about Earth or Heaven, nor were we allowed to disturb the ways things were handled in Limbo. Of course, not every angel thought that way and they became a dangerous liability.”

Dean quirked his brow. “Let me guess, they needed to be taught a lesson?”

Cas nodded. “When you met me, I had the rank of a commander and my own garrison. I earned that rank for being Heaven’s bloodhound. It was my task to look for those angels in Limbo and destroy them. Not only kill them, but slaughter them, make them into an example of how Heaven would deal with disobedience.”

The hunter seemed unconcerned, which was a strange response. He shook his head and asked, “Is that all?”

“No, that's not all… Remember how you felt when you were in Purgatory? How the plane somehow affected your emotions? Limbo has a similar effect on me. I constantly feel on edge and it gets worse the longer I stay here. The last time I was here, I nearly didn’t come back from all of this… They offered me a slave for my amusement and… I nearly killed one of them. I didn’t care about any life… about any of them. I’m afraid, Dean. I’m afraid to lose control, I’m afraid to lose myself.”

Dean seemed contemplative for a moment, probably mentally adding up the different behaviors he’d witnessed since their arrival. “I haven't seen you lose it yet, maybe you have a better grasp on your emotions now?” He offered before he asked, “Did you lose it when we were separated?”

Cas could hear the reticence in the hunter’s voice, as though he wanted, but at the same time didn't want, to know. Dean had asked him to be honest and even though everything in Cas screamed at him to not say anything. He nodded slowly and said, “It’s easier to be in control when you’re around. You remind me of who I am. When you were away… I was only reminded of how it felt to be a monster. Asmodeus loved seeing that part of me and he didn’t stop poking and prodding…”

He looked away from Dean. He couldn’t tell him. It was too much. Cas didn’t want to relive those feelings and what he had done. He tried to bury the images of blood that flashed in his mind, already feeling the anger and aggression rising in his chest accompanied by a wave of lust.

The hunter cupped his face, eyes shimmering with such compassion, it was almost too much. “I’m here, Cas.”

Something broke inside of him. He pulled Dean closer, hiding his face in his friend’s shoulder. “I killed a slave, Dean. And I’m responsible for the death of another. Two innocent souls are gone because of me.”

He had no right to be in Dean’s arms. He had no right to be comforted by his friend. Dean would hate him now, how could he ever forgive him for something like that? Cas pulled back, his eyes downcast. He was afraid to see the shock and disappointment, a look he already knew well.

Dean tilted his chin up, forcing him to look. Instead of disappointment and betrayal, he was met with an unreadable expression, before finally the hunter asked, “Can I ask you something?”

Cas just nodded, unable to form any words.

“Do you hate me for all of the people I killed when I was a demon?”

How could Dean think that? “Of course not! That wasn’t your fault.”

“Then why, in the fuck, would I hate you for basically being in the same position I was?”

“It’s not the–”

“If you say ‘it’s not the same’, I swear…”

Cas huffed out a deep breath and turned on the bed to look at the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do… or what to feel anymore. This realm feels like a sickness. It subjects me to sleep, hunger, violence and… it’s all twisted and feels wrong, but at the same time it feels good… Promise me something, Dean?”

“To beat the hell out of you like you said you’d do for me?” He smirked.

Cas faced Dean again and slowly shook his head. “No. If you see me losing myself… run.”

The hunter mimicked the movement, shaking his head in response. “No dice. You’re stuck with me.”

“Dean… I don’t want to hurt you.” Why couldn’t he see that his loss of control could kill him?

Dean chuckled. “Don’t you get it? I’m not scared, cuz I don’t have anything to be scared of. We’ve both been down this road before, we always get through to each other.”

Cas slowly shook his head, in awe of the human before him. Dean was right. Cas had no idea how the man had been doing it all this time, but he was right… He had cut through Naomi’s mind control and reached him, even though it should have been impossible. Dean had also been able to get through to him when he was under the ‘attack dog’ spell and had nearly killed someone. Even when the Leviathan and souls had control over his body, Dean’s words had been an anchor to him to find the strength and break through, to go to him and let him help.

He was in love with Dean. And even though the realization was still new to him, he understood now that the feeling had been there for a long time.

Cas touched Dean’s forehead, the way an angel would touch his lover in this realm. Index and middle finger extended to draw a crescent moon shape from forehead to cheek. He wanted to say the Enochian word he had once said to Asmodeus, but recalled that Dean already knew its meaning. There was another word that fit even better, a word that described how Dean was Cas’s light in all of the darkness that was his life. “Micaloz.”

Dean seemed taken aback, a flicker of understanding crossed his face. He smiled. “Be careful, Cas, your sweet side is showing…”

“Did you understand that?” Cas breathed out in surprise.

“Thibault taught me some Enochian. I…” Dean ducked his head, color tinging his cheeks. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“What else did he teach you?” Cas asked slowly. He wondered if Dean also knew the meaning behind his touch and what it meant addressing someone with a term of endearment.

Dean raised his index and middle finger at a slight bend and pressed them to Cas’s cheek, drawing the half circle up to his temple; the touch of reciprocation from an angel’s lover. He smiled. “Things I wanted to learn…”

His heart started to beat faster as the whole world narrowed down to just the two of them lying on the bed, sharing the air that was heavy with meaning.

“Dean.” Cas’s fingers fell to his friend’s neck and pulled him closer, he leaned his forehead against him and closed his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to say more, fearing that the jumbled thoughts and hopes he was feeling would destroy their moment. So, he just kissed Dean.

The hunter crawled on top of him, never breaking their lips’ contact, as he pressed himself against Cas. After several minutes of passion and heat, Dean broke their contact, pupils lust blown and the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “So… What have we learned, Cas?” His tone teasing and smile friendly.

Cas gave him a warm smile in return. “That as long as we’re together, we can get through anything.”

“And…” he prompted.

Cas pulled Dean down to kiss him. “And?”

He laughed. “When you’re honest, you get rewarded with makeouts.”

Cas raised his eyebrow. “So, you’ll continue to kiss me every time I’m honest with you?”

Dean used his index finger to draw an invisible X over his chest. “Promise.”

Cas smirked. “In that case… Your pronunciation of Enochian words sucks.”

The hunter let out a quick bark of laughter, his brow quirked up in amusement. “You’re a dick, but a promise is a promise…” He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Cas’s cheek.

Prompting a chuckle, he continued, “I also like your freckles. I think they’re very attractive.”

Dean looked taken aback by that, a slight curve of his lips made him appear far more innocent than the man had any right to. This time he pressed the soft kiss to Cas’s other cheek. “You know most people don’t find freckles attractive, right?”

“I’m not ‘most people’, Dean.” He let his fingers wander over the freckles on Dean’s partly revealed shoulder. “My favorite color is green… Do you know why?”

The hunter shook his head. “Something to do with bees?”

Cas gave Dean a confused look. “No. Bees are yellow and black, Dean.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know that, doofus. But they pollinate green shit…”

Cas shook his head. “It’s your eye color. Green is my favorite color because it reminds me of you.”

His eyes flickered over Cas’s face, as though he were trying to gauge how truthful he was being. “Mine’s blue,” he confessed with a shy smile.

Cas tilted his head, squinting his eyes. “I wonder why… I think you still owe me at least one kiss.”

“You’re gonna get sick of me at this rate…” This time, instead of a soft kiss to one of his cheeks, Dean grasped Cas’s face in both hands, in an effort to steady both of them as he crashed their mouths together. The hunter tapped his tongue at his lips, requesting entrance that was happily given. As Cas slipped his tongue into Dean’s mouth, the man began to gently suckle on it, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head from the sheer sinfulness of the action. Every time they kissed it was like it was new and exciting, which was interesting considering the action itself could be pretty repetitive. But not with Dean.

He wanted to experience everything with Dean, he wanted them to learn each other in every way possible. There were more truths on his mind that he wanted to confess, a few of them he knew he wasn’t ready for. Like how much he loved Dean and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. Those were wishes and desires that would have to wait.

But there was one thing left that he wanted to confess to Dean.

Burying his hands in Dean’s short hair, he drew back from the kiss that had already begun to overwhelm him with lust and desire to go further. “I have another confession, Dean.”

The hunter appeared concerned. “What?”

Cas rubbed his thumb over Dean’s parted lips, he couldn’t wait to kiss him again. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

He quirked his brow. “Not in a possession kinda way, right?”

Cas squinted his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be me inside of you?”

“S’that what they’re calling what we did last night?” Dean chuckled, clearly amused by his own silliness. After a beat his face grew rather serious as he asked, “You sure, Cas?”

Cas nodded. “But… I don’t know if that is such a good idea… I don’t know if you even want to and… it’s forbidden on this plane. I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger.”

Dean rolled off of Cas to lay beside him, curled into his side, using his left hand to trace patterns into his chest. “I absolutely do, that’ll never be a question, but if it’s forbidden here then…” He seemed hesitant before he finished with a quiet, “Maybe we’ll just have to try that when we get back?” The hope that was underlined in the hunter’s tone was palpable.

Cas felt happiness blooming in his chest, a smile played around his lips. “You mean, you want to continue this… when we’re back home?”

The hunter shied away. “That was dumb of me to ask, sorry…” Dean shook his head. “Maybe this place really is getting to me.”

Cas caressed Dean's cheek to stop him from talking. “Dean, I would be more than happy if you would still allow me to kiss and touch you when we got back.”

There was a flicker of hope, of happiness, before realization struck. “Shit, Cas. What does this make us?”

He gave him an insecure smile. “You’re asking me?”

Dean shrugged. “I guess you’re right…” He leaned up onto his elbow, still beside Cas, as he looked down. “I’ve, uh… I’ve never really asked… I don’t even, uh…” Cas found it endearing how flummoxed the usually calm hunter was. The man took a deep breath to compose himself before breathing out, “I like you, Cas.”

The smile on his face was mirrored in Dean’s when he replied, “I like you, too.”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I don't even know how to ask an angel out. Is there something I have to do?”

Cas shook his head with a chuckle. “I think you're overthinking this, Dean.”

That seemed to sober the hunter up. He pressed forward and placed a quick kiss on Cas’s lips. When he pulled his lips away, he leaned his forehead against Cas’s. “Go out with me?”

Cas felt his smile growing wider as the happiness inside overwhelmed him. He had never felt like this before and it was strange, and new, and oh, so good. He felt his eyes burning somehow. “Yes.” He nodded and repeated, “Yes, I’ll go out with you.”

Dean let out a relieved laugh, his smile soft and pleased as he pulled back. “Awesome.”

Cas pulled Dean towards him again, leaving a feather light kiss on his lips. And then another, but this one lasted longer before he licked into Dean’s mouth and rolled them over, onto his back.

“Dean,” he breathed out between kisses. “I really want to have sex with you now.”

“Good thing I put the butt plug in when you weren’t lookin’, huh?” He growled as he straddled Cas’s hips. He sat upright and pulled his tunic off, throwing it across the room. Before Cas could react, Dean grabbed his hand and guided it to his hole, to grip the base of his buttplug. The hunter writhed against it, head thrown back in pleasure. When hooded eyes looked down, he breathed out, “Please tell me you can mojo the oil over here…”

“Of course I can.” But it was really hard to concentrate on anything with Dean sitting over him like that. He groaned in frustration as he tried to see where the oil was. It took two tries to get it from the table into his hand. He hoped Dean didn’t notice.

He handed the vial to the hunter, and while still grinding against Cas’s other hand playing with the plug, he reached down to pull up his toga, revealing his painfully hard erection. Dean coated Cas’s cock with the oil, giving him a few strokes before he pulled himself back. At a dizzying speed, the hunter pulled the plug out and gripped Cas’s cock again, guiding it to his hole and sliding down. They both groaned from the intense sensation of Dean seating himself fully on his erection.

Barachiel chose that moment to interrupt them with one of his house slaves. “Don’t stop on my account, Castiel.”

Cas rolled his eyes and shot Dean an apologetic look, before he slipped out of him and pulled the blanket over Dean’s naked body. “What do you want, Barachiel?”

“My household is moving tonight and we’re invited to a feast by the Dominator of Gula to celebrate my new title. It’s a long way to his villa, so we should get ready.”

“You’re moving?” Cas asked, surprised.

Barachiel smiled. “ Asmodeus’s villa belongs to me now. I always liked his garden better than mine. You can fuck your Quasahi later, Castiel. We don’t want to be late.”

Cas wondered if there was a law against throwing a bowl of oil at a Dominator’s head. His voice sounded more like a growl, when he answered in English so Dean could understand him, “Give me a few minutes to change. I’ll meet you outside.”

Barachiel took his leave and Cas shot Dean another apologetic look. “I have some good news for you. First, there will be plenty of food at the event we are attending, so much so that you will be allowed to eat with me. Shax is known for being more open and kind towards slaves at celebrations. The second thing is: I had a house slave get me another chain for you. It should be much more comfortable, because it doesn’t weigh as much as the iron chain.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “And here I thought you were gonna propose.” He stood up and walked to where he’d thrown his tunic.

Cas smiled. “Not as long as we’re here.”

Dean quirked a brow after shrugging the garment back on. “Don’t worry, Cas. You don’t need to buy the cow, you already get the milk for free.”

Cas fastened the buckles of his armor, contemplating Dean’s words. “What if I still want to buy the cow?”

“Slow your roll, cowboy. We’ve only been official for ten minutes.” He chuckled good naturedly, but there was hesitance in his tone.

“Great ten minutes though,“ Cas teased as he attached his blade to the armor. “Could have been even better if we hadn’t been disturbed.”

Dean approached him then, grasping the sheath and straightening it. He looked up, hands still at his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Maybe I’ll be naughty later and you’ll have to punish me…” He winked.

Cas tilted his head. “I somehow doubt you would perceive the things I would do to you as a punishment.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Always, Dean.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas hadn’t been joking when he said the new chain was lighter and more comfortable, it was almost like he wasn’t being led into a grandiose ballroom by a chain at all. Dean kept stealing glances upward at Cas’s back as they made their way through the District to Shax’s home. It was almost surreal, being weirdly pleased and happy despite the incredibly humiliating disposition he found himself in.

He hadn’t meant to be so honest with Cas, about his wanting them to continue their relationship outside of the realm of Limbo. Pretty much asking the guy to be his boyfriend, as damn awkward as it was. The only thing that mattered was Cas said yes. There was still this niggling of doubt, maybe Cas didn’t realize what he was saying and was overwhelmed with the emotions that struck him so profoundly on this plane; maybe he’d tell Dean he changed his mind when they finally returned to Earth.

It didn’t matter, he was happy to enjoy every moment he could. It wasn’t often that a person got to actually date the person they were in love with. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Dean Winchester was more than happy to finally give it a try. Give the feelings and person, he had confessed to wanting to experience for the first time all those years ago to that Catholic priest, a try.

The ballroom was pretty magnificent, large and long tables laid out perpendicular to each other in a large rectangle, covered with every kind of food and drink one could imagine. There were dozens of angels and their slaves, all immersed in conversation and appetition. It was unlike any of the events they’d attended in Limbo thus far. No large cushions for sexual exploits, just quaint velvet lined furniture for more secluded conversation.

Drapes of bright blue were drawn open, revealing one enormous bayview window with a view of the mountains as the sun was setting. There was a string quartet in one of the corners of the room, playing softly to give more of an air of privacy for the conversations being had. Slaves were speaking with other slaves freely, while their masters conducted their own conversations. It was far more lax.

Dean was surprised when Cas unhooked his chain before handing it to a house slave to put away. That was the weirdest coat check he’d ever seen. The angel gave him a poignant look and small smile, before nodding to Dean to go help himself to food. Cas departed him to approach another angel and greeted her in Enochian.

He saw Kristoff talking with Sable and a couple of slaves he didn’t recognize, so he approached them after grabbing a plate and piling on food that looked like makeshift cheeseburgers. Hopefully they tasted that way. He’d kill for a bacon cheeseburger right about now.

Kristoff smiled at him as he walked up and addressed him, but it was in Enochian and all he caught was the word, ‘impressive’.

Dean tilted his head, why was he addressing him in Enochian? “Sorry, man. I’m not versed in the language.”

Sable and the two other slaves regarded him in curiosity, before she amended for Kristoff, “He was merely commenting on your commitment to the district’s notoriety.”

He looked at Kristoff and asked, “You callin’ me a pig, dude?”

The sandy haired slave laughed and shrugged. “If the snout fits…”

Dean rolled his eyes and proceeded to focus on his food. The other slaves continued their conversation in Enochian, meaning he was only able to catch every few words. When he caught Sable saying Cas’s name, he put his plate down. “Why are you talking about my Geiad?”

She quirked her brow at him, seemingly unimpressed with his interruption. “Your master is the topic of a lot of conversations. His presence has a lot of our Geiads on their toes.”

Interesting. He totally caught her slip up, but no one else in their presence seemed to. There was something off about Sable, Dean couldn’t put his finger on it, but he wondered if he could prompt something else to slip. “He’s a powerful commander, it comes with the job description. What about your master? What’s her deal?”

“Her deal is none of your concern, Quasahi,” she spat.

Back to that, huh? Might as well use his leverage. “A Quasahi who’s Geiad outranks yours, so is it wise to be such a bitch?”

Sable was taken aback. Kristoff was chuckling into his hand, the other two slaves watched their exchange in fascination.

She composed herself. “Interesting choice of words, Quasahi.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at her and then sighed. He needed to try and get intel and calling people names wasn’t the way to do it. “Look, I’m sorry. There was no need to call you that. Start over? Hi, I’m Dean…” He held his hand out for her to shake.

Sable stared at the hand for several moments, she lifted her gaze and said in a suspicious sounding tone, “Inter-sex touching is illegal...”

Shit. Dean kept fucking up. He retracted his hand, glancing around to make sure no one else caught that bonehead move. Stupid slave realm and its stupid rules. “Uh, yeah. I forgot…”

The four other slaves stared at him, seemingly unsure of what to make of him. Kristoff broke the awkward tension by clapping a jovial hand on his shoulder. “Never fear, she is as fierce and domineering as a man, I’m sure I would have forgotten her sex, too.”

Sable pursed her lips at him. “Don’t be dismayed that I’m more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

Dean decided to try to steer their conversation in a different direction, before an all out gender war broke out in the middle of a damn party. “So, what’s the deal with that slave trader getting ganked? Did he have a lot of enemies?”

The other two slaves appeared genuinely confused; Kristoff quirked an amused brow; but it was Sable’s reaction that was the most interesting. Her eyes widened momentarily, almost a look of guilt, before she schooled her features back to that of disdain.

Interesting. He prodded further and said, “I mean, I caught a glimpse of it, it was a pretty brutal murder, whoever did it must have really hated the guy. And is it just that easy for another angel to take all of the slaves of a deceased owner?” Dean turned to Kristoff and asked, “I mean, it’s legal for your Geiad to just take them like that?”

Kristoff nodded then. “Yes, whomever lays claim to the souls first after a master dies legally owns them.”

Sable hissed something in Enochian at the shorter slave and nodded her head, urging him to follow her to one of the more private seating areas.

Very interesting.

…. :::: :::: ….

Shax was probably the only angel Cas had a soft spot for. The Dominator of Gula was open and friendly with everybody, he loved to eat and to laugh, never once had he heard him speak ill about anyone.

He was also the most popular Dominator in the city, not because he was powerful, but because he didn’t have any agenda nor did he participate in the games of political scheming. He was well liked and respected by everyone, even when most angels didn’t like the openly friendly way he treated his slaves.

Cas tried to relax, when he wasn’t alone with Dean he constantly felt tense, but with Shax talking to him about fruits and chocolate, even making funny Enochian jokes, he slowly started to feel his calming effect.

More than once, his gaze fell to Dean, watching how the man was enjoying the food, talking to other slaves. He still couldn’t believe that they were... a couple now.

Humans had a lot of rules about these things. Like going on dates. Dean hadn’t told him that he loved him and Cas wasn’t sure if he should confess his feelings or if it was custom to wait. It was all very confusing.

It was especially difficult not to interpret Dean’s gesture for what it was. A slave at school had probably just told him it was a gesture for lovers, it wasn’t likely many slaves knew the true meaning. The promise of the Allar, a bond that was formed for eternity.

A shadow fell over his face when Buer stepped in front of him, her arms crossed. Cas rolled his eyes at her angry demeanor and scrubbed his hand over his face. The calm from before had left his body.

“So, you told Zagan that I had something to do with Solas’s murder?” she asked without greeting him.

Shax raised his hands. “My Lady, please. I don’t like such gruesome talk at my celebrations.”

“And yet you invited him, someone famous for such violent acts,” Buer commented in a snarky tone.

Cas raised an eyebrow. “So, obviously, you know me well.”

Buer squinted her eyes at him. “No, I only know the stories. You are a mystery. And I don’t like mysteries.”

“I’m an open book, you just have to ask.” Cas smiled and leaned back against the cushion, eating some grapes.

“Why are you here?” Buer asked directly.

“Business on behalf of Heaven,” Cas answered casually, eating another grape.

“And that business included slaughtering Asmodeus?” Buer asked as Shax gasped, shaking his head in light annoyance.

“He upset the balance. Are you saying you approve of the way he treated human souls, or the way he smuggled them into his part of the city to gain more power and more victims to satisfy his perverted desires?” Cas asked with a quirked eyebrow.

Buer seemed taken aback by his statement, her eyes suddenly turned cold. “I only felt disdain for him, but when I look at you… I see the same monster.”

…. :::: :::: ….

He hadn’t anticipated that Barachiel would give them this bedroom.

Coming back to Asmodeus’s house had been more difficult than he had anticipated. But Cas kept telling himself, over and over again, that the angel was dead. That he had killed him and Dean was with him now. Dean was safe.

The hallways made him a bit antsy, but he seemed to have it under control.

But following the house slave to the bedroom... It felt like the hallway was closing in on him, his chest felt constricted, it was hard to breathe. He had to force himself to walk, every step was a conscious decision to soldier through. Not letting anyone see how it was affecting him.

The door closed behind them and the house slave was gone. Dean had walked into the room, getting himself ready for bed. But Cas couldn’t move.

Suddenly he saw the blood again. The floor was drenched with it. The sheets painted with red.

He saw the slave chained to the bed, being whipped, blood flowing from his wounds like a river. Asmodeus kneeling, naked on the bed, smiling up at him as he licked the slave’s blood from his fingers.

Cas stumbled, his back against the cold metal door as he slowly sank to the floor. He tried to close his eyes to shake the images off, but they persisted even in the darkness. He choked on the air that suddenly seemed to be as thick as the blood he could see all around him.

He heard something, it sounded like Dean, but it was far away and muffled, like he was talking underwater. Cas shook his head, unable to focus, unable to understand. Suddenly he felt pressure on his face, his glossy eyes slowly coming into focus. Dean was there, shaking him, even though he couldn’t feel it, only see it.

“Cas!” That came in clearer, but he found he was unable to respond. The hunter chanted his name again and again, each time his tone growing more desperate. Finally the fugue was shattered by a cracked and frantic, “La Monon!”

Cas blinked, the images vanished and he took in a shattered, deep breath. “Dean…”

He looked up at him, seeing his friend kneeling next to him, repeating his name, desperate and worried. Cas reached up and cupped Dean’s cheek, trying to focus on his eyes. “I can’t stay here.”

Dean nodded. “I’ll grab one of the slaves, we’ll get another room. Will you be okay if I leave for a minute?”

“No, no, no… Don’t leave me here, Dean. Don’t,” he pleaded as he grabbed Dean’s wrist hard, probably too hard going by the man’s hiss of pain.

He shook his head. “I’m here, I’m right here. Can you stand? We’ll leave together.”

Cas nodded slowly, he kept his eyes on Dean. If he just focused on him and never looked back, he could make it through. He trusted Dean. His friend was strong and he knew he would have his back. He let himself get pulled out of the room, hearing how the door shut behind them.

Everything was good. He inhaled deeply. Everything was good.

“I’m okay, now. We just need another room.”

Dean nodded, he kept his hold on Cas’s arm as he turned and barked at a house slave who had been walking by, “My Geiad is displeased with the room, we need new accommodations.”

Cas was grateful that Dean took everything in his hand. His mind and chest felt empty suddenly, paralyzed. He just focused on Dean, knowing the hunter would get him somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

He felt himself being pulled again as the house slave escorted them to another room. Dean ushered the slave out quickly and walked him to the bed. In a daze, he barely registered that the hunter was undressing him.

“Can you lie down on your stomach, Cas?”

Cas didn’t think about it, he just did what Dean told him. The meaning didn’t even register. He closed his eyes as soon as he felt Dean’s hands in his wings.

The last thing he heard before blissful sleep overtook his consciousness was Dean’s soft voice saying, “I’ve got you…”

Chapter Text

Dean awoke the next morning, a little out of it. He’d spent the evening massaging Cas’s wings long after the angel had already fallen asleep. He needed to do something with his hands. Seeing him react like that had shaken him to his core. Whatever had happened in that room caused Cas to go into some sort of panic attack. Dean didn’t even know angels could have panic attacks.

Once consciousness set in, he turned to look at the angel, his angel. He could say that now. It was a little crazy, but a good kind of crazy. Cas was completely relaxed, lying half on his stomach, causing one of his wings to act as a makeshift blanket. Dean realized in that moment, the only thing he was going to miss from this plane was being able to see and touch his friend’s wings.

Dean rolled full on his side to face Cas, reaching out to gently caress the angel’s face. Dean Winchester was in love and for once that thought didn’t feel like an ominous, potentially life ruining thing. The realization that maybe, just maybe, he could be happy, was weirdly liberating.

He could kiss Cas, not for comfort, not for show, but actually kiss the angel because he could. So he did.

After a few minutes of kissing Cas’s lips and face, the angel finally stirred. When he blinked his eyes open, a soft bemused expression on his face, Dean smiled. “Mornin’.”

“Hello, Dean.” A soft smile found its way to his lips.

Dean’s eyes flickered over Cas’s face. “Are you doing okay?”

Cas squinted his eyes for a moment. “I’m fine, Dean.”

“I call bullshit on that, but if you don’t wanna talk about it, I won’t make you.”

“Thanks.” Cas rubbed his hand over his face, before he blinked at the morning sunlight. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

“We’re together now, I’m pretty sure it’s a law or something for me to worry about you.” He smiled. Not just because he was happy, but because he could say that out loud.

Cas smiled for a moment before he pulled Dean over and kissed his forehead. “I’m okay, Dean. But I will be better once we can go home.”

“Speaking of which, I found out something pretty interesting. I don’t know what, exactly, but Sable and Kristoff know something about the death of Solas…”

For a moment Cas looked confused. “Who are they?”

Dean shook his head, of course Cas wouldn’t know slaves by their names. No slave was supposed to use their name. “Camael’s and that other lady angel, the one who disappeared when Solas got ganked; they’re their slaves.”

Cas frowned. “What did you hear?”

“It wasn’t so much what I heard, they mostly spoke in Enochian, it was the way they behaved. When I brought it up, Sable got weird about it when Kristoff told me that whoever lays claim to the slaves of a dead angel basically gets dibs. They know something, now I’ve just got to figure a way to get them to tell me...”

“Do you think you could get Kristoff to talk? I will spend a lot of time with Camael today so maybe you could try to get something out of him. Forget the other one, I want to be as far away as possible from Buer. I suspect she has something to do with Solas’s death and I don’t know… she doesn’t seem to be scared of me, like the other angels are. I’ve already drawn too much attention to myself. More would just get in the way of finding Sam.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, Sable doesn’t trust you, I doubt I could get any info from her even if I tried. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask, why aren’t we allowed to touch other genders? I tried to shake Sable’s hand and she looked at me like I’d grown three heads or something.”

Cas gave him an apologetic look. “I should have told you earlier. I’m sorry that I forgot to mention it. You’ve probably noticed that every Geiad has a Quasahi of the same sex. It’s against the law to have sexual intercourse with someone of the opposite gender in order to prevent possible offspring being created. It’s also used as a means of precaution to prevent the slaves or the angels from developing an attachment. While that isn’t illegal, it’s deeply frowned upon.”

That made sense, the last thing they needed was a bunch of Nephilim running around, it would probably upset the status quo. The attachment thing, though. That could be potentially problematic for them. “So, this...” Dean indicated to himself and then Cas. “What would happen if they presumed we were more than just, Geiad and Quasahi?”

“The Quasahi is sent away to be punished and is not returned to his Geiad. It’s considered a weakness for an angel to love a human.”

Well, good thing Cas wasn’t in love with him, but… “What if the Quasahi loves their Geiad?”

Cas just looked at him for a moment, before he shook his head. “I don’t know, Dean. I can’t imagine a Quasahi would fall in love with an angel. Why would any of them have feelings for them? They are monsters.”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, Arnold seemed pretty attached to Solas. And not all angels are monsters…” He added quietly, giving Cas a poignant look.

A look Cas seemed to ignore if his expression was anything to go by. He looked away from Dean and did something that looked like a half shrug. “If I would have to guess, I would say it would be ignored. No one really cares how Quasahi feel on this plane.”

Dean really shouldn’t have been surprised by that, but he did have to refrain from letting out a sigh of relief. He moved to sit up, a move to relieve the tension in his neck from the collar weighing him down in the awkward position of being laid out on the bed, head slightly tilted. He sat cross-legged and refocused his attention back on Cas. “So, what’s the plan today? If I’m supposed to be getting intel from Kristoff, are you going to work on Camael? It’s logical to assume that whatever Kristoff knows is probably what he’s gotten from his master, right?”

Cas looked thoughtful for a minute before he finally said, “It is, and that worries me. I didn’t think Camael would keep information from me regarding the slaves… I just don’t want to get us sidetracked. This may have to do with the political changes around the city and it might be very dangerous to poke around that topic. My only interest is to find Sam and I’ll try to focus on finding him. I need Camael for that because he has a lot of useful connections.”

Cas turned around to face Dean, touching his arm. “Be extra careful around his slave. And don’t trust anyone, Dean.” He let his fingers slide up his arm to his shoulder, tilting his head as looked him over. “Does your neck hurt?”

Dean chuckled, stupid cute angels and being all concerned. “It’s alright, Cas. I’m pretty sure this pain won’t go away until I get to take this damn thing off.”

Cas suddenly kissed him. It was just a soft, brief kiss while he laid his hand on his neck and did his mojo thing, taking the stiffness in his muscles away. “Better?”

Dean leaned in for another kiss, before he pulled back and smiled. “Much.” As Dean’s eyes raked over the beautiful angel in front of him, he felt his heart skip a beat. Damn. He was so far gone, if their relationship didn’t make the long haul, he knew then, in that moment, he’d never recover. Cas was it for him.

When the angel smiled at him, and after being so scared for his friend the night before, Dean needed some closeness. He needed to get lost in their moment together, before the reality of the day engulfed them. Dean got up from the bed and at the quizzical look Cas gave him, he simply smiled and held out his hand.

When the angel took it, he pulled him towards the dresser, hopping up on it, before pulling Cas close. At the still confused look, he smirked. “Wanted to try something different,” was all he offered in explanation before yanking Cas forward, lips colliding and getting lost in the want and need that was persistently overwhelming him.

The angel let out a soft growl that went right to Dean’s cock, twitching upward in excitement. He loved the sounds Cas made. When the angel rutted against him, their cocks rubbing together, Dean moaned. He pulled away, a little breathless. “I seem to recall someone saying he wanted to prepare me himself?” A teasing tone that was laced with desire.

For a moment Cas just stared at him, out of breath, followed by an enthusiastic nod and a flick of his wrist to mojo the vial of oil into his hand. Damn, that was going to come in really handy when they got back to Earth...

Dean adjusted himself, scooting his ass to the edge of the dresser to give the angel better access. Cas stared at him for a few moments, an unrecognizable expression on his face before he pulled the cork out of the bottle and coated his fingers in the oil. He pressed against Dean then, drawing him into another kiss, one of tenderness and longing. It was so distracting, he wasn’t even slightly prepared for the sensation of Cas’s digit probing at his entrance.

He moaned into the kiss as the angel teased his rim, fluttery touches that was making Dean go a little crazy. When he slipped the digit in, Dean gasped. The slave at the school had been right, the more regularly he stretched himself, the easier prepping would become. It didn’t take long for Cas to slip a second digit in, then a third; but he seemed to be taking his time. The guy hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted to tease him until he begged.

Well, he was playing a slave afterall. As Cas began trailing kisses down his chest, Dean whispered, “Please…”

An uncharacteristic smirk was on the angel’s face. Dean liked it. Cas began to slowly pump Dean’s cock with his other hand. “‘Please’ what?”

The combination of the two sensations was slowly pushing him to the edge, he breathed out a broken, “Please fuck me.”

Dean let out a soft whine when Cas pulled his fingers out, already missing the delicious pressure of being filled. The angel coated his cock with the oil and pressed the head to Dean’s hole. As he slowly slid inside, Dean grasped the edge of the dresser, knuckles white from his grip. He’d almost forgotten just how big Cas was.

Sheathed to the hilt, Cas met his lips in a desperate kiss, still unmoving, likely allowing Dean time to adjust. He moved one of his hands to the angel’s hair and gripped to pull him back. “If you don’t start fucking me soon, I’m gonna–”

His threat was cut off by the feeling of Cas slowly pulling almost all the way out, just to slam himself back in, striking his prostate. Dean moaned, sparks of white flashing in front of his closed eyelids. It should be illegal for sex to feel so fucking good. The angel began a brutally slow, drawn out, yet hard pace. Teasing Dean to the point of incoherence.

As his pace slowly began to build and quicken, Cas gripped Dean’s cock to stroke in time with his thrusts. Dean wasn’t going to last, between the heat of Cas’s palm and the barrage of strikes against his prostate, he was going to lose it. As his angel’s breathing became more ragged he realized that Cas wasn’t going to last either.

Dean pressed his lips to Cas’s lobe and gently sucked it into his mouth, placing teasing bites on the soft cartilage. He licked a trail along the shell of his lover’s ear before whispering, “Come in me.”

Blue eyes almost completely blacked out with dilation, utter immovable lust. Cas’s thrusting became frantic then, stroking Dean faster as he cried out. Within a minute, Dean was tumbling down the rabbit hole of ecstasy with him, enjoying every damn moment as he felt the pulsing of Cas’s orgasm coat his insides.

As they clung to each other, having not moved from their position, Dean whispered, “Can you mojo the plug over here?”

Cas seemed a little bemused, but did as he asked. When the angel finally pulled out, Dean slipped the plug in quickly, preventing his lover’s come from dripping out. Met with a hooded gaze, Dean smirked. “Just in case…”

…. :::: :::: ….

The only good thing that came from moving to Asmodeus’s villa was that they didn’t have to go far to reach Camael’s new residence in Gula. The angel had promised to show him every slave Solas had bought recently, even the ones that probably didn’t appear in the books. Cas knew he had to tread carefully around Camael. If Dean’s assumption about Kristoff was right, Camael might be involved in the secret slave trading conspiracy and Cas might have poked a hornet’s nest with his search for Sam. He hoped he wouldn’t regret having told Camael that he was on the lookout for someone specific. That this soul was valuable. It would make his search easier, but it could also mean a great deal of trouble if Camael decided to betray him.

His instincts told him that he could trust the angel, but trusting the wrong angel had led him to make grave mistakes in the past. He learned from that mistake. He would be careful this time. The only ones he could trust were Dean and Sam.

He tried to not let his thoughts stray to Dean and concentrate on the conversation he was presently having with Camael, as the angel led them down to the cells where all of the slaves Solas had acquired illegally were housed. But it was difficult. Dean’s and his relationship had shifted and everything was new and exciting. He couldn’t wait to walk this new path with Dean. For the first time he felt happiness in his life.

“... so I hope the one you’re looking for is among those slaves.”

Cas nodded, feeling ashamed that he hadn’t listened to Camael’s speech the whole time. He needed to focus on the mission.

“Camael, I consider us to be friends… You know something about the things that are going on. You know why Solas was killed, don’t you?” He asked carefully, trying to gauge Camael’s reaction to his words. The other angel looked worried, but not unkind towards him.

They stopped walking and Camael laid his hand on Cas’s shoulder. “I consider you a friend as well, Castiel. I know you’re righteous in your heart and how much you’re willing to sacrifice to keep Earth safe from malignant forces. But this plane isn’t your responsibility. I’ll help you find the lost soul, but then you should leave this place until things have settled. For your own sake, you should stop asking questions about this.”

“You’re not in any danger, are you?” Cas asked with a serious tone in his voice.

Camael gave him a soft smile. “Your concern honors me, but it’s unnecessary.”

Cas looked at him for a moment, trying to figure out if Camael had told him the truth. He knew in his heart it was better not to meddle with the state of affairs of this realm. He already had caused a massive shift in the distribution of power when he killed Asmodeus. Something, he was sure, would have consequences in the near future.

It shouldn’t be of his concern. The only important thing was to get Sam back safely and to leave this place.

“I hope you’re right, my friend,” Cas murmured as Camael continued his path down the hallway. “But I still hope you will tell me if you need my help.”

Camael smiled. “I’m not fighting a war, Castiel. I’m a mere chess piece, trying to clear the field to regain balance on the board.”

Castiel nodded as they reached the cells. “What will happen to those souls? The ones that don’t belong here?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll go back to where they belong. You have my word.”

Cas recognized the look on Camael’s face from his own. The fine traces of a profound sadness when their gaze wandered over the souls in the cell. Cas believed him.

His heart felt heavier every second  he didn’t see Sam amongst the slaves. At the last cell, he realized that his search wasn’t over. Cas looked up at Camael with a sad shake of his head.

At least those souls wouldn’t suffer on this plane for much longer.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean had to refrain from yanking at the chain attached to the wall hook. The more time they spent on this plane, the more agitated he became. They had already been in this godforsaken realm for over a week, and they were no closer to finding Sam. The only upside to all of the bullshit was the shift in his and Cas’s relationship. And even that was tainted by the constant underlying fear that maybe, just maybe, none of it was actually real. That the angel was succumbing to his emotions because they were harder to control in Limbo.

Dean shook his head and took in his surroundings. Camael’s living parlor was simple, soft whites and golds in a beautiful mosaic design decorating the walls, cream colored furniture, and elaborate candelabras. When Kristoff entered the parlor, he greeted the slave with a genuine smile. “How are you, Kris?”

The younger man smirked. “Never better, Dean-o.” Kristoff moved to sit on the ottoman near Dean. “Your Geiad is pretty determined to find a specific type of Venqod, isn’t he?”

He quirked his brow. That was an interesting way to steer the conversation. Dean nodded. “He is, he has specific needs that he’d prefer I not exhaust myself with.” Kristoff knew damn well what Dean’s role was in Cas’s pretend slave owning life. “Do you think your Geiad will be successful in finding one that meets the criteria?”

A thoughtful hum and pursing of the lips was the initial response he got, before the younger man tilted his head in thought. “He’s not failed, yet.” Before Dean could comment, Kristoff continued, “How long have you been with your Geiad?”

That took him aback. “Why?”

“Just curious, you seem really comfortable with him, but your behavior implies a sort of newness to being a Quasahi…”

While he could appreciate the blatant honesty, Dean was unsure how to approach the question. He didn’t want to compromise his or Cas’s position in Limbo, but clearly he was fucking up epically in proper procedure. “I’ve been with him for eight years, but you’re right, I’m kind of new to this. I only recently became his Quasahi.” The best lies were always steeped in truth, he just hoped that was a good enough answer.

Kristoff nodded. “How long ago did his last Quasahi die?”

Dean shook his head, clearly confused. “Huh?”

“Your Geiad’s last Quasahi? You were recently promoted, I’m just curious how recently…”

Damn, he was really getting sick of all of the weird rules and procedures of this realm. “About a month ago?” 

“I see…” The younger man’s tone was amused and slightly skeptical.

Dean was going to have to have a lengthy conversation with Cas later. Dude didn’t debrief him enough at all, although, in his boyfriend’s defense they hadn’t planned on staying in Limbo this long. Huh. Boyfriend. That was equally weird and awesome. He shook his head from his brief sweep of happiness to try and deflect the awkward conversation. “So, how long have you and your Geiad…”

Kristoff laughed. “Much longer than a month, I can assure you.”

“Come on, dude. I’m just interested in the lengths of time these things tend to go.”

He quirked his mouth upwards before finally answering, “Maybe a century or so?”

Whoa. He should have figured in a plane of existence that lasts for eternity, that literal eternities of servitude would have to be part of the package. Dean let out a low whistle. “That’s a long freakin’ time for nothin’...”

“What do you mean?” Kristoff asked, sounding genuinely curious instead of his usual amused.

“You know, the fact that you guys will basically never get to heav–” Dean clapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say that. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Damnit, he was the worst Venqod in the history of the universe.

Kristoff narrowed his eyes and stood to approach Dean. “What are you talking about?”

Thankfully, they were interrupted and forced to bow and fall to their knees when both of their Geiads walked in. Fuck. Cas was gonna be pissed when he found out just how badly he fucked up.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas unchained Dean with a heavy heart, giving him a short shake of his head to tell him that he hadn’t found Sam, although the hunter had probably already guessed that.

“We should meet tonight, Castiel. I may have more information by then,” Camael told him when they said their goodbyes. Cas nodded and thanked the other angel before he left the villa at a slow pace.

He couldn’t wait to be alone with Dean, having him walking right behind him, and not being able to turn around and just talk to him, felt ridiculous.

At least the way back wouldn’t be that long and the heat was still bearable. He hoped that the lighter chain was helping Dean to get through these walks with a lot less pain.

The streets around him were busy and loud, a lot of angels and slaves were running around, talking or haggling over goods. But something felt off. It was an instinct, a feeling that prickled the back of his neck and, somehow, he sensed that Dean could feel it, too.

He heard Dean’s footsteps change, the shift of his weight on the ground, like he was expecting an attack. It reminded him of their times in Purgatory when they had fought back to back, learning every movement from the other one in a silent method of communication. At times it had felt like Dean had become an extension of his own body and he was sure Dean felt the same way. Their bond of trust had been so strong then, even when Cas had done everything to deny its implications and what that meant for their friendship. It felt like he had betrayed Dean all over again when he decided to stay in Purgatory.

Cas glanced backwards just in time to espy the familiar shape of angel wings. He couldn’t suppress an eye roll as he realized who was trailing them. How inconvenient.

The last thing they needed right now was to have an overeager Zirorela following them. Zagan already hated him and assumed he had something to do with Solas’s death. If he wouldn’t let that go, he might uncover Cas’s true reasons for coming here, and that was something they couldn’t risk.

Cas thought of his options and decided that he was done playing nice. Zagan needed to back off, and asking nicely obviously hadn’t worked. Change of tactic then.

He led Dean down a narrow street, a path that was empty and eerily quiet even though it wasn’t far off of the main road. Cas walked around the corner, deeper down the street until he reached an empty and shabby courtyard. It was perfectly secluded.

He grabbed Dean’s hand and pushed him against the wall, kissing his ear. “Just play along.”

Dean snaked his hand into his hair, gripping gently as his other hand grasped onto Cas’s bicep. He let out an indecent moan, louder than necessary. The hunter had clearly gotten the message.

Cas’s hands slipped under Dean’s tunic and pushed it up slightly, before he spread out his wings and looked up to the sloped roof above them. “Get on your knees, Quasahi. I want your lips on my cock.”

Dean made eye contact with Cas, a silent nod confirmed they were on the same page. He was again grateful for this easy ability between them. The hunter dropped to his knees as instructed, before he lifted his own hand and began to make purposely loud sucking noises against his thumb. He smirked at Cas.

Cas returned the grin when he flexed muscles to make a quiet jump to the roof. It was just one beat of his wings, a silent swoosh of air that was swallowed by Dean’s sinful noises. He carefully peeked over the edge of the roof, seeing Zagan pressed against the wall around the corner, obviously buying the lie.

The other angel wasn’t prepared when Cas jumped him from above and shoved him to the ground, before he grabbed him at his neck and pulled him into the courtyard around the corner. He knelt on the angel’s chest to keep him from getting up. “I wasn’t aware you were so interested in my sex life, Zagan.”

The angel huffed out a short laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember...”

Cas pushed his weight down on Zagan’s chest to keep him from speaking. “I have told you to back off in a very nice way and you didn’t get the message. I wonder what I should do with you...”

“Don’t threaten me–”

Zagan cried out in pain, as Cas pushed his knee down on him again. “Or what? You are not in a position to make any threats. You only have two options here: you can either heed my friendly warning and find the killer elsewhere, or I will have to talk to a few of my friends about your incompetence and you’ll be searching for a new occupation within the week.”

Zagan glared at him and Cas knew the angel had understood the message. Cas sighed. “I know you don’t like me, but I’m doing you a favor here. Stop following me, I’m not the one you’re looking for. You know I have other ways.”

Cas slowly stood up and held his hand down to Zagan to help him up. The other angel just gave him a dirty look and stood up without his help. “I hope your visit will be over soon, Commander. ”

He had sneered Cas’s title as a final act of defiance, but Cas decided to let it go. He knew Zagan was trying to keep up appearances as an authoritative figure of the law, but he also knew that the angel was aware that he had been beaten.

“You may not believe me, but I’ll be glad when my visit is over, too. You may go now,” Cas said with a nod that earned him another glare. When Zagan left the street and was out of earshot Cas gave Dean a quick smirk. “It’s a pity we got so rudely interrupted, don’t you think?”

Instead of responding, the hunter slammed him against the wall and started kissing him. The sort of desperate kiss that takes your breath away. When Dean drew back slightly, his forehead pressed against Cas’s, he whispered, “You are so fucking hot.”

Cas was surprised by Dean’s intense reaction. He wondered what had triggered it, but he also enjoyed Dean’s compliment immensely. “Do you want to go back to our room and spend some time with me before we need to come back to this area of town?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

Cas tilted his head. “Who?”

Dean laughed. “The answer is yes. Please take me back to our room, Cas.” He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

A chaste kiss that quickly evolved into more when Cas was overwhelmed with need, as though he wouldn’t be able to stop kissing Dean. He flipped their positions, pressing Dean against the wall, deepening the kiss while his hands roamed over the hunter’s body.

His fingers found their way under Dean’s tunic, to his ass, kneading the firm cheeks in his hand. “Dean…” He knew he sounded desperate, he needed Dean now. He had restrained himself with Zagan, he knew that he couldn’t go too far with him. But the thrill of having so much power over the other angel, being completely at his mercy, had felt exhilarating.

Cas was beginning to lose control. He needed to do something, anything; and Dean was so beautifully pliant under his fingers. He quickly opened the buckles of his pants to free his painfully hard erection. He wasn’t going to be able to wait until they were in their room. He needed to fuck Dean now, to claim him.

Cas reached up to Dean’s throat and wrapped his fingers around the collar to hold him against the wall when he shoved his tunic up to reveal his erection. Cas pressed his body against him, slipping his hand between his legs to play with his rim. “Dean… I…”

For a moment Cas was afraid Dean would say no to him if he asked. He knew he couldn’t stop now. Memories of their encounter in the morning flooded his mind and how Dean had used the plug to keep Cas’s come inside of him. Dean was prepared to take him, whenever Cas wanted to.

He growled against Dean’s neck, enjoying the soft pants and moans it was eliciting as he sucked a mark into the hunter’s collarbone. Cas was starting to tremble, if he didn’t get lost in the heat of his lover soon, he wasn’t sure what might happen, how badly he might lose control. At Dean’s gentle nod, he turned the man around, pressing him up against the wall, tugging the plug out of his hole with a satisfying wet pop.

Cas placed his fingers at Dean’s entrance, letting the come drip onto his digits. He stroked himself with his own semen as makeshift lubrication, coating his aching cock. Dean whimpered against him as he felt the head of his cock press against his rim.

“Cas,” Dean cried his name like a plea, like a prayer.

Cas gripped Dean’s hips and pushed into him without hesitation. He wanted to give Dean time to adjust, but he couldn't stop himself as he immediately started to fuck into the heat he needed so desperately. It was rough and hard and he knew he would leave bruises on Dean’s hips.

Although he couldn’t hold himself back, fucking the man at a brutal pace, Dean took everything so openly, moaning in pleasure every time he thrust into him, up to the hilt. He was so beautiful, so perfectly obedient. Dean was his. And he wanted to mark him in all the ways possible.

Cas laid one of his hands on Dean's back and pushed him forward so he could get a good look at his ass, watching in lust-filled awe as his cock fucked into him. Cas gripped Dean’s cheeks and spread them to get a better look.

He nearly came from that view alone.

Cas groaned and pulled Dean up again, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other on the hunter's stomach to keep him in place. He licked at Dean's throat, before he let his teeth scrape over Dean's shoulder blade. He wanted to bite down, break the skin and lick at the blood.

Cas bit on his own lip, so hard that the pain was able to anchor him, thankfully keeping him from hurting Dean. The coppery taste of his own blood on his tongue seemed to calm his animalistic instincts, at least for the moment. He slid one hand down to Dean's cock, gathering the wetness at the tip on his fingers, before he pressed those fingers into Dean's mouth.

Dean sucked them greedily and Cas had a hard time deciding where he wanted to come. He wanted to fill Dean's ass, but he also wanted to come in his mouth. He wanted to see his come everywhere on Dean's body.

He pulled his cock out of Dean for a moment just to thrust into him again at full force. Dean gasped, his hole clenching around Cas's cock as he came with a loud moan. Cas slid a finger through the come dripping from Dean's cock and licked it from his digit with a moan. “You taste so good…”

Dean moaned as Cas gripped his hips again and fucked him fast and hard. He felt his orgasm building up and he groaned loudly when the release finally overwhelmed him in a wave of pure pleasure and ecstasy. He pulled his cock out of Dean, watching the last pulses of wet, hot come coating Dean’s ass as he rubbed his erection against his rim.

It felt like an eternity until he could think clearly again. One hand still holding Dean in place as he felt his friend shivering slightly from the, probably exhausting, stance. Cas paled when he realized how much he had lost control over his emotions. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Dean. Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

As he caught his breath, the hunter moved to turn back around and face Cas, he shook his head. “You, uh… Shit, Cas… You don't have to apologize for fucking my brains out.” Dean drew Cas to his lips, a gentle press before pulling back with a smile. “And besides, plus side of an angel boyfriend? If you did accidentally hurt me, then you can heal me…”

“Dean… I lost control there for a moment… and just because I have the ability to heal you doesn't mean you should endanger yourself by being around me when that happens. I don't want to hurt you.”

Although Dean seemed to be okay with how Cas had behaved, this could have gone wrong and Cas was afraid that he would ruin everything between them with his emotional instability. “I don’t want to lose you because of this.”

Dean shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. He reached out to cup Cas’s cheek. “Hate to break it to ya’, Angel. You’re stuck with me.”

Cas returned his smile, still feeling insecure, but also profoundly happy over Dean’s words that, for a moment, he was speechless. He placed a tender kiss on Dean’s lips. “I’ve never known what happiness felt like… It's…“ He looked up at Dean with a shy smile. “Overwhelming and a bit scary…”

“You’re gettin’ mushy on me. Might have to revoke your badass card for that.” Dean’s eyes twinkled with affection, his lips curved up in a half smirk. But Cas could feel the happiness emanating from Dean’s aura, it was powerful.

Cas kissed him again before he wondered out loud, “Is this what you call a chick flick moment?”

Dean laughed outright. “I'd say yes if we hadn't reenacted a scene from Caligula a few minutes ago.”

Cas felt exhausted, his thoughts and emotions were contradicting each other. On one hand he felt ashamed and afraid of his loss of control, on the other hand he had liked how Dean had reacted to it, how accepting he still was. And how happy he felt by Dean’s reassurance, that he would stay with him. It was too much and he was slowly starting to lose the ability to differentiate between right and wrong. He took a deep breath and squinted his eyes at Dean. “We should head back. You must be hungry by now.”

Dean gently gripped Cas's shoulder. “I am, but you seem kind of out of it. Are you okay?”

Cas contemplated telling him he was fine, but he knew Dean would look right through the lie. “I have a lot on my mind.” He looked down at Dean’s rumpled tunic and the dried come on his legs. “Is it okay if I clean this up for you?”

Dean nodded, his expression speaking volumes. He was going to let Cas's comment slide, for now. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas let his grace wash over Dean’s skin, removing all stickiness from him and also healing the bruises that would have formed on his hips from where he had gripped him far too tightly. He gave Dean a shy glance and asked, “Better?”

The hunter nodded, pressing against Cas, a grin on his face. “Dating an angel has all kinds of perks, huh?”

Cas looked down. “I have to compensate for other things I’m lacking. We should go, I want you to be rested for tonight. Our next visit here won’t be very pleasant.”

Dean scoffed. “Cuz every visit we’ve had has been such a freakin’ picnic…”

Cas quirked an eyebrow and gave Dean a quick smile. “The feast yesterday was a nice change though. You seemed to have enjoyed the food.”

“Why does everyone keep calling me fat?” He looked down at his stomach. “I haven’t put on that much weight, have I?”

Cas just stared at him for a moment. “I… I didn’t say anything… You’re not fat.”

Dean smirked. “I’m fucking with you.”

Dean had done it again. Cas was completely confused. He quirked an eyebrow and chuckled, at least he could call the man out on the literal part of his comment, “I know, Dean.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean had used the time of their walk back to Barachiel’s new place to think about their situation. The fact that the Limbo fuzz was breathing down Cas’s neck, they weren’t able to find Sam yet, the fucked up policies and procedures of a world that was so immersed in decadence and depravity, it made the Folsom Street Fair look like a kiddie carnival.

And then there was the mind-blowing sex. He knew Cas had lost control, but he had succumbed so easily, so readily. While Dean was more than aware of his sexual attraction to the angel, his lack of any kind of protest, even in his head, was starting to worry him. It was like the butt plug thing. He was still himself, he felt no different, but the inclinations, the innate way he performed his role; it shouldn’t be possible to be brainwashed in five days, right?

Dean shook his head of his thoughts as they finally reached the elegant villa. Following Cas through the weaving corridors until they finally reached the privacy of their room. Without hesitation, once the chain was removed from his collar, he crawled onto the bed and sprawled himself out on his back, closing his eyes against the glimmer of sunlight poking through the ornate drapes that covered their window.

The sigh that escaped his lips was rife with not only his physical exhaustion, but the mental exhaustion that was starting to cloud his mood. Dean covered his eyes with his forearm. “Please tell me that we’re narrowing it down, that we’re, at least, getting closer to finding Sammy.” He needed to hear something good.

Cas sat down on the edge of bed with a closed off expression. “The probability that we will find Sam soon is very high. Camael has excellent connections and with his help I’m sure we’ll find him.”

“Thank fuck for that. I’m so ready to get the hell back home.”

Cas rubbed his hand over his face. “There is a rule that higher class angels from Heaven aren’t allowed to stay here for long periods of time. There is always the threat of becoming a savage… It’s in my best interest to bring both of you back as fast as I can, Dean.”

He leaned up on his elbows, staring at the angel for a moment. That wasn’t good news. “How long before you go savage?”

“There is no specific time frame. It depends on how much I’m exposed to situations that… I usually don’t have an emotional reaction to a lot of things on Earth. It’s different here.”

Dean’s blood ran cold, that was exactly what he was afraid of. Damnit. He knew it was all too good to be true. There was no way that a Winchester could actually have a win in the love-life department. How could he have been so stupid and so selfish? Here Cas was trying to just not lose it, immersed in sex and violence and losing his semblance of control the longer they were in Limbo, and Dean was using it to play some twisted version of House; and just because he couldn’t keep his feelings for the guy in check.

It wasn’t right. Cas deserved better. “I’m not helping, am I?”

Cas turned on the bed to face Dean. “Every time I look at you, you remind me of who I am. But… I’m afraid that there will come a moment when that isn’t enough and I might hurt you.”

Dean sat up, feeling weighed down by the collar as well as his heart. What a fucked up situation they were in. Dean was using Cas to enact all of the domestic and romantic, as well as sexual, fantasies he’d had from years of being in love. And Cas was using him to harness his innate savagery and keep himself in check. In fact, he had literally used Dean to get his control back after the fight with Zagan, not that he had any complaints. It had been one of the most intense orgasms of his life.

He moved closer to the angel, their knees touching as he sidled next to Cas and grasped his hand, intertwining their fingers. “How much of what you feel here is real and how much of it is the influence of this realm?” Dean was grateful his voice was able to remain steady.

Cas bit his lip, looking down at their hands for a moment. “There is no easy answer to that, Dean. Everything I feel here is real, but I won’t feel this way anymore when we get back. Usually the grace of an angel protects us from emotions. That's why so many angels went mad after they fell to Earth. Angels aren't used to dealing with emotions. Everything I feel is so intense, overwhelming and confusing. I don't even know what is right or wrong anymore. I feel intense pleasure from things I know I shouldn't feel pleasure from… I… I just don’t know how much longer I can..."

Dean could actually feel his heart break. He’d never realized that was a literal phrase. Cas enjoying their sex, their closeness, wanting to continue exploring it when they got back, it wasn’t real. It was all part of the way the realm affected him emotionally. He kept his gaze downcast and softly tried to steady his breathing. Dean wanted to scream, cry, punch something. It wasn’t fair, how could he have been so stupid? Letting himself have a little bit of hope.

Steeling himself, he looked up and gave Cas a smile. The fakest smile in the whole damn world. He was getting really good at the whole acting thing, too bad he didn’t have these skills when they got stuck in that awful parallel dimension where he was some douchebag actor named Jensen. Now was not the time to reenact a scene from Bridget Jones, or whatever other chick flick. They were here to do a job, Dean could be the perfect slave until they found Sammy.

“It’s okay, Cas. Look, maybe we both got a little lost in all of the… Shit, I don’t know, intensity I guess? We don’t have to keep this up when we get back. I…” He squeezed Cas’s hand. “I get it, I’m here for you and I’ll do what you need me to do. And when we find Sammy and get back, we’ll put this stupid world behind us, okay?”

Cas’s expression was unreadable. He just stared at Dean for a long moment before he looked away. His voice sounded quiet as he said, “Okay…” Cas stood up from the bed. “I’m going to talk to Barachiel for a moment. I’ll have someone bring you food.”

Dean nodded dumbly and watched as the angel left the room, his face entirely expressionless and voice monotone. As soon as the door quietly closed, he grabbed one of the pillows from behind him and held it to his face, letting out a scream. As the tears welled up, Dean bit his lip and looked upwards, trying to dry his eyes out. Crying wasn’t going to do a damn thing, and it’s not like Cas knew that he had literally jumped up and down on the shattered remains of his heart.

…. :::: :::: ….

He knew humanity had written poems, songs, and books about being heartbroken. He had never imagined it would actually feel so literal. Dean didn't want to continue their relationship when they got back home.

Of course Dean wouldn't want to continue it. He had basically just used him to get his emotions under control, he had confessed feeling like a monster. Confessed that his emotions were a part of him and even though his grace protected him from them on Earth, they were still there and a defining aspect of his character.

All of the times when his grace had been in a weakened state since he had met Dean, his emotions had an impact on his behavior and coping mechanisms; something he had to learn to live with over the years. He had a much better grasp on them on Earth, but here in Limbo, they were practically out of control.

Violence wasn’t something that fazed him in the slightest at home, but here… He loved it. The power that surged through his body, the lust and pleasure of having so much might and control over someone else’s life. His whole body ached with the want for another fight, for someone’s bones crushing under his grip and the feeling of warm blood on his hands.

He felt his jaw tensing when they reached the shabby house of Paimon, the slave trader Camael had spoken of. The whole walk he had felt tense and ready for a fight, almost wishing they got attacked in the streets. Camael gave him a worried look. “Are you feeling well?”

“Yes.” He nodded tersely. “I just don’t like this area.”

Camael didn’t seemed to buy his lie, but Cas didn’t care. He was all too aware of every step of Dean behind him and although it had a calming effect on him in the past few days, now it seemed to just make him more tense.

A house slave opened the door and let them inside of the slave trader’s house. It was dilapidated, the stone slabs on the floor were broken and chiseled, the wall didn’t have any holdfasts, so both Camael and he had to take their slaves with them.

Dean. He had to take Dean with him. It wasn’t the first time Cas had referred to Dean as his slave in his mind and he felt deeply ashamed that it happened again.

"I can't believe my eyes. You are the hot topic everywhere, Commander. I'm surprised you found your way down to my place." Paimon was a shady looking angel with dirty grey wings and short blond hair. His dull grey eyes looked suspicious and condescending.

"Camael has told you what I'm looking for?"

"Vaguely. I wish you would have come earlier. I already had to destroy a few of the souls I acquired. Such a shame. But Solas's unfortunate death meant that eyes of the law were suddenly on my business."

“YOU DID WHAT?” Cas yelled at him. He couldn’t believe his ears.

Paimon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard you are looking for a man, right? I just got rid of the young girls, no one wants them anyway and they are practically worthless.”

He reacted before he could think about it. Paimon struggled for air when he grabbed his neck and smashed him into the wall. “No soul is worthless. You should watch your tone with me.”

Cas felt Camael’s hand on his shoulder. “Castiel, calm down. We’re just here for the soul.”

For a moment Cas wanted to squeeze the life out of this worthless angel, but Camael was right. He took in a deep breath and let go of the other angel. When Paimon glared at him, Cas punched him in his face.“Show us what you’ve got and stop provoking me. I’m at the end of my patience.”

Paimon wiped the blood from his nose as he kept his face down. The gesture calmed Cas’s inner turmoil and he felt his mind clearing for a moment. He had to be more careful, but the temptation to fight was overwhelming.

They followed the slave trader down the hallway and through an iron door that led to a circular shaped room with a deep hole in the middle of it. The smell was horrible and Cas could hear whimpering and crying from below them.

Paimon gestured to the hole. “These are all that I have left. Most of them I already sold to the arena.”

Camael nodded. “I will need a list of customers and which souls you sold to whom.”

“Of course, oh, great, Camael. Try to ask that again without your guardian at your side,” Paimon sneered at the other angel.

Cas rolled his eyes and grabbed Paimon by his neck, pushing him down to his knees at the edge of the hole. “Here’s what's going to happen, you little bitch. All of your illegal souls will go to the authorities when I’m done with you. The only question is, are you going to cooperate with us and give my friend what he asked for? Or should I throw you down there so we can see how you fair against all of those angry souls? Please defy me one last time.”

He purposefully had said that in English so Dean would understand. Cas was desperately trying to show him that he tried to do the right thing, that he tried not to be like the other angels.

“Alright, alright. Stop! I’ll do what you’ve asked for,” Paimon begged, his face paling as he watched the gathering of souls below them. Cas let his gaze wander over the men in the hole. Sam wasn’t among them.

He was almost tempted to just throw Paimon down there out of frustration, but they would need the list. He pulled the angel back from the edge. “Give Camael what he asked for.”

Paimon made a gesture at Camael to follow him. His voice sounded frightened, but also angry as he accused, "I know what you’re doing here, Camael. You’re going to use this to get rid of the competition.”

Camael shook his head slightly and smiled. “I’m using this to get rid of the dirt. Hurry up, I don’t want the commander to be forced to endure your company any longer.”

Cas gave Camael a grateful look. “Will you arrange for those souls to get back where they belong after this?”

“Of course, Commander.” Camael shot Paimon a pointed look to show him to his office and the angel scurried away with a last scornful look.

Cas waited a moment after the door closed behind them to turn around and look at Dean who was kneeling on the dirty floor. “Sam’s not here, but we’ll get a list of all the souls Paimon has sold recently.”  

Dean nodded, still refusing to look up at him. “How long will that take?”

“They should be back in a few minutes. Are you okay?” Cas asked quietly.

“M’fine,” he mumbled, still kneeling, still keeping his head down.

Cas didn’t need to see Dean’s face to know that his friend was anything but fine. Sadly there wasn’t much he could do about that. A selfish part of him wished he would have never told Dean the truth about his emotional struggles. Dean was probably disgusted by Cas’s behavior right now. It was hard not to compare how much better Dean had handled himself under the influence of the Mark of Cain. How much more difficult that influence had to have been to resist, and just how colossally Cas was failing to pull himself together under the influence of Limbo.

Dean needed someone to rely on to save his brother and the only thing Cas was showing him was how weak he was and that he wasn’t any better than all of the other angels of this realm. No wonder Dean didn’t want him anymore.

His chest hurt painfully and he had to look away from Dean. Luckily for him Camael returned with a list in his hand at that moment. The older angel nodded to him. “We can leave now.”

“Did he give you any trouble?” Cas asked quietly.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Camael touched his shoulder and gave him another worried look.

“You should rest, my friend. Return to Barachiel’s and get some sleep. I will make arrangements for tomorrow. We will continue our search in Acedia.”

“You’re right. That’s probably for the best. Thank you for your help, my friend.” Cas nodded as they left Paimon’s house.

“It’s an honor, Commander. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Cas watched Camael and his slave leave before he turned in the other direction to walk back to Barachiel’s new domicile. He didn’t get very far before he was stopped by someone shouting his name.

Zagan.

Cas rolled his eyes and took in a deep breath. His nerves were already strained and tolerating Zagan was outside of the threshold of his patience.

“You will have to come with me!” Zagan yelled at him without any form of respect.

“I don’t have to do anything," Cas growled. “And I’m not in the mood for your games, Zagan!”

“You killed Paimon!” Zagan accused in a shrill voice.

Cas was taken aback. “What? I just spoke to him. He isn’t dead.”

“He is. I heard him screaming and found his dead body in his office. His Venqod told me you were just visiting him. That’s the second slave trader who has been killed after your visit. Do you think I’m stupid? You are coming with me.”

Cas scrubbed his hand over his face. A sudden coldness rushed through his body, followed by lust pulsing through his veins. His voice sounded dangerously calm when he said, “I’ll give you one last warning, Zagan. This is not my doing. Leave me alone.”

Zagan narrowed his eyes. “You are a timebomb, Castiel. It’s in my power to force you to leave if you starting to lose control. I bet it’s already happening. What did Paimon do to you? Did he not bow low enough to show you respect? Did you kill him because he wasn’t obedient like your little Quasahi? ”

The first punch felt satisfying. He could hear Zagan’s nose break as the blood splattered all over the other angel’s face. Zagan fell to the ground and Cas kicked him in his stomach, before he knelt next to him, pressing one knee onto his throat. His grace lit up and it felt glorious, burning through his body like being unleashed for it’s true purpose. To burn, to destroy. An unforgiving light that could smite everything out of existence. It flooded his voice, filling it with might and righteous anger. “You forget your place. I don’t have to justify myself to you. It’s out of kindness that I have told you I’m not involved in those murders. If you ever question my integrity again, I will kill you.”

He stood up slowly, his eyes watching every movement of the other angel as Zagan carefully stood up with his hand raised in a defensive and surrendering gesture.

“Leave me, Zagan. Pray we don’t cross paths again.”

Zagan looked around for a moment before he hurriedly left without another word. Cas knew if he had said another word, he would have killed the angel.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was in a daze as they made their trek back to Barachiel’s, another slave trader was murdered and this time he could absolutely verify Cas had nothing to do with it. It was too convenient, far too convenient. Someone was trying to set him up. That or they really had the worst luck in the history of ever.

Not that he was particularly sad about that slave trader being murdered. Keeping all of those people and creatures in a freakin’ hole in the ground, like a morbid homage to Silence of the Lambs. However that jackass was murdered was probably too good for him.

Cas had gotten so freakin’ angry just from whatever the dude had been saying to him, so either he was a truly despicable character, or Cas was starting to lose his control more and more by the minute. Dean believed it was the former, otherwise Zagan probably would have been ripped to shreds a few minutes ago.

The train of thought was derailed by his chain getting yanked forward, causing Dean to fall against the cobbled path behind the main road, his hands bearing the brunt of the collision with the dirt and gravel. When Dean moved to kneel, dusting the dirt off of his tunic and hands, he finally noticed Cas. The angel had dropped his chain and was growling at the wall in front of them. Blood flying back against the angel as he pounded his knuckles against cement like stone, no sign of letting up.

Shit. Cas was starting to lose it. Without thinking he was at the angel’s side, pulling his arms down. Cas panted, chest heaving up and down as he trembled, eyes fiery and almost completely blacked out from the dilation of his pupils.

They were a few feet from a wall tent. Hoping that the thing was empty, he pulled Cas toward the structure, shoving him inside. Thankfully the dirty tent was empty, save for a couple of wooden chairs and a table. Dean gripped the angel’s shaking wrists. “Cas?”

No reaction, no response, blue eyes targeted at the entrance, a laser like focus. He wasn’t hearing anything.

“Cas!” Dean cried.

The angel was still shaking, chest still heaving with aggravated breaths, eyes still focused on the outside. Cas’s plea rang in his ears in that moment: if you see me losing myself… run.

Dean would be damned if he was gonna run. Not when his best friend needed him most. Not again. He started shaking Cas by the shoulders, crying out his name, still to no avail. Cas’s breathing was becoming more labored, laced with small grunts and growls. The fuck was he gonna do? Nothing Dean was doing was reaching the angel.

Wait. Last time Cas almost lost it, he fucked Dean against a wall in an abandoned courtyard. Maybe that was the key, maybe sex would snap him out of it. He hesitated as he looked into the angel’s face, after everything they had been through, it was probably the worst idea in the world, but it was probably their only shot.

Hands twisted in the sheath across the heaving chest, Dean yanked Cas forward into an utterly filthy kiss. Lapping at his tongue in the most sinful way, Dean groaned and slid one of his hands downward, instantly at the buckle holding up Cas’s pants. For once, the angel was pliant and relatively unmoving.

Shit. The prospect of sex wasn’t even registering. Dean was feeling a little panicked, if this didn’t work… Damnit, it had to work. Able to walk the angel backwards towards one of the chairs, Dean ripped Cas’s pants down to his knees and shoved him down onto the seat. The angel’s cock was rock hard, either an effect of the adrenaline, or Dean was starting to reach him. He didn’t care what the reason was.

Never more grateful for being weirdly prepared, like some sort of fucked up boy scout, Dean grabbed a small vial of oil from the slung pouch across his chest. He coated the rock hard cock, barely any finesse as indigo eyes continued to look past him. Dean shook his head. This better work.

Dean hiked up his tunic to his chest, clamped between his armpits after he yanked the buttplug out, and crawled onto Cas’s lap. Reaching out behind him, he gripped the angel’s cock and lined it up, before slamming himself down onto the hard sex. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, it was the most intense mixture of pain and pleasure. Rough sex wasn’t new to Dean, but this level of desperation, the need, it was practically otherworldly.

Dean began to ride Cas, a frantic pace, wrapping his arms around a sturdy and unmoving neck for balance. Forehead pressed against the angel’s, Dean’s moans came out more like cries at the forceful pace. “Cas! Please!” He wasn’t begging from pleasure, or sexual need. He was begging for his friend to come back to him.

Dean blinked away the spots filling his vision from the overwhelming sensations. “Come on, Castiel!”

Finally a flicker of acknowledgement flashed across the angel’s face. Dean continued to ride Cas’s hard cock in a frenzied grind, able to lean back a little to wipe the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Cas raised his hands and touched Dean’s face, his voice sounded like he was still far away as he murmured, “Dean… no… I…”

“Shut up and fuck me,” he panted.

Cas groaned deeply, his hands moving from his face down to his hips, grabbing him painfully hard as he used his strength to bodily lift him, sliding him up and down on his cock, Dean no longer having to fuck himself onto him.

Dean pulled Cas forward and slammed his lips against the angel’s. The utter debauched and hectic rush of what they were doing, fucking on a city street with a tent entrance strewn open, the roughest and fastest the angel had ever fucked him, Dean was losing control. The amount of pain should have honestly discounted any pleasure, but the thrill of it all was tipping him over.

Still kissing Cas, Dean slid one of his hands from his lover’s neck, trailing downward to grasp his neglected erection. Tugging in a frantic rhythm to match Cas’s fucking into him, Dean cried out into his lover’s mouth as the orgasm started tingling through his entire body.

It wasn’t long before Cas followed him, biting into Dean’s shoulder as he let out a deep growl. When the angel pulled back, his breathing slowly evening out, there was blood around Cas’s mouth. Dean’s blood.

Frantically he wiped at Cas’s face, hopefully able to baffle him enough to not notice what was now on his hands. Dean didn’t want Cas to spiral further downwards into guilt. When blue eyes registered the marred red color on his hands, Dean knew he was too late. “Cas, it’s fine…” His voice was a little panicked.

Cas’s eyes grew wide and alarmed, he slowly touched his own lips, probably tasting Dean’s blood on them. His eyes fell on the bite mark on Dean’s shoulder and he gasped. “Dean… I’m so sorry… I…”

“It’s fine, it really is…”

Cas looked at at him as if Dean had lost his mind. “It’s not fine! How can you say that?”

“Cuz you’re here, it worked, I got you back,” he whispered, his tone urgent and pleading.

Cas shook his head slightly. “And the next time? Fuck, Dean. I told you to… Anything could have happened! I’m not your responsibility and I don’t want to use you as my punching bag.”

For the first time since Cas lost it, he got angry. “We’re each other’s responsibility whether you like it or not! So, yeah, next time? Next time I’ll know to start riding your cock a lot sooner, so you can snap out of it faster. I’m not gonna lose you, not to this realm, and not to yourself, so deal with it!”

Cas closed his eyes for a moment, his voice just above a whisper, “And how should I deal with it when I kill you next time this happens?”

Dean let out a bitter laugh. “I’d rather die trying to bring you back than leave you.”

Cas leaned back against the chair, staring at Dean with a furrowed brow. “You are infuriating.”

At that comment, Dean relaxed. They were okay. They weren’t great, but they were okay. His body shook slightly with a relieved chuckle. “And you’re an angel.”

Cas gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I figured if we’re stating the obvious…” He gave him a small smile.

Cas returned the smile for a second before he touched his face, a soft glow emanating from his hands. His expression changed from concentrated as he healed him, to a shy glance. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you one more time?”

Dean wanted to scream, ‘you can kiss me all the damn time!’ but he refrained. It would hurt, but he promised Cas he would be there whenever he needed while they were stuck in Limbo. He cupped Cas’s face, eyes flickering from the angel’s lips and back to his eyes. “You never have to ask, Cas. No matter what.”

Dean wasn’t prepared for the tenderness and intensity of that kiss. Cas had one hand on the back of his neck, the other one held the side of his throat. Every touch of their lips held a meaning, unspoken words of regret and loss. It felt like saying goodbye, yet a desperate need to hold on. A resigned, half-hearted fight against the inevitable loss.

This wasn’t a goodbye he was prepared to make, Dean clung to Cas’s shoulders like a drowning man to a life preserver. Which he pretty much was. There was wetness on his lips and that’s when he realized Cas was crying. Actual tears as they continued to get lost in each other.

As the fire blazed out and their breathing softened, Dean pulled back. His right hand caressing the tear tracks from the angel’s face. “Cas…”

“Tell me we can get through this,” Cas whispered.

Dean gasped, trying to not burst into tears himself. “Of course we can, we always do. I wasn’t lying when I said you’re stuck with me.”

He didn’t know why Cas looked so forlorn by his words. The angel gave him a quick one-sided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I should get some sleep. We should go back.”

Dean nodded as he slid off of the angel’s lap, wincing slightly as Cas’s softened erection slipped from his ass. He was definitely going to be feeling that in the morning. He pulled the tunic down as Cas stood and pulled his pants back up. Cas bent down to pick up the slack of the chain and moved to start walking out when Dean grasped his arm.

He received a perplexed head tilt with that move and Dean thought he might collapse from the wave of love that washed over him. He was so screwed and if he was going to be screwed, he might as well enjoy it as much as he could while they still had to play pretend. Dean pulled Cas closer with the chain, before he leaned in and kissed Cas again. Quick and soft, but it still made his heart swell. “Thank you.”

Cas tilted his head again. “For what?”

It was all too much, in that moment everything crashed into him, his love, his fear, his hurt and pain, his missing brother, his lost hope. Everything. Dean couldn’t stop the damn flood gates, his chest heaving as a sob escaped and his trembling lips causing him to stutter, “F–For… For coming ba–back to me…”

Cas pulled Dean in his arms, burying his face into the side of his throat. “You brought me back, Dean. I’m so sorry to put you through all of this, for being weak… Thank you for bringing me back.”

Dean was still shuddering from his tears, clinging to Cas refusing to let go. “Please don’t do that. Don’t say you’re sorry, you're not weak…” He pulled back slightly, looking the angel in the eyes. “You’re a goddamn hero, you understand me?”

Cas gave him a disbelieving look. “Why are you saying this, Dean? I’m not. I can barely keep my control and… You are strong, Dean. You fought against the influence of the Mark of Cain for such a long time. I’m on this plane for a week and I keep failing you.”

Dean’s lip trembled again. “You were willing to come here alone to save Sammy, knowing what this place does to you. You were willing to put yourself at risk for my brother, for us. And the only goddamn reason I fought the mark as long as I did was because of you, so don’t you dare say you aren’t a hero, cuz you’re my goddamn hero!” He pressed his head against the angel’s chest as he succumbed to his tears again.

Cas’s voice was breathless and quiet as he asked, “What do you mean you fought the mark because of me?”

Face still crushed against the warmth and comfort of the angel’s chest, he mumbled, “Cuz I couldn’t kill you. I couldn’t do it, and that grounded me. You kept me human.”

“And now you are doing the same for me…”

Dean sighed, lifting his gaze as he got ahold of his emotions. “Don't say it like that, like I'm this self-less…” He shook his head. “I'm selfish, alright?”

Cas’s brow scrunched up. “How can you say that?”

“Cuz I need you! I don't want to lose you, either!” Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was love, maybe it was because they were both in an emotional situation they've never had to deal with before; but Dean needed to stop thinking, to stop talking.

He wasn't sure who started kissing who first and he didn't care. Because this was uncharted territory, they could make up the rules. A soft kiss replete with urgency, a deep seeded and unadulterated need, Dean whimpered into the touch. He slid his lips over the angel’s stubble until they were cheek to cheek. “You aren't taking anything I'm not willing to give,” he whispered.

Dean drew back, green eyes meeting blue in search of... he had no idea. And it didn't matter in that moment. “So, whatever you need from me, just take it.”

Chapter Text

The first thing he registered when he woke up was that he felt calm and content. Something that shouldn’t be possible if he considered how long they had already stayed in Limbo.

His fingers traced down Dean’s spine when he noticed his friend was lying on top of him with their legs tangled. A smile made its way to his lips before he could stop it.

Waking up with Dean next to him – he had never realized how something so simple could mean the world to him, could make him feel so happy.

Dean’s hair tickled at his nose and made him smile even wider before he left a soft kiss on the crown of his head. Dean’s arms around him, pulling him closer, he knew the hunter was trying to not wake up.

Sweet denial for a few more seconds. Cas sighed deeply. It was all just a dream. He wouldn’t get to keep this once they were back and he shouldn’t get used to it. Dean was trying to help him, to keep him grounded. And it worked.

He should stop pretending there were other reasons. There was no future for them when they got back. Dean knew what Cas was. He accepted him as a friend and Cas couldn’t ask for more than that.

His fingers continued to draw patterns on Dean’s naked skin, symbols and letters he tried not to think consciously about, but were screaming at the edge of his mind to be acknowledged. His thoughts inevitably turned to everything that happened last year with the Darkness. How Lucifer had tried to hurt him, telling him how Dean was affected by the Darkness and that they shared a special bond. The archangel had called him a pathetic excuse for an angel, that he wasn’t more than a lapdog that no one cared about.

The words had broken something in him, words that Lucifer had spoken out loud, words that reflected what he had already been thinking. But hearing them had somehow made it more real. The worst part wasn’t that he let himself be used as a tool again, but rather what Lucifer had said about Dean and Amara.

Cas was aware of the profound bond he shared with Dean, even though they had never actually talked about what that meant or acknowledged that it was something special. For a long time Cas hadn’t thought about it at all, because it had been inconsequential. But with the new context of emotions, he finally started to realize why Lucifer’s comment had been so painful. Dean was supposed to be his.

And the symbols and letters he was drawing on Dean’s skin were his quiet hope for their bond, a silent promise to love Dean until Cas ceased to exist.

Dean began to stir, practically curling into his chest as he slowly awoke. When the hunter lifted his head, he was met with the most alarmingly sweet smile he had ever seen on the man’s face. “That’s a first…” He chuckled.

Cas returned the smile, he knew Dean was teasing him about not being a ‘morning person’.

“Hello, Dean.” He couldn’t help himself as his fingers carded through Dean’s hair.

The hunter let out an appreciative groan as he pressed his head to Cas’s chest. “You tryin’ to make me go back to sleep?”

“Maybe… Would that work?” Cas couldn’t help but think that it was an excellent idea to sleep some more.

Dean hummed in the affirmative. “Don’t ever tell Sammy though, he’d never let me live it down if he knew I liked cuddling and affection.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Cas smiled as he continued to run his fingers through Dean’s hair. His other hand continued to draw Enochian letters on Dean’s back, since he was sure Dean wouldn’t understand their meaning anyway.

He knew all the words to complete an Allar, the bond for a lifetime. And although he knew he could never share that with Dean, he felt the need to write the promise of love on his warm skin. It was like saying it, but without the repercussions of the consequences, or the fear of Dean rejecting him.

Dean pressed his face against Cas’s neck and growled, “Let’s never leave this bed.”

Cas turned his head to kiss Dean’s temple. “Never is a long time.”

“It’s nowhere near long enough, Cas.”

It felt like painful stab in his heart. He knew Dean was just joking and that he didn’t know where Cas’s thoughts had went. How he had practically drawn the complete bonding ritual on his skin, because he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with Dean. He tried to compensate for the pain with humor, something he had learned, over time, from his friend. “You would grow restless and sick of this in less than an hour, especially if you get hungry.” He didn’t mention that he would miss Sam or his car, he knew that part was obvious.

Dean leaned up, finally making eye contact again. “I know.” He sounded strangely sad as he continued, “It was nice to pretend we could…”

Cas’s eyes fell on Dean’s lips for a moment before he looked up at him, getting lost in friend’s eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he cupped Dean’s face. “But it also hurts, everytime I realize this isn't real. Maybe we should stop pretending.”

Dean sighed and nodded, he gently clapped his own hands over Cas’s, holding them in place on his face. He let out a mirthless laugh. “Welcome to the club.”

Cas closed his eyes for a moment, the only thing he wanted was to kiss Dean. Just drown them both a little while longer in their pretense. Seeing the sadness in Dean’s eyes and the hurt, he just wanted to push him on the bed, make him forget about everything that was going on. Just for a few more minutes. The temptation was overwhelming. He rubbed his thumb over Dean’s lower lip, taking in a shuddered breath before his eyes found Dean’s again. “Kiss me.”

Dean’s eyes widened, surprise evident, but it was short lived as the hunter pressed forward, lips colliding in desperation. In that moment, all that existed in any universe was Dean Winchester and the frantic way they were clinging to each other.

He turned them around on the bed, stretching his wings to relieve the uncomfortable tension from being pressed into the bed as he deepened the kiss. He held Dean’s face in his hands as he pulled back, not looking at him before he latched his lips to Dean’s throat.

“Cas,” the hunter gasped his name in a plea.

Cas tapped into his grace and let his palms wander from Dean's face to his shoulders, healing  every little ache in his lover's body before he pushed his own arousal through the connection.

Another plea fell from Dean's lips as he writhed under him, pressing his erection against Cas's with a needy moan.

Cas left a trail of kisses down Dean's chest, flattening his tongue against Dean's nipples, toying with them, before he continued to explore Dean's skin with his lips.

He slid further down on the bed, pushing Dean's legs apart before he wrapped his lips around Dean's erection.

He suppressed a smile when he heard Dean cursing above him. Cas sucked him down a few times before he let go of him, ignoring Dean’s noise of protest. He kissed the insides of his thigh, using his fingers to spread Dean’s ass before he flicked his hand to get the oil from the nightstand. He loved doing this. Slowly preparing Dean with his fingers, stimulating his prostate and watching how Dean came undone under his touch. It was easy to open him up, Dean was ready for him.

Cas knelt back on the bed, when he withdrew his hand to spread the oil on his already throbbing erection. “Come here, Dean,” he commanded quietly. Cas pulled Dean up from the bed so he could sit on his lap.

Dean instantly lowered himself on Cas’s dick when Cas wrapped his arms around him to pull him close, tenderly caressing his back and kissing Dean’s shoulder. It had never felt so intimate before. Dean moved his body at a slow pace, kissing Cas’s throat for a moment before they leaned their foreheads against each other. Their lips touched a few times and they breathed in each other’s air. One of Dean’s hands were on the back of his head, carding through his hair, the other one buried in one of his wings. Dean had his legs wrapped around him, moving against him like waves against a rock. Cas couldn’t tell anymore where his body stopped and where Dean’s began. It felt like they were melting into each other.

It hurt how much he wanted to feel like this forever. He wanted to tell Dean what he was feeling, it would feel so right to say those words, but he only managed to moan Dean’s name.

As Dean rocked against him, the next words the hunter uttered shook him to his core, “Gassagen In.”

Cas leaned back to look at Dean before he raised two fingers to press them against Dean's temple, drawing a half circle down to his cheek. “Micaloz.” His voice was just above a whisper, before he captured Dean’s lips again in a desperate kiss.

Something in Cas screamed at him that none of this was real, evoking a pained noise from his throat as he pulled back from the kiss and buried his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. Not now, no. He didn’t want to think about this. He just wanted to feel Dean wrapped around him, here and now in his arms. He imagined them being home, on Dean’s bed. That their sleeping together was the result of Cas having confessed his feelings and that Dean had told him he wanted him, too.

He tenderly started to draw the sigils on Dean’s back again with one of his hands, the other pulling him closer. He closed his eyes, kissing Dean’s shoulder and throat, trying to ignore the pain in his chest and the burn in his eyes as he felt his orgasm build up.

Cas reached between them to wrap his fingers around Dean’s erection, pumping his cock in rhythm with their undulating bodies.

Dean gasped, a beautiful sound because of the way it melded with a throaty moan. Cas hoped if he got to choose the last sound he heard before he died, it would be this sound, the way Dean’s sensuality could become one with his vulnerability. “Cas… Oh, Cas.”

Cas hummed against Dean's throat and started to quicken the pace of his strokes. "Dean... I... I've got you."

“I know you do, Angel,” he breathed into Cas’s ear.

Cas bit his lip to keep himself from coming before he pulled Dean’s face towards his and kissed him again. His breathing was ragged and he was close, so incredibly close. “I want you to come, Dean.”

His obedience was remarkable because within seconds, he felt the hunter clench around him, before coating their stomachs in his release. Cas let both of his hands fall down to Dean’s hips, holding him tight as he started to thrust deep, before his orgasm finally hit him like a tidal wave.

The intensity was overwhelming and all he could do was instinctively wrap his arms around Dean to pull him close while the waves of ecstasy washed over his body.

Cas lowered Dean down on the bed and kissed him deeply as he carefully pulled out. The feeling of being separated again was painful and he couldn’t help but pull Dean into his arms to bury his face into the man’s shoulder. He was still out of breath as he said, “Can we stay like this just for a moment longer?”

“Fuck it, let’s stay like this forever.”

Cas pushed himself up to look at Dean. He tenderly carded his fingers through his hair before he gave Dean a sad smile. “There is nothing in the world that I want more than that.”

Dean’s eyes flicked downward, a resigned and sad expression on his face. “But?”

Cas kissed him again. “Dean, look at me.”

The hunter slowly lifted his gaze and Cas rubbed his thumb over his cheek.

“No buts.”

Dean let out a mirthless chuckle. “That’s just Limbo talkin’...”

Cas frowned, taken aback by Dean’s comment. He was just about to ask Dean what he had meant by that when a house slave appeared at their door, announcing that Camael had arrived in the hall.

Cas sighed. “We have to get up. Hopefully today we’ll have more luck.” He knelt back on the bed, his next words sounded more bitter than he had intended, “I can’t wait to leave this place.”

Dean nodded and moved away from him. Cas tried to not think about how drastically colder he felt. He watched the hunter hunch over the low chest of drawers. He stood up and turned back to face him, holding out a grey and dark blue tunic in each hand. “What are we thinking? Silver Surfer or Beast?”

…. :::: :::: ….

For the first time since they’d come to Limbo, Dean was grateful that he wasn’t permitted to speak to Cas. When they were escorted outside of the villa, he’d prepared himself for the quiet comfort of trailing behind Castiel for their journey. Of course things couldn’t go his way, just the once.

There were two large hammock litters, shielded by bright off white drapes, furnished with two large ornate poles for the several Venqod standing around to carry. He watched in horror as Camael and Kristoff curled up in the front litter, which meant he was not only going to be carried to the next District, he was going to be curled up next to Cas.

Cas spread out on the pillowed bottom of the hammock, his right arm extended open in space, clearly where Dean was supposed to cuddle up to his Geiad. Life just wasn’t fucking fair.

Once he was situated, he curled into the angel’s chest, keeping his eyes closed. He didn’t want to think, or talk, or anything. Dean hoped that sleep would overtake him, but no such luck. His traitorous brain kept replaying their morning together. The sex… Damn. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. Tender, slow, and utterly incredible.

And then Cas touched him in a gesture given to your lover, an Enochian kiss practically, and Dean wanted to cry. Why did Cas have to be so damn perfect? Apart from the fact that none of the feelings he had in this realm were real and the second they got back to Earth, he’d be his normal stoic, yet weirdly endearing, self.

It was almost worse than if the angel just didn’t feel anything for him in return. It was as if a person had never eaten pie in their life. They might have seen the appeal, maybe wanted to try it, but the time had never been right. And then one day, the perfect pie comes along and they try it. They get to eat one piece and it’s perfection and everything they could have ever wanted for their first experience with pie. And that’s when they are told they can never have it again.

Their life would have been so much better if they’d never had the pie, because now they were sat with a life of having had perfection, but only temporarily and to never have it again.

Every time Cas became affectionate with him, to the point he would almost believe his feelings were reciprocated, it tore him apart. The part of him that was in love with the angel, the part of him that would always belong to Castiel was soaring and singing with joy. But the other part, the realistic part that knew Cas had said himself none of the feelings would stay real, that he wasn’t in control. He didn’t know what he was saying, what he was doing. That part of him slowly died with every kiss they shared.

Oh, but did he wish it was real. That Cas loved him in return. It would make everything they had been through more than worth it. Dean knew for the sake of his heart, they should probably stop being affectionate, stop having sex, but he couldn’t turn the angel away. Whether it was due to his irreversible love for Cas, or the sort of weird urge he felt whenever the angel gave him a command, he couldn’t be sure.

Dean knew he would gladly give of himself whenever Cas asked, whatever Cas asked. Why couldn’t what Cas needed of him be his heart? Dean chuckled mirthlessly to himself; he was a Winchester. Winchesters don’t get happy endings.

Cas had started to draw patterns with his fingers over his arm. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean kept his face down. “M’Fine.”

He felt Cas tensing up behind him, the movement of his fingers stopped for a moment before he hesitantly resumed. "I'm sure we’ll find Sam soon. I'm trying my best to get you out as soon as possible."

Dean let out a shuddered breath. Weirdly enough, he had faith in their ability to find Sam. He was worried about his brother, but for some reason, he just knew Sammy was okay. Well, maybe not okay. Alive for sure. How the hell could he tell Cas that the reason he seems off is because he’s totally in love with the asshole who keeps asking him if he’s okay and he can’t scream his feelings at the top of his lungs? “I know we will.”

For a while Cas didn't say anything, just continued caressing him, before he took in a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry for making everything so difficult for you... And that I need you... to calm down."

At that Dean lifted his head into the crook of Cas’s shoulder, looking up into his eyes. “Don’t be sorry, Cas. I’m sorry your emotions are getting to you so bad. I’m glad I can be of some use…”

Cas touched his cheek. "I couldn't do this without you."

Dean smiled. “Well, technically you could. You’d have just had to use another Quasahi.”

Cas scrunched up his nose. "That wouldn’t have worked. It's not the sex that keeps me grounded, it's you. It’s being close to you... I never touched a soul from here like that, nor do I have any wish to."

I wish that was true. Dean prayed inadvertently. Fuck. He hoped Cas didn’t hear it.

"You don’t believe me?" Cas's voice sounded hurt.

Damnit. No such luck. “I believe that you believe that right now.”

"I don’t understand... Do you really believe I would want to have sex with someone else?"

“You did,” he murmured, unsure why he thought it was even a little bit okay to bring up Asmodeus. Maybe because there was a part of him that felt hurt and wanted to use something, anything, to paint Cas in some kind of unfavorable light. He needed to find a reason to stop loving the angel, or at least try to.

Cas froze beneath him and he pulled his hand away from Dean. When he looked up at Cas he saw that his gaze was far away. His voice quiet as he said, "I didn't want..." Cas closed his eyes, taking in a shuddered breath. He didn’t finish the sentence.

Dean lifted his hand to Cas’s chin, before cupping his cheek to turn his face back to him. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t… It was fucked up of me. I…” A soft sigh escaped his chest. “I’m so very sorry, Cas.”

Cas's gaze turned ice cold. "Shut up."

He was taken aback, he knew he’d hit below the belt, but still hadn’t expected to get a response like that from Cas. He let go of the angel’s face and bowed his head. “Yes, Geiad.” His voice barely above a whisper and sad.

Cas pushed him, forcing him to lay at the opposite end of the litter. Dean got the hint, he curled up to the side of the hammock, trying to keep as far away from his friend as possible. Why did everything have to be so hard? Why couldn’t they go back to their easy camaraderie? Dean had to refrain from crying… Again. This place sure was making him good at that. He did need to say one more thing. “I didn’t mean it like… It doesn’t matter. I know you didn’t have a choice and I shouldn’t have made you think… I’m sorry, Cas.”

The only response he received was stony silence. Well. Dean did wish that they could have spent the journey not talking. Be careful what you wish for, Winchester.

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas was grateful for Camael’s presence and distraction. He didn't know what to feel anymore and his mind and heart felt strangely numb, like his emotions were detached from him. It should have felt like a relief, but it didn't.

He knew the signs, although he tried to ignore them. This was the calm before the storm. There was just a layer of thin ice, separating him from the seething fire of rage that was threatening to break out and overwhelm him. He tried to forget Dean’s words, banishing everything about him from his mind. He knew that at this point every emotion would tip him over, good or bad.

They had a mission to concentrate on. A mission that started to get more difficult with all of the distractions they had to endure. He squinted his eyes thoughtfully before he looked at his angel companion. “This is the second time one of your associates has been killed. Are you sure you’re not in any kind of danger?”

Camael nodded. “I’m sure. Did you notice that this only happened to traders with illegal souls? If the assassin has an agenda, I’m probably safe.”

Cas gave the other angel a long look. “You know something about this.”

It wasn’t a question, more like stating the obvious and Cas knew that Camael was aware of his suspicion. “I told you, it’s better for you if you don’t ask about it.”

Cas took a calming breath, his impatience stirred darker emotions in him and he needed to keep it together. “Zagan thinks I have something to do with it. I’m already involved.”

Camael raised an eyebrow. “Since when is Zagan a problem for you?”

Cas felt his jaw clenching. “He will be a problem if I lose my patience with him. I’ve already stayed too long. But I can’t leave before I have fulfilled my mission.”

“Well, we have at least three houses we will visit. Maybe we’ll get lucky and find the one you are looking for. We also received an invitation to visit Beleth, the Dominator of Acedia tonight. I advise you to attend those celebrations. They will take the edge off, if you let them.” Camael gave him a pointed look and Cas rolled his eyes. He was well aware what Camael had meant by that comment.

The last thing he wanted to think about was having sex with Dean again, although he knew that it helped him a lot. But he hated the way Dean was thinking about him. He hated to need Dean like that and he hated that his friend let himself be used for it.

He could understand that the lines were blurred and that Dean started to compare him to the other angels on this realm. That he would think he would enjoy having sex even with other slaves or that he had wanted Asmodeus.

Just the thought of that made him sick. Dean didn’t believe him when he had told him it wasn’t just the sex that helped him. That it had been his feelings for his friend that kept him grounded. Of course Dean would question that. Cas knew that his feelings for Dean were real, that he had experienced them before. He just hadn’t understood them.

A doubtful voice in his mind was questioning him. What if Dean was right? What if those intense feelings of love were really just enhanced emotions, that he wouldn’t feel otherwise? How could he be sure that he could still be there for Dean when his wall of grace would dampen everything down again? Would he still want to have sex with Dean, would it still feel like this?

He only marginally remembered the one time he had sex when he was human. It didn’t even come close to what he was feeling with Dean now. So, maybe he really was affected in every way.

He recalled the inappropriate thoughts he had when he and Dean had sex. How often he had thought of Dean as his possession, and how much he loved the fact that he was so obedient when they were together. His mind was telling him that it wasn’t right to feel that way, but it didn’t change the fact that it felt good and pleasurable to think that way.

Dean had been right in asking him about Asmodeus. How could he not think that Cas was just like all of the other angels? It was true. He was affected by everything and he wasn’t in the position to promise Dean anything. He didn’t even know what was real, or what was right and wrong anymore.

Dean was right to back away from a relationship when they would return. Whatever Dean was feeling for him, he probably knew Cas wouldn’t be the same when they got back. Cas could only hope they would, at least, stay friends after this.

Visiting every slave trader in the district took almost the entire day. Every time they didn’t find Sam among the souls of the different traders’ collections, his heart grew heavier. Another wasted day. He wished Sam would pray to him, tell him where he was. But Sam only ever prayed to Cas when it was about Dean. He probably didn’t even know they were looking for him.

He was tired by the time the sun had started to set. They would have enough time to go back to the villa and change, before they were expected at Beleth’s villa.

One good thing had come from the long, exhausting walks in between the houses. He wasn’t angry with Dean anymore. He just felt resigned.

When Dean knelt down opposite from him inside the hammock on their way back, Cas touched his leg. “Come here, Dean.”

The hunter appeared confused for a moment, but did as instructed and curled up into his side as they had done at the start of the journey.

Cas turned his head and kissed his temple. “I’m sorry.”

Dean wrapped his right arm across his torso and clung to him. “Why the fuck are you sorry?”

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Because you were right about me. And I’m sorry for needing you like this.”

Dean appeared contemplative for a moment, apparently trying to construct his next words. With a soft sigh he finally said, “I don’t know what I gotta do to make you see that it’s okay. That I don’t have a problem with it.”

That’s kinda the problem.

Cas tilted his head, wondering why Dean had prayed that sentence instead of telling him. “What do you mean by, ‘that’s kind of the problem’?”

He felt the hunter tense against him. “Can you hear my thoughts, Cas?”

“Only when you pray to me. I thought you knew that.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean to pray that to you.”

Cas shifted his position so he could look at Dean. “Even if it wasn’t intentional, would you please explain what you meant?”

Dean kept his head pressed against Cas’s chest, refusing to look up. “It’s… It doesn’t matter, Cas. It’s not anything to worry about, I promise.” His voice was resigned and a little sad.

“Dean, please. This is difficult enough without us keeping things from each other. There is something on your mind and it clearly troubles you. Let me help you.”

“I know, Cas, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s just my personal hang ups with… with everything, okay?”

Cas frowned, suddenly worrying about what repercussions all of this was having on Dean. He had seen that being at the school already had influenced Dean’s behavior and he wondered if there was more. “Dean… you would tell me if I do anything you don’t want? I mean… you probably...” Cas rubbed his hands over his face in frustration. “I’m sorry. This is so complicated. Of course you don’t want to have sex with me. You’re just doing this to help me… and I’m sorry for making–”

“Stop it, Cas. I don’t know where this is comin’ from, but you do realize if I didn’t want to have sex with you we wouldn’t be having sex, right? A handjob or a blow job would get you there, I don’t have to have actual sex with you to help you. So just stop it, okay? I like it, I enjoy it, so stop the guilt train.”

For a moment Cas was stunned to silence. Was that the problem Dean had accidentally prayed about? Maybe Dean felt the effect of this realm, too. He had already changed, had become more submissive. Maybe he knew that when they returned to Earth he wouldn’t enjoy having sex with Cas anymore. Dean had never shown any interest in him before, only in women. “Is that the problem you mentioned, that you enjoy what we’re doing?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean growled as he moved to sit up, straddling Cas’s hips. He leaned forward, hands cupping Cas’s face. “I do not have a problem having sex with you, do you understand?”

Cas squinted his eyes. “Are you sure that’s not… how did you phrase it… ‘Limbo talking’?”

Dean closed the distance between them, tongue tapping impatiently at his lips, before deepening their connection. He pulled Cas’s bottom lip between his teeth, a gentle nip, before drawing back. “If it was, would I like kissing you, too?”

Cas closed his eyes, before he turned his face away from Dean. “I’m not sure. I’m not sure of anything anymore. You weren’t interested in me before we came here…”

Dean scoffed as he rolled off of Cas, back into the curled position alongside him. “You’re an idiot.”

Cas wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer, resting his chin on Dean’s head. “I know.”

Dean let out a sigh. “So, any luck with Sam?”

Apparently Dean needed to change the subject and Cas was happy to oblige. “We have searched four out of seven districts. But I’m starting to suspect we won’t find him over official channels. Both slave traders that were killed had their hands in illegal slave trading and something is going on here… Camael is somehow involved, but he’s trying to shield me from it. We are invited to a gathering tonight at the villa of Dominator Beleth. You should try to get more information out of Kristoff.”

Dean nodded. “I can do that. Is it gonna be a gathering like at Shax’s where I can kind of be myself? Or will it be another orgy fest?”

“I don’t know the Dominator personally, but gatherings in Acedia have a certain reputation for being… ‘wild’. Whatever that means.”

“So, everything we’ve seen so far has been tame in comparison? Fuck. Will I have time to prep? I didn’t do it this morning.” Dean ducked his head, cheeks reddening with the heat of his embarrassment.

Cas’s heart skipped a beat and breathing was suddenly a lot more difficult. “We’ll have time to change into other clothes and I really need a bath. My wings are full of sand–”

“Ugh, really, Cas? You know what a pain it is to get the sand out of them? Can you at least, try, to not drag them on the ground?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “It’s not my fault my wings are so large.”

Dean chuckled. “Cocky.”

“But accurate.” Cas shrugged with a grin.

The hunter rolled his eyes and kissed him on the cheek. “Can you just try? You aren’t the one who has to clean your wings…”

Cas slid a hand to the back of Dean’s neck. “Anything for you, Dean,” he whispered before pulling the hunter into a prolonged kiss.

…. :::: :::: ….

After spending way too long getting all of the sand out of Cas’s wings, they finally arrived to the great hall at the house of Beleth. The hall was darker than he had been anticipating. Several large deep mahogany tables lined the walls, that were painted deep reds and purples. The only light throughout the room came from extravagant candelabras carved from ivory and gold. It gave an aura of privacy, despite being a large and open room.

Considering Cas said the parties in Acedia were known for their wildness, everyone seemed pretty subdued. Quiet chatting at the tables, or angels and their Quasahi cuddling on the different sized Orfam Othils . No one appeared to be having sex… yet.

Maybe Cas had been mistaken about the wildness of these parties. Cas dismissed him to go and speak with some angels, so Dean approached the smaller table set aside for the slaves. When he saw Kristoff, he approached him with a wary smile. “I thought these parties were supposed to be crazy.”

Kristoff chuckled. “It’s early, don’t you worry.”

That did nothing to assuage his anxiety. Dean shook his head to refocus. “So, what’s the deal with the different slave traders? Are you worried for your Geiad?”

The younger man rolled his eyes. “Dean, I know what you’re doing.”

Genuinely confused, he asked, “What?”

Kristoff grabbed Dean by the elbow and pulled him aside, into a secluded alcove with a privacy drape. “I know you aren’t a Quasahi. What are you and Castiel doing here?”

Dean was taken aback. He’d never once heard another slave refer to Cas by his name. Something to do with his rank and respect he had assumed. “I don’t know what–”

“Cut the shit, I’m going out on a limb here, the least you could do is offer me a reason to trust you…”

This was risky, but the way Kristoff was talking, it was clear he knew something. And that something could potentially be connected to his brother’s location. Fuck it, time to take some risks. Dean lowered his voice and said, “Fine. My brother was kidnapped and brought here. We’re here to get him out, playing master and slave to try and find him.”

Kristoff nodded, a big grin on his face. “I knew it! I can’t wait to rub it in Sable’s face.”

“Dude! You can’t tell her!” The chuckle he got in response threw him off balance. “What’s so funny?”

Kristoff smirked. “Well…”

“Quasahi! Come!”

Shit. That was Cas’s voice. He started to feel panicky, he was just starting to get somewhere with Kris.

The younger man shook his head. “Go. Tonight, after Castiel falls asleep, sneak out through a passageway behind the curio cabinet in your room; it’s a slave tunnel. I’ll meet you and explain everything, okay?”

Dean nodded dumbly as he made his way toward his angel. Finally, they were getting somewhere and hopefully that somewhere would lead them to his brother. He just wished he could tell Cas.

Once he reached the angel, he bowed his head as he kneeled. “Forgive me, Geiad.”

Cas ignored him for a moment, still talking to Camael in Enochian who was sitting next to him. When he finished his sentence he tugged gently at Dean’s collar. “I want to drink and eat something.”

Dean nodded and went to the table, Kristoff following behind him. As the younger man sidled in front of Dean he whispered, “Just half.”

Dean shook his head in confusion, but before he could clarify, Kristoff had already grabbed a couple of Tahlos and moved back to where Camael was seated. Dean grabbed a plate and put a few different tarts and pieces of fruit on it. There was an ornate dessert tower and the top tier had a small card in front of it, with something in Enochian written on it. Dean shrugged and grabbed a couple of the cakes.

Cas was lounged out on one of the Orfam Othils and Dean moved to kneel beside him. He glanced at Kristoff who eyed him purposely, taking one of the cakes and breaking it in half, quirking his brow in silent communication. He placed half in his mouth as he fed a whole cake to Camael.

Dean gave him a small nod of understanding before returning his attention to Cas. He handed the angel a Tahlo and proceeded to feed him the different treats he had grabbed. He copied what Kristoff had done with the cakes, feeding Cas a whole one, while only eating a half of one.

After Cas swallowed the cake, he gasped. “Said Obloc.”

What the fuck did that mean? Dean leaned in close and whispered, “Cas?”

“It means ‘wonderland’. It’s a drug.”

Shit. That was probably bad. “What kind of drug?”

“A hallucinogenic drug that is also an aphrodisiac.”

Fuck. That was definitely bad.

…. :::: :::: ….

The first thing Dean noticed was the eerie way the candles in the room began to melt far too quickly, their flames taking on a life of their own as the wax evaporated. They sort of looked like the fairies he had to fight off several years prior, dancing around the room, giggling as they began to light different draperies and paintings on fire. Dean jumped up to try and stop them when he felt inexplicably drawn back to the cloud he was suddenly sitting on.

The room dissipated, melting in a swirl of color and fire into nothingness. The cloud he was on didn’t feel particularly sturdy, but it was somehow able to hold his weight. Looking to his left, Cas was there, his blue eyes actually freakin’ sparkling. Actual stars exploding in them. Sparks flying at the imploding supernovas.

Dean pulled away, it was really freaking him out. When the angel laughed, it rang throughout the darkened sky like church bells. “Cas?” He called out, but his voice echoed as though he was miles and miles away. When a foreboding laugh met his cry, Dean curled into Cas’s side, attempting to shield himself from the utterly terrifying sound. When he raised his head, indigo eyes no longer setting off fireworks, were staring at him kindly. A light engulfed the crown of Castiel’s head…

Dean gasped, he’d never actually seen a halo and somehow, it made Cas even more beautiful. He reached out to touch it and a horrific gasp echoed around him.

Unclean, demon. Unclean!

Cas looked just as frightened as he felt as the cloud beneath them started to dissipate, he grasped at the angel’s hand, but he was out of reach.

“Dean!” Cas cried out before he was yanked back by Asmodeus.

“Cas!” Dean panicked, scrambling for purchase against the slowly disappearing cloud. He got to his feet, watching in horror as the ice crystals started falling fast and hard to the ground below, crashing into thousands of tiny glass shards. Dean leapt forward towards Cas’s retreating form, crying out his name as Asmodeus dragged him further and further away into the black abyss.

Somehow, Dean was flying, so he dove in the direction of his beating heart, that was currently being held in a small cage dangling from Cas’s wings. He grasped onto the angel’s forearms, their breaths exhaling in a puff of smoke together from the relief. Asmodeus curled in on himself and Dean was able to pull Cas into a hug.

“I’m sorry I dropped you…” His voice sounded high pitched, as though he’d inhaled helium. Looking down, it made sense. They were so high up in the sky, they had reached a new level of ozone.

Cas smiled. “You saved me. You always do.”

Dean’s little heart inside the cage started beating erratically, slamming itself against the bars as it panted with excitement. Dean smiled and pressed forward, stealing a kiss from his angel, when they were yanked away from each other again.

Cas struggled against the hold Zachariah and Naomi had on him, Dean was flanked by Gadreel and Lucifer. Lucifer’s skin was blood red, horns protruding from his forehead, a sharp, pointed tail scraping into Dean’s exposed skin, Gadreel’s snake like tongue flicking out to lick at his blood.

Zachariah hissed at them, “Unclean! Demon!”

“Dean!” Cas cried out, reaching toward him, but being yanked backwards further and further away.

“Cas! Don’t leave me!”

Lucifer started tearing at his tunic, ripping it from his body when there was nothing but shreds of barely there fabric. Fully exposed as he struggled against the hold the two fallen angels had on him, he cried out Cas’s name, but he was too far away, fading into the night sky with far off cries of his own name.

Lucifer cackled. “He’s still here.”

Dean watched in dismay as the monstrosity before him suddenly turned into Cas. His deep voice echoing a cruel chuckle. “Better?”

Dean shook his head, trying his damndest to get the hell away from the two angels. Gadreel yanked his arms behind his back, locking his wrists together. A vicious grip on his wrists with one hand, the other hand snaked its way to Dean’s hair, wrenching his head back, exposing his neck.

Lucifer smirked and touched his collar, causing it to restrict tighter, and tighter. Dean couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe as the two angels started scratching and clawing at his body. Lapping at his blood, pressing their hard cocks flush against him.

Dean opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. He continued to struggle against the chilling scene that was unfolding. Eyes clenched shut as hot tears burned tracks down his face, he prayed to Cas:

Please, Cas. Please get out. Please live your life. Please don’t forget me.

As his vision started to black out from the onslaught of pain and lack of oxygen, a white light burst through Lucifer’s chest, melting the two fallen angels into puddles of black goo. Through the light, Cas emerged. He gripped onto Dean, pulling him close, rubbing soothing and healing circles over the crown of his head.

Cas breathed into his mouth, expanded his lungs that had been deprived of oxygen, so much so the collar shattered. A wave of strength washed over him, expanding Dean’s chest outward, finally free from the binds that tied him. Cas smiled at him and suddenly night was day. The angel’s smile radiated sunlight and Dean had never known true happiness until that moment. He held onto Cas’s hands and whispered, “I love you.”

Before the angel could respond, he was suddenly drowning, unable to breathe again. The blue around them was no longer sky, but ocean, as he sank further and further into the depths, unable to breathe, not knowing how to swim, losing his grip on Cas’s hands, on his heart.

His vision blacked out and when he opened his eyes again, he gasped. Dean was back in the hall, Cas sprawled out next to him on the Orfam Othil, whimpering against the effects of the drug, as was the majority of the occupants in the room.

Dean shook his head. Thank fuck Kristoff had warned him to only eat half of one of those damn cakes. He dreaded to know what Cas was dealing with.

Dean grabbed the Tahlo and gulped down the liquid in it, feeling insanely dehydrated. He wobbled as he made his way to the table, pouring some more water into the cup and drinking all of it. Turning around, he saw Cas still whimpering and periodically breathing out Dean’s name.

His blood ran cold. Fuck. Did he say he loved Cas out loud?  Well, seeing as the angel was on his own trip down the damn rabbit hole, he, hopefully, didn’t hear it.

As other slaves started to stir, they were hauling their angels to their feet and attempting to sleep walk them back to their rooms. Dean shrugged as he moved to Cas’s side and pulled the angel’s arm over his shoulders, pulling him up and managing to get the guy to walk with him. When in Rome.

…. :::: :::: ….

Green eyes. Concentrate on Dean. Look at him. Shadows flitted in the corner of his eyes, their tendrils reaching for him. Don't look.

He knew the nightmares were waiting in the dark, hiding in the corner of the eye, ready to drown him, confining him to the void.

The room was moving, the walls were creeping in and the floor was pressing up towards the ceiling. He couldn't breathe. Dean.

The ceiling was pressing down on them. Cas tried to push against the walls, his eyes leaving Dean for a second.

Dean.

He felt his own heart stop beating when he looked back. Dean's eyes were empty, he looked like an empty doll, no expression on his face.

No. Dean.

The walls pressed closer. Cas couldn't move and couldn't breathe. He could only watch as the walls slowly crushed Dean's body, covering Cas in his blood and bones.

Everything was dark. He was shivering in the cold. Alone. He felt confined, every movement was slow like he was dragging his vessel through water.

He was naked and felt vulnerable. Not like an angel. Slow, small, and confined. Human.

Wet noises made him look down and he saw Asmodeus licking his erection. His body was covered in blood. Blood from hundreds of copies of Dean's dead body that were piled up under them.

I want to watch how you fuck your dirty little whore.

Lucifer dragged Dean into the room by his chain. He was inside Cas's body. Dean instantly fell on his knees in front of Lucifer and started to mouth at his erection through his pants.

No. Dean. Stop! That’s not me!

He blinked and suddenly it was him instead of Lucifer. His gaze that was watching Dean obediently open his pants.

Dean. Stop. You don't have to do this. Please. I love you.

Dean looked up and his eyes were empty. Geiad please let me serve you. I'm yours to use.

No, get up Dean. You are not a slave. Please.

His own voice, but too high, cackled right next to him. Lucifer was fucking Asmodeus, who knelt before him.

Lucifer carded his fingers through Cas’s hair, licking over his cheek. Stop lying to yourself Castiel. This is you. I'm you. Remember how good you felt when I was inside you. We're the same. You were free of guilt and responsibility. You didn't need to answer to anyone. Not even Dean.

You were free, Castiel.

Dean wrapped his mouth around Cas's freed erection, licking and sucking with abandon.

Cas pushed at Dean's shoulder. Dean. Please stop. Look at me. Please come back to me.

Asmodeus moaned next him and Lucifer patted his head, before he snapped the angel's neck and let him fall to the pile of corpses.

Castiel, you peculiar little thing. Lucifer circled him before he stopped behind Dean and pulled his ass up, rubbing his erection against him.

You know you can't have him. He will die and you're not allowed in Heaven anymore. You will lose him. So free yourself from these ridiculous emotions.

Lucifer pushed his dick into Dean. It's for the best. Use this little whore like you used Asmodeus and throw him away. I know you can do it.

Cas pushed Lucifer to the ground, straddling his naked hips. Nothing will keep me away from Dean. I will tear Heaven apart if they try to separate us.

Lucifer smirked and turned him around, pushing him to the ground. Maybe I should just fuck you until you forget your little mud monkey. You belong to me, Castiel. You know that.

Cas tried to push him off, but Lucifer wrapped his fingers around his throat and choked him. You’re mine.

Cas felt dizzy, he couldn’t breathe. His body suddenly felt way too heavy and cold. A warm light fell on his face and suddenly he could breathe again. Something… green… hope, warmth, home.

He couldn’t think, Lucifer was clawing at his skin and it hurt, but he could hear something. It sounded like a voice behind thick glass.

And suddenly it was clear.

Come back to me.

Lucifer’s head fell to the ground when Dean had separated it with a sword. He looked dirty, but happy, his eyes shining when he reached out his hand to help him up.

Cas. I’ve got you.

…. :::: :::: ….

After a couple of near misses where Cas seemed to almost fight him off, he managed to get them back to their room. He was able to pull Cas to the bed and flopped him against the large cushions for his wings. Dean moved to the angel’s side as he undressed him. Cas kept moaning and flinching.

Dean wished he could delve into Cas’s dream realm, pull him back to Earth– or, well, Limbo. If what Cas was seeing was anywhere near as fucked up as what Dean saw, the urge to protect him was overwhelming.

His trip had shaken him a little. Constantly being pulled from Cas, losing him to Naomi and Zachariah, to fucked up situations involving Gadreel and Lucifer. It was a nightmare stemmed from reality.

Dean knew he had to meet Kristoff soon, but the way the angel was bucking and cringing in sleep, he didn’t want to leave his friend. He crawled up and lay next to Cas, carding his hand through the angel’s hair, hushing him. Attempting to reach Cas, maybe even bring him out of the drug induced stupor.

“Cas…” Dean pressed a soft kiss to the angel’s lips. At the lack of response, he wondered if prayer might work.

Cas… It’s just a dream, or a bad trip, whatever. Can you hear me? Can you hear my voice? Come back to me. Cas. I’ve got you.

The angel’s eyes fluttered open. Dean smiled, relief washing over him. “Hey, Sunshine.”

Cas’s voice sounded so rough that Dean nearly winced in empathy. “Dean… you saved me.”

He chuckled. “You weren’t in danger. It was just a fucked up trip. Are you thirsty? Let me get you some water…” Dean left his side to grab a bowl and filled it with water from the spring basin. He kneeled next to Cas and helped him sit up enough to drink, rubbing soothing circles over his right shoulder beneath his wing. “Better?”

“Yes.” Cas rubbed his hand over his face. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. When every awful angel we’ve ever met makes a cameo in your acid trip, shit, I know I’d rather be sober.” He smiled, feeling so grateful that none of it had been real.

Cas touched his face softly, his eyes were glazed over and full of pain. “Make me forget?” Dean couldn’t remember hearing Cas’s voice so broken before. His hand felt cold against his skin and he could see that Cas was shivering. Maybe the drug wasn’t completely out of his system yet. “Please, Dean.”

He was hesitant, if Cas was still under the influence of the drug, the last thing he wanted was to take advantage of his friend, the way Asmodeus had. Dean pulled Cas close, cradling him in his arms, planting soft kisses to the crown of his head. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Cas tilted his head up and pulled him down in a desperate kiss. “I’m so tired,” Cas murmured against Dean’s lips. “I... I... need you, Dean.”

“I know, Cas,” he whispered before pressing another kiss to tired lips. “But I’m not gonna take advantage, okay? If you need me when you’re sober, you can have me…” Dean had never meant those words more. Damn, did he wish Cas would need him when he would sober up from the influence of this realm, but he wasn’t that lucky.

Cas had his eyes closed, his fingers tried to hold onto Dean’s shoulder with sluggish movements. His voice was quiet and it sounded like he was half asleep. “I’ll always need you, Dean. I love you more than anything.”

And Dean could actually feel his heart shatter into a million pieces. It wasn’t fucking fair, it wasn’t fair that this stupid ass realm would give him everything he could have ever wanted, and make none of it real. Cas would wake up in the morning, no clue what he said, no clue just how fucking inadvertently hurtful he was. Dean let out a shaky exhale. Why did it have to be fake? Why did it have to be pretend? His lip trembled as a solitary tear slid down his cheek. He wanted nothing more than to say those words back, but he wasn’t a total masochist. “Go to sleep, Cas. I’ve got to meet with Kristoff, hopefully we’ll get closer to finding Sammy...”

Cas blinked up at him. “You’re leaving?”

Dean gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his heart. “I’ll stay here until you fall asleep, I promise.”

Cas hummed against his shoulder, leaving soft kisses on his skin. “Promise me to be careful.”

He chuckled, cupping the angel’s face and pressing one more kiss to his lips. “Careful’s my middle name.”

“No, it’s not,” Cas murmured, taking in a deep breath. After a moment his breathing started to even out until a soft beat of a rhythm that matched his chest rising and falling pulled him back into unconsciousness.

Dean couldn’t help but watch the angel sleep for a few minutes, he was truly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire existence. Dean kind of understood why the greeks destroyed Troy, if Helen was even half as beautiful as Castiel, he would probably demolish an entire city, too. Damnit, being in love was turning him into a freakin’ romantic lead in a chick flick.

Dean shook his head of his thoughts and slowly extricated himself from the endearingly clingy angel. He pressed a kiss to Cas’s temple before making his way to the curio cabinet.

…. :::: :::: ….

The maze of corridors were a little disorienting, barely lit, and weaving in elaborate patterns through the underground tunnel. Kristoff had said he’d meet him, but Dean wondered if he might end up in Narnia before that happened.

When he reached the end of one of the corridors that led to a door, Dean decided to give it a shot. He pulled on the handle, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge. “Shit.”

“You know Quasahi aren’t supposed to swear, right?”

Dean flipped around, coming face to face with a smirking Kristoff. “What happened to meeting me, dick?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

The younger man quirked his brow. “Right into it, huh? Not even a little foreplay?”

“Dude, I’m a little foreplayed out at this point…”

Kristoff shrugged in acquiescence. “Fair enough. Instead of telling you, I’m going to show you.”

Dean watched as the younger man pulled an ornate iron key from his own pouch and unlocked the heavy wooden door. He pushed it open and what met Dean was a scene straight out of Demolition Man. There were dozens of slaves and even angels, all chatting jovially, conducting business, and whatever else in a makeshift mini metropolis. There was a small tent with the Enochian symbol for medic set up a few feet away, which was simply an angel sitting on a stool and healing different people coming in.

To his left was a litter of mismatched tables and chairs, where several different humans and angels were engaged in conversation. There were humans standing in line at a makeshift grill, where two female slaves were cooking food. He was almost tempted to ask if they sold burgers, he’d be fine with a rat burger if push came to shove.

Dean turned to Kristoff and asked, “What is this place?”

He smirked. “Welcome to Coraxo.”

“That doesn’t really answer my quest–”

“What is he doing here, Kristoff?” Sable appeared out of nowhere, glaring daggers at Kris.

Dean felt panicky, but Kristoff placed a comforting hand on his shoulder before addressing Sable. “He’s one of us, Sable.”

She scoffed. “I’ve seen the way he is with his angel, and the way his angel is with other slaves of this realm. How could you be so stupid, Kristoff?”

The younger man seemed nonchalant. “Don’t get me wrong, Castiel is a dick–”

“Hey!”

Kristoff waved Dean’s defense off as he continued, “But Dean here is definitely not a Quasahi. They’re here because his brother has been kidnapped. They’re only posing as Geiad and Venqod to try and find him…”

“And you believe him?”

Dean let out an annoyed sigh. “‘Him’ is standing right here. Why don’t you just ask me yourself?”

“And why should I?” Sable challenged, arms crossed over her chest in defiance.

“Look, bitch. Believe me, don’t believe me, I don’t care. I am fucking sick and tired of this godforsaken place; watching nice people get whipped for sharing breakfast with me. Watching kind and gentle slaves get raped and being forced to do nothing about it. Watching what this fucked up realm is doing to my best friend. So if you guys can help me find my brother, then just do it and we’ll be out of your hair; if not, then I’m going back to my room to start another long, bullshit day of searching.”

Dean turned from them and started toward the door when Sable grabbed his arm.

“Wait…”

He quirked his brow at her. “I thought inter-sex touching was illegal?”

She rolled her eyes. “It would be if you were an actual slave.”

Kristoff laughed and guided the three of them to one of the tables, pulling out Sable’s chair before taking a seat himself. Dean stood there for a moment before finally taking a seat. “Alright, so what’s the deal with the ‘Scraps’ Base?”

Sable and Kristoff shared twin looks of confusion. Damn, his awesome references were wasted on everyone.

Chapter Text

A high pitched tone in his ears and a headache was the first thing Cas was greeted by when he fought his way into a conscious state again. He groaned in discomfort and tried to focus on his grace to get rid of the pain.

He was cold, his body was shivering as he pulled the blanket from the end of the bed to cover himself. “Dean?”

Cas looked around in the dark room to find his friend. Panic rose in his chest when he was only greeted by silence. He tried to remember what had happened, how he got back into the bed.

His memory slowly came back to him, the drug, the horrible things he had seen and Dean holding him in his arms on their bed.

Cas’s eyes widened as he suddenly realized what he had confessed in that moment. He had told Dean how he felt, that he loved him. And Dean hadn’t said it back.

Of course not. Cas already knew Dean didn’t feel the same way. They had already discussed the fact that they would stop whatever was happening between them when they returned to Earth. Dean was just trying to help him, because he thought of Cas as his family, that he was like a brother to him. Dean loved him as a friend, nothing else.

He felt embarrassed about the way he had confessed his feelings, afraid that when Dean returned, from what he now remembered was a meeting with Camael’s slave, that he would distance himself from Cas.

Or maybe he’d get lucky and they just wouldn’t talk about it. Maybe they could just pretend it didn’t happen.

Cas bit his lower lip. Should he try and tell Dean that he didn’t expect anything from him?

He sighed and pulled the blanket over his head. Why was everything so difficult? He hated tiptoeing around. It wasn’t his forte. He was used to getting things done in a straightforward manner. Emotions were messy and complicated and he longed for getting back home, having his grace as a shield again. Even if getting back home meant he could no longer be with Dean.

It was selfish to want more than his friendship. Dean deserved better.

He looked up as the curio cabinet in the corner of the room was moved from behind, Dean stepping through, attempting to do so quietly the way he tiptoed. When he looked to the bed and saw Cas awake, he smiled. “Feelin’ better?” He approached the bed and shrugged his tunic off before crawling up to Cas.

Cas pulled him into his arms, burying his nose in Dean’s hair. “I am now. Where have you been?”

“Coraxo.” He moved to lay alongside Cas, curling up against his chest.

Cas gave him a confused look. “What’s that?”

“It’s an underground city started by a resistance movement. It’s where slaves and angels go to be free of the rules of Limbo. Some of them are helping the slaves who were smuggled here illegally. Kristoff knows where a lot of the new stolen slaves gets taken. He thinks he might be able to locate Sam.” The tone in Dean’s voice was intensely hopeful.

Cas couldn’t help but smile, but he needed a moment to process all of the new information. “Does Camael know of this?”

Dean nodded. “It was started by him and Buer.”

Cas knew his disdain for the female angel was obvious on his face. “She hates me.”

Dean shrugged. “You’re kind of a dick, dude. But it’s part of the role. She wouldn’t hate you if she knew the real you…”

She knows the real me. Cas looked away for a moment, taking in a deep breath. “I don’t know. She had some good arguments for her hatred of me the last time I met her… Do you know if she is behind the deaths of Solas and Paimon?”

“That I don't know, but I definitely think the resistance is behind it.”

Cas nodded. “Well, since you are on good speaking terms with them, maybe you can convince them to lay off on the killings until we find Sam? I get enough unwanted attention here without being a suspect of two murders.”

Dean chuckled. “Why don’t you ask them? They asked that we meet them in Avaritia tomorrow. A good faith favor kinda deal, to prove we aren’t actually master and slave planning to have everyone arrested…”

Cas raised his eyebrow. That was either very trusting of them, or very stupid. “Who are we going to meet? Please tell me it’s not Buer.”

Dean made a sheepish face, his brow scrunched in pseudo shame. “Then I won’t tell you?”

Cas knew he looked desperate and Dean’s apologetic look didn’t make it any better. He let himself fall backwards onto the bed and pulled the blanket over his head.

He felt Dean crawl on top of him and fought against the hunter as he tried to pull the blanket down. Cas acquiesced finally and Dean shook his head at him. “Did you seriously just try to hide under a blanket? Are you five?”

Cas peeked out from under the blanket with a frown. “I don’t like her. She always tries to provoke me and... “ Cas sat up and wrapped his arms around Dean, hiding his face in his shoulder. “I’m just afraid I will snap the next time she does that.”

“Then, I don’t know, just…” Dean sighed. “Just think of fucking me or something… That should distract you enough to keep your lid on, right?”

Cas chuckled and held his hand infront of his mouth to stop his sudden outburst. “Dean, if I constantly think about having sex with you, I don’t think I can manage to have a decent conversation with anybody.”

“See? Then you’d be perfectly distracted…” The hunter quirked his lips up in a cocky smile.

Cas tilted his head and gave Dean a thoughtful look. “Don’t you think they’ll notice when I get a far-off look and a stupid smile on my face in the middle of a conversation?”

“Nah, I think as long as you don’t bend me over and actually start fucking me in front of them, you’ll be good.” Green eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam.

“I’ll try my best. I should probably wear my armor, though. Those silky garments wouldn’t hide my obvious thoughts about you.”

Cas winced when he was reminded of how obvious he had made his feelings with his little confession the night before. Since Dean hadn’t mentioned it, he was probably choosing to ignore it for the sake of their friendship. At least his fear that Dean would withdraw from him hadn’t come true, but then again, Dean felt it necessary to be at his side for the sake of his emotional sanity. He still wasn’t sure if he should bring it up, if he should apologize for it. Dean probably didn’t want to talk about it, but it felt wrong not to say anything. The only problem was that he didn’t have the first clue of what he wanted to say. Telling him that he was okay with them just being friends would have been a lie. He could accept that, of course, but he wanted to be more. He couldn’t even imagine how difficult it would be to not be allowed to touch and kiss him anymore when they got home. It was probably best to not say anything and suffer in silence – like he was used to doing by now.

Dean smirked, his tone suggestive when he asked, “Would it actually stop you if you got all hot and bothered?”

“Would you want me to stop?” Cas asked with a mirrored smirk on his lips.

Dean laughed. “Would I have a choice?”

Cas’s smile instantly vanished from his face. “Yes, Dean. If you don’t want this, we will find... I don’t know, another way. I don’t want to do anything to you that you don’t want.”

“Shit, Cas, I didn't mean it like that…” He adjusted his position to sit next to Cas instead of on him. “And no… I wouldn't want you to stop,” he whispered.

Cas touched Dean’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb over his skin. “I just want you to know that you can always say ‘no’ to me. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I know and you need to realize that you aren't taking anything I'm not willing to give. Whatever happens…” Dean shook his head. “It doesn't matter, just know I'm here for you.”

Cas gave him a warm smile. “I know. Even in my worst drug infused nightmare you were there for me.” He lifted his hand to his face, touching Dean’s cheek and his ear. “You’re the best friend I could have ever hoped for.” For a moment he thought about repeating his words from the night before, but he didn’t want to further complicate everything between them.

Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and held it, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “That goes both ways.”

Cas touched Dean’s chin and lifted it up, so he could look at him. He was surprised to see an open vulnerability in his expression, leaving him with the impression that he was missing something fundamental. All he longed for was to make Dean happy.

He rubbed his thumb over Dean’s cheek, before he leaned over and kissed him. Pushing the hunter down on the bed, he deepened the kiss for a moment before he leaned his forehead against Dean’s. His voice sounded out of breath as he asked, “Is this okay?”

A war was being waged behind the hunter’s eyes, a look that spoke of trepidation and something akin to hope. It was very confusing. Dean smiled and nodded. “You don’t have to ask…”

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean groaned as Cas traced the outline of his lips with the tip of his own tongue, before delving in. The collision of their lips less fervent and needy than before, than ever. He arched up, rolling his hips as he got lost in the warmth of Cas’s body flush against his own.

Lips trailing down slightly stubbled cheek, down to his neck, feeling the vibrations of Cas’s pulse point, heart beating almost as fast as Dean’s own. Swiping his tongue out before sucking the skin between his teeth, the salt of him mixed with something just so uniquely Cas accosted Dean’s taste buds.

Unable to contain the gasp that escaped his lips as the angel’s hand lightly touched at his chest, raking his short nails across Dean’s skin in a deliberately slow journey downwards. Splaying his palm flat just above Dean’s groin, wrenching an almost pained whine from his lips at the lack of contact.

“Cas…” Dean wasn't sure if he was begging or praying. He felt the angel’s lips curl upwards in a smile against his collarbone.

Dean bucked upwards, a silent plea for his lover’s touch, nails digging into Cas's shoulders for purchase. When the angel’s hand trailed lower, and lower, he spread his legs.

Fingers teased at his entrance, playing with the base of the plug and he lifted his hips. When their lips touched again, Cas pulled the plug out slowly, clearly enjoying the intensity of the sensations it was causing him, if the soft chuckle was anything to go by.

Cas must have mojo’ed oil to his hand, because he felt a slickness on the head of his lover’s erection as Cas used his hand to tap his hole in a teasing manner.

“Please,” was all he managed to utter against his angel’s cheek.

Blue eyes locked with green as Cas slowly pushed in. Despite the regular stretching and sex in the past week, it was almost like the first time, yet nothing like their first time. Cas’s breath was heady and hot against his cheek as he pushed in to the hilt. The fullness Dean felt reached far beyond the sex, his heart had never felt so complete.

As Cas began to slowly thrust, in and out, Dean hooked his left leg around the angel’s waist, creating the angle necessary for the right amount of pressure to tap at his prostate. The light-headedness at the insistent rhythm of their hips meeting, Dean could feel his body tremble, aftershocks of an earthquake that was the melded combination of loving someone so wholly and being connected to them in every way possible.

Dean was lost, irrevocably lost. He was never going to escape, not as long as he knew what it was like to have this, to have the person he was in love with encompass his entire being. Cas pressed into Dean’s shoulder, open mouthed and panting hard, painting his skin in heat and torturous pressure.

As the whimpers and moans escaping his chest continued to intensify, continued to combust behind eyes slammed shut, Dean felt his heart surge. When all he wanted was to scream at the top of his lungs that he loved Cas, he pulled back, shrinking in on himself. He couldn’t bring himself to mess with his friend’s emotions anymore than the realm was. It wasn’t fair, to either of them.

Instead, Dean decided to pretend. Pretend that when Castiel had confessed he loved Dean in his drugged stupor, that it was real, that he had meant it. That it wasn’t the effects of a drug, or the way Limbo affected the angel’s emotions. Twisting and manipulating them into exactly what Dean wished for, hoped for, prayed for. That the fiery bliss that was pooling in his groin, as waves of pleasure crashed over them, was wanted, not just needed.

Dean cupped Cas’s face, drawing his attention back. “Cas… Look at me.”

When the shimmering indigo engulfed Dean’s vision, he crumpled, dissolving into pleasure as his orgasm struck. Lips crashed together as they both succumbed to the tremors and shockwaves.

Dean was both immeasurably happy and utterly heart broken. This realm was going to kill him. His chest shuddered as a couple of tears escaped, clinging to Cas as though the angel might float away if he didn’t hold on like his life depended on it.

Well, it kind of did...

…. :::: :::: ….

The moment Cas noticed Dean’s tears, it felt like his heart was breaking into a million pieces. He had lost himself in the moment, pretending their situation would be different. That Dean would feel the same about him. It had felt so real.

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, his voice still out of breath and full of worry when he asked, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just…” Dean hesitated, looking away from Cas.

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “Look at me…”

A ragged and broken sound escaped Dean’s lips. “I can’t…”

Cas took in a deep breath, before he nudged his nose against Dean’s chin. “Please, Dean.”

Finally, after a beat, the hunter turned his head and locked eyes with Cas. He could not discern the look on Dean’s face. Whatever had caused him to cry was now hidden behind a wall. Cas feared it had something to do with his confession last night. He kept blurring the lines of their friendship every time he kissed Dean or had sex with him.

He closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself. “Is it because of what I said last night?” He looked away for a moment. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”

A deep sigh before Dean said, “It’s fine, Cas.”

Cas made a frustrated noise and rolled off of Dean, so he could lay on his side. “It’s not okay, Dean. I’m obviously hurting you with my behavior. We had decided to just stay friends and I keep overstepping those boundaries.”

“I told you, the boundaries don’t exist here, we agreed to stay friends when we got back to our world. And…” Another deep sigh. “And I told you it’s fine, so can you please drop it already?” His tone contained a mixture of annoyance and sadness.

Cas ruffled his hand through his own hair, which probably made it even messier. “What about when we’re alone? Would it make it easier if I tried to, at least, hold myself back when it’s just the two of us?”

“What part of ‘drop it’ do you not understand?” he half yelled as he sat up and turned away from him.

Cas shouldn’t have been surprised. He had already assumed Dean wouldn’t want to talk about Cas’s stupid confession. But he just didn’t know how to navigate around Dean anymore. He didn’t know what he could say or do that would be okay. “I don’t have any illusions nor am I naive enough to hope… I just wanted to let you know that I don’t expect anything. I just want you to be happy. And if that means we just stay friends, I accept that.”

“Stop it, Cas. Stop saying shit you don’t mean.” His tone was bitter, back still turned from him.

It felt like a stab in the heart. He should have known that Dean had already seen through his lie. Cas didn’t even know how he would continue to live his life, when they would have to return to just being friends. He couldn’t keep his fingers away from Dean for even a few minutes. Now that he knew how perfect it felt to be with Dean, how on Earth was he supposed to give that up?

Not that this was his decision to make. Dean had clearly made it for them and he had to accept it, whether he wanted to or not. He hated how broken his voice sounded as he said, “I’m sorry. I won’t bother you with this again.”

He stood up from the bed and slowly slid into his armor again. The room was suddenly too small and it felt like rocks were weighing his chest down, making it difficult to breathe. He needed to get out. “I’m going out. You can stay here and eat something… and rest.”

Dean shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, I guess.” He rolled back into the bed, pulling the sheet up over his shoulders, clearly done with their conversation.

Cas closed his eyes for a moment before he left the room with a broken heart. He had probably messed up everything and now he had a massive desire to kill something.

He knew where he had to go to satisfy that need, he just wasn’t sure if he would be able to come back from that.

…. :::: :::: ….

“It’s the same as the last time, isn’t it?” Camael asked with a worried look.

“Not quite. I feel more prepared for this than the last time, but I still need to do something to take the edge off,” Cas admitted to the other angel.

“I understand. I told you that I would help you.” Camael’s voice sounded sincere and Cas was incredibly grateful for having the angel as an ally.

They walked down the hallway of his house in silence until they reached the door, leading to a little sandy arena. “I thought you had brought your slave with you to help you relax. Although, now I’ve heard that he isn’t a slave...”

“And I heard you’re starting a revolution.” Cas gave him a pointed look. “I think we’re both good at keeping secrets.”

“You know why I couldn’t tell you.” Camael raised an eyebrow and stared in direction of the mountains, that were visible behind the wall.

“Of course. We all have to be careful.”

Camael took in a deep breath. “So, since your friend isn’t really a slave, he can’t help you to relax...”

Cas dragged his feet through the sand. “He would. I just don’t want his help anymore.”

“Castiel, you shouldn’t do this to yourself. This path is dangerous. You will feel better after this, but you will feel the desire to do it again, much sooner.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m aware, Camael. But I don’t have a choice. I don’t know if Buer is behind the killings, but if she is, she is responsible for the fact that Zagan trails me like a mangy dog. He thinks he’s being clever keeping his distance, but I can feel his eyes on me every time I step into the city. I can’t allow myself to lose my control with him or with your accomplice.”

“She hasn’t mentioned anything when I talked to her at Solas’ villa. If she did it, it was without my consent,” Camael explained in a thoughtful tone.

“I believe you. She probably just wanted to protect you from me. She thinks I’m a monster... She isn’t wrong.”

Camael sighed. “That’s not true. You just don’t belong here.”

“I know, but I have to finish my mission… You should go.”

Camael gave him one last look before he nodded and left him in the arena. Cas knelt down on the sandy ground, his fingers drawing random patterns in the dirt before they turned into the letters of Dean’s name. He closed his eyes to focus on his surroundings, blocking out every sound, prayer, and sensation against his skin until he only felt the center of his power, confined in his vessel.

He concentrated on breaking those confinements, letting his grace seep into his body and into his wings. He stretched them as wide as possible, feeling the muscles moving under his skin. It felt good to have his wings back. He had missed them. His body started to burn from the inside, a painful searing that caused him to gasp in pain.

A rush of emotions overwhelmed him, every spark of anger, sadness, hate, and lust; every feeling he had tried to suppress in the last few days, erupted up to the surface in a rush of heat. He let his weight fall onto his hands, clawing at the sand under him. A growl fell from his lips.

Everything around him was tinted in black and red. He wasn’t alone anymore. His muscles tensed as the creatures circled him. Shadows, moving like black mist, constantly changing their shape. Teeth, claws. Yeenaaldlooshii, skin walkers.

He was going to rip them to shreds.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when Cas had brought up saying he loved him, pretty much immediately after they had, for lack of a better word, made love; his body went into fight or flight mode. He wasn’t actually mad at Cas, the guy couldn’t help himself and it wasn’t his fault that he kept losing himself to emotions. Dean would probably spout off ‘I love you’s’ to everyone he was around, too, if he’d gone from muted to technicolor.

He needed to get a grip on himself and stop taking things out on Cas. They were here to find Sam and that wasn’t going to happen if Dean kept being a bitch about the fact that the guy he was in love with was pretending to feel it back. He’d been through Hell, literally. He’d been through a lot worse. It was time to stop making his friend feel guilty for needing him. The reality of the situation was he could lose Cas to this realm if he didn’t keep his head and heart in their respective places. An emotional fallout was going to have to wait.

He hadn’t been sure how long he was asleep, but as he moved to get up, a house slave Dean hadn’t seen before timidly walked into their room. The guy looked pale, like he’d seen something horrible. “Your Geiad needs you at the Kurida Salman.”

Dean felt his blood run cold, he grabbed the wing oil, a couple of towels, and practically ran out of the room; not even bothering to get dressed. It wasn’t like he needed to wear a tunic in a bath house.

When he reached the room, practically slamming the door open, he was grateful that, for once, the Kurida Salman was empty, save for his own angel. Cas was standing stock still in the middle of the hot spring water, eyes gazing off into nothingness. He was covered in blood, large and deep gashes across his chest.

What the fuck had he done and why hadn’t the idiot healed himself? Dean dropped the towels on the ground, and dove into the pool, swimming up to the angel until he was in front of him. “What the fuck did you do, Cas?” He tentatively reached out to gently touch the angel’s shoulder.

Cas’s eyes were expressionless and reminded Dean of the time when he had been brainwashed by Naomi. “I found an alternative to keep me grounded. You no longer need to feel responsible for my emotional state.”

His blood ran cold, murder was so not an okay alternative. “Who’d you kill?”

“No humans, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying dick, but you killed somethin’. And…” Dean moved to gently touch the angel’s chest. “Why haven’t you healed yourself?”

Cas looked down at his chest, his expression indifferent. “Because it hurts. The pain keeps me focused.”

“I’m not washing you until you heal yourself.” Dean was conflicted, he was concerned for his friend and yet, he could throttle the guy for being so stupidly stubborn. If this was his idea of an ‘alternative’ then they were going to have to address what was happening between them. They needed to talk, but he needed his friend to get his head on straight. And he wasn’t going to risk the conversation being overheard. Cas needed to heal himself, get clean, and then they could gab until the cows came home. Dean crossed his arms over his chest, stance adamant and unmoving as he waited for the angel to respond.

“If you won't help me, please leave. I’ll do it myself.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Just heal yourself and I’ll help, it’s not a difficult choice, man.”

Cas tilted his head. “I already told you that I need this. You had worse injuries after I attacked you, when I was under that curse, and you didn't allow me to heal you. Don't make a big deal out of it. This is far less painful than what we have done so far.”

Why was he bringing that up? One had nothing to do with the other. Dean narrowed his eyes at the angel. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the giraffe in the room, the thing you don't want to talk about. I'm not stupid, Dean. I can see what this little arrangement is doing to you. I'm hurting you. And I can't do it anymore, because it's breaking me.”

He’d never simultaneously wanted to punch and kiss someone at the same time. “It’s elephant, and no, Cas. I don’t want to talk about it, because we have more important shit to focus on than my emotional hangups and the way Limbo keeps fucking with your emotions. I’m sorry I don’t wanna talk about it, but…” Dean let out a sigh, they needed to find a way to move past this, lest their friendship crumble like his heart inevitably will by the end of it. “I’m not mad. I mean… Okay, I’m a little pissed, but I’m more mad that you would get yourself hurt and stay in pain instead of comin’ to me. If I can suck it up, then why can’t you?”

“This is my way of ‘sucking it up’. I just found a better way of dealing with my problem. One that doesn't ruin our friendship…”

Dean let out an aggravated sigh, gripping his own hair in frustration. “Stop the martyr bullshit. There’s a much better way to harness your emotions here than murdering things and getting hurt in the process, and I hate to break it to ya’, but that better way is standing right in front of you. Our friendship has withstood a lot of shit, Cas. I’m pretty sure it can handle the stupid emotional baggage that comes with having sex. Okay?”

Cas gaped at him for a moment. “First of all, you can stop with the ‘martyr bullshit’. You’re the one offering himself to me like a sacrificial lamb. But, of course, it's okay if you do it, right? Have you ever thought about how it makes me feel, that you don't take my feelings about you seriously and that you want me to use you? Giving me the illusion that there could be more, but every time I get reminded that I'm just a monster needing this to keep me from murdering people?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean wanted to shake the angel, how could he be so… He tried to take a deep breath, but the waves of anger were too strong. “You can’t control your feelings, you ass. Why the fuck… Fuck you, Cas! None of this is real, you said so yourself and you’re getting all high and mighty that I won’t take your fake feelings seriously? Do you even have…”

Dean shook his head and started walking away, if he didn’t he would likely do something he'd regret. He was halted by a firm grasp on his arm. Dean couldn’t look up though, if he did, he might cry.

“Dean… I don't have control over my anger and certain sensations, like lust, are more prominent. But I have control over every other feeling.”

He froze. Then that meant Cas… That Cas… No. Not possible. They were in a fucked up realm where they had to play master and slave and Cas couldn’t control himself and that was his reality. It had to be. There was no way in pluperfect hell that the angel reciprocated his feelings. Dean let out a mirthless chuckle. “You don’t know what you’re saying…” He tried to step away from the angel, but the grip on his arm tightened.

“All the time you tell me that you trust me, or that you have faith in me, and yet all I ever receive is doubt.” He let go of Dean, his voice quiet as he urged, ”Just go.”

Dean turned away to walk towards the door, but something stopped him. He was tired, he was so utterly tired. He grabbed Cas and pulled him forward, feeling a little bad at the hiss of pain the angel exhaled. “No. I’m not leaving it like this.” He cradled Cas’s face in his hands. “I’ve never really had faith, Cas. Not in God, or goodness, or even myself. I never did until…” He took a deep breath. “Until I met you.”

Cas let out a deep sigh. “What do you want from me?”

And how the hell was he supposed to answer that question without potentially losing himself? Losing himself to the false sense of worth and love this entire stupid situation was causing him. He sighed. “I want you to stop beating yourself up over what you’re going through. I want you to realize that I will always be there for you and I want you to see that I mean that. Whatever happens after we get Sam and go home, it doesn’t… I’ll still be there.”

“But we’ll lose this. You won't kiss me anymore… I will lose this part of you, seeing you like this, feeling you against my skin. Tasting your lips. I don't want to give that up.”

Dean shook his head, his lip trembling. “That’s just Limbo talking.”

“I know you don't believe me… but humor me for a moment. What if my feelings are still the same when we get back?”

“Why are you doing this?” Dean wiped away at an errant tear that started to form.

“Because if you're saying there is no chance for us after this, I won't touch you again and I don't care if you have a problem with my new coping methods. I'm not discussing it.”

“Of course there’s no chance! None of what you feel is real! You keep fucking saying and doing shit like you love me and do you have any idea how that is just… How much you are fucking killing me? Do you? No! You don’t! Because you’re overwhelmed with emotions you can’t get a grip on and… It’s not fucking fair! Okay?!” Dean turned his back to the angel, he couldn’t handle looking at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

Cas‘s voice dropped to glacial temperatures. “Of course I don't know, because you don't talk to me, Dean! But it's okay. I got your message loud and clear. I'm killing you because I confessed my feelings to you. Feelings that aren't compromised by this plane, but, of course, you don't believe me. But you know what? If this is killing you, then stop advertising your body like you actually want me. Maybe you’re the one who is compromised by this plane when you start acting like a whore.”

Dean slapped him, ignoring the stinging pain that throbbed in his hand. His lip curled up in disgust, far too angry at that comment to register just how hurtful it was. “Find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” he spat, before turning away and leaving Cas to tend to his wounds alone. Dean was so fucking done.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean’s hand was still throbbing by the time he got back to their room. A physical reminder of what had just happened. Of the fact that Cas had called him a whore. And the more he thought about it, the more the words stung. Not just because his best friend, the guy he’d been in love with for over half a decade said it; but because a part of him feared that maybe it was true.

His behavior in Limbo, albeit not all that uncharacteristic, was magnified on this plane. The requirements of a Quasahi not only came naturally to him, but was aggressively becoming more and more innate. There should be some reticence when it comes to public sex, the levels of degradation that he had been so gladly to succumb to.

While a significant part of him was happy to have sex with the angel, in every way imaginable, because of his attraction and feelings for the guy; the infinitesimal part of him that reacted to the prospect with intrinsic interest was starting to terrify him. Hell, if Cas walked in through the door at that very moment and barked at Dean to bend over the nearest available surface, he wasn’t entirely certain he would protest.

Like the weird desire he had to prep himself, just in case. That wasn’t normal behavior, normal thinking. Shit. Maybe Cas was right. Not that he’d ever tell the angel that. Not now, not ever. Dean had been so ready to have an actual conversation, but everything escalated so quickly, they both got lost in their respective emotions and fears.

Cas thought he loved Dean, he hated that he belittled the guy’s feelings, but how can he trust them, when he can’t even trust his own in Limbo? He should have never pushed Cas to bring him along. Fuck it. He was tired of waiting to find his brother.

Dean found a pair of pins meant for clothing and stuffed them into his satchel, before shrugging on the green tunic and pulling the curio cabinet aside. He made his way through the seemingly endless tunnels and eventually found the door to Coraxo again. It took him less than three minutes to pick the lock. Thankfully that ability hadn’t disappeared with his modesty.

Dean made his way through the crowds, smoke billowing from the makeshift grills as two different women were working it, perspiration coating their brows. They looked happy, despite how rough that appeared.

He started looking around, really taking in the atmosphere for the makeshift metropolis. Dystopic jokes and 90’s movies references aside, Coraxo was quite a sight to see. Not as busy as the districts above ground, but crowded enough that Dean had to sidestep the humans conducting business, or having conversations in the makeshift paths that were likely utilized as roads. Interestingly enough, there weren’t any angels that he could see at that moment. He shrugged it off, it was likely due to some sort of expectation during daylight hours.

Dean took a seat at one of the makeshift bistro tables, content to people watch. The genuine pleasure he saw on all different sorts of faces was drastic in comparison to the fear and general subservience he was used to seeing above ground. The existence of Coraxo was a sanctuary for people who had lived a subpar life to end up in a hellish eternity.

Dean’s internal reverie was interrupted by a startling commotion by the medic tent. Sable and a couple of other slaves he didn’t recognize were crying out. He darted in their direction, eyes honing in on the slave being supported by Sable and another female slave with blonde hair and a cabbage patch doll face. The slave dangling between the two women was filthy, covered in dirt and blood, his dark skin blotchy and marred. There was a large, weirdly familiar looking piece of metal sticking out of his left leg.

“Where the hell is Remiel?” Sable barked at another slave inside the tent.

“He was called to a meeting,” a short, portly man answered her, panic in his eyes.

“Damnit!”

Dean turned to the short slave who answered Sable. “Do you guys have alcohol here? Something with a high proof?”

The guy nodded.

“Grab that, a scalpel, tweezers, needle and thread, and some rags,” Dean barked out the order at the wide eyed slaves in the tent. He moved to help lift up the slave, turning to Sable. “Help me get him to that table.”

She nodded and followed his order.

Dean pushed up the guy’s tunic, looking at the injury. It was close to the femoral artery, but off to the side enough that he should be able to pull the metal out without causing the poor bastard to bleed out. “What happened?”

“He was wrangled illegally with a couple of wraiths, when one of them attacked, its retractable spike broke off in his leg.”

As the two other slaves approached and handed Dean his requested items, he turned to the guy on the table. “What’s your name, man?”

The guy shivered, shaking his head in confusion. “What… what does that matter?”

“Just talk to me, man. Tell me your name, tell me your life story, your favorite My Little Pony, just talk to me…”

“Roheem.” He gasped in pain when Dean touched the spike.

Dean grabbed the bottle and poured the liquid over the scalpel and needle, before pouring a small amount at the wound site. He then handed the bottle to Roheem. “Drink. You’re gonna wanna be as fucked up as you can, okay?”

He nodded, grabbing the bottle and taking several large gulps. Sable and the blonde slave were at his elbows, still supporting him. He let out a resigned breath. “Just do it…”

Dean nodded. “Where you from, Ro?”

“I, uh… I’m from Fre–” Roheem’s sentence was cut short as he let out a sharp cry of pain when Dean ripped the spike out.

He grabbed one of the rags and pressed down on the wound, turning to the blonde. “Come here.” As she approached, Dean grabbed one of her hands and held it over his own hand on the rag. “I’m gonna need you to keep as much pressure on the wound as you can while I thread the needle.”

She nodded and did as he instructed, years of high pressure situations that required emergency medical attention for himself or Sammy kept his hands steady. Dean nodded to her and moved to pull up the rag, nowhere near enough blood bubbled up to indicate a nic to the artery. He let out a relieved sigh, he wasn’t going to have to use the scalpel.

Dean finished sewing up the wound and coated it with another splash of alcohol, before taking a swig from the bottle and handing it back to Roheem to finish off.

The blonde slave and the other two guys helped Roheem up and walked him to one of the cots in the medic tent. Dean wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, that’s when he noticed the weird way Sable was looking at him. “What?”

Her brow quirked, she folded her arms over her chest. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

“A necessary evil in my line of work.”

“Military?”

Dean shook his head. “Hunter.”

Before Sable could ask anymore questions, her angel stormed in, eyes frantic. “Where is he?”

Sable pointed to the tent and Buer disappeared behind the flaps, coming back a few minutes later. “I completely healed him, but who…”

Sable smiled as she approached Buer, grasping her by the arm with a familiarity reminiscent of a lover. “Dean here…”

The angel’s attention snapped to him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he was scrutinized. Her deep green eyes bored into him, making him more and more uncomfortable by the minute. Finally she barked, “You’re Castiel’s aren’t you?”

Dean nodded, trying to not think about how readily he claimed that title. “Technically, I’m no more his than Sable is yours…”

Sable laughed, shaking her head at him. “I’m very much hers.” She leaned into Buer and pressed a soft kiss to the angel’s lips.

Well, that movement earlier made a lot more sense. Buer’s stern mask crumbled when she looked at Sable, gently caressing the woman’s cheek as she smiled. “I have to return. You’ll take care of this?”

Sable nodded and Buer pressed one more kiss to her lips before storming down one of the pathways in the other direction. In that moment, Dean realized he had a hell of a lot more in common with Sable than he originally thought. They were both tall, sarcastic, and stupidly in love with an angel. The only difference being, her angel seemed to genuinely love Sable back.

“Aren’t you scared?” Dean asked.

Sable’s brow scrunched up in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Angels can’t control their emotions here, like, they aren’t really real, right?”

She appeared contemplative for a moment before answering, “Yes and no. The angels of this plane can, it’s not the same for them as it is for angels from Heaven. All of their emotions are quite real, but for visitors, they’re just magnified. Lower class angels need years of practice to control them at the same level the angels on this plane have; but other angels… they need to find ways to take the edge off, otherwise... I know Buer would never hurt me, it’s not in her nature.”

“So, for the visiting angels it’s still just an effect of the realm?”

Sable moved to sit down on a stone bench, indicating for Dean to sit next to her. “How long have you loved Castiel?”

Damn. No foreplay, right to the main event. He sighed. “Years.”

“And I take it none of your feelings were reciprocated until you both came here, am I right?”

Dean nodded, trying to quell the painful thump of his heart.

Sable smiled. “All of the emotions felt here by angels are magnified, Dean. They aren’t fabricated.”

Wait, did that mean… Dean groaned. He really was an asshole. Cas actually did have feelings for him. ‘Did’ being the operative word though. Because of his stupid hangups and refusal to listen to the angel, Cas was now done with him, physically and emotionally. He let out a bitter laugh, talk about two ships passing in the night. “I fucked up, Sable.”

She grasped his hand, giving a squeeze for comfort. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Sable offered a small smile before a look of realization came over her face. “Wait, Kristoff is out with Camael. How did you get here?”

Dean shrugged. “I, uh… I picked the lock to the door?” He hadn’t been expecting the hand slapping him upside the head. “Ow…”

“You deserved that. Why did you come here?”

He let out a sigh. “I just needed an escape and was hoping to maybe talk to some folk, see if maybe they’d seen my brother…”

Sable smiled. “Actually, I have news on that front. A human matching your brother’s description was brought here illegally, with a few other creatures from Purgatory, and was spotted being led through the old catacombs. Which means your brother could be in one of three possible locations. We were going to inform you tomorrow, once we validated the claims.”

Dean could cry, or kiss her. “What can I do to help?”

“Not much for now, go back to your room and we’ll meet up with you tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll have more information for you then.”

Dean nodded. At least the day hadn’t been a total disaster. He felt a weight was lifted with the thought of finding Sammy, and finding him soon. He could deal with the fact that he pretty much obliterated any shot he had with Cas later. Much much later.

…. :::: :::: ….

When Cas finally made it back to their room, Dean was gone. He wasn’t sure if he should be glad about it, or worried. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore. Knowing Dean, he had probably taken off to Coraxo to clear his head. At least he was safe there.

He fell forward onto the bed, face pressed into the sheets and tried to think of nothing. Of course, it was a ridiculous attempt, but he tried anyway. His chest hurt. But the pain didn’t come from his injuries, it came from his heart.

He had messed everything up and he knew it. He didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. It had been an act of defense. Dean’s words had been so tempting, how he had offered himself like that. Cas had nearly believed him. But then he remembered how Dean cried after the last time they had sex.

Cas wasn’t stupid. He knew this was hurting Dean. His friend was always quick to sacrifice himself for others, not thinking about himself.

Cas snorted. And Dean had called him a martyr. The irony wasn’t lost on him.

The calm feeling after killing the skinwalkers was completely gone now. Cas bit his lip to suppress a frustrated growl.

He knew Camael had been right and that satiating his desires with violence wasn’t the best strategy he’d ever come up with. But what choice did he have? Barachiel would have given him another Quasahi if he knew about Cas’s situation, but Cas didn’t want to use another innocent human. Killing monsters was the only way.

Images of him sitting in their blood, red mixed with the sand under him, began to overwhelm him. It had felt so good. He felt his dick harden when feelings of power and lust washed through his body. His whole body was burning.

He pushed himself up and knelt on the bed, fingers stroking over the scratches on his chest. He pressed down on them, the pain jolted through his body and he felt his erection throb against his stomach. He glanced down, his fingers wet with his own blood, before he grabbed his erection and stroked it hard.

He didn’t need Dean. He could do this by himself. Even his own mind laughed at him for the pathetic attempt at lying to himself.

He tried to not think about Dean, how his lips felt against his own, how close and intimate it felt to be with him. It felt so real. Like Dean wanted him exactly the same way. He couldn’t suppress the sob that escaped his lips. He wanted it to be real so badly. The salt from his tears burned where they fell on his wounds.

He bit his lip hard until he could taste his own coppery blood. Blood and pain. That was everything he needed. It was a lie, but he needed it to be true. He gripped himself harder, stroking himself at a brutal pace, when he heard a noise behind him.

The sound of the curio cabinet behind moved shook him, followed shortly by Dean’s voice. “Cas?” The hunter stopped dead in his tracks as he looked at the scene before him.

Cas just wanted to yell at him to go away, but no words made it past his lips. He turned away from him, not knowing how to deal with the situation. His hand was still on his dick. He had stopped stroking it for a moment, but his body screamed at him to continue.

“Cas?” Dean repeated, his voice was closer.

Cas closed his eyes for a moment before he faced Dean to glare at him. “What? Do you want to stay and watch?” He didn’t regret the bitter tone in his voice.

Dean scoffed. “Despite what you think, I’m not actually a whore. So, no. I just wanted to tell you the good news, but I guess I’ll leave you to… Whatever.” He started walking back to the hidden passage doorway.

Cas sighed. “Wait.”

Dean stopped walking and turned back to Cas. “What?”

Cas shivered when he let go of his erection. Mission first. He wanted to go home, he needed to go home. “Did you learn something new about–” He gasped in pain when a sudden wave of heat ran through his body. “Sam?” he pressed out through gritted teeth.

The bed dipped, Dean kneeling near him, gently grasping his shoulder. “You’re burning up.”

“I’m aware,” Cas murmured, he felt dizzy and just wanted to lie down. “What did you find?”

Dean sighed. “Sable said that a man fitting Sam’s description was seen being taken through the catacombs…” He leaned closer, stroking his hand into Cas’s right wing, massaging at the joint. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Stop touching me.” Dean’s hands on him felt incredible. The room around him was spinning when another wave of heat burned through his body. Only the area where Dean was touching him felt cool. His instincts threatened to take over, an innate urge to bury himself into that feeling. He needed it. Cas made a pained sound. “Go, Dean. Run.”

While Dean did retract his hand, he shook his head and stayed seated next to him on the bed. “No, we need to talk.”

Cas couldn’t register Dean’s words anymore. The only thing he noticed was the tempting coolness was suddenly gone. The heat sucked every sane thought in an unforgiving maelstrom, drowning his last shreds of self control.

His last instinctive attempt to save Dean from him was a threatening growl, before he grabbed him forcefully to push him on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Dean cried, sounding more shocked than anything else.

Cas tried to say something, but it just came out as another growl. He pushed up Dean’s tunic, before he pinned the man down at his wrists. He instantly started licking at Dean’s exposed stomach, long wet stripes, tasting the freckled skin under him. His body arched against him, like an offering and he just needed to taketaketake.

Cas turned Dean around and pulled his hips up so he could start licking his ass cheek. When he made it to the man’s entrance, he let out an irritated growl when his tongue touched the plug. He pulled it out ruthlessly. He instantly latched his tongue and lips to Dean’s hole and licked into him. Cas clawed his fingers into Dean’s skin to spread his cheeks, flicking his tongue against Dean’s pucker, revelling in the whimpering sounds coming from Dean below him. He licked wet, long stripes against Dean’s entrance, before he pushed his tongue into him.

Dean was trembling against him and Cas couldn’t wait any longer. He lined himself up and pushed his cock all the way into Dean. He instantly started to fuck him into the mattress in a frenzied pace, already so close from his own ministrations earlier. The tight heat surrounding his cock felt glorious.

He spread his wings into the room, getting lost in the pure pleasure that was coursing through his body. Just a few more fast, hard thrusts and he would fill up Dean’s body, marking him. MineMineMine.

One of his hands stroked down the long expanse of Dean’s back, leaving a trail of blood that was still on his hand. Cas wrapped his arm around Dean’s chest and pulled him up against his body, his fingers sliding up to his throat. Wrapping his hand around it and squeezing, Cas used his grip to hold Dean firmly before he bit down on the hunter’s shoulder.

He licked at the blood with a satisfied humming noise before he let go of Dean and pushed him back on the bed. He slid his fingers through Dean’s blood before he reached up to his own chest, mixing it with his own.

He continued fucking into Dean with hard thrusts when he painted the symbol for ‘Mine’ on Dean’s back with their combined blood. Seeing that satisfied a much deeper need than to fill Dean up, but at the same time doubled his desire of want and need.

He nearly blacked out when he came.

And with his release, clarity washed over him, taking every frenzied, uncontrolled emotion with it and freeing his mind from the harsh claws of his instincts. The relief of calmness was instantly exchanged for dread. What have I done?

He slowly pulled out of Dean, falling back on his knees. His voice matched the level of fear he was feeling, “Dean?”

The hunter turned around, wincing a little. “I’m okay, Cas.”

Cas suddenly felt sick. He scrambled from the bed to one of the bowls next to the water basin and violently emptied the contents of his stomach.

The last thing he expected to feel was Dean’s hand rubbing soothing circles on his back, hushing him. “It’s okay, you’re okay…”

His throat was burning and he was dry heaving now, his stomach empty, but he still felt sick. There was so much blood. He rubbed his hand over his lips, finding more fresh blood on his hand. His knees gave in, unable to stand any longer. Dizziness and darkness started to muddle his consciousness. Something wasn’t right.

He leaned against Dean as he slowly sank to his knees. “I’m so sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry.”

Dean was on his knees in front of him, pulling Cas into an embrace. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve got you.”

Cas tried to concentrate, tapping into his grace. His injuries were worse than he thought. His vessel had started to bleed on the inside. But he felt too weak to heal himself. Dean was more important. He had hurt him. He pushed his grace to flare up, it hurt and he gasped in pain as he pushed two fingers against Dean’s face, letting his gesture show him how much he loved Dean. He healed Dean’s injuries before darkness claimed him and everything was quiet.

…. :::: :::: ….

“Cas?” Dean shook the unmoving angel by his shoulders. “Cas!” The wounds on Cas’s chest were bleeding, no sign of clotting and his lack of consciousness was putting Dean right into panic mode.

He didn’t know what to do, how to help his friend, and he’d be damned if he left Cas in the state he was in. Dean contemplated if he should try to pray to another angel, it was a risk, but the way Cas started growing paler was beginning to terrify him.

Camael, please come to Castiel’s room, there’s something wrong with him. I don’t know how to help.

As Dean waited, unsure if his prayers could even reach angels of Limbo, he cradled Cas in his arms. “Stupid, son of a bitch,” he whispered into the crown of the angel’s head, pressing kiss after kiss against the mess of raven locks. Why would he heal Dean first? It would have made so much more sense to heal himself and then heal Dean.

Although, if he was perfectly honest, he knew why. Cas was probably so engulfed in regret and guilt, violating his promise to himself to not touch Dean again. And damnit, he knew he probably should have pushed Cas away, tried to stop him, but there was something about the raw, animalistic need in his friend that excited Dean beyond comprehension.

Shaking his head in silent reprimand of himself, Dean let out a sigh. He was a whore apparently. Dean sat there, gently caressing his friend’s face, a face that was becoming more and more pale. When he was just about to give up and go and find– hell, anyone to help Cas, Camael and Kristoff came through the door.

Camael looked at Cas, eyes widened in surprise. “What happened?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, he didn’t heal his wounds earlier and just, passed out.” He conveniently left the savage sex part out.

The other angel nodded and knelt beside them, placing his hands on Cas’s chest. “The damage is deep, this will take several minutes.” Camael gripped Cas by the shoulder and pulled him to lay flat against the floor. Turning back to Dean he offered in a sympathetic tone, “You might not want to see this, go with Kristoff and wait outside.”

Dean shook his head, but Kris was immediately at his side and tugging him to his feet. Once out in front of the closed door of their room, Dean began to tremble from a mixture of fear and anger.

“He’ll be okay, Dean-o.”

Letting out a resigned sigh, he pressed his back to the wall and slid down to a crouched sitting position. “How am I supposed to help him?” It was a rhetorical question, but the desperation he was feeling, he wouldn’t have said no to an answer.

Kristoff moved to sit next to Dean, cross-legged, his hands in his lap. “All you can do is be there for him like you have been. And be prepared for him, he’s going to start losing control more frequently and faster. The sooner you leave, the sooner he’ll be able to control his emotions again.”

Dean nodded. “That’s kind of the problem. He doesn’t want…” Letting out a deep exhale he finished, “He doesn’t want me anymore. I… I was kind of in the wrong place at the wrong time.” Damn, that thought hurt so much.

Before Kristoff could reply, Camael opened the door and addressed them, “He’ll be fine, he’s resting on the bed. We shall take our leave, but don’t hesitate to contact me if he relapses.”

Dean nodded and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the angel before tentatively stepping back in the room. Cas was on the bed, sprawled out on his back, his wings spread fully beneath him. All of the gashes and blood was gone, his left arm draped over his eyes.

“Cas?” he asked, slowly making his way toward the bed.

Cas lowered his arm slowly, revealing eyes on the verge of tears. “Hello, Dean.”

He’d never heard two sweeter words, letting his relief and gratefulness overwhelm him, Dean rushed to the bed, climbing onto it and pulling Cas into a hug. “You asshole! Don’t ever do that again!”

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I couldn’t stop myself…” Cas pressed his body closer to him, as if he needed something to hold on to.

“I’m not talking about the sex, you dick.” Dean continued to cling onto the angel, terrified to let go.

He could feel Cas rubbing his nose against his shoulder, his voice sounded quiet and muffled, “I hurt you.”

“You hurt yourself more…” Dean started to stroke his friend’s feathers.

For a long moment Cas didn’t say anything, before he pushed away from their hug to look at him. “I don’t know what to do, Dean.”

“Do…” He took a deep breath. “Should we go back to Earth for a little bit? Come back in a few days?” He hated making the suggestion, but if finding Sam meant completely losing Cas… He wanted to avoid that at all costs.

Cas shook his head. “For the first time we have a solid lead on finding Sam. I don’t want to be the reason he’s stuck here for longer than necessary.”

Dean nodded before finally saying what he’d wanted to say since he talked to Sable. “I’m so fucking sorry, Cas.”

Cas squinted his eyes. “Why? You have done nothing wrong, Dean.”

Dean wanted to argue, he wanted to point out every single thing he’d done wrong so far in this journey to save his brother; but he was so tired. Tired of everything being so damn complicated, of fucking up left and right. “I’ll accept that, if you will, too.”

Cas gave him a pained look, slowly shaking his head. “I still don’t know how… I tried to calm down by killing some skinwalkers, but in the end I still did this to you. I’m sick of hurting you.”

Dean sighed. “The only way you’ve hurt me this entire time was when you made me think I was going to lose you. Everything else pales in comparison. I can’t…” He shied away from Cas’s intense stare. “I can’t lose you again.”

"Dean, I want you to be honest with me, because I just don't know what else to do... You're not unaffected when we have sex. This does something to you... Don't insult my intelligence by denying it. I can feel it... I don't know why you don't want to talk to me about it, but at least tell me... because I can't lose you, too... is this something... is there a possibility I might lose you because of this?"

“Never.” He shook his head vehemently. “You will never lose me, and especially not over all of this. You’re my best friend and I…” Dean stopped himself. After the emotional rollercoaster of a day they both had, the last thing either of them needed was to throw a wrench in the cogwork. “You won’t lose me, that much I can promise you.”

Cas gave him a hopeful look and took in a deep breath. “Okay…” Cas laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder, rubbing his thumb over the area that he had healed before. He scrunched up his nose. “I promise not to bite you anymore.”

Dean let out a soft chuckle. “I know this will kinda confirm your earlier comment about my behavior, but I like it, so don’t worry about it…”

Cas looked away for a moment. “I’m sorry I said that to you. I was just trying to get you to back off and I hurt you in the process. I don’t think of you like that. I hope you know that.”

“And I hope you know that when I offer to be there for you physically, it’s got nothin’ to do with being a martyr. I like having sex with you, so will you please, just stop trying to be strong or whatever you’re trying to do?”

Cas let out a defeated sigh. “Camael already scolded me about that.” He glanced up shyly. “Would you… sleep in my arms tonight?”

Dean pushed Cas down on the bed and moved to curl up against him, chest to chest. He smiled fondly at the angel, tracing circles on Cas’s exposed arm. “Can…” He hesitated, he didn’t want to continue to blur the lines of their friendship, but he was feeling particularly vulnerable in that moment. “Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

Cas’s smile was radiant. “You can have as many as you’d like.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Dean returned the smile as he pressed forward and closed the distance between them.

Chapter Text

Dean’s hair tickled at his nose when Cas woke up the next morning. He smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend’s body and kissed the crown of his head.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against the hair when Dean suddenly pulled back to look at him.

His eyes were cold. “Stop saying that. You don't even know what love is. You’re not even human.”

Cas stared at him, his eyes widening when blood trickled from Dean’s eyes and mouth.

“Dean, you're bleeding,” he whispered in shock.

Dean snorted. “No shit, Sherlock. You hurt me, or did you already forget? Just a matter of time before you lose it and kill me, like you killed all of them.”

Dean pointed at the floor and Cas followed the outstretched finger with his eyes. The floor was covered with dead bodies. Hundreds of copies of Dean’s dead body.

Cas gasped as he startled awake. Just a dream. His heart raced and it was difficult to breathe. Everything was okay… It was just a bad dream.

Dean reached out to Cas, voice sleep logged and confused when he asked, “What's going on?” He grasped at Cas’s shoulder blindly.

“Just a nightmare… I’m sorry I woke you,” Cas mumbled into his hand as he scrubbed them over his face to wake up.

Dean made some sort of affirming noise, before managing a groggy, “You okay?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

At that Dean appeared to wake up even more, he sat up against the headboard, eyes seemingly adjusting to the darkness. “C’mere.” His arms were open, an invitation for Cas to cuddle up against him.

Cas accepted the invitation gladly, needing the comfort that Dean was truly okay. He slid over into Dean’s arms, lying his head against the man’s shoulder. For a moment he closed his eyes and just tried to calm down his racing heart.

The hunter was rubbing soothing circles over his skin. “Wanna talk about it?”

His first instinct was to say no, but there were certain things Dean had a right to know. Maybe talking would even help so that Dean would have a better understanding of his current situation. Cas laid his hand on Dean’s arm, his fingers drawing shapes on his skin, while he tried to organize his thoughts. “I know it was just a dream, but it was mixed with real memories. There’s something I’ve never told you, Dean…”

He closed his eyes, his fingers were holding onto Dean now in a tight grip. “I’m sure you remember the time when Naomi controlled me.”

Dean scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain as he practially snarled, “How could I forget?”

“She knew, even with everything she had done to me, it would be difficult to force me to kill you. So, she trained me. She made thousands of copies of you, forcing me to kill you over and over until I didn’t hesitate anymore, that was the moment she sent me to you. I remember thousands of copies of your body lying dead at my feet and I can’t forget it. I… This situation right now… it feels like losing control over myself again… and I’m so afraid… that I could kill you this time.”

Dean was silent for a moment, continuing his comforting ministrations, before he finally asked, “You couldn’t kill me then, Cas, why would now be different?”

“A part of me was still conscious when Naomi controlled me. Your words still reached something in me. I’m not sure how much of me will be left, when this continues to get worse.”

“Is…” He seemed to hesitate. “There’s gotta be something we can do to, I don’t know, waylay it?”

Cas couldn’t stop the one thought from immediately popping into his mind when Dean asked the question. And even though it would be the perfect solution to their problem, not to mention would make him more than happy, he wasn’t going to suggest that to Dean. That would be going way too far.

So, he opted to answer with a half truth, “Being intimate with you helps a lot, Dean.”

“I know, but…” Dean repositioned himself, causing Cas to be pressed against the hunter’s chest now, the man’s left arm draped over his wings, while his right hand came to caress Cas’s cheek. “Sable said it’s possible for angels from Heaven to get control of their emotions here, that it’s hard, but it’s possible; there’s gotta be something we can do.”

“She is right, there’re lower classes of angels from Heaven who could stay here. That’s why Heaven has strict rules to only send Seraphs or warriors to interact with this realm. Heaven was worried that lower class angels would choose to stay. They aren’t fighters, so it’s easier for them to stay in control in this realm.”

“So, basically, you’re screwed?”

Cas raised his arm and carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “At least I have you.”

Dean pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Damn right you do.”

Cas felt his heart flutter at Dean’s words. He couldn’t stop the happy smile, so he hid his face in Dean’s shoulder before it could get awkward. He knew Dean just meant ‘having you as a friend’ not as a lover, but for a moment Cas pretended it was more.

The worst part was, even with the threat of turning savage looming over his head, a part of him didn’t want to leave Limbo. At least here he could have Dean. Back home everything would change.

“Is there a specific time we are supposed to meet with your new friends in Avaritia?” He hoped the change of topic would help him keep the sadness about the inevitable loss at bay.

Dean shrugged. “Not really, I’m guessin’ we’re following Camael and Kris to the next district?”

“I’ll make the arrangements then.” Cas tried to sit up on the bed before he changed his mind and cuddled back into Dean’s chest. “On the other hand, you are very comfortable.”

Dean chuckled. “It’s still dark, I’m not sure why you thought getting up was a good idea at all…”

“Force of habit, I think. I usually don’t get up. I just am. Sleeping is still… strange.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever slept as long as I do here, so if it makes you feel any better, it’s messin’ with me, too.”

Cas scrunched his nose at that thought. “No, it doesn’t… But I… I have to confess, I like the part of waking up next to you.”

“You wouldn’t say that back in our world. I’ve been told I hog the covers and have pretty wicked morning breath.” Dean chuckled.

Cas gave him a pointed look. “You really believe you could steal a blanket from me?”

“You may have superhuman strength, but you’ve never come up against a Winchester needing warmth…”

“I would never let you freeze as long as I’m at your side,” Cas said carefully. His heart ached with how much he wanted to keep this.

Dean let out a wistful sigh, before stroking his hand into Cas’s wings. “Too bad these bad boys won’t be visible in our realm. Who needs blankets when you have angel wings?”

Cas smiled, his wings flared up involuntarily and his smile morphed into a low chuckle. “First of all, just because they aren’t visible, doesn’t mean that they’re not there. And second of all, I’m very grateful I don’t have them visible all the time. They are very impractical. I constantly drag them on the ground and have to be careful not to hit anyone with them.”

“Point, but they’re still really cool.”

“Thank you.” Cas felt heat rising in his cheeks at the compliment, so he hid his face against Dean’s shoulder again, kissing him softly to conceal the fact he was blushing.

Dean was playing with a couple of his feathers, voice a little distant as he murmured, “They’re really pretty, Cas.”

Cas looked up at Dean with a worried expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just…” He let out a deep exhale. “Just trying to imprint them in my memory.”

It almost sounded like Dean would miss seeing his wings. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but… I can always make them visible, if I want to, on Earth.”

“You can?”

“Yes. I’ve just never done it because… well… keeping a low profile and… as I said, they’re impractical and…” Cas kissed Dean’s throat. “And I didn’t want to remind you how different I am from you.”

Dean tilted Cas’s head up and pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. “Hate to break it to ya’, but you don’t need wings to stand out.” His smile was warm.

Cas let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m well aware of that. Believe me, I’m working on it. Although, I have a feeling I’m getting better at blending in.”

“Blending in is overrated…”

Cas shrugged. “It’s helps with the job. I always count it as a win when I interview humans and they don’t look at me like I’m from another planet.”

“True, but it sure as hell makes those interviews more fun…” He chuckled, his tone fond.

Cas poked Dean’s side at an area he knew the hunter was sensitive. He gave him a smug grin as Dean made a funny noise and flinched away. “Fun for you, maybe.”

“Hey, man... It’s fun for Sam, too.” He smirked down at Cas.

Cas gave him a feigned hurt look before he poked him again. And because it was so funny to see how Dean tried to get away, he did it a few more times until the man was outright laughing and holding up his hands in a surrender. Cas shook his head. “You deserved that.”

Dean moved to curl against Cas, essentially reversing their positions. He draped his arm over Cas’s chest, a pensive edge to his tone as he said, “I’m gonna miss this…”

Cas pulled him closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into Dean’s hair. “I know you don’t believe me… but if you want to keep this, you can. I know I’m going to miss being with you like this, too.”

He could feel the heat of Dean’s deep exhale against his chest, followed by a mirthless chuckle. “I think you’re punchdrunk, maybe we should go back to sleep…”

Cas couldn’t be disappointed with Dean’s answer. For the first time he felt something akin to hope. If Dean would miss this, maybe somewhere at the end of the road there was hope for them. Maybe he just had to be patient, wait for them to return to Earth and prove to Dean that his feelings were real. He could wait. He was good at waiting.

He let his hands wander over Dean’s back. “I’m too awake to go back to sleep. Are you tired?”

“Not really.”

Cas bit his lip. “I wonder what we could do to kill time until sunrise…”

Dean chuckled. “You’re not even a little subtle, you know that, right?” He licked a swipe over Cas’s peck, tapping at his nipple. Dean pulled back and gave Cas a feigned look of innocence.

“And you’re not even a little innocent, Dean.” He poked Dean’s side again, just because he could.

Dean batted his eyelashes. “Oh, whatever do you mean?”

Cas chuckled and pulled Dean onto his lap before he pulled the hunter down for a tender kiss.

Dean arched upwards, grinding against Cas’s sex with a soft moan. “How, uh…” Followed by another moan. “How long can you stay… suspended… midair?”

Cas scrunched up his brow. “Why?”

“Think it's possible to have sex like that?” Dean’s eyes were hooded, a lascivious grin curled his lips upward. Heat coloring his cheeks, making usually subtle freckles stand out. He was beautiful. And the best part was that Cas finally believed that Dean really liked having sex with him.

Cas smiled thoughtfully. “I thought you didn’t like flying? I would need to get pretty high for that to work...”

“I don't like flying in metal death traps…” Dean kissed a trail up along Cas’s jaw, pulling his earlobe between his teeth. “So, is that a no?”

Cas put his hands under Dean's ass and pulled him close. "Put your arms around my neck."

Dean quirked his brow with a questioning look, but did as Cas told him. Cas stood up from the bed, carrying Dean in his arms towards the balcony.

The night was quiet and pleasantly warm, a million stars and a crescent moon illuminated the sky. "Do you trust me?"

Dean looked down at the ground below them, clearly nervous from the way his grip tightened. He looked back up and when their eyes locked the hunter whispered, “Yes.”

Cas gave him a reassuring smile and kissed him, before he stepped to the edge of the balcony. There was a marble balustrade that was waist high surrounding the small balcony and Cas could see that he didn't have enough space to spread his wings. He climbed on one of the seats and from there he stepped onto the table, followed by a careful step onto the parapet. He balanced his way until he was standing in the middle before he slowly unfolded his wings. "Don't be afraid. I would never let you fall."

Dean's arms wrapped around him tighter as he buried his face between Cas's shoulder and throat. "I know."

Too late.

Dean had accidentally prayed to him again, but by now Cas had learned not to mention those unintentional prayers. He didn't want Dean to get annoyed with him, asking about why he thought it was ‘too late’ when he hadn’t even started to fly yet.

Cas tensed his muscles and with one powerful wing beat, pushed them a few feet up in the air.

A few more beats of his wings brought them to a height where Cas felt comfortable staying, he just flapped his wings to hold their position. The city looked like a small round shape under them, illuminated by occasional streetlights. “Are you okay?” Cas asked carefully, when he noticed Dean looking down at the city.

“Is this real?” His voice breathless and in awe.

“Yes, I’m glad I can share this with you… especially since you can't remember the last time you flew with me.”

“I never remember, you just kind of… teleport us right?” Dean shivered slightly, pressing himself up against Cas.

“What you call teleporting is just really fast flying, but I don't mean those moments. When I rescued you from Hell, I flew slowly like this with you in my arms.”

Dean let out a breathy laugh. “You’d think if ever there was a time you should fly fast…”

Cas chuckled. “I was fast, but flying in Hell has certain limitations.” Cas captured Dean’s lips in a tender kiss, before he leaned back and gave him a sheepish look. “We forgot to bring the oil with us…”

The smile on Dean’s face was breathtaking, his features softening. “The idea was fun, but I’m honestly not sure how we were gonna make that work…”

Cas smiled back at him. “I don’t think I could manage to concentrate on flying anyway. You always feel so good. The bed is much safer.”

“You tell me this while we’re midair?” Dean shook his head, while readjusting his grip around Cas’s neck.

Cas grinned and kissed the tip of Dean’s nose. “I would never let anything happen to you. Do you want to go back to our room?”

Dean appeared contemplative for a moment, hair windswept, cheeks flushed, beautiful. “Maybe in a little bit…” He smiled at Cas then, a smile that spoke of trust and affection.

Cas knew that he would never love anything more than he loved Dean.

…. :::: :::: ….

Disney movie moments aside, being flown above the world in the arms of an angel was definitely something Dean would have never imagined possible in his lifetime. Not through all the bullshit he’s had comin’ at him since he was four years old. The hits never stopped, from losing any semblance of a normal life and childhood to a fire that claimed his home, his mother’s life, and his father’s sense of duty to his children; to losing his mother a second time, but by her own choice.

A life spent playing parent to his younger brother because their father had work to do. A life spent forged out of a lust for revenge and a holier than thou attitude when it came to creatures that aren’t human. For years, Sammy kept Dean human, kept him from crossing over into true psychopath territory, and then he left. He left and Dean was lost until a common fear brought them together again. Dad’s on a hunting trip and hasn’t been home in a few days.

Famous last words. And then he struggled to keep his own brother from the darkness that threatened to tear them apart from the inside out. He almost failed, almost. And then he was rescued, rescued from the darkest pits of Hell by an angel of the lord. An angel who has sacrificed everything he has ever known for them. For Dean. And finally he wasn’t forced to stay human, he wanted to; he didn’t want to take for granted the gift of a second chance.

The hits still kept coming, in the form of apocalypses, Leviathan, the Darkness, and now his brother being kidnapped, again. And the only time those hits actually hurt was when Cas got lost in the throes of duty or sacrifice. So, here they were, in a realm that was slowly devouring Castiel’s sense of self, all for the Winchesters.

How could he not have fallen in love with such a creature, one who puts his own life on the back burner for the one life in Dean’s existence that has always been his reason for living? Sam’s well being was just as important to Cas as his own. How could he ever give that up?

And now they were at a precipice, a steep rock face that loomed over a bottomless gulf of emotions. If he jumped, would Cas catch him? His heart screamed yes, but his brain, his ever so logical brain reminded him of why Cas shouldn’t. An angel of the lord; doesn’t understand emotions; doesn’t actually feel love; it’s just an influence of Limbo; or maybe he does feel love, but it’s a familial kind of love that he’s confusing with romantic love because of the overwhelming lust...

As Cas brought them back to the balcony and carefully deposited Dean to his feet, he was mesmerized by the beauty of everything. From the oranges and pinks of a sun starting to rise, the reds of Cas’s cheeks from the wind sweeping past, to the prismatic colors reflecting off of the surface of the giant pond beneath them. Dean was suddenly Dorothy, being immersed in a world of technicolor after years of the cold Kansas blacks and whites.

Dean felt drawn to Cas in that moment, an immovable force, as he inclined his head, their mouths coming together. Something changed between them, they had kissed before, but not like this. Not where Dean was becoming enlightened to all of the knowledge of the universe in a shared moment of intimacy that took his breath away. A moment where he was astonished by everything that is, was, and could be. He’d never felt more safe.

They stood like that, silently watching the sun rise in an embrace, until one of Barachiel’s house slaves came in to inform them the litters would be arranged within the hour to carry them to the next district. Dean smiled at Cas. “Thank you for this, Cas. Thank you for everything,” he whispered.

…. :::: :::: ….

They didn’t have sex that morning and still Cas felt happy and content. Somehow, he had the feeling that after everything they had been through, they managed to grow closer.

After a quick chat with Camael, who had told him that they would meet up with Buer at Avaritia’s marketplace, Cas and Dean had quickly gotten cozy in the semi privacy of their litter.

Cas loved having Dean curled up against him, feeling how relaxed his body felt against his. The morning had been wonderful, watching the sunrise… Dean probably wouldn’t admit it, but it had been very romantic. His hope that, whatever was happening between them, could develop into something more permanent, had never been as high as it had in that moment.

He carded his fingers through Dean’s hair. “I could do this all day.”

Dean hummed in agreement. “I could let you…”

Cas smiled and kissed Dean’s forehead. “I’m surprised that you like this so much… but then again… I’ve never really seen you with somebody before. I guess with all the violence in your life, I suppose I didn’t expect… this… It’s nice.”

“I’m kind of a walkin’ cliché when you think about it. Starved for affection my whole life, mess of daddy issues, traumatic shit; I probably should have ended up a stripper or a pro…” He chuckled.

“And yet you ended up a hero, saving the world. You have so much strength in you; I know you don’t always see that, but you’re an incredible human being.” Cas smiled before he kissed the tip of Dean’s ear.

Dean shoved at Cas. “You’re really corny, you know that?” His red tinged cheeks belying his true feelings regarding the compliment.

Cas wanted to see that reaction more often.

Avaritia was a sea of white, with the gorgeous stone carvings from the elaborate and large steps to accommodate wings of angels to various tombs and temples that stood in stark contrast to the smaller markets and baths. Of all of the districts, it was, by far, the cleanest; not only in actual cleanliness, but in its architectural design. Sharp and crisp lines, perfectly symmetrical and clean stone and marble, very few imperfections could be found.

The center of the open plaza was ornamented with four iron sculptures, blacksmithed in sharp lines and divots that held up large stone basins that were used for oil light at night. There was a flurry of activity, from different humans and angels setting up blankets with merchandise and food items to be purchased or bargained for; to different characters conducting business in the shadows of the pillars of the temples.

The litters were carried beneath the shade of the overhanging ceiling of a pantheon, before finally being lowered to the ground. Cas stepped out of his litter, Dean in tow at his chain. Camael nodded to the center of the plaza, Buer was standing there with her Quasahi, a stern and annoyed look on her face. He followed Camael as they approached, eyebrow quirked as his companion exchanged pleasantries with her.

She turned to acknowledge Cas, but made no attempt at greeting him verbally or otherwise.

“I had hoped that our paths wouldn’t cross again. Especially if my suspicion is true and you’re the reason Zagan has an eye on me,”  Cas stated instead of greeting the female angel.

Buer shrugged nonchalantly. “You’re dangerous. My duty is to protect the souls coming here and you were prying into my territory. I had to do something.”

Cas glared at the red headed angel, but she just smiled at him and said matter-of-factly, “I’m not apologizing if you’re waiting for that. I still don’t trust you.”

“I think you should maybe stop judging me in light of the recent events concerning your ‘hobby’.” Cas’s wings spread out threateningly before he could control it.

Buer stepped in front of him, her chin held high. “I’m doing what’s necessary. Contrary to you, I don’t enjoy killing.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Anyway I don’t really care what you do here. I’m just interested in getting my friend back. So if you can help us find him, it would be appreciated.” Cas hoped if he changed the topic he could get his emotional turmoil under control. The fact that Buer neither showed any respect or fear towards him only fueled his desire to hurt her. He had to remind himself that the female angel wasn’t his enemy. She was actually on their side. But she made it really hard for him to like her.

“Maybe you should start caring? You actually would have power and respect in Limbo, but you only choose to use it to gain a personal advantage,” she spoke in English deliberately now, so Dean could understand her.

“I don’t have the luxury to care. This isn’t my plane. It’s yours. I care about the souls on Earth. The rules are there for a reason, Buer. Just imagine for one second, another angel from Heaven coming here to use his power for his personal advantage. A lot of angels from Heaven don’t have the same feelings about humanity that I have. Believe me, you don’t want us to interfere.”

Buer glared at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You already interfered when you killed Asmode–”

Cas’s wings flared up as he stepped in front of her. “Don’t you dare finish your sentence! If you really have any love for humans, you should be glad that I killed him. And just so we don’t misunderstand each other. I will rip this realm apart if I have to, if it helps me find Sam.”

“Don’t threaten me, Castiel! I don’t care who you are. If you do anything that will endanger Coraxo, I won’t hesitate to find a way to kill you.”

Cas reached for his angel blade, but was halted by a hand on his wrist.

“Cas, look at me.”

Cas turned around, his heart was beating too fast and he started to feel dizzy. Dean’s green eyes were full of concern. He gave a comforting squeeze to his wrist and whispered, “Gassagen In.”

Cas took in a few deep breaths and tried to calm down. He touched Dean’s forehead with his index and middle finger and drew a half circle to his cheek. He was overwhelmed with his feelings for Dean, so much so that he whispered the next words without thinking, “Olani Hoath Ol.”

Dean gasped, eyes darting across the angel’s face, a beat of heavy anticipation, and finally a soft, “Ol Abai.”  He cast his eyes downward, whether in his role as a slave, or terrified of Cas’s reaction, he couldn’t be certain.

For a moment it felt like his heart had stopped beating. Every thought had come to a screeching halt. His mind was empty and all he could do was stare at Dean.

Dean loved him, too.

That couldn’t be true. He was probably telling Cas what he wanted to hear. That must be it. Dean simply wanted to calm him down, because he had been on the verge of doing something stupid. That explanation made much more sense than… well… what that soft confession implied. And yet… he hoped the hunter’s words were true.

It felt right. But he could never trust his intuitions, especially in Limbo.

A sudden commotion startled him out of his thoughts and he turned around. Five angels in armor lead by Zagan had entered the market place and strode directly towards him. Cas shared a confused look with Camael before he faced Buer with a questioning expression. The female angel looked worried, slowly shaking her head to show him that she had no idea what was happening.

Zagan smiled at Cas when he stopped right in front of him. “I’m here to arrest you, Castiel. My order comes directly from the Dominator of Avaritia. You’re in his district now and he believes it is time you answer some questions.”

“How convenient for you.” Cas rolled his eyes.

Zagan’s smile widened. “I know. I’ve waited long for this moment. Please do me a favor and resist your arrest.”

Cas raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I will come with you. Just know that this will have consequences for you. I’ve tried to warn you. Everything that will happen to you later will be the result of your own making.”

Zagan laughed. “Spare me your threats. There is nothing you can do to me. Oh, and your Quasahi will stay here. We don’t want you to have any accommodations.”

Cas knew that Zagan was trying to rile him up. Separating him from Dean would mean he had no way to control his emotions. If he lost it, Zagan would have the perfect excuse for an execution.

Camael stepped next to Cas. “You can’t do that, Zagan. He needs his Quasahi.”

Zagan shrugged. “I’m counting on that. And luckily for me, I can. I’m not arresting him for the suspicion of becoming a savage, I’m arresting him because he’s a suspect in two murder cases. Since both murders were clean kills, I can take him in without his Quasahi.”

Cas turned around to Camael. “Please protect him as long as I’m gone… And if I don’t come back, make sure he gets back to where he belongs.”

Camael nodded. “Of course.”

Cas gave Dean a long look, shaking his head slightly to signal him to not interfere or say anything. “Go with Camael. He will look after you. I’ll come back as soon as I’m able.”

Dean nodded, looked around at everyone staring at the scene before them, before appearing to make a decision. He gently pulled Cas forward into a hug, pressing his lips to Cas’s ear and whispered, “Pretend I’m there…” It was all he managed before Camael yanked Dean back by his chain.

Cas nodded tersely and turned around to Zagan again. “I’m ready. We can go.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Fuck Limbo. Fuck Zagan. Fuck angels. Fuck everybody. Dean was so done with this place. Camael grabbed his chain and escorted him and Kristoff as they followed Buer and Sable into some side building behind the pantheon their litters were parked. Through the doorway was a deep stairwell curving in a dizzying circle downwards.

The further they got beneath ground, the cooler the air got. Once they got to a ground level area with a door, Camael and Buer removed all of their chains before escorting them into another section of Coraxo. This area was a lot more secluded than in Acedia. Buer pulled them into a privatized tent, something straight out of a civil war movie, before drawing the flap closed.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s going on…”

“Damn right I am! Was that your guys’ goal? Frame Cas for your bullshit power play killings to get the heat off yourselves for whatever you’re doing here?”

Kristoff approached him, hand extended as though trying to calm a feral animal. “Dean-o...”

Dean recoiled. “No! I am sick and fucking tired of this bullshit realm! My brother gets kidnapped and my best friend has the fucking decency to try and save him, but we have to abide by your stupid rules and protocols, fucking acting the part of master and slave to keep the attention off us, and to what end? He gets arrested and…” Dean slammed his hands against the wooden table in the center of the tent, simultaneously wincing and appreciating the sharp pain.

Buer crossed her hands over her chest, eyebrow quirked in disapproval. “If you’re finished with your temper tantrum, I’d be happy to explain to you what’s going on…”

Dean huffed out a mirthless laugh as he waved his hand in an exaggerated gesture. “Enlighten me.”

“I’m responsible for the deaths Castiel is being accused of, not out of an attempt at framing him, he just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. There is an underground ring of traders who are illegally obtaining souls from Earth and Purgatory for a plethora of unsavory purposes…”

Dean scoffed. “More unsavory than raping disobedient humans?”

At that, Buer and Camael looked chagrined, before Kristoff interjected, “Not all of the angels here are like that, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you guys might not do the raping, but you sure as hell stand by and watch it happen, because there are rules. Fuck you, and fuck your rules.”

Buer’s wings flared out, clearly angry, and Camael halted her as she stepped forward, whispering something to her in Enochian. He didn’t catch all of it, but he did catch something about belonging to Castiel. Camael turned to Dean then. “Your anger is righteous and none of us will disagree with you regarding the rules of this plane; but in order to dismantle an anomic society, we have to tear it down from within. There are plans in place, and unfortunately Castiel got caught in the middle of it all. Zagan can only keep him detained for twenty four hours, because he has nothing with which to persecute him…”

Dean let out an aggravated sigh. “And what will they do to him if he loses it and kills Zagan?”

“That's why you weren't kept at his side. Zagan is hoping he'll do exactly that so they can persecute him for turning savage; which is within the laws of our realm. At this point, the targeting of Castiel is personal.” Camael spoke with an air of sadness.

“And if he does go savage?” Dean’s voice cracked, hoping to hell the answer wasn't what he was dreading.

“He’ll be put to death.”

Dean let out a choked sound somewhere between a bitter laugh and an almost sob. He shook his head. “Fuck this.”

He swept out of the tent and stormed towards the door they'd come in; halted by a gentle hand on his elbow as he reached for the handle.

It was Kristoff. “Where are you going?” he asked.

“I'm gonna get Cas.”

“And how do you intend to do that? You don't even know where they took him…”

Fuck. He had a point. “Then tell me!”

Kris shook his head. “You know I can't do that, Dean-o. You'll compromise yourself as well as everything we've worked towards. Do you have such little faith in your Monon?”

Dean let out a sigh before sinking to the floor in defeat. “I can't lose him…”

“Then don't.” He bent forward and held his hand toward Dean to take. “Come, we have news on your brother’s possible location.”

Dean reluctantly took the younger man’s hand. He sent a silent prayer to Cas as he walked back to the tent.

Cas, please stay strong, I need you to come back to me.

…. :::: :::: ….

The cell was dark, cold and wet, and it smelled terrible. Zagan had hit him a few times while they had him chained to an iron chair, but Cas managed to remain calm. He had closed himself up in his mind, replaying his last few minutes with Dean over and over.

At some point he almost had to wonder if it had been a dream. Maybe he hadn’t heard it right, because if Dean meant what he said... how could Cas be so lucky; how could this be real? He so desperately needed to believe it was real, otherwise there would be nothing he could hold on to, to keep himself anchored. There would be no reason to fight.

He barely registered Zagan entering his cell with two other angels in tow. Zagan had a silvery long stick in his hand that he was dragging over the stone floor. Cas suppressed a cringe. He knew the weapon. It had the potential to irreparably damage an angel.

Cas tilted his head, schooling his face into a calm demeanor. “I know what you’re planning, but it won’t work. You won’t break me in twenty four hours. And after your failure you will face the consequences.”

Instead of answering, Zagan struck him in the face with the stick. It wasn’t very painful, which meant it was likely the other angel had done it to make a point.

Cas tried to bury himself in his mind. He tried to concentrate on all of the times he woke up next to Dean, how close they had been, the lazy kisses they had traded. How happy he had felt in those moments.

Zagan shouted questions at him, but it was all a blur. White noise in the background. He could hear his blood rushing in his ear, accompanied by the loud beating of his heart. Spikes of pain rushed through his body, but with every hit, his mind simply conjured a memory of another intimate moment with Dean; one of the many kisses they had shared since their arrival to Limbo.

Time slowly began to evaporate in a haze of pain, causing him to lose his grasp of it. The growing tidal wave of violent emotions began to seethe in his heart. They wanted to break free.

Cas, please stay strong, I need you to come back to me.

Dean’s pleading words were the extra chains needed to keep his emotions in check. Cas refused to give in. The countless times that Dean had called him pig-headed, now he was more than determined to prove just how stubborn he could really be. They had just found each other. There was no way in Hell he was going to give that up again.

And suddenly the pain stopped. The other angels whispered something to Zagan and with a fierce growl, the investigator left the cell with his companions, slamming the door shut behind them.

Cas was alone in the dark. He wondered what time it was.

The pain from all of his wounds hit him out of nowhere like a tidal wave. He groaned as he started to realize the extent of the damage Zagan had inflicted upon his body. Both of his arms were broken, a few ribs, too. He was bleeding everywhere. Since the damage was inflicted with an angelic weapon, he wouldn’t be able to heal the wounds on his own.

It was only a matter of time before he was free again. Camael could probably heal him. Time was on his side and running against Zagan. The investigator had probably thought it would be easy to shove Cas into a savage state. And if he had arrested him a day earlier, he might have been successful, but now…

Dean had saved him with those two simple words without even knowing it. He had to talk to him somehow. He could feel Dean’s longing as a constant presence in the back of his mind. When it grew stronger he almost expected Dean to start praying again, but the feeling vanished quickly after a few minutes. He must have fallen asleep.

Cas concentrated on his friend’s mind and carefully slipped inside Dean’s dream.

He wasn’t surprised to find himself in the bunker. Dean was singing one of his favorite songs while he stood in the kitchen, making burgers. The kitchen was Cas’s favorite place in the bunker. Being there gave him the feeling of being part of the family.

“Hello, Dean,” he said carefully, so as to not startle Dean.

“Cas!” he cried out and dropped what he was doing to approach him, immediately pulling him into a hug. “Am I dreaming this or is this real?”

“Both. You’re dreaming, but I’m really here.” Cas wrapped his arms around him to keep Dean close, he never wanted to let go off him. “Are you okay? Did Camael get you to Coraxo?”

Dean drew back to cup Cas’s face. “I’m fine, are you okay? You haven’t murdered Zagan, right? You’re not here to tell me goodbye?”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me. I don’t think I’m in danger of losing control as long as I’m there. I want to come back to you.”

Dean looked skeptical. “You sure? You almost attacked Buer when she brought up Asmodeus, not that I don’t have faith, but I don’t want to lose you…”

“You won’t… Remember what you said to me shortly before I got arrested? That is what gives me the strength to fight this. Nothing will keep me from coming back to you.”

The smile on the hunter’s face was utterly timid and wholly beautiful. “Really?”

Cas reached for Dean’s cheek, stroking his thumb over it. “Really. I love you. I will always come back. I want to be with you.”

“I swear if you turn into Lucifer, I’ll fucking lose my shit…”

“It’s really me, Dean. I know dream walking can be confusing for a human, but I can assure you, it’s me. And I will tell you all the things I just said, in person, once I’m free again.”

Dean pulled him forward, crashing their lips together in a flurry of need and love. This was what poets wrote about, the intensity of a moment like this. He had never known that emotions could be so immensely fulfilling; they tended to be messy and hurtful things, but this? This irretrievable force of love and wave of affection he felt for and from Dean? Shakespeare would have wept.

Dean pulled back, eyes hooded and pupils blown. “How long do we have?”

“Time is relative in dreams,” Cas breathed out before he really thought about the question. “I mean, until you wake up. So, don’t wake up any time soon, okay?”

He chuckled. “If I get woken up, I’ll murder whoever does it…”

Cas grinned. “I would, too, but it has to wait until I’m free.” He walked Dean backwards against the kitchen table and started to unbutton his shirt with quick, steady fingers before he pushed it from Dean’s shoulders. His friend was already opening Cas’s shirt, pulling the loosened tie out of shirt collar when they kissed each other again. Tender kisses and the sounds of their moans filled the spaces around them, the utter pleasure and swelling of love he felt in that moment was almost too much to bear.

“Here or your bed, Dean?” Cas murmured against kissed red lips.

“Couldn't give two fucks,” he growled as he trailed his tongue down Cas’s neck.

Cas moaned and tilted his head to give him more access to his throat. In a flash, they were lying naked on Dean’s bed in the bunker. Dean stopped kissing him for a moment to give him a confused look.

“You’re dreaming,” Cas offered as an explanation.

“Awesome.” Dean grinned before he kissed him again and turned them around on the bed so he was on top of Cas. He gave him an audacious smile. “This means we’re free to do whatever we want, right?”

Cas nodded, wondering what Dean had in mind. He watched him as he leaned over, reaching into his nightstand after opening the drawer, smiling when he retrieved a purple bottle.

The questioning look on his face must have been obvious because Dean gave him a warm smile before he captured his lips in a soft kiss, their lips barely touching. “Remember your little confession?”

Cas’s heart stumbled when he realized what Dean was asking. For a moment the only sound in Dean's room was their shallow breathing. Cas finally nodded. "Yes."

It wasn't just the answer to Dean's question, but also his expressed permission.

Dean kissed him again, every nip and tender brush of his lips having a wondrous calming effect on his nerves. Cas didn't know why he felt so nervous. Maybe it was because, on some level, he was still afraid that he wouldn’t be able to keep Dean like this. The thought of making himself vulnerable was utterly terrifying.

In the end, giving in to this, giving himself so completely, it was about trust. And he wanted to trust Dean.  

Head propped against one of the pillows of his friend’s bed, he focused on his breathing to keep the hammering of his heart in check. Cas couldn’t hold back the soft gasp when he felt Dean’s slick finger gently stroking at his entrance. It already felt overwhelmingly good, especially when Dean’s other hand carded through his hair as he sidled up against him, leaving a hot trail of kisses along his throat.

Dean pushed his finger against him, a damnable circular motion that felt incredible. When his lips returned to Cas’s mouth, licking his lower lip and capturing it between his teeth for a moment, he groaned.

Dean drew back. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Cas hummed against Dean’s lips, trying to sound reassuring.

He could practically hear the smile on his friend’s face. “I can’t wait to do this again, for real.”

Cas was overwhelmed with happiness. He finally understood why Anna had chosen to fall, and why humans wrote so many books and songs about love. It felt incredible. Like he could do anything, like half of his problems had vanished, because he knew Dean would shoulder the rest. As though they were one person, instead of two; someone he could always rely on for any and everything.

He gasped when Dean finally pushed his finger into him. The intrusion felt weird at first, but when Dean smiled at him, all he could think of was that this was Dean. And he couldn’t wait to feel him completely. He couldn’t wait to be claimed as his, like Cas had done.

The soft and tender way Dean worked him open started to make him giddy with anticipation. His skin tingled all over and he felt on the verge of losing all remaining patience, and even his sanity, if Dean proceeded to continue at such an infuriatingly slow pace. "Dean, please. I'm not fragile," he groaned, sounding more like a plea than a command.

Dean leaned back and grinned. "Never realized you could be so impatient."

Cas gave him a pleading look, he needed to feel Dean. "Please."

Adding a second finger, he hooked them upward and brushed his prostate. Cas arched upwards, back curling as he tried to chase the unexpected sensations. It was all too much and, at the same time, not enough. He buried his face into the crook of Dean's elbow, eyes slammed shut. "This feels so incredible."

He could feel Dean's lips curving into a smile against his throat before he kissed him. "I know. Can't wait to be inside you."

When Dean slipped in a third digit and was able to finger him without any difficulty, he must have finally decided Cas was prepared enough. Stroking some lube over his cock, Dean positioned himself between his legs. "Cas, look at me."

He didn't anticipate seeing such a level of pure happiness on Dean's face, he couldn't even remember if he had ever seen his friend appear so carefree and happy. Dean wrapped his arms around him as he carefully pushed in.

Cas’s brain short-circuited then, having completely lost the ability to think, process, work. The world was reduced to sounds and sensations; this glorious feeling of DeanDeanDean.

In every way imaginable, he could feel Dean. Wrapped around him, filling him… Completing him in a way he had always yearned for, but never realized was what had been missing… until now.

Cas got lost in Dean's kisses, in the feeling of his body rocking against him like waves of an ocean. Every time they met, it felt like an explosion of pleasure.

He knew he was close, two different desires tearing at each other when he felt the overwhelming need to come battling the need to make this feeling last forever.

Dean’s tongue teased at his lips, before delving in, wrestling against each other. The dual sensations causing his pleasure to coil up like a spring, getting tighter and tighter. When Dean drew back for a brief moment, never losing rhythm, he was breathing hard and fast. He rested his forehead against Cas's. "Fuck, Cas. I'm so close."

He tried to nod, which was proving quite difficult as the shockwaves of pleasure shuddered through him. Cas managed a shaky, "Please... I need you..." In between the moans falling from his lips.

Dean stroked his hand through Cas's hair as he looked at him, impossibly green eyes full of love. His other hand grabbed Cas's erection between their bodies and started to stroke it in time with his thrusts.

The orgasm blindsided him, despite the drawn out build up. Cas gasped, his eyes never leaving Dean's as he painted his lover’s hand with his release.

"Fuck..." Dean cursed as he gripped Cas's hip with his free hand and drove his cock into him, hard and fast a few more times before, finally, the Earth stuttered on its axis and he came.

They both were having problems trying to get their breathing under control. Dean was staring at him like he still couldn't believe how intense and incredible it had been. The hunter slowly pulled out, sliding to lay on his side next to Cas, one of his legs still entangled between both of his own. Dean laughed as he touched the angel’s forehead. “You weren’t kidding, were you?”

Cas traced a tender circle from Dean’s cheek to his forehead with a dazed but confused smile. “What do you mean?”

“You don't sweat.” Dean smiled fondly.

“As long as my grace is at full power, no, I don’t.”

“So, you weren’t just hitting on Mick?” Dean gave him a cavalier wink.

Cas gave him a confused look, wondering why Dean had gotten that impression. “I was stating a fact. Why would I–” Cas raised an eyebrow before he smiled. “Were you jealous?”

Dean visibly bristled. “That smarmy asshole gave you his number, and you took it. Who am I to assume you weren’t interested? And shut up, I don’t do jealous.”

Cas couldn’t stop the widening of his smile. “You were jealous.”

“Shut up, no I wasn’t.”

Cas leaned over and kissed Dean before he leaned back, smile still in place. “You're the only person I'm interested in.”

“I'm the only person here, Cas…” The hunter’s eyes twinkled in amusement.

Cas rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying, that there is no competition.” He nudged his nose against Dean’s shoulder, gave him a wide eyed look, and mumbled, “And also… finders keepers.”

Dean chuckled. “Did you just call dibs on me?”

Cas grinned and nodded. “I did. Did it work?”

“You don't have any right being adorable,” Dean chastised, his tone soft.

Giving his friend his most innocent look, he asked, “Why?”

Dean flicked his nose. “Uh, uh. Bad angel. Stop it. Stop being cute.”

Cas hid his face in the crook of Dean’s neck and kissed him to conceal his smile. “How would you make me stop?”

Dean appeared contemplative for a moment. “Well, I could threaten to withhold sex, but fuck that.” He shrugged. “I got nothin’, let the cuteness commence…”

Cas couldn’t help but chuckle as he continued kissing down Dean’s collarbone, to his shoulder. He really loved being with Dean like this. But reality was pulling at the edges of his mind and he knew what that meant. He looked up, unable to keep the sadness he was feeling out of his tone. “You’re waking up.”

“How do you know?” Dean looked around, seemingly unsure of what it was Cas saw or felt.

“I can feel it. We will see each other again tonight.”

Dean clutched onto Cas. “Promise me.”

“Of course, Dean. Also could you tell Camael to come? He might need to heal me.”

“What do you mean? What happened?” His tone was laced with concern and anger.

Cas gave him a pointed look. “Zagan tried his best to get me to break. Don’t worry about it. Time is working against him.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill him,” Dean growled.

Cas kissed him. “Don’t worry. He will face consequences for this.”

Dean shook his head. “You know, if I wasn’t totally in love with–”

Cas was back in his cell and the pain hit him immediately. Cas tried to get his breathing under control as he looked around. He was alone. It probably wouldn’t be long before Zagan came back and continued his attempts to break him.

But that didn’t matter. Cas knew he would make it through. He would have loved to hear the rest of Dean’s sentence, but deep down he knew what Dean was about to say. He had felt it every time they had been together. And although everything hurt and their situation was ‘fucked up’ at best, he felt happy for the first time in his life.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean was shaken awake, he groggily blinked his eyes open to come face to face with Kristoff. The younger man released his shoulders. “Thank God, you kept moaning and making these freakin’ sex noises. I almost shoved you off the cot.”

Blearily, Dean took in his surroundings. He wasn’t at home, in bed with Cas. He was staying in an underground makeshift cottage, sharing a cot with Kristoff like twelve year olds at a slumber party. Dean looked down and noticed the obvious stain on his tunic. Apparently, he really was a twelve year old boy.

Dean groaned, wincing in embarrassment. “Uh… Dude, could you, uh…”

Kristoff looked down and when he noticed the obvious issue Dean was having, he let out a shared groan. “Seriously? You had a wet dream? Are you just hitting puberty?”

“Shut up, dick, and get me a towel.”

The younger man scoffed. “You know you don’t actually outrank me, right?”

Dean laughed. “Dude, just grab me a towel. Or do you want me to get this all over your damn cot?”

“Alright! Stupid ass, freakin’ prima donna, wet dream having…”

Dean grabbed Kristoff’s pillow and threw it at his retreating form. The younger man made a rude hand gesture before he continued to mumble all of the different insults he had for Dean. After a beat, a wet towel made contact with his face. “Dick!”

Kris chuckled. “That’s right, now clean yours so we can go back to sleep.”

Chapter Text

The angel next to Zagan cringed slightly before finally grabbing a hold of his elbow, ending the series of punches he had proceeded to deliver. “It’s over. You have to stop.”

Cas would have loved to give Zagan a smug smile, but everything hurt, so he had to wait patiently until everything was over. Zagan left the room, muttering a few curse words and another angel unlocked the chains around Cas’s wrists and ankles.

The angel gave him an apologetic look. “Master Camael is waiting outside to retrieve you. Do you want me to let him in?”

Cas nodded and took in a deep breath. He had made it through the past twenty four hours. Something he would have never been able to accomplish without Dean’s help, without the knowledge that he loved him back. Now if Camael could just heal him so he could see Dean again, everything would be fine.

He didn’t anticipate that Dean would be with Camael when the older angel entered his cell.

“Cas?” he cried out before immediately darting to his side. He gently grasped Cas’s face, looking him over for the plethora of visible injuries. “What the fuck did they do to you?” The hunter was visibly shaking, he could feel the anger emanating off of him.

“Nothing that Camael can’t heal. Don’t worry. I’ll be okay in a moment.”

Dean nodded, stepping away to let Camael take over, but staying close enough that his hand remained on Cas’s shoulder.

“Hello, old friend. You have looked better,” Camael greeted him as he touched his forehead to heal him. It took more than a few seconds, wounds from angelic weapons were always more tricky to heal, but eventually Cas felt them closing and the bonds being mended, back into place.

He sighed in relief when the pain subsided. “Thank you, Camael. That was unpleasant.”

Before the other angel could respond, he was yanked downwards, Dean having fallen to his knees in front of him. Arms wrapped tightly around his neck, Dean trailed a series of kisses to every inch of his face he could reach. After a beat the hunter drew back, a relieved smile on his face. “You good now, Cas?”

“Perfect.” Cas smiled. “It would be even more perfect if we could leave this place immediately.”

Camael tapped Cas’s shoulder. “I’ve already made an appointment with the Dominator of Avaritia. I’m sure you want to thank him for his hospitality over the last twenty four hours.”

Cas nodded. “I’m looking forward to it, thank you.” He looked back at Dean with a raised eyebrow. “Ready to go?”

“In a minute…” Dean stood up. “I’m gonna go murder Zagan first.”  

Cas grabbed his shoulder and pulled Dean against his chest. “I can’t let you do that, but I appreciate the sentiment. Let me deal with it.”

The hunter turned to face him, an actual pout on his face before he batted his eyelashes in feigned innocence. “Please, can I kill him? I’ll be quick.”

“Death would be a very easy out for him and I have a punishment planned that is better suited. And above all, it won’t get you or me into anymore trouble.”

Dean let out a sigh of acquiescence. “Fine. But if I see that fucker again, I can’t be held responsible for my actions…”

“You will see him again when he gets punished.” Cas grinned at Camael as the other angel responded with a rare smile. When he looked back at Dean, he winked at him. “Let’s go. I really want to visit Coraxo before we meet up with Amon. And I want to hear if you’ve made any progress on our search for Sam. But we shouldn’t talk about that here.”

Dean nodded. “Just one more thing, though…” Before Cas could ask what, Dean pulled him forward into a kiss, replete with desperation and absolute, unending relief.

Camael cleared his throat. “We should leave.”

Cas reluctantly pulled back and touched Dean’s forehead, drawing a half circle to his cheek.

Dean reciprocated by placing his index and middle fingers to Cas’s cheek, drawing a half circle up to his forehead.

Camael held Dean’s silver leash out to Cas with a pointed look, at which he rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard you…”

Camael shook his head. “Well, I’m not one to stand between young love, but time is of the essence and we don’t want to have people overhear your heartfelt reunion.”

“You’re right.” Cas gave Dean another longing look before he turned around, taking in a deep breath, leaving the cell and all of the pain behind him.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dean had to refrain from grinning like an idiot as they made their way to Coraxo. Considering he was currently being walked like a dog, to get more information on his brother’s kidnapping; he probably shouldn’t be feeling as happy as he was. But, damnit, after all the bullshit, after everything they had been through, he couldn’t help but grasp onto the happiness he was feeling, by the metaphorical horns.

Cas loved him. He loved Cas. While the circumstances surrounding the progress in their relationship was less than ideal, it still happened, and he was going to be damn grateful for it. All of the other fears, concerns, and bullshit could wait until after they rescued Sam and got back to Earth.

Once inside the tunnel that led to one of the entrances to the underground metropolis, Cas halted their movement to unhook Dean’s chain. His hand lingered at the collar, fingers gently stroking Dean’s neck. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the angel’s cheek. “Come on, Angel.”

Cas smiled and nodded before they continued their trek deeper into the tunnels. Camael opened the door for them when they arrived and led them to the secluded makeshift cottage Dean had spent the previous night.

Buer, Sable, a couple of slaves, and another angel he didn’t recognize were all seated around the table in the makeshift parlor. Cas took a seat next to Camael, and Dean chose the seat next to him, sneaking his hand under the table to hold on to Cas’s. They shared a shy smile.

“Gross, can you guys stop with the heart eyes for a minute?” Kristoff asked, tone amused and only slightly disgusted.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Awww, you’re just sayin’ that cuz you’re gonna miss spooning with me…”

The younger slave scoffed and made a rude hand gesture at him, whereas Cas squinted his eyes in confusion. Damn. Dean was incredibly, utterly stupid for the guy.

“Should I be concerned? Just because you don’t ‘do jealousy’, doesn’t mean that I don’t.”

Kris let out a bark of laughter. “No worries, Castiel. You can keep that neanderthal.”

“Hey! I’m a delight!” Dean chuckled at the eye roll before turning to Cas. “No, you really shouldn’t be concerned.” He smiled and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Cas’s lips.

Sable cleared her throat. “And on that note, let’s get to business shall we? Your brother is most likely in one of three areas. Two of which are relatively easy to gain access to, and the third…”

Dean sighed. “The third?”

Kris made a face that belied his discomfort. “Let’s just hope he’s in one of the other two…”

Cas gave both of them a questioning look. “How sure are you that Sam isn’t in one of the ‘official’ stocks of one of the slave traders in the city?”

Camael folded his hands on the table. “I know every trader in Avaritia, Invidia, and Ira. They stick to the law of harmony and wouldn’t take illegal souls. If he is in one of those districts, then it has to do with illegal business. We don’t need to search through official channels.”

Cas gave Camael a concerned look. “What about the arena in Ira? Barbatos didn’t always stick to the rules when it came to acquiring monsters for his games.”

Camael took in a deep breath. “You’re right. But since he’s become the Dominator of Ira he has changed his policy. Not so much regarding monsters, but definitely regarding human souls.”

Cas appeared surprised the way his eyebrows shot up. “How does someone like him even get to be a dominator in the first place?”

Camael shrugged and exchanged a look with Buer who hadn’t said anything since they had arrived. “It took everyone by surprise, really. He was suddenly named by his predecessor, completely out of the blue.”

Cas’s surprise morphed into confusion. “Okay.... Good for him, I suppose? Do you think he plays by the rules?”

It was the first time Buer spoke up, “I wouldn’t go that far, but he is harmless and still hard to take serious. We mostly just ignore him.”

Dean shook his head. As much fun as the gab sesh was, he was getting annoyed by the tangent. “Can we get back to where Sammy might be?”

Kris laughed. “Well, he’s either here, being used as supplemental labor at the most notorious fabric manufacturer. Is being used as a stud at the breeding ranch in Invidia, or…”

“Or…” Dean prompted, the first two options didn’t sound like a damn picnic, the hairs on the back of his neck started to rise. He didn’t like the air dangling between them and what that implied.

Sable rolled her eyes at Kristoff’s flair for the dramatic. “Or he’s dead.”

“Hey!” Kristoff chastised her. “You don’t know that yet!”

Dean stood up, emphasizing his frustration with his hands. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Kristoff softened his tone and said, “Vendingo Fighting rings, there’s rumor that they’ve started up again…”

Cas gasped, which just caused Dean to get even angrier. “What the fuck is that?”

“It’s an outrage, something we try to stop, but it’s very hard to find the locations to shut those operations down. They pit human souls against ones from Purgatory, in a fight... “ Buer let out an annoyed sigh. “To the death.”

Sable crossed her arms over her chest. “Exactly. If he was taken there, he’s probably already dead.”

“Sable! You don’t know that!” Kristoff argued.

As they continued to bicker over just how dead his brother might or might not be, Dean could feel himself start to lose control of his temper. If Sam was dead, God fucking help the remaining bastards of this realm. Dean slammed his hands against the table, the harsh crack stunning the table to silence. With everyone’s attention, he exhaled slowly and said, ever so calmly, “Okay, where are these places? Our search should have started five minutes ago…”

Cas laid his hand over Dean’s fist on the table, rubbing his thumb over it. “We will find Sam. You know your brother can look after himself. He will be okay. If you want to, you can go with Camael and Kristoff and visit those factories. I’ll meet up with you later tonight.”

He could hear Cas’s words, the firm belief and faith he had in Sammy, but the angel was neglecting to recall a very important fact. They were the Winchesters. Anytime either of them found any semblance of happiness, their world was uprooted and they always had to make a choice. A serious fucking choice. And that choice was always each other. Dean chose to focus on the latter half of Cas’s words of comfort. “You’re not coming?” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his tone, but he was pretty sure he failed.

“I have an appointment with the Dominator of this district. We have to lose our tail. I don’t want them to hold us back again.”

It made sense, but he was incredibly reticent, he’d only just gotten Cas back. And if he was about to find out that Sammy was gone for good… Dean didn’t even want to entertain that possibility. He nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with them, but you have to be careful, okay?”

“Of course. I’m not going without backup. Don’t worry about me. Just focus on Sam.”

Damn. Dean was never going to love another being more than he loved the angel beside him.

…. :::: :::: ….

Dominator Amon had probably the most luxurious villa in the city. The hallway was decorated with golden statues and artfully designed carpets, even the slaves wore expensive clothing.

Cas gave Barachiel a wide smile when he met him in the hallway, the other angel grasped his shoulder in a friendly gesture. “I can’t believe Amon had the audacity to treat you like that, my friend. I’m glad you sent for me so we could talk some sense into him.”

“I knew you would enjoy this opportunity and I would never have denied you this kind of fun.” Cas smirked, suddenly very grateful that he had Barachiel on his side. The alliance had only brought him advantages so far. But still, he knew that Barachiel wasn’t like Camael and he would do well to not forget that.

Amon waited for them in his receiving hall, sitting on a large golden throne. Cas gave Barachiel a confused look when the older angel didn’t get up to greet him. Barachiel answered with a nod in Amon’s direction. It was then that Cas noticed Amon was blind.

Since angels could heal every illness or injury it was strange to see a blind angel. The confusion must have been obvious on his face, when Barachiel laid his hand on Cas’s arm and told him with his expression that he was going to fill him in on that fact later.

When they walked up to Amon’s throne, the blind angel nodded. “So, you’re the famous Castiel?”

Cas quirked his brow and shot Barachiel another confused look. “Yes. You know why we are here, I suppose.”

Amon's lips turned upward into a half smile. “Strong voice, I like that. Yes, I know why you are here. You would like to punish Zagan. And Barachiel is here to strengthen his position. You didn’t need to bring him to support you, Castiel. I would have listened to you, even without Barachiel’s presence.”

He scoffed. “Zagan acted on your behalf.”

Amon shook his head. “Oh, no. He arrested you on my behalf, because you refused to cooperate with him on a murder investigation. Now I have heard he had other plans for you. I always prided myself on being just. He wronged you and I will gladly give you the opportunity to punish him.”

Barachiel laughed. “Tell me, my good Amon, when did you hear of Zagan’s other plans? The commander was mistreated for twenty four hours… Or did you happen to turn a blind eye in the hopes that Zagan would accomplish his goal?”

“Your insults show me that you have no proof of that accusation, Barachiel. I would like you to leave us now. This is between the commander and myself.”

Cas laid a hand on Barachiel’s shoulder to halt his response. “Thank you, I’ll speak to you later.”

Barachiel nodded tersely and left the hall with an angry huff in Amon’s direction. As soon as he had closed the door behind him, Amon sighed loudly. “He is just using you, Castiel.”

Cas rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Yes, everyone is using me on this plane. That’s nothing new. You can believe me when I say that I want nothing more than to go home. So, would you be so kind as to move things along with Zagan’s punishment so I can be on my way?”

Amon folded his hands in his lap. “Did you know being blind makes you able to see things for what they really are, Castiel?”

Cas scrubbed his hand over his face. He was getting impatient and angry. “Good for you. I want Zagan to be demoted to border patrol. If you see to that immediately, I can be on my way. If not, I will have to go to the other Dominators and that could cost you your beautiful throne. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

Amon raised an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me?”

Cas shrugged. “If you have to ask, then maybe seeing things as they really are doesn’t quite work for you.”

…. :::: :::: ….

The fabrics manufacturer legitimately looked like one of those third world country factories. A dilapidated structure that was kept well out of sight of the main plaza and the higher end living areas. It was about four different stories, in which multiple different steps in the process were delegated to different slaves dependent on their skill levels. Areas for cutting the fabric, sewing it, processing it, dying it, all in one convenient place.

Kristoff had explained to Dean that, despite being enslaved, human souls were still required certain labor related accommodations. Because these souls were essentially being loaned to the manufacturer by their Geiads, they were to only be kept for ten hours a day, given rest breaks, and meals. That meant there were hours being lost.

But the proprietor had found a loophole. Souls brought to Limbo illegally, a lot of the time were without a true master, thus they could be worked to the point of exhaustion in any capacity to hone their skills until they were purchased. So, some illegal souls are brought here, to this factory, worked without breaks or food until they literally pass out, and no labor would be lost between the lapses of time.

It was a horrific sight. Camael had managed to speak to one of the angels, convincing him into permitting them to take a look around under the guise of a new work slave for Cas. Just mentioning Castiel’s name terrified the guy enough, that he opened the door in invitation, ushering the three of them in in hushed tones and quick waves, perchance a Zirorela witnessed it.

Camael kept the angel company, while Kristoff accompanied Dean throughout the factory in search of his brother. A woman slave at a sewing table to their right started heaving, her eyes hollowed out with darkness and malnutrition. As she began to sway, Dean managed to run up to her, catching the frail woman in his arms before she collapsed backwards off of her stool. Her hair was streaked with grey, wrinkles deep and hardened into her features. The woman was clearly in her early seventies. Dean shook his head in distraught awe, how was this okay?

Kristoff pointed to an area with Othils and Dean carried her petite form, laying her out to get what small amount of rest she could in a more comfortable area. None of the other slaves even noticed them. Dean was utterly disgusted with Limbo.

“Are you guys able to get these poor bastards out of here?”

“Some of them, that’s what Buer does. She buys them and we get them back to their realm.”

Dean sighed. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ comin’ on?”

Kristoff shrugged. “It’s not everyone is it?” For the first time since he’d spent time around the laid back guy, he seemed angry. “What do you want me to say, Dean? That some of these poor bastards get stuck here so long that they actually die here, so they end up getting stuck here anyway?”

Dean grasped Kristoff’s shoulder to pull him into an alcove, out of earshot. “You were getting a little loud, man,” he offered as explanation at the bemused expression on the younger man’s face. After a beat, Dean asked, “Is that what happened to you?”

The body language alone answered his question. Kristoff instantly shut down, eyes cast downward, arms folded against his chest, and a soft growl, “Quite the sleuth.”

“I’m sorry, man.” Dean didn’t know what else to say. How do you console someone who’s been dead for over a century? “So… Uh… are you actually, uh… Camael’s Quasahi?”

Kristoff let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “You aren’t a counselor or anything on Earth, right?”

“What are you tryin’ to say?” He couldn’t even begin to articulate how grateful he was that Kris seemed to calm down with his awkwardly inappropriate question.

“I’m sayin’ that you’re a dick, Dean-o.” He chuckled again. “And to answer your question, technically, I’m his Quasahi, but we only have sex when it’s expected of us. There’s a whole, long, epic back story to us, but we should try to get back on task, don’t you think?”

Dean nodded. They still had three more floors to search.

…. :::: :::: ….

By the time they’d finished searching every square inch of the damn factory, no Sammy in sight, the sun was already beginning to set. Which meant they weren’t going to be able to get to the next district to search for Sam until the following day. Dean had argued, but Limbo was not a place to roam in the ink black of night. He had acquiesced when Kris gave him an imploring look.

Camael escorted him and Kris back to the Dominator of Avaritia’s district, Amon. This was the dude that had arranged for Cas’s arrest with Zagan. Dean hoped Cas beat the ever loving shit out of the guy.

They were followed by the slaves and their litters, to complete the final leg of their journey back to Barachiel’s home. It was the most logical stopping point, considering his villa was in the district at the center of all of them.

As they approached the solid gold gates that encircled the villa, Dean couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. This place made the rest of Limbo look like a slum. It suddenly felt like they were in an episode of Richie Rich or something. Elegant stone walls adorned with elaborate golden arches that wound into intricate cloud shaped vinings of a large gate, that opened to a long paved walkway ensconced in grass. There was an enormous fountain right at the center, several marble carved cherubs splashing in the tiers of water.

And the villa, shit. It wasn’t a villa, it was more like a mansion. Caen limestone comprised the expansive walls that paired off along different heights and shapes, looking like a damn castle. Steepled parapets of stone coned up, with golden trimmings aligning all of the ledges and doors. Dean was seriously surprised to see so much extravagance in one place.

When he saw Cas standing, patiently, and thankfully blood free, he let out a deep breath in relief. The idiot didn’t murder anyone and he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of losing Sammy and Cas to this horrible plane. He itched to run up to Cas and yank him forward into a kiss. If ever there was a time where affection was needed.

The clink of the chain brought him back to reality. You’re a slave, remember? He chastised, how could he have forgotten? Damn, his happiness was clouding his perception of reality more often than he cared to address. Dean kept his head down and acted the part until they were finally enclosed in their litter, the draperies shielding them from the outside world.

Dean let out a deep sigh, as his fingers tapped in an uncoordinated rhythm against Cas’s chest. “Sammy wasn’t there…”

Cas looked down for a moment, his voice sounded sad when he said, “I’m sorry, but we will find him soon, Dean. I’m sure of it. There aren’t many places left to look for him, so we’re bound to find him soon.”

“I can’t lose him, Cas. I can’t.” Dean had never felt more vulnerable than in that moment.

Cas wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. “You won’t. Sam is okay. I just know it… I wish he would pray to me like you do. That would make this so much easier. The only time he does pray to me is when it has something to do with you. He never prays for himself.“

A lot of things would make this easier. Starting with the goddamn supernatural world leaving the Winchesters the fuck alone. And of course Sammy never prayed for selfish reasons, too much of a damn do-gooder. Dean sighed. “I’m not surprised, stupid, self-less jackass…”

Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair and chuckled lowly. “Seems to be a family trait.”

“You’re one to talk…” Dean teased, flicking his finger against Cas’s collarbone.

Cas tilted his head before he pulled Dean completely on his lap. “I’m having very selfish thoughts right now.”

Dean quirked his brow. “That right?”

Cas nodded. “Selfish and very inappropriate. Especially since we’re not completely alone.”

The thrill of what Cas was implying sent a shiver through Dean’s body. His mind was running a million miles a minute and the angel was always capable of silencing everything, bringing him to a calm, a focus. Dean leaned forward, exhaling in a breathy pant against the angel’s ear. “What kinda thoughts?”

Cas’s voice dropped down to a low whisper. “Thoughts I would love to turn into action depending on how quiet you can be?”

Dean had to repress a groan, where the hell did Cas learn how to use innuendo like that? He smirked as he whispered back, “You could always gag me…”

He didn’t expect Cas to hold his hand over his mouth in response. He leaned forward to his ear again. “I want you to prepare yourself for me.”

Dean nodded, the angel’s hand still firmly clasped over his mouth. He pulled his small satchel around to grab the oil, and while still straddling Cas’s hips, managed to hike up his tunic. There was a thrill in obeying the angel, being commanded. He was already hard.

Panting against the warm hand continuing to keep his lips closed, he slowly inserted one, two, then three fingers inside himself. Dean finally started to stretch himself, plunging the digits in and out, letting out the softest groan.

Cas pressed his hand harder against Dean’s mouth and gave him a pointed look. “Do you want me inside you, Dean?”

He nodded against the hand, enjoying the tingling of pleasure that coursed through his entire body at Cas’s words.

“Can you promise me not to make a sound when I…” Cas bit his earlobe. “Thrust my cock in you?”

There absolutely should be a law against angels talking dirty. Dean had to stifle another groan as he nodded again, grinding his groin against Cas’s.

Cas hummed in his ear. “Good. But if you break your promise, I will have to use my cock to silence your mouth. And I think you would get far more pleasure from me filling your ass than your throat."

Dean nodded his head so firmly, Cas’s hand slipped a little. He continued to finger fuck himself, straddling the angel’s hips. He smirked against the warm hand and prayed:

Put up or shut up, Cas. These fingers aren’t cutting it.

Cas shook his head in obvious amusement and used his other hand to free his erection swiftly from his armor. “Put some of that oil on me.”

Dean reached his other hand behind himself, slowly extracting his fingers to grip the bottle and pour a little more oil on his digits. He took Cas’s cock in hand, slowly stroking the angel to coat him. He spread his legs a little further, pressing closer against Cas as he lined the cock up to his entrance. As soon as the head slipped past his rim, Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he seated himself fully on his lover’s sex.

Being held at an acute angle against Cas, the angel’s hand still firmly silencing him, completely immersed in the pleasure of his lover’s cock filling him, Dean had never been so hard. The urge to moan, to cry out, to chant Cas’s name among a litany of swear words and begging, it was overwhelming.

I fucking love your cock.

Cas settled his free hand on Dean's hip to get leverage for his slow paced thrusts into him. He licked over Dean's nipple with a low hum, before he looked up and smiled at Dean. "It's all yours."

Dean shivered, a combination of lust and love tingling through him from nerve endings to skin. As Cas’s pace quickened, he bit at the underside of the middle finger of the hand against his mouth. The angel smirked and shoved in, a little rougher. Staying quiet was getting more and more difficult.

When Cas moved both of his hands to adjust their position, yanking Dean by the hips to change his angle, he had to bite his lip, unable to stop the breathy moan from escaping when his lover’s cock made contact with his prostate. Before the angel could reprimand him, Dean pressed forward and silenced himself on Cas’s lips.

The constant pressure hammering against his prostate, the way it sent shivers up and down his spine, Dean wasn’t going to last. He adjusted his hips only slightly, enough to prevent the constant contact with the little bundle of nerves. He was determined to watch Cas’s face when he came. He’d always been so lost in the throes of his own pleasure, seeing his angel’s had been one missed opportunity after another.

Dean pulled back, still riding his lover’s sex, and watched the angel writhe below him. It was fucking beautiful. He grabbed one of the hands on his hips, and brought it back to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss into the palm before leaving it there. There was something irrationally erotic about being silenced, being forced to be silent. Dean winked as he nodded again, enjoying the way his lover’s eyes almost blacked out from the pupil dilation.

Cas let out a soft growl as the grip on his mouth tightened, not painfully so, but rough enough to cause Dean to let out a muffled gasp. As though his hips had a mind of their own, he kept up a relentless pace as he fucked himself on Cas’s cock. The angel’s groans were coming out a little more erratic, his grip slowly loosening, he was close, Dean could tell.

Come on, Angel. Fuck me, make me feel all of you.

This time, the growl was louder, hand slipping downward to Dean’s hips as he gripped and fucked into him, keeping him in place. Dean bit his lip, but was unable to keep himself from gasping at the litany of assaults to his prostate. When his lover’s movements suddenly came to a stop, grip on his hips tightening, Dean let out a sigh of relief at the sensation of Cas coming in him.

Before he could move, the angel gripped his cock, stroking him to completion, causing Dean to collapse against Cas. Sweat drenched forehead pressed into the crook of his lover’s neck, he tried to catch his breath.

After the come down finally provided enough blood flow to his brain, he chuckled. “Where the hell did you learn dirty talk?”

Cas looked away for a moment, trying to bite back a grin, but Dean had still seen it. “Remember when Sam told me to get over my mistrust for computers and forced me to learn to use the internet for a whole night?”

“Yeah?” He smiled, liking where this was headed.

Cas gave him a pointed look. “I found a folder called, ‘stay away Sammy’.”

Dean nodded, message received. “Maybe I shoulda named it ‘stay away Sammy and Cas’...”

“It was very educational,” Cas added with a serious tone in his voice.

“Well…” Dean smirked, before kissing a trail along Cas’s jaw line. “You’re a very good student.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Cas couldn’t sleep. He watched the steady rise and fall of Dean’s chest and the relaxed expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Cas could see Dean with his guard down. The hunter was always expecting a fight, always ready to defend himself.

For the entirety of Dean Winchester's life, his only companion had been fear; fear of losing the people he loved, fear of failing them. That he had opened himself to Cas, making himself vulnerable again, was more than a miracle.

Cas had tried to figure out why Dean had chosen to try this with him and today he finally got a glimpse of understanding. He had seen how Dean had been affected by today’s failure. They still didn’t have any idea where Sam might be and the longer it took them to find him, the more devastated and discouraged Dean became.

But for the first time Cas had felt he could help Dean through this. Their relationship gave both of them the strength they needed in this situation. Like Dean had been helping Cas to find an emotional stability, he was now providing Dean a sense of security; that even in this dreadful situation, there was still hope. He was showing him that he would be by his side, whatever it took, and he would never abandon him. Cas would stay and nothing in the world would change that.

His fingers had subconsciously found their way to Dean’s arm, drawing Enochian letters on his lover’s warm and bare skin. Words that showed his unspoken desire to be be bonded to Dean.

It was strange. He had never felt the desire to do something like that before, but lately he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was probably an effect of the realm. He noticed it made him feel possessive over Dean, and he couldn’t stand the thought of someone else touching him.

Another reason why he had chosen not to bring up something like the Allar . It was an equivalent to asking someone for marriage. He wanted to wait until they were back on Earth to see if he would still feel the same about that. It seemed preposterous that his desire to bond with Dean would go away, but he couldn’t be sure. And if any doubt of his intention would come up, it would be easier to defend it when his emotions weren’t influenced by the world around him.

“Can’t sleep?” Dean murmured suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. Cas looked up, meeting Dean’s tired eyes.

He gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I know watching you sleep is ‘creepy’.”

“Yeah, but you get a pass this time.” He smiled, a little dreamily as he continued to adjust his eyes to the darkness of their room. “What’cha thinkin’ about, creeper?” His tone was affectionate as he caressed the side of Cas’s face.

Cas returned the smile. “You… and me.”

“Again? Don’t even angels need breaks?” He chuckled, clearly teasing him.

Cas loved the playful banter between them, so he decided to tease him back. “Technically… no. I don’t need breaks. But I’m feeling generous at the moment so… go back to sleep.”

Dean smirked. “Well, I’m awake now, so… might as well tell me what you were actually thinkin’ about.”

Cas propped his head on his elbow, giving Dean a long and contemplative look. “This is all very new to me. I’m full of questions and… I started to think about my future. Things I have never done before.”

“Like what?”

Cas let his free hand wander over Dean’s arms again, drawing invisible lines. “Like picturing how or if our lives will change when we return home.”

Dean was silent for a moment, before a soft smile donned his features. “I dunno, I mean… I don’t see it changing much, do you? Do you want to?”

Cas tilted his head a little, when he thought about Dean’s question. There were a few things he would love to change, but nothing he could tell Dean at this point. So he opted for something safe to say, “I haven’t been spending much time at… at the bunker lately. I would like to come by more often. Stay with you a while longer… I mean, as long as you want me to stay.”

At that, Dean moved to lean against his own propped elbow. “Cas, you do realize the bunker is your home, don’t you? Whether or not we became, whatever we are right now, the bunker was always going to be your home.”

Cas looked down for a moment. He had longed to hear those words and even though he realized Dean had meant them, he still had difficulties with accepting them. “Thank you for saying that, Dean… I’m grateful, really… I probably just need time to feel like I really belong there.”

“You belong with me, the there doesn’t matter, Cas.”

Cas looked up at Dean in surprise. He hadn’t anticipated those words from Dean and they answered a deep desire in him, a hope for love that would be returned. A home that he had found, not in a place, but in Dean.

He leaned over and softly kissed Dean’s lips. It was strange how much his heart hurt with happiness. He took in a deep breath when he leaned back and gave Dean a warm smile. “Can we still share a bed when we get back home?”

Dean chuckled. “I’d be offended if we didn’t.”

Dean’s laugh was always infectious. “I’m relieved to hear that. I won’t need sleep anymore when we’re back, but I don’t want to give this up.”

“Beds aren’t just for sleepin’...” He winked.

“I can think of a lot of other things that can be used differently, too. Like the showers in the bunker… the backseat of your car–”

Dean shuddered and shook his head. “Nuh, uh. Never again. Baby’s backseat has forever been compromised.”

Cas squinted his eyes. “Why?”

The hunter groaned and hid his face against his pillow. “Don’t make me say it, Cas…” It came out muffled, but he was still able to understand what the man whined.

“Dean? Did something happen to your car?” Now Cas felt really worried.

Dean took a deep breath and finally revealed his face. “I’m pretty sure I was conceived in her backseat, alright?” He visibly shuddered again.

It took a moment for Cas to realize what Dean meant. “Oh. I see.” He chewed on his lower lip for a moment. “I still have hay on my truck…”

“What? Never heard of takin’ a roll in the hay?” The paled expression now gone from his face, replaced with a smirk.

“So, that’s a good thing? Should I keep the hay?” Cas asked carefully.

Dean outright laughed. “Nah, too itchy. I don’t understand why you never cleared it out…”

“It never seemed important. At least now I have a motivation…” For a moment he was picturing them both sitting on the truck bed, watching the stars at night and drinking beer. He always wanted to try ‘going on dates’. That was something humans did and he wanted to experience those things with Dean.

“You keep rattling off places you want to have sex. I’m startin’ to think you only want me for my body…” Dean teased, his eyes twinkled with amusement.

“I wasn’t just thinking about sex. I was thinking about going on…” Cas cleared his throat, he hadn’t planned on saying this, but he didn’t want to give Dean the wrong impression. “A date with you… I like spending time with you.”

Dean trailed his fingers along Cas’s torso, up to his neck. “You wanna date me?”

“Yes?” Cas knew the insecurity in his voice was obvious, but he wasn’t sure about everything that the expression ‘date me’ entailed.

“You don’t sound so sure…”

Cas felt embarrassed that his insecurity was so easy for Dean to read, “I’m not very experienced with the… process? My only source of information is from movies and books, and they are very contradicting. I just know I want to be with you. I want to spend time with you. All my time…”

Dean’s face turned serious then. “Do you truly love me, Cas?”

“Yes. More than anything.” He didn’t even hesitate.

He nodded. “Then fuck the process.” Dean kissed him, a brief sweep of lips, before he curled in close to press his head against Cas’s chest. “There’s only one rule…”

“Tell me,” Cas commanded more than he asked as he wrapped his arms around Dean to hold him close.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed out in a whisper.

Cas closed his eyes and kissed the top of Dean’s head. “I won’t.”

He could feel the man in his arms physically relax. “Good.”

When Dean’s breathing started to even out after a while, Cas finally felt tired, too. Tired but incredibly hopeful and happy. He pulled Dean closer to his body and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

Chapter Text

The journey to Invidia was relatively peaceful. They'd arrived to the breeding farm and were refused entrance, which was a first. Usually the angels of Limbo were scrambling to bend over backwards to appease Cas.

That gave Dean unfathomable hope, there was something fishy going on behind those closed doors and they were going to get to the bottom of it. Hopefully that bottom was the location of his brother. Although, it could simply be the illegal shit that was going on at the farm. Kris had explained to him that less and less souls were ending up in Limbo, hence why there was this whole illegal slave trading ring. One of the other ways they managed to increase their numbers, thus upsetting the balance, was by taking some of the illegal souls and forcing them to breed, to create even more. It was pretty damn disgusting. Dean really wanted to find his brother, but there was a part of him that hoped Sammy wasn’t being used as a stud at the farm.

Much to Cas’s chagrin, they congregated at Buer’s villa to work out the plans to sneak into the farm after dark to look for Sam. The interior was more modest and simple than any of the other villas they had visited. It was nice, weirdly warm and comfortable considering the proprietor was anything but. A house slave escorted them through the main entryway into a large parlor, elegant green marble lining the tiled flooring throughout the entire place. The walls were painted in soft variant shades of green, with orange sconces accenting the hallways and walls of the parlor. Deep burnt orange drapes gave the villa a particularly warm appearance.

After Camael, Kris, Sable, Buer, Cas, and Dean were seated at the large round table in the center of the room, they got to work on the plans. Camael would sneak them to an entryway through one of the many tunnels of Coraxo that lay beneath the main breeding stable. Only Cas and Dean would go in, to protect Camael and the resistance’s efforts, not to mention they were the only ones who knew what Sam looked like.

After they confirmed their plans, Sable turned to Dean and said, “Since you're here, you might as well stay for the festivities.”

Dean quirked his brow. “Festivities?”

Kristoff chuckled. “Sable and Buer are enacting the Allar today. About damn time, too!”

Cas looked up in surprise, for a moment a frown appeared on his face before he took in a deep breath and looked at Buer and Sable. “Congratulations. I wish you both a happy life together.”

No one else seemed to catch it, and that might be because they didn’t know Cas the way he did, but he caught a hint of sadness in the angel’s tone. It was weird, maybe the Allar was a bad thing? Dean shook his head in confusion. “What am I missing?”

Kristoff grinned. “On Earth, it’s essentially the same as getting married. I mean, an Allar is a little more permanent. It’s an actual bonding of soul and grace, but basically, at the end of the day? Friends and family bear witness and there’s a celebratory feast afterwards.”

Dean nodded, maybe Cas disapproved and that’s why he sounded so sad? “Is… Is that allowed? I mean, a human and an angel?”

Buer scoffed. “Of course it’s not allowed. But I don’t care. I love who I love and I will fight everyone and every stupid rule that stands in our way.”

The passion in her voice, the determination, it was pretty impressive. Dean watched Sable’s face as her– well, soon to be wife at that point, waxed on about nothing being able to hinder their love. He’d never seen the woman look so happy. Her features softened, eyes only for the fair angel with a short temper.

Dean looked at Cas then, whose eyes were downcast, before he pushed his chair back and moved to stand. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Cas approached the window that was across the room, not exceedingly far, but not within hearing distance. Dean moved to follow him, when Camael halted his movement and shook his head.

What the hell was going on with Cas?

…. :::: :::: ….

Camael stepped next to him with a warm smile on his face, for a moment just keeping him company as Cas watched the streets from the window without really seeing anything.

“What keeps you from asking him?” Camael asked after a beat.

Cas closed his eyes for a moment before he snuck a disapproving look at Camael. “Am I that obvious?”

Camael tilted his head, an amused glint in his eyes. “Only to people with eyes… and to people who know what real love looks like.”

“You speak from experience.” It wasn’t a question, just stating the obvious.

“Don’t change the subject, Castiel. This isn’t about me,” Camael chastised with an amused tone in his voice.

Cas looked down for a moment. “It’s… complicated.”

Camael gave him a pointed look and Cas rolled his eyes. “I would love to ask him… but there are so many reasons… Dean has had a horrible experience with a bond that was forced upon him and I don’t think he wants any more supernatural bonds thrown into his life. And this between us is pretty new and we both lead a dangerous life… and my situation and my future is unclear, too. I don’t know if… there’s just so much...“ Cas knew he was rambling and he knew why Camael didn’t stop him. He wanted him to get to a certain point.

Cas took in a deep breath. “I’m afraid he would say no.”

Camael turned around to look at Dean, who had obviously been watching their conversation the whole time. “I don’t know, Castiel. Something tells me your chances are good.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Because the Allar ceremony thing was technically illegal in Limbo between an angel and a human, they were having it in a beautiful courtyard in Coraxo. An actual underground garden, that was replete with beautifully carved parapets of stone in elegant archways, several bushes of babies breath and different fruit trees aligning the circular vicinity.

At the center of the open courtyard was a solitary willow tree, reaching at least thirty feet in height, its aged and darkened trunk branching out in beautiful arches over the open areas of the courtyard. The canopy draping over the entirety of its space, creating this atmosphere of whimsical closeness.

Dean had agreed to help set up, so they were laying out several wooden chairs and stools in a large circle around the tree. Kristoff had way too much fun releasing all of the lightning bugs into the air. There were hundreds of them, illuminating the darkened underground in a magical cascade of flickering yellow bulbs of light.

Dean chuckled, even in a realm dominated by angels, there were still some pretty serious human cliches. As he continued to set up chairs, he glanced over to where Sable was being adorned in ceremonial robes. The silver garment complimented her olive skin tone beautifully, but it was the radiance of her smile that showed her true beauty.

Dean couldn’t help but feel happy for her. When he looked over to Cas, who was talking with Buer and Camael, his breath got caught in his throat. His angel was smiling, a real, honest-to-god, smile. Dean was staring kind of dumbly, mesmerized by the beauty of it all. Cas looked up for a moment, locking eyes with him, he tilted his head in confusion before a soft pink tinged his cheeks and his smile got bigger, brighter.

Dean returned the smile, a little stiltedly and more of an awkward flex of the lips, unsure how to react. He’d never loved anything or anyone more than he loved Castiel in that moment. He never would. Cas returned to his conversation, and Dean was shaken from his weird epiphany by Kristoff throwing a small pebble at him.

“Dude!”

The younger man laughed. “I’ve been calling your name for hours, man.”

He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, you big baby?”

He snapped his fingers to call Dean to him, standing near the trunk of the willow. “Give me a boost so I can put all this damn ribbon in the branches.”

Dean nodded and approached Kristoff, interlacing his fingers together as a makeshift step to push the smaller man up as high as he could reach. He groaned. “How much do you weigh?”

“Now who’s being the baby?”

“Be nice or I’ll drop you,” Dean teased.

Kris laughed. “If I’m nice do I get to be the flower girl at your wedding?”

Instantly, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. A weird combination of terror and an almost forlorn loss. Marriage and a Winchester? That didn’t seem to end well. His parents. Sam’s failed marriage to Becky. He’d made peace with not having an apple pie life years ago. The happiness he was feeling with Cas, while invigorating and exciting, probably wasn’t going to have a substantial shelf life. Despite his promise, Cas would inevitably leave him. Whether he got sick of Dean, or they got separated because, he had to face it, he was a human and prone to dying.

Dean let out a mirthless chuckle. “Not in the cards, man.”

“Bullshit. I see the way you look at Castiel.” Kris jumped down from Dean’s makeshift hand ladder and flattened out his tunic, giving him a pointed look.

“And how is that?”

“Like you’ve been stranded in a desert for several months and he’s the first glass of water you’ve seen.” Dean attempted to deny it, when Kris waved him off to continue, “I’m not stupid. He looks at you like that, too.”

That didn’t necessarily mean anything, Dean shook his head, this time feeling more laden down with the reality of his situation. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s not in the cards.”

“Why not?”

Dean let out an almost tired sigh. “Because, man... he’s eventually gonna realize he can do better.”

Kristoff rolled his eyes and moved on to the next task he had somehow gotten forced into. Dean returned his attention to setting up the chairs. After the chairs and tables for the foods were set up, everyone started to take their seats.

Since they were interlopers, Dean chose to sit on a stool off to the back, a diagonal angle from where the wedding would take place. He smiled when Cas made his way over to sit in the chair beside him. “Cool, huh?” Dean asked, trying to start any conversation so he wouldn’t dazedly stare at the angel.

“It’s a very beautiful place.” Cas’s voice was soft, but he sounded thoughtful.

Dean chuckled. “You alright there, space cowboy?”

Cas tilted his head. “Space cowboy? I hope, that isn’t your new term of endearment for me. I kind of like, ‘Sunshine’.”

He couldn’t refrain from laughing, he’d never been one for pet names, hell, he referred to Cas as sunshine when they were just friends. Dean had never really thought about it as something potentially or actually romantic. But then, how many guys call their other guy friends sunshine? “So, no snugglebunny, or Sparkle McCuddlepants either?”

Cas looked at him with a deep frown and scrunched up his nose. “No.”

“Aww, come on, how about baby cakes? Or… uh… honey pot?” Dean teased, trying very hard to not outright laugh at the horrified look on Cas’s face.

“You’re terrible at naming things,” Cas stated dryly and shook his head.

“Guess it’s a good thing we can’t have kids then, huh?” God, why did that thought make him feel kind of sad? Dean shook his head, trying to keep his mind away from depressing subject matter.

“We have Claire. Good thing she already has a name. Doesn’t she call you, ‘Hasselhoff’ all the time?”

Dean stared kind of dumbly at Cas. The guy clearly had no idea what he’d just said, the fact that he’d implied that Claire was their daughter. Damn, he missed that kid. First thing he planned on doing when he got back was calling her cranky ass. When Cas’s head tilted at his lack of response, Dean chuckled. “Yeah. Kids, huh?”

Cas smiled warmly at him. “She is doing really well at school at the moment. I’m happy that she found a place… but I miss her.”

“Me, too,” Dean agreed without even having to think about it. Damn. That was kind of weird. He scooted his stool closer to Cas’s chair, so their legs were touching. He reached over and gently grasped the angel’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Dean stared at their hands for a moment, before turning back to an ocean of indigo. “Let’s go visit her when we get back…”

Cas’s smile widened at the suggestion. “I think she would love that. She hasn’t said anything out right, but it sounded like she missed you… us… in her last text messages.”

Dean smiled at the thought of that. Damn kid weaseling her way into his heart. “Perfect, then after I beat the shit out of Sammy for getting kidnapped… again... We’ll hop in Baby and make a trip of it to Sioux Falls.”

Before Cas could respond, the small quartet of violins began playing some soft, classical type of music. It was pretty fascinating, there were remarkable similarities to human weddings, and then drastic differences. Instead of one of them being walked up a makeshift aisle like in human weddings, they walked together, arms hooked at the elbow. When they reached the forefront of the willow tree, Buer placed the index and middle finger of her right hand to Sable’s forehead, drawing a half circle down to her cheek. Sable reciprocated with the lover’s inverse movement.

Dean froze. He knew the gesture was a sign of affection, but… was it a sign of something more? Shit. Were he and Cas engaged or something? Dean leaned close to whisper, “Alright, have I completely misunderstood the meaning behind that gesture?”

For a moment Cas hesitated. “Depends on what you think the gesture means?”

“Well, Tib told me it was a gesture of affection between lovers. Is that all it is?”

Cas chewed on his lip and looked conflicted. “That isn’t wrong, but…” Cas scrubbed his hand over his face, looking embarrassed. “It’s also a promise to stay. The two halves of a circle symbolize two minds that complete each other. It’s meaning isn’t as casual as your friend might have explained it to you.”

That didn’t really answer his question, Dean frowned and decided to just bite the bullet. “Are… Does that mean we’re engaged?”

Cas looked surprised over the question for a moment. “Um… no. Just like in human tradition, I would ask you. You would know.”

Dean nodded, letting out a nervous chuckle. “Well, technically you kinda did…”

Cas squinted his eyes. “I said I would wait until we returned to Earth.”

He swallowed at the lump in his throat. There wasn’t an 'if' there. There wasn’t a 'maybe'. Cas sounded like he would. Dean stared at the angel, eyes flickering over his face. “You… Cas?” He was suddenly unable to formulate words, Dean’s body went into panic mode. Every single fiber of his being screaming at him to flee, to escape.

Cas touched his face. “But we were only joking at that time. I know you, Dean. I know you don’t want me like that. I imagine another supernatural bond isn’t exactly something that’s very high on your wishlist.”

All of the panic that had started to restrict his lungs’ ability to expand, in that moment they completely deflated, like a popped balloon. While the idea of Cas actually proposing, the concept of marriage, in whatever form; while that absolutely terrified him; Dean was saddened at the thought of it never happening. Fuck. Maybe he did… Dean shook his head at himself. Slow your roll, Winchester.

When he made eye contact with Cas again, the vulnerability he saw in that moment, the love there. Dean knew in that moment without a trace of doubt, Cas was it for him. Cas was the goddamn love of his life. When the fuck did that happen? He took the angel’s hand in both of his, turning slightly to face him better, took a deep breath, and instead of making a joke, instead of changing the subject, he chose to just be honest. For once. “It would be, with you…”

Cas’s eyes widened in disbelief. He saw him swallowing nervously, his voice was just above a whisper, “You mean… you would say… yes?”

Instead of words, Dean chose to answer with a kiss.

Cas pulled back after a moment, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t… this type of bond is more permanent than just a human marriage. We would be bonded to each other forever. Nothing could separate us, not even death. What if you meet someone else? Someone who could give you a better life...”

Dean sobered at that. Marriage was one thing, but an eternal bond that transcends death? That was a little terrifying. He loved Cas, like, could happily see himself spending the remainder of his sad little life with the angel. Someone else giving him a better life was a crock of shit, there wasn’t anyone better than Cas. But that kind of a bond? Years of being moved from place to place, never knowing or keeping people in his life for more than a couple years max? Commitment-phobic was putting it mildly. He exhaled shakily. “I… Shit, I don’t know what to say to that, Cas.”

Cas shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything. I understand that it’s too much to ask.” Although the angel had attempted to keep his voice neutral, Dean noticed the disappointment and sadness in it.

“Hey…” Dean tilted Cas’s head up to look at him. “Just cuz the thought of… It doesn’t matter, I…” It had been years since he said these words out loud to anyone in a romantic sense. Hell, Sammy only got them on his birthday. Dean took a deep breath and on his shaky exhale finally said, “I love you. That’s never gonna change, okay?”

Cas stroked his thumb along Dean’s cheek and nodded after a moment. “You’ll have my heart as long as you want to.”

Dean smiled and leaned his head into Cas’s palm, pressing a kiss to his fingers. “Deal.”

…. :::: :::: ….

Watching Buer and Sable going through the stages of the ceremony, binding their soul and grace together, filled Cas with an unshakeable sadness. Of course he couldn’t compare his relationship with Dean to them. Sable was a soul, if nothing unnatural would destroy her, she would live forever at Buer’s side.

But when Dean would die, he would go to Heaven and would be out of Cas’s reach. He wasn’t allowed to return home. The Allar could change that. It would provide him with a backdoor. But that was never going to happen. It was selfish of him that he couldn’t let Dean go, that the hunter had become his raison d'être.  

He hoped his desire wouldn’t be as strong when they would eventually return to Earth. After all, he knew he was still under the influence of this realm. Maybe he could just be happy with the time he had left with Dean.

He tried to pull his thoughts back to the here and now, concentrating on the sensation of Dean’s fingers intertwined with his. How the warmth of his shoulder seeped into his body where they touched.

Buer was reciting the Enochian words, the promise to be at Sable’s side for eternity, and all he could think of was how he had drawn those words on Dean’s skin with his fingers.

When Buer’s and Sable’s intertwined hands started glowing, he remembered the moment when he had saved Dean’s soul from Hell. How bright it had been and how easy it had been using his grace to rebuild his body and mend his soul. Like his soul trusted him right from the start on a very profound level. Although he had tried to forget it over time, he remembered what the connection between his grace and Dean’s soul had felt like. It was the first time he had felt confusion because of the hunter.

The memory brought a smile to his lips. It was the first time Dean confused him and he was looking forward to hopefully the million more times Dean caused that sort of reaction in him.

He had been selected to rescue Dean because he was their strongest soldier and the best tactician. All he ever knew in his life was how to inflict pain and how to kill demons.

Touching Dean’s soul had been the first time he had felt something different, something good in his life. It was probably the moment in his life he had started to change, because of that first touch.

He also remembered Hester’s accusation, how she had yelled at Dean that Cas had been lost since the moment he had first laid hands on him. Hester was, at least, somewhat right in that accusation. He had changed in that moment. But he wasn’t lost.

He woke up and started to live instead.

Cas may have saved Dean’s soul from Hell, but Dean had saved him in that same moment, too. He had given him a spark of warmth, of light he had never felt before and had been giving him unfathomable strength ever since.

Cas wrapped his arm around Dean and pulled him closer. There were no words to express how he felt for Dean, he just knew that being with him made him stronger and made him incredibly happy. If he could do the same for Dean, it would be a privilege for as long as the man would let him. Anything after that was something he shouldn’t concern himself with.

He would cross that bridge when he got to it. For now, Dean was in his arms and he loved him. It was enough. It had to be.

…. :::: :::: ….