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Dean was sure there was something going on beneath the surface.
No… Castiel was gone for a while and now it turned out he was some kind of commander of some kind of angelic army? Against Metatron? And the angels all obeyed him?
Dean was sceptical.
It was probably the Mark of Cain talking, but at that point he couldn't even differentiate his thoughts from the ones the Mark induced, so no point in even trying.
He didn't have the strength to fight it really.
As he looked around the place, looked at all those angels working, he felt sick inside. His hand itched, to grab the angel blade, to exterminate them all. It wasn't a conscious decision.
He had to restrict himself, for Castiel at least.
They mostly ignored him as he walked around, he eyed them with barely concealed disgust. It was pretty clear he considered them all beneath himself, just another supernatural threat.
With a bit of cockiness, Dean was even sure he could take them all in a one to one combat.
Some of them just looked at each other, without even opening their mouths to communicate. They probably spoke in frequencies Dean couldn't hear.
He walked right up to the last office in the place, the closed door that had Castiel's name on it.
He didn't bother knocking, he didn't really care. He pushed inside, the outside window that gave to the rest of the improvised base, which looked more like a boring office job to Dean anyway, was covered with curtains.
He closed the door after himself, rapidly.
Castiel was sitting at a desk, working on something Dean didn't know anything about. As soon as he heard him, he raised his head, surprised. He adjusted his messy raven hair.
“Hello Dean.” He stood up rapidly: “What are you doing here? I didn't think you and Sam were to come back so soon…”
“Well it looks like we both don't know much about each other.”
Castiel stared at him, not fully understanding what he meant: “Are you okay?”
Dean looked away, making sure the curtains were covering them properly, with his lips reduced to two thin disgusted lines.
“I won't waste any time with pleasantries. Sam might buy this… idea of you, the big bad commander of this pathetic angelic flock, but I don't.”
Castiel's hand tightening against the desk. He didn't immediately lose his cool, knowing that Dean didn't mean it, that the Mark was talking for him.
“I'm just trying to help.”
“Oh because in the past your help has been such a blessing, huh? You never made things worse with your good intentions, mh?” He insisted, harshly.
Castiel felt his heart sink at those words, but he tried not to show it.
“Dean. Have you come here just to insult me?”
The hunter stared at his eyes for the longest time, he didn't even know why it made him so mad. But it did.
“I don't think you're fit for this role.”
“But they chose me.”
“They don't know you like I do.” Dean slowly stalked closer, Castiel tried to keep his expression stern, as Dean's fingers poked at his chest, angrily.
“You'll mess this up in no time. This all will crumble. You better step down.”
“Dean, I do not intend to do such.”
“Oh, would you rather see them all die?” he gritted his teeth.
“Why do you even care so much?” Castiel looked away, his heart beating quicker, nervously: “I'm not asking you to like it. Just to have some trust in me. What makes you so angry?”
Dean's clutched hands trembled for a second. He didn't know exactly. His mind felt so foggy, he just knew it made him mad. So mad, to see Castiel like that, to see those angels around him like that.
And he hated to think about it.
He hated the idea.
“Are you jealous perhaps? That I am finally doing something and you're not bossing me around?” Castiel couldn't help but spit it out, immediately regretting it: “I– I am sorry Dean. No. This wasn't right of me to say, I shouldn't let your Mark get to me.”
“Pft, it's not that.” Dean rolled his eyes.
The anger was still there, but he was sure it wasn't that. Somehow, he knew it wasn't that.
“You just gotta step away from this bullshit, dude. This isn't suitable for you, and I say this as your friend. Just come to the bunker with me.” His voice lowered slightly. For a second it felt like his defences had lowered too.
Castiel stared at his crunched up face, his stern expression.
His heart picked up a pace at those words.
“Dean are you…”
He tried to find the right words, straightening his back, just the desk separating them now.
“Dean, are you worried I might replace you with this new flock?”
Dean's eyes immediately shot open, his cheeks burning. He grabbed the collar of Castiel's shirt, slamming the angel's body against the desk in front of him.
He then pulled him closer, their faces were mere inches apart, Dean's eyes filled with pure rage.
“What are you even suggesting?! That I- I can't handle the thought of you leaving for a while?! That im- I'm an insecure little idiot?!”
He pushed Castiel away, making him slightly tremble on his feet, hitting the wall with his back.
Dean's lips were shaking, his breath short, as he stared at the angel.
“Do you think I'm scared that you… you might leave me or something?! No! Pft… why would I?!”
Castiel massaged his neck, he slowly walked around the desk, to reach the hunter, who was fuming, his cheeks still red.
He silently pressed a hand against the Mark, on his arm, quietly.
Dean's lips twitched, silently, but he didn't pull away.
He breathed in a couple times, Castiel's touch somehow soothing. He massaged his temples with his other hand.
“I'm losing control…” he murmured through gritted teeth: "Didn't mean to be so aggressive.”
“It's okay Dean. We are working on a solution.” He stroked his arm silently, before slightly pulling up his sleeve, to look at the angry red mark on his skin. His fingertips brushed against it.
Somehow the touch seemed to quiet down Dean's raging spirit, making him breath slower too. Castiel looked up at him, letting his arm go.
“Do you feel better?”
He knew that he couldn't heal Dean, not from that. But he could at least lessen that terrible ache he felt every single second with the Mark on.
“It's so hard…” Dean grumbled, then he eyed the curtains again, he could hear the angels talking behind those walls: “But I wasn't lying. This isn't your place, Cas.”
A couple seconds of pause: “It's where I chose to be tho.”
Dean's lips tightened, then he looked away: “Have you forgotten what Heaven has done to you? You want to… lead these winged bastards again?” His tone was slightly rising again, but he tried to keep it at bay.
“Dean…” Castiel's blue eyes were fixated on him, with seriousness: "You're not getting replaced. I am not going anywhere. You're not alone.”
Dean stared at him, silently.
“What about when this is all over? What then? Will you just… go with them back to Heaven too? Renounce everything we've built together?” He came off way too aggressive, more than he had meant to.
Castiel silently looked at the door of the office, then at Dean.
“You really think I could abandon you like that?”
“I don't know. I don't think I feel like I know you anymore, commander.” He gritted his teeth at those words.
Castiel stared back at him, harshly: “That's very offensive to me, Dean. You can't be serious about this.”
“Then prove to me I'm wrong.” Dean spat out those words, grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling Castiel close again. This time less aggressively.
Their breaths mingled for a second, Castiel's cheeks red, as Dean kept him close, too close. He could feel the hunter's other hand grab his shoulder so tight it hurt.
“What do you want me to do?” He breathed out.
“Prove to me that you'd choose me over them a million times. Prove it to them too.” It was almost a desperate plea, a desperate request.
Castiel could tell that, deep down, it came from a place of extreme insecurity.
He could see it in those green unsure eyes, those tight lips.
Dean tried so hard to play the tough guy, the Mark didn't give him any choice but to act like that, though it was still the same guy he had grown to love, to fall for.
And if there was something Dean Winchester feared, was to be left alone.
“You know I would.” Castiel's voice lowered: “I fell for you, I gave up everything I've ever known for you. Don't act like you don't know. What more can I do, to prove that I will always choose you?”
Dean waited a few seconds, his heart beating quickly in his chest, his sweaty hand gripping Castiel's shirt tighter, his fingers slightly trembling.
He wasn't even sure what he wanted.
He stared at those blue eyes, his breath short.
“Give it all.” His voice came out hoarse: “Give it all to me. All that you are. Up to the last inch of your being.”
Slowly, his head slightly bent forward, their nose lightly brushing against each other.
Castiel's breath was caught in his throat, his hands trembled.
He stared at Dean's lips, so close to his own, not sure if he should dare.
But deep down they both knew.
“I'll give you everything you ask for, you know I will.”
His hands rested silently against the hunter's chest, before he half closed his eyes, his upper lip caught between Dean's, lightly, for a second.
He could feel the hunter's heavy breath in his mouth, as his lips searched for his own once again.
Dean's hand came to rest against his cheek, gripping it tightly, the kisses growing heated. Castiel's arms trembled, as they wrapped around Dean's neck.
The hunter grabbed his waist, the angel's body slamming against one of the walls, as he kept on kissing him, desperately, aggressively, his fingers gripping his hair.
Castiel's whole body felt like burning, his throat closed, as he couldn't stop pressing his lips on Dean's. His fingernails gripped tighter the hunter's back, his eyes now closed as Dean's mouth ravaged his own.
He could feel the taller man's hardened length press aggressively against his stomach, grinding against him, desperately, keeping him in place.
He struggled to catch his breath, his lips trembling again with the force of those kisses.
“Dean…-” he begged quietly, trying to catch his breath, to pull away: “We cannot. They will hear…”
He stared at the door for a second, then he went back looking at Dean's deep green eyes.
His expression didn't budge.
“Let them hear.” His lips pressed against Castiel's neck, sucking at the pale skin, making the angel's body shake, his mouth opening in a pained gasp: “You said you'd do anything, you'd prove that you belong with me to them too.”
Castiel didn't answer, yet he didn't stop him, letting him press his lips against his neck over and over again, leaving mark after mark, the skin turning a light shade of purple, his eyes rolling upwards.
His breath was so short, before Dean slammed him against the wall once again, blocking him right there with a hand pressed against the neck.
Castiel's lips twitched, feeling it hard to breathe. The strength given by the Mark of Cain was a surprising turn of events, now Cas was almost certain Dean could rival him in a one to one combat.
He felt the fingers constricting against his throat, making him gasp desperately, huffing. His own hand tried to grab at Dean's wrist, but silently he trusted him, he knew the hunter wouldn't allow any harm to really come his way.
Slowly, he felt the grip growing tighter, Castiel's lips parted as some drool dripped from them, he struggled to take in air, his eyesight was foggy.
Dean's mouth curled up in a wicked grin, he liked to see the powerful commander like that, all panting, desperate, in his grip.
And yet Castiel didn't fight back full strength.
Yet Castuel allowed him to put him there.
He tightened his grip again. He wanted to make him lose consciousness, to leave his brain without oxygen for a couple seconds, to see what would happen.
He felt Castiel's eyes bulging out, his face turning a sickening shade, his mouth opening, struggling to take air in.
But it was all futile.
Dean's grip was strong, punishing, he tightened his fingers once again, Castiel's arms fell limp against his body, his mouth opening agape, twitching.
Drool still came out of it, his eyes rolled up, his eyesight was blurry, the edges of his field of vision were turning a dark shade of gray.
The angel's hands trembled, trying to pull up, to grab Dean's arm, to press against the Mark, before his head fell forward.
His vision turned completely black, with a heavy pant. His brain felt like shutting down.
Dean's lips curled up again, with a twisted satisfaction.
In a second the grip loosened.
Castiel's body fell on the floor, the angel's form was numb. He kneeled in front of it, turning him to face the ceiling.
Slowly, their lips pressed together again, Dean's puffing inside his mouth, helping Castiel breath again.
His hands held his chin in place, as he did mouth on mouth to the angel, until his eyes shot back open, with a desperate croak.
Castiel coughed loudly, his body shaking, struggling to take in air again. His neck was red, his eyes teary.
He looked at Dean, who was still kneeling at his side, his heart beating quick.
His head hurt, it spinned, Dean's hands cupped his face again.
“You were right to trust me.” a mere whisper, as he pressed their lips back together once again: “I'd never let you get seriously hurt.”
Silently Castiel's hands came to rest against his back again, his heart still beating quickly. Then Dean slowly pulled away, taking a few steps back from the angel laying the painting on the floor.
“Now take off your clothes.”
Castiel looked up at him, silently, he then started to unbutton his shirt, leaving the trenchcoat fall on the ground.
He desperately hoped nobody would open that door, nobody could witness them doing that
He hoped Dean would have mercy, and would be quiet.
He started to remove his tie, when the hunter's hand grabbed his, lightly: “No, keep that on.”
Castiel looked at him, hesitatingly, but didn't complain.
The rest of his clothing fell on the ground, his pants pooling at his feet, as he stood up again.
He could feel Dean's gaze rank over his nude form, lingering on every inch.
Despite the Mark clouding his mind, Dean couldn't help but be mesmerised at the sight.
His heart was beating so quickly, his lips suddenly dry as he stared at the display in front of himself.
Castiel was absolutely beautiful.
For instance the anger, the insecurity, everything disappeared.
He stared at his slightly hairy chest, at his showing tummy, his thighs, his semi-hard cock, the way his skin looked so perfect like a marble statue.
He looked at his face, at the unkempt beard, at his messy dark hair, and he felt utter devotion.
He took a few steps closer, his fingers brushing against his cheek.
Castiel was looking at him in silence, his cheeks red as Dean pressed their forehead together.
For a second that wasn't the Mark's doing. That was purely him.
And he loved every inch of the angel, in a way so pure he had never felt it before.
Their lips met again lightly, Castiel had his eyes half closed again, before he felt Dean's hand linger down on the tie, slightly pulling it.
His mouth opened in a soft protesting moan, but was quickly drowned by the hunter's lips.
“Come here…” he pulled him towards the door, Castiel's eyes softly widened.
“Wait, Dean-” he grabbed the hunter's hand, secured on his tie.
Dan stared at him, like he didn't understand.
“We can't go out like this.” Castiel whispered: “I have no clothes on.”
Dean slowly brushed a strand of hair away from his face, he then dipped the hand lower, up to Castiel's inner thigh.
He lightly squeezed it, Castiel's mouth opening in a soft moan, Dean could see how hard it was getting, how easy it was to get him worked up.
“Don't worry about that.”
He pulled him lightly, a hand on the doorknob.
Castiel's eyes widened, desperately.
“Dean… there are my soldiers out there. We… we cannot.”
His expression hardened: "Don't you want to show them you belong with me?”
“Yes, but–”
“Dont you want to choose us, over everything else?” His voice dropped in tone, his lips biting softly Castiel's earlobe, making the angel gasp out.
He had his cheeks red, panting, his cock was painfully hard, he was rubbing his thighs together, nervously, letting it leak over his skin.
“Okay Dean…” he whispered, allowing the hunter to drag him by the tie: “I trust you.”
The hunter slowly unbuckled his belt with a hand, before wrapping it around the angel's maw, forcing him to gag on it.
Castiel's eyes widened, with humiliation, as he could not speak anymore.
The hunter kicked the door open, with a swift movement.
In a second all the angels working turned towards them, immediately dropping everything they were doing, their eyes widening.
For a second there was just silence.
Dean pulled Cas with himself, the tie constricting against his throat, he was unable to speak with the belt in his mouth.
The angel felt a sting of humiliation, his naked body showing off for all his angel brothers to see.
It was too much, he felt like he would throw up. Yet he didn't fight back.
He nervously tried to close his legs, to hide the evidence of his arousal, but it was useless, his cock was too hard, too painfully stiff to be concealed.
It didn't help that Dean's other hand was dragging down his back, squeezing his ass, his fingers teasing his sensitive spots, making him gasp out in excitement.
He was leaking against his own legs, desperately, his knees weak in front of all his angel brothers.
“Don't be shy, take a good look at your commander.” Dean pulled him lightly, making him gasp, out of breath.
Castiel couldn't protest, as he was dragged in front of those people, Dean's other hand suddenly dragging down his chest, grabbing his hardening cock, giving it a little stroke.
Cas couldn't help but feel it throb, as he panted with shame. He was so red, his cheeks burning with shame.
Those judging looks on his angel peers hurt like blades. Yet… the idea of satisfying Dean in such a primal way… it couldn't help but excite him further.
“He's very fond of the human kind.” Dean's lips curled up, slowly stroking Castiel's groin, making the angel pant and huff, his cheeks so red, as he teased his sensitive length.
The angels looked shocked, utterly scandalised.
“What does this mean?!” One of them asked loudly.
Dean loved the expressions on those prude's faces, the embarrassment, the confusion, because after all those sexual actions were foreign.
He pulled Castiel, not caring about the embarrassment on the angel's face, pulling him until he was forced against one of the desks, the angels backing down.
He pressed his head down against the wooden surface, keeping him pinned like that, with a wicked grin.
Castiel's cheeks were turning so red, his lips trembling slightly as Dean kept him in that position, his grip strong on his neck.
He couldn't protest, yet he didn't want to, his painfully hard cock pressed neatly against the surface of the desk.
Dean yanked his head up, grabbing him by the hair, making him gasp out against the belt.
“Take a good look at your flock.” He whispered, against Castiel's ear, forcing his teary eyes to look at his subjects, who stared at them with utter shock.
Dean's lips twitched upwards: “Do you like this? Do you like debasing yourself like this for me?”
Castiel's eyes slightly looked up, to his face, his cheeks still red, his expression softening.
Despite the shame, he was still so hard, Dean could see it.
And he was enjoying every second, with his heart beating so quickly.
Dean lightly pulled his tie, making Castiel choke again.
It was an intoxicating sight, Dean was basking in it, he loved the way he could humiliate his best friend in front of people who should have respected him. And the way Cas liked it… It felt so good, so perfect.
He let him go, letting the angel's head fall on the wooden desk, before raising his eyes towards the others. He slowly stroked Castiel's head, with a smug expression, one of victory.
“He chose me.” He still stroked his raven locks, proudly. For a second the Mark didn't seem like a big deal any longer, nothing did, not as long as he had Castiel.
He made the angel stand up again, Cas automatically laying against him, silently, his eyes half closed, his expression a mixture of disgust for himself and reluctant excitement.
He stroked his naked back, kissing the top of his head. He could see his body reacting with lust while there was only embarrassment in his eyes. He couldn't even look at his peers.
And they couldn't look at him either.
“Let's go home, Cas.” He rubbed his back further, walking towards the door, not bothering to dress him up again.
He just wanted to go home, with him, where he belonged.