Losing

The hotel light flickered overhead in an annoying way that told Dean he’d probably kill it later and suffer with just the light from the bathroom. With Sam off doing who knew what with that bitch, he was alone in the hotel. Alone with his thoughts. Alone with his memories. Alone without any alcohol to dim the horror of what he’d done or to block out the hatred he’d seen on Sam’s face as he’d mocked that time of horror.

“Dean.”

Startled, Dean bolted upright on the bed and found Castiel standing in the middle of the room. He wore the same outfit he always did, overcoat and plain slacks and loafers. The flickering light gave the Angel a strange cast, as if he were more than the world could handle; certainly more than Dean could handle.

He tried to glare, but couldn’t summon anything harsher than a tired frown. “What?”

“You are troubled,” Castiel stated.

Rolling his eyes at that, Dean stood and retorted, “No shit, Sherlock.”

It was like flipping a switch. Castiel changed from annoying human with Angelic claims to pissed Angel, wings filling the room with every flicker of the dying light bulb. Dean fell to his knees without conscious volition, gasping for air in a room suddenly charged with electricity. The awe he felt at Castiel’s true form competed with the need to grovel, to serve and surrender, to seek forgiveness however he could find it.

Castiel walked to him and just stared at him for a long moment before saying, “Yes, you may.”

Dean dropped forward and knelt facedown on the floor, forehead scratching on the coarse rug. A bare foot nudged at his head and Dean instantly lifted just enough to press his lips to the cool skin, his hands shaky as they cradled the heel, lifting it from the floor. He kissed each toe and then up to the ankle before moving onto the other foot to bestow the same treatment. He soaked up the contact, peace filling him with every obeisance made in the press of lips to pale skin.

“Please…” he whispered, not sure what he was really asking. “Please, let me…”

“Yes, Dean.”

The words were a benediction and he knelt up to find Castiel nude, adorned only with those tremendous, terrible wings. Dean crawled forward the scant few inches that took him to the focus of his unconscious needs. A hand came down to rest on his head, fingers long and delicate, the weight at once comforting and frightening, though it did not pressure or direct him in any way.

Dean hesitantly licked along the length of the soft flesh between lean, muscled thighs. The shaft was average in length, though it grew a little as his mouth worshipped the physical form of his personal savior. A soft sigh above sent a ripple of pleasure through his own body, though his dick remained quiescent.

When he took Castiel’s cock in his mouth, the fingers over his head curved to the back of it, though there was still no pressure or guidance. The Angel didn’t thrust or move whatsoever, which compelled Dean to go slow and suck intently as his mouth pulled back on the thickening shaft. He let it fall from his mouth and glanced up for some sign that he was doing well to discover what lust on an Angel’s face looked like…beautiful and terrible, just like the wings that were close enough to touch.

Not that he would dare.

Castiel smiled at him then, something private and almost kind, and said, “One day, Dean. Not tonight.”

Nodding, Dean went back to the flesh that waited. He took it back in his mouth and slid down lovingly, covering it in his spit and tasting the pre-come that lay bitter on his tongue. Losing himself in the glide and rhythm, Dean breathed only when he had to, going further down on the shaft until his nose lay buried against the thatch of pubic hair, his throat stretched almost painfully around the length.

Another soft sigh above was all the warning he got before Castiel came, hips thrusting just a little to go deeper into Dean’s throat. Bliss and peace filled Dean as he swallowed eagerly, aching to be consumed in the Angel’s body, consumed by it until the memories of before disappeared.

Dean finally had to breathe and reluctantly quit the softening cock. He coughed a little and then immediately leaned in to clean what scant come still clung to the shaft. Once he’d finished, Dean knelt there and simply looked up and whispered, “When?”

When would it go away? When would he be forgiven? When would his life have meaning? All of that and more hung in the air between them as he knelt at the feet of the Angel.

Castiel’s hand brushed over his hair a few times, petting him gently as he whispered back, “In time, Dean.”

Dean knew time meant different things for those not human and tried not to feel disappointed.

Cupping Dean’s chin, Castiel told him, “You may serve me again in the future, if you wish.”

He stared back at the Angel, losing himself in the dark gaze as he nodded slowly and answered clearly, “Please.”

Castiel nodded, as if in satisfaction.

* * * *

Rage such as Sam had never before felt filled him as he saw Dean on his knees before Castiel, the angel naked and looking more like an incubus than what he purported to be. Knowing that he would just make things even worse between himself and Dean if he stayed, Sam closed the door silently, turned sharply and jogged back to the car across the parking lot.

He’d just gotten behind the steering wheel when a familiar form walked in front of the car. Sam opened the door again and climbed back out, glaring at Ruby and snarling, “What now?”

Dark eyebrows lifted as she questioned, “Something wrong, Sam?”

Unable to take another second of his life being out of control, Sam grabbed her by the arm and yanked her in tight. She gasped, eyes dilating visibly even with just one working streetlamp in the lot. Then he shoved her into the back seat, scrambling after her with lust and fury riding through him so that his hands shook as he yanked down his zipper.

Ruby worked fast, squirming out of her panties and stretching out along the back seat with her legs open. Sam bared his teeth at her and flipped her over while pushing up her skirt and showing her ass to him.

“Sam, wait…”

But he was beyond waiting and pushed his cock inside her, hauling her roughly to her knees. His fingers laced in her long hair, his grip tight as he fucked her with a punishing pace. She cried out repeatedly, the sound a combination of pain and need as his dick plowed into her cunt without mercy. His hips slapped against her ass and he wanted more, wanted to master her the way Castiel obviously had Dean. Had the angel fucked his brother? Taken his ass the way he’d violated Dean’s mouth?

Sucking on his own fingers, Sam pulled out of Ruby and pushed one of the fingers into her ass all the way.

Ruby gasped, “Sam, oh shit, you’re a little big to do that without help. Just wait a second while I…here!”

Sam almost ignored the bottle of oil she held back to him, something driving him to just possess her without stopping. That urge battled against an older one, though, and lost. Snarling in impatience, he grabbed it and squirted it into her ass, over his dick, and then pushed in two fingers. He twisted them and stretched the tight hole, working it hard and fast while his other hand stroked the oil onto his cock.

Deeming her ready enough, Sam forced his cock through the tight ring. Ruby cried out in pure pain at that, but she didn’t pull away either, so he took that as an okay and plunged the rest of the way into her ass. Sam groaned at the exquisite heat surrounding his shaft, the sensations almost overwhelming. He gripped her hips tight and started fucking her again, hips slapping against her ass for real this time.

His body coiled tighter and tighter, his fury thrumming through him and he cursed, “Fucking slut, going to make you bleed, bitch, make you regret all of what you did,” and wasn’t sure who he cursed; Ruby, or Dean.

Sam’s hand went underneath and his fingers found her cunt wet. He ruthlessly rubbed her clit, rubbed and pinched it as he came closer to coming. Ruby went rigid under him and then shuddered violently, crying out his name as she obviously came. Sam kept moving in her, driving his cock as hard into her as he could, lost in the sweat and come and rage that just would not leave him even in this act.

He pulled all the way out and then shoved back into her pussy, finding it even wetter. Grinning fiercely, he fucked into her until he came, hunching deeper and deeper until she moaned like a broken whore, nails digging into the leather. Sam collapsed on her and didn’t move for several seconds, catching his breath.

When he pulled out and Ruby turned over, she stretched and smirked at him. “Why Sam, I didn’t know you had it in you, loverboy.”

The words fanned the emotions riding just below the surface and he started stroking his dick again. That he was fucking Ruby in the Impala, Dean’s precious Impala, had been an accident. Now, it was a bonus.

Lifting her legs, Sam told her, “You’re about to see just what I have in me.”

Eyes glittering in the near dark, Ruby rested her calves on his shoulders and he pushed in again, trying to lose himself in her body.

Just like Dean obviously had with Castiel.