Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hello, Benny.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“How was your day?”

“Oh, the usual,” Benny sighs and relaxes a bit more, “A bunch of nonsense just leading up to a damn good finale.”

Castiel’s lips twitch, a tiny smile rises at one corner, which is always a huge win. That wicked voice rumbles through the speakers, “That sounds rather presumptuous.”

Stretching his shoulders a bit, Benny smirks back, “Followed all the rules, Daddy.”

“Show me.”

Benny’s all too happy to do just that. Rising to his knees, he crawls closer to the camera. Cock in hand, he flushes just a bit as the beaded tip of the sounding rod catches the light.

“Lovely. And you wore your jewelry all day?”

“Except when I had to piss, yeah, Daddy.”

“Hmm, I believe you, darling. But Daddy wants proof.”

Hell yeah. Benny had anticipated this; grabbing his phone, he dropped several videos into Sharepoint. Fighting the urge to stroke his needy cock, he watches the screen and waits.

That sexy beast hums as he reviews Benny’s proof. Finally a deep breath and, “I’m proud of you, Benny.”

A wave of heat replaces oxygen in Benny’s body, he freaking thrives under his Daddy’s praise, whispering it back.

“How else has my good boy behaved for me?”

Only tilting a tiny bit, Benny’s breathing hard as he proudly shows the spreader. One ring clamps around his cock and the other two spread and clamp his balls.

“Oh, that’s beautiful, Benny. Does it hurt?”

Slightly breathless now, Benny nods, “Yeah, I real good.”

“Wonderful. What else?”

Rolling to hands and knees, Benny knows he just earned a point ‘cause Cas makes some real pretty sounds. In hopes of some extra credit, he reaches back to tug his cheeks for a wider view.

“How does it feel?”

“Oh, I feel it. Swear I thought I was gonna cum about a dozen times today.”

“But you behaved for me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” he stays bent over, just hoping he’s gonna hear those blessed words. 

“Very good. You may remove your plug now.”

Fuck yeah. Gripping the flange, he twists and tugs, slowly working the fat silicone toy out. Putting on a  show, he’s trying damn hard to not bump his sweet spot too much, his balls are already aching and they’re just getting started. Just as the widest part is at his rim, he pauses right on cue.

“Stay there.”

Yup, he knew it.

“Your ass is stretching so nicely, Benny.”

Mumbling a thank you into the mattress, he’s sweating and torn between wishing the guy would let him get the rest out and being told to shove it right back in. 

Finally Cas says, “You may continue.”

The plug is out now and Benny’s entire body shudders, feeling like he just spent an hour in the ring. Again spreading his cheeks, his facial cheeks are just as flushed while he bares it all for Cas.

“Such a beautiful hole, you’ve loosened up so much.”

Benny’s voice cracks just a bit, but can’t blame a man when his body has been begging for more all day, “May I feel it, Daddy?”

“Mmm, yes. Wet one finger,” Cas pauses until Benny does just that. “Now push three fingers into your hole.”

Oh, this Angel has more that just a streak of devil in him and Benny freaking loves it. Doing just what he was told, he presses in. Wincing at the nearly dry entry, the discomfort quickly fades, he’s thrilled with how his body feels. 

“Tell me, Benny.”

“Real sore, Daddy. But damn this is soft!”

“Spread your fingers for me, show Daddy how good you can be.”

Fuck. Scissoring and twisting, he’s pulling against his rim, dragging the spent muscle wider while torturing his own hole.

“Add another finger.”

Now it’s getting snug in here, but Benny’s not about to stop. Nope, he arches his back some more and gets moving. 

“Do you enjoy fingering yourself while I watch?”

Groaning and squeezing his eyes tight, Benny loves it too much. Forcing himself to speak, he admits his truth, “Yes, Daddy, love this.”

“Good. You’re making me very happy, sweetheart.” See, that’s the stuff that gets Benny’s cock throbbing. “You can stop, Benny.”

Dropping his hand, he waits, knows that Cas is staring at his ass.

“You may open your present now.”

Setting the box on the bed, Benny’s been dying from curiosity. Zero doubt it’s going to be something real sweet ‘cause this guy gives the best gifts. Unwrapping a long velvet bag, Benny’s ass clenches in excitement when he sees the huge dildo. It’s near the size of his forearm, thick and heavy, coursed with veins and damn big balls. There’s some real attention to detail, looking just like… oh hell yeah.

“Do you like my cock, Benny?”

“Fuck…”

“Benny.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Yeah, this is gorgeous. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Look in the bag, there’s more.”

Finding a small bag tucked in the large one, Benny shakes the contents onto the bed and moans yet again. A thick captive ring and a long knobby wand. 

“You have a pretty cock, Benny, we’re going to keep it decorated. I expect you to visit a piercing studio tomorrow.”

It takes a minute to look back at the screen, but Benny manages. “Uh, yeah… thing is, I’ve got plans for tomorrow.”

“Change them. I’ll be at your door in two weeks, Benny, and you’ll need that time to heal.”

Cursing under his breath, Benny nods, “Yeah, I’ll make it happen.”

“That’s better. Until then, the rod stays in.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Now, for your sweet ass,” Cas is finally getting down to business, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt. “We’re going to train your hole to take my cock.”

Eyeing the mostrous toy, Benny shivers as he traces a vein, “Pretty sure this thing is more like a leg.”

The Angel chuckles, “Just wait until you see the real thing.”

Like Benny can think about anything else… he’s staring so greedily that he almost missed the command.

“Kiss Daddy’s cock.”

Standing the cock upright, Benny bends and gets right to it. Lining the fat head with open-mouthed kisses, he works around the beast, then down the shaft. Cas praises him often, encouraging him to use more tongue or nip right there. Knowing the stud’s gotta be stroking himself at the same time, well, Benny’s here for it. Suckling the silicone balls now, he groans when ordered to stop.

“Your mouth is lovely, Benny, makes Daddy’s cock feel so good,” Cas sounds worked up, his voice nearly a growl. “But I want to feel your soft ass now.”

Oh, he knew this was coming, but actually hearing the words is intense. It takes some muscle to get himself in the right position and to keep the giant cock lined up; finally he resorts to moving the show to the floor. Ass to the camera, Benny’s using the bed post to brace himself as he squats. There! Just the tip is nudging against his rim now, that pucker sore but spreading. Lowering a bit more, he’s such a glutton for Cas’ praise that he’s tempted to just drop his full weight and take the whole cock now.

“Easy, sweetheart, Daddy doesn’t want to hurt you…” 

Benny eases up.

“... yet.”

Fuck, that’s exactly what will drive Benny right off the edge. Cas keeps him going until Benny’s sweating from the strain, feeling like he’s being split in half. But even then he’s only got about a third of the cock in him ‘cause this thing’s so big it could be written off on taxes as a dependent. 

“Such a good boy, Benny. Now get up.”

His quads are shaking, Benny has to pull against the bed post to actually stand. 

“Daddy wants to cum in your mouth.”

Repositioning the laptop, Benny watches the gorgeous guy as he does his best to impale his own throat. Doesn’t take long before Cas has that look, the twitching eyelid and blazing eyes, Benny knows just what to do: he gags himself on Cas’ cock, choking and sputtering. That does it, the stud makes some real savage sounds that Benny can’t wait to hear in person, can only imagine how much cum is pouring over those elegant fingers and damn he wants a taste of that.

Keeping his mouth sealed around the silicone cock, Benny waits for permission to stop.

‘Cause that’s just part of Cas’ thing, the Angel leaves him like that for a damn long time. As in, Cas went off screen for several minutes, finally showing back up minus his shirt and sipping on a mug of something. 

“Can you taste me?”

Benny nods.

“Are you going to continue to behave for Daddy?”

Again, a nod.

“Perfect. I’m finished with your mouth for now.”

Releasing the massive cock, Benny drops his head to the mattress and just gasps for air. 

“Show me your cock.”

Rolling over and sitting up, Benny grips himself and watches the screen.

“So pretty. Hmm, let’s see how much you’ve loosened up.”

Now this part has Benny’s hair standing on-end, he’s got a real thing for opening up a pisshole, but before now it’s always been him doing it to someone else. Sliding the rod out takes forever; while not an actual horse like Cas, Benny’s more than well-endowed and this rod goes the full path. Clamping down on the urge to piss, he’s trembling when the sound is free. 

“Press your finger into your slit.”

The tip of his pinky gets lodged in there and holy hell he loves it! 

“Hmm, we’ll have to work on that.”

“Sorry, Daddy.”

“It’s alright, baby. Your cock is going to be so well-trained soon.”

And now Benny’s shivering in this heated room, his now-empty slit oozing and dripping down his shaft.

Which of course Cas sees, “You want that.”

Nodding is difficult, words twice as hard, “Real bad.”

“Good. Stroke your cock for Daddy.”

Every touch is already too much as his hand smears the thick droplets back in, he’s so far past the point of being over-stimulated that his cock could just break right off and that’d be less intense. But the decision ain’t his and he’s damn well gonna earn some more praise. 

“Lick your hand, Benny.”

He does, reveling in the brief respite.

“You like tasting yourself.”

Benny mumbles, “Yes, Daddy.”

“Well, you have been quite good today, so let’s get you some more. You may cum.”

Finally! Gripping his cock again, stroking harder now, Benny gives it his all, that bliss just around the corner. His orgasm hits like a MACK truck, he shouts as a deluge of cum stripes the screen. Each burst has his eyes rolling back, so intense, he’s delirious. 

“Show Daddy.”

Blinking several times doesn’t help enough, he has to shake his head to get the marbles rolling again. Lifting a shaky hand to the screen, he spreads his fingers.

“Mmm, you made a mess, baby. Clean it up.”

Something damn close to a whimper nearly escaped Benny’s mouth, only blocked by his own fingers. Sucking each one clean, he licks across his palm and the back of his hand before holding it for inspection again. 

“Such good behavior. After you shower, both plugs are going back in. Send me photos.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

There’s a muffled moan from the corner of the room. Before Benny can deal out punishment, Cas catches the sound. Tilting his pretty head, the Angel demands, “Show me.”

Panning the laptop, Benny makes sure that the camera picks up the misbehaving captive. That long body is stretched as the tan beauty hangs from an eyehook, limbs wrapped in black rope. A spreader bar keeps those thighs wide open and a hook in his ass keeps the pretty thing still. Thin chains threaded through a series of rings; nipple to belly to cock to guiche. Mouth gagged, bright green eyes shine with welling tears as Benny approaches.

“This is my pet, Dean.”

On the screen, Cas smirks, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Fuck yeah.

Chapter Text

 Kicking the door shut, Dean shouts, “I'm home!”

All he hears in response is a low grumble, which means the big guy’s gonna be grumpy. 

Tossing his bag onto a sofa and kicking off his shoes before wandering up the stairs to find his partner, Dean's stretching his worn-out shoulders. He finds Benny in the master bathroom, thick body dripping as he steps out of the shower. 

“Hi, babe,” Dean snags a kiss.

“Hey. Grab me a towel.”

Doing just that and getting right to drying off this big, sexy body, Dean keeps an eye on that new ring and asks, “What's with the frown?”

There's a low Creole curse, then, “Sorry, cher , that's me bringing work home. C'mere.”

Happy to curl up between those huge arms, Dean nuzzles in, loving how this soft beard rubs his cheek. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Should, but not today,” there's a nip at Dean's neck, Benny’s all soft hugs and sharp teeth, yummy. “How was your shift?”

“No complaints. Had a big group come over from Dante’s, not a lick of English but they know how to tip.”

“Hmph,” Benny takes the towel and finishes the rundown himself, “The casino’s been good for business.”

Propping a hip against the vanity, Dean smirks while watching his beast of a partner, “Nah, Crowley's good at sending guys over, but it's my sweet ass that brings the cash.”

“Can't argue that. You onstage is just about the finest thing I've ever seen.”

Pouting now, Dean rubs a hand below his crop tee, trailing low as he gives a squirm that always gets Benny heated, “Just about?”

“Mmhmm,” Benny crowds close, one big hand sliding under Dean's skirt to cup his ass, “only one thing better.”

Dean arches into the touch, “Better choose your words carefully, stud.”

“Oh I don't gotta think, just can't get enough of this sweet boy all wrapped up,” those fingers knead into Dean's cheeks, “chained to the cross or hanging, behaving for me.”

“Love being good for you, Papa,” it's a moan, Dean never can help getting worked up after, well, work. It's damn hard to dance on a pole or in a cage all night, rubbing himself silly and never getting any release. Sure, he gives some real special private dances, but even while at the other club, Dean's not allowed to actually cum. Nope, his balls ache all day and night until, well, if Benny gives permission. And Dean fucking loves it.

“I know, baby,” Benny toys with his tail, tugging and pushing, “You can show me in just a few minutes.”

Perpetually horny, Dean pushes against that finger, welcoming more and deeper, “Could show you right now.”

“Mmm, can't, I won't stop, this ass is too perfect.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I know you're gonna make it up to me.”

“Oh, I'm gonna do somethin’, alright. Mmm, gorgeous,” another bitey kiss and a slap on Dean's ass, “Clean up.”

Alone now, Dean strips for the umpteenth time tonight, though not for an audience now. Clothes in a small heap, he works his plug out. It takes a minute ‘cause it's kinda huge and he doesn't want to damage his tail. This new one is long enough to reach his knees, so soft and fluffy, always a big hit with his fans. 

A steamy shower clears away the body oils and sweat, leaving his skin fresh and ready to be reddened. Finding the dressing bench in their closet empty, Dean grins; since Benny didn’t set out anything, Dean’s going naked. 

Benny’s in the kitchen, beer in one hand, phone in the other and a frown on his pretty face. But that turns to a sweet smile when he glances up at Dean, “Lookin’ good, Winchester.”

With a regal sniff and quip of, “Don’t objectify me, Lafitte,” Dean snags the beer for a long draw. “Either we talk this out tonight or no more work ‘til tomorrow.”

“Shit, I know, just having a hard time letting it go.”

“It’s Sunday, Benny, time to not let something else go.”

Yeah, that worked. The stud locks his phone and grabs another beer, “How’re you feeling, darlin’?”

“Mostly good, feet ache,” flexing his toes to relieve some of the cramping. “Thought I broke in a new pair, man was I wrong.”

“Guess I’m gonna have to keep you offa them, huh?”

That tingle would be Dean’s cock reacting to so many possibilities, never knowing just what his lover has planned. He gives a happy yelp when a strong arm hefts him onto the island, the granite cool on his bare ass, “Thanks, Papa.”

“Mmm, been missing this sweet body,” that beard drags across Dean’s collarbone. 

Letting out an appreciative moan, Dean loops a leg behind Benny’s thigh, “I miss your big cock. You healed up enough yet?”

“It’s gonna happen either way.”

Squirming a bit, Dean nips back, “I kinda love it.”

“Aw fuck, baby,” Benny’s eyes are heated. “Got my own jewelry like you.”

Which has Dean drooling like every second since Benny got that command from his Dom, filling up his cock and ass. But when that wicked beast told Benny to get his cock pierced, Dean could barely bite his tongue while hanging there waiting his turn. He messed up, though, whimpered while watching Benny plug himself, it was so hot. Every time Benny gets in a mood to be Dommed, he amps up afterwards and Dean’s night ends in screams, and that one sure did. It’s the fucking best. 

“Speaking of which,” Benny replaces Dean’s beer with a Jack n’ Coke, “drink up.” 

Taking a gulp, Dean wiggles his eyebrows, “You tryin’ to get me drunk?”

“Maybe a bit, maybe just real full ,” and there’s some clever fingerwork around Dean’s cock, tugging at the beaded ring.

“Fuck yeah!” Two more rounds go down while they hover and decompress from their day, followed by a full glass of water. Dean’s teeth are gonna be swimming before long, especially with the thick, knobby rod Benny’s working in, the tip finally slipping to the deepest point possible. Groaning against Benny’s shoulder, Dean’s so ready.

The alcohol hadn’t even settled in before Benny has Dean arranged just right. Always true to his word, Benny’s got Dean’s feet in the air, and the rest of him hogtied on his belly. Sure, Dean’s comfy enough on the playroom bed, cock trapped against the mattress and the rest of his body restrained so completely all he can do is blink and breathe through his nose. The dildo gag presses far enough into his throat that he’s stuffed, jaw well acclimated to the ache.

“Now this is just perfect, boy,” Benny’s tracing Dean’s dramatically arched spine, all the way down to rub across Dean’s always-gaping rim, “Gonna keep your loose hole empty until you prove how well you can behave.”

He would be trembling if he could, Dean has to settle for whimpering around his gag.

“There ya go. Now, stay,” Benny smirks and kisses Dean’s forehead.

Oh, the guy thinks he’s funny. Watching as the thick stud shucks his shorts, Dean’s eyes lock onto that huge cock. They both have a fetish for piercings, but it’s always been Dean’s body they’ve experimented with. Hell, Dean has 20 tiny scars in two rows up his back from the corset hoops a few years ago. He loved them, feeling so sexy when Benny would lace him up, but the hoops had caught every fabric and made it difficult to strip without a snag or two and Dean is a perfectionist with his craft. Though… since all he can do is watch and think right now, he’s planning a proposal to redo the rings before they take their summer vacation. Holy shit, he’d love to wear his ribbons and a hollow-hip bikini bottom that show off the dermals along his groin, let Benny parade him around on the beach. 

His mind is playing out the post-beach scenes when he hears Benny’s voice and snaps back to the moment. The guy’s sitting on the wooden chair that Dean has spent countless hours tied to, but Benny’s limbs are free. A laptop is open on the spanking bench, Dean can just barely glimpse the screen showing his big stud adjusting his pose for full bam effect.

Always knowing when Dean’s looking, Benny turns and blows a kiss, “Better stay quiet, boy.”

Dean blinks several times.

The laptop chimes, a video call that is definitely right on time. Sure, Dean can’t see a clock, but from what he’s overheard from Castiel, he’s freaking strict and wouldn’t be late. Ah, there’s that insanely sexy voice.

“Hello, Benny.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“How was your day?”

Those two always start out the same, the intro to some freaking intense scenes.

“Not gonna complain.” But Dean can hear the faintest tone right there, knows his man.

And apparently Castiel is as observant as he is strict, “Tell me.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Mmm, I don’t question your ability, darling. What is it?”

Benny’s shoulders roll, a sign of his stress and dammit, Dean wants to hold and soothe him. Will later, right now he has to behave. He listens in, “Our middle man’s dodgy. Got some complaints from staff at Bleib.”

The response is sharp and instant, “Details.”

“Ah,” Benny glances over at Dean.

“Show me, Benny.”

With a huff, the Cajun rotates the laptop so the camera is facing right at Dean. Fuck, seeing himself in the mini-screen is so hot, Dean’s thrilled with how curled back he is, elbows nearly touching where they’re bound in three spots. Yup, he’s freaking proud.

“Such a lovely pet. Astounding knotwork, Benny. Alright, but we will speak in the morning. I do not allow misbehavior in any realm.”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Benny sounds kinda relieved as he turns the screen back, “Thanks.”

“Of course. You take very good care of your pet, I understand your worry. Now, show me.”

Watching Benny’s neck tilt back, Dean just knows he’s hefting that huge cock up, showing off the thick ring looped through the crown.

“Beautiful. How does it feel?”

“A little sensitive, not much more.”

“Mmm, give it a tug for me.”

Fuck, Dean knows exactly what that’s gonna feel like, having had Benny do the same to each and every one of his piercings, keeping them stimulated beyond reason. Yup, Benny groans, though Dean can’t see what he’s doing.

“Perfect. I’ll examine you thoroughly when I arrive,” oh fuck, Dean felt that in his bones. Benny found a seriously wicked Dom. Of course, given how dominant Benny is, it’s no surprise it would take a Mega Dom to leash him. A Mega Dom, like a Megalodon. Ha. Yeah, he’s totally gonna use that quip tomorrow.

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Are you wondering why I didn’t tell you to clamp your balls, Benny?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Very good. I want them nice and full. Are they?”

“Yeah, haven’t, fuck, haven’t cum in two days.”

Dean has no sympathy ‘cause that’s nothing; it’s been four days for him.

“Hmm, that’s a start. I’m tempted to make you wait until I arrive.” The words have Benny shuddering, it’s like watching a mountain during an earthquake, so hot. “But your talent for artwork has me intrigued. Show me your pet again.”

Holding his breath, Dean stays absolutely still while the camera’s on him, just staring into the lens.

“I would like to see more.”

With a low curse, Benny’s on his feet and circling the bed, no doubt getting Dean from every angle.

“Superb. What a beautiful boy. Does he behave for you?”

“Most times,” Benny winks at Dean, “Others, he gets feisty and needs a heavy hand.”

“How heavy?”

“Mmm, enough that he doesn’t dare misbehave for a long minute.”

A long and quiet minute passes, Dean’s eyes drooping in his tipsy headspace. When a voice rises, he startles and nearly jerks his legs, which woulda sucked ‘cause that would have him choking.

“Benny.”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“This is a question that has no repercussions. It’s your decision alone and will not affect our relationship should you decline. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Your pet is exquisite. I’m finding myself wanting to know exactly what that golden body feels like, to see what he can take and how sweet his tears taste.”

Fuck.

“Would you be willing to share your pet?”

Benny rolls his neck to catch Dean’s eyes, it’s a long, silent conversation. Dean blinks three times. Benny answers, “Look, Cas…”

“Speak plainly, Benny.”

“My boy’s damn precious, I’m not good at sharing. Oh, this sexy thing is a tease, could make a dead man’s cock throb. But no one touches him at the clubs, not if they wanna keep their limbs and teeth.”

“I understand.”

Dammit, Benny’s agitated now, casting glances between the camera and Dean, “I’m not saying no, just… man, I trust you or none of this would be happening.”

“Thank you for the trust, Benny.”

“Fuck. You earned it. Listen, if babyboy’s okay with us expanding, then yeah, we can… explore more tonight.”

“Dean,” well fuck, he startles hearing that gravelled voice aimed at him, which led to being chokes by the shibari ropes. “Stay still, lovely boy. Do you consent to me directing how your master touches you?”

Dean’s heaving against the gag, can hardly breathe through his nose in this rogue wave shipwrecking him outta nowhere.

“Benny?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“Would you please remove the gag? No matter the response, I would like to hear the word myself.”

“Yeah,” Benny’s cheeks are flushed and it’s in a really good way, which is just freaking wild. His gentle fingers unsnap the leather strap, slipping the dripping dildo out of Dean’s needy mouth. “Aw, baby, lookin’ so pretty. Sweet thing, you tipsy or drunk?”

Licking his lips several times, Dean just gasps, “Somewhere in between.”

There’s a deep hum from the laptop but neither look at it just yet.

“Babyboy, it’s your choice, always. I’m happy with anything my cher wants, you just gotta tell me.”

Sure, Benny always respects the few boundaries they’ve established at a personal level. And at work, Benny’s comment isn’t exaggerating; hell, some dick tried to force himself on Dean about two years ago and the local news reported a headless, handless, junkless torso floating in a river the next night. There were others, none that Dean deigned himself to worry about once his Papa knew what happened. Benny’s the best.

What should he say? Talking about playing outside their relationship is fun, and they both agreed Benny needed a hand on his own throat, one that Dean just couldn’t provide. But Dean… he loves his Papa, his partner of over 10 years, it’s them. He gets everything from his lover, needs nothing more. So, maybe he just wants more? Dammit, this is a tight situation, not even counting the ropes binding him into blessed submission.

Benny crouches down, they’re eye level, those soft sky blues on him, “Talk to me.”

Here goes honesty, “I don’t know.”

“It’s alright, baby, don’t have to be sure right now.”

“Dean.” That voice came from the laptop and it’s so stimulating to hear it aimed directly at him.

Licking his puffy lips, “Hey.”

“Hello, Dean. Do you know who I am?”

Nodding, then catching himself before getting a hard spank across his ass, he stares at the insanely hot guy on the screen, “Yes.”

“Would you consent to share your, mmm, delicious submission with me? This would be Benny’s hands on you, directed by my command.”

Said that way, it doesn’t sound so… Words are hard. Yeah, Dean’s a stripper, an exotic dancer, a BDSM exhibitionist, but the only one who touches him is the only person he truly trusts: Benny.  He croaks through a raw throat, “Benny?”

“Sweetheart,” those lips land on his cheek, “Love you to the stars. Not gonna do something without you being onboard.”

Believing his man without a single doubt, Dean would sigh if his shoulders weren’t squeezed into rope vices. He whispers, “Okay.”

“Nuh uh, honey, use your words.”

“Yes, Papa, just… just this time.”

His favorite chest swells, Benny looking pleased and dammit that has Dean wishing he could wag his tail. Soft kisses land before Benny gets to his feet and to the camera, “Yeah, Daddy, he can tell you.”

“Dean?”

“Ah, yes, I, um, consent.” Fuck it’s weird to say anything to someone not Benny.

“Thank you, lovely boy. Benny, your wonderful cock has been through so much lately, please feed it to your pet.”

Well fuck, this is starting out hella good. Not like Dean can move anywhere, he’s just an open mouth and throat for Benny to fill at any moment and this is a good moment. Yup, his lips are stretched, already slurping down every inch until he again can’t breathe. Oxygen’s overrated, this cock is so much better, just a slow, brutal pump into his face.

“Very good, boys, you’re doing so well,” there goes that otherworldly voice. “Darling, does your pet have a trained gag reflex?”

A wicked smirk beams right down on Dean’s bound head, “Sure does, Daddy.”

“Show me.”

Chapter Text

This warm, wet mouth is the best, always gets Benny moaning real quick. Keeping himself fully buried until Cas gives the command to ease up, that spiked tongue ring rubs just right, sweet lips spread so wide.

“Pull your cock out, Benny.”

He does, a bit mesmerized by the string of drool leaking from Dean's pretty mouth. Those big emeralds stare up at him, face flushed and perfect.

“Your pet took your entire cock.”

Benny grins at the screen, “He's well-trained.”

“Remarkable. Replace the gag.”

Buckling the short dildo in place, Benny waits for the next command.

“Spread his hole.”

Moving the laptop for a good view, Benny slicks up his thumbs and gives Dean's pucker a slow tug. The soft ring just gives, always ready.

“Oh, that's lovely. Does he take your fist?”

“Yeah, Daddy. This sweet ass swallows half my arm.”

“You must be very proud. Hmm, your rope work is perfect, but I would like to see just how loose your pet’s hole is. Adjust the lines, Benny.”

Only takes a minute of deft unknotting to have the neckline undone and some simple rearranging to get Dean's bound legs spread. Securing the ropes to the bedposts gets these sleek thighs spread but keeps the long legs curled up nice and tight.

“Place your hand on his ass.”

Benny does.

“Spread your finger… Now make a fist… Mmm, you have a large hand, Benny.” Fuck, this guy is intense. “Show me what your pet can take.”

“Yes, Daddy.” A thick layer of lube wets the way as Benny works four fingers right into Dean's hole, crooning filthy praise as he goes. Each rub across that sweet spot has Dean clenching, but he’s a good boy and relaxes just as quick. Nudging his thumb in, Benny always loves seeing this ass spread for him, just taking so much. Twisting his fist nice and deep, he sees the faint sheen of sweat along Dean's spine, knowing his lover’s dying to get some release. That's not happening.

“Deeper, Benny.”

Slow and steady, Benny can just about reach Dean's tongue, wearing this sexy body like a glove.

“Harder.”

Amping up now, Benny’s punch fisting his pet, would love to cum while elbow deep in here, but he's not in charge right now.

“Stop… Show me.”

Twisting out takes a minute ‘cause he was damn far in there. Empty now, this perfect ass just stays open, gaping and begging for his cock.

“He hasn't moved.”

Shaking his head, Benny smiles at the camera, “Nah, he's damn good.”

“Hmm, perhaps a reward is due. Daddy wants to taste that soft hole. Use your tongue, Benny.”

Giving a long lick around the stretched rim before diving in, Benny could eat this ass all night. He licks and laps, dragging his beard which always gets Dean riled up. Sure enough, there's a muffled moan. Cracking a sharp slap against Dean's inner thigh, Benny growls, “Didn't tell you to speak.” And Benny gets right back to his buffet. 

“Stop now.”

Wiping his wet lips with the back of his hand, Benny waits.

“Leave the camera where it is. I want to see that pretty hole while we open yours, Benny.”

Fuck. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Bend over next to your pet… Show me how much you love your plug.”

Oh, he does. Giving the fat toy some practiced twists and nudges, Benny’s got goosebumps. On his knees just inches from Dean, fucking himself in front of a live camera, it's got him falling into a wild headspace. His cock throbs and balls ache, but his ass feels just as good, he's loving everything about it.

Which Cas must see, the bastard, “Remove your plug, darling.”

Biting back a frustrated groan, he instead mutters a yes . As expected, he's told to stay right when the widest part is bulging against his rim. The stretch is incredible, he fully gets why Dean loves this so much.

“Continue… Now show Daddy.”

Giving his cheeks a tug, Benny trembles in anticipation.

“Beautiful. I can tell you've been behaving.”

That's the praise he craves, it's addicting. “Yeah, Daddy, I always wear my plug.”

“I'm very proud, Benny. Hmm, soon enough your lovely hole will stay open like Dean's.”

That image flashes through his mind and Benny's gasping for a breath, still holding himself open. 

“You like that.”

“Yeah… so much.”

“Very good. Do you have a strap-on harness?”

Thrown by the question, it takes Benny a second to respond, “Ah, yeah.”

“Get it.”

Up and looking through the drawers, Benny feels empty without his plug. Finding the harness still in original packaging, he gets it open and held up to the camera.”

“Good. I shared instructions in the chat, please follow them. I'll be back in five minutes.”

“Okay, Daddy.” The video goes dark and Benny reads through the directions. Huh.

Unbinding all the knots and the gag, he rubs each limb while releasing Dean. “How ya doin’, baby?”

“I was comfy,” Dean rolls his neck with a pretty pout.

Chuckling and snagging a kiss, Benny teases, “Bet you were, ya fiend. How about the rest?”

Dean shrugs, his cheeks rosy now, “I'm alright. It's just… different.”

“That it is. But anything happened you don't like, you tell me, got it?”

“Promise.”

“That's my boy. Now,” he grabs the mixed drink from the table, “drink up.”

The beauty does, obedient but with some sass, "I'm gonna explode.”

“Only when I say.” Yeah, he sees the tremble across that golden body, perfect. Placing a final kiss, he slides the dildo gag back in place. It's a bit of a fight to get Cas’ cloned cock through the harness rings, this thing is a monster. When he buckles the harness in place over that sweet cock, Dean's eyes are huge. Fuck, this so gonna be wild. “On your back, boy.”

Long arms are stretched straight and wrists together, tied to a post. Same with Dean's ankles,  with several could around slim thighs. Bound and beautiful, Dean's mouth is full, ass empty and his cock covered by the massive toy. 

The laptop chimes, Benny quick to accept the call, “Hey, Daddy.”

“Let's see if you were good.”

Eager to please this wicked stud, Benny aims the camera around to show off his handiwork. 

“Very well done, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“Kiss my cock, Benny.”

Kneeling beside his partner, Benny’s got that dizzy, spinny feeling again. It's a damn good feeling and he thrives off it while placing kisses around the massive toy.

“Keep going, I want to feel your throat.”

He gets to it, bracing himself over Dean and sucking down Cas’ cock. Fuck. Some kind of frenzy takes over and Benny's impaling his own throat, desperate to taste and feel and please.

“There you go, baby, you can do it, take more.”

Benny hears a whimper but can't be sure if it was Dean or, well, him. Doesn't matter right now, he’s got work to do. Only when he's gagging does Cas let him up.

“You got my cock nice and wet, Benny. Mmm, so beautiful with your mouth full.”

Benny could roll to his back and beg for a belly rub.

“Ride my cock, Daddy wants to feel your soft hole.”

Ah, that whimper is definitely Benny, barely catching the sound before it escapes again. Straddling Dean now, he's sweating while working his ass down this huge toy. The stretch is incredible and he's hungry for it. When he manages to open his eyes again, he finds Dean's gems staring at him with a look so intense that Benny loses his balance. Oh, he doesn't fall over, he falls down , all his weight dropping over the massive cock. The sound that tears out of his throat is the closest he's ever come to actually screaming, the head of the toy speared near his lungs. 

“Benny!”

Waving a shaking hand towards the laptop, Benny tries to catch his breath as the sharp pain morphs into a different sensation. 

“Benny, are you injured?”

“I'm okay,” the words are a bit slurred now, his fingers curl around Dean's taut waist. “Just need a minute.”

“No, we're ending this now. P–.”

Nah, he ain't stopping, already got this far, “Cas, just… I'm good.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yeah, yeah. Doesn't hurt now.”

“But if it does, you tell me.”

“Will. Feels good, just so fucking big.” Giving a slow roll of his hips, he feels every inch of this beast rubbing everything. “Fuck.”

“There you go, darling. Your ass feels incredible.”

Eyes rolling back, Benny doesn't have a tail to wag but he sure as hell puts that much more oomph into earning some more praise. He's stuffed so full, every movement has his sweet spot singing. Battering himself apart, fireworks are flashing, he can't wait to feel this with Cas’ actual cock, to feel this beast throb and pulse, filling him with molten cum. Fuck, his own cock is leaking as it bounces, droplets landing on Dean's smooth belly. Thirsty for it, Benny swipes a finger through and sucks it down, moaning at his own taste.

“So good, Benny, you keep my cock so hard. Daddy needs to cum.”

With a groan that is just filthy, Benny rides like his life depends on it. 

“Cum with me, baby, we're cumming on your pretty pet.”

Oh fuck. Two strokes to his own cock and he's shooting ropes of cum across Dean's chest. Ass clenching around the huge toy while he rides out a mind-blowing orgasm, Benny stripes Dean while cumming on Cas’ cock. He hears Cas, that feral growl he makes when cumming, so wicked that Benny feels a final pulse as the last spurt of cum dribbles out

Gingerly lifting off the toy, he's trying to be careful and not put any more weight on Dean, but fuck his bones have melted to jelly. Bucking up and moving, he drops to the bed beside his lover and waits for his brain to put itself back together. 

“Show me.”

Following the order takes some time but he's trying. Rolling to his weak knees, Benny aims his ass at the screen. 

“Mmm, much better. That's what I like to see.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” his voice sounded rough to his own ears. Petting Dean's hip, the constant trembles have his mind clearing up awful quick. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yes. But I'm not done tonight.”

Surprised, Benny looks at the screen. For a guy that just came like a dragon minutes ago, Cas looks worked up.

“Your pet behaved so well, Benny, holding my cock for you to ride. Daddy wants to thank him.”

Okay, now this whimper was all Dean, those big eyes doubling in size at the sex god's loaded comment. But Dean blinks three times, so this is happening.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good,” that smirk on Cas’ face sharpens.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Dean loves his partner with every fiber of his being, entirely and absolutely. Second to that, he trusts Benny, knows he’s always safe with his grizzly, there are no doubts. Hell, Benny literally had his back from the moment they met. Hadn’t been in Vegas a solid month by then, Dean’s working at a kinda seedy and dips into the alley for a smoke break. Not wanting to share his joint, he swaggered further away from the club which wasn’t the brightest idea, but he was 20 and poor decisions were kinda standard. So when two Neanderthals cornered him, Dean was fucked. Or so he had thought, but out of the shadows comes this mountain of a man with a sweet voice and wicked fists. The sexy breast insisted on escorting Dean back to the club, where Dean then insisted upon giving Benny the best lap dance of his life. They’ve been inseparable since and Dean seriously can't remember not loving Benny, it’s just the best. 

Within a few years, Benny officially retired from the UFC and together they opened Ravissant , where the big guy handles operations and Dean thrives under the spotlights. Given their enthusiastic and hella broad extracurricular interests, rather than visit BDSM or niche clubs that were always just a bit off, they opened Bleib just a coupla years ago. Their business model caught on and holy hell did they gain some loyal members and the prospect of expanding, adding locations in Miami, L.A. and Chicago. Fuck, their dungeons at featured at Exxxotica, along with Benny hosting bondage workshops and Training Kiyaya , with Dean giving his own feature performance with his iconic Wolf’s Cry routine. Missed the last one, though, freaking Covid caught him, but Benny made it and was approached by Castiel freaking Novak. The man’s a legend in their circles, rumor is he’s the most wicked of all the Angels, which Dean’s wholeheartedly believing now. But the guy proposed a partnership with Benny to expand their clubs internationally, and definitely has the means to bankroll the venture. And at the same time, Benny found just the man who could MegaloDom him - ha, that really needs to be a thing.

The point Dean’s tipsy and lusty brain is circling is that no matter what, they can and do explore whatever their interests are at the moment. And boy howdy there’s a lot on that list. What Dean has never been into is topping Benny. Sure, he loves working his tongue or fingers into his lover’s tight ass to drive him wild, and Benny can suck Dean off with some extraordinary ability. Early on they experimented with Dean fucking Benny and it… it was quickly shoved to the meh pile. Nope, Dean knows his role, their dynamics, what works for them. Or he did… 

Seeing Benny ride the massive dildo literally on Dean, feeling the powerful bear battering himself, hearing those sounds, it sparked something in Dean. Interest, desire, need and holy fuck Dean would give anything to experience that again! Just with Benny riding Dean’s cock. Wow. So that’s gonna be a whole conversation. Later.

Right now, he’s close enough to an aneurysm with the sheer thrill of not knowing what’s gonna happen without letting his horny brain imagine feeling Benny’s ass clench around him as— and we’re moving on. Focusing on the conversation between two seriously sexy voices, Dean just tries to breathe and will the pressure in his groin to ease up.

“Do you allow your pet to cum?”

Fuck, this guy doesn’t beat around the bush, so freaking intense.

Benny’s still breathing hard as he winks at Dean, “Sometimes, though it’s damn fun to make him wait.”

“Mmm, I want to see his face while his lovely cock weeps. Benny, does he cum untouched?”

If Dean wasn’t so well-trained, he’d whimper.

“That and on command.”

“Magnificent.”

“Thing is, Daddy, babyboy’s a bit full, soon as I unplug him, he’s gonna leak like a faucet.”

There’s silence for a long moment, Dean’s wondering if the wifi got knocked out or something. 

Oh, there’s the gravelled voice, “I must see this.”

Fucking fuck fuckfuckfuck. Okay, not that Dean’s shy, he loves being watched, it’s in his DNA. And when it comes to watersports, he’s an MVP in production and showmanship. So why the hell does this feel so… so what ? Not uncomfortable, just maybe like how auditioners do in front of judges on America’s Got Talent or something, like he has to impress the guy. 

Said-guy tells Benny to check the chat for instructions and the screen is dark again. 

Benny massages Dean’s shin with one hand, scrolling the message with the other. There’s a thoughtful hum coming from his stud before he removes the gag, “Hey, baby.”

Dean wiggles his jaw to settle the stretched joint, his own voice gruff, “‘M okay.”

Working the knots loose, Benny asks, “Think you’re up to a couple minutes on your feet?”

Giving his gradually unbound legs little tests, nothing hurts, though his feet took a beating at work. “Yeah.”

“Atta boy. Here,” Benny offers a small sip of water that feels awesome down Dean’s raw throat. Big hands rearrange Dean, rope looping around the tops of his thighs and a tortoise around his belly. Some skilled twists and Dean’s standing on the bare floor, bent over in half with wrists tied to ankles. He’s staring between his own legs, the upside down pressure already making his head heavy but at least he doesn’t have to control his balance, the ropes do that. Benny slicks his ass with lube, getting it nice and dripping wet, bet the shine is really going to pick up for the camera that is moved lower. 

When Castiel returns, Dean can see the screen, that voice giving him goosebumps, “What a lovely sight, I can see deep inside your pet, Benny.”

“Yeah, Daddy, I love this sweet ass,” a big hand rubs over Dean’s cheek. 

“Insert the massager now.”

Even as Benny nudges in what’s gotta be the blue prostate massager based on the double-head right into Dean’s ass and against his studded taint, Dean has to bite his tongue.

“Open your mouth, Dean, I want to hear how you cry.”

That would be a whimper now, just slipping right out, and it amps up when Benny turns the toy on. Days without release plus this whole wild scene, Dean’s sweet spot is already tortured, but add in a completely full bladder and the knobby rod seated way deep inside, he’s a mess. The vibrations travel over and through everything, he can feel them in his tongue, the ring there clattering against his teeth. It’s too much, he can’t hold on but the rod is too thick and will totally ruin his orgasm if he cums now, but oh fuck he needs to!

There’s a sharp slap across his upper thigh, “Eyes open, boy.”

So much easier said than done ‘cause gravity itself is pulling them closed. But he’s obedient, Dean can do this. Forcing them open, he sees the upside down face on the screen, can only really distinguish vibrant sapphires. Looks like that mouth moves but Dean can’t hear much past the thudding of his pulse. A moment of fiery pain has him breathless as Benny twists out the rod, then the intensity of the massager skyrockets. Dean screams as his approaching orgasm shatters his body and mind, but his bladder is needier and he’s spraying across his own chest and face, filling his nostrils and pooling in his gaping mouth, his cock throbbing as he pisses. It feels never-ending, just keeps gushing as the pressure there subsides for an instant before he’s cumming, ribbons adding to the sloppy, dripping mess. His scream leaves his throat raw, now broken whimpers as the massager keeps pulsing against his severely oversensitive sweet spot. 

Stuff happens, things move, all Dean knows is the ethereal headspace he’s floating in. A voice that’s not Benny says something; oh, it’s probably that Angel praising Benny or something. That’s nice. Dean just likes it right here, held in Benny’s arms, with soft kisses along his cheek. 

Senses slowly sharpen and Dean’s fully conscious again. He turns to nuzzle into Benny’s neck, curling closer, “Hey, Papa.”

“Welcome back, darlin’. My sweet boy made a mess.”

Snorting a laugh, Dean squirms a bit, “Bet.”

“How’s the head?”

“Think I lost like a third of my brain.”

“Damn, there wasn’t much to start– ha!” Benny just laughs when Dean pinches, “You were so good, made me damn proud.”

“Hmm, fine, I forgive you. Um, not right this second, but we gotta talk about, y’know, this.”

“Yeah, we do. First up, hydrate and shower.”

Dean pushes to sit on his own, arching his back to work out the faint strain, “Last thing I wanna see is more water.”

“That’s my imp.”

“Love you, babe,” Dean drops a kiss and climbs to his feet, rolling his neck and turning– “Uh… hey.”

The laptop is still on and that’s Cas’ face watching them. Shit, who has eyes that big? And holy hell the guy looks sintense.

Here comes the I chew glass for dinner voice, “I had to be sure you’re alright, Dean.”

“Um, I’m good…” Dean’s having a hard time blinking, this must be what deer feel like when headlights flash on them. The silence is long and heavy and Dean doesn’t know why.

Giving a curt nod, Cas leans back, “Good. Goodnight, Dean. Benny, I’ll contact you in the morning while on my way.”

“Got it. ‘Night.”

The screen goes black.

Trying to brush away the strange interaction and the bizarre bounciness in his stomach, Dean nudges Benny’s shoulder, “I’m tired.”

Which gets him the perfect ride to the shower, just scooped into Benny’s thick arms like the most precious and loved creature alive. Only halfway because Dean takes easily four times longer to shower than Benny does, and the other half because the stud is always quick to clean their playroom, Dean enjoys the relaxing steam. Feeling decadent and pampered by the time Benny joins him, he gets right to lathering up and rising down his partner. Skincare and oral hygiene are a religious experience in this house, and they are devout. The newish part of their routine comes after Benny works a plug into Dean’s ass and attaches his sleep tail, a fuzzy black one that’s kinda short and feels like velour. Since Castiel gave Benny homework, this sexy beast has been wearing his own plug to bed, though he always takes care of it matter-of-factly.

Tonight though, he holds the slick plug out to Dean, “Baby, I’m sore. Would you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Dean will never say no to helping. But once he’s there, actually nudging the tip into Benny’s puffy, red rim, his breath catches. Biting his lip, he works the plug in, noticing every little movement and sound Benny makes. Once seated, he can’t help just staring at Benny’s spread cheeks, seeing that silicone flange is seriously doing things to Dean’s head and body. He whispers, “I really like this, Benny.”

There’s a deep sigh and an adorable grumbly sound as Benny turns around, those sweet eyes watching him, “C’mon, cher.” In bed and under covers, Benny tugs Dean to his side, fingers absentmindedly playing with Dean’s belly ring. “Talk to me, doll.”

Talking about things is hard and uncomfortable in general, but so much easier with Benny. Dean tries to sort out his thoughts, finally landing on just spitting them out, “Kinda wanna fuck you.”

Yeah, he expected the tiny gasp.

Pushing on, “You’re so gorgeous, babe, n’ you looked euphoric riding over me. It was so weird, all cards, but holy fuck I wanna see that again.”

Benny croons against his neck, “Felt damn good. Know what I loved?”

“Hmm?”

“I knew what you were thinkin’, could see it in your pretty eyes. Right when you got that urge, lookin’ like you were gonna rip outta the ropes, flip us over and split me open. Shocked the hell outta me in a really, really good way.”

“Dunno about all that,” Dean’s blushing for some freaking reason, but it’s not like… “Fuck, what is happening?”

“Darlin’, you know desires can come outta thin air, can’t reason them out.”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just unexpected.”

“Mmhmm, a lot of things tonight were.” Benny’s hand drifts lower, rubbing over the dermals and tracing Dean’s cock ring. It’s not actually sexual, just a tactile thing, they both crave touching one another like all the time. “About the rest, what’re you thinking?”

“Shit. That was almost too much.” Knowing Benny’s going to ask, Dean rushes on, “Didn’t cross the line, I would’ve given you a signal, I swear. Just almost. Being watched, putting on a show, that’s the Kiyaya special.”

“Mmm, my baby’s so fine.”

“Bet your ass. The whole him using your hands thing was hot, but a couple times I had to remind myself that it was still you .”

“I’m sorry, Dean. How bad?”

“No, not bad, just… different. I’m not used to anyone else touching. But I… uh…”

Warm lips on his head offer silent support.

“Part of me also kinda liked it. Felt super immersive, like I was behaving better than ever.”

“Oh, you were so perfect,” there goes Dean’s tail, “You earned your cum.”

Snorting a laugh, Dean buries his face in Benny’s huge chest, “The well is officially dry. Hey?”

“Hmm?”

“Why’d he let me cum?”

“Y’know, can’t say I expected that. Bastard keeps me dying more than not.”

“Aww, poor you! Try 16 days!”

“You sure learned to sit still after that, didn’t you?”

“I hate you,” Dean pouts, though he knows it was his own fault and he should quit complaining about something from five years ago.

“Never, babyboy. But with Cas, I really don’t know. I expected him to go all dragon and I’d be calling stop, but he was…”

“Gentle. Never saw that when you’re in a scene.”

Benny huffs, “Bet it was these pretty eyes, no one can resist wanting to make you happy, babe.”

“It’s a gift, what can I say. Love you, my Benamen.”

“To my soul.”

Chapter Text

Glancing at the clock yet again, Benny's silently urging time to speed up just a bit. The morning had flown by and was a helluva lot smoother than he had expected. Touching base with Cas, he had given the rundown on some shit that shouldn't have happened. The beast had thanked him for the details and said he'd call back. Not an hour later Benny got a return call, the Angel simply saying the matter had been addressed. Oh, Benny ain't asking.

Now, with Cas’ arrival imminent, Benny’s mind is definitely not on work. Rereading the same report for the third time and not retaining a damn thing, he gives up and steps out to clear his head. 

Vegas never sleeps, so even on a Monday afternoon the club is busy. With a habitual scan, he sees Troy on the main stage in his G.I. Joe getup, a couple of their newest dancers in cages around the room, the DJ at his post. But most of the crowd isn't watching any of those, they're watching… Dean.

The gorgeous man is gabbing it up with a bartender, long and lean as he perches at the bar. His partner’s wearing a skintight forest green romper, the shorts leave his tan and oiled thighs bare down to knee high stiletto boots. 

Benny strolls over, “Darlin', what're you doing here?”

“Charlie bailed on me. Hi,” Dean graces him with a sweet kiss.

“I'm not complaining, you're the very best company.”

“Hell yeah I am,” so cheeky. Dean nods towards one of the cages, “Lucas is getting better.”

Only soaring the dancer a quick glance, Benny has something much better to look at. Nodding thanks to the bartender, Benny sips his beer to cool the instant lust that always erupts the moment he sees Dean. “Mmhm. So that means you don't have plans for the night?”

Dean's got a pretty pout on those peach lips now, “Nope, the promise of deep dish pizza and a slumber party was cruelly yanked away.”

“Can't let that stand. C'mon, baby, let's grab a bite.”

“Nah, I'll find something later. Besides, this sexy stud has an appointment .”

Taking another nip from those perfectly painted lips, Benny hums, “Always got time for you.”

“Well, in that case, you–,” Dean pauses and his eyes grow wide, “Um, your visitor’s early.”

He sure is. Damn, that is one sexy beast. Castiel radiates power as he cuts a path right over, his all black suit sharp and his blue eyes glowing. 

“Benny, I'm gonna scoot.”

Suddenly nervous, Benny’s grasping Dean's hand with a whisper, “Please, babe, hold up just a second.” 

Dean reads him, always does, and this man is loyal beyond anything, “Yeah, gotchu.”

Squeezing his thanks, Benny takes a sip. Setting the bottle down just as the Angel reaches them, he holds that hand out, “Good to see you, Cas.”

“Thank you, Benny,” now those sapphires lock onto Dean, “Hello, Dean.”

“Hey.”

It's one thing to anticipate, another to experience. Sure, Benny's excited to finally get those hands on him like that , and Lord has he prepped for this. But it's a big step and… ah, Dean's rubbing his knuckles now, just that small brushing that is as soothing as a hug. Okay, Benny can do this. 

To Cas, “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“Alright. Darlin', you good?”

Dean scoffs, “Always,” turns on his high heel and swaggers away.

Mesmerized by those rolling hips, Benny finally turns back to Cas, only to find those intense eyes locked onto Dean's perfect form, too.

“Your partner is stunning.”

Pride swells in his chest and a smile rises along with it, “That he is. I'm a lucky sonuvabitch.” He leads back to his office, where he feels a semblance of calm and control. They talk shop, reviewing the report Benny just couldn't get through and nailing down a few necessities. It doesn't take long, this boss is as efficient as he is strict, just the kind of business partner Benny needs. As for the rest, well…

“I need a minute, gotta check on Dean.”

“Of course. You take wonderful care of him.”

“Oh, he's my everything.” Up and to the door now, he hears Cas following. But he hears another laugh and follows it to the dancers’ lounge. Pushing in, he finds Dean rifling through his wardrobe. “Don't even think about changing, I love that outfit.”

Dean blows him a kiss, then startles again, his eyes darting past and no doubt landing on Cas. His slender throat bobs for a second, “You like everything I wear.”

“That's the truth.”

“Mmhmm. I'll change back after, just for you.”

After…? Oh. Reaching for Dean's shoulders and turning them face-to-face, Benny grumbles, “You're not working tonight.”

“Wasn't gonna. Blame Charlie and her freaking fight with Dorothy.”

“And I will, but you're still not going out there.”

Dean pouts and looks ready to say something, but his eyes flash to Cas and back, just whispers, “I'm bored, Papa.”

“There's a lot more to do than work, baby, rest your feet.”

“They're not so bad today, promise.”

“Dean,” that would be Castiel, “are you not joining us?”

Emeralds bounce around, Dean silently asking Benny to take this one. He does, “This sweet thing is giving us some privacy tonight.”

The stud steps closer, “If that's truly your preference, of course. But I would very much like to share your, mmm, progress with this exquisite audience.”

Fuck, Benny wants that, too, to have Dean strung up, helpless but to watch as Cas breaks Benny. But it's Dean's call, “I'm okay with anything you want, cher .”

There's a flash of something strong brightening Dean's eyes, more than just interest. And whenever they're alone, Benny’s gonna find out exactly what Dean pictured right there.

“Um, yeah, that's… I can… watch for a bit”

“Thank you, baby,” Benny snags a kiss, feeling relief lighten the tightness in his gut. 

Oh, there's some awkwardness as Benny drives them all to the house, gripping the wheel tight ‘cause these in-between bits are laden with anticipation. Dean's knee is bouncing, always his telltale sign. The stud in the backseat is cool as a cucumber, unflappable as ever.

Once inside, Cas just pauses and scans the great room, “Benny, please bring me a drink.”

That was unexpected, but in fairness, Benny isn't really sure what to expect. But he knows what to do, “Yes, Daddy,” the words feeling just right as he crosses to the bar cart. 

The Angel moves to the sofa, setting his leather messenger bag down and flicking the buttons open on his blazer before sitting

“Dean.”

Dean shifts on his heels, “Yeah?”

“I understand the boundaries and promise not to touch you.” Cas accepts the glass Benny hands over, “Thank you, darling. Dean, will you behave?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wonderful. Undress and kneel,” the guy motions to one of Dean's cushions on the carpet, then looks back to Benny, “You, undress.”

Mumbling an acknowledgement, Benny gets right to it, already getting worked up. Maybe a bit distracted, too, never can resist watching Dean strip down. Every movement is a dance with that body, graceful and gorgeous. Cas is staring again, his face cold as a stone statue, but those eyes are heated. Yeah, this beast is interested.

Bare now, Benny forces his body to not tremble while those ocean eyes wash over him. He steps closer when Cas motions, then bites back a gasp as long, elegant fingers wrap around his cock. 

“This is lovely, Benny,” Cas traces the thick ring, “Your cock has healed nicely.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“Turn around… Show me.”

Cheeks on fire, Benny spreads his other cheeks, his eyes landing on his partner. Dean's wide-eyed, so pretty on his knees, that cock thickening up. Oh and it kicks just like Benny's does when the plug in his ass is nudged.

“Any soreness?”

“Just the good kind, Daddy.”

“Mmm, very good. I look forward to thoroughly destroying this sweet hole, but I like to start with something pristine and undamaged.”

Fucking hell, there's some wild mix of shame and excitement flooding Benny's bloodstream. 

Then the plug is tugged, wiggled, twirled in so many directions that Benny can’t follow. He just keeps his balance as he arches and presses his ass up higher, showing Daddy just how much he wants this. When it's popped out, yeah, Benny wants it back, or something even better. 

Now those long fingers circle his rim and that's just something. Cas hums, “Well done, my good boy, your hole is gaping for me.”

That praise has Benny’s eyes clenching as he shudders, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Hands and knees now, Daddy wants to feel more… Wet my fingers, baby.”

Twisting to suck and lathe the two fingers held up, Benny catches Dean's eyes. Aw, fuck, Dean's flushed and panting lightly, adding to the thrill as Cas slides those fingers into Benny’s ass.

“Mmm, very nice,” fuck they go deep, “You've taken quite well to your training, Benny.”

Mumbling a thanks, he's trying to keep breathing as those digits rub right across his sweet spot. they spread wide and have his breath catching again. 

There's a run across his ass while those fingers twist him into knots, “But not quite where I want you to be. Daddy can help, would you like that?”

Aw fuck, this guy’s going to have Benny in tears. Quickly, “Yes, please help me, Daddy?”

“Of course, darling.” 

There's a rustling sound, then a little squelch, Benny can only guess. But he definitely sees Dean's eyes widen and there's a near tremble, fuck!

“Daddy came prepared with some special tools just for this lovely hole.” Something thin and rubbery is slid inside him, it's softer than any toy he's used but heavy . Cas’ hand is on his cock now, wrapping something thick and heavy around him, oh that's snug! “There we go, turn around now.”

Benny shuffles around to kneel between Cas’ knees.

Big sapphires gleam at him, “This,” holding up a rubber ball attached to a long tube… that runs behind Benny, “is a balloon spreader. Don't let the name trick you, dear, it will not be comfortable. But once you're properly ready for me, you'll feel much better.”

How's a man supposed to sit still after that? Fuck, his cock twitched but the new leather strap around the base just pinches tight. Determined not to wince, “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You're welcome. Now, I want to hear how much you enjoyed riding my cock last night. Tell me.”

Biting back a moan, he licks his lips, “Best I've ever had in me…. Stuffed me full.” Benny gasps now, the rubber in his ass just thickened, puffed up. “Thought I was gonna split in half.”

“Keep going.”

Fucking hell. “Swear I could feel your big cock hit my teeth,” again the balloon inflates, though this size is definitely manageable. “I've been dyin’ waiting for your cock, Daddy… Every, fuck, everytime I moved, could feel you smashing against my sweet spot.”

Cas takes a long sip of his drink, just the most casual dragon, “Your beautiful pet held my cock just right for you.”

“Yeah, yes, Daddy, just right.”

“Hmm,” those deadly eyes move, gotta be watching Dean now. “Say thank you to your pet.”

Facing his partner, Dean's feeling sweaty already, “Thank you, ba-,” his breath hitching when the balloon expands, “babyboy.”

The way Dean looks back is some incredible blend of aroused, subdued and just hungry.

“Good boy,” and this beast pats his head, Benny leaning into the touch before catching himself. Feels fucking great to be pet by Cas. “Refill Daddy's drink.”

That he can do, no problem. Climbing to his feet, Benny turns and nearly staggers. Fuck! The balloon's catheter tube ends in a squeeze ball, sure. But what he didn't notice is the thick metal weights ringing the tube; sure does now!

“Don't you dare let that slip out,” there's Cas’ growl, “you won't like your punishment.” 

Flushed head to toe with shameful determination, he's clenching his ass to hold the balloon inside as he steps to the bar cart. It pulls against his rim, he can feel the weight wanting to drop right outta him.

Handing the glass back to Cas earns him a small smile, “Thank you, darling. Now politely ask Dean if you may borrow one of his soft cushions.”

“B– Dean, may I borrow a cushion?”

There's a twitch along Dean's jaw now, but he’s always quick, “Yeah, Benny.”

“Good,” but Cas raises a brow to Dean.

Oh. The sweet beauty crawls around the coffee table, grabs his thick purple cushion and crawls back, sliding it next to Benny.”

Adjusting the cushion and pointing for Benny to take his place, “Thank you, Dean.” 

That tone is deadly and not missed on Benny's partner. Nope, those golden cheeks are flushed as he gets back to his sweet kneeling. 

Cas holds his hand out.

What… ah. Benny grabs the pump ball, handing it over. And it's immediately pumped, so snug in there now. 

But what's wild is Cas’ hands moving to his own belt. Unbuckled and spread, pants unzipped and there it is – the third leg is real. Fuck. Pictures and videos were drool-worthy. Having a cloned copy of the beast something else. And seeing it for real? Benny’s ass clenches in anticopation and he yelps, eyes flying up to Cas.

“Mmm, needy, aren't you?” That smirk has Benny’s knees shaking even while kneeling. “Perhaps I forgot to mention, the balloon is covered in spikes. The larger it gets, the firmer they get.”

Benny needs to breathe.

“I do recommend concentrating on relaxing your hole.”

Well, this would be a full-body shudder, “Daddy, please?”

“Yes, Daddy can help you concentrate. Open your mouth, baby.”

Speeding his lips around this enormous cock, Benny doesn't have Dean's skill at slacking his jaw or the experience, but he's been practicing. Working the head in, he suckles until it's tapping his throat, but he's stopped by a heavy hand on his head.

“Stay… Focus on my cock, Benny… It's your task to keep me warm and wet… There you go,” and the balloon fills even more, “just my cock… Relax your hole, Daddy needs more room for his big cock… Breathe.”

That's all Benny can do, breathe and lay his head on Cas’ thick thigh. Oh the pressure and fullness in his ass keep going up, those gut-curling spines definitely showing up. A hand petting his hair helps distract him, and the fat, spicy cock stuffing his mouth. It's just what he needs, all of this. 

Benny’s eyes drift closed, happy just like this.

Chapter Text

Seeing Benny literally kneel for that wicked Dom is just… it's something. Yeah, Dean knows it's a struggle for his partner to give in, to let go and just behave – preaching to the choir here. But it's also kinda the best and with Benny all relaxed and calm, he's finding his own headspace.

On his knees for hours at a time? Easy as pie. Stay silent? Yawn. But without the straps and ropes, just anything to bind him in place, Dean has to rely on his own training and muscle control... It's freaking hard!  He's terrible at holding himself back, that's why Benny's firm hand is necessary.

Fuck, he can do this, he has to. Just like when they put on a show at the club or at the conventions, Dean has a never-ending need to make his partner proud. And he's not about to disappoint his Papa in front of, well, his Daddy. 

Okay, breathe… and out. With eyes on Benny, he concentrates on those movements; the rise and fall and stretch as his boyfriend calmly breathes. That helps, being in-sync, he drifts a bit. Then Benny squirms just a bit, but enough for Dean to have gotten a helluva spanking. But the MegaloDom just says something in a warning tone and Benny’s not budging. 

Which of course has Dean idly wondering just what that bizarre balloon feels like. Looked wicked, sounded like the sweetest torture, and those weights pulling down? Fuck. His eyes trace the tubing, imagining himself strung up, feet dangling and those metal balls dragging the spiky balloon right to his rim. His own ass is so well-trained, it would be damn hard to clench at all, the muscles in there are placid at best. Nope, it'd be all up to his rim, that one mighty ring to rule them all… 

And now he's thinking about Lord of the Rings. He and Charlie should've been firing up The Two Towers right about now. Dammit, this literally had been planned out weeks ago. But she and her girlfriend got into it yet again, and now Dean's stuck on his knees, unbound and with an empty ass – this plug is just the daily, nothing fun and totally doesn't count. Okay, watching Benny drop into submission is freaking awesome, his guy is so hot! It's just not the same when he's just sitting here without anything! Not to mention, this was supposed to be his cheat night. Pizza, as in actual double-sausage and peppers, stuffed crust pizza! His stomach growls in discontent and Dean sympathizes. Maybe he'll duck out when these guys move it to the playroom, he’ll treat himself to the buffet over at–.

“Dean.”

That burning rubber scent would be his rambling brain skidding to a halt. He sees Cas staring at him, which has happened often in the past hour, but now there's a frown. Dean clears his throat, “Yes, sir?”

“Are you hungry?”

Where the hell did that come from? Dean blinks. Oh, his stomach is doing it again, awesome. He glances at Benny, then back to Cas, unsure how honest he's supposed to be ‘cause this ain't his Dom. “A bit,” right down the middle.

“When is your dinner time?”

What, like he's a pet? Oh… dammit, bet this guy is strict as fuck with his live-ins or whatever. Dean nearly shrugs, “Now, was supposed to be out with a friend.” His stomach does it again, so he tacks on, “Might've skipped lunch.”

And that would be Benny’s grumble, the thick stud starting to sit up. But Cas keeps hold and pins him back down which is one of the hottest things Dean has ever seen. Holy crap, he wants to do that! Wait… which? Cas commands, “Stay, Benny, you have a task to focus on… Good boy. Dean, what would you like to eat?”

Flustered now, “I'm okay.”

Which gets him a wickedly sharp raised brow, Cas’ voice vibrating the house's foundation or Dean's bones, one or the other, possibly both. “You consented to stay and behave. While I control the base needs of those who kneel for me, I never deny hunger or thirst. Pick.”

“Pancakes. And bacon,” that would be his stomach choking in with a hell yeah.

Cas’ lips quirk just a bit and it's a kinda pretty almost-smile, “Very well.” He keeps his hand on Benny's head and just starts tapping on his phone. Without another iota of attention aimed at Dean, the sapphire eyed dragon swaps his phone for his drink, just sipping and squeezing that ball now and then.

Dean's itching to know something, to get some direction. Is he supposed to stay, should he get up and go? Fuck, should he safe word out and just… no, that's ridiculous. He can sit his ass still and just see what the Angel has up his sleeve. It's just weird, right?

Squeezing his thighs, he focuses on the pulses against his fingertips. He can usually calm down pretty quick like this, though it's a helluva lot easier when he's roped tight ‘cause that gets his limbs throbbing. Huh, thinking of throbbing, bet–.

Cas is standing up, tucking that insanely huge cock into his pants. He pets Benny, “One moment, baby, Daddy will be right back.

Sitting back on his heels, Benny looks drifty and drowsy, so freaking pretty. But Dean’s not in the zone and  keeps track of Cas, he’s at the front door, grabbing a bag from the doorstep. A bag that smells like food. 

“Up, darling,” Cas Waits for Benny to climb to his feet, smirking at the wobble as those weights swing. “Your pet needs to be fed. But Daddy will help, I need my good boy to stay relaxed. Dean, come.”

Following to the kitchen table, Dean can't keep his eyes off that tube swinging from Benny's ass. 

“Dean, do you take all your meals on your knees?”

“No, just– no, sir.”

“Hmm. Sit.” Using a shiny loafer, Cas drags the cushion from under the table, “Benny, kneel.” And his fine ass just takes over the kitchen; Cas washes his hands, hunts through cabinets, fills glasses of water and pops in straws. He sits in front of Benny, “Take my cock out… Open your mouth… Stay.”

Then the guy's buttering up fluffy pancakes and pouring syrup, stacking bacon on the plate. He slides the whole thing plus a fork, napkin and water to Dean.

Confused but super excited for all these carbs, Dean mumbles a thank you.

Cas just hums.

Okay, whatever, Dean’s not gonna focus ‘cause that’s not his jam. Not his Dom. Nope. His Dom is… fuck, on his knees as a cock warmer for the MegaloDom. Whatever, Dean’s going to eat and say sayonara, give his sexy stud some real privacy until he gets the call to come home and spread.

There’s a muffled groan, Benny’s sexy back just thrums as his muscles clench and coil. Fork at his lips, Dean freezes and just watches, as hungry to see how his partner responds as he is for this sugary madness. When Benny heaves and settles on his haunches again, Dean shivers and drops his fork, running one hand over his face, the other up his own chest.

“You like that.”

It’s not a question, just a damn certain remark that has Dean eyeing the ridiculously gorgeous Angel. Licking his lips once, just for the syrup, Dean nods, “Yeah.”

Cerulean spotlights stare at him, so bright and powerful Dean’s pretty sure his shadow’s gonna be etched on the wall behind him. That messy black hair just flops when the stud tilts his head, his insanely erotic voice tingling Dean’s toes, “This delicious pet shared that your… dynamics revolve around your submission.”

Maybe the sugar and pure freaking carbs loosened his tongue ‘cause Dean would never talk like this in a scene… but he only scenes with Benny, so what the fuck is happening? Whatever, Dean raises his chin and pulls his shoulders back, “It’s not about me. That, what you n’ my partner are doing, that’s for him n’ fuck if he’s not gonna get what he wants or needs.”

Fuck, Cas’ eyes narrow for a split second and it’s like coming face-to-face with an actual dragon. Then it’s gone, just the unreadable but lordly face, voice tight again, “I see.” And fuck it all, the guy bucks and Benny’s making some real wet sounds.

Glaring right back, Dean’s clenching fists, ready to… what? Jump the guy? Pound his gorgeous face, pummel him for giving Benny what he craves? Fuck! What the hell is happening? It’s too much and Dean ain’t tied up, he’s going to– a hand hovers an inch above his, then quickly pulls back.

“Please stay, Dean.”

Unsure why he’s so turbulent, Dean’s watching Benny’s thick body, looking for any sign of anything. Nope, the sexy guy is deep in his headspace. So Dean looks up, denying his body and mind’s trained reactions, staying straight up and challenging back, “Why the fuck would I?”

Yeah, the strict guy’s eyes narrow, oh well. Those really thick and– those lips move, “It’s your choice, Dean.” OMFG would he just stop saying Dean’s name? It sounds loaded coming from those… fuck it all, from those lips.

With nothing to go on, Dean resorts to base instinct here, “Yeah, it is.”

Cas squints and frowns and that should not be cute, not when the guy’s stuffing Dean’s partner’s throat. “I did not intend to upset you.”

“Too fucking late, isn’t it?” Dean’s livid for some reason, just aim him at something and let loose ‘cause he’s spiraling.

“Babyboy, c–.”

Dean rushes over and drops down, kissing his partner’s wet, puffy lips, “No, babe, stay. This is good for you, so freaking sexy. Just not for me, okay? I’m good, promise, gonna hang out with Lee and the guys for a bit. You just… fuck, Papa, call me later?”

Those sky blues stare at him for a long minute, clearly reading that Dean’s being honest. “A’ight. Gonna miss you, sweet thing.”

Snagging a kiss, Dean quips, “Show me later.” He stands and quickly redresses, ignoring the heat from what has to be Cas’ eyes. Yeah, Dean has been stripping since he was 17, he knows when someone’s looking, but… this one is 100x more intense and kinda like -50x sexual. What the hell? Whatever. Dean glances back at his partner, sees the relaxed muscles and pose, knows his man is okay. Yanking on the romper and boots, he can’t stay here. A stupid bodily directive has his eyes shifting up to meet Cas’ eyes.Those huge gems are on him, saying something Dean can’t translate. His breath hitches and that’s not okay, Dean plunders through as gracefully as four-inch stiletto boots allow, strutting himself to the front door. With a final glance behind, he resists shuddering at the seriously insanely sexy view of Benny melting. Ignoring the blaring inferno of a stud holding the reins over there, Dean dodges Castiel’s eyes and walks out the door.

Chapter Text

Benny’s torn and his heart just walked out the door, but he knows that Dean’s doing what he needs. Should Benny go after him or–.

“If you choose to end this scene, I understand.”

Dropping his head for a second, Benny muddles through what he can. No, he really doesn’t know exactly what set Dean off, none of this was unexpected except for… aw damn. “My fault twice over.”

“Tell me.”

Kneeling back and scrubbing at his face, Benny meets those eyes, “My boy didn’t wanna be here, only stayed this long ‘cause I asked. And… fuck, he doesn’t like being loose, needs the ropes or something.”

“Hmm, he’s tactile-oriented.”

“Yeah,” Benny gulps down a wad of guilt.

“Your partner is strong, Benny, I believe he did what he felt best.”

For some damn reason, that was a huge relief to hear. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Will he be safe?”

“Oh, he’s gonna be at the casino, everyone knows him there.”

“I cannot imagine Crowley’s crew would allow anything to happen.”

“Naw, he’s good.”

“The choice is yours. Continue or pause.”

Conflict swirls. Benny knows what he wants and what Dean gave his blessing on, but above and beyond any dynamics or scenes, that's his partner. “Pause. That boy’s my heart.”

“I understand,” and must because the unflappable Angel held out a hand to heft Benny up. “I'll order a ride so you can focus on finding him.”

“Nah, I'm staying here.” Benny stretches his cramped muscles, “He needs space right now.”

Cas hums as those huge eyes flick to the front door. Can't imagine what the guy's thinking, but Benny’s mind is a bit focused. But the beast points to the table.

Benny turns around and leans over it, taking slow and careful breaths while the balloon is deflated. Fuck, that thing was up there, his abs and ass are nearly trembling in relief. Another careful couple minutes and it's out.

There's a slight probing around his rim and dipping in, methodical, then, “No sign of tearing or unexpected inflammation. Would you like for me to clean you?”

“No, thanks, Daddy, I've got it.” Damn, Benny's cock kicked at that.

“Very well,” up the guy goes and right off to clean the toys.

Benny snags Dean's water glass and soothes his throat, unused to the faint soreness. It's not often he’s been used as a cock sleeve, but it's a damn good kind of ache. So’s the one mildly throbbing in his ass as he grabs a fresh drink for Cas. Setting the glass on the counter as the big guy’s scrubbing earns him a thanks that doesn't fail to have him flushing a bit.

When the car is just down the block, Cas collects his bag, “Please eat a full meal soon.”

“I promise.”

“I'll see you for our 11:00. If you or Dean need anything, please call me.”

“Appreciate that.”

“Good night, Benny,” the Angel gives a nod and strides out the door.

Back to the door, Benny sighs and looks around. This place is never the same without Dean's energy rippling off the walls. Even when the boy’s bound and gagged, he's got presence. Fuck if Benny can resist sending just one text.

Missing you, babyboy

The message is instantly read and here comes something.

D: I'm okay. Just gonna grab something to eat

B: Order double, I could eat 

D: Got you. Just give me a heads up when so it's not super cold 

B: It's just me

The eclipses do a dance, disappearing for a hot minute before Dean likes his last message. At least it's something.

For something to keep his anxious hands busy, Benny scraps Dean's leftovers for the neighbors dog and cleans all the dishes. Straightens the living room. Runs the vacuum. Hops in the shower for a scrub down. Teeth brushed and one foot out the bathroom and he knows Dean's home. Relief boosts his steps while dressing and trotting down the stairs. 

There's his man, Dean’s setting dishes onto the table and spins on his booted heel. Long arms grab hold of Benny, squeezing tight. The husky whisper in his ear is pure heaven, “Missed you, babe.”

“Same, cher. Ready to talk?”

“Almost,” Dean leans for for a quick kiss, “eat first.”

“You got it.” 

Dean taking his own seat and the choice of food tells clues of his mood. No cushion shows his role, and this is barbeque chicken and slaw, not comfort food, which shows he's not looking for coddling. This sweet boy’s face is as expressive as beautiful.

Sure enough, as soon as they start eating, Dean starts, “Ran into Marky.”

“Yeah? What's up with that crew?”

“They got an offer from Javi’s label…” and so on. It's easy and casual, Dean driving the flow. 

After the meal Dean heads up to shower, always conscious about his oiled legs staining the sofas or bedding. Entirely worth it, in Benny's opinion, he could live with highlighter, bronzer, glitter and body oils on every surface with Dean ‘cause that man makes everything brighter.

Smelling fresh and sweet, his lover nestled against Benny's chest while they watched a movie. Tapping pause, Dean draws a deep breath, “I'm jealous. Not just that, but it's definitely a huge part of it.”

No other hands touch Dean, but Benny's done a fair bit of training for other doms in their circles and for sessions at conventions. Never once has Dean had even a hint of a problem, usually was the one insisting with a laugh that Benny get out there and perform his duty. So he's gotta ask, “Just now, or when I led sessions, too?”

“What? No, those are totally different.”

“How's that? Baby, I'm not asking you to prove anything, I'm gonna do anything you feel is best. Just curious.”

Dean nods a bit, twisting to rub circles across Benny's abdomen. “Dynamics for sure. You're not there to be those peoples’ friend is something, and you're always in control. This with… him, it's different.”

“Mm, yeah. I wasn't aiming for a quick fix with Cas, that'd defeat the purpose.”

“I know n’ I swore I was okay with it. I am. Just… I was seeing green. Or red. Whatever, mix them together n’ that's what I was seeing.”

“That'd be blue.”

Dean sits forward with a curse, then a laugh while scrubbing his jaw, “Yeah, a whole lot of blue.”

“Well, let's get it back to the normal range, just me.*

“No, you’re not stopping, babe. I just can't be involved, not like tonight.”

Benny hesitates, a question burning on his tongue but not the right time to ask. Instead, “Can't kick you out for hours, Dean.”

“See, here's something I keep forgetting. We live in a city that's open 24/7. If I can't find something to do, then we've got bigger problems.”

Chuckling at his imp, Benny speaks from his heart, “I forget, too. Nothing’s the same as doing it with you.”

“Love you, Papa.*

“So much, darlin'. We should talk some more.”

“You're right, but not tonight.” Dean's mood shifts fluidly, now fully wrapping around Benny, “Only wanna think about you.”

“I'm the luckiest sonuvabitch,” Benny slides one hand up Dean's spine, the other down over a supple cheek, “got the sweetest boy.”

Rolling his hips and arching like the wolf he is, Dean nuzzles Benny’s lips, “Show me, Benny, be sweet with me.”

Now this mood isn't rare but definitely uncommon, a sacred worshipping of his incredible partner. Fingers and mouth get right to it, lathing across every inch of warm gold, heart throbbing as Dean melts like butter. This bit isn't about give and take, it's about sharing, moving together to share that bliss. And they do, stroking Dean to that heady finish while filling him with every drop of love. 

Morning came fast, with Benny all too soon kissing his slumbering partner goodbye and heading to the club. With brunch still swinging, he devours a plate at his desk while getting his mind into work mode. Which has him chewing a couple Tums along the way. 

When Cas arrives right on time, his big eyes miss nothing. Glancing at the antacids, that grumble borders on worry, “Is Dean alright?”

Oh, huh, “He's good, getting his beauty rest,” touched by the concern.

“But he did return home?”

Now Benny's curious, “Yeah, of course.”

On an average person, that eye twitch would be nothing, but coming from the stone-faced Angel, it shouts of relief. Even so, the big guy flicks the suit jacket buttons and takes a seat, “I'm glad to hear that, I was… What is causing this?”

Benny leans back for a stretch, “I swear these lechers are parts of a hydra. Cut one off, herecomes another.*

Hours pass with decent albeit extensive progress. Novak is assigning one of his loyalists to overhaul the entire security operations at each location. Sure, Benny's heard of the Demoness, so he's confident that Dean and their employees and patrons will be safe in these walls. As for zoning issues, Cas suggested holding off on addressing those until he has more information on an outstanding project’s prognosis, should the asshats respond to a phone call, the guy’s actual words. The latest batch of subpoenas are forwarded to Cas’ legal team, headed by a crack team of frustratingly annoying yet knowledgeable experts. Man, this guy…

“What is it?”

Benny looks up from his screen to find Cas quilting at him, “What's that, chief?”

“You looked amused.”

“Oh,” giving a sheepish smile, “youve got some sass in there.”

Up goes that regal chin, “If you call me Sasstiel, I'll beat your ass and not in the fun way.”

Here comes a full chuckle, “Who gave you that one?”

“My brother, incessantly, despite losing a tooth.”

“Can't believe he has any.”

“Well, in fairness, he did lighten to referring to me as Sassy, and now merely the horrific Cassie.”

“Ha! Well, it's the ones that we love that can hurt is the most.”

Must've struck a nerve because that man turns into a statue again, not a hair on his fone head moving as those big eyes burn. But he gives a deep hum and taps the stack of papers, “Was there an incident with Dean?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Benny, all six of these mandates are for Dean's testimony.”

“Sure. We get the standard personal injury and credit card fraud ones, same as any business. But most of it’s something to do with my boy.” And wearing the question clearly burning on Cas’ pretty face, “Folks crossing the line n’ breaking the golden rule, don’t touch that gold. Or fights breaking out when vying for his attention on stage. You get the picture.”

“Your partner is utterly magnificent, exquisite even amongst the dens of beauty,” Cas is intense. “But to influence the behavior of so many customers.”

Benny scoffs, “Influence alright, he's got it in spades even with a clay face mask and eye pads on and a whitening lamp in his mouth.” Warmed when Cas’ lips twitch, he keeps going, “I worship that man every moment, he's my everything and gives me life. When Kiyaya comes out, it's like every cock around tries to grow a knot, the pull is damn strong.”

“Hmm, that correlates with the trends in head count and sales. The gap between his and,” Cas scrolls somewhere on his tablet, “Max’s numbers is noticeable. I rarely see such a margin between top performers.”

“Max is good, he's got a following as the Feline Familiar. But no one outshines Kiyaya.”

“I had not personally delved into the details prior, that's something I generally leave to my employees. What is Dean's following, just how marketable are his shows?”

“Cas, are you tellin’ me you haven't seen him dance?”

Mask in place, Cas doesn't look down his nose but it's close, “My involvement in business is strictly that. I'm not looking for entertainment.”

“You’re invested in restaurants, too, right?”

“Yes, though mainly under my brother Gabriel’s wings.”

“That means you haven't tried the best dish at any of them?”

Silence.

“You do have a point, Benny. However, I don't find stripping arousing unless at my command.”

“Sure. Bet that's what most of our clientele is imagining when babyboy gets to there. He does a lot more than strip, he dances his sweet heart out.”

Cas stares again, then breaks away, “It shows on paper. This also explains why your security concerns are so imbalanced.”

Benny shrugs, “My focus is him. He only goes on stage if me or our prime bouncers are here.”

“How often do these incidents occur?”

“Breaking up fights nearly every day, breaking the golden rule less often with a couple bruisers called outside Kiyaya’s Den. And the ones like yesterday, well, we don't get subpoenas ‘cause they ain't suing.”

“I fully support your strict policy, Benny, such disrespect and threatening behavior should not be tolerated.”

Of that Benny's damn sure. As the clocks roll into the evening, they finish up today's strategic initiatives and get to the whole other side of their interactions.

He starts, “Last night didn't go as any of us planned, that's on me. My partner and I talked, and I still want the same thing, Cas.”

“I take that to imply Dean is amenable?”

“He is, just doesn't want to be there.”

Cas nods tightly, “We could change venue. My house here is under renovation, but I do maintain a condo exclusively for training and discipline.”

Well, there goes Benny's cock waking from its long nap. “Sounds good to me.”

“Wonderful.” Cas glances at his watch, “There are several matters I must address before our time tonight. Eat soon and hydrate, you'll need the strength. A car will pick you up at 10:00. Here or your home?”

Shivering just below his skin, Benny’s mouth is dry with anticipation. Takes a second to respond, “Dean goes on at eight, so I'll be here.”

“Alright.” The man is out the door with such presence, like he soared out with actual wings. Wild.

As he's chewing through a Philly, in struts his dream come true. Wrapped in a purple silky blouse left open to his bejeweled bacel, white hot pants and square-toed mod squad ankle boots, Dean is a vision.

“Swear you stop my heart, darlin'.”

“Well, it's mine,” Dean slides across his lap for a quick snuggle. “How’s things?”

“Better now.”

“That's my Benamen.”

“That I am. Hendricksen dropped by, mentioned he's got a lead on the storage breakin.”

“It's about time! I'm telling you, Papa, we should hole up on the roof–.”

“And I'm gonna say it again, that's for me to worry about. My job, baby.”

Dean's eyes narrow like he's about to dig his high heels in, but he just huffs a breath, “Yeah. I just get worked up when someone messes with your stuff.”

“Our stuff.”

“Y'know what I mean. Makes me want to do more.”

Huh, alright. “Talk to me, cher. I'll never shoot down somethin’ unless it's putting you at risk.”

“I know,” those strong fingers scratch into Benny's beard. But he shrugs fine shoulders, “I dunno. Not the minutiae you handle ‘cause my brain would probably cry. Just something more for you.”

Letting his heartfelt sigh out, Benny kisses Dean's fingers, “Sounds good. When you know what you want, let's do it.” Oh yeah, this tight hug is everything.

Minutes later Dean's getting to his feet, “Gotta get to wardrobe. How long is my sexy stud gonna watch me?”

“Mmm, for the rest of this life and the next,” can't help it. “Heading out at 10.”

“Ooh, that gives me two hours to drive you wild.”

“That's my boy.”

With a wink and blown kiss, Dean swaggers out and the air cools a solid dozen degrees without him.

But that bright light flares again when Kiyaya comes on stage. A sided g-string fits around his plug and over his cock. His harness and triple garter are of the same chestnut leather as his collar, the gold buckles catching every flashing spot and strobe light. No fishnets or socks, these clubs are strapped to thigh high boots with the same Rick pelt as his tail, a plume with every shade of brown and gold leading a white tip. Every morsel of heavenly skin gleams with the shimmery oil that tastes like coconut, his lips pinkened and slick, eyes smoky and dramatic, with red press on nails looking more like claws. Just fucking perfect. 

As much as Benny watches his soulmate dance to his own incredible internal muse, the rest of Benny's attention is on every person in here. Only when the up n’ coming MMA fighter and part-time bouncer takes post does Benny head to his space to prep. Just minutes to 10 and he's ready, frowning as he enters the main lounge, not seeing his man on stage. Oh, but the whistles and rolling crowd show him just where the beauty is. Hips rolling and tail swinging with well practiced yet innate grace, Dean's aimed right for him. Welcoming the strong arms looping around his neck, Benny hums in happiness as his man curls around. Lips course his, playful but something more. When Dean rubs the full length of arms again, the slide leaves his oil on Benny's neck, something Dean doesn't do often. Oh.

“Babyboy, you marking your territory?”

“Maybe,” Dean blushes for a second, but pulls on Kiyaya and lifts his gorgeous chin, “just giving you a parting gift.”

“One I'll hold dear,” and sees a bouncer in his peripheral. “You're gonna drive them wild tonight.”

“They just like my milkshake.”

“Nasty boy. Behave tonight n’ I'll see you soon.”

“Just for you. Love you,” Dean licks in a long, wet kiss.

Blood humming, Benny could take Dean right here n’ now, the need rises so quick. “Mon couer.” And his lips are sticky. Catching Dean's tiny smirk, he resists giving that cheeky ass a swat, can't risk any bastards around them thinking they can do the same.

“Better not wipe it off, stud,” Dean swirls away with lips now free of all lipgloss.

Well, that's a first. And damn it feels good… this was as blatant as the bands tattooed on their fingers, as much a sign that Benny is Dean’s with his scent and marks. Wild. His mind stays on the new behavior for the whole drive, only coming back as they pull into a parking garage. He's escorted to a floor that's damn high and only has two doors. The one to the left is opened and closed behind him.

Now Benny and Dean do just fine, making themselves more than comfortable with their incomes and the businesses. All the best things about Vegas draw big money. This is one expensive pad and Benny just knows it's gonna be filthy by morning. Mmm. 

Low lamps and subdued recessed lighting highlight one thing: Cas seated on his throne. Still in his suit sans jacket, his thighs are spread, bronze fingers tapping on one arm of the huge leather chair, a glossy show on either side of a thick black cushion.

“Hello, Benny.”

“Hey, Daddy.”

“How was your evening?”

“Smooth as sin.”

“How apt. Undress, darling.” He feels those eyes sliding over every inch as it's exposed, finally lingering on his cock. “Lovely. On your knees.”

Right down and swallowing around that inhuman cock, Benny’s nestled on Cas’ thigh for a long, unmeasurable time. It's nice like this, held here, just waiting for Daddy to tell him what to do. Mostly, ‘cause a thread of worry licks in every time he gets truly relaxed. The urge to grab his phone for a quick text rises again and again.

“Your mouth is just right for my cock, boy. But you're distracted.”

Cheeks flushing, he mumbles around the huge cock, “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Up. I would like a Vieux carre.”

Of course he wants something tricky while Benny's brain is trying to just turn off. It takes some careful attention to get it just right but he manages. Handing over the napkin wrapped glass, Benny drops to the cushion and waits. 

“Mmm, well done,” a hand pats his head.

Fuck, that felt good.

But the Angel pauses while drinking, his eyebrows furrow. The petting hand lowers to Benny's neck, rubbing for a second before tracing his lips. It's not a command to suck those fingers, so what is it?

“Is that,” a finger disappears between those thick lips, “coconut. Hmm.”

Wasn't really a question, so Benny waits.

“I've changed my mind,” the drink is tossed back and Cas stands, his crotch right at Benny's face. Narrowed sapphires peer down, “Up, my good boy.”

Benny follows Cas across the huge room and through a thick door. Oh yeah, this is the epitome of all playrooms. 

“On the bench, baby.” 

Now strapped bent over the damn decent support, his arms are stretched taut via manacles bolted to the wall. Thighs and ankles are latched to built-in spreader bars, while his cock hangs heavy and free. 

A hand rubs around his flank, down to his ass, “Marvelous, Benny, posed just right for Daddy.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“This little hole,” circling Benny's rim now, “is much too tense. Daddy can help.”

A couple wet fingers slip right in, not painful, just abrupt and Benny nearly jerks. Deep breath and out, he focuses on those curling miracle workers. When they pull, twist and then brush right against his sweet spot, his whole body hums.

“Hmm, this is when I especially enjoy cock cages. I'd love to see your fat cock folded away in a gatling.” Fuck! “But that's on the no list. Instead, Daddy's going to milk you until you forget about this,” giving a hard press right there, “and only think about what?”

It's a moan, “Daddy!”

“Yes. Don't hold back, sweetheart, you're going to cum until these,” his balls are tugged and squeezed, “are completely empty.”

That should sound like a reward but Benny knows better, having done the same to his own partner. This wicked Angel’s gonna bring tears. Oh, and some. Benny's coated in sweat and shaking with oversensitivity long before Cas works his forearm into Benny's wrecked hole. When the Angel releases the bindings, without such a strong dom there to catch him Benny would've slid to the floor. He sure as fuck needs the new straps to hold him on the cross. But he's held in place and fully exposed as his Daddy takes and uses what he wants. Cum drips from Benny's puffy lips, across his chest and spent cock, and a whole lot was sprayed across his ass to slick the way for Cas’ fist. Yeah, Benny’s brains have thoroughly been fucked out.

Chapter Text

Fuck his body is sore. Dean overdid it, yeah, go figure. But physically exerting himself is the second best way to work through anxiety and a whirling mind. The meat sacks holding the Benjamins sure didn't mind his exuberance tonight, and those extra bills are great for tipping the hard working security dudes. A steam shower helps him unwind physically, the routine even calms a couple of the sharpest worrisome thoughts. 

Thank fuck for blackout curtains, a necessity in the desert, blocking the vicious early morning sun. Blending melatonin into his smoothie, Dean sprawls on a sofa watching ESPN and not glancing at his phone every 11 seconds. More like every nine. Even so, he's slow to respond to friends' messages and mentions, only wanting to see something from some one. It doesn't come, but something else does.

An unknown number is calling.

Yeah, no one in this day and age answers those. Dean taps screen call and cheers as Greenberg gets riled up. Shit, he hasn't been to a good game in too long. It'd be awesome to get the guys together n’ get rowdy, drink crap beer as they cheer on their favorite teams. But fuck all of he's inviting Chase, that asshole has the worst–.

His phone buzzed again. 

Tapping the transcript, his finger hovers in surprise.

Hello, Dean. This is Castiel. Benny shared your number to notify you of his status–

Heart in his throat, Dean dials back. The call is answered on the second ring with an unmistakably graveled voice. Dean has no patience for niceties, all-but bellowing, “What's wrong with Benny?”

“He's fine, I give my word.”

Sagging against the cushions, Dean pinches his bridge, “Then why the hell are you scaring the crap outta me?”

Silence for a moment, “As stated in the message, your partner is quite exhausted and I'm escorting him home.”

Rolling his eyes, it's a struggle to just childishly mimic the uptight MegaloDom. “Look, I'm just worried okay?”

“That's understandable. We should arrive in four minutes.”

“Got it,” and he ends the call. That felt good, getting the last word in. Muting the TV and stalking to the front door, he's watching the too-bright street like a hopeful puppy waiting for… we'll, yeah. Anyway. 

An SUV parks and there's the guy already circling the truck. He braces Benny’s arm and leads him up the short path. Okay, Benny’s not limping, his shuffling is more brain fog and lax muscle than painstaken. Dean has often ambulated the same way, ahem. That sexy face is calm and smooth, eyes heavy. Yean, Dean knows he's okay before they reach the open door. But he makes damn sure to take Benny's elbow and guide him in. Not wrestling his partner away from Cas' or anything, just… mildly tugging harder.

“Hey, babe,” he pecks those sweet lips, thumb rubbing his beard until Benny's eyes focus. “Wanna cuddle on the couch or snuggle in bed.”

Benny sighs low and soft, “Bed.”

“You got it.”  Another peck and he eyes the other guy, “Thanks for the dropoff service. I've got ‘im from here.”

“I don't doubt your abilities, Dean,” would be just stop saying Dean's name? WTF. “My responsibility to Benny includes ensuring–.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Up the stairs, double doors.” Nope, Dean's not sweating ‘cause of the insane audacity he's feeling, or from what he knows are ocean eyes pouring over him. None of that, he's just tired himself and not struggling to aim his big stud up the stairs.

Cas doesn't say a word to him, just grumbles praise for every step Benny takes. They get him down the hallway and into their bedroom. Tugging the covers back just the way Benny likes and giving the pillows a couple fluffs, he pats the bed. In a minute Benny’s stripped to his boxers and laid back, getting a royal tuck-in ‘cause Dean's fretting. 

Patting Benny’s hair kinda gently, Cas is murmuring something. He glances at Dean with a look that Dean's not even gonna attempt to decipher, gives that all-business nod and heads out the door. Fuck it all, Dean really should show the guy out. Kissing Benny's temple and promising to be right back, he hot foots it down the stairs. 

Cas isn't at the door, he's in the freaking kitchen, microwaving a mug of water. He stares right through Dean's skull while holding up little sachets, “Lemon balm and passionflower, both are gentle on the stomach and aid in muscle recovery.”

“Uh huh.”

And that's the extent of their conversation for the entire 38 minutes as the microwave works. Or two minutes, whatever, felt long as fuck while avoiding any direct eye contact. Just two dudes in the kitchen at 7AM, one in pajamas, the other in a freaking suit, waiting for tea. If Dean wasn't bubbling with something, he'd probably find it funny how domestic it would look out of context. Ha, if folks only knew. 

Bags dunked to steep, another glass filled with water, a baggie of presorted vitamins and minerals grabbed–.

“Dean, what are those?”

Okay, audacious much? But Benny can appreciate care for his man, so here goes, “Morning after party mix, a personal blend,” and rattles off the list.

“Hmm, that’s impressive, though the name is rather on the nose.”

Dean shrugs with a smirk, “I think it's perfect.”

Those eyes are just too much, “Benny takes wonderful care of you.” The voice was no less impactful.

“It's a two-way street, a partnership,” why is Dean feeling so defensive?

Final-fucking-ly the tea is ready and everything's on a tray… where the fuck has that thing been? Dean's like 96% sure the last time he saw the wood-burned tray was at their house warming years ago. Who even gifted that? 

“There is a standing meeting scheduled from 11AM. If Benny needs additional rest, I would prefer he prioritize that above business needs.”

“Believe me, I'm gonna make sure he does.” Ease you, Winchester. “Yeah, let's push that out now, I'm not letting him up before he's good and ready.”

“Understood. Good night, Dean.”

“Night.”

Finally the door’s locked and Dean's racing up the stairs. His big stud is mellow and mild, not balling as Dean nudges more fluids past his lips. Taking his own chug of water and flipping the lights off, Dean climbs into bed and sighs happily when Benny rolls closer. One hand cradling Benny's back, the other scratching his beard just right, he just holds his man until sleep takes them both. 

A gasp flies past his lips before his eyes even open, a moan hot on its heels. Grabbing at Benny's hair as his hips buck, “Your mouth, fuck!”

There's a chuckle that vibrates right up Dean's cock and rattles his foggy brain. Then that award-winning mouth gets right back to earning another gold plaque by giving a good nip. Seeing Benny curled over him, those thick shoulders flexing with each motion, it's incredible. Fuck, this is the opposite of their usual morning, the mirror image. Dean always goes to town for his first breakfast, isn't usually the breakfast. But… fuck he needs this. 

Digging his heels into the mattress and scooting back against the headboard, he keeps one hand on Benny's hair and drags him along. Sure, there's a tone of surprise but an even louder one of a pleased Benny. Hell yeah.

“So good, Papa, swallowing my cock,” he moans as the tug to his balls twists just right, fingers flicking at his percings. “Go on, keep sucking me.” Each drag of beard across his tender inner thighs is almost too much, but Dean fucking needs this. Slowing his own bucking and reaching for Benny's neck, he pulls slow and steady while his cock disappears deeper inside that warm, wet mouth. The closer Benny’s nose gets to Dean's trembling groin, the higher the intensity in this freaking room gets. Pulse pounding from head to toe, he nearly falls apart when Benny hums and gulps, the swirling sensations mind-blowing. But he needs more, needs… with a final pull, he's fully buried in Benny's plant throat. Benny swallows and stays still, just like that, filled by Dean, for Dean, kneeling for Dean and oh fuck he's cumming! Giving a single thrash ‘cause it feels so fucking good just being in here, his eyes roll back and his mind turns over. 

Head swimming with bliss and a huge surge of sheer power, Dean pats Benny and must be saying something but his own ears haven't stopped ringing. Giving the foggy thing a shake, he watches his man again. 

Eyes dark and narrow, chest heaving as he kneels back with wet lips, Benny’s voice is raw, “Tell me I can, please.”

“Show me that fat cock, Benny.”

The bear groans and shoves his boxers down, baring – ha – that beast, huge hand wrapping around and… just holding. Waiting.

Fuck.

“Go on, show me.”

Holy shit those sounds are gonna live in Dean's dreams! Benny’s stroking himself, head tilted back while pumping into his fist, eyes on Dean without blinking. 

“Just like that, big boy, fuck, you look so good,” Dean's own cock gives a helluva attempt, twitching as the words spring right out. “Gonna cum for me? Show me how much you like sucking my cock, keeping me warm–.”

With a deep and long and insanely hot groan, Bennys cumming across Dean's cock and stomach. Every spurt feels hot as candle wax, some caught and rubbed back on by Benny's huge hand, the squelch obscene and perfect.

But there's one last thing and Dean's incapable of holding back, “Better clean that up.”

Fuck if Benny doesn't drop right down to slurp up every last smear of cum. It's too much, though, Dean needs something, too. Grabbing Benny’s hand, he sucks along each finger and nearly whimpers when the flavor hits his senses. Yeah, can't go too long without a hit, Benny’s got the good good.

They're both on their sides now, facing each other. Benny traces Dean's jaw, “You okay, cher ?”

“Yeah.” Here's a healthy dose of honesty, “Can't believe that happened.”

“It's a good kind of disbelief.”

“Fuck. Yeah. So, I don't… no, I totally know where that came from, but it's weird, right?”

“Not weird at all. Just new for us n’ we like new.”

Stealing a kiss ‘cause they're three inches apart and it's his right, Dean needs to focus, sliding his foot between Benny's legs. “I’m just gonna say it, this… newness, some of it makes me freak out a bit. And other parts, babe, I really like n’ I'm wanting things I was meh about.”

“We're gonna talk about the freak out feeling. But I'm loving what you're raising.”

Settled and soothed, Dean nuzzles in again. “So, how was your night?”

“Aw, baby,” their foreheads bump as the stud chuckles, “I'm thinking I left my body a time or two.”

“Drama king.”

Through their shower and breakfast, they share their nights. It's something they do, always have, there's just one thing different. What is it? Oh, right, the involvement of one Castiel Novak. Other than that, it seems Benny got a dose of what he needed, minus actually getting that unbelievable cock in his eager ass. 

Dressed and looking fine as fuck, his bear drops a good 30 or so kisses before heading to the office. Which means Dean's got time to kill. A text to his nail artist and he's squeezed in for a mani-pedi. His hair stylist is always around, Dean's not one to miss an opportunity to maintain superb grooming. Then home just in time for groceries to be delivered, finishing off with a four song rotation on the tanning bed. Even in Vegas there are only so many places to keep his natural tan popping without any lines. All in, it's a damn good way to start the night.

He's feeling centered and confident striding through the employees entrance, calling out hi’s and sup’s. Benny's office door is cracked, two low voices drifting out and Dean just moves on to his dressing room, not ready to face that. Huh, maybe he can just speak with his hips. Yeah, Dean knows just what to wear when it's showtime. And for now… 

The bodysuit is black and pretty much painted on. Sleeves end in fingerless black gloves, leaving his glossy gold nails clawed out. His boots aren't killer high just yet, not ready to strain his arches, but these are black and just dripping with gold chains and charms. A gold belly chain is asymmetrical over his hips, just a tease for later. Going bare minimum on cosmetics with just lip gloss, a quick shake in front of the mirror has the chains chiming. Perfect. 

Here we go. Just a few strides and he's at Benny's door, rapping a staccato.

“There’s my boy.”

Dean's grinning as he pushes in, “Hey, babe.”

Benny tilts for a kiss, then whistles, “I'm liking this.”

“I'm going for a whole thing,” though he offers both guys a cheeky grin, which should suffice as a greeting to the strict Angel.

“Always are,” Benny runs fingers through the belly chain charms. “Pure temptation all wrapped up, mmm.”

“Mr. Lafitte, this is a professional work–,” Dean doesn't finish ‘cause Benny had swatted his ass. 

“Feisty,” Benny gives him that deadly smirk. He rolls his pretty eyes to Cas, “A well-rested Dean is a blessing and curse.”

Cas just nods.

“Self-care goes a long way. Speaking of, Papa, what'd you have for dinner?”

“What I'm about to have is today's special,” and his big stud gets to his feet. “This will be Cas’ first time trying out our cuisine.”

Taking the liberty of smoothing out the wrinkles in Benny's shirt, this is a subject Dean can always chime in on. Talking towards but without looking at Cas, “You're in for a treat. Cesar and Jesse have magic spoons.”

Benny tucks an arm bagind Dean, fingers curling his hip, “Not an exaggeration. C'mon now.”

The last few steps before entering gen pop is Dean's takeoff and he is primed and ready. Chin up with a flirty smile, shoulders back, hips rolling while leaning into Benny's hold, just right. They wave and catch shouts, the usual first appearance of the night repertoire. At the permanently reserved booth, Dean snags a quick kiss before Benny slides into the seat.

But Cas remains standing, his face impassive, “Are you dining with us?*

“Ah, no, I'm… working,” Dean tossed a thumb over his shoulder, like…?

“Of course. But you have eaten, correct?”

He blinks in response to what he can only assume is a more disastrous attempt at an ice breaker than that show. Whole thing was a dumpster fire in an apocalypse AKA blah and unnecessary. Really should crash at Charlie’s soon, they haven't finished the last season. Catching himself spiralling, Dean reined it in ‘cause there are two places he fucking owns : Benny’s heart and this club. “I'm an adult, Mr. Novak, and can feed myself. Can even read, write, talk, all the skills.”

Cas squeezes his eyes closed, bet he's counting to 10 or something, then, “Yes, but can you walk?”

This cheeky fucker… With a swing, Dean's walking away, swaggering across the main floor, warming up the patrons. Dropping a wink here, trailing fingers over a shoulder there, popping a hip while flirting his fine ass off, Dean’s in the zone. Declining all offers for drinks with a coy can't, it'll go straight to my head, or sweet, but my tongue’s already wet, this is his game.

Leaving the simmering devotees behind a few minutes earlier than usual, Dean's giving himself a buffer ‘cause this new ensemble is brand new. Unzipping the garment bag, he is 10^40 sure that Benny's gonna grow fangs when he sees all this finery. His eyes are gonna narrow, that devastating smirk spreading as he leans back and seems to be calm as he sips a beer. But Dean knows the ravenous grizzly under there and freaking loves him. Though maybe it's not a great idea to rile him up too much, not when the stud is sitting across from another Apex predator. Ha, a Bear and a Shark walked into a strip club… and something something something the Wolf won. Jeez. Calm the fuck down.

With a helpful hand from the ever-present and kinda nutty Becky, it's all on. Barefoot with gold toenails below harem pants, the gauzy mesh is hunter green tapered by gold manacles and a super low bejeweled waistband. Thin chains disappear under his skimpy green choli top. The facial veil takes a minute to get used to, but the motion of the charms is simple enough to compensate for. Sure makes his heavily shadowed eyes pop while leaving his lips hidden for later. Thick gold bracelets are gonna be fun, looking damn good as he fluffs his favorite tail before securing it to his plug. Oh Dean loves his tails, it's more than just his work persona, but holy fuck it's expensive altering so many costumes to fit this baby. Worth it, business expense. 

Kiyaya is ready.

Stage lights catch every charm and chain swinging with each strut times to Circus – freaking love Britney. A riotous chorus of whistles and shouts is pure fuel, worship does wild things to a man. Finding Benny likes their eyes have magnets for one another, he winks and shivers at that blown kiss. That energy is funneled right into his muscles, body doing just what it was trained to, whipping around the stage. The winds push the audience into a foaming cash-spending mass. Moving seamlessly into song two, I'm a Slave For You is thrumming in his blood while unknotting his top, flinging it towards the curtain and arching back to highlight the fine chains threaded between his nipples and navel rings, dipping below his pants with a single chain that no doubt has half the crowd imagining just what it's attached to. Another couple beats and the pants are gone, leaving the coin-laden mini loincloth jingling. Undulating perfectly, his body withers under his own hands as Kiyaya lifts his veil, reveling in the continued adoration from the faceless mass. Painted with thick gold, he knows the sheen is going to shine as he expertly parts ships lips, keeping the tease blatant as always. Curling up and around a pole, the rest of the song is Kiyaya performing his heart and ego out.

High on the devotion, Dean soars backstage and right into Benny's waiting arms. The rest of the world disappears as those lips devour him, just stealing his breath.

Gasping now, Dean teases, “5-star?”

“Boy, every fucking star,” that's a growl of love and lust right there, mmm.

Maybe Dean wagged his tail a bit, blame a man, “Maybe you wanna come n’ show me.”

“Not enough time,” Benny nips his lips, “but when there is, I'm thinking this wicked wolf is gonna dance for Papa.”

“Always for you,” it's a groan ‘cause there's Dean's cock getting ideas. 

“Sweet Dean, mmm. Go put your feet up.”

Wiggling his bare toes, Dean nods, “It's weird not wearing heels but holy crap they don't even tingle!”

“Soon as they do, there's a foot massage waiting for you, just give me the look.”

“Fucking awesome, stud,” Dean steals a final kiss and heads to his dressing room. 

Rehydrated, fresh lip paint and setting spray, shit talked with coworkers and Dean's out for another set. No exaggeration, this costume is a hit, just knew the investment would be worth it. While slowly spinning upside down on the pole in a dramatized backbend, he looks for Benny. But he get caught on eyes that cannot possibly be that bright this far away, like they’re glowing. And they're on him, not on Dean's body, but on his eyes and that's not how shit works at strip clubs. Thank fuck for momentum keeping him rotating away ‘cause he couldn't look away on his own. Next loop and there's a scuffle in the lounge, something for him to look at lest his eyes go somewhere else. Fuck.

Another rest period and he's lacing up modified aerial boots – same gaiter look but with soles and a stiletto – because there's no way in hell he's going barefoot out there. Blech. Another set of rounds through the audience in a pattern only he knows – okay, he makes it up every time, gotta keep them on their toes – lands him with a thousand compliments and promises. Yeah, Dean's preening as his tail swishes around his calf. Mental metronome counting down as he gives a salacious wink to the table full of frat boys on the upper tier, these heels strut him to the central booth.

Placing both palms on the table, arching his back just right, Dean coos, “Howdy, stud.”

“Could a sworn you were a mirage,” Benny leans forward to ghost their lips, “the very best dream.”

“You dreaming about me, Papa.”

“A divine vision.”

That wasn't Benny. 

Dean glances to the side and dammit, the guy must be using fly tape or something ‘cause Dean can't even blink. Wait, that would make Dean the fly… shaddup. Whatever it is, Cas is staring with an unreadable face. Determined to save the awkwardness and hostility for not here, Dean leans on his nurtured persona and gives a shimmy that jangles everything, “That’s me, like an artifact in a museum. Look but don't touch,” and that was a lot more defensive that he meant it. Fuck.

“Cher.”

Dean owns it, though he keeps his voice low, “Sorry. Ah, sorry, Cas, not trying to be a dick.”

“It's forgotten,” though from how tense that jaw is, bet it's memorized.

Now is when Dean usually loses himself on the bench seat, legs crossed or spread just right to keep the patrons ogling. He would ostensibly relax with his stud or a friend dropping by, a great way to keep up the excitement and line of sight while getting himself a drink and downtime. But there's chowder thick tension now.

“Pamela’s putting on a show over there,” Benny nods to the bar where a clump of folks are cheering. Oh, Benny’s giving him an out. Freaking love this guy, he just knows what Dean needs and gives it to him. Which means Dean should buck up and do the same, even if that means sitting across from the megalDom who's giving Benny what he needs. Goddammit. 

“Whatever it is, I want one,” Dean slides right onto the bench. 

Benny kisses his cheek and raises a hand for the server and nudging the waiting heavily iced mineral water over. 

Murmuring thanks and sipping, Dean seamlessly twists to brace one foot on the bench, knee up and wight on his opposite arm. From Benny's deep breath, it's a good one.

Now to acknowledge the other one, “So, how was the special?”

That worked and the eye contact isn't even antagonistic, “Wonderful. I'm pleasantly surprised to find quality truffles used outside of exclusive food services.”

“I pick ‘em out.”

Benny snorts ad Cas’ eyes triple in size, “You what?”

Okay, maybe Dean is inherently antagonistic, fuck it, “I'm a no fungi fun guy.”

“That's sacrilege.”

His own laugh surprised Dean, “Just ‘cause it's expensive doesn't make it good.”

“Hmm, valid point,” which has them full-circle to Cas' burning holes through Dean.

But Benny keeps it light, “Comin’ outta the boy of this miracle wearing gold coins, well…”

“Big difference, hot stuff, I'm worth it.”

“Now that’s gospel.”

Dean hums happily as Benny nibbles his knuckles.

“What is your favored special, Dean?”

“Uh, Saturday.”

Sharks don't tilt their heads like that, right? No ‘cause there's no real neck, they’re all teeth, torso and tail. So what's this? Cas squints like, “Sushi?” is the most bizarre thing ever.

“Yup,” wrangling his eyes away to wave to a freshly seated table of drooling men, “It's all about presentation.”

“He’s underselling it. Those anomalies you noticed in the ledgers, most come from when this clever man sees an opportunity to toss a Molotov.”

“Oh?”

Dean takes this and is damn proud, “Strippers and seafood have a sordid perception. I shook things up a bit.”

“Mmm, more like behaved so damn good without any ropes,” Benny's getting growly, though he always keeps touch light and minimal out here. Can't give the customers ideas and red marks are for after work. “Laid out on a table, this fine body was the buffet.”

“Nyotaimori.”

Dean shrugs but Benny smiles proudly, “Sushi girls have nothing on this boy. We sell out.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“I'm a delicacy,” where the fuck did that come from?

“You're certainly mouth watering.”

Accepting the much-needed drink and muttering a thanks to the server, Dean winks at the kinda-seething Angel, “Gets the fans real thirsty.”

Fuck it all, Cas tosses his drink back and motions for another and definitely growls, “Which is clearly represented in the spike in bar and restaurant profits.”

Benny glances at his phone, “Dean's never not booked full, but the lots just reached cap not one hour in. Darlin', you're on fire.”

Dean cheers with his cup, freaking proud.

“Sessions as in one-on-one’s?”

Seriously? “Yeah, or two, four, whatever, they pay by the lap and I dance ‘em. Or other stuff.”

“From any other dancer I would assume something tawdry,” how can a voice sound so dry? “The Golden Rule.”

Benny's chest swells in that super possessive and protective way, just boom, power! “Heavily enforced.”

“So fucking hot, Papa,” Dean could crawl right under the table and would if they were at the other club. Instead, he gets a bit bratty and aims it at Castiel. “Bet you hate lap dances, right?”

Yup, his eyes narrow, “Why would you assume that?”

“‘Cause you're not in control. See, those scenes are mine, anything I want, only what I want. Other guy, well, he has to just sit there and sit still, can't touch any of this,” giving a scintillating roll of abs that has the accessories chiming, “while I can touch anything I want.”

Which earned laser beams searing into his bare flesh, “That's not a common predicament. I’ve always had consent to touch.”

The burned out husk of his throat scratches out a cough as he deflects, “Where, Pole Katz? Kiki’s Korner? We're a classy establishment, Novak.”

Benny interjects – intervenes? Maybe – with a light kiss to Dean's hair, “Filthy places. Nah, Cas here doesn't do lap dances.”

Dean scoffs before catching himself, “Called it.”

His big bear chuckles, *As in, never tried.”

“You're fucking with me.”

“No, Dean,” those huge sapphires roll all around the world, “I am not fucking with you.”

“Huh,” he lets the thought settle for a minute. Yeah, that fucker won't sink, it bobs up and he has to say something, “What the hell, man? How can you be in this business and not partake?”

“My involvement does not include participation in implementation.”

“That's a nice script. Doesn't really help in practice. It's like… being partners with the finest pastry chef,” leaning back to catch Benny's soft lips, “and never tasting that decadence.”

“I am,” Cas nods to include the entire lounge. “Food and multiple signature drinks have been sampled. Service has been observed, ambience noted, even the in-meal show sampled.”

Gulping a wad that manifested in his throat, Dean shakes his head and casually sips again, “That's window dressing. Macarons, scones, fancy rice crispy treats. I'm talking about the main event, the pie.”

A near-smipe twitches those lips, “A messy saccharine dish?”

“The sweetest, tartest, richest flavor out there, cradled in a golden crust, baked so piping hot you'll see steam.”

“The things that come out your mouth,” Benny mutters under his breath and taps away on his phone. “Saving that for a promo.”

“Hell yeah. I've gotta run, are you…?”

“Gonna be right here, cher.”

“Better be,” giving a light kiss and rubbing a thumb to blot away the gold shimmer. But some last bit of snark has his quipping to Cas, “Enjoy the scones.”

Sweeping through the floors with a constantly switching tail, Dean moves back into Kiyaya, the uber-confident persona guiding his movements. Backstage calls for brushing of teeth, mouthwash, fresh lips and a touch up of eye liner. 

A bouncer meets him at the personnel door to the Mag Mile, Axil leading through the hallways to the Den for the first session of the night. It's a 1A, or standard solo with no special asks, could do this with his eyes closed.

If they could close, which is strangely now a concern ‘cause none other than Castiel is seated on the sofa. Fuck. Me. Pulling Kiyaya right back into place, he lets the door close as he slinks around the perimeter of the room, his stalking bit is a fan favorite. Feeling the eyes tracking him, Kiyaya purrs, “Now this is a surprise.”

“Given that I'm looking for a wholistic venture, I would be remiss to not see for myself.”

“Bet,” although… “Benny coerced you into doing it.”

“Entirely.”

Yup, there's a laugh as Kiyaya eyes the client. Fuck, remove all the drama between them, this guy is fucking gorgeous. The faux-fur of the sofa gives him a King of Thrones vibe, enhanced by that godly visage. Mmm, he wants to ruin this deity.

“Did you pick a song?”

“Dealer’s choice.”

A couple taps to the panel and Cherry Pie pours over the speakers. Catching Cas’ arched Dom brow, Kiyaya shrugs, “Felt apt. Now you, swaggering real close, “sit back and watch.”

Usually the pole in the center of the room is only touched when folks pay for extra, but it's the perfect prop to warm up right in front of Cas– the client. The ambient air temperature rises as he dances, the clinking of his manacles and chains is even better than the music, getting himself too worked up. Timing the landing just right, he uncurls from the pole and right to his knees, crawling across thick padded carpet to the sofa, rising between the client's speed knees. Even in full man-eater mode, Kiyaya nearly hesitates before running his hands up the client’s thighs. It's hyperreal, kinda slo-mo ‘cause he realizes he is the first one to cross the no-touch line between Cas and Dean. First? Why the fuck is he thinking first? This is the only and it's not… this is Kiyaya and a client, that's all.

So it's Kiyaya who notices just how hard those thighs are, like the pillars of Atlas. And him who sees the client’s nostrils flare when Kiyaya drags nails back down. Fuck, that's heady. Sliding onto his lap, straddling the client, Kiyaya gives an inspired belly dance right here, the flailing charms bumping against the client’s torso. A fugue takes him, his body writhing in a whole new way and if there was enough clarity left, he'd try to memorize his own movements. Since there is none, it's probably lost to a fever dream.

The second song comes on and Kiyaya snaps out of it. Fingers race up the client's chest, tugging the slim black tie once before wrapping it around his hand, Kiyaya using it for some light leverage while arching against the client's chest, rubbing himself up until his dangling nipple chains are a breath from those thick lips. Not so much as a tech front he guy, he's got ice in his veins or something. And yeah, Dean wants to make him snap, but Kiyaya puts the kabash on that. No, just teasing and doing his damn job. 

Ass brushing against the client's things, he tucks the tie through the loop of his collar and tugs until Cas– the client is hovering so fucking close. Arched back in a seemingly tight space, this is just what he needs for the next bit; rolling his hips up, the tinkle of his loincloth against what must be stone wall abs so very loud. And rhythmic as he doesn't hump – he's a wolf, not dog – but definitely dances against the client's belly. Feeling his own cock taken interest has him shifting positions, can't be doing that in these sessions, yikes. With his back to the client’s chest, tie pulled until Kiyaya is flush as he gyrates, there is still no touching from the client. Good. There shouldn't be. So why the fuck is he disappointed? Squashing that. 

As the second song fades out, Kiyaya rises and curls around the pole for dramatic effect, hip twitching just enough to be sure his tail is swaying. A quick ocular inspection shows the client appears non-flustered, just calm and cool as a statue despite the flipped tie, slick hair now messy from Kiyaya’s fingers and shirt rumpled from, well, Kiyaya’s cock. Except for those eyes… yeah, there’s something deep n’ dark in those oceans, something big with lots of teeth. Fuck.

Work work work work… okay. Dean takes the driver’s seat now, “So, feathers, how’d that pie taste?”

Bronze fingers straighten his tie, Cas glancing down at what's gotta be a body oil stain on the back silk, oops. Any potential apology turns to ash on Dean's tongue ‘cause that supernatural beast looks him dead in the eye, lifts the tie to his mouth and fucking licks the spot.

“Mmm, coconut.”

Fuck.

Floundering and grasping for any handhold, Dean quips, “If I didn't know better, I'd almost think you enjoyed it.”

“You assume I didn't.”

“It was like dancing on a stone slab,” why the hell is he complaining? “Actually no, stone at least eventually warms up.”

“I refrained from making any contact with the dancer. What is the ‘correct’ behavior of a client?”

Feeling like a brat who kicked their own sandcastle, Dean jerks a shoulder, “Some sign of life. Whatever, ignore me, I don't handle criticism well.” 

“There is zero criticism from me, Dean. You created pure art, thank you.”

“Yeah.” Totally not blushing, this is just normal exertion. “So, now’s the part where you leave so I can entertain actual humans.”

Fuck if a smirk didn't pull those stoic lips as he gets uo, “Of course. Ah, Dean?”

“Sup?” Damn the room feels small with this guy on his feet.

“Benny and Jake have briefed me on the existing security protocols. Back here, I believe you have four panic buttons and live monitoring.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah,” he spins to point out the hidden buttons and the cameras tucked around for full scope.

“Good. If you were unable to reach any–.”

Dean bellows, “No!”

And the door flies open, the enormous bouncer tight there.

Dean pats Axil’s chest, “Just a test, showing the new guy how awesome you are.”

“Yeah, alright,” but the operatives here are kinda loyal, eyes still on Cas. “You sure.”

“Yeah. I'll be out in a second.”

As the door clocks shut, Cas hums, “Impressive.” 

“Well, glad something caught your eye,” aw fuck here he goes again. “I've gotta do some stuff between sessions.”

Cas nods and smooths his jacket, “I'm certain you'll shatter hearts tonight.”

“Nah, man, Kiyaya’s a werewolf, we eat hearts.”

The guy chuckles and strides out.

Which means Dean can breathe again. Holy shit, what was that?

Chapter Text

Every step through the low-lit hallway is painful. Only the strictest discipline prevents him from turning around and… and nothing. No, that would be foolhardy, inappropriate, wrong and yet he wants to. Castiel holds his breath and marches on, denying his traitorous body the oxygen to turn and race back to him. Pushing through theswinging door, he doesn't take a new breath until reaching the booth. Here the air is lighter, merely scented with countless patrons colognes, fragrances, foods, a miasma after the decadence he had experienced just moments ago. 

With measured movement he sits across from Benny, meeting those lovely eyes. They sparkle for just a second before the big man chuckles, “It's alright, Cas, that sweet thing could fluster a dead man.”

“I'm not flustered,” that was reactionary and incomplete. Fuck. Honesty is important on every side of a relationship. “Dean’s skills are exemplary.”

Benny smirks, “Mmhmm.”

Refraining from chastising the cheeky behavior, Cas yet again must balance their respective roles. Simple. Nothing he hasn't done with many times when involved in a multifaceted relationship. Methodically reaching for and taking a sip of his drink, the craft ice nearly shocking after the inferno with the Den. Meeting Benny's unwavering gaze again, “It was an unforgettable experience.”

Tracing the rim of his own glass, Benny’s fingers are rather mesmerizing. Castiel’s core hums as images flash through his mind, from Benny wrapping that paw around his cock and stroking on screen, to fingering himself open, to watching that huge fist disappear inside Dean's miraculous ass… Benny speaks and hopefully will distract Cas from dwelling on the growing need.

“We take road trips when we can get away. Sometimes with a destination in mind, others to just get out and explore.”

Cas settles back and listens.

“We’ve gone every direction and distance doesn't daunt us. Well, it's a bit one-sided, Dean likes to drive. Fresh tires, a full tank, playlist loaded and he is all smiles, just happy n’ free.”

He wants to see that. 

“Two summers ago we headed to South Dakota, he's got family in Sioux Falls, real good people.”

“That's an impressive distance.”

“Flies by when a man's got the best company,” that smile is soft and tender, an expression Cas is sure he has never worn himself. “We take turns picking where to stop next, hitting up all the most ridiculous places.”

Curious beyond reason, Cas asks, “Such as?”

“That ride, he aimed right for the Dinosaur Tracks park in Utah. Wanted to ‘compare shoe sizes,’” which has a laugh cracking from Cas' mouth before he can catch it. Benny just grins and continues, “I didn't see much more than a few questionable shapes in the rocks, but Dean's got a keen eye. We must've taken a picture with every dent he found, it was damn fun.”

“It sounds wonderful. How did the shoe sizes work out?”

Now Benny lets out a full laugh, a simply beautiful sound, “Just shrugged n’ said ‘I thought they'd be bigger.’”

Cas’ cheeks ache, unused to a smile this wide. 

“Next stop was just down the highway, we crashed at Big Rock Candy Mountain. It's as bad as the name implies and every activity was closed ‘cause of COVID. But we had air conditioning, cold beer and a warm bed, and yeah, we watched Jurassic Park.”

Certainly not something that Castiel Novak would find fun, interesting or even tolerable. And yet the concept is planting roots in his mind. 

“Fast forward 900 miles and I mean that seriously, he's got a dash of Ricky Bobby when he's behind Baby's wheel. Neither of us gave a damn about the history but went for it, hitting up Mt. Rushmore.”

“I admit, I wouldn't have stopped there.”

“Any other time, nope. But road rules called for it. Waded through other tourists, waited our turn. Got our selfies for the Adventure Journal, then Dean posed on the ledge for some inspired photos. I was taking a video when the skies boom and folks start shouting earthquake and everyone's racing off.”

“In South Dakota? That's geologically unlikely.”

“You've got a lot in that pretty head, man.” The simple compliment disrupts Castiel's train of thought. Benny taps on his phone and hands it over, “Press play.”

Dean is seated on a granite ledge, “– my better side.”

Benny's drawl is heard, “You've got more sides than Charlie’s dice. Pick, baby, that wall can't be comfortable.”

Dean twists to lay belly down on the ledge, his denim shorts cutting high on those golden thighs, “How's this?” And the creature kicks both feet up, red sneakers bright and bold. But the true focus is a brilliant smile as the man rests his chin on his forearms.

“Just right–,” Benny pauses as a clap of thunder crackles. There go the shouts around them, the protective man moving quickly to his partner and panning the camera. In just a minute they're apparently alone.

“Dude, you know what that was, right?”

The camera flips, now showing Benny leaning against the ledge, his partner’s chin and one arm draped over that deliciously thick shoulder. “If you say your stomach, I'm gonna remind you that you picked ghost pepper– ha!”

Dean had nipped his ear, his voice playful, “Jerky, babe, it's gotta be spicy.”

Another boom echoes from the phone's speakers. 

Turning to look behind him, Dean stage-whispers, “Remember the walking mountains?”

“No.”

“Lord of the Rings!”

“Oh yeah, I had some nice long nap– boy, pinch me again n’ you're going over my knee.”

“Promise?” A warm laugh, then, “So, there's a battle between some serious Super Smash Bros–.”

“So now it's a video game, Prince Peach?”

“We're gonna fight. Point being, something inspired actual stones to come to life. Babe, I think it just happened here.”

“Hot damn. Who do we call? Mario? That wizard? Ghostbusters?”

“It's okay, I've got you,” Dean kisses Benny's cheek, “they're just looking for one thing.”

Both men turn, Benny aiming the camera to pick up the distinct facades carved into the bluff, “Being?”

“My ass.”

The Cajun booms with laughter.

Dean climbs to his feet, long and lean and stretched tall with arms high, “My ass moves mountains!”

More thunder is heard and what must be a bolt of lightning, leading Benny to scoop Dean up and over his shoulder in a firefighters hold. He gives Dean's plush ass a smack, “Let the sleeping giants be, you–,” and the video ends.

Tempted to play it again, Cas immediately squashed that absurdity and handed the phone back, “Despite a near-uprising of Titans, you seemed very happy.”

“I am. Point being, my partner's impressive, can make the heavens clap for him. Got you ruffled which I'm somewhere between shocked and unsurprised about.”

Grumbling into his glass, Cas mutters, “Dead center.”

“Hmph. Now imagine how moved these people get.”

It has been years since Cas has ground his teeth, closer to decades, having broken himself free from the detrimental habit. Yet the inclination is there, his jaw flexing to chew through itself in frustration. Speaking forces the mutinous thing to stretch, “Which certainly highlights the primary security concerns.” Fuck.

“Believe me, it's always right here,” Benny pats his superb chest. 

Declining a refill from the server, Cas carefully asks, “Benny, please don't feel pressure or a necessity to answer this. You're truly comfortable with your partner’s, ah, performances?”

“Yup. Could be I have a thing for showing him off. Here, at Blieb, workshops, conventions, even just the grocery store. My sweet boy eats up the attention, just glows with it and shines that pretty smile at me. Nothing beats being loved by Dean Winchester.”

Ah, yes, the word Cas avoids at all costs. Yet with this couple, he could believe it exists. Interesting.

As Benny recounts details and stats of the performers that take the stage or roam the lounges, Cas makes mental notes. Each dancer that takes the stage clearly has talent. But not top tier talent. All of them go through a soft opening when first hired, which includes their sets must be approved beforehand, meaning Dean's reviews. Music is the dancer’s choice, except for Celine Deon, which has been eternally banned. Full nudity is allowed on the stages and in cages only, forbidden in private rooms; clearly for the safety of all dancers, avoiding an unacceptable risk to Dean. Preferences for private room sessions are…

“Beyond lap dance variations, what's on the session menu?”

“Add in props or ensembles. Then there’s a la carte, like in-person OnlyFans. The boys get requests to read someone a book, play a round of gin rummy, take a photo but hands off.”

“Hmm, the variables could be troublesome. Yet you consider it low-risk.”

“Year-over-year shows it. Folks paying for a dancer to autograph their yearbooks aren't causing problems. Dancers like it ‘cause it's mild and nearly a break.”

“Surely there are parameters.”

“Yup,” Benny flicks on the tablet, “always. With the app, it's so much easier to manage, can accept or decline with a tap. I know we're slated to talk tech tomorrow, but have you taken a look?”

“Only a cursory glance. Most technology assessments are Kevin's forte. But I am curious.” Constantly, it seems. A few taps and Ravissant is open, Benny guiding him to the booking page. “Hmm, how far out can someone reserve a session?”

“For five+ and events, a week. Most others are day-of.”

“As routines and performances will vary.”

“Mmhmm.”

Cas taps on a dancer’s image, scrolls the menu, then another, another. His thumb hovers over a flirty smile, cursing himself for not restraining his curiosity. He taps. As expected, every slot is greyed out as unavailable. Moving a week further shows no slots at all, though a menu of options is displayed. A short menu. 

“He’s a purist.”

The non sequitur has Cas pausing his diligent exploration of the application, “In regards to?”

“Look, man,” Benny rolls his neck that is looking quite lonely without a hand around it, bracing elbows on the table. “I know the look.”

“There is no look,” or there won’t be in a moment as the cold mask settles into place. 

Yet Benny laughs low and soft, “Can’t hide from me, Angel, I’ve got a 6th sense when it comes to Dean. He’s under your skin.”

But he isn’t and that’s the problem. Transparency is vital no matter one’s slight discomfort. Or frustration. “It would be beneficial for us to be on better terms. Conflicts can and do rise when dynamics shift, often to the surprise of those involved.”

“Every day brings a surprise, today a whole lot of them and I just roll with the tide. You, bet you’re shocked to be surprised.”

Perhaps Cas should have ordered another drink, one much more potent than this glass of water. “I’m confident that Dean and I can reach an amicable respect for the set boundaries. If for some reason that doesn’t occur and you’re negatively affected, a conversation will be necessary.”

Fuck, the Cajun just smiles and Cas is irrationally torn between wanting to demand to know why those lovely lips are curved, and wanting to feed his cock right between them. However, this is a professional environment outside their contractual agreement. As highlighted by the hot short and platform heel-clad server ogling Castiel, so fuck it, he orders a double. And tosses it back faster than normal, which surely led to further crumbling of his carefully constructed set of behaviors. Clinically eyeing the brunette on-stage stripping from a police uniform, Cas sees profit, not a person. No, his eyes land on the guarded swinging door, his curiosity spiking ever higher. “Purist.”

Benny hums at the non-question, “Babyboy can pull a marketing miracle outta thin air, but when it comes to dancing, he’s not into gimmicks.”

“We’re selling a fantasy, Benny,” this avenue is much easier, Cas wears business like armor. 

“Sure are. These talented men,” motioning around, “do just that. He doesn’t need anything more.”

“Is that a personal choice or a risk concern?”

“Oh always both, but I mean it wholly. Kiyaya wears n’ does what he wants, not about to bend the figurative knee for anyone out here or back there.”

“Hmm,” there goes the remainder of the smooth bourbon, “he is the fantasy.”

“Exactly.”

“I must say I’m intrigued,” raising an eyebrow at Benny’s scoff, “to see vastly differing sides to your partner. He thoroughly dominates this environment. I’m quite certain every swish of his lovely tail resulted in a dozen drink sales.”

“Spot on.”

“Yet he is a serene, deliciously obedient pet for you. Truly, Benny, what I had seen before,” ignoring the sharpness in his chest, “on camera, Dean gives himself over completely.”

Pride swells Benny’s chest, “Sure does. I love every blessed second of it all. Though sometimes it’s a fight to keep from too much overlap.”

“That I thoroughly understand,” voice crushing out now.

“Yeah? Daddy want something?”

Cas’ eyebrow rises, pleased at the flush beneath that soft beard, “I maintain professional behavior, darling, and I keep count.”

Benny’s head dips back slightly, eyes darkening in an expression Cas is increasingly fond of. “Must say I'm really liking that.”

“Good. We're at three.”

There's a low curse and Benny scrubs at his beard. 

Pleased, Cas holds onto the surefootedness control always brings. Unlocking his phone to message his driver, Cas comments, “Our meeting will be on schedule tomorrow. Plan for a long night.”

“Yeah, of course. You takin’ off?”

“Yes. The…” A familiar song comes on and words are no longer possible. 

Kiyaya was emerged once again.

The stunning creature is fluid, every motion smooth and entirely erotic. Evocative threads and coins flash so mesmerizingly that Cas would be entranced if not for the brilliant emeralds. Those eyes are bright above the teasing veil, alluring, captivating and he wants them in him. His own eyes don't blink while the enigma whirls amidst the throne of worshippers. 

As each piece of the costume is peeled away, this unwrapping is more exciting than any gift. Every inch of that body is divine, but it’s the veil Cas needs to see removed. Ah, there… even from here, Cas is certain he can see the freckles gracing that beautiful face. He wants to see each and every one while those painted lips wrap around his cock, huge eyes shimmering with tears as they stare up at him. Fuck.

Only when temptation himself struts off the stage does Castiel truly breathe again. And reaches for the empty glass. He must leave. 

Benny’s drawl is low and warm, “Should let me help you with that, Angel.”

Lust inflamed that much more, Cas could devour the man here and now. But he is stronger than his own desires, he must be, “I would shatter you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck,” yes, the enormous fighter liked that. “I'm game, but maybe not here.”

“Soon. Please be sure to rest well,” he stands and smooths his jacket, “tomorrow will be rigorous.”

“Promise. Huh, the boy got you good,” Benny nods towards Castiel's pants.

Having fought his cock all evening and night, Cas is certain his arousal is not apparent. He tilts his head in question.

“Those souvenirs are fought over by a whole lot of hungry men.”

The stain on Cas’ tie is not the only lucky fabric to absorb the essence of Dean; the thighs of his pants and various spots across his shirt have a faint glimmer. Resisting running a finger across the oily marks and getting the closest thing he can to a taste of Dean, Cas clears his throat, “For good reason.”

“Mmhmm. Damn, he got you good.”

Something flares through Cas’ chest, there and gone in a moment, leaving him briefly reeling. He must have clarity, “Surely an expected hazard.”

“Might be for most, but not this one. He knows exactly what he's doing, is damn careful about getting any of his pretty shimmers on anyone, anything. Boy’s a pro.” 

And yet Cas tasted coconut on Benny last night and is wearing a cashmere-silk blend that is now saturated with remnants of Dean. With the way those golden fingers had threaded Cas’ hair, raking it messily, surely the scent is there, as well. This is too much. 

A security operative rapidly approaches, leaning to speak in Benny's ear. It's not a slight to Castiel, they have yet to announce the shift in shared leadership to all personnel. Even so, Cas’ patience is evaporating. 

But Benny doesn't hold back, turning to him, “Nothing here, just some chatter around the strip.” A few words to the hulking giant and the operative walks away as Benny gets to his feet, “That problem you handled the other day, looks like that was just one head on a Hydra.”

Cold rage instantly ignites, “Explain.”

“I will when there's more to say. Right now, Crowley's guy heard something and is running it down.”

“Which guy?”

“Cain.”

Cas nods tersely, “A strong soldier. I expect to be notified the moment anything is uncovered.”

Benny nods and is clearly agitated, as is expected. The care in his lovely face is extraordinary, laced into his tight words, “These moments, I swear I could rip throats out with my teeth.”

The image itself… “I look forward to seeing exactly that.”

Those baby blues flicker to him, “You're a beast under there, Angel.”

“To put it mildly. Good night, Benny.”

“Night, Cas.”

Headed towards the lobby, his steps do not falter so much as they are drawn in another direction. Correcting himself, he's still facing the doorway to temptation when it swings open. There he is.

The moment those emeralds land on Castiel, he again is rocked by an absolute, he must have this man. But he cannot. Drawing on all self-control, Cas nods and keeps walking. Only once seated in the waiting SUV does he calm down. Briefly, though.

He makes a call that is answered on the first ring. Of course his command will be obeyed, Castiel Novak is a demanding employer and his personnel understand the expectations.

And once to his house Cas for once does not inspect the progress made by the construction crew. No, he grabs water from the kitchen and storms to his suite, not stopping until he’s facing the full-length mirror. The marks are faint but highlighted in his eyes. Each slick stain is a sign that Dean had been on his lap, glorious body wrapped around and rutting against him. These are battle scars in the fight against himself, ones Cas will treasure. 

And fuck.

He needs this, his cock finally given permission to react and run with it. Clothes are peeled off and flung onto the bed, naked in moments but for his tie. The silk knot is loosened, tail end wrapped around his own hand as Dean had done, but his other hand wraps his furious cock as he drops onto the dressing bench. Unwilling to resist a moment longer, his tongue laps across the silk again, groaning as the faint but devastating taste of Dean hits his senses. God, the way that body had moved on his lap, gracefully, erotically, deadly. Never has Castiel been turned on by someone else holding power and yet he is nearing the point of frenzy. Eyes squeezed closed and mind flooded with the memory, he fucks into his fist while sucking on the stain, but it's not enough. Grabbing his slacks to wrap a pants leg around his cock, all he can think of is the body oil and shimmer, rutting into the fabric, wanting to coat himself in the decadence. Wanting Dean. 

This orgasm crashes through him, every muscle seizing as he strangles his cock through every spurt. Hot and sticky and disturbingly wonderful, he’s buried in the folds of his own filthy suit. Clarity sinks in as he stares at the mess, bringing with it the monumental thought realization that he has never lost control of his own urges, not even when alone. What is happening?

Chapter Text

“Fuck, baby, this is lookin' damn fine,” Benny hums proudly while inspecting the red ropes. 

Starting out he had intended for a fairly simple corset harness, but as with any form of art, sometimes the muses just take over. Silky lines criss-cross and knot all around the finest frame, forming an intricate diamond weave from throat to groin and through every hooped piercing. Cuffs are braided up wrists and ankles, tied tight to the whipping post and anchored to the floor. 

The only response from the beautifully bound man is a faint grunt around the gag.

Patting Dean's cheek a few times, Benny croons, “Open these eyes, boy.”

Lashes flutter and eventually lids lift.

“There ya are. This one's inspired, it's going in the workshop. Pose pretty, pet.”

His boy is well used to being filmed and photographed, whether for their ventures or in-home adventures, just eats up the attention. Dean's emeralds just glow as he makes full eye contact in a way that puts every smize to shame, this is begging pride and packs a punch. Circling again, this time Benny has his phone out to record a full 360° video. Next are angled shots that show off Dean's perfection all wrapped up. Yup, these are going to get a lot of love.

“Atta boy, cher. You can rest now.”

Pleased with the turnout, Benny takes a seat and gives his cock a few sorely needed strokes. Sure, lust and need have been nipping at his heels all day, no surprise. It's just simmering now, always soothed for a bit by the actual motions of binding his partner. This is their calm zone, where Dean finds comfort in being restrained and Benny finds it in cocooning his lover, their needs are met together. Well, except for this one, Benny grins and gives the ring a good tug, thrilled with the still-new sensation. He's gonna get off but Dean's staying plugged, won't be cumming this morning.

Eyes coursing every inch while working himself up, it only takes a minute for that simmer to bring back the intense need. Oh, he had hoped their day would end with a rowdier kind of scene, but life is the least predictable thing. Worry and fear for his partner spiked with that incendiary chatter, got Benny’s protective hackles raised that much higher. Though it's a helluva feeling knowing they've got another major player ready to throw down for his boy. Ha, when Dean finds out he's got an Angel on his shoulder, well… that's probably gonna call for a neck-to-ankle corset and breaking in a new crop before Dean settles. Poor thing spiralled hard enough already, as soon as they got home just stalked right into the playroom and dropped to his knees. Sweet Dean needed this as badly as Benny. 

Thinking of, he runs fingers between lines supporting Dean's cake, never can resist feeling the contrasting textures. Cheeks spread by some skilled knot placement, leaving another work of art bare n’ beautiful. Working the fat plug free with a series of intentional twists, tugs and maybe push or two that has the pet humming around his gag. Look at that, Dean's rim has Benny's name stamped on it. Soft and spread, slack enough to do anything he wants, anytime, this hole is thoroughly, continuously wrecked and just the most incredible thing to feel.

Slapping his cock against the gape, Benny groans deep and nasty ‘cause the thick ring through his crown is a stamp all of its own. Which has him clenching, bearing down on the plug in his own ass and fighting a full-body shudder. Fuck, he wants to be wrecked. Images flood his mind of being pinned right here between this completely bound bundle of chaos and a furious Angel, a conduit between opposites forces of the universe, losing himself in the sensation… Benny buries his cock in one savage thrust. Soft walls tremble around him but don't clench, just welcoming him home again and again. There's nothing that comes close to being inside Dean, it's always a challenge to see how long Benny can resist hitting that peak and soaking this velvet hole. And right now that ain't long. 

Bucking through the breathtaking orgasm, fingers grip red rope as his balls empty, the wet squelch obscene and pure fucking music. And the view? Fuck. 

Patting Dean's flank and crooning praise that he knows is only half-heard as the boy floats in his headspace, Benny only pulls out long enough to grab his phone. Not second-guessing a thing because one of the few certainties Benny has in this life is knowing what's best for his partner. Even if it takes traveling the scenic route to get there, he's dead sure they're both gonna have some fun along the way and be better for it once there.

Dipping his cock back into heaven, a groan slips out, “Just the best, babyboy, so wet for me.” Back out again, he hefts his cock just right to keep the shiny threads of cum drooling between his ring and this gaping hole. A couple snaps and one of them is perfect. Tapping out a few words, Benny’s breathing isn't calming down post-orgasm, nope, he's staying revved. 

Thank you for the ring, Daddy [PHOTO]

Rubbing Dean's slick thigh, Benny isn't surprised but definitely tickled at a deep level when his chat is immediately read. Yup, here comes a reply.

C: Beautiful.

That simple praise hits Benny right in the solar plexus like a marshmallow punch. 

C: And so very messy . 

He knows the command. With a few flicks of knots, he moves his jelly-limbed pet to the custom-made lounger. Draped over the raised side, each limb is chained to the floor or posts, can't have Dean loose. But Benny does unbuckle the gag, tsking when the obedient thing tries to suck the short dildo back in, lips suckling. 

Phone in hand, he traces Dean's pouting lips, “I know it, boy, you're a fiend for cock. Papa wants to see n’ if you're good, you'll get a taste.”

It takes a minute but that's expected sometimes, muscles take time to wake up after this much pliancy. Ah, there they go, glimpses of green slowly come to light. Mmm, so little green, those pupils are blown and unfocused. And curved lips part, pink tongue sliding out flat and wide. Video is recording as Benny taps his cock on that pink, the ring twisting as he moves. A small whimper rises and it's okay, Benny wants it to be heard, thrilled with the debauched noises Dean makes when he tastes Benny's cum. Sure he'd love to cram his cock this wet, willing hole right here, but this is clean-up so Benny just angles his cock to make sure Dean's tongue laps up the mess. Once the ring is shiny with spit and his cock free, he drags it over Dean's lips just once while murmuring praise. A straw is then placed between those lips and held there until Dean swallows enough Gatorade to assuage his thirst. The gag goes right back in, with faint but happy sounds coming from the pleased pet.

Now Benny's turn. Placing his phone on a stand and adjusting the scope, he taps record and drops to his knees. Keeping his own hands down and off and using just his tongue and lips, Benny dives into this buffet. Licking, lapping, just fucking sucking around Dean's dripping rim, everything is gulped down until he finally touches with both thumbs, spreading the gaping maw to show just how spic n’ span his pet is. Rubbing at his sticky beard and other hand working a plug back in, Benny’s hovering in some swirly space. Has been for months now, amped up tenfold when Cas used Benny's hands that wild night. It's damn addicting. And for reflection later.

A glass of orange juice in one hand, phone in the other, he drops onto a chair and watches his man for a minute. Certain Dean's comfortable and secure, Benny uploads the videos. Sipping much-needed sugar and letting his mind wander, his eyes are already drooping. 

C: I'm very proud of you, darling. 

Man, he could use one of Dean's plush tails right about now, ready to wag.

C: Your pet appears sleepy. Let him rest. 

Oh, that was not unexpected, though Benny seems to be the only one understanding these dynamics.

B: Okay, Daddy

C: Good boy. I know it can be difficult to behave, so Daddy's going to help you. 

It's gonna be something painful and perfect, he just knows it. 

C: Shower now. I expect your plug back in your hole immediately and the spreader around your balls.

Fuck.

B: Yes, sir

Confident Dean will be a-okay, Benny does as directed. The shower feels wonderful, steaming his muscles and washing away that ever-closer ache of arthritis in his hands. Curse of the profession that lasts a lifetime. But his fingers are nimble enough, no complaints there. In fact, the three buried in his own ass right now are just fine. Fuck, what he wouldn't give to have Dean walk in here right now, those vibrant eyes watching Benny tugging his rim wider, showing him just how badly he needs this. There goes his cock, peeking right up and dammit, he shoulda known better. 

Clean and dry, he washes his plug and considers possibilities. Fuck it, this one’s his call. Strapping the tight leather around and between his balls has him hissing through his teeth in a real good way. Each step is a bit ginger into the playroom, though nothing his body won't get used to. But a grin replaced whatever expression was there a second ago, ‘cause Dean's lightly snoring around the gag. For the trillionth time since meeting his soulmate, Benny sends a question out into the cosmos, how is this man real? Just perfection incarnate.

Adjusting the chains a bit, he has Dean's wrists meeting now. Setting the plug flange between those clever fingers, Benny squeezes Dean's hands until the boy grips tight, eyes still closed. Slicking up the fat, knobby thing and then working a good bit of lube into his ass, Benny has goosebumps from anticipation. It's a bit cramped like this but gonna be more than worth it; he crawls backwards to press his ass up against the plug, arching to try and catch the tip. This sure ain't easy. Reaching back to adjust the angle, he finally feels it against his hungry pucker. Ah, there we go.

A gurgle rises behind him, that would be Dean groaning around thick silicone. And the plug is now held rigidly.

Sure enough, a glance back shows Dean's eyes open, lashes fluttering as the boy blinks over and over. Shit, Benny's nearly-positive it's just his pet trying to focus, but with the level of bondage they get up to, blinking is their go-to communication. Twisting, he unlatched the gag and it drops right out as Dean lets loose another delicious moan.

“You okay, cher ?”

“Please, Papa!”

“What's that?”

“I want,” Dean licks across his spit-slick lips, eyes wild, “lemme plug you, please, want that so bad!”

“Fuck,” Benny spins right around, spreading his hips further to give Dean a full view. Working his ass onto the plug, he's panting as his balls ache just right in their binding. 

Broken whispers from Dean go unpunished, it's just incendiary hearing him want this, and it strokes more than just that fat tip inside Benny. Roped and shackled, Dean's hands can't move more than a few centimeters where they grip the flange, but Benny feels it amplified through his ass. He bucks back, nearly breathless from doing this, having Dean right here and watching, helping. By the time it's seated, he's sweating and borderline desperate. Then fully desperate when he feels a tug, realizing Dean's fingers are still clamped around the plug, shifting it back and forth ever so slightly. There won't be any release of this pressure, the command was clear, Benny’s not cumming until Cas allows it. Shit, if that wasn't in place and Benny wasn't so very invested in behaving, he'd be setting Dean loose with a demand that the boy finally fuck his needy ass. None of that helps Benny calm down. 

Painfully pulling away and turning on his knees, he takes what he can, licking between Dean's gasping lips. Drinking down that flavor, he noses at Dean's flushed cheek, “Darlin', that better happen soon.”

“Benny,” it's a choked sound, holding a thousand words in two syllables.

With a soul-deep sigh, Benny kisses soft and gentle, then, “I know. Something new every day.” But the sun always rises so there will be a million more days, mmm. On his feet, he takes a couple photos of himself, and sends proof to Cas. He waits to move Dean, ‘cause– yup, his phone chimes.

C: Very good, Benny. Rest, both of you.

B: Going to bed now. 

Unshackling long limbs is easy, dropping the majority of the diamond weave is simple thanks to the quick-release he always works in. A basic chest harness is knotted into place, one of the secure yet comfy ones Dean loves to sleep in. Pulling his man to his no doubt tingly feet, he rubs hands up and down Dean's arms to help with circulation. “How're you feeling?”

Those delicate brows pinched for just a moment, “Weird. I… in bed?”

“Of course. Bathroom first?”

Dena nods.

Bracing his partner to the attached bathroom, he sets Dean on the toilet and unplugs his fat cock. There is no part of caring for Dean that Benny doesn't love, and helping him piss is way up there. Holding the warm, smooth cock and aiming it down, feeling it tremble just a bit as Dean releases, rubbing a thumb along a thick vein while crooning praise for Dean being such a good boy, it's damn special. Benny cleans him up, replaces the rod so it sits right against Dean's now-empty bladder. Ah, here's another one of his favorite bits: at the foot of the stairs, he scoops his partner into his arms and carries him up. Most days he sets Dean on his feet once they reach the landing, but the way these long arms climb around his neck, Benny’s heart is thudding happily and his feet trek to their bedroom. The black sleep tail is attached, more Gatorade shared between them, phones on the chargers and their heads on pillows. 

Dean draws a long, deep breath, then rolls to his side, finger rising to scratch into Benny's beard. It takes a few minutes, but Dean's brave, “I didn't think anything would really change.”

Always melting when Dean lets him, Benny’s voice is thick, “We're still us.”

“Yeah. Just… he's not my Dom.”

“Nope.”

“I don't think he gets that.”

“Why's that?”

That little huff of frustration is damn cute, Dean gives tugs at the white patch on Benny's beard, his favorite spot to fiddle with. Then, “The way he looks at me.”

Oh, Benny knows, but his partner has to voice it himself, so prodding is needed, “Everyone looks at you, darlin'.”

“Fuck yeah. But it's different. Oh, by the way, screw you for sending him to my Den.”

Benny laughs and snags a kiss from those pouting lips, “Aw, baby, I couldn't resist. Life just isn't the same after this fine man struts in. But I'm betting you made it real special.”

“Obviously, I'm a pro,” there’s the haughtiness. And… there's the moodiness, “Not my fault that he's some weird statue, doesn't move a muscle when someone’s looking.”

“You n’ Charlie need to quit watching so much Doctor Who.”

“Not happening. Doesn't matter, I guess, dude wasn't into it.”

“Now I know that ain't true.”

“I was there,” Dean pushes Benny to his back, laying his pretty head on Benny’s chest. “He just… sat there. Yeah, I know that's what guys are supposed to do, okay. There's always a reaction, something. I'm telling you, babe, his pulse was prolly lower than a hibernating frog.”

“Hmm, I saw the slick you left on him, guess you were close enough to check his heart rate.”

Dean freezes, “Fuck. I was annoyed n’ trying to prove a point. Guess I failed.”

“Nah, babyboy, you shook Cas. What point?”

There's a shrug and Dean's tracing circles across Benny’s belly, “He's not my boss. I mean, you two are business partners–.”

“So are you.”

“Yeah, just on a different level. I love my big Papa taking care of everything for me.”

Pleased, Benny presses a kiss into that soft golden hair.

“Guess we're on even ground there. Um… he's your Dom, but you're mine only. But he was asking stuff like did I eat n’ shit. All up in my personal space, y'know?”

“Hmph, he's got presence.”

“I guess. Know what sucks? Every freaking dance always gets me something. Dudes sweat or drool or gush about how good I am, normal stuff. I swear that uptight guy literally said thank you,”   mimicking the graveled tone, “and next breath was asking about security protocols.”

“Safety first, darlin',” and damn, that felt wonderful to hear.

“Sure, but not like that. I’m trying to say… fuck, I have no idea.”

“Your feelings were hurt.”

“No!” There's another huff. Four ticks later, “Maybe. No, not feelings, just… professional pride.”

“Hmm, I can't speak for anyone else, but my own professional opinion,” grinning when Dean pinches his hip, “is that you're giving him a run for his money.”

“I'm not trying to be a dick.”

“That's not what’s happening, cher. But I'm so proud of you for talking n’ telling me.”

“I love you, babe.”

“To the stars.”

Chapter Text

Warm and content, the sun is shining down on Dean, so bright all around but it's nice and dark behind his eyelids. He's laid on his belly with a cheek on folded arms, so blissed out while fingers trace down his spine and up his leg. Slow and strong brushes circling, dragging, teasing. They spread across his other cheeks, kneading with such skill that every muscle just melts. Dean shivers with languid excitement as puffs of warm air ghost the small of his back, then purring when lips press in and bite. Sharp and fast and again and again and those aren't lips, they're mosquitoes! Dean flips over to swat the accident of evolution and–.

“Wakey wakey wakey!”

Dean groans and pulls a pillow over his face.

“Nope!” And here return the mosquito bite pinches from bony fingers.

“Dammit, Charlie,” he blindly seats back, “what d’ya want?”

She bounces around the bed to wiggle right next to him, “I feel really bad for ditching you the other night so,” with a hand strong from all that keyboard slapping, she whips the pillow away, “I'm going to make it up to you.”

Rubbing at bleary eyes, this could be good, okay, “Breakfast in bed?”

“By taking you shopping! And we can definitely get breakfast.”

“Just order online.”

“Any other day, duh. But I need inspiration for something really good to give,” and she shuts her lips.

Dean sits now, glaring at his best friend, “You're not taking me, you want a wingman.”

“Okay, but why can't it be both? Twofold. Two birds, one stone.”

“Not at… dammit, not even two o’clock!”

Charlie does that horrible thing which makes her eyes all big and pointy, looking like the cat from Shrek. Yeah, he knows better, she could legit have a sword on her, too.

“Why?”

“Because… I was an ass to Dorothy.”

“Apology gift?”

“Mega apology.”

“Fine, but you owe me double now. I was having an awesome dream.”

“Ooh, cars or sex?”

“Why can't it be both? Beach, I was,,,” that can't be right. There's no way. Dean shakes his head to clear his confused brain. Kicking the blankets back and noisily getting to his feet, “Untie me?”

“Gotcha!” This time those spider fingers are actually helpful, “The photos from this morning are awesome.”

“Didn't look yet. Thanks.” He drapes the ropes across the headboard and stretches.

“Major hit, you rocked that diamond. People love new, already got a crazy number of hits on the workshop site.”

“Sweet. It felt great, spreading out the pressure.”

“I should sign Dorothy up for a course, her rope work is– dammit, okay, stopping myself.”

Dean laughs and heads to the bathroom, if his BFF and her GF weren't butting crazy heads, he wouldn't recognize them.

A quick shower and a full skincare routine later – love your skin, folks – he's lacing up combat boots. Charlie's chatting non-stop as he gives a spin in front of the mirror. A blush pink and olive green striped crop tank top, low-rise skinny jeans and a belt with his favorite buckle: OWNED. Got Benny's name on his finger and brand over his cock, perfect.

An hour later he's got an omelet under his belt and feels mostly human. Easily half of it's from the food alone. Maybe close to 90%. Whatever, he's not even complaining that they’re at Bass Pro Shops. Why Dorothy would like a tackle box as a sorry for screaming gift, to each their own. And he only once mentions how fighting all the time cannot be healthy for either of them or a sign of a healthy relationship. It was hard.

Charlie just huffs, “You clearly have never dated a woman.”

He laughs, “Can't say I have. But even so, you know something’s not right.”

“Ugh, I know. But my mind is a wad of gummy worms, I have no clue what I want to do!”

Shaking his head at the fugly windbreaker she's holding, “Have you actually talked about it?”

“Yes! Well, no, not really but I meant to! But then I may have picked an argument about us arguing.”

Bitinghis tongue, biting his tongue, biting… “What about counseling? Cesar n’ Jesse swear by this lady in Summerlin, they go just for maintenance .”

“Hey, I'm all for a neutral third party,” but she's hedging, doing that waffling thing while poking at another terrible jacket. “Maybe I'm crossing my fingers that some,” she sighs, “really ugly outdoorsy things will make her happy. Since I obviously don't.”

“Rust, look at me,” he wants and finally just spins her around. “Talk to her.”

“It's just so awkward and I suck at saying sorry. I mean, I say it all the time, but I don't usually actually mean it.”

“Awkward for a minute, then it's out and you can work on it.”

“I hate all of these. Let's try camping stuff.” She tugs his arm and they're off,  That kind of thing only happens in your life. Find me the female version of Benny and life would be all sunshine and rainbows for me, too.”

“Everyone’s got a perfect match.”

“Yeah, but yours is an actual superhero.”

“Damn right he is,” he cups fists, ticks elbows, takes jabs at the mannequin. “The Ragin’ Cajun, fastest fists in the Gulf.”

Charlie leaps on the distraction, balling her fists and looking like a cartoon character, “The Beast of the Bayou taking a bite outta crime!”

Dean grins while dodging her wide and wobbly swing, “Cypress King n’ his legion of strippers.”

Their banter keeps up as they course the entire freaking store. Downside, their search is a flop.

“Nothing’s right,” Charlie chews her lip.

Should he bite his tongue, or… BFF code has his tongue moving, “What about a different genre?”

“I wish! But she doesn't get satire and is ‘so over 10-ply soft scifi’ drama.”

“Not what I meant, but damn, really?”

Charlie pouts and nods. 

This time he does bite his tongue and only makes a suggestion, “I'm saying, raise the ante. Counseling.”

“And do what, say, hey, babe – oh, she’s also suddenly anti-sobriquet!”

“The hell you say!”

“Seriously. It's all, I have a name, please use it. Which obviously means my fruity loops go right to every ridiculous pet name possible. Suffice it to say, Dorothy does not like being called a chickie nuggie.”

“The heathen.”

“Right? Ugh, and you're right. But I don't want to ask them alone, pwetty pwease?”

“Yeah, got you, lil bit.” A glance at the time and he's scouring mental calendars, “Cesar should be on now. Let's run by the club.”

Half an hour later, Dean's climbing out of the cramped Beetle, lovingly named Hermione. Who needs legroom? A couple heavy and sinfully scented bags in hand, they hand out baked goods to coworkers and buddies along the way. He starts the conversation with Cesar as the busy man keeps the kitchen cranking out sublime dishes. Sure enough, the guy is more than willing to talk about counseling, which makes it easy for Dean to slip away once Charlie gets her hopeful face on. Now to find his man.

Coursing the hallways and poking his head through every door, it takes a minute and his goodie bags are substantially lighter. Sure, dancers like him have to be stringent on what they eat, but the support staff are all for wolfing down a warm, flaky lump of carbohydrates, mmm.

An unfamiliar sound echoes the walls, pausing Dean. Sure, that was a laugh, duh, but why is his chest tight? Shaking it off, he follows back to the source which lands him at the door to a conference room. He knocks, waits for Benny’s reply and pushes in. 

His stud is looking fine as hell, that smile rising even as the other heads turn to Dean, “Whatchu doin’ out, babyboy?”

“A tornado hit our bed, I'm a casualty,” he swaggers right over and slides across Benny's lap.

“Can't fight nature,” that soft beard drags as sweet lips peck Dean's.

“Nope. It was a biggie, so I'm awake.” Dean addresses the other faces, nodding and not quite meeting the Angel's eyes. But he grins at the Clark County Sheriff, “Hey, Jodi! How're the girls?”

“Exhausting. We just got back from the Smokies and the arguing has me mad Donna ready for a solo vacation.”

He chuckles goodnaturedly, a big fan of the Wayward household. A chin thrust towards the other guy, “You know this is Vegas, right?”

Hendricksen just gives him a look, “Now that you mention it, I might've seen a sign somewhere saying that.”

“Just saying, you're out here in the devil’s backyard wearing long sleeve, what is that,” he reaches to pluck at the detective’s sleeve, “polyester-linoleum blend. This isn't Boston, we have standards.”

“I'm not one to lower the bar, so I'll keep my Baltimore standards.”

With a cheeky grin, Dean pushes drops the bag into the table, “Ooh, think I struck a nerve. I come bearing gifts.”

Yeah, Vic snatched it real quick, opening for a whiff, “Hell yeah, now this,” pulling out a chocolate croissant, “almost makes me forgive you.”

Jodi finds a kitchen sink cookie, “Alex is on a cleanse, hid all the good stuff. Oh, come to mama, you sweet thing,” and bites right in.

“Boy, you're drooling,” lips nip at his ear.

Dean sighs, “It just looks so,” his eyes track as Cas sorts through the bag, coming back with a mini cheesecake, “good. Ah, there's a beignet for you.”

Benny grins and kisses his cheek, “You spoil me, cher .”

Hendricksen scoffs around his pastry, “Pretty sure that's the opposite.”

“Pampered, wise guy, there's a difference.”

Taking a deep whiff of the sugary heaven as Benny gets his treat, Dean forces himself to focus. Right. “So, what's up?”

It's quiet but for munching, everyone chewing except Cas. Not that Dean looked, he's just observant. But it's Jodi that speaks first, “Do you want to know?”

Shit. 

Turning back to his partner, he sees the worry in those gorgeous eyes. Rubbing fingers into Benny's beard now, “Papa?”

“I'll never hide anything from you, darlin'. Right now, I'm confident we can handle things with some slight adjustments. But if you want details, they're yours.”

Dean's a worrier, just is. If his friends or family or even a stray dog are at risk, he churns like a cauldron of bile. But for himself? Pff, he's fearless, a luxury possible only because he has the most loving partner ever and Benny keeps him safe. That assurance is so bonedeep, once he had described it as he could be the only Omega in a city of knothead Alphas and he wouldn’t sweat a drop. Sure, he has been kinda high at the time, but that's the honest truth.

So, “You know what's best. But what kind of adjustments, anything that'll disrupt performances?”

This one is Castiel, those big eyes just so direct, “Not on our end. Security process updates will be made across the board, some have already been initiated.”

“Alright. Like what?”

“Your shadow grew,” the Detective has noncompunctions about talking with a full mouth.

“You calling me fat?” Which earns Dean a poke from his bear.

“Yup. In fact, you grew a second head, so maybe you'll make smarter decisions.” 

“Screw you, Vic,” said with zero heat.

“Charming,” that would be Cas grumbling while staring at the cheesecake on a napkin. One long finger is tracing the crust, just circling…

Dean wrenches his eyes away and finds somewhere else to look. Ah, Jodi, she's a safe space. And is giving him a look. Awesome. He pushes on, “What's this other head?”

“More like a tail,” Benny offers Dean his water canteen first, “Personal security for anytime you're not here or home.”

Taking a gulp and handing it back, “Sounds invasive. You sure?”

“Needs to be done, baby.”

“Whatever you think is best, Benny,” honest from the soul. “Who, when?”

Cas is still playing with his food, must not be into sweets or something, “As of last night. The operatives will rotate as needed to match your activities. Meg is the head of the task force.”

“You?”

Now the guy looks up again, doing that stupidly adorable head tilt and squint, “Pardon?”

“You're the meg, right?”

Cas just blinks, “I'm not following.”

Great, now everyone's staring. Clearing his throat and shrugging, Dean tries to play it off, “Y'know, you're like this deadly apex beast n’ a Dom, so MegaloDom. Meg for short.”

Snickers are all around and Benny's lips are shaking against Dean's neck. But it's the crack of lightning and thunder that has Dean's hair standing on end, the same sound he heard on the hallway: Cas is laughing. Only lasts a second but packs a heavyweight punch.

“No,” the stone mask is nearly in place already, just a quirking of lips left, “though that is strangely pleasant to here. I'm referring to Meg Masters. Ah, speak of the Demoness.”

Someone steps in, a new character. Petite, brunette, smirking like she knows what's up. 

Cas motions her closer, “Meg, Dean.”

He nods, “Yo.”

“Hi.”

Being a gracious host or asset or whatever the right term is, he motions to the bag, “Help yourself, fresh from the oven.”

“Oh, I know, had myself a cinnamon bun while you and your bestie argued about M&M’s versus chocolate chips.”

Okay, so this woman has been following him. He could be annoyed about the invasiveness, but he's not ‘cause if Benny thinks it's necessary, he's not about to ball. Instead, he goes with, “Who was right?”

“Your pretty lil’ friend.”

Interesting. “But they don't melt! Who wants to bite into a cookie and feel a crunchy shell? Might as well just replace ‘em with sunflower seeds.”

She pops a hip, “In the words of Red, who wants to hold a melted mass of chocolate? It’s messy.”

“It's amazing. Besides,” he tilts to nuzzle Benny's cheek and whisper, “clean up is half the fun.”

“Damn right, babyboy,” this bear is all for it, mmm. “It's just for a while until heads are chopped.”

“For the record,” Jodi holds up a hand, “I heard that figuratively.”

“Of course,” Benny's so smooth. “So I just need you to go with it for a bit, alright?”

“Yeah, I'll be a perfect gentleman.”

“Thank you, cher .”

Meg arches a smarmy brow and definitely seems to have enough sass to keep up with Dean, “Now that we're all friends, I'm going to introduce myself to the yummy ginger.”

Huh. Nope, he's not intervening, Charlie's a grown woman and can shoot down or accept whatever she wants. Just weird, right? Still, he's gotta say his piece, “Better play nice, Meg, Charlie’s a badass.”

“Guess I'll have to take a look for myself.” The intense woman’s eyes are on Cas now, “If you're just going to finger that pie, want me to grab something better for you?”

If Dean hasn't been watching so closely he might've missed the near-eye roll. Why's he looking? Dammit. But Cas doesn't miss a beat, “No, thank you.”

Meg’s eyes narrow for a second before spinning on her heel and matching out.

Hendrickesen’s saying something about Dataminr trends but there's a thought circling Dean's mind. Round and round like Cas’ finger on the… oh. “It's cake.”

The cops ignore him but Benny's got a silent laugh vibrating his chest, swear this stud can read Dean's mind.

Those sapphires pin Dean, an eyebrow climbing to his hairline, yowza.

Dean clarifies, “Cheesecake, not pie. Huge difference.”

That finger just keeps going, must be the equivalent of tapping fingers or bouncing a knee. “Hmm, an argument could be made either way.”

“Cake is literally in the name.”

“A misnomer. There's a crust,” round again, then a poke into the raspberry goopiness, “and filling. Pie fits.” That finger pops right between the guy’s lips and is not sexy. Not at all.

“Hold on, you can't just name pie. There's a standard. It has to be awesome or,” Dean drags a finger across his own throat.

Cas lifts the cake and takes a bite, those perfect teeth breaking off a solid third. Fuck if he doesn't make a rumbly humming sound.

And Dean casually snags Benny's water for a long, slow sip. Just normal thirst, that's all.

“Mm, it's quite good. I'm not convinced it's awesome, though.”

There's a light pressure against Dean's hip, the nudge from Benny that always means hop to. Alrighty then.

“Well lucky for you, I've got a refined palate. C'mon, share.”

He does after a second of hesitation, Cas slides the wax paper across the table.

Jodi dusts her hands and adjusts her laptop, “Coming from the guy who ate an entire meatloaf in one sitting.”

“Home cooking is next level, it's a testament to your own awesomeness.”

She laughs, “I'm sure it has nothing to do with the bacon bits baked into it.”

Dean grins back, “Icing on the cake. Speaking of,” he lifts the tart to Benny’s lips, squirming when the big guy holds it between his sharp teeth. Taking small nibbles, Dean’s kinda purring as the flavors explode on his tongue. The remainder he pushes past Benny’s lips, following with his tongue to seal them as his stud chews. Delicious.

That sexy drawl tickles his ear, “I'm goin’ with awesome.”

“Fuck yeah, Papa. Alright,” he meets Cas’ stormy eyes head-on, “point is yours. Honorary pie.”

“I graciously accept.”

Stomach twisting in an unknown kind of knot, it's close enough to panic and gets Dean on his feet. Plucking at Benny's short hair, he nods to the group, “Finish off the goodies or take ‘em home.”

Jodi shakes her head as she grabs the bag, “Claire won't say it, but thank you.”

“Ha, I would never expect more. Alright, babe,” getting his smooch in and forcing his fingers to stop fiddling, “I'm probably gonna crash at Charlie's tonight, full bake fest.”

“That bad?”

Dean sighs, “Sure isn't pretty.”

Hendricksen holds no punches, “Is she still with that evil witch? Ow!”

Neither does Jodi, having smacked the guy, ha.

“As of ten minutes ago, yeah, so I'm wingman tonight.”

“You're a great friend, cher. Come find me before you take off.”

Stealing a final kiss ‘cause he can and maybe ‘cause Benny tastes like raspberry, “Yup.” He waves to be others, keeping his eyes off him, though it's like fighting the pull of a magnet. Ah, yeah, let's just add a second knot in his gut, amazing. 

Quickly escaping– no, walking out the door, he heads to the kitchen. Fuck it smells amazing in here, mmm, none of that greasy, old oil and burned eggs odor reeking up other joints. Nope, this is paradise. 

Cesar’s doing a line of sauce samples, one spoon after another, giving a thumbs up or feedback. Guy’s a pro. 

When the spoons are clean, Dean saunters closer, “Carpaccio, really?”

The chef is a master of multitasking, whisking up a bowl while shouting orders to someone, then, “Venison always sells out.”

“Yeah, the meatballs and that one you did with wine n’ blueberries. But raw?”

“Meat’s meat and man’s gotta eat.”

“Shit,” he holds his elbow out for a non-hands high-five, “great reference. What's the sauce?”

“Lemon, olive oil, horseradish, m–.”

“Nope, lost me there.”

“You're a neanderthal, Wimchester.”

“Rude. Where's the Bug?”

“Making an appointment.”

“Awesome. Hey, thanks.”

“It's what friends do. Ah, Dean?”

He waits.

“Between us,” Cesar’s voice is low, “I hate Dorothy.”

“Right there with you.”

Thanks to a tip from another dancer, Dean finds Charlie in his dressing room. And she's crying. Fuck. He gently closes the door and settles on the loveseat, giving her space and waiting for… 

Charlie twists and throws herself across Dean’s lap. These aren’t just sad tears, they're moving to angry ones as she spills. She tried, right, called her girlfriend to ameliorate things, but at the first mention of counseling things went so far south that hellhounds were seen. He pats her head, offers general comfort, supports her thought process, until… 

Charlie sniffles, “Now it’s even worse ‘cause everyone likes her so much.”

“Uh, no, we like you, string bean.”

Which has the crazy thing leaping up and swiping tears back, “I’m a top character?”

Dean lets out a puff, “Dude, you’re the character, okay. Whatever happened,” and he doesn't want to hear any more details‘cause he’s not about to hit a woman or Dorothy , ugh, “next steps are on you, Jedi Queen.”

She gives her orange craziness a shake, then, “Gone, erased, CTRL+ALT+DLT!”

“Emoty your recycle bin.”

Which has Charlie squeaking and diving for a tight hug, “She laughed at me.”

Dean lowers his voice to get as gruff as possible, “Fuck her to Oz n’ back.”

“I love you, Dean Winchester.”

“Yeah, I know,” he kisses her head, “What’re we gonna do?”

She’s all elbows as she whirls on the loveseat and bats at his hands, “Let’s go out! No more thoughts on an angry, vengeful, jealous witch.”

“Know what’s big around here?”

“If it’s not tourists wanting to buy our sexy asses a drink, I don’t care.”

“Hell yeah! Rust is kicking the bucket loose and going full Phoenix.”

Charlie’s eyes go next-level, “Mean that? Think I can?”

“Girl, I know it like I know how many toes I’ve got.”

She huffs, “Okay. Can I borrow something?”

He laughs and shoves her back, “Have at it, just stay outta the garment bags. Those are for Papa.”

She coos and starts flinging off nerdy layers.

Dean ducks into the bathroom and then heads right to Benny’s office, hoping he's done with that meeting. Through the partially open door, he sees his mega stud leaning against the builtins, rubbing at his neck. Dammit, bet he’s carrying stress right there. Okay, Dean shoves up his metaphorical sleeves and is ready for a second round of offering to soothe and relax. A special rap on the door has a quiet laugh fogging through the gap in the doorway.

“C’mon, dalrin’.”

Yup, Dean pushes in, “Babe, it’s bad, that name has been added to the she who shall not be named list.”

Benny sighs, his massive chest rising like a mountain, this man is hot, mmm. “Was bound to happen, but that doesn't make it easier on her. Whatcha thinkin’?”

“I wish it was anything– ah…” great, there’s a judgemental Angel leaning against the far wall. Okay, Dean’s got his brave bitch boots on, so he manages a nod, “Cas.”

And straight murder aims right back, “Dean.”

One syllable and yet felt in his actual toes. Fuck. 

Eyeing his partner again, “Babe, you're tense.”

“Don't mind me, just need a good stretch.”

“Didn't get to the gym?”

“Busy day, cher.”

Dean points to the chair, “Sit.” And circles behind to knead into Benny's dense shoulders while rehashing the breakup. Gradually the tension beneath his fingers lightens, his stud finally relaxing for a minute. 

“Boy, you've got some magic in those hands.”

Preening just a bit, Dean kisses Benny's head, “Anytime you need ‘em, they're yours.”

“Sweeter than honey, that's you. Thanks,” Benny snags Dean's hand, kissing the tattoo which always gets Dean's heart a bit goopy. “Wherever you're–,” pausing at another knock on the door.

Charlie pokes her head in, “Can I come in?”

Benny chuckles, “You already are.”

She hops all the way in, “But I still have manners. Holy crap, you're gorgeous!”

Because Dean's innately observant, he sees a flash of amusement in Cas’ eyes just before the guy actually smiles. Wow… that's a good look. Ah.

The Angel hokds out a bronze hand, “Hello, Charlie, I'm Castiel.”

She takes it and gawks so blatantly it's kinda funny, “I'm….wow. Does your throat hurt?”

Up goes that eyebrow, “No.”

“Pff, you're probably used to it by now.”

Cas just stares and waits.

Here's Charlie’s insanity, “Gargling with glass.”

Ha. Except… the thought slips out as actual words, dammit. “Granite.”

Both of them stare at Dean now, but at least Charlie’s gaze is easier to hold. Clearing his throat and tensing a bit even as Benny kisses another knuckle, “Y’know, scraping bedrock, churning gravel, shows up on the Richter scale.”

“Oh my goddess, that's it! Would it be weird if I ask you to say my name again? I wanna record it so whenever I get cold I can play it and just start shivering to warm up.”

Now this is a full smile, wide and so bright there's gonna be a blind spot seared into Dean's eyes. Cas shakes his head, “That's quite flattering.”

Benny’s got a laugh in his tone, “You're sounding peppy, woman.”

“I,” up goes her pointy chin, “am looking in the bright side. No more curfews ‘cause I'm free-range now.”

Dean leans across the desk to offer a high-five, “Damn right, the Queen is back.”

“And ready to slay!”

“Good, so long as you're smiling,” Benny's just the best.

“Yup! It's that one,” she points at Dean, “who's gonna be crying.”

“Please, I can handle my liquor.”

“Oh, I changed my mind, I don't wanna bar hop, we're going to the aquarium.”

Works for Dean but he's obliged to tease, “You're not gonna find a mermaid.”

“Yes I will! But not today, I want carnage. Like a massive shark tearing a tuna apart, total beast mode.”

Cool, so Dean's mind went there and he's sweating as images of Cas’ teeth sinking into Dean's thigh flood his mind. Fuck! Those sapphires are suddenly on him and now Dean can't breathe… 

Benny grabs his water bottle and holds it for Dean, he knows, but speaks to Charlie, “My boy ain't squeamish.”

“No, but after that we're going go-karting and,” she drum rolls on the desk, “laser tag!”

Okay, Dean can control himself better now, though he takes another gulp of water. “Please, like you can out drive me?”

“Yup! Ooh you guys should come!”

Amazing.

Benny shakes his pretty head, “Too much work to do.”

“I'm not accepting any excuses.”

“That's a kind offer, Charlie, thank you. Benny and I have tasks to address.”

“Boo! Fine, but next time you're coming. Let's go!”

Dean's shaking his head as the woman bounces out the door, “I'm already exhausted.”

“I don't envy you. Have fun, babyboy.”

Snagging a kiss and murmuring love, Dean braces himself before speaking directly to Cas, “She's hyper but seriously awesome.”

“I can see that. You're a good friend, Dean.”

If he had his tail… moving on. He says bye and takes off to hunt Charlie down yet again. Only take a minute, she's at the employee entrance talking to Meg. Or more accurately, flirting with Meg.

“Dean-o, thanks for extending the invite.”

Biting back a sigh, Dean nods, “Well, you'd be there anyway, right?”

“Sure would, but now I think I'm going to enjoy it.”

But Charlie's smiling, can't argue that. He smells a rebound in the air. Atta girl.

Chapter Text

Each thud sends reverberations up Castiel's fingers and palm, shivering beautifully along his nerves. Again landing on dense muscle, the sound of wood meeting flesh is mouthwatering, heightened by the faint grunts rising from his pet. His own muscles itch for more, to keep moving, but only three more strokes are necessary for this punishment. Oh, but he wants.

Palming a red cheek and admiring the patterning, he hums for a moment, “You took that very well, darling.”

Benny's voice is cracked and raw as he mangles a thank you. 

“Mmm, you're quite welcome.” Giving each welt a quick but careful scan, he's certain skin has not been broken. Unable to resist feeling them for himself, Cas traces a hexagon along Benny’s flank, “Though you do look rather lovely like this. Up, baby, I want you to see.”

With a substantial portion of Benny's weight on his arm, the Angel leads them to the trip of adjustable mirrors. The big man drops to his knees on the padded stool, breath still heaving that thick chest. With a few well-practiced adjustments, the mirrors are arranged to see every delicious angle. Seeing themselves marked up, gagged, bound, tear-stained, cum-soaked, few pets can withstand the sight of their own bodies mid-scene. It's one of Cas’ favorite tactics for superb training.

Benny is a different breed. More than comfortable in his own skin, surely used to his body being on display both from his previous career and the current exhibitions and courses. Though he kneels obediently, there is no sign of quivering lips or detachment, this man’s cheeks flush beneath his beard and that is sheer arousal.

Having expected resistance since their first session, it's a nice surprise to see this beast submitting to him without losing that innate strength. And equally as satisfying to bestow punishment when this bear of a pet commits an infraction. 

“Look how pretty Daddy made your ass,” Cas pats across a bloom of red welts with an open palm.

Oh, there's a faint tremble but Benny doesn't shy from the discomfort. That ridiculously enthralling drawl fogs out, “Thank you, Daddy. Looks really… fucking pretty.”

“Hmm, I think so, too.” Ever critical of himself, Cas follows the maze again… and is satisfied to see that none of the lines crossed or are blurred. Countless hours of disciplining a multitude of pets have honed his impact skills to pure art. He's a man who truly enjoys his craft. 

Standing behind the man and offering soothing pats through his short hair, Cas just observes. He is again distracted by other thoughts, speculations and internal questions that invade his mind too often lately. Frustrating, certainly, he is a being of incredible control and focus. And yet… this man and his sublime partner are devastating his foundation. Even like this, knelt nude and bearing the marks of his misbehavior, Benny is powerful. That should not be alluring, it certainly never has been; Cas prefers his subs pliant, obedient without thought, all-but empty vessels for him to use and fill at his whim. But this one… yanking Benny back by his hair, Cas rubs a hand down bulging pecs, dragging his nails. A deep moan rumbles and Cas sees that fat cock kicking furiously, staved by a studded ring digging into the base. Oh, here comes the gasp of pain as that cock is abraded by the velcro-esque sleeve, every pulse and kick met with wrap-around over-stimulation. Perfect.

“Now, I'm assuming my good boy has learned his lesson.”

“Yeah, I,” another scratch brings another groan, “I won't drop any more balls, promise.”

“I believe you, sweetheart. And I can help you, would you like that?”

“Please, Daddy.”

“Of course. Bend over, baby.”

Gathering a few items, Cas is right back and rubbing at Benny's dripping rim. Even more lube is added, his fingers expertly nudging the gape, “Now look at this, I think your hole wants more.”

Benny’s hips tilt, spreading wider, “More, everything.”

Pleased, Cas rolls another heavy magnetic ball in his palm to slick it, then nudges it against the pucker. “Oh, that's beautiful, you're swallowing this in one gulp.” Fingers follow, rolling the ball deeper, leaving room for, “This hole is still hungry, one more.” This one is left just inside, enough weight that when Benny's upright, the ball will incessantly press against his prostate and threaten to bulge out his ever-slacker rim. Wonderful. 

“Up,” Cas draws the flushed beast up with him. Watching Benny's face for any sign of true pain, he again becomes distracted. Squashing an utterly ridiculous urge and turning away, Cas motions to the balance beams. Well, footholds is more apt, but the term paints a picture. “Tell me.what you want, darling.”

“Want, fuck, wanna prove how much I want your cock, Daddy.”

“That sounds very thoughtful. How?”

“Anything, I'll behave n’ do anything.”

“I gladly accept.”

Instructions are followed but not blindly, no, Benny has an iron core but has chosen to submit. Which goes straight to Castiel's enflamed ego, fueling that ever-present need to wield dominance over every beautiful creature. And this is a beautiful scene; Benny’s feet are planted on the narrow padded blocks, spread to shoulder width while his arms are stretched high. Not bound but for his own commitment to giving himself over, Benny’s fingers are looped through a hanging steel hoop, balancing precariously. Now the man must focus on what he wants most, be that balancing to stay upright, or focusing on clenching his hole to keep four weighted balls from crowning.

Giving in to a demanding urge, Cas rubs across Benny's belly, tracing the lines of sculpted muscle and sinew. Such form surely took years of consistent dedication to fitness and health, building this powerful body. That's all it is, appreciation for strength of character and will. And he does not have another urge whispering to lick across that belly, taste the sheen of sweat beaded so enticingly. No, that is not something the Angel does.

Redirecting his own mental process, he notes, “You look parched, darling.”

“Yeah, please, Daddy.”

“Hang tight, baby, I’ll bring you something special.” As Cas heads to the door, he can feel the inaudible curses surely aimed at his skull, ha. Taking his time, Castiel decides to take a shower, letting the hot water soothe his tense neck. He ponders whether to redress; he prefers to be fully dressed when in-scene, his pets must earn the privilege of seeing him. Yet… he wants Benny's eyes on him and for all that's holy, he wants Benny's ass. Fuck.

A quick scroll of his phone shows several check-ins from Meg; nothing unexpected, no red-tier moments, all is good, Dean is safe. Which has even more tension dissipating from his neck. Now, to focus. Downing his own glass of water, he brings a tumbler of juice back to the playroom. His pet is trembling ever so finely but still maintaining his pose. Placing the straw between Benny's lips, he waits until the sweet thing finishes, just murmuring praise. 

Hands free now, he spreads Benny’s taut cheeks, “Mmm, look at that,” nudging the slight curve of the lowest ball. “You're doing so well, baby.”

A broken thank you has Cas grinning. Circling to his front again, Cas holds out a hand, “I'm very proud of you. Hold on to me and step down.”

Feet on the floor mat now, Benny wobbles for a moment but quickly gathers himself. Ah, his sky blue eyes widened, “Hot damn!”

Pleased but arching a brow, “Hmm?”

“You're damn fine.”

“Why, thank you, sweetheart,” that felt better than a simple compliment should. “Let go.”

Benny blinks and pulls his hand back from Cas’ arm.

“Apologies, darling,” he grabs both of Benny's wrists, bracing them on Cas’ shoulders, “I was referring to your hole. We're done playing with these toys, let go.”

The anticipated panic isn't visible on Benny's face, none of the gulping or lip biting that accompanies any fully-reversed command. Rather, Benny curses quietly and holds eye contact. A muffled thud is heard as all four balls slip from this pet’s surely-exhausted rim and to the mats. The big man drops his head to Cas’ shoulder, sheer relief in his breaths.

Ignoring the warning klaxon in his mind, Cas cups Benny's neck, rubbing soothingly. “How do you feel, darling?”

“Like going six rounds with a feral ghoul.”

Caught by surprise, Cas laughs into Benny's hair, “What an image.” And locks down every muscle and fiber in his body, forcing himself to immobility when Benny’s beard drags at his neck. 

That silky voice is a breath from Cas’ ear and felt to his toes and back, “You're wrecking me, Daddy.”

Castiel shoves words through clenched teeth, “Just wait.” Never has he questioned his own desires, always certain of what he wanted and needed. Now his core principles have been tossed into the air, his internal compass is spinning as polar north shifts closer to the equator. He needs more from this enticing man. “You've done so well with your training, Benny. Wonderful behavior earns rewards.”

Benny leans back, lips parted so slightly as he waits.

“This good boy is going to take Daddy's cock.”

“Fuck,” blatant desire courses Benny's face. It's stronger than the desperation or pliancy Cas is used to and… it's invigorating. 

“Exactly. On the bed.” He watches the thick beast kneel in the center of the large mattress. The very infrequently used mattress; he prefers his pets bound to any of the various furniture or simply chained in place. Yet he wants this, here, now, and refuses to question himself again. 

Stopping at the edge of the bed and raising a single eyebrow, it's enough, Benny moves right to lap at his cock. This mouth is much more skilled than the fighter had purported, so determined to please the Angel and get another taste. Which Cas is fucking happy to give him. Benny suckles and licks, lips spreading to take more. It would be so easy and satisfying to fuck Benny’s throat, painting him yet again, but…

He tugs Benny up, sliding a finger between wet and puffy lips, pleased when his pet suckles on it. His other hand reaches for one of the strategically placed bottles of lube, pumping a fairly generous dollop. As he strikes his own cock, hand slipping around the massive thing, everything heats when Benny shudders while turning his back. Flames of desire rage in his own chest, all-but ready to shoot flames from his throat when he finally has Benny’s ass spread before him. 

“So empty, baby, I know what you need,” and rubs his crown against that glistening hole. He is not slow but he is careful, steadily pushing in and biting back a growl when warmth envelopes his cock. Inch by inch is fed into Benny's ass, watching as more of his cock disappears, lovely groans rising. “You're taking me so well, Benny, spreading for Daddy.

The mountain of a man drops his head to the mattress, arching and offering. 

Castiel takes. 

Snapping his hips and meeting the firmness of Benny, driving deeper until nearly his entire cock is buried. Here he pauses to rein in his near-frenzy, nebulous control slipping away as he grasps for it. But the pause gives Benny precious time to regulate his own breathing and relax slightly. Fuck, Castiel must focus.

Again tracing the honeycomb patterned welts, Cas forces himself to follow the normal rhythm. Dropping growled praise as the grip around his cock relaxes further, his own balls are tight as he bottoms out. 

Now is when he should remind his pet to focus on staying still for him, usually with a silent laugh for himself because his sub’s are always bound in place. Not this time. He wants something else and the image behind his eyes has his cock immensely interested. Fuck it.

Gripping Benny's hip and slapping a hand across the decorated cheek, Cas snarls, “Move!”

Benny does, bucking back, ass pulling and dragging and so very warm. 

It's different and an enormous part of Cas’ mind is bellowing for him to enforce discipline, to withhold his cock, to not deviate from the script. But holy hell this feels incredible. And he wants to touch. Grabbing, scratching, kneading, he can't get enough, finally throwing all standards out the window and hauling Benny up. Powerful back against Cas’ shoulders, he reaches around to fervently explore nearly every inch of this incredible man. 

An arm reaches back, a hand knotting in Cas’ hair, yanking his closer. It's another first and fuck if Cas doesn't love how this feels. Hammering hard and deep on every thrust, he's awash with sensation, thrilled by the broken sounds coming from Benny's lips. But they can get louder. Zero hesitation again, Cas gives a couple flicks of wrist and unzips the abrasive cocksleeve, unsnaps the ball corset. Oh yes, Benny’s body seizes, fingers nearly tearing hair from Cas' scalp, mangled words rasped out. 

So close, there's no stopping, Cas grips Benny's fat cock and strokes, “Cum for me, baby, cum with me!”

Benny throws his head back again, chin tilted up as he moans.

Cas wants to feel those sounds, his own beast is loose and leaping at every desire crossing his fevered mind. He latches onto Benny’s neck, teeth nipping tight and lips sealing to suck right there. A fireball erupts behind his eyes, his orgasm stealing his breath, immolating everything but unbelievably potent touch. Muscle memory keeps his hips moving, rocking as he pours cum deep inside Benny’s magnificent body. And his fingers tingle, soaked in hot cum and rubbing it back onto Benny's throbbing cock. 

Celerity returns and a bucket of ice water would be less startling. He lost control, deviated from the plan, broke his own rules. And just had the most intense orgasms of his life. Cas is so fucked.

Chapter Text

Feeling punch-drunk and high as hell, sprawled on his back with eyes trying to sort out which way’s up, Benny is blissed the fuck out. If asked, he'd be hard pressed to determine which bit has him the most stupefied. Whichever it is, he's feeling amazing.

His neck is suddenly supported and lifted a bit, “Here, darling, sip.”

That would be a straw tapping against his lips. It's wild how pampered this makes him feel. Oh, sure, he's been on the other end of that cup thousands of times, always been the caretaker. This side, well, he fully gets just how sweet it feels. 

“On your belly, let me check you.”

Big hands help him roll over and this is comfy, too. Those same strong hands are so light over his back and ass, the Angel checking his handiwork – ha, that's a Deanism right there. All goofy humor disappears from Benny’s skull and takes every thought along with it when a finger traces his hole.

“So beautiful, Benny, you're just,” the rest is the best kind of muffled ‘cause that mouth is busy.

Knowing just what Cas must be seeing and tasting and touching, Benny’s eyes roll back. The sight of his own cum dripping from his partner, leaking from Dean, it always drives Benny wild. Needs to feel it and get a lick in. But from this Angel it's unexpected. Sure, the guy had swiped many a finger through the dribbles on Benny's face and across his body, but never put that mouth on him. Yet there that tongue is, circling his rim, pressing in so far, fingers kneading into his thighs. No wonder Dean gets the shivers like this, it's stroking something wild in Benny's chest.

And this would be near-trembling now ‘cause that mouth ain't stopping. Nope, this beast is roaming up Benny's back, tongue trailing here and there, just burning him alive. But the time those lips reach his neck, Benny can feel every hair on his body, it's all standing on end in the best way.

“Hmph, after I bathe you, this will need to be iced.”

Blinking blearily and trying to catch up, Benny manages a, “What's that?”

“Here,” a molten finger presses against a tender spot, “I don't want this to bruise.”

Okay, he can at least laugh a bit, “Of the million spots on my body achin’, that's the second best one.”

But there's a huff and clipped tone now, “The lovely artwork was agreed to, Benny. This was not. I sincerely apologize. After you've rested, we must talk.”

Rolling over and bracing on his elbows, Benny watches the pretty Angel. Oh, those big eyes are guarded and wet jaw tense. Alright, Benny’s used to being the one to drive a conversation, better to get the words out and leave fretting be. “Let's talk now.”

“You should–.”

“I'm good, swear it. Oh my head’s still spinning, but I'm pretty sure it’s ‘cause you fucked me so far outta my body, it's a new year.”

A tiny twitch lifts one corner of Cas’ thick lips, “Alright. But while we bathe.”

Now, Benny's a big, strong man. Even after retiring from the ring, he keeps on true fighting form. Yet his legs are feeling weak when Cas pulls him to his feet. This man must have tungsten muscles in those wicked thighs, ‘cause he's steady and doesn't falter once as they walk. In the adjoined bathroom, Cas moves towards the deep tub which isn't gonna work for Benny.

“If I get in there, I'm not moving for a good couple hours.”

Damn if those big eyes don't roll, “Dramatic?”

“Just fair warning.”

By the time Benny takes a long piss, steam’s filling the large room. The walk-in shower has more heads than a hydra, warm water raining down and blasting from the sides. What feels even better is a set of those big hands guiding him to turn as they suds him up. Oh the stripes on his backside and down his chest sting a bit; Benny welcomes the sensations. Washed and rinsed, he feels relaxed and sharp at the same time, and… his fingers are itching. He knows it's Cas’ process and all, been there a million times, but Benny needs something different. 

When Cas motions him to lean against the marble, Benny shakes his head, “Gotta let me, man.”

“Ah, what?”

Plucking the soft cloth from bronze fingers, he pumps more body wash into it. And he just goes for it, rubbing the sudsy wash cloth across Cas’ chest. 

Cas does that squint, “This is unnecessary, Benny.”

“Maybe for you. I need it.”

Little else is said, just murmurs when Benny wants Cas to lift an arm or leg. When Benny reaches his back, anyway, then he's tongue-tied for a hot minute. 

“A true Angel,” Benny whispers while using the corner of the soapy cloth to trace intricate ink. Long black feathers sprout from tawny shoulder blades, trailing down Cas’ back, ass and upper thighs. “Man, you are unreal.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Oh, it is… damn, Cas, you're a sight.”

He hears a low hum, the one that's less contemplative or filler; hell if Benny had to name it, he'd call it confused. But this beast relaxes a bit, visibly less tense while Benny gives his own dose of appreciation and care. Even as he carefully cleans up that enormous cock, there's a soft tilt to Cas’ thick lips. Until Benny reaches this angel cake right here, then the big guy is stepping away 

More than. All-but half-leaps under the waterfall shower head, grumbling, “Thank you, that was very kind.”

“What's wrong?”

Those big eyes are on him, this guy could win any staring contest, but they’re guarded. 

So Benny does what always works with friends, family and his partner, he stares back and waits it out.

Finally there's a huff, “I’m capable of bathing myself.”

Huh. “So am I and we both know that ain't the problem.”

“Responsibilities dictate–.”

“As they should. But we're not in a scene, Cas, and this isn't aftercare.”

Again a long silence descends, only punctuated by the water cascading around them as Cas finishes his own scrub down.

“I'm unused to such intimacies,” Cas’ voice is as tight as his jaw. 

“Hmm,” that sounds closer to the truth, but not the whole thing. “You were upfront about a lot of things when we came to terms. Roles, expectations, responsibilities.”

“Yes, transparency is important,” another Dean-worthy huff has Cas’ sexy chest growing, “crossed the line tonight. It won't happen again.”

Ah, there it is again, the whole truth is winking from just around the corner. Benny can work with this. “Now, I'm racking my brain but can't find one instance of anything on the hard no’s list happening.”

“My list.”

“Oh?”

Cas shuts off the water and moves methodically, snagging a hanging towel and getting right to rubbing Benny dry. But…

Benny's snags both wrists, holding the intense guy still until those eyes are on him, “Talk to me.”

“The scene didn't go as I had planned.”

A breathless laugh climbs out of Benny's throat, “I expected amazing and intense, man, but that was earthshaking.”

Oh yeah, there's a tiny flicker of something soft and happy, but hidden under stone again. “My control weakens around you. It shouldn't, I don't allow myself to be like that.”

“Why not?”

“What?”

“If you want something, what's so wrong?”

“Because… because that's not how this works.” Cas yanks away and huffs with each run of the towel, “My behavior was unprofessional.”

“Uh huh, says you. Cas, you should let yourself have more.”

Now the Angel whirls away to dry himself, chewing on bricks or something while that jaw creaks. 

Okay. Benny parks himself on the dressing bench and waits again.

Less time between now, Cas mumbles, “I'm confused.”

“Alright.”

“There are things I've never cared for or wanted.”

A thud is felt deep in Benny's chest, a warm sucker punch and it feels so good. “Sure, everyone's got some.”

“Yes. But now,” the frazzled slab of granite tosses his towel away and paces the bathroom. Feet slap on the smooth floor, that huge cock swinging like a pendulum, tattoos seeming to ripple with every motion. When he suddenly turns and looms just out of arm's reach, it's like coming face-to-face with a hurricane that pauses to shout at you. Wild. “I've never had these urges before. I knew that our relationship would be a challenge. You're every bit as powerful no matter if you're championing the ring or operating a business or on your knees for me.”

A smirk rises, Benny can't help it.

“Cheeky,” Cas’ eyes narrow for a moment before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fuck! I don't understand my own urges right now.”

Skin humming with the whirl of emotions radiating from this seething Angel, Benny has to ask, “What do you want? Honestly.”

The gulp is audible and visible, “I want more. More feeling and tasting you. To see and hear you lost in pleasure I bring you.”

“Those are some real good things.”

“No, they're… I don't do that, I don't need that.”

“Intimacy?”

Yeah, a shudder runs through that wicked body, a moment and gone. But the turmoil is showing in those big eyes and tone, “Yes.”

“But you do now.”

“Yes.”

That felt a whole lot of something. Damn. “Told my boy this the other day, desires change. That's not a bad thing.”

Cas licks his lips, hedging, but he comes through, “Did… has this happened to you?”

Chuckling now, Benny rubs at his own neck, “More times than I can count. Might be strange or borderline scary when the mind, heart and body are on different pages.”

“How have you handled such, ah, discord?”

“Introspection, talking things out, just giving it a damn try, any and all. Not everything ends up in the goody pile, but I'd always rather give something a shot than fight myself.”

“That's a refreshing view,” Cas has a small smile. “I make plans and do not deviate from them.”

“Always,” and this might be foolhardy or just what the pretty Angel needs, “until when?”

Silence. Then, “You know when.”

“Mmhmm, I do.” Thrilled and edging closer to what must be a revelation, Benny gets to his feet, close but not crowding Cas, “And now?”

“Upheaval.”

“Where does that leave us?”

Ocean eyes swirl around the maelstroms as those pupils are blown wide, “I'm unsure. The objective thing should be to wean off of this relationship. A sharp, sudden break could be detrimental at this stage.”

“Hmph, objectively.”

“Yes. If either party is unable to abide by the set boundaries.”

“See, the thing is, you never said anything about intimacy being off the board. And I assumed you were just holding out on me, making me work double for a taste.”

“Ah,” black lashes blink several times, “it was implied.”

Of all things… “What else was implied?”

“Nothing. It was my error alone, I apologize.”

“Not asking for a sorry, Cas. Since we both now know what you think we should do, how about saying what you want to do?”

For about the 11th time the Angel glances at Benny's neck. Oh. At that sore spot where some soft lips had branded him. Fuck. “I want to explore this new flux. Though that would be unwise.”

“Can't handle another challenge?”

Oh, that ruffled the Angel’s feathers, “There's a difference between inability and wise risk assessment. I can become rather intense when my interest is piqued, I don't know my own capabilities.”

“Only one way to find out.”

There's a long, loaded silence filled with bright blue eyes blazing into Benny. Finally Cas lifts his chin and seems to settle, “Benny, are you amenable to expanding the parameters of our arrangement?”

“Yeah, Blue, been waiting for you.”

Nostrils flare and that jaw just grinds for a second, “You push me.”

“Everyone needs a good nudge now n’ then,” Benny can't help it. 

“And a certain one needs a paddling,” that would be a near-snarl and so damn hot. Then it washes away and Cas is all practicality, “Not tonight, your body is wonderfully marked.”

As the heat lightens and they both settle back a bit, Benny scrubs his beard, “Sure is. Gotta say I'm a fan of how these look,” eyeing himself in the mirror.

Cas nods and leads out fo the bathroom, “I find the process and results incredibly satisfying.”

“Hmph, I bet. Damn, how d'you keep the lines so clear?”

“Similar to your knotwork, extensive practice and superb tools.”

“It shows. Mmm, I'd love to see my boy marked up like this. Pure honey dripping outta these honeycombs.”

The big guy pauses in collecting Benny's clothes, motionless for an instant, “He would be a superb canvas. You're welcome to borrow that paddle. Or any others.”

“Might just take you up on that some time. Though I'll probably make a mess of it, I sure don't have your finesse.”

“Everything can be learned.”

Stepping into his jeans, “Yeah? Deal.”

Cas blinks and stares, “What did we agree to?”

Chuckling now, Benny’s getting a kick outta this beast thrown off his game, “You know exactly what it is.”

There's a huff, “I'm going to redress,” and that sexy ass strides right out the door. Wild thing.

Benny's pouring himself some bourbon when Cas appears and damn, he looks good in jeans and a polo. Handing a second glass over, Benny scrolls his phone, sweet relief abating the constant worry in his chest. “Sounds like Thing 1 and Thing 2 had a fun night.”

“Meg confirmed there were no incidents while out, and the three are currently at your home.”

“Can't tell you how much I appreciate that, Cas.”

“Nor do you have to, Benny. I understand. Now, what would you like to eat?”

“Oh, I'm good ‘til I get home. Those two always end a night with pizza and video games.”

There's that small smile on Cas’ lips again, “They seem to be great friends.”

“Mmhmm, one alone is a handful. Together it's like herding cats on an inflatable raft, down a white river during a thunderstorm.”

A full laugh from Cas now, shaking that pretty head as he tosses back his drink. “Chaotical creatures. Ready?”

“Yeah, but I can order a ride back.”

Cas is monotone now, “That doesn't warrant a response. Let's go.”

A short and smooth ride later, the driver parks next to a duplicate SUV in Benny and Dean's driveway. Benny’s expecting a goodbye now but the Angel is already out the door and circling the SUV to… open Benny's door. Huh. One thing when blitzed out of his mind, another when they've been out-of-scene so long already. No complaints here, though, Benny’s feeling good while climbing out of the truck and escorted right up the pathway to the door. So, he keeps it rolling, opening the door before Cas can do more than open his mouth and ushering the guy in. 

Taking a deep inhale and catching some wonderful scents, Benny grins and shouts, “Boy!”

A cacophony of mingled shouts carry up from the basement.

Benny nods towards the stairs, “$20 says it's gonna be a mess down there.”

Cas just arches a brow and follows.

Yup, Benny was right. The whole lower level is for entertainment of every kind. Got their home band set up in a far corner, a long cedar bar from the old club location against a wall with stools, Dean's pole in the center of the basement circled by lounge chairs and a chaise. And here is the Dean Cave; a LoveSac sofa with built-in speakers, leather recliners, bean bags holding the rowdy duo, every console game imaginable and Dean's beloved 98” TV. All and good, but the mess is from the snickering kids. Popcorn is ground into the rugs, pretzels are scattered across a table, more unrecognizable bits everywhere, and something wet is definitely pooling around the open pizza boxes on the coffee table. Here's hoping it's just soda and not grease.

Because he can, Benny pushes some gruffness into his tone, “What the hell happened?”

Meg shakes her head from the sofa, “I'm a babysitter, not a maid.”

“A restoration service may be needed,” Cas toes at a cup on the floor.

Which has Dean tensing and whipping his gorgeous head around, eyes big on the Angel. He whips right back to the TV and gives that near-squirm that could be seen a mile away, “First rule of Dean Cave is you don't complain about Dean Cave.”

“And,” Charlie gives a couple hoots and punches at her controller, “eat that, bitches!”

Dean groans and drops his controller, “You were camping!”

“No, I was strategizing and won 3 outta 5. Deanie weanie, is someone gonna cry?

“4 outta 7, let's go.”

“Nope,” the lanky bundle of craziness hops to her feet, “Yowza! Is this relaxed Cas? I'm digging this vibe.”

The big guy just smiles, “You're a peculiar person.”

“Yup! I really, really want to stay and get you to spill all your secrets, but my kitty’s hungry.”

Sure, Dean snickers and Cas tilts his head, so Benny throws a bone, “Actual cat.”

“Ah. Well, one should never allow a pet to go hungry,” this guy. “I can offer you a ride home, Charlie.”

“It's alright, boss, I've got her.” And from that smirk, Meg is more than happy for it. 

Moving to hold a hand for his partner, Benny boosts Dean’s fine self up, snagging a kiss, “Clean up first.”

“Or,” Dean slinks closer, running fingers up Benny's chest and batting his long lashes over red rimmed eyes, “leave it for later n’ me n’ you have our own party. Can make a real mess.”

“Tempting, doll, but that's a no.”

Dean pouts, “Charlie did most of it.”

“Uh huh, which is why she's got popcorn in her hair.”

The redhead ran fingers into her mop, plucked out a poof and pooped it into her mouth, “I was saving that for later. Ugh, okay, c'mon, Dean.”

While Frick n’ Frack grab the sweeper and cleaning products, Benny moves the pizza boxes out of the puddle – it's sticky soda – to the bar. Peaking in, he nods to Cas, “Want some?”

Big Blue eyes the junk food, “I haven't eaten pizza in… many years.”

“What?!” That bellow came from Dean, his jaw hanging.

Cas tilts his chin, “I'm selective with my diet.”

“Yeah, me, too,” and here comes a 6’1” barefoot and offended beauty. “One thing is always worth the carb overload: pizza.”

“Not in my experience.”

“Blasphemy!”

Opting to stand rather than sit ‘cause lord his ass is tender, Benny snags bottles of iced tea from the bar fridge and watches what's sure to be a show.

“I hardly equate saucy dough as sacred.”

“Heathen.”

“Honest.”

“Eating all those scones must've driven your taste buds to,” Dean drags a finger across his throat.

“Mmm, no, I have a refined palate.”

“Yeah? What's top notch in Lord Castiel’s opinion?”

“Meat.”

Yup, the boy gulped, fingers clenched around the bottle of Windex.

Benny intervenes for the hell of it, “Speaking of, why're the pies bare?”

The Demoness cheekily offers, “Because it's summer camp in Vegas tonight and food fights happen like that,” snapping her fingers.

“A holy food and yet used as,” Cas flicks at slice of pepperoni stuck to a stool back, “a projectile.”

Which has Dean flushing and shuffling on his big feet, “It's versatile, covers man’s every need.” And at the giggling from the other half of crazy wielding the vacuum, Dean's quick to add, “Not like that! Or maybe, I mean, someone probably did.”

“We've had a change of venue, this is now band camp,” which earns Meg some flirty cooing from Charlie. 

Somehow the pair get the room cleaned up and Charlie suffocates them all with hugs. Sure, Benny’s used to it and more than happy to squeeze her back. What's wild is how she leaps at Cas and just spiders skinny arms around, rocking around a shocked statue. Eyes widen cartoonishly and the big guy cautiously and awkwardly pats Charlie’s shoulder like there, there. He still looks flabbergasted as the women and Dean race up the stairs.

“You alright there, chief?”

“I'm sincerely uncertain.”

Letting out a laugh, Benny slides a beer across the bar, “Something's just happen, roll with it. Gonna eat?”

“No, thank you,” Cas glances at the stairway, “I can't risk losing another point.”

“Ha! How about something else?”

“No, I… actually, I am hungry.”

“Alright, c'mon,” Benny grabs his beer and the boxes, heads up to the kitchen. Stuffing the pizza in the fridge, he pokes around and offers options. He's sliding a tray of Jesse’s seven-pepper rubbed ribs into the air fryer when his man floats into the room. “Boy, you're lookin’ like Pepe Le Pew following that nose.”

Dean hops his fine ass onto the island and grins, “Hey, the guy had good taste, had to shoot his shot.”

“Sure did. C'mere, baby,” Benny needs another taste. Pleased as hell when his partner loops arms around his neck and offers up those soft lips, always perfect. “Howsnshe doin’?”

“Awesome! Only cried once.”

“From the look of things, she's got an eye on someone new.”

“Dude, it's crazy right?”

“Nah, she's got a type even if she doesn't like to admit it.”

Dean nods his chin to Cas, “We’re about to be coparents.”

Cas gives a small chuckle, “I'm pretty sure that's not how it works. But if they're both happy,” he lifts his bottle in silent cheer.

“Hell yeah. Papa, you making some for me?”

Those big, pleasing emeralds always have Benny's heart throbbing, never can resist them. But he sure can tease, “Guess you shoulda eaten your munchies instead of throwing ‘em.”

“I'm theatrical.”

“You're dramatic.”

“But you love me.”

“To the stars, darlin'.” Keeping his hands busy arranging side dishes is the only way to keep from getting frisky with Dean. He needs to keep hold of himself for now, he's pretty damn sure the Angel’s going to shake things up a bit.

Dean recounts the night’s adventure while puffing on his PAX. The antics and the weed have his laugh ranging from giggles to husky and back, always a fun ride with this man. His eyes watch from under heavy lids as Cas sets the table and those are a lot of surreptitious looks right back. When Dean takes a long draw from his vape and tugs Benny close to shotgun the smoke, Benny doesn't even have to look to know Cas is staring. And he's dead certain that's why Dean did it a second time.

Every bit of the food gets praise from Cas, though Dean scoffs when the glazed carrots are deemed delicacies. But it's more playful than antagonistic, a more than welcome change. Which only lasts until the food is gone and Cas squares those broad shoulders.

“Dean.”

Benny pats Dean's back, helping clear whatever has the man coughing. Probably choked on his tongue again, ha.

“I must inform you that I crossed boundaries with Benny earlier tonight. We have discussed the matter and reached a resolution. Our relationship will continue with a new understanding on my part. As you are committed partners, I will respect any concerns you have.”

Well.

Dean had bristled at the first sentence, tense eyes flicking between Benny and Cas. Then he grabs Benny's shirt, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Swear it, cher. It's nothing I didn't want, Blue here just had some internal boundaries he forgot to mention.”

But Dean's got some heat in his voice, “Meaning what?”

“I touched–.”

Before Cas’ formal recount riles Dean up even more, Benny slides in and gives a much simpler rendition.

Sure enough, Dean just blinks and sits back, “Oh. Seriously?”

Cas nods tersely.

“So, what, you're upset about being into Benny?”

“No, it's–.”

“‘Cause this guy is hot as fuck! Got this Herculean body, face so pretty I wanna lick him like an ice cream cone, voice like–.”

Benny takes the lips he loves, “Baby, you make me feel so good.”

“Love you. But it's all true. So what’s the problem? Think you're too good?”

Cas squints again, “Not at all. Of course I'm attaracted to Benny. I'm unused to additional physical contact beyond dictated scenes.”

Dean has his contemplative face on, “Huh. Stone cold, I called that the other night.”

“I do feel, Dean.”

“What he's saying,” tugging Dean's chin until their eyes meet, “is he's interested in exploring within his own comfort zone. Can't fault anyone for that, babe.”

There's a huff and nod, “Yeah. Just weird ‘cause who could resist this,” and Dean arches close to lick right in. It's a pointed kiss for sure, the beauty suckling and teasing, working fingers behind Benny’s neck. 

Tugging Dean back for a second, then diving to take another taste, Benny’s feeling damn adored, “Pure fire, babyboy.”

“Same, stud.” Those cheeks are flushed an even prettier rose gold now, Dean giving his head a shake and pulling up a wide grin before getting up and grabbing plates. 

Cas clears his throat several times, finally chugging his beer which doesn't go unnoticed. “I take it you're comfortable with the, ah…”

Dean calls over his shoulder, “I wasn't exactly expecting you to only be giving Benny your cock. Any dude can do that. Well, not any, ‘cauae I'd have a problem with that.” There's a puff, the boy’s hitting his PAX again, then, “He chose you.”

Which has sapphires blazing across the table into Benny's skull for a flaming second, “Thank you both. And thank you for dinner, this was nice.”

“Yeah, it was,” Benny follows Cas up. “Those ribs are something, right?”

A few more minutes of chatting and Cas is inching towards the door. There's some internal conflict happening in Benny's mind right now; he knows the guy needs space and Dean sure needs some focused attention, but for all that's wild in this life, Benny wants Cas to stay. That's too much for the moment, it must be.

“If you need anything, call me.” That's the standard Castiel Novak parting message.

Smiling back, Benny nods, “Sure will.” But the second he sees Cas’ arm move, he can't bite his tongue, “You try n’ shake my hand, we're gonna fight.”

There's a laugh from the side, that'd be Dean leaning a hip against the wall, arms folded, watching them.

Cas rolls his eyes, “It is still a standard parting gesture.”

Dean laughs again and Benny shakes his head, “I'm not standard.*

“No, no, you're not.” Those sapphires dance around but that strong chin lifts, Cas moving closer until they're pauses an inch from one another. 

Then thick lips brush over Benny’s, firm pillows holding back some simmering ferocity. It's new and potent, going right to Benny’s everything, he wants more of that sparking energy. Pressing to deepen the kiss, he’s intensely pleased when Cas rises to he challenge. Teeth nip at his lower lip, Benny’s eyes rolling back as he moans, always loving a good bite. Doesn't last long but this is gonna leave a permanent impression.

Cas steps back, eyes wild and looking all dragon. He cards his hair, lips parting like he's gonna say something, but zips them when looking over at Dean. A galnce over and yeah, Benny knows why Cas is grinding his teeth: Dean's chest is heaving, face pink and covered in blatant lust. Fucking gorgeous.

The Angel burns them both with blue flames, “Good night.”

“‘Night, Cas.”

Dean mumbles something missed Benny's ears but has Cas looking again. Then the guy’s gone, the door closing right behind him. Crazy how Bennys fingers itch to pull it back open and yank the Angel back inside.

“Benny.”

Dragging his eyes away, he watches Dean slink over, “You okay?”

Dean nods, eyes locked on Benny’s lips, “That was freaking hot.”

Thrilled and heated, Benny can only agree, “Felt it in my toes.”

“Was… fuck,” fingers dig into Benny’s hair and beard and a slick tongue laps right across Benny's lips. Dean moans and it's filthy, “I can taste him.”

Fuck.

Flicking the dead bolts on the door with one hand, he fills the other with Dean's ass, “Like that, huh?”

This sexy thing just sucks on his lips now, “Dunno why but, holy shit!”

“Oh I know why,” he hikes Dean up by his slim hips, bowed legs curling right around his waist. Heading straight to the stairs, it's a welcome struggle to get words out as Dean frenzies around him, “And I'm gonna make you say it.”

Chapter Text

Licking along another hexagon and creating his own pattern out of the red lines, Dean just can't stop, he marvels at what he sees. His own body has always been the canvas, while Benny’s sexy self holding the swoon-worthy tattoo and just scars from his kinda badass days in (and out) of the ring. Well, except for the new ring in his cock which gets Dean heated every time he sees it. Point being, as he places kisses within every third honeycomb, seeing his partner decorated is new and freaking fire. 

Scooting lower, he follows the pattern across Benny’s fine ass. And he wants more. Biting his lip for a second while psyching himself up, Dean goes for it. Kneading into what's gotta feel hot and achy, he spreads Benny’s cheeks, holding his breath when Benny sighs but hears no objections. Fuck, look at that.

“He didn't plug you.”

Benny grunts in the negative.

“Sore?”

“Dunno, how about you check?”

Sure, Dean may have cried through an orgasm not 10 minutes ago, but his cock has a mind of its own and gives a weak salute. Lunging to the side table for water, he gulps to soothe the scratchiness from screaming his lungs out while being all-but fucked through a wall and then their bed. Tongue nice and wet now, just lapping across Benny's puffy rim, it's so soft and just gives. Oh yeah, this is good, he tucks in to bury his tongue while fighting the urge to scratch along Benny’s welts.

Words are muffled by a pillow but clear enough, “Love that mouth, babyboy.”

Praise always gets him moving, extra oomph put right into slurping Benny's hole. Pushing his tongue deeper, deeper, until it aches from straining so hard, a frenzy is waking back up. Fuck, he knows why. Panting against Benny's thigh for a second, he gathers his courage, “Papa?”

“Mmhmm, say it.”

“Fuck. I wanna taste him in you.”

“Gonna clean me up?”

Now Dean's whimpering ‘cause yeah, he wants that. And… “Maybe I wanna help mess you up, too.”

“Tell me, cher.”

This is Benny, he can say anything and be safe, loved, this is pure. Still some words are freaking hard to get out. “After he fucks you, I need to feel that,” circling a finger over Benny's slack rim, “Wanna fuck your ass right through his cum. Then lick it all out.”

Muscles are bunched and he knows that motion, Benny’s getting riled up. Head lifted and looking over his shoulder, Benny’s so gorgeous, “You do that, baby, and we're marking a new official holiday.”

“A holey-day.” Which earned him a chuckle, that soft, warm fog of sound rolling right around, emboldening Dean, “Maybe some other stuff, too.”

“Anything you want.”

Nerves rise and throw some punches, but he was trained by a badass and gets a win by TKO. “What if we let him, um, touch me?”

Benny’s stock still now, just the swell of his shoulders show he's still breathing. It takes several long seconds before Benny looks back again, and his face is flushed, eyes dark, “Wet those fingers.”

Goosebumps explode and Dean's grabbing the lube, slicking up two, no, three fingers. It's impossible to control his own breathing right now, bloodstream flooded with adrenaline.

Spreading his thick thighs further, Benny croons, “Go on, open me up, baby.”

Fuck yeah! Propped on Benny’s crazy strong leg, Dean watches from nice and close as his slick fingers slide around that pucker. Biting his own tongue in anticipation, one finger presses… and dips right in. Then a second… and a third joins the party, exploring and finding barely any resistance.“You're wrecked, Papa, this feels so good.”

“You're tellin’ me. Show me what you want.”

Well that's a go ahead of Dean's ever heard one. Maybe he hasn't done this often but he's sure gonna, feeling Benny like this and hearing his deep moans, it's just exhilarating. Replicating his stud's moves, giving that sweet spot some real attention, Dean counts every tremble as a win. A particularly focused stroke across that rubbery bit had Benny clenching as his hips buck against the bed. And Dean catches himself with his other hand raised to… to what? Pulling his fingers out and just blinking, Dean's in shock.

Benny rolls over and up, hands rubbing Dean's shoulders, “Hey, talk to me.”

“I, uh, when you moved, it was just a reaction, but… Benny, I almost spanked you.”

Up go those eyebrows, “Well. Why didn't you?”

Cool, here's a full blush now. But he doesn't duck or hide, doesn't have to with Benny. “Don't think I really want to. Listen, I'll probably lose my mind when we finally, y'know… but it's confusing.”

“Can be at first, doll, but we can talk it out. C'mere.”

Hiding in the comfort of Benny's arms for a couple minutes always helps. Thoughts aren't bouncing around as noisily, kinda landing and staying in place. Okay, he can do this. “I loved how you blew me, let me hold you down n’ gag you. Did some crazy stuff in my head, all really good.”

“Gotta say my eyes crossed a couple times.”

“Yeah? Okay,” deep breath, “I want that again. And to fuck you, tear you up, see my cum dripping. But I don't want to do it all.”

“Never gonna ask you to do something you don't like.”

“I know, babe, seriously. That's not what I meant, I'm… I'm a little buzzed still but more like it's just hard to say things. I mean, I don't wanna be in control. Like with the strap on and how you used me to plug yourself, y'know?”

“Oh, baby, you're an absolute dream,” Benny tugs him up for some real tender lips along his cheeks. “Could bind you upright, head to toe, only this sweet cock free. Use you like a fucking machine.”

Gulping an actual puddle of drool down, Dean's nodding, “Yeah, please.”

“Put you in Hero’s pose, locked tight, ride you just like that.”

“Papa!”

“You like that?”

“Look!” Dean holds up his forearm, the smooth hairless skin pebbled, “I've got goosebumps.”

“That's my boy,” that beard rubs across Dean's jaw, “Just want to be clear, spanking and what else is in the no drawer?”

“Not no, just not… by myself. Benny,” he needs to see his partner's eyes, “I wanna be told to spank you. Or fist you, or fuck you or ride your face ‘til you pass out.”

Eyes light and bright as the Nevada sky, now they're twinkling, “Told by who?”

Breathe, Winchester. “Cas.”

That groan must come from Benny’s toes ‘cause it's deep. 

Licking his lips and pushing on, “Maybe we could try once? Just to see.”

“Him touching and commanding you?”

Ah, now Dean's throat is as dry as South Oak Creek, awesome. He manages a nod.

“Need you to say it, cher, can't have any miscommunication here.”

“Um, I kinda– no, I really want him– Cas… fuck, lemme try again?”

Benny just rubs circles over Dean's knuckles and watches him.

“I want to feel Cas’ hands on me. I'm not saying more than that, just wanna see what it's like. And even if that turns into a no-go, I still want him to tell me how I can touch you.”

“And?”

“He's your Dom, not mine, so there's a difference. A big difference.”

“Rules.”

“Yeah! So, is that, um, okay?”

“First things first, any other confessions?”

“Uh,” his mind races. “Maybe one more.”

“I'm all ears.”

“Kiyaya.”

“Fuck, no one can survive that beast. Want that, baby,” Benny leans back and pulls Dean onto his lap, down to grind over that massive cock, “bring out your wolf, drive him wild with your sexy tail?”

Shuddering while rocking over his stud, Dean's already breathing fast, “Bet he's gonna hate it. Maybe let him touch but only a little n’, oh fuck, Papa, wanna see him take it out on you.”

Which gets Dean flipped to his back and more screams rising as Benny fucks him into the sunrise.

No alarms wake him today, just some good ol’ fashioned deep sleep having his internal clock pinging to wake up. Man does he feel good. Lighter, somehow. Huh.

Showered and a robe tied on, he follows the scent of coffee downstairs. A mug is waiting for him, the true nectar of gods right here. Sipping caffeine and sugar, he goes looking for his man. And gets frustrated real quick ‘cause where the hell is Benny? Last possible door is the garage, so here we go. Oh.

The Impala is parked in her spot, the pretty thing getting her beauty rest. But the roll-up door is open and Benny's on the driveway. Stepping into flip-flops ‘cause sunbaked concrete is murder on feet, he’s trotting over. 

“Babe?”

“Watch your feet! It's alright, cher, gonna take care of it.”

“What is it and,” Dean rounds the tail of Benny's big truck and slams to a halt. Oh, his jaw is hanging for a hot second, then he's royally pissed, “What the hell happened?”

Benny’s rubbing at his neck, rage just below that calm facade, “Betting I know. It's for me to handle.”

“Like hell! This is our home, Benny, they're fucking with us, not just you!”

“I know, believe me I do,” and the big guy looks ready to grow fangs.

Dammit. Dean pulls a deep calming breath and moves closer, stepping into Benny's arms, “Sorry, shouldn't have yelled.”

Hands hold and Bennys chin rests on Dean's shoulder, “It's alright, I wanted to punch something, too.”

This helps them both, just holding and sharing, mutual support. After a good bit, Dean spins and holds Benny's hand while looking over the carnage. 

All tires are slashed and flat, every window shattered. The hood is up, wires and cables spiking where they were clipped. But the real personal shit is the axe buried in the spiderwebbed windshield. 

“Can't believe I didn't hear a thing,” Benny is rightfully frustrated.

Peeking into the engine bay, Dean shakes his head, “Fuckers disabled the alarm.”

Benny growls some more while checking his phone, “Al’s sending over a tow.”

“Good. I mean, none of this is good, just–.”

“I know, Dean, I get it.”

“Here, lemme help. I'll call Vic.”

“Bless you, darlin'. This one isn't going on the books.”

Ah. Which means Dean's supposed to zip his lips and go lalalala ‘cause Benny takes care of things in a finite way. But he should do more, he can do more… “No one fucks with you and gets away with it, babe, I need to be a part of this.”

Arms wrap him again, tender eyes on him, “You are right at the center, Dean. And I know you've got my back, ain't a doubt in my mind. But this side of things is my responsibility.”

“And this,” Dean holds up a hand, pointing out his tattooed ring, “means everything together forever.”

Well, now Dean's knees are knocking ‘cause Benny kisses the script so sweetly, “Always. Alright, but fair warning, I'm gonna be a real bastard.”

“Ooh, love when my BAMF Alpha rips throats.”

“Mmm, boy, if only you knew. Nope,” he pinches Dean's lips, “please don't.”

Dean nods, biting back the ask, really shouldn't push too much. Lips mobile again, “I can check Ring footage.”

“Yeah, thank you. Haven't,” Benny sighs and nods towards the street, “gotten to much yet. Shit.”

It's not the auto shop’s flatbed, it's a familiar black SUV. And that hurricane storming out is also familiar. Well.

Now, Dean's seen Cas in two ways: wicked Dom raining molotovs in the form of praise while putting Benny through paces, and as a mostly stone cold statue. This would be all-new, a furious Angel. Holy crap, he's freaking hot in a tee and jeans. 

Eyes brighter than blue flame race over them both and this guy looks ready to explode, “What happened?”

Benny holds up a hand, “Just this, man.”

But Dean feels the need to add, “So far. I'm gonna look through the cameras.”

Cas doesn't wait a beat, nope, “Were either of you harmed?”

“Do you see the city on fire? ‘Cause that's what would happen if someone hurt my boy,” Benny’s getting riled up again. 

“Yes, I agree,” Cas agrees to… what? “When did this vandalism occur?”

“I'll find out. Hey, Papa, I'm gonna grab a tablet, okay?”

“Mmhmm. Put some clothes on, too.”

Glancing down at his black silk robe that's kinda wide open to the belt and just barely covering some dangly bits, Dean pouts, “Thought you liked this robe.”

“Oh I do, babydoll. But you wanna ride along, can't have you distracting me with every breath.”

Now Dean's cheeky, “Nice save. Ah, d’you want some coffee?”

That was aimed at Cas but the guy doesn't respond and… those big eyes are locked onto Dean's belly. But they blink and are just on Dean's eyes now, “No, thank you, Dean.”

Tongue-tied for no freaking reason – Dean knows the reason – he heads inside. Maybe stares blankly at a wall for a minute, no one has to know. In his palatial closet, he grabs a yellow sundress that makes his glow pop. And shoves it back ‘cause Benny would be flipping his skirt up. Alright, shorts it is, not wearing pants when it's 97° out. White denim that fully covers his ass, his favorite belt, a candy apple red vee-neck and black high tops. Yeah, this is nice and proper. Well, for Dean.

Grabbing his and Benny's aviators and a tablet, Dean's tapping into the security app while strutting to the driveway. The backup warning is loud as fuck, for good reason, as a tow truck backs into the driveway. Handing over the glasses, Dean keeps an eye on the truck ‘cause driving one of those rigs is definitely on his bucket list. And his other eye is on Cas, the Angel must be chewing someone apart over the phone, pacing along the walkway. Back to the truck, the line is connected and chains rattle. Sliding an arm around Benny's waist, Dean offers silent support, knowing this must be tearing around in Benny like the Tasmanian Devil. 

Once the truck is loaded and gone, Benny directs them out of direct sunlight and into the house. Too bright out there to see the screen anyway. Though no less hot ‘cause Dean can feel Cas’ eyes on him. And all the talking points from this morning flood Dean's mind… and are promptly muted, one thing at a freaking time, alright?

Standing at the kitchen island, he finds it. A big guy looks over either shoulder as they watch the panel of camera scopes. Cas steps out the front door at 4:47AM and heads right to the chauffeured SUV. The fact that he pauses and looks back at the house for a long moment, well, it wasn't missed by Dean. Moving on. 

Motion is picked up at 4:52AM, a figure dropping over the privacy wall between their house and the one behind. Each view shows blacked out clothes and a flash of white, but it's too here to tell. The figure has the Ram 3500’s hood up in seconds, then popping around the truck and making stabbing motions, definitely slashing tires. When the figure climbs onto the hood, the axe in hand is unmistakable. The person raises it and turns, finally facing the over-garage camera long enough for Dean to pause and take a screenshot. It's a guy, dark hair, can't tell the eyes, but there's a hefty upside down cross reflecting from a chain. White gloves heft the axe and strike the windshield three times, leaving it buried on the last. Dude hops down, scoops up a backpack and just fucking strolls off. 

“I don't recognize him,” Benny scrolls back, focused on the face shot.

Dean doesn't forget a face, shaking his head, “Never saw him at the club.”

Cas is quiet.

“Y’know, good for us, but who the fuck wouldn't wear a mask when pulling shit like this? COVID made masks a-okay everywhere,” Dean points out.

“Because they wanted him to be seen,” Cas clearly had a breakfast of iron nails, his voice rumbling.

“What're you thinking, man?”

“A lackey for another head of the Hydra.”

Okay, Dean's curiosity is more piqued than his appetite and that's saying something, “Meaning?”

Cas blasts him with those killer eyes and grinds his teeth.

“Gonna have to share, Blue, sweet Dean’s gotta hear it.”

But the Angel hesitates, something else flashing through those eyes as he looks back and forth between Dean and Benny. And this is when Dean realizes how close they all are, literally inches away ‘cause the guys were watching the tablet. Like close enough for Dean to get a whiff of that spicy cologne and great, his stomach’s clenching and not from hunger. Maybe Cas felt it, too, or just isn't in the mood to be up in Dean's personal space – why is Dean disappointed? – and steps around to the other side of the island. 

“The inverted crucifix is a symbol worn by the Disciples of Princes.”

Dean frowns, “Like Crips or Bandidos?”

“Infinitely less moral. A crime family ,” the word is spat out, “prevalent in the deep south. My family has gone head-to-head against them countless times, yet no matter the devastation we rain down, more emerge from the depths of hell.”

Benny’s asking something, probably a sensible question, but Dean's tongue slips and he blurts out, “Angels and Demons?”

No one laughs. In fact, Cas solemnly nods, “Yes.”

“Cas, what're they doing here, coming after mine?”

Fuck, that possessiveness does wild things to Dean's everything. 

“There's money here,” Cas whirls away and paces, “business opportunities ripe for the picking. Likely targeting the same ventures I have my eyes on. This group prefers to take and decimate rather than build and grow. Decimation inspires fear, heads bow, these abominations could establish a rotten hold on this city.”

Benny shakes his pretty head, “I'm not worried about the city right now.”

Cas cards his slick hair and that's the most anxious thing Dean has seen the guy do. But he raises that perfect chin, “Human trafficking. Everywhere these vermin emerge from their fucking lairs, people disappear. The most beautiful people,” and those eyes land on Dean.

So… Cas thinks Dean's beautiful? Sure, the MegaloDom complimented him from the other side of the screen when Dean was bound during Benny's scenes. But right here, standing six feet away, that packs a punch. 

But the freeze-frame moment shatters as Cas paces again, “This is my fault.”

“Spell it out, man,” Benny’s on-edge.

“I’ve been gone for too long. Years in New York without enforcing my position here.” From there it's a rapid-fire spewing of words. The gist being Cas was working with someone on the East Coast and “neglected” Sin City. There's more, but Dean's mentally stuck on the someone part. Does someone include a relationship like Benny? Is there someone waiting for Cas? Why the hell does this feel so shitty?

Fingers cupping his chin draw Dean out of his spiral, “What're you thinking, cher?”

“Ah,” awkward, “sorry, took a hard left.”

The doorbell chimes.

Tapping live mode on the app, it's Axil. Benny kisses Dean's head and heads to the doors.

“Dean.”

Gulp. Glancing up, “Sup?”

“I'm truly sorry,” those huge eyes are earnest, “neither of you should be experiencing this.”

Covering a squirm with a shrug, Dean gives a half-smile, “Not blaming you. There's always a monster lurking in the shadows.”

“I will ensure your safety.”

A witty quip fizzles on Dean's tongue ‘cause Cas is serious. Like Benny-level serious. All Dean can do is nod and give a gruff, “Okay.”

But Cas doesn't look away and Dean is mesmerized, held by those eyes… 

Ah, distraction. Here's Benny and Axil, the guys talking about security systems for the house and property. Okay, Dean can follow this. Sipping coffee and keeping mental notes, it sounds like every window and external door is now gonna be monitored by Ash’s systems and team. Which translates to no bare assing it around the house, dammit. Still, could be worse and Dean's not gonna pout about a damn thing, that'd be selfish.

So when Benny tells him it's time to head out, Dean grabs his phone, keys and lip gloss, all a man needs. Maybe he came close to stuttering when Cas just climbed into the backseat of the Impala, smoothly covering the slip with a round of throat clearing. Directions from the backseat driver takes them downtown, the echo of Baby’s engine sounding freaking awesome in the underground parking garage. Stopped in front of a valet, this is where Dean nearly balks ‘cause he's protective of his car. And the really freaking recent image of Benny's truck utterly trashed has him biting back, only leveling the valet with a stern look while handing over the keys. 

Benny takes Dean's hand, lifting to kiss his knuckles which always has Dean going all Gumby, “She'll be just fine, darlin'.”

“I'm not even that worried.” 

That looks says Benny ain't buying what Dean's selling, but also isn't calling him out. 

“Dean, the staff here are exceptionally well-trained and conscientious,” which is Cas’ attempt to ameliorate while leading them into the building.

“Where exactly is here?”

Benny fills in, “His condo.”

“Yes. I also maintain a central office here,” Cas steps into an elevator with an actual… doorman? Elevator man? Bellhop? Whatever the term, a servant for folks too rich to press a button. The prim looking little guy must be clairvoyant, too, just tapping 31 and up they go.

An equally prim brunette woman meets them literally at the door, “Good afternoon, Mr. Novak.”

“Hannah. This is Mr. Lafitte and Mr. Winchester.”

She nods but keeps her hands chastely behind her back. Huh, Dean's wondering just how trained this staff is and now he's wondering why that thought irritates him. Hannah says stuff as they walk into a lobby and down hallways with expensive decor. Now this is sweet; Cas has an actual corner office with a helluva nice view. Very industrial chic. The Angel heads to the wide dark wood table rather than the desk, motioning them to join him.

Being a performer means having fantastic body awareness, so outside of home and private, comfy places, Dean doesn't just sit, he poses. Carefully propping himself on a stupidly comfortable rolling chair, he leans to one hip, legs crossed and a sandaled heel bouncing enticingly – or anxiously, it's a close call. But he gets an elbow bent just right, leaving his other hand free to reach for Benny's. From the suited woman’s side glances Dean knows his type don't frequent this space. And from the Cas’ blatant stare, it's well-received.

Once they're alone, Cas scrubs at his face with long fingers, agitation apparent again. “Benny, if I had known who was behind–.”

Benny cuts him off, “You didn't, I didn't, but now we do. So how do I find them?”

“We'll get to that shortly, I promise. For this, I must apologize in advance. This won't be pleasant.”

Toying with the hairs on Benny's arm while watching Cas’ every move, Dean pipes in, “Can't let some bags of dicks ruin your day, man.”

Huh, the Angel chuckles, “Oh, there are worse creatures than Demons. Please don't hold them against me.”

The big TV facing the table – the Dean Cave one is definitely bigger – comes alive, showing a familiar video conferencing platform. Whoa, what kind of kinky– no, there's no way, right? 

Benny laughs and tugs Dean closer, “Boy, I swear I heard your thoughts right there.”

Sure, Dean blushes and squirms, “What'm I supposed to think?”

“Lord, you are just perfect,” Benny’s as sweet as his accent.

Cas lifts a brow, “What am I missing?”

“Oh, just a bit of Pavlovian behavior here. This pet’s mind went right to our playroom.”

“Duh! I know that screen,” Dean points to the TV, “and that voice! Always means I'm tied up nice n’ tight and better behave.”

“And you usually do, though I never mind having to correct your fine ass.”

The look on Cas’ face is next-level, conflicted and edging towards pure shark. A blink and it's all gone, replaced by a stone slab, Cas just stabbing a finger at the mounted tablet.

A chime is heard over the surrounding speakers, the screen showing a call ringing. It goes on for an obnoxiously long time before someone answers. 

“Howdy, Cassie! Now, why am I awake so early in the morning?”

Cas rolls those huge eyes and has a tone dry enough to make Death Valley feel humid, “It's evening in Atlantic City.”

“Tomato, asparagus.” The blond guy shoves his face closer to the screen, “ Someone's been busy. Where'd you find so much pretty?”

“You know where, now shut up. Benny, Dean, this is my brother Gabriel.”

Dean's unsure what vibe to throw out there, so he just follows Benny, giving a manly nod and a husky, “Hey.”

Gabriel smirks, “Hi, boys. Wow, Cassie, never took you for the showboating type, always keeping your pets locked up. So, well done, have fun. I've got my own menagerie to tickle my fancies,” and the guy falls backwards onto a bed. Red sheets are visible, along with several hands coming into view, rubbing down the guy’s less than impressive chest.

Cas is not amused, growling three words, “Asmodeus is here.”

And up comes Gabriel, “Say that again, someone's tongue was in my ear.”

“You heard me.”

“In Vegas?”

“Here! In their home!” That was a full shout and holy fuck Cas rattles all the glass in this big office. 

“Whoa now.” Another hand comes into view but Gabriel brushes it away while also walking away, “Lay it out.”

Cas quickly recounts the events as Hannah returns with cold drinks, serving them all silently and disappearing.

Thing is… quite a few of these events Dean had no clue of. Which is usually fine, it's their norm, right, but holy shit there’s just so much. A knot forms deep in Dean's gut, confusion running his mind in circles, But Benny knows, wrapping an arm around Dean's shoulders and pressing kisses into his hair. Fuck, that helps, though it doesn't wash away the bone-deep guilt. It's all he can think of. The guys are talking about strongholds and minions and warnings and fuck all, but everything echoes hollowly in Dean's skull. Nausea strikes as his stomach turns. 

Shoving to his feet, Dean hears and ignores the lecherous whistle from the video call, calling over it, “Hey, Cas, where's the restroom?” The second he gets the general direction, he kisses Benny's cheek and does his best to control his stride and not run. Finding the posh restroom in seconds, Dean stares in the mirror. And fights the tears that sting his eyes. It's too much, he can't beat so many slippery saline drops, finally folding over the counter to bury his face in his hands. 

“Dean?”

Fuck.

Swiping a hand under the faucet doesn't get the freaking thing running, so he waves back and forth until the smart faucet does its freaking job. Splashing his face with cool water, Dean doesn't look up.

“Dean.”

Why why whyyyyy does Cas say his name like that? Turning away to find paper towels… and of course this efficient, no waste place has none. Can't really stick his face in front of a blow dryer, could dehydrate his pores. Awesome, prime example, Winchester. And Dean's back to fighting silent tears.

“Please talk to me.”

Unable to turn around, Dean hugs his own elbows and pulls on years of practice to not shiver or tremble. Words are hard but if he doesn't say something, he could implode. “It's my fault.”

“What is?”

“All of it.”

“I see no blame pointed towards you.”

Whirling around, Dean glares at the freaking gorgeous Angel and barks out his turmoil, “It is! All of this is happening ‘cause of my selfish, egocentric ass. Benny wouldn’t have had to, to…” his voice breaks and Dean's staring at the ceiling and praying for paper towels to fall like manna.

“Here, please,” Cas is holding out a handkerchief. Like an actual silky monogrammed white square.

If he wasn't so desperate, this would be funny. However, he is desperate and grabs the cloth with a mumbled thanks, turning away again to swipe at his face.

“The horrible actions of others are not your sins, Dean. Nor Benny’s.”

“No, not his, 150,000% not his. It was me, Cas, I brought this bullshit down on him.”

There's that head tilt and it's a struggle to hold back a laugh, but if Dean slips, he'll be cackling like a loon and rocking himself in a corner. 

“Why would you think that?”

Dabbing at a traitorous tear duct again, Dean’s voice is as rough as his current mental state, “Benny’s had my back from the moment we met. Fought my battles like the sexiest of all champions, just… he's so fucking good and sweet and loving and I love him to death. But I didn't know there was this much. Scuffles at the clubs, pervs at bars when we go out, the usual. Didn't know… that he's fighting a war every freaking day!”

“You're right, Dean,” the hangman approaches, “Benny loves you more than life.” Oh. “It's an honor to fight for those we care about, no matter the situation.”

“But I'm the situation! I'm bringing this, this freaking nightmare to our lives. While I'm up on a stage sucking up dollar bills and applause from mindless strangers, Benny is literally battling through freaking Purgatory! Just because I’m so fucking needy and crave attention, can't even,” Dean stares at himself in the mirror for a second, “fuck, can't even dress like a normal human. If I just cover my ass and–.”

“Stop.”

Okay, one word from some guy isn't going to change Dean's spewing. But that word from that guy using that tone, Dean has whiplash from yanking so hard on the e-brake.

“Look at me.”

Cool, Dean's eyes are as spineless as his ears, just following commands from… from Cas. Fuck.

“You could wear six sheets and a dozen masks and your beauty would still shine through. You're beautiful inside and out, Dean. And Demons covet beauty in the worst ways. Evil exists in every corner of this world. It preys on people. You and Benny have not allowed it to latch onto either of you, nor will I allow it to get any closer.”

That's… a lot. And intense and so freaking conflicting. Sniffling and turning back to the sink, Dean alternates running his inner wrists under the tap,  needing the cool down. The repetition helps him to think in a calmer manner, barely blubbering. “Still should never have happened. Maybe I can end it.” Light bulb moment here.

“I… how?”

“I dunno! Just something! I'll retire. Officially, no more anything public. Stupid cunts will lose interest, leave Benny alone.”

“I'm so sorry, Dean, these denizens of Hell don't stop, they'll follow you to no end.”

Fury and fear mingle and erupt from Dean's throat, “So let them! I'll lead every fucking lemming right off a cliff! And you can bet every last dollar that Benny’s waiting at the bottom with one hand to catch me and the other hoisting a fucking chainsaw to finish them off.”

What's unexpected is the smile cracking through the granite of Cas' beatific face, or the churning thunderous laugh. “God, Dean, you are unreal. Please, if there's one thing I can impress upon you, it's this. Don't give up, don't give in. Stay you. Unapologetically, unabashedly, brilliantly you. The evil eyeing you is nothing new to the world, it's everywhere. Snatching pure sunlight…” Cas trails off and the heat in this restroom reaches the middle triple digits real quick. But the stud clears his throat, “Snuffing out or hiding the light.”

Rocked and shaken, Dean's clinging to his own elbows again, “So… you're saying keep stripping?”

Cas sighs, “You don't just strip, Dean. You're an artist.”

“Yeah, that's me, basically Bill Watterson.”

There's silence, then, “Who?”

“The artist, Watterson, master of ink.”

“Ah, sorry, I'm not familiar with tattoo artists.”

“No,” Dean lets out a genuine laugh and leans a hip against the counter, “comic artist. Calvin and Hobbes.”

“For all that's,” Cas mumbles while pinching his bridge.

“Don't comic shame me, man!”

“Fine, let's just agree to differing opinions.”

“Alright, fine.” Dean should wash his hands… of the heavy conversation and the insanity happening right now, but that isn't happening. “Lemme guess, you're a Family Circle fan.”

“Mmm, no, my behavior is rarely rated family friendly.”

And Dean's mind is diving so far into the gutters that he catches a glimpse of a Ninja Turtle parkouring by. Deflection, “Dilbert.”

“I'm more of an Office Space man.”

“Don't tell me, it's Kathy.”

“Wow, Dean, have I offended you so greatly that you rend flesh from bone?”

“Alright, wise guy, what's your poison?”

“South Park.”

Dean stares and replays the audio in his mind, “No way.”

Up goes that brow, “Yes way.”

“Huh. Didn't take you for, y'know, that kinda guy.”

“Well, I'd like to think I have more depth than what is superficially seen.”

Tongue made slippery from all the turmoil, Dean manages to tack on, “Lot more than I thought.”

And brought the room to a tense silence. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment, though I'm unsure if–.”

Dean grumbles a bit, “It is.”

“Ah, thank you. Back to the original point, Dean, this isn't’ on you in the slightest.”

The avalanche is felt again, “It hurts, Cas, right here,” Dean slaps his breastbone. “Like a thousand elephants squatting, and I know it wouldn't be so bad if I didn't antagonize the shit outta everyone.”

“Oh you sweet, lovely boy,” Cas’ smile is saying 16 different things, “The behavior of others is not your responsibility.”

Gulping again, Dean looks to the side, away from his own reflection, “I make it worse.”

“No, darling you don't. You inspire so much, like a strong breeze coming from the waterfront, enlivening everything.”

Well… Dean's brain flips over and squirms. “That's kinda awesome, thanks.”

“It’s honesty.”

And here's Dean's own honesty, “Can I… I kinda want to hug you.”

Huge sapphires don't so much as blink.

“Would that be weird?”

He sees Cas' Adam's apple bob, an inaudible gulp. The silence is loaded, heavy, then, “Not weird.”

Watching for any sign of, well, anything, Dean closes the distance. Hovering for just a second before sliding his arms beneath Cas’, tucking his cheek on a broad shoulder. It's nice, but… “Kind of a two-man thing.”

Cas wraps his arms loosely around Dean's back and this is easily 50 times better. There's a long exhale and the weight of those arms increases, feeling real damn good. Feels safe.

Whispering so quietly that he only could be heard with his lips this close to Cas’ ear, Dean says, “Thank you.”

Cas squeezes ever so slightly and only for a split second, but it was there. 

Stepping back, Dean offers a half-smile, “I get clingy.”

“Understanding your own needs is important.”

“Yeah, guess.” And his stomach growls.

“All your needs. Come, let's eat.”

“Got anything good in this joint?”

The big guy rolls his eyes and holds the door open, “The Internet, a veritable smorgasbord at the tap of order now.”

Sailing past with a laugh, Dean quips, “Ooh, someone's sassy. Ha, is that why your brother calls you Cassie?” The responding grumble has him laughing again. This guy's kinda great.

Chapter Text

Of all the stressors and security concerns over this tumultuous day, two things have remained brightly highlighted on marquees in Castiel's mind. 

The first is surprising not in that it exists, but the degree to which Cas feels it: he cares for these men more deeply than any other people ever. Yes, he was enraged at the violation of Benny and Dean's home, at each cascading implication identified by the Intel and security teams alike, but over and above, he was worried. Anxiety and something akin to fear had his chest tight and stomach twisted. Fear for them. Which in itself is astounding, shocking to himself yet unquestionable in sincerity. There is not even a whiff of doubt that Cas’ new primary goal is spreading his wings around them, to figuratively stamp his sigil of protection on their bones.

The second is also something unforeseen and devastatingly wonderful: Dean hugged him. More than. This surreal enigma showed heart wrenching vulnerability, the depths of his own love for Benny and asked for a hug. From Cas. That is the one Cas is clueless on how to handle. Personal ethical standards led him to immediately admit to Benny that he had in fact touched Dean. Despite it being the beauty's tearful request, he again crossed a line. Yet Benny just visibly softened and reached for Dean, drawing the stunning man onto his lap and asking Dean how he's feeling, reassuring his partner that together they can beat anything. It was beautiful. And Cas wants to be a part of it. 

Despite the thoroughly distracting thoughts and feelings, time passes quickly as various teams are coordinated. Meg and Axil’s teams have installed new security measures around the house and property, also moved up the timeline for incorporating new procedures at each club here in Vegas and the rest in other cities. On loan from Dante’s – thanks to an odd pseudo-friendship between Dean and Crowley himself – is the head security operative Cain, aptly called the Knight of Hell. The quiet and deadly Knight has already disappeared into the murky depths, not one for check-ins unless there is actionable Intel. Sending out one of his own soldiers, Cas has confidence that Gadreel will identify his target quickly. From another branch of the Angels, Gabriel is rousing personnel to aid in his own personal retribution against Asmodeus, the so-called Prince of Hell. 

Through it all, Benny has been tireless, a veritable powerhouse of quiet rage behind a calm voice. Catching himself staring several times and imagining just what this beast is capable of, Cas finds no relief for the arousal constantly stirring deep with his own body. Focusing on the other man is equally frustrating yet just as admirable. Dean is the paramount of beauty and just glowing in his delicious attire, utter temptation. And truly clever, this man noticed details, connected dots and yet seemed to want to hide his intelligence. Which leads to Cas biting his tongue for the umpteenth time, it's not his place to… to what? To anything, really. His only true governance is operational, the realm of the businesses and collateral impact. But fuck it all, he wants to be involved to every degree with these two.

When Dean excuses himself to take a call, yes, Cas’ eyes were firmly locked onto those gorgeous legs until the office door blocked the holy view.

Benny shakes his head with a quiet chuckle, “Mmm, sometimes my mind just goes blank.”

“I sincerely sympathize,” Cas huffs into his 6th cup of coffee, “I may need to change my name to Johnny Five.”

“Ha, got you short circuiting, huh?”

“To put it mildly.”

“Listen, I'm serious, Cas, thank you for calming him down earlier.”

A flutter of something unknown is again felt in his chest, the sensation leading Cas to clear his throat, “It was an honor.” He hesitates but cannot fight the need to say something, “He’s hurting inside.”

“Yeah,” Benny pushes up to pace, Cas turning in his chair to watch those thick muscles, agitation so clearly visible. “I hate what this is doing to him. For every drop of gorgeous confidence in that man, he feels guilty for damn near everyone and everything. 

“Why?”

“Oh, he carries the weight of the world in that big heart.”

Biting back the words for a moment, then releasing them as that flutter notches up, “So do you, Benny.”

The fighter turns with a small smile, lovely eyes on Cas now, “Sure do, heart and shoulders. That boy is my world.”

Moved again by the sheer affection between these men, Cas means every word, “With shoulders like yours, there is no doubt you can carry him.”

Benny nods and smiles, “Happily.” Those eyes hold Castiel's for a long moment, the Cajun somehow again seeing the thoughts Cas has not dared to say aloud. “Thing is, I've got two shoulders n’ so do you.”

A thrill races up from Cas’ tailbone, exhilarating everything along the way. His scalp tightens and he can feel every hair, could count them if his mind wasn't entirely flooded with the possible implications. But he needs exacts, this is too important to not know precisely what Benny means. Words fail to formulate.

Closer with each step, Benny holds out a hand. Cas takes it and is tugged to his feet, frozen motionless when Benny lifts his hand and kisses it. Not just a quick peck or even a single touch, no, those are warm lips firmly pressing each knuckle, the act completely mesmerizing. When he can force his eyes up again, he's still under perusal by those baby blues.

“You gonna say it?”

Cas blinks and clears his throat, “What?”

“You're not coy, Blue, don't play it.”

Fuck. No, Castiel Novak is not shy or reticent, he is… terrified. 

“Hmph, now that’s a look I know. Standing on the edge, anything could happen,” Benny's voice is a soft drawl, his thumb rubbing across Cas’ hand. “Pretty pointless to worry unless you don't want it.”

Here Cas finds his tongue, “I believe worrying comes into play either way.”

“Maybe with someone else. Not here. All it takes is talking, it can change that twisted feeling right here,” another large fist thumps Benny's breast bone, “into something incredible.”

“Benny, that,” Cas hears the astonishment in his own voice and tries to rein himself in, “is a fantastic offer–.”

“Don't try n’ talk yourself out, just talk.”

Countless thoughts race through Cas’ mind, but he shoves each back and bares his soul, “I want that.”

“Tell me, Cas.”

“All of it, everything. I… want to be who you both call when something happens. To help, protect, comfort. To shoulder you,” and here is something else he has never said, “to be with you like this.” Before his rational side can halt him, Cas takes Benny's mouth. This intimate connection is so new and unknown and craved, he's immediately fighting a different kind of urge. But he prevails, just brushing their lips together again, breathing each other’s air.

“Damn, that's more like it. C'mere, you pretty thing,” Benny slides thick arms around Cas' waist, pulling them flush. The drag of that soft beard is perfect as Benny nuzzles his cheek, lips following an unknown path across Cas’ cheek.

Gripping Benny's bicep and chin, guiding those bold lips, needing to taste him more than he needs to breathe, Cas is lost in the incredible sensations. Only when the darker urges become increasingly demanding does he pull back, though he doesn't let go. Staring into Benny's eyes, he sees so much swirling in there, so many unlabeled but incredible things. That thought slips right out his tingling mouth, “You're incredible.”

The deep laugh is warm and thick as fog, wonderful, “You're just full of surprises.”

Moved, Cas forces himself to admit another new truth, “Thank you, darling. You push me.”

“Nothing you can't handle.” There's a playful smirk that widens when Benny glances to the side, “That’s the one that'll have you counting to 10 every five minutes.”

It's Dean. Of course it's Dean. Beautiful with wide eyes and pink cheeks, pauses in the doorway with nipples and their rings pebbled below his tight shirt. Dean watching them, watching Cas give in to his desire. And it's Dean who meets his eyes with intensity flashing through every gold fleck amongst emeralds. 

The beauty lifts his chin and pouts painted lips, “Can't make it too easy.”

“Nope, but always worth it,” Benny pulls his arms back to face his partner, but doesn't step away. A point Cas notices with rabid interest. “Darlin’, you've got time for a nap.”

Dean pops an utterly drool worthy hip and narrows his eyes at Benny, “Not gonna fight me on this?”

“Not just yet,” Benny holds out a hand.

Even as Cas watches every movement, Dean struts over and curls his long body against Benny's side, the ambient heat rising right here. It's Cas' who steps back, casually, painfully, respecting Dean's personal space. And it's Dean who gives him a remarkably open look as he draws a breath… but the beauty shakes his head and kisses Benny’s cheek, “Thanks, Papa. I need it “

“Mmhmm, not gonna cramp your style unless it's just too risky.”

Concern flares and drives Cas to speak, “You intend to work tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my special night!”

“But after all,” he cuts himself off, this is not his place. Yet. Oh fuck, that thought churns up so much. “Ah, apologies, I would offer my condo for your… napping, however it's not set up for… resting.”

And Benny just draws a deep breath ending with a hum, “Yeah, you've got near as much equipment as we have at Bleib. But this fine pet right here has two favorite ways to nap, don’tcha cher?”

“I like to be comfy, nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope, not a damn thing,” Benny nips at Dean's lips.

Dean arches into the contact, fingers pulling at Benny's shirt. A moment later a tremble courses Dean's exquisite body, relayed to the faint moan as… as he licks Benny's lips. The lips Castiel had just been savoring. Dear lord.

Benny lifts back, “Feisty boy. If we had more time, I'd truss you up nice n’ tight, help you sleep. But…”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean huffs, then slides his eyes over to Cas, looking through his lashes as he shrugs, “Can't risk marks before work.”

Multitudes of images and scenarios are planted forefront in Cas' mind and may live there forever. He navigates around each like an armed mine, fingernails biting into his own palms to remain even toned, “The installations at your home are complete, only the assigned operatives are still there.”

“Nah, I’ve got an awesome daybed in my dressing room. Just need someone to tuck me in.”

“Always, babyboy. Cas, you gonna come hang out?”

He wants to. He wants to be right next to these incredible men at every moment. Where is the line, though, what is too much? Rationality sinks in, “As our time together today was unplanned, I–.”

Benny sails right over the objection, “I'd sure like your company.”

His own eyes darted to those emeralds, looking for any indication of anything.

Dean pokes at Benny's chest, “And you better have dinner.”

“Oh, I’m gonna, though I'm hoping for some damn fine presentation.”

“Only the finest of all fish in the sea for my grizzly,” Dean pokes Benny's impressive chest.

It's Saturday. Fuck. Another image has moved into the crowded landscape of Castiel's imagination, and he is so very hungry. “Sharks never stop feasting.”

There's a sharp inhale that parts red lips, followed by, “Know why? ‘Cause one taste of this,” Dean rolls his body like he had done onstage, the ghost of a coin-laden loin cloth echoing in Cas’ mind, “and they're hooked, just need another bite.” He spins on his heel and stalks back towards the door. Either Dean has practiced the move countless times or he is just innately graceful – Cas is certain both are correct – as he glances over his shoulder with just a wink and hint of a flirtatious smile, “Gonna come swimming?”

There is an odd freaking sound. Ah, there it is again. But where… wonderful, Cas is once again grinding his teeth. Forcing the joint to loosen, he turns to Benny, “You have the patience of a saint.”

“Don't I know it,” but the erotically formidable fighter claps Cas’ shoulder, “C'mon, man.”

Soon they're at Ravissant, Benny making good on his word to get his partner settled. Ignoring the bizarre sensation in his chest and denying his feet’s urge to find Dean's room, Cas keeps busy. Tapping on various personnel for chat-ins and SitReps, he quickly has a summary of expectations for the night. Now if only he could focus. 

When Benny joins him, they tackle remaining outlying KPIs neglected earlier in the day. They work well together, something Cas realized from their first day albeit remotely. This lovely man has a sharp mind and knows what the customers want, but also how to bait people enough so they'll follow the rules, hand over cash and keep begging for more. Apt.

Another hour disappears and so does Benny, though he first puts his lips against Cas' ear with a promise to be right back with something much more fun than excel files. And he is.

Now wearing a silk dress shirt left tantalizingly unbuttoned quite far, Benny is sheer calm and pride as he steps into the main lounge. On his arm is the embodiment of fantasy. A cherry red cheongsam dress wraps Dean's body, from high Mandarin collar down to the floor-length hem. Black and gold brocade is subtle compared to be glimpses of real gold; slits up either side to those narrow hips are held in place by frog buttons, each flexing as Dean struts on black heeled sandals. His lips are red as they have been all day, but a deeper shade now, another that would look incredible smeared around Cas’ cock. Fuck. 

The cheers and shouts from the enraptured crowds are faint, Cas’ own heartbeat is too loud to hear much else. Thankfully his other senses take over; the swish of Dean's dress would be cool and smooth, the heat of Benny's exposed chest like sun-warmed stone, the fluffy red tail swinging behind Dean would be… That's the one that has Cas choking. Sputtering for a moment, he quickly downs several sips of water and chastises himself. Yet it nearly happens again when Benny catches his eye and winks, then leans to speak to Dean. Now Cas doesn't choke, no, he can't even breathe because Dean strides towards him. Not just in this direction, but towards Castiel, eyes locked on as that stunning body undulates with each step. 

Dean stops just inches away, lashes thick and black and fanned as he looks up through them. Yes, that look is actual murder, Cas is losing substantial portions of his own mind each time it occurs. The beauty purrs, “Gonna walk me to our table?”

“Of course,” that is the extent of speech at the moment. But Cas moves, holding an elbow out and bearing down on the growl that rises in his chest. What he wouldn't give to stake a claim on Dean, visible to the entire world, a brand. 

They rejoin Benny who offers Dean his other arm as they circle to the couple’s reserved booth. It's brief, no more than 41 seconds of meandering around the lounge before Dean follows Benny onto the bench. No, it's exactly 41 seconds, Cas knows. Seated and needing the ice from the waiting glass to stave off spontaneous combustion, Cas must calm down. A round of drinks is served, but to little effect.

“Told you.”

Ah, yes, Cas had been staring quite pointedly at Dean for a while now, yet somehow missed that the man had spoken to him. “What are you referring to?”

Dean nods towards the boisterous crowds filling each floor of the club, “We’re gonna sell out.”

“Sure are, babydoll.”

Cas blinks and tries to hold back, but cannot, “While the imagery is beyond motivating, I must caution against feeding anyone tonight.”

Now Dean rolls his eyes a bit, not enough to be seen from anyone not at this table, his work mode unflappable, “Great, you're hanging up on me.”

As Cas salivates at the sheer thought, Benny tsks, “None of that, cher. Just until things calm some, okay?”

“Fine. But you owe me something good.”

“Deal,” Benny kisses Dean's cheek. 

Dean rises to his tall height, silk smoothing as he stands, “What d'you think, Cas? Do I look good enough to eat?”

“Utterly ravishing.”

“Fuck yeah, that's more like it. Have fun, boys,” and Dean swaggers away, tail swishing like a visual siren calling Cas to follow him.

Slamming back his bourbon, the bite of alcohol is welcome. He faces Benny, “I may lose my mind.”

“Join the club, Feathers. Boy’s looking to make a point tonight.”

Curious, Cas squints, “To customers or the Demons?”

Benny raises his brows for a second, “Or something else. Alright, want to pick a la carte, or go for a full flight?”

The sushi was impeccable, each bite a unique and balanced blend of texture and flavor. Yet it turns to dust on his tongue when the lighting changes, highlighting the main stage. The song is familiar – Horns by Bryce Fox – but never has music been so lucky as now, having Dean move to the beat. No, that's Kiyaya…

Keeping with the ridiculously appealing red theme, Kiyaya is covered with a hooded cape. Pulled low enough over his face that only red lips are visible, then draped to just inches above thigh-high red boots, the promise of sensuality is right there. Every movement is a tease, long fingers sliding along his own thighs, raising the cape now and then. Cas is on the edge of his seat waiting for more. Ah, he actually is. With a smooth move he scoots back and ignores the muffled chuckle next to him.

Kiyaya throws his hood back, winking to the crowd as they howl for him. The cape finally pools at his heels, expertly kicked towards the curtain as his long tail unfolds and swings. Ultra fine ribbons criss-cross Kiyaya’s chest, an organized tangle that Cas would love to sort with his own tongue. They thread down to a barely-there scrap of lace covering Kiyaya's cock, looping back to curl around the base of his tail… around his plug. Now Kiyaya climbs the pole, muscles gleaming as he defies gravity. 

And when the second song comes on, Dean also defies the laws of thermodynamics, turning the air into an actual inferno. Cas can feel himself searing, blistering, and he welcomes it all. 

“Babyboy loves this song, gets himself riled up.”

“What is it?”

“Boy Epic, Wolf,” Benny hums deep in his chest, “The things he's done while dancing to this one… man, he'll be feral until I tie him down.”

“Benny, what's the other way?”

“Hmm?”

“To nap.”

“Oh, ha! On a beach, full sun, just wearing his tail.”

Cas drowns himself in another drink. It doesn't help. He needs Kiyaya as intensely as he needs Dean. Fuck.

Chapter Text

An amazing night led to an incredible morning, and some fuckers had to try and fuck with it all. The anger and outrage are held tight, bundled up under heavy chains right at the base of Benny's neck, where he carries all his stress. Nothing helps him forget about the rest of the world like his partner does, the very best kind of distracting. Except when that boy is the target of the stress inducers, then Benny’s hovering near feral. 

Then enters the Angel. Again, ha. Damn, Benny can hear Dean's goofiness in his own head. And can sure see what Cas wants. Finding himself wanting so much more than he'd anticipated, he's more than happy to give some nudges so these stubborn boys see past their own blinders. 

But tonight they need eyes wide open. Weekends always bring heavy crowds, with the locals joining the constant stream of tourists. Folks jostle for best seats, quicker table service, more attention from the dancers. Two customers were already removed for reaching hands into the side cages, thinking they're slick enough to rub on the new boy in there. 

Some jackass wearing a rather telling red cap threw a fit when warned there's no smoking in the club. Said-jackass had a lot of mouthiness about his rights to smoke, and Jorge schooled the moron about private property rights while hauling him out the door. As always, the cronies with matching accessories sure kept quiet while following their buddy. A bellowing argument on the upper levels resulted in someone flinging a beer, other party ducking, and the bottle shattering against Trevor’s cage. That boy threw a fit, Benny’s ears are still ringing. Most other rowdiness is quickly halted by the presence of Benny's crew. Maybe some coked-up executive gets ballsy with his people egging him on, but once a bouncer or operative appears, they usually quiet down. 

That's the kind of background minutiae Benny handles, it's a dime a dozen and easy enough. But Lord do his hackles go up when Dean's out in the open. On the stages or making rounds, there are few others Benny trusts enough to watch over Dean if he can't be here. Just maybe there's a new one, too. 

When Dean slides over for a pose n’ drool, always working the audience up when seated here sipping through a straw, the tension around the table is palpable. Mmm, it tastes damn sweet, but Benny keeps that to himself for now. 

Tracing a finger around the high neck, Benny wants to bite right there and sure will later. “This dress always does something wild to me.”

Dean purrs right back, “Not just you, huh?”

Sure, Benny knows Dean's talking about the audience, but the way Cas chews through a mouthful of ice, well… yup, Benny’s gonna instigate. “The crowd’s bratty tonight, lots of nonsense.”

“I heard Trevor kicking shit back there.”

“Mmhmm, pissed that he's working the upper levels.”

Dean stretches his neck, giving the sexiest arch this world will ever be blessed with, “If he'd work on his choreography instead of just bitching, maybe he'd earn a better spot. Wouldn't take too much to get on-stage.”

There's a disgruntled noise, that'd be Cas. He catches himself and locks up all emoting, “Apologies, that was inappropriate.”

“Which is basically my middle name,” Dean’s flirty tone is not missed on any of them. “Spill.”

Cas shakes his head and looks away.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“It's nothing.”

Dean sinks his teeth in, “Enough for you to grumble. Dude, don't make me come over there.”

Well. 

Cas’ jaw is clenched and his eyelid is ticking like a countdown on a bomb. Yeah, that fits. But in a blink that all changes and those thick lips quirk, “I'm not scared of you.”

False lashes dropping as Dean narrows his eyes, the boy taps a red nail on his glass, “Cheeky fucker.”

“Honest fucker.”

Benny bites back a laugh and watches Dean's reaction. 

Licking his teeth ‘cause he's not about to mess up his lipstick, Dean nods, “Alright then, be honest.”

Cas tilts his head and fuck he's adorable, “Always.”

“Uh huh, just call you George.”

“What?”

“Y'know, Honest George.”

Benny sips his beer and watches the show.

Cas is all squinty now, “Curious George.”

“What? No! Freaking monkeys are never the answer.”

“George is an ape.”

“He eats bananas with his feet, that means monkey,” Dean's getting himself riled up.

“He has an appendix and no tail, that means ape.”

“So do I, you callin’ me an ape?”

“Oh, you certainly have a tail.”

Dean swirls his straw around his glass, “So you did notice?”

“I've honestly looked at little else.”

Oh, this is fun.

“Back to Honest George, just can't tell a lie.”

Cas shakes his head, “Are you referring to Honest Abe?”

“The vampire hunter? No! George Washington, c'mon!”

“What do vampires have to do with U.S. presidents?”

“So help me, Cas, you're gonna watch that movie. I'm talking about the first guy, wooden teeth, big nasty wig.”

“I have neither of those things, and what movie?”

“So help me,” Dean takes a long sip of his mixed drink. “The guy who cut down a cherry tree and couldn't lie about it.”

“That's a myth.”

“Were you there?”

“How old do you think I am, Dean?”

“Dunno, I’d say… middle triple digits.”

Oh so dry now, “Your charm does know bounds.”

“What's wrong, Georgie, feeling guilty for sacrilege?”

“Pray tell what I've desecrated?”

“The tree! Chop down one and it's a butterfly effect, wiping out untold millions of cherries that could’ve achieved the highest honor.”

Cas motions him on, but Dean pretends to be occupied with stabbing the cherry floating in his drink. So Cas finally grumbles, “This honor being…”

“Baked into a cherry pie,” and the boy pops the cherry between his teeth, stem poking out as he wiggles his delicate eyebrows.

Dead silence for a hot minute, then Cas turns right to Benny, “I've never been so tempted to spank someone.”

Benny chuckles, “Coming from you, damn, Blue.”

Dean has the bone deep audacity to pout. He tilts his head, Benny kissing his cheek, then the wild thing uncurls to his feet and places a hand on the table. “If you think cats get your tongue all knotted, try me,” and swishes his fine ass away. 

Sure, Bennys eyes are locked onto that tail, mmm, but the Angel’s staring at the table. Well, would you look at that, Dean left a token. A perfectly knotted cherry stem.

And there's a growl, “How the fuck do you survive this?”

“Man,” Benny laughs into his hand, scrubbing his beard, “some days I'm not sure I did. But that boy’s heaven, so I'm gonna keep chopping heads through purgatory ‘til I'm right there with him.”

“In most other scenarios, with anyone but you, I'd take that as figurative.”

“Mmhmm, let's say I'm a bit possessive.”

“Protective.”

Benny nods, pleased, “And some. Looks like your own streaks are showing.” 

Those big eyes darted to the table and back, “I'm unsure how to correctly express them.”

“Just let it out. Don't bite back words, thoughts, so much better out than in.”

“Perhaps,” the pretty Angel studies the room around them, “though it feels so foreign. It is. Fuck,” polishing off his iceless water. 

Benny snags a passing server, refills of all types are needed. Keeping an eye on Dean and another on Cas' really isn't that hard; he just has to look at Cas ‘cause those eyes are locked on the sweet cherry in heels. Which just raises six kinds of warmth through Benny's chest and damn, he's as sure of this as he was when seeing Dean for the first time. But he also knows when not to poke, so he settles into idle, companionable conversations. 

And when Cas mentions the private sessions for the third time, Benny just levels a stare at him. Cerulean eyes narrow, sexy man looking all boss and damn Benny wants to crawl under this table. Oh Cas knows it, that brow arched sharper than knife. 

“Ha! Aw, Blue, I'm feeling you torn right now.”

“Hmm, I checked you rather thoroughly, Benny.”

“Sure did,” and there's Benny’s ass clenching around his plug. “But time and place.”

Cas snickers and tugs at his tie, “Go ahead then, call me out.”

“I was going to, but it sounds like you're doing it to yourself.”

“Yeah, maybe. It's against my nature to run from a problem. I truly don't know what to do, but I must do something.”

“What would you do with anyone else?”

“Not this.”

That felt good, Benny lets it soak in, then, “What about in a strictly business relationship? How do you close that gap?”

“I buy them out.”

Benny cracks up and can't resist scooping Cas’ hand to laugh against it for a second, “Ruthless bastard.”

“On a good day,” there's a tinge of pink on those cheeks. “Those are pedantic, I waste no finesse on rote work.”

“Dunno about that. I seem to remember a slick suit asking for a private conversation, so we wouldn't be interrupted.”

“Manners are ingrained in me.”

“Uh huh, ingrained in teaching me mine.”

“You were rather blunt with your request.”

“I don't beat around the bush, got plenty of better uses for my time and energy.”

“And I was ridiculously intrigued.” Cas leans forward, his lips just inches from their clasped hands, “You chinked my armor.”

“Fuck, Blue, I felt that to my toes.”

Ah, those brows pinch for a second, “What did–? Oh. That was my own… blunt honesty.”

“Keep it up, that's better than any practiced poetry.” Benny gives a light laugh, “Wow.”

And the thrills keep coming ‘cause this Angel lifts their hands and plants a kiss right there. It's a slow-motion moment so Benny saw the flash of uncertainty in those big eyes, the curve as thick lips parted, and the bob of Cas’ Adam's apple on the way up. What he didn't see but sure as hell felt was the arc of lightning that sizzled from that spot on his mangled, perpetually-swollen knuckle all the way to his soul.

Throat dry as this desert, Benny hears his hoarse tone, “Yeah, you just… do that. Cas.”

Cas is staring, “That was terrifying. And incredible.”

“Oh, I'll vote for the latter.” Giving Cas’ hand a final squeeze, he has to let go now or he might not. Grabbing his beer to parch the sands, “Now imagine how good a second round of that honesty will feel.”

The guy curses under his breath and that's some expressive vocabulary. He, too, chases it down with a drink, then, “The difficult part is the terror.”

“Sure. Fear is good, fear keeps you sharp, and keeps those who should be afraid,” motioning at the surrounding crowds, “terrified. Everyone's got armor.”

“And you are Dean's. Instilling the fear and keeping it alive, which keeps Dean safe to be unafraid.”

“Yup, nothing’s breaking past.”

“And yet you're pushing me–.”

“Cas, I'm inviting you in. There's a helluva difference.”

Those sapphires blaze on him and it's like being noticed by a star. Not a celebrity, a full, incomprehensibly bright blast of ancient, otherworldly power. Gone in a flash, Cas’ eyes are squeezed tight and he's carding at his hair, looking adorable all tousled. “You mean that.”

Benny just nods.

“Thank you, darling, I,” there's another pause, this time Cas just looks rocked, which Benny can sympathize with. “Does he want that?”

“That's where talking comes in again. I can and will speak for my babyboy on damn near anything else, but not this. Don't you want to hear the word yourself?”

Cas laughs,  “Asking for consent to scene is infinitely easier.”

“Good thing you're a brave Angel.”

It's a low mumble but Benny caught it, “Pray for me.” 

The buzz is right on time, Benny checking his phone for the message from Dean. “Work night’s just about over. C'mon.” 

Maybe he should've asked but Cas doesn't protest, so it's a win. Through the door held open by an operative, Benny already feels more relaxed without the horde around them. Dancers and staff nod or say hi in passing, everyone moving quick on the prime nights. But he pauses halfway down the dancers’ hallway, singing when he hears the sheer volume.

Cas elbows him, “No one saw us, we can hide in your office.”

“Ha! This is the other kind of fear. Fuck.” He pushes on, rapping against the open doorway to the big dressing room. A couple minutes are spent listening to both sides of a stupid squabble, letting the high strung newbies get it out. Then drops his verdict, ending with, “If I hear of anyone trying to trip someone, you won't be walking these halls ever again. Got it?”

Pulling the door shut behind them, Benny shakes his head, “No matter the age or group, some people are just brats.”

“Would it be beneficial to have a sort of, ah, schoolmarm?”

“We do, for all her quirks Becky keeps the cattiness down. Find me another like her, I'll hire ‘em today.”

“Oddly enough, I may know someone.”

“You're full of surprises, Feathers,” and knocks on Dean’s door, waits a tick and heads on in. “Darlin'.”

“Hey, babe,” Dean's at his vanity, removing his makeup. Every fine bit glows in the lights, gems at his nipples and belly, slick crossed legs down to bare feet, so ripe for some nibbling. “Did you hear the bitch fest?”

“It'd be hard to. Tell me you didn't stick a finger in there.”

“Silly Papa, I only finger my pie when you tell me to.”

Benny rolls his eyes and Cas covers a laugh, both seen by Dean's sharp eyes. 

And the boy gives a jab at Cas, “Not getting the reference?”

“Mmm, I got it, just” Cas shakes his head, “low hanging fruit.”

Up comes Dean, raising his arms up and clasping his hands, “You've seen me hanging, Cas, really think this is low?”

This banter is damn addicting, Benny’s more than happy to listen while getting right to unlacing Dean's kit. Maybe he rubs across Dean's taut belly and tugs the jewel there a bit more than necessary, but he's a man who enjoys the fine things, and undressing Dean is one of the finest.

“Perhaps I should see it again, that just may raise my opinion.”

“So now it's about what you like?” That squirm was all Dean’s doing and felt fantastic as Benny flicks another set of ribbons free.

Cas keeps it up, his tone deeper and no doubt those strong fingers are itching to correct the boy, “It's possible that my preferences are more malleable now than ever.”

“Hands like that, bet you could touch anything just right. Not that I'd know.”

Eyes following the last of the laces to the floor and clearly working back up Dean's body, Cas looks hungry, “But you could.”

Dean shrugs his glowing shoulders, now only in his red thong and tail, “Maybe you could.” That tone was low, thick, minus the lilting flirty tease.

Now they're getting somewhere, but when both gorgeous men just stare at one another, it might be a stalemate. Benny can prompt this, giving Dean's hip a faint squeeze and pat that means keep going.

As ever, Dean dives into the deep end head first, “I like you, Cas. A lot.”

Here come those star beams again, Cas’ chest rising sharply for a moment, “I like you, too, Dean. You are firmly in my favorite top two.”

Oh, Dean's not the only one who shivered right there, it's another firebomb from a devastating Angel. But the sweet man manages a whisper, “You mean that?”

“Entirely.”

“Not just, y'know, for our lifestyles.”

“For everything, because of you,” eyes flickering between Dean and Benny. “This is entirely new territory but I want to see.”

Dean turns those shimmery gems to Benny, his beautiful flush so telling, “Benny?”

“Open horizons, cher.”

“Yeah,” he reaches for Benny’s hand and slides closer to the Angel, “Kiss me, Cas.”

He does, the two coming together for a moment that's seared into Benny's memory. They don't touch, just lips, but having been there for both sides, he knows it packs a punch. 

“It's so weird…” Dean trails off.

Obviously Cas steps back, face freezing and hardening by the second.

Benny tugs Dean's hand, “What is?”

“Had a feeling… Oh! Shit, no, man, not weird like that,” Dean caught up with his own tongue. And tripped over it again, “Sure, weird not feeling Benny’s beard but not a bad weird. Fuck, can I start over?”

“Of course, Dean, would it be easier if I drape myself over the guillotine? I would prefer a clean slice.”

“Sassy Cas again!” Dean sounds an inch from ducking behind teasing again. He clears his throat, “I'm sorry.”

Cas licks his own lips, eyes squeezing for a moment before nodding.

“What's that feeling, baby?”

“Ah, just that I kinda imagined Cas would taste like a crisp red apple.”

Benny laughs and a second later, so does Cas. 

“But I was wrong. You're like,” and here is bold Dean, crowding the Angel now, “juicy apple simmered with cinnamon and bourbon. I want another taste.”

The boy gets it, giving a decadent moan rivaled by some real pretty sounds from Cas. When they part, Benny’s dying for a taste of both. And with the look on those sapphires, so is Cas.

Offering himself to the Angel, Benny soars under those demanding lips that have a hint of honey right there. When given a moment to breathe, he tugs Dean down to lap across sweet cupid's bows. Then Dean turns right back to Cas, trembling while licking. This is a whole new tier of heaven. 

Cas breaks it off first, eyes wild and voice rumbling, “Extraordinary.”

“Yeah, Blue, fuck you're potent.”

“What Papa said.”

The Angel chuckles and takes another step back, “I'm questioning my grasp on reality.”

“Seeing is believing,” there's a tantalizing roll of hips as Dean followed that step, “but you seem like a hands on guy.”

Cas’ nostrils flare, just badass to the core, “I prefer to be.”

“So go on.”

Oh, the big guy's coiled and Benny could swear  there's a rustle of wings, this Angel's got a dragon inside. But he's stronger than that best, Cas reins it in when looking at Benny, the question clearly.

Benny smiles, “Dean’s call.”

And Dean says his words, “Touch me, Cas.”

Unsure what to expect and just knowing whatever happens will be monumental, Benny sees Dean's breath hitch when Cas cups his cheek. Sees Cas’ lips part while rubbing a thumb across Dean's freckles. Watches the other hand slide behind Dean's neck while emeralds shine and golden fingers reach to circle Cas’ bronzed wrist. Doesn't blink as the men kiss. It's light, barely more than a few brushes and yet has them all breathing harder than during the near-frenzy. 

“So lovely, sweetheart,” Cas places a kiss right at the corner of Dean's lips. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, you, um,” Dean's just blinking now. 

“I should go. I'm,” Cas cards his messy hair, “so sorry for how your day started. And I am selfishly elated with how mine ended. Please call me if you need anything.”

“Promise, Blue,” Benny hums when those lips grace him for a second. “Night.”

Quick steps towards the door, sapphires burn on them again, “Good night.”

Pulling Dean with him to be daybed, Benny drops and wraps an arm around as Dean scoots across his lap. Coconut fills his senses, nose buried in Dean's hair as they center themselves. 

Dean recovers quicker, “I loved that.”

“Same.”

“Didn't expect him to be so, I dunno, sweet.”

“There's a lot to that gorgeous man.”

“Huh, yeah,” Dean gives a low laugh, “I said something like that earlier. Was this too much? If he's freaking out or–.”

“Shh, c'mere,” Benny rubs along Dean's back and across a knee. “Some nudges and a firm push or two helped, but I'm thinking he needs to sort through some things.”

“Like we're doing. Benny, he's gonna do that alone?”

“Maybe for now, but I'm hoping not for good.”

“Alone is the worst.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Maybe,” it ends there, Dean's hedging. 

Tilting that pretty chin up and waiting for Dean to meet his eyes, Benny encourages him, “Say anything.”

“We can show him that together is better. Fuck, what am I saying?”

“Your truth, sweet Dean, and I'm all in.”

“Awesome! Okay, let's go home, we've got reading to do.”

Paused by the sudden energy from these long limbs, Benny curiously watches as Dean removes his tail and panties. All today's garments are in the hamper, Dean shimmying into leggings and a tee. 

“Babe, what's up? Let's go.”

“Yeah, what reading?”

“Research! Gotta find all the lore, modern and ancient, scour the Kindle store. Huh, may need to hit the actual library. Wait, are those still anything?”

“I'm pretty sure libraries are still a thing.”

“That's weird. Can't really clean a book, no Windex or Lysol, shit would just smear.”

“Boy!” Benny spins those slim hips until Dena faces him, “What're we looking for?”

“Anything that tells us how to show an Angel that it's okay to be human.”

“Fuck,” he snags a kiss, “you're perfect, darlin'.”

“Damn right, babe, 100% Grade-A human right here. And this,” slim hands run around Benny's waist, “is The Stud, the epitome of BAMF.”

“The things you say, mmm.”

“Love you, Papa.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite thing you say. I love you to the stars, babyboy.”

Chapter Text

Sweat pours down every surface, his heart is pounding as he gasps for breath. Jelly muscles tremble while stumbling towards the stairs. Aw, fuck, stairs! Dean's thighs quiver, calves ache and it takes real elbow grease to haul himself up the Florli Stairs. Why the hell did he think installing his workout pole in the basement was a good idea? Hard enough climbing the carpeted staircase after some drinks or good bud, but after 90 minutes of grueling practice… shit. Halfway up he pauses to suck down some oxygen and toys with shouting for Benny in the garage. His stud would tease Dean but those big arms would scoop him right up and carry him all the way to their shower. But… he can do this. Ugh.

Fuck, he made it! And there's a second flight of stairs. He can't. 

Relying on the walls to hold his weight, Dean bites back a whimper and drags himself to the kitchen. Snagging a cold water bottle, he's running on fumes while aiming for a new non-vertical goal. Somehow he makes it through the patio door and painstakingly into the blazing heat of a Nevada summer afternoon. This is when his legs give out and he free falls, all-but faceplanting on a chaise. Oh this is good, he can just stop now. Sun beating down on his exhausted body, a faint breeze buffeting the beads of sweat everywhere. What was he thinking?

Deep and firm pressure pulls him from the cozy dozing. Now we're talking. Well, moaning is the best Dean can do, but it relayed.

“Baby, what'd you do?”

“Just,” he swipes at the puddle of drool under his cheek, “had to get it right.”

“Which one?”

“Deathly Hallows.”

There's a low curse as Benny massages into Dean's hamstrings, a mix of painful and heavenly but so necessary to recover. “I thought those were omitted for a reason.”

“Need ‘em, working on a new routine.”

“Those are wicked for a reason.”

The nap gave him enough energy to complain, pushing back with, “Roxy’s using a Meridian in his routine.”

“Sure, and he's seven inches shorter and weighs a buck n’ quarter, got physics on his side.”

Dean huffs, “Well I've got stubbornness.”

“Sure do, in spades. Show me where.”

Sleep does wonders for a sore body, but doesn't hold a candle to Benny’s hands. These paws cover everything just right, kneading out knots and stimulating circulation. Stimulating something else, too, that's a given. When he's rolled to his back and Benny starts working from his shoulders down, yeah, Dean's cock is nice and happy. Nope, he knows he's not getting off right now, but a man can enjoy being pampered by his boyfriend. And the occasional drag of fingers over his boyshorts is just a welcome tease. 

Benny tugs him to sit up, cracking the water bottle, “Pretty warm now, but finish it.”

Not a drop is spared, all guzzled to replace the copious sweat, and Dean feels so much better. “You're the best, babe.”

“For you, cher.”

Eyeing his stud, Dean can't help the extra shiver, this guy is so freaking hot. Poking at Benny's swole chest, he coos, “Bet you put a hole through that speed bag.”

There's that soft chuckle, “Oh and some.”

“Working out your frustration, too?”

“Yeah,” but there's concern in those pretty eyes, “Not just the new set, huh?”

Dean shrugs, “All of it, I guess. Definitely gave me a 7th wind or something.”

Benny moves closer until their foreheads are touching, clasping each other's neck, “It won't always be like this, baby. It doesn't have to be.”

“I know. But shit’s crazy right now n’ I want to be involved. We're partners, Benny.”

“More than. You're my soul.”

Right back to melted but for the best of reasons, Dean closes his eyes, so safe right here. 

When they separate, bless Benny for offering a hand to help Dean to his feet. The warrior had his own workout and is still putting Dean's needs first. Which leads to the standard lump in his throat, the one that forms ‘cause Dean is used to feeling cherished but never doesn't appreciate it. 

Each chugs more water before Benny carries Dean to their bedroom, only teasing twice. Showering together is one of the best things about their off-work days. Yeah, wet n’ slippery is fun, but more than that it’s visceral. Even plugging each other after is hovering right there, something they share together. Blackout curtains drawn, fan always on and they're snuggled up on the cool sheets for a real nap. 

Since Dean wakes first, he repays Benny for the killer post-workout massage. With his mouth. Grinning wide with a bellyful of cum and puffy lips, he's feeling awesome. After a quick top-only bake in the tanning bed to even out after his siesta in the sun, he's slipping his favorite yellow sundress on and attaching the chestnut tail. Dean is recharged and ready for the next phase of their Sundays. 

Benny’s already prepping in the kitchen, just pointing to what Dean should tackle. Meals before Bleib are carefully planned, no bulky foods for obvious reasons. From the smell of this mojito lime marinade, it's going to be freaking delicious, too. Eyeing his stud dicing apples for the salad, Dean’s mind goes right to the same place it's been sliding to a lot lately.

“Go on, boy, get it out.”

“I didn't want to say this, but I think it's time,” Dean drops the whisk, draws a deep breath. “I'm signing you up for a 900 number.”

“I'm not the marketable half, but I'm listening.”

“It'll be easy, I promise. You just sit there and be you.”

“Hmm, that sounds more like your kinda thing.”

Sure, Dean's nipples perk up at that, his wild Dom loves to leave Easter eggs before putting on a show. Focus, Winchester. “Nah, you're the pro at this one. Phone rings, you answer it. And I mean old school phone, like with a curly cord n’ everything. Shake some folks, rake in the moolah at $4.99 per minute.”

“Sure, am I scandalizing them?”

“Nah, you're the new Miss Cleo. Ha, call you Mr. Leo!”

“So I'm a charlatan now.”

“You're a freaking psychic. Always know what I'm thinking even when I don't. It'd be insanely selfish of me to keep this all to myself.”

Benny’s chuckle is just the best, “Oh I'm yours, but if you're in the mindset for sharing, I can think of one better than the rest of the world.”

And Dean is right back to chewing on his lip, “Dammit, how d'you do that? Shit, no, you're Professor X! Ha, won't be long now and your hair–.”

A wooden salad fork is aimed at Dean with a growl of, “Finish that and I'm using this on your ass.”

Giving a shrug, Dean pouts, “So sensitive, should save that for your dial a psychic shift.”

“I just know you, doll!, and right now I know you're itching to see him.”

Cool, Dean's body decides to blush, just going crimson in a flash.

“Hey,” Benny moves in to cup Dean's elbows, “none of that, cher. We're going this together which means you can be you, I've gotchu.”

“I know, Papa, just… swear I'm gonna wear this word out, it's weird. Like thinking about him is cheating on you and I’d cut off my own balls before doing that.”

“Every word I've said is honest, and I never doubt you. But you talking sure helps.”

“Yeah, I guess. Maybe you should text him or something.”

Lips press against Dean's cheek, then, “Partners, Dean.”

“Fuck. What'm I supposed to say?”

“Anything you want.”

This takes a full rounding up of all Dean's courage, “Maybe he could come over for lunch.”

“That's a mighty fine offer,” and the big guy just goes right back to dicing. 

Since his courage is already awake, Dean moves quickly, a thumb flying over his phone for a second before he loses the internal gusto. He taps send. Fuck.

Hey  

Sweating for the third time today, he abandons the marinade and reaches for his lemonade. Two gulps down and there's a buzz.

Hello, Dean.

“Oh my god, why does he say it like that?”

Benny glances over with raised eyebrows.

“My name! Even like this,” holding up his phone, “I can hear it.”

“I'm a big fan, swear I'm throbbing every time that Angel says Dean,” and that's a close enough mimic to have Dean gulping.

D: If you're bored or something, you're welcome to chill over here

C: That's kind, thank you.

“What does that mean? Is he coming or what?”

“Baby, just ask.”

Dammit.

D: We're just making lunch now. Benny's kabobs are 👌

D: Could throw some on the grill for you

D: Or not

D: No pressure 

D: There's fruit salad and other stuff too

C: What should I bring?

Stomach doing acrobatics, Dean holds the screen up to Benny, “What should I say?”

“Whatever you want.”

“It's not fair,” Dean grumbles, “this is so easy when Kiyaya’s in the driver’s seat.”

“You're deep, sweetheart, and every dimension is gorgeous. I love how you're bold even while blushing, so fierce,” Benny nips his lip.

D: Lemons

D: Thanks

C: Alright. I'll be there shortly.

“Proper punctuation and everything. He is terrifying,” Dean feels winded.

“Ah, babe, you’re fuckin’ adorable.”

In that bizarre flux space yet again, Dean savors the calm warmth of their routine and Benny’s wrap-around presence, and totally dwells on the icy terror of new. When his omniscient partner brings up baseball, let’s just say that was the perfect distraction. They laugh, argue, throw barbs, finally agree on making it to at least three more games this summer. So when the doorbell rings, Dean feels confident enough to actually turn to open it… and freezes. A firm swat on his ass propels him the rest of the way.

Maybe he gulps a few times and fluffs his tail for a second while staring at the grey wood of the door for several breaths, no one has to know. He pulls it open and refuses to acknowledge what he sees, shoving out words instead, “Hey.” Okay, one word.

But Cas also says very little. Actually… dude is staring. Then, “Hey.”

“Ah, right,” he steps back, swinging the door wider and shoving it closed behind Cas’ really sexy ass. “Must’ve been bored, right?”

From all like 15 inches away, there’s that head tilt, “Why would you assume that?”

“Um, ‘cause you actually came over.”

“Oh, you sweet boy, the G7 Summit couldn’t dissuade me.”

Okay, Dean knows what that is ‘cause of peripheral hearing – is that a thing? – but the meaning is not lost. A shiver of silkiness runs up his spine, lifting his chin, “Pff, world leaders are so stuffy. Bet they don’t know something real if it slaps them in the face.”

“Mmm, I agree, there are much more appetizing delicacies to enjoy.”

Cool, shivering and sweating, it’s like having the flu minus the vomiting and grossness. Which is kinda screwed up ‘cause Dean has this insane urge to… Tossing a middle finger to his insipid brain, Dean turns heel towards the kitchen, “Grill’s fired up, won’t take long.”