Castiel was a warrior, and Dean tended to forget that. Between his big blue eyes and his awkwardly crumpled clothes, he didn’t exactly look like he could go all heavenly wrath on anyone. He could only forget, though, in normal, everyday life, not once they were alone and the clothes were coming off and the angry sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Once they were alone, Dean was small, and unimportant, and - in a twist that thoroughly galled him – completely submissive, and Castiel had all the power.
“Cas, please,” he begged, nails digging into his palms as he tightened his hands around the bedposts, a drip of sweat from his nose falling onto the off-white sheets beneath him – not that he could see the color of the sheets, or anything at all, thanks to the strip of dark blue silk knotted behind his head, blocking his sight. Only Castiel got to blind Dean like this. Only Castiel got to have him this vulnerable.
Castiel gripped his hips and thrust forward, cock splitting Dean open, and Dean moaned unashamedly and spread his knees just a little more. He was rock hard and aching, desperate for Castiel to fuck him so hard he saw stars. “Please, Cas,” he repeated, pushing back against the angel, trying to take him just a little deeper. “Please, shit, please.”
“What is it you need, Dean?” the bastard asked, voice low and tinged with amusement. He barely withdrew before pushing slowly back in, small, teasing movements of his hips designed to get Dean whimpering and begging again.
“Need you,” Dean groaned. “You know, stop playing.”
“I’m not playing anything,” Castiel replied innocently. His hands ran up Dean’s sides, back down over the spur of his hips, fingertips tantalizingly close to Dean’s dick but not touching. Dean made a small sound of protest and canted his hips forward in an effort to get contact.
“Cas,” he whined, and Cas laughed.
“You can be very needy,” he chided as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts, Dean sighing in pleasure with finally getting what he wanted, the sigh turning into a moan when Castiel wrapped a long palm around his cock and began to jack him more or less in time with his thrusts.
Dean came first. Dean always came first, and Castiel always followed with his lips pressed to the back of Dean’s neck, filling the condom that Dean insisted they use even though they really didn’t need it, considering that Castiel had nothing he could give Dean, and there was nothing Dean had that Castiel could catch, but he humored Dean, and Dean appreciated it.
It certainly made it a lot easier to clean up after, and faster, and quick clean up meant a short wait before Castiel crawled onto the bed beside a fucked out, sprawled out Dean and carefully untied the blindfold.
“Cas?” Dean muttered against Castiel’s lips as they traded slow, lazy kisses.
“Mm?” Castiel hummed.
“You think I might get to top next time?” Dean asked, and although Castiel’s cryptic chuckle wasn’t an answer, Dean decided that he was totally okay with any answer Castiel might be willing to give.