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Dean couldn’t care less about the old book lying open on the desk in front of him; he barely even knew what it was about, too distracted by trying to stop from humping the hard wood above him.

Any minute now, and he’d have company, and he couldn’t wait.

The doors to the bedroom slammed open hard enough to dent the walls, and Dean rolled his eyes at his melodramatic angel.

“That,” Cas snapped, as he strode towards Dean, “was inappropriate.”

Dean didn’t even look up, but pushed his will at the doors, and closed them quietly over.

Locked them up tight as well.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Cas.”

Cas made a gesture with his hand, and the book slammed shut, nearly clipping Dean’s nose in the process, balancing on its spine for a moment before it went flying across the room and straight back to its place on the bookshelf.

“Show off,” Dean muttered.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Cas went on, as if Dean hadn’t said anything. “I don’t need any more problems with the demons, and you...doing that in front of them is just asking for trouble.”

Dean got onto his feet. “Doing what, Cas? Doing this?”

He crowded the angel’s space, pushed him back against one of the four stout pillars erected throughout the room, and caught hold of his jaw, tilting Cas’s head to the side so he could kiss his way along that sharp bone and up to nip at his ear.

Cas hissed angrily, and pushed him away. “Yes, that. They already think I’m fair game, here, Dean. You treating me like that…. It doesn’t help.”

Dean felt his eyes flare to black. “You love it and you know it.”

Cas folded his arms. “Do I? I think you overestimate your charm.”

He turned on his heel, storming towards the doors, and grunted in annoyance when they didn’t immediately open.

“Dean. Let me out.”

“Thought you were worried about all those big, nasty demons out there.”

“Their refusal to follow orders,” Cas clarified. “Which could have consequences if we’re ever in a situation.”

We’re in a situation right now,” Dean said, stalking towards Cas.

Cas took a couple of steps away from the door. “Dean,” he said, warningly.

Dean grinned at him. “Cas.”

He didn’t telegraph his move, but all the same when he lunged at Cas, the angel just spun out of the way, leaving him to stumble face first into the door.

Snarling, Dean rounded on him again, and then something hard hit him in the middle of the back, knocking him to his knees.

He looked around, ready to kill whoever had dared, but the same book he was reading earlier was now lying on the floor.

Cas was glaring down at him, and Dean got back onto his feet.

“Sneaky angel,” he said. “You know I’m going to have to punish you for that one, Cas.”

Cas didn’t look at all concerned, which just made Dean all the more determined to have that angel pinned down and begging.

This time, when he closed on Cas, there were no fancy Grace tricks. Cas met him in kind, driving his shoulder into Dean’s chest and forcing him back, off balance, and then punching him hard enough to spin him around and send him thumping into a pillar.

Dean spat out the blood welling into his mouth, and grinned.

“Oh, you want it rough.”

“Have you considered I don’t want it at all?”

“Not really, angel. You might say that, but look at you. Your body’s telling me something different. Course, if you can get out of the room, I guess you really weren’t in the mood, huh.”

Cas muttered something that sounded like ridiculous under his breath, and then Dean was on him again, ramming into him like a bull, head and shoulders down, winding the angel and letting his momentum heave Cas up off his feet.

He dumped Cas onto the bed and followed him down, pinning his wrists to the bed and using his body weight to hold him in place.

Cas growled and fought, but angels operating on half Grace with a waning Heaven above their heads couldn’t really hold out against a Knight of Hell.

All the same, Dean let him struggle. It was one of the biggest turn ons, watching Cas exhaust himself, when they both knew it wouldn’t make any damn difference at all.

When the angel was reduced to a panting furious mess beneath him, eyes narrowed, hair all over the place, Dean grinned down at him.

“Got that out of your system?”

He shifted his mass in time to avoid Cas’s knee colliding with its intended target, and chuckled.

“Oh, and I was going to be gentle, Cas. But now…”

He muttered the word under his breath, and both his and Cas’s clothes melted away leaving them bare naked.

“Get off me,” Cas demanded, but Dean just reached down to shut the angel up with a kiss.

He loved the muffled protests as he slipped his tongue into Cas’s mouth, that tingle of Grace he could almost taste, and he spent a few moments leisurely just claiming.

When he was done, he pulled back to see Cas was panting for completely different reasons.

“Careful,” Dean teased. “Anybody might think you want it.”

Cas huffed up at him. “Anybody might think you’re entirely too sure of yourself.”

Dean shrugged. “And?”

He switched to holding Cas’s wrists with one hand, and reached up for the scarf he’d draped over the headboard when he was waiting for Cas to storm in.

Oh, he fought Dean flipping him over, fought the scarf being looped around his wrists and knotted tight, but it didn’t even slow Dean down.

When he lay down again over the angel, Cas’s bound hands trapped between their bodies, he whispered into the angel’s ear.

“By the time I’m done, you’re gonna be screaming so loud they’ll think I’m killing you in here.”

“Dean, I mean it. Let go.”

Dean stared into the angel’s eyes, and waited. But that was all Cas said, and so he kissed him once more, just the merest brush of lips, before he decided to start with the punishment his mouthy angel was certainly overdue.

He snapped his fingers, and his belt appeared in his hands, and Cas flinched, tried to pull away.

“Dean, don’t.”

“Should of thought about that,” Dean said. He kept one hand pinned to the small of Cas’s back, and stroked the leather over the angel’s ass. “But now you can think about just how red you’re gonna look down here. How you’re gonna be bruised, for days, because you know I’m not gonna let you heal them up, Cas. Gonna make you wear them.”

“Dean, please!”

But for all he writhed and fought, it didn’t stop Dean delivering twenty hard impacts, the leather smacking loud against Cas’s skin.

He stayed stubbornly silent for the first ten, but after that Dean figured he’d started to really feel it. As they reached fifteen, he was actively begging again, and it was music to Dean’s ears, and certain other parts of his anatomy.

When he hit twenty, he tossed the belt side, and grabbed handfuls of Cas’s bright red asscheeks, feeling how hot the flesh was.

Cas whimpered, tried to pull away, but Dean held on, squeezing harder until Cas half screamed at him to let go.

He did, and let the angel slump flat again, breathing hard.

Grinning, Dean planted a kiss to each swollen globe, drawing a guttural curse from Cas in his native tongue.

“I’ll wash your mouth out if you keep that up,” Dean said.

Then he grabbed hold of Cas’s wrists, yanked him up and onto his knees, just the right angle for what came next.

“No, stop!”

Dean leaned forward, and locked his teeth around the meat of Cas’s shoulder, digging in, breaking skin and leaving a mark he knew Cas would be wearing for days.

“I don’t think you really want me to stop, Cas. But even if you do…”

He breached Cas hard, glad that demon powers included instant lube, and drew a startled cry out of him.

Cas tried to pull free, but Dean just used his grip on the angel’s bound hands to pull him back harder, making each thrust deeper, and, sure enough, Cas came screaming his name.

He slumped forward, head almost touching the mattress, as Dean finished up, and then collapsed forward, pinning the angel beneath him.

He could feel Cas’s body heaving beneath his, and he stroked a hand down the angel’s flank.

“You’re heavy,” Cas complained, after a moment. “Get off.”

Dean planted a kiss to the bite mark he’d made. “Make me.”

“Poughkeepsie.”

Dean pushed himself up fast, and quickly undid the scarf around Cas’s wrists, turning him carefully onto his back.

“Okay, okay, I got you, Cas. You alright?

Cas smiled up at him. “Now you’re not crushing me into the mattress.”

Dean poked him playfully in the side, making the angel squirm away and glare at him.

The fact that the celestial seraph, former captain of a heavenly garrison, was ticklish was something Dean would forever be thankful for.

For one thing, it gave him an edge sometimes when they were play fighting, and it was also a good way to bring his angel out of the doldrums when that happened.

He offered a chaste kiss as an apology, and Cas accepted, and snuggled down into Dean’s arms.

“I was serious about the other demons, though,” he said, quietly, tracing his fingers over the anti-possession tattoo still marked on Dean’s skin. Not much good when Dean was changed, not possessed, but he was too attached to bother with removing it.

Dean stroked his fingers through Cas’s hair. “I didn’t know.”

Cas half shrugged against him, as if maybe it didn’t really matter.

But it did. This was their home now, Sam on the throne and they making sure he stayed there, that no one rocked the boat, while they tried to find a way to fix Heaven and track down Amara to see if she might once again take on her brother.

This time to save Earth, instead of to destroy it.

He was not going to let anyone make Cas feel like he didn’t have a place here, or make him feel disrespected and unsafe.

“No,” Cas said, as if he was reading Dean’s thoughts. “I can fight my own battles, Dean, just…. Don’t add fuel to the fire.”

Dean kissed Cas’s forehead, snapped his fingers, and the blanket at the end of the bed stretched out over them.

“Okay,” he said.

Cas could take care of himself.

But if those demons weren’t careful….

Dean looked up to where the first blade hung dark and hungry on the wall above their heads.

Nobody hurt his family.

Protecting them would always be his job, and being once more a Knight of Hell wasn’t going to change that.