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Beelzebub: Faustus, we are come from hell in person to shew thee some pastime: sit down, and thou shalt behold the Seven Deadly Sins appear to thee in their own proper shapes and likeness.
Faustus: That sight will be as pleasant unto me, As Paradise was to Adam the first day Of his creation.
- The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus, Christopher Marlowe.
Dean is, understandably, quite pissed off when he realizes that not only has he been separated from his brother and Castiel, but he's also been trapped in a corner of an empty room in the run-down warehouse by seven demons.
Not just any demons, no. The Seven Deadly Sins. Again.
"Didn't we kill you guys already?" Dean demands, stalling for time.
"Banished us," replies Lust. "Not quite the same thing as kill."
"But seeing as you're a bit lazy about following up on your work, that works out well for us," Sloth smirks.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Awesome. So you gonna possess me, do your demon shit? 'cos I gotta say, after forty years in Hell? I'm kinda over it."
"No, we're not going to do anything to you." Greed is smirking as well. "We're going to do something to..."
"...someone you care about. A lot." Envy purrs.
"Leave Sam alone!" Dean's voice is sharp.
"He still doesn't get it, does he?" Gluttony licks his lips. "You will, though."
"See, it's not your brother we were thinking of," Pride regards Dean with a raptor's glare.
"Nope. It was," and Wrath is practically bouncing with glee, "your angel."
Dean goes cold. "No fucking way," he snarls. "Leave him alone."
"Too late, kiddo," Pride grins now. "Too late." The demons vanish, laughing, just as Sam and Castiel burst into the room with a crash of broken wood and steel.
"Dean?" Sam rushes to him. "You okay, man?"
"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine." Dean is looking at Castiel though, but the angel seems the same as always – inscrutable expression, hands in the pockets of his trench coat. He turns back to his brother. "We should get the fuck out of here."
Sam nods, and he and Dean move towards Castiel. "Cas?"
The angel looks at Dean curiously. "Yes, Dean?"
"Are you..." Dean isn't quite sure what to say.
"I will follow you." And Castiel vanishes with a faint rustle of feathers.
"Always freaks me out a bit when he does that," Sam shakes his head. "Let's get back to the motel."
Dean doesn't argue.
*~*~*~*
Sam's gone off to do some research, having listened with growing concern as Dean told him of his encounter with the Seven Deadly Sins. Dean doesn't volunteer to go with him, saying instead that he'd better be ready in case Castiel showed up hungry, horny and god only knew what else. Sam had nodded, eyes going a little wild and hadn't offered to help. Dean was annoyed by that, even more so when he heard Sam drive off in the Impala. Great. Effectively trapped in a small room, waiting for a potentially cursed angel. Just fucking awesome.
When Castiel does show up, Dean's gone from pissed to worried. He's pacing the room and turns, letting out a squawk of surprise as he sees Castiel is suddenly there. "Cas, you okay?"
Castiel is frowning. No, scratch that. Castiel is scowling.
"Um. Cas?"
"You are alone." It isn't a question.
"Yeah and it's just you an' me." Dean sits down on the edge of his bed. "What's up? You look pissed."
"I am...displeased."
"About? Wait, look, tell me later. Listen, the Seven Deadly Sins cornered me, and they said they were gonna hit you with their sinful mojo, so..."
Castiel has moved to the tiny fridge containing last night's Chinese leftovers, pulls out the box, and starts eating with his fingers. Dean just stares at him.
"Dude. You don't need to eat!"
Castiel just gives him one of those 'well, duh,' looks but continues eating. Dean frowns, gets up and crosses the room, takes the carton from Castiel's hands and set it aside.
"Cas, listen to me. You got whammied. This isn't you."
Castiel quirks an eyebrow and considers Dean's words. "Hm. And what is me, Dean? You would wish that I just sit idly by and twiddle my thumbs and meekly do whatever you ask?"
Oh boy. This would be Envy. This will not be good at all. "Cas," Dean tries again.
"I am sick of your games, Dean," Castiel starts pacing, raking one hand through his mussed hair. "I watch you with all of those women, those men, and you lead them on, take what you wish and think nothing of them."
"Uh, okay?" Dean is confused now – this isn't Envy or Gluttony...oh. Shit. This is Wrath.
Castiel slams a fist into the wall, and the entire room shakes. His wings partially unfurl and Dean can't help but take a step back, suddenly confronted by an angry and demon-whammied Castiel. It's more than a little frightening.
"I have watched you all your life, Dean," Castiel growls, eyes flashing with anger. "You squander so much and on what? Frivolities, trifles! You play with the feelings of others, thinking of none but yourself!"
"Whoa, whoa, hang on a minute there, Cas – you been watching me how long?" Dean is shocked out of his fright by Castiel's words.
"All. Your. Life." And the way Castiel says that shouldn't sound nearly as erotic as it does, but oh boy...the way his voice drops an octave, the gravelly timbre of it, and the way he's looking at Dean now -- Dean gulps. His body is certainly taking an interest in things, and this could be a Very Bad Idea.
Castiel, however, seems to be on some sort of roll of angelic ranting. "You make free with other men's wives, Dean, and you make free with other women's husbands, and you flit from partner to partner with no thought whatsoever of the consequences. You lie, cheat, steal; you fornicate..."
"Y'know," Dean pipes up as annoyance emboldens him and he moves closer to Castiel, angry now. "I kinda got the whole sex is bad part. Come on, then, Cas, what else are you gonna do? What other parts of my life are you gonna list as being so fucking awful? What are you going to say to me that I haven't already said to myself?" Damnnit, he knows this is the work of the Sins, but Dean can't help responding to Castiel's words, anger flaring hot and bright.
"You fucking sanctimonious bastard – glorified duck-down pillow, what the fuck is your problem? I thought we were all getting on okay and now you're behaving like...like a fucking mother hen!"
"Are you comparing me to poultry?" Castiel's expression has become shocked. "How can you compare the majesty, the glory of angels, to dinner?" He draws himself up to his full height, wings now completely unfurled, and he gazes proudly at Dean. "Do I look like a chicken to you? Do I?"
"Uh," Dean manages, because holy shit, those wings. Those wings are beautiful, and the feathers are shining a little, as if they're wet from rain or dew. Castiel's blue eyes are full of pride, and at that moment, Dean realizes that the angel - his angel, his Cas – is beautiful.
"I am not a chicken!" Castiel sounds as if he's been mortally insulted.
"No. Not a chicken. Got it. No poultry in Heaven." Dean nods. Right, that's Pride, what next? He's a bit scared to see what will follow, but he's also kinda fascinated. Seeing the Sins handiwork, he remembers a vague bit of lore about them – that they only amplify what is already there. And Castiel clearly has issues with a capital 'I'. Dean watches the flicker and play of emotion over Castiel's face, Castiel who usually keeps himself closed off and shuttered. He can't tear his eyes away as Castiel shakes himself and furls those magnificent wings, preens a little.
"Chicken indeed," Castiel mutters and looks away. Dean blinks. This is, he thinks, worse than Sam being bitchy for days on end.
Before Dean can say anything – before he can think – Castiel is moving into his personal space, looking deep into his eyes. Dean swallows hard, the way Castiel looks at him making him sweat, making him feel that his earlier concerns about bad ideas are about to come true.
Castiel leans in, bare millimeters from Dean and purrs in that soft, gravelly voice, in a tone that Dean could only describe as sultry, "I have watched you all through your life, Dean Winchester, and despite your...lifestyle, you are...beautiful to me."
There's some sort of reply for that, Dean thinks, but whatever it is, he has no idea because Castiel has pressed up against him and is kissing him.
This is Lust. Dean shivers, even as he finds himself kissing Castiel in return, his hands reaching up to stroke that silky dark hair. He moans into Castiel's mouth – Castiel tastes good, and Dean wants more. As Castiel presses even harder against him, he takes a step back, hitting the wall with a 'thunk.'
Dean whimpers – a noise that later he'll deny ever making – as Castiel's hands move over him: long, dexterous fingers tracing his body through the thin t-shirt he's wearing. He's suddenly burning hot, his jeans are too tight and his dick is definitely wanting to feel Castiel's touch. His angel tugs at the t-shirt, and Dean groans as it's pulled free and tossed aside. He cries out as Castiel's tongue licks around his tattoo with agonizing slowness.
Fuck the Sins, Dean thinks, bucking helplessly forward into Castiel. He doesn’t care. This is too good, and Castiel is making soft growling noises that skip Dean's ears and go straight to his dick. Dean moans loudly as Castiel lightly nips him, his own fingers made clumsy with desire as he tugs off the tie the angel wears, shoves off the trench coat and jacket.
Castiel moans, low in his throat as Dean finally shoves off that white shirt, as Dean's hands meet warm skin. He kisses his way up to Dean's neck, laves the pulse point with his tongue, making Dean whimper again, need burning through him.
"Cas," Dean gasps as his angel licks up to his ear then sucks on the earlobe. "Oh fuck, Cas!"
Castiel purrs and Dean's knees almost give out at the sound. Fuck, is there any noise the angel makes that isn't going to make him want to come in his jeans? Apparently not, as Castiel murmurs in his ear, "I have wanted you for years, Dean."
Later, Dean will ask him about that. Later, when his brain can process whole sentences and not just fragments. Because right now, all Dean knows is that Castiel, angel of the Lord, wants him, and fantasies in the shower aside, he's never really thought he'd get lucky. "Me too. Yeah. That. Want you. Oh fuck!"
A blink and suddenly they're naked and Dean is panting as their bodies press together, as Castiel rocks his hips against him, their cocks rubbing together with delicious friction. Dean's hands slide down his angel's back, and he encounters feathers. Feeling those wings beneath his hands is intoxicating and Dean caresses them slowly, wonderingly, as Castiel arches beneath his touch, wings pulsing and flaring with pleasure.
Huh. Wings are erogenous zones on angels. Good to know. Dean grins to himself and continues those slow caresses, gentle touches, and Castiel shivers and trembles against him, gasping, panting hotly.
"Cas," Dean groans. "C'mon, Cas..."
Castiel whimpers then, and Dean whines, and they're staggering to the nearest bed – Sam's, awesome, he'll just love having his bed covered in come and sweat – and collapsing on it in a tangle of limbs. Dean's mouth crashes against Castiel's and they kiss, hard and hungry, hands roaming everywhere they can reach as they rub and rut against each other like animals in heat.
Dean rolls onto his back, spread his legs and bucks up into Castiel, his meaning clear: fuck me. His angel growls, the sound making Dean's cock twitch enthusiastically. This, Dean thinks, is awesome. The reality of sex with Castiel is so much better than he had ever imagined in his daydreams and fantasies. So far. Please don't fuck this up... Dean thinks to himself, fingers clenching reflexively in Castiel's feathers as his angel licks his nipple to hardness, makes him arch helplessly.
"I know what I am doing," Castiel purrs, and Dean realizes that he's heard Dean's thoughts. He'll be embarrassed about that later – again with the later – but right now...
"Awesome. So you should get to it." Dean grins cockily up at Castiel. "Fuck me, Cas. Wanna feel your dick in me."
Castiel shivers, groans and kisses Dean again -- a hard, brief kiss -- before he grips Dean's hips hard enough to bruise. Dean lifts his legs, one leg on Castiel's shoulder, the other around his waist, and he howls with pleasure as Castiel slowly presses his cock into him, slowly, slowly, too fucking slowly, but oh, so fucking good!
Whatever the angel's using for lube is just fantastic, Dean thinks, and then he mentally shrugs. Whatever. He doesn't care. All he cares about right now is Castiel fucking him: slow, deep thrusts, his cock angled just so, sliding again and again over his prostate. Dean surges up to meet each thrust, and he's moaning almost constantly now, so turned on he can barely think. When Castiel wraps a hand around Dean's precum-slick dick, Dean yells wordlessly, pleasure surging, his hands gripping Castiel's arms as his angel fucks him hard and slow.
"Dean," Castiel moans, his blue eyes hazy with lust. "Oh, Dean...."
"Don't stop," Dean pants out. "Don't stop, Cas, don't ever stop..."
"I won't." Castiel's thrusts grow faster and Dean cries out, feeling himself on the edge of orgasm. "Dean...my beautiful Dean..."
Maybe some of the Sins mojo has whammied him as well, Dean thinks fuzzily, because he's suddenly totally okay with being Cas' Dean. Actually, he kinda likes it. A lot. He smiles up at Castiel, a hand reaching up to cup the angel's cheek and he murmurs, "Yeah, I am yours, Cas. My angel."
Castiel blinks and then smiles shyly and turns his head so that he can kiss Dean's fingertips. "I am your angel, you know. I always have been. I am greedy, Dean," and that, Dean realizes, is Greed mingling with Lust. "I do not want to share you..." Castiel's voice trails off as his hips stutter and Dean knows they're both close.
"Cas!" Dean arches, yells loudly as his orgasm washes over him, through him. "Oh fuck, Cas!"
A moment later, Castiel is shoving deep and coming hard, clutching Dean to him tightly and crying out hoarsely in a language that Dean doesn't understand. He feels warmth fill him and that, too, makes him cry out because holy fuck, he's just been fucked by angel, fucked by his angel.
Fucked. By an angel of the freakin' Lord.
As his leg slides off Castiel's shoulder, Dean tugs his angel in for a kiss. As they kiss, he murmurs, "You really want me? Like this?"
"Yes, Dean," Castiel answers solemnly. And it might be the Sins at work, but Dean doesn't care.
"Good. 'cos I want you, too. All the time."
Castiel smiles at him then, a bright, happy smile and Dean can't help but smile back. "I am glad, Dean. Very glad." Then he yawns and blinks, surprised.
Oh. Sloth has just kicked in. Dean devoutly hopes this is the end of the Sins' little game – he wants Castiel without any external influence. After a nap.
"Let's rest a bit," Dean suggests, giving his angel a graceful excuse for his sudden yawn. "Then do it again."
Castiel nods, snuggling close. Oddly, Dean doesn't mind that, either. "That is a very good idea."
*~*~*~*
"So, after Cas worked his way through each of the sins...well, they wore off," Sam finishes.
Dean nods, although he's worked that out some hours ago. "Awesome. So their mojo should be gone now?"
"Yeah." Sam looks at his brother and the angel curiously. "You both okay?"
"Perfect." Dean grins, then looks at Castiel who is blushing. "Aren't we?"
Castiel blinks then smiles shyly. "Yes."
Sam looks from one to the other and then he suddenly laughs. "Wow. Okay. I bet they didn't expect this when they whammied you, Cas."
Castiel quirks an eyebrow in eloquent query, and Sam laughs again.
"The fact that you both want each other. The fact that it took the Seven Deadly Sins for you both to admit it and do something about it. About fucking time, too."
Dean goes as red as Castiel. "Shut up, Sammy."
Sam's lips twitch with suppressed mirth. "Okay. So, I'm going to leave you two to...have angel sex." He laughs then and stands up. "I'll get another room, it's cool." He's gone before Dean can answer him.
Dean and Castiel look at each other.
"So," Dean starts. "Do you want to, y'know, stay?"
Castiel kisses him gently. "I always want to stay."
"Good." Dean kisses him back.