Rating: NC-17

Pairing: DeanCas

WarningsTags: Bottom Cas, Top Dean, basically Dean has a thing for western memorabillia, Cas in chaps, Light Bondage, Blowjob (kinda), Rimming

Summary: In which Dean demonstrates how far his obsession with the West really goes.

(Cas in tight leather chaps, hands bound by a lasso. You don't wanna miss this, folks.)

Words: 1846

Notes: For a brilliant prompt: "Set in 6.18, post-journey to Frontierland. Dean has a rather eccentric fetish for cowboy gear and western memorabilia. Castiel doesn't quite understand the fetish. Dean is determined to show him why he loves the West. It just so happens that he bought a dandy rope and buttless chaps to go along with his uniform, but never had the occasion to use them in Frontierland. "

-x-x-

The things Dean did should've really stopped surprising Castiel by now.

But Cas wouldn't have ever guessed that the human's obsession for western memorabilia was a lot more than just the clothes from that era.

That was how he'd ended up here; with an ache in his knees and his hands bound behind his back by a lasso. Tight leather was clinging to his legs in the form of buttless chaps, hot and smooth and leaving his ass bare to the rest of the motel room. He was kneeling between Dean's thighs, obeying the hand in his hair and taking as much of Dean's cock as he possibly could, the flesh hot and throbbing on his tongue as he bobbed his head. He hadn't been permitted to remove his mouth yet - he was to kneel there for as long as Dean wished, his mouth nothing but a hole for the hunter to fuck into.

Though he'd never admit it, being like this sent a tiny thrill down his spine; for so long he'd obeyed the celestial rule of the Host. To obey the flesh and bone of a human he could smite in seconds was so against Heaven's laws that Castiel actually felt flares of heat shoot through his gut every time his hunter so much as made a noise.

"Fuck, angel," Dean gasped, yanking hard on Cas' hair to pull his mouth away from his cock, a string of saliva still connecting the head to Cas' lip, "When d'you get so good at this?"

"We've practised coitus long enough," Cas answered, "Repetition has made my gag reflex -"

Dean promptly shut him up with a searing kiss. Heat, cloying and thick, swelled between them. Cas' mind melted away, still vaguely annoyed at the ropes stopping him from reaching up and touching his human. Breaking them would be easy, but Dean wanted them on - said he liked Cas all 'trussed up and helpless'. So the angel merely knelt up a little straighter, tilting his head and letting his eyes flutter shut as Dean cupped his face, tongue running across the angel's bottom lip, teeth nipping slightly, undoubtedly leaving red marks in their place. Cas refused to heal them.

Dean's fingers traced the curve of Cas' jaw, gliding around to card his fingers roughly through the hair on the back of the angel's neck. Goosebumps flourished across Cas' skin, a frustrated growl tearing itself from his throat. He wanted Dean now.

He pushed insistently forwards, lips still slick, teeth digging into Dean's bottom lip, pulling it and letting go before diving into the hollow of the hunter's throat, finding that one spot beneath his jugular that made Dean groan, teetering on his knees all the while.

"Jesus," Dean breathed. Cas let his lips linger, breath ghosting across the soft skin below the bolt of the hunter's jaw. Leaning in close, he ran his tongue across the ridge of his ear, blowing over the damp skin, making a shiver wrack Dean's body.

"If you hurry up and fuck me…" he laid a burning kiss on Dean's pulse point, "…I'll make you say that again."

Within seconds he was pushed face-down on the mattress, Dean's hands palming at his ass. Cas allowed himself a grin; he might've been the one bound, but he was still the one holding the metaphorical reins.

His cock throbbed when he felt Dean's mouth at his entrance.

"Dean -" his breath hitched when Dean's hands pulled his ass cheeks wide, the leather of the chaps digging into his skin – they were so tight, "Oh – Dean."

The hunter ignored him, tonguing his rim, wet and hot, and Cas felt his legs quivering. His face pressed into the mattress, mouth agape as he gasped out the hunter's name. He outright bucked his hips when Dean started humming.

Fireworks went off in his brain, a long, drawn out groan escaping his dry lips. The things Dean could do with his mouth would never cease to amaze him.

The whole world seemed to dissipate after that. It narrowed down the hot slide of Dean's tongue, the rough callouses on his hands running reverently over the skin on show. Soon, Dean had worked up to two fingers, crooking and rubbing and oh God, Cas felt like he was going to burn out of his very skin.

"Dean," he gasped - he needed more, needed to feel whole, "Dean, I need - you - "

"I know angel," Dean breathed and his voice - his voice sounded wrecked, "You gotta be patient."

"I tire of being patient."

The resultant laugh vibrated through Cas' abdomen.

"Yeah. I'm getting that," one of Dean's hands grabbed the bundle of rope connecting the angel's wrists, pulling Cas back, the blunt head of the human's cock catching on Cas' rim. The angel keened low in his throat, back bowing as his chest was lifted fully away from the mattress, rolling his hips against the length. His arms ached from the position they were in, but Cas was begging so much for Dean's cock that he didn't notice.

Dean kept pulling, relentless - pulling and pulling until his lips were hovering behind the shell of Cas' ear, nosing at the sweaty black curls at angel's nape. Another flush of burning heat stole through Cas' gut, his skin feeling like fire, damp and engulfed in flame.

"You gotta ask me though, remember Cas?" Dean was teasing, he was teasing and he was completely enjoying it, "Ask me like how I told you to."

Cas gritted his teeth - his cock was curved up towards his stomach, hard and heavy, leaving smears of precum on his abs - he was torn between outward denying Dean and completely caving in. Cas didn't bow down easily, and though he loved Dean, the human did like his power rushes sometimes. Perhaps a little too much.

Not that Cas didn't find it hotter than the flames of hell, of course.

"Fine," he hissed, pressing his ass so far back that he felt the smooth juts of Dean's hipbones digging into his skin. He leant back to rest his head on Dean's shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. This was ridiculous.

He took a breath.

"...Ride 'em... Cowboy."

Dean hummed his approval, burying his face into Cas' neck to nip and bite mark as he pleased, rutting lazily against the angel's ass.

"That's my angel," Dean breathed, and then he let go of Cas' bonds. The angel fell forwards, humiliated, agitated, and all-around turned-on. He huffed.

"You know I'll get you back for th-"

The rest of Cas' sentence went unfinished as Dean slid home. Cas jaw fell open.

It wasn't often he blasphemed, but, "Oh fuck - fuck -" Dean was thrusting shallowly, expertly, barely breaching him as his nails dug into Cas' hips, "Dean - Dean...!"

The bed jolted when Dean slammed in. Hard.

Cas cried out into the mattress; Dean didn't give him a moment to adjust. He just kept going, hand grabbing the strap of leather fitted snug around Cas' middle, tugging him back on each thrust and the angel hadn't ever been so grateful for the creation of chaps before because the way these chaps drove Dean mad with lust was insane. The almost mechanical roughness of each thrust was enough to make Cas cry out on every single one. It was like getting fucked by a machine; impersonal and cold, downright filthy, but oh so good.

Cas tried in vain to spread his legs wider, the tight leather stopping him from doing so. He was left, panting and writhing on the mattress, unable to do anything but gasp and moan as the hunter fucked into him; used him as nothing but a tight, leather-clad hole to ram into. Lord knew he'd be lying if he claimed that that didn't turn him on as much as it did.

When Dean finally - finally - changed the angle, Cas lit up from the inside, the human's cock hitting that tiny sweet-spot inside dead on. What he was sure to be lightning (because nothing in all of creation felt like this) jarred deep through Cas' gut, thick pleasure coiling tightly in his abdomen. He wanted his hands untied - wanted to be able to use them to pin Dean down and ride him hard until they both saw stars - but Dean wasn't letting him do that, he was being cruel and ruthless and oh God -

"Cas," the hand that wasn't on the waistband of the chaps hooked over one of Cas' shoulders, skin thrumming with the blood pumping through their bodies. Cas could imagine it; Dean would be flushed, throat and chest a blushing red, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, making the contours of his body shine in the warm light of the room. He'd be gnawing his bottom lip, head thrown back and, if Cas was honest with himself, had he known western get-up would be this arousing to the hunter before he would've donned the chaps and a Stetson a long time ago.

On one solid, particularly deep snap of Dean's hips, Cas realised he was on the brink, cock dripping, muscles twitching with exertion. His hands balled against his back, clenching down hard on Dean's cock, savouring the groan he got in response. Dean seemed to read him on a third level because he reached around, sliding a hand down Cas' length. The friction was maddening, the rough skin of Dean's palm making Cas' cock twitch.

"Fuck, baby, so wet," Dean fisted the angel's cock in time with each thrust, thumb sliding over the slit before reaching down to cup Cas' balls - their skin slapped every time it met, each thrust so hard Cas could feel it in the back of his throat. White was teetering on the edges of Cas' vision, Dean stroking the angel's cock in tandem with the rolls of his hips, and it only took three more rattling thrusts for Cas to make a mess of himself. Come splattered up his naval, going as far as his collar bone, sticky and hot, as Dean's name fell, broken and ragged, from Cas' lips. Orgasm still shaking him, he pushed back as far as he could, burying Dean all the way, clamping down hard, biting his lip when he felt Dean's body shake behind him, fingers biting into the angel's shoulder as the human came soon after.

The ropes were soon gone - a single thought and the angel had banished them, falling fully to the mattress, his shoulders throbbing dully. Dean was practically a dead weight at his back, those plump lips leaving a sloppy trail of kisses down the angel's nape. A tell-tale warmth dripped between Cas' thighs.

"If you wish to use the chaps again, they're going to need to be washed." He murmured sleepily. Dean's chuckle was low and croaky.

"We're gonna have to wash them then."

Cas didn't want to admit it, but the thought of using them again made him very, very happy.