Disclaimers: I own nothing. What a sad, sad world.

Warnings: Castiel/Dean; not-so-consensual sex; language. It IS rated M, after all.

I've never written fic based on a TV show, I was always afraid of not being able to truly capture the essence of pre-made characters so this is my first. I literally lost sleep before I finally caved and got this out.

Nothing Satisfies Me But Your Soul

Red. Black. Begging. Pleading. Crying. Screaming. Endless screaming. Ripping. Tearing. Screaming. More screaming. Screaming? Ringing. Ringing?

Dean wakes slowly and fumbles for his phone on the nightstand and opens it angrily. "What?" he asks.

"Where are you?" the rough voice on the other end asks in a tone that doesn't just ask, but demands.

Dean tells him and hangs up, closing his eyes hoping to get even just a few minutes more of sleep before he receives his visitor. He rolls over and realizes he should know better. Castiel was sitting on the edge of the bed. Of course he was there.

"What do you want?" Dean growls.

Castiel leans over so that he's just about nose to nose with Dean, staring into his eyes. "What did I tell you about showing me some respect?" Castiel puts his hand on Dean's arm, right over the mark he left when he pulled Dean out of Hell, as if to remind him of his threat. Dean doesn't say anything, just returns the fallen angel's stare.

"I can't find God," Castiel says dejectedly, leaning back. "I've looked so many places. And the other angels are hunting me down. It's so hard to play hide-and-seek when you're on both sides."

"What about the amulet? Isn't that supposed to tell you where he is?" Dean asks, sitting up and resting against the headboard.

"It will tell me when I am close. I have not gotten close yet."

"Why are you here?" Dean asks more gently than before.

"I am frustrated. I cannot find him and it gets harder and harder to dodge those who want me dead. I betrayed my brotherhood, killed two angels, two of my brothers, to help a human… to help you." Castiel's voice heats up, starts to turn to fire with anger and Dean just isn't sure. Sure why Castiel's here, if he's even talking to him or just venting or even sure if Castiel is going to hurt him. "I put all my faith in you, Dean, to stop the Apocalypse and you failed. I did everything to help at the cost of everything that is me and you failed." At this point Castiel's brimming with anger, bordering on rage and he's right in Dean's face now.

"I'm sorry," Dean says, trying to remain to calm because he's finally realized that the last thing he wants to do is piss of an angel who's already mad at him, especially since he's the one brought Dean back.

"'I'm sorry'? Is that all you have to say for yourself? I sacrificed everything for you, put all my faith in you when you had none in me or yourself, and you failed, and all you can do is say you're sorry?" Castiel's raised his voice a few notches, louder than Dean's ever heard so he wonders if this is Castiel yelling.

Dean doesn't know what to say. After all, what do you say when you failed to stop the Apocalypse and have an angry angel yelling at you? Because, really, there's nothing you can say, no words for what's transpired. And while he's thinking of something, anything, he can say or do, Castiel's lips crash hard into his own.

"Cas! What the fuck?!" Dean tries to push the angel off of him but only manages to pull his own head away just enough to breathe and yell at Castiel.

"You will bend," Castiel growls. "I have lost everything because of you… for you, and now you are all I have left. I will bend you, but I will not break you. You have disobeyed me too many times, but not tonight."

Before Dean can even open his mouth to speak, Castiel's lips are on his, so hard there might be bruises when he wakes up. He's too stunned to even wonder what to do; try to push him off again? Go with it? He knows one thing though, his mind and his body have two completely different ideas.

Castiel breaks away and strips Dean of his t-shirt and tosses his own trench coat on the floor. He rakes his fingernails up and down Dean's chest, hard enough to draw blood but not enough to really bleed. He wants to leave this mark on him as a reminder, just long enough so that Dean will remember this encounter as reality.

Dean doesn't know why he's not doing anything, why he's just letting Castiel do this to him. Is it because he knows he couldn't really fight him anyway? Is he under some angelic spell and doesn't realize it? Is it shock? Fear? Desire? Fear of desire? He just lays there, watching as Castiel yanks off his boxers and frees his hardened phallus.

Castiel stands up and relieves himself of the rest of his own clothing. Dean stares at him and admits to himself that Castiel is truly beautiful and finds his length hardening more than he ever thought possible. His gaze slides up his body, up to his cerulean eyes which were focused on his chest, legs, anywhere but his own eyes.

Now completely disrobed, Castiel straddles Dean's calves and leave red trails on his thighs to match the ones on his chest. Dean feels compelled to not make this a one-sided encounter and sits up. He loses his hands in Castiel's chestnut hair and grabs it, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Castiel's eyes become stormy and he pushes Dean back down on the bed so hard there's a large audible crack and it sags a little.

Dean silently admits defeat to himself, knowing a lost battle when he sees one. He thinks that if he pisses the angel off again during his ministrations it might result in his death one way or another.

Castiel rolls Dean over onto his stomach and straddles his legs. He trails his fingers down Dean's back, over his posterior and down his thighs, leaving the same marks he left on his front. Dean lets a low moan escape and Castiel doesn't know if it's pain or pleasure, but he doesn't really care anyway. When he's done, he lifts up Dean's hips, gripping them so hard he leaves hand-shaped bruises, and brings his opening to his own stiffened phallus.

Dean looks behind himself just in time to see Castiel insert two fingers into his opening. "Godammit!" he groans as he feels the angel's fingers slide in and out a few times. He faces forward again and closes his eyes, mentally bracing himself for what's about to come.

Castiel removes his fingers and replaces them with his hardness. Starting off slow he just pushes the tip in and leaves it there for several moments before sliding the rest of his length into Dean. He tightens his grip on his hips as he slams into Dean over and over.

"FUCK!!" Dean cries out in three parts pain, ecstasy, and frustration. His own desire was being left unattended and it was just as intense as everything else he was feeling at this moment.

A jerk, a shake, a shudder. A thin line of blood trickles down the back of Dean's thigh as Castiel empties himself inside the mortal, leaving a searing white pain inside him. He lays down on top of Dean momentarily, spent. Dean's laying back on his stomach, physical and emotional feelings running through him, leaving him just as spent.

Dean feels Castiel slide out of him and rolls over to say something to him, but he's gone. All that's left is his painful erection screaming for attention, and a lone dark grey feather resting beside him on the bed.

A/N: The title comes from the song "O Death," I thought it was perfect.