#face fucking

Title: Debut

Pairing: DeanxKevin

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 5,546

Notes: for an anon, indie porn au, pre-established but non-explicit poly Destiel, all the smut is between Kevin and Dean, bottom Dean, feminization, face fucking, light bondage

-

Dean’s already made it through one movie and gotten another started when he hears the squeaky hinges of the back door to their apartment. He doesn’t blame Cas for being late to the unofficial start time of their regular Friday night movie marathons. The guy gets lost in his head a lot, and once he’s focused on something he doesn’t even notice texts from Dean.

The half eaten meat lovers pizza sitting in an open box on the coffee table has chilled, but there’s plenty of movies and beer left. Dean’s picked out a few DVD’s of his favorite old Westerns and found a couple on Netflix that he hasn’t seen in ages.

Cas shuffles into the living room, shoes removed, weighed down with bags of his camera equipment. He squints at the movie that’s already been started, and the pizza that Dean has finished his own portion of.

“I’m late.” Cas states.

Dean shrugs. “Set your stuff down, I’ll grab a beer for you.”

Nodding, Cas retreats down the hallway to put his equipment away where it belongs. Getting a beer for him amounts to grabbing one out of the green camping cooler sitting next to the couch because Dean’s a genius and this way he doesn’t have to go to the fridge for refills. He pops it open on the side of the scuffed coffee table and sets it next to the pizza box.

Cas has taken his pants off when he comes back and the boxers he’s wearing are plaid, so they’re probably Dean’s.

“You want me to restart the movie?” Dean asks.

“No, thank you,” Cas replies, reaching for his beer and settling onto the old, blue couch. It sags in the middle, and they always slide into the dip until they’re pressed side to side.

Cas prods a piece of cold pizza first, before sighing dramatically and eating it. Too lazy to heat it up in the kitchen, too aware of his own lateness to complain.

Dean nudges him with a foot.

“Hey, there’s mint chocolate chip in the freezer.”

Cas smiles widely and scoots closer to Dean, thighs touching. It’s an easy, warm comfort.

After finishing a few slices, and after Dean’s opened a second beer for him, Cas finds the remote and turns the tv volume down.

“I have a job for you.”

“Oh yeah? Just photos, or video?”

“Both. I found someone new I want you to work with;”

Dean nudges Cas in the side with an elbow. “You still finding young, desperate for money college kids, Cas? Gotta say, the older you get, the creepier that gets.”

“Dean, I found you like that.”

“Mhmm.”

“He’s a consenting, legal adult.”

“Cas, I’m messin’ with you.”

“I know,” Cas mumbles into his beer.

Of course, Cas is only six years older than Dean, which wasn’t much when they were both in their twenties. Now that Cas is pushing forty and Dean’s got at least a solid ten years on most college kids, it’s starting to get a little weird. Dean didn’t think he’d still be doing porn for Cas well into his thirties, but if anything they’ve started making more money as Cas has gotten better selling online through independent creator content sites.

It’s not like it’s the only job that Cas, or Dean has. Dean still works a dead end, part time, job at an electronics and appliances repair store. Not like people take things to get repaired much anymore, but his friends are there and he enjoys it. Porn - or ‘erotica’ as Cas used to insist - is kind of a hobby for him that turned out to make some money, but he has his own photography stuff too, he even takes boring jobs like weddings when the money is tight.

Dean stretches an arm along the back of the couch, rests his hand on Cas’ shoulder.

“So, what’s this guy’s name?”

“Kevin.” Castiel turns to him, one eyebrow raised pointedly. “He’s Asian.”

Dean thinks of the old shoe box full of Busty Asian Beauty mags that’s under their bed. Cas knows how to push his buttons a little too well.

“When do you have in mind?”

“Are you free tomorrow?”

Dean taps a finger against his beer bottle, resting on his thigh. “I’ve got work, but I get off at six.”

“That would be good,” Cas nods.

“Okay. Awesome.”

Cas sets the volume back up on the tv, and it’s on one of Dean’s favorite saloon shoot-out scenes but he finds his attention drifting. It’s been a little while since Cas recruited someone new, and that always gets Dean excitable.

—

When Dean gets home from work on Saturday around six-thirty, there’s a ratty pair of sneakers that aren’t familiar in the kitchen, sitting next to Cas’ polished Oxfords. Dean considers grabbing two beers from the fridge, but he’s not even sure if Kevin is twenty one.

Through the arched doorway, Dean finds the guy sitting on the living room couch reading a thick book, a backpack set on the floor in front of him. His skin is lightly tanned, hair a few inches long and jet black, face round with a bit of stubborn baby fat. He is really cute.

“Hey, I’m Dean.” Hanging around the doorway, Dean gives him space.

Kevin’s head whips up, “Oh! Hi, I’m Kevin. I’m, uh…” Kevin looks over his shoulder, down the hallway to the bedrooms, lowering his voice. “Is this normal? To, you know, in some guy’s apartment? Is that normal?”

“Technically, it’s my apartment too, me and Cas live here.” Dean shrugs. “And I dunno, I’ve only ever worked with Cas. He has a studio set up in one the spare bedrooms.”

Kevin nods, “Okay, sure, but just so you know I told one of my friends what I was doing and I gave them an address and if I don’t check in with them in six hours they’re going to call the police on you.”

“Okay,” Dean nods. “You sure you want to be here, man?”

Kevin blinks, looks Dean up and down, and Dean’s leaning on the doorframe in a slouch with his arms folded over his chest, flannel rolled to the elbows, wearing those dark jeans that hug his thighs. Kevin licks his lower lip, once, and gives a twitchy nod.

“Yeah. It’s good. I know what I’m doing.”

It’s kind of cute how flustered he is, but Dean doesn’t want to scare him by poking at him.

Cas comes down the hallway, his blue tie backwards, feet bare, wearing pressed slacks and a white button down.

“I’m set up, if you’d like to come back I’ll do your makeup and costuming.” A tiny smile pulls the corners of his lips up as Cas sees Dean. “Hello, Dean.”

“Heya Cas, how do you want me?”

Cas appraises him. “Just like that, but, one thing…” Cas wanders to the studio and comes back with a leather harness in hand. “Put that on under your shirt. And shave, please, but leave a little stubble.”

Dean salutes him and takes the harness. “Sure thing boss.”

-

He freshens up and shaves, does an enema and gets the harness on. It takes him a couple of tries to get all the straps and buckles lined up right. Putting his regular clothes back on over top, Dean regards himself in the mirror, fluffs his hair. His dick is perking up already, trained to anticipate a good time.

The studio door is open, so Dean goes in. He can hear Kevin and Cas talking behind the room divider.

The right side of the room opens to east facing windows, where Cas as a habit of shooting Dean in the mornings. He has all sorts of props and draperies that he dresses the place up with. Today, there’s a few swathes of pale pink fabric hanging in front of the windows and along the walls, maybe blankets or curtains, Cas has a knack for finding cheap things at second hand stores and garage sales. The floor is covered in a white sheet, an excessive amount of similarly pastel pillows strewn around.  It’s all soft and sweet looking and simple.

Cameras sit stationary on tripods at several points, lights set up, a few microphones set up with their wires taped to the floor. Cas will move around with his hand camera to take stills, and occasionally moves or adjusts the other cameras mid-shoot.

Behind the divider to the left of the room are clothes racks, dressers, shelves of shoes and props, as well as a makeup desk. Dean putzes around the room quietly landscaping mounds out of pillows, overhearing Kevin chatting with Cas.

“This is kind of a lot of makeup, I mean it’s really well done, but is it going to smudge? Should I worry about that? Are we supposed to kiss? What about blowjobs?”

“The makeup will smear,” Cas says, “That’s fine, that’s the effect that I want. You can kiss, if you’d like to.”

“Okay, I mean, I don’t really know what you’re going for, and it’s not like I’m a virgin but I haven’t really been with a lot of guys, and Dean is really hot, but how big is he because I’m kind of nervous about that?”

“I was thinking that you could fuck Dean.”

“Wait, seriously?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean nudges a few pillows around, makes a nice mound out of them.

“But, you’ve got me dressed up like the girl?” Kevin sounds confused.

Dean rounds the divider, lets himself be seen.

“There are no boy and girl parts,” is all that Cas says.

Kevin’s back is turned to Dean, but the reflection of his face is lit up brightly in the mirror. He’s all made up with white face paint, red lips, plum purple eye color that sparkles. It’s like the worst sort of western fetishization of Asian culture that’s common in the kind of porn Dean watches and it’s hot. A silk robe - probably not real silk, but it looks nice - drapes over Kevin’s shoulder, a pale purple color with pink flowers patterned on it. He’s fidgeting with the sash when he catches Dean’s face in the mirror and turns around.

Cas makes a hand-wavey gesture and Dean steps forward. His face is grabbed and Cas comes at him with eyeliner.

“Just a little for you,” Cas murmurs. As he works, he talks to Kevin. “You can say no to anything, I want you to know that. And if you want to walk out, I will still pay you half, as we’ve agreed. I don’t want you to feel pressured to do anything.”

“Yeah, of course,” Kevin watches them, head bobbing.

After the eyeliner is finished, Cas spreads clear lip-gloss on Dean’s mouth. Capping the lid on it, he turns back to Kevin. “How do you feel about face-fucking and light bondage?”

-

The only sound in the room is Kevin’s rapid breathing and the shuffling clatter of Cas adjusting his equipment around them. Cas always adds weird, instrumental mood music to his videos, but he edits it in later, works it around the sex noises he wants to highlight. He’s got a serious artistic flair when it comes to the lighting and sound and what he wants his subjects to do. It’s weird and Dean doesn’t always get what Cas means by it. But it makes him the strangest kind of horny.

Dean’s little pillow mound had been toppled, kicked to the side, so the two of them can stand in the middle. Kevin barely comes up to Dean’s chin.

Dean puts a hand on his shoulder, stroking across the smooth fabric of Kevin’s robe.

“Just take it slow and easy,” Dean tells him.

Leaning down, he kisses Kevin on the lips and waits for Kevin to respond. The lipstick is sticky and it’s definitely going to smear everywhere, leave trails over Dean’s body, bright and gaudy. Kevin parts his lips but he takes a beat to push back.

Dean slips his other hand to Kevin’s waist, holds him in a loose circle, let’s him set the pace. Kevin’s stiff and tense, standing there like a board. Trailing a hand to the back of Kevin’s neck, Dean dips his fingers below the collar of the robe and brushes them across warm skin. Kevin shudders underneath him, lets out a high pitched whine and finally presses forward. Getting both hands on Dean’s hips and squeezing his shirt, Kevin pesses against him, practically fucks his tongue into Dean’s mouth all sudden greediness.

Cas moves quietly around them with his camera for the stills, and Dean’s attuned to where he is and what angle to put forward. At the same time, Cas loves working with people who are inexperienced, he says they’re more organic. Dean can go with the flow, but he also loves showing off.

“Kevin, take his shirt off.”

Every now and then, Cas’ll give directions. He generally has a visual in mind, but between the set points he wants to display, he leaves them to it.

Kevin pulls back, blinking, his lips already slightly faded from kissing. Dean wishes he could see a blush under all that paint. Kevin’s heavy breathing isn’t panicky, now, it’s deep. Letting go of the fistfuls of Dean’s shirt, Kevin nods, drags his hands up Dean’s sides, spreads his palms over Dean’s chest, exploratory.

Shrugging his shoulders as Kevin pulls at his outer layer of flannel, Dean lets it drop to the floor. Kevin tugs at his black undershirt, shoving it up. Dean makes it easy for him, reaches up and pulls it off. Kevin’s hands roam his chest, fingers tracing over the thick black lines of the leather harness, circling over the smooth metal buckles. It loops up behind Dean’s neck, crisscrosses over his chest, highlights muscles he used to have that are more pudge now, but it still makes the angles look good.

Dean brushes a messy lock off Kevin’s forehead, sweeps back through soft hair and scratches against his skull. He’s small and pretty and shy from this angle, right now, and Dean kind of wants to ruin him in the best ways.

Grabbing hold of Kevin’s waist, Dean spins him around, earning a surprised grunt, but when he pulls Kevin’s robe open and spreads his hands over a surprisingly well toned stomach, Kevin leans back against him and moans. Dean unties the sash, exposes Kevin. Scratching through the soft hair trailing down from his navel to coarser, thicker hair at the base of his cock, Dean brushes his knuckles against Kevin’s dick. Kevin twitches, starts rocking between Dean and his hand. Grinding a perky ass back against Dean’s erection.

Circling around them, Cas gets up close and personal for a few shots of Kevin’s face. Leaning over him, Dean pulls the robe off one shoulder and kisses along the curve up to Kevin’s neck, sucks lightly at his throat, noses under his ear. Kevin smells clean and just a little spice-sharp, and Dean is suddenly intensely curious if Kevin put on cologne or aftershave before this.

Sometimes, with someone new, he’ll chase laps around the thoughts in his head about them, what they’re like in their private life, how they take their coffee, what kind of pajamas they wear, if they ever cry during sex.

As Dean gets bolder, gripping against Kevin’s skin and dragging, squeezing handfuls of his hips and sliding one hand lower to cup his balls, Kevin starts to squirm in a way that’s more desperate than nervous. He grows bolder right back, putting one hand on Dean’s forearm and reaching the other up to find Dean’s face, slip around to the back of his neck, pull him closer.

They stand pressed together, rutting against each other, Dean sucking soft pink bruises across Kevin’s throat and shoulders while Kevin tries to drag Dean’s hand onto his dick.

“Kevin, put Dean on his knees,” Cas breaks in.

Kevin stutters for a moment before he finds his words, “Uh, do you, what do you mean?”

Dean manhandles him, turns him around face to face. “Put me on my knees, Kevin.”

He doesn’t drop down or make it easy, stands tall over Kevin and flicks a tongue out over his lower lip, draws it between his teeth, watching Kevin watch him.

Kevin looks him up and down. Dick twitching, robe still hanging on his shoulders, hair ruffled. Reaching up, Kevin hooks a finger into the large ring that sits dead center of Dean’s chest, then tugs sharply. Dean follows, drops to his knees and puts his hands on his thighs, looking up at Kevin. Almost shyly, Kevin ghosts his fingers against Dean’s cheek, curls them under his jaw. Sweeping a thumb up, Kevin passes it over Dean’s lips, and Dean opens his mouth, sways forward and sucks on Kevin’s finger.

“Oh…” Kevin makes a surprised soft noise, pushes his finger in deeper.

Dean plays with him, works him up, shows him just what Dean can do with his mouth, before pulling off and tipping forward to press his face to Kevin’s belly, kiss down to the base of his dick. Hands in Dean’s hair, hips pressing forward, Kevin moves even closer, balances one of his feet on Dean’s thigh.

Dean’s poor dick is still trapped in his jeans. He moves a hand to squeeze over it. Hears Cas tell him, “Take it out.”

Nodding, rubbing his forehead against the smooth, warm skin of Kevin’s stomach, Dean unbuttons his jeans and pulls his dick out. He did forego the boxers when Cas told him to wear his street clothes. Stroking himself, he kisses lower open mouthed with a hint of tongue and teeth. Kevin shivers under him, twists his hair tighter, pushing him down. Dean nips at the prominent ridge of hips bone, rubs his cheek against Kevin’s dick and drags his lips over it, teasing the head with his tongue.

Kevin’s put weight on Dean’s thigh, one foot on and one foot still on the floor, like he wants to crawl all over Dean, get as close as possible, and that drives Dean wild. Being wanted, being needed.

“Kevin, fuck his mouth.”

The hold in Dean’s hair loosens and Kevin pulls back slightly.

“I,” looking down at Dean, he asks, “I mean, are you sure?”

Nodding, Dean keeps kissing his dick without giving him what he wants, waiting for him to take it, “Yeah, come on.”

“Okay, I can do that, okay.”

Kevin hooks a finger in his mouth again, gently pulls down. Flicking his tongue over his lower lip, dick still in his fist, Dean looks up. Slowly, Kevin guides his dick inside, let’s go of himself and Dean’s face when he’s halfway in, pushes to the base and he just hits the back of Dean’s throat. His dick is fat, Dean’s jaw stretching around it, drool puddling under his tongue. Kevin thrusts experimentally, before putting a hand back on Dean, the side of his face, around the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair searching for the perfect spot to hold.

Moaning around his dick, Dean sucks, barely moving his head. He slides a hand up Kevin’s thigh, under the robe, spreads his fingers against Kevin’s hip and gives him a squeeze to tell him it’s good, to ask him for more.

Spit drips down his chin when Kevin starts to fuck his mouth in earnest, pulling his hips back slow and snapping in. Dean relaxes into it, closes his eyes. He lets awareness fall away consciously, of Cas and the cameras and the set.

Cas has tried to get Dean into yoga and meditation before, but his mind is always too busy to shut down. Except like this. On his knees. His only purpose to be a wet open mouth. Maybe it’s a different kind of meditation.

Kevin moves back, taking his dick with him and Dean tips forward.

“I, uh, I think I might…. I don’t know, when should I, you know?”

“Give yourself a moment to calm down,” Cas tells him, “Then we’ll move on. I want you to remove your robe and spread it on the floor, then tie the sash from it around Dean’s wrists, behind his back. Dean, take your jeans off before he does that.”

“Um, okay,” Kevin nods and pulls his sash loose.

Dean flops on his back, kicks out of his jeans and tosses them to the side. He asks Cas, “You want me on my knees or standing up?”

Cas considers for a moment, always moving around the room, adjusting things. “Kneeling.”

Dean moves to the side while Kevin lays the robe down, smoothing it out. A splash of color on the white blanket, pillows scattered around the edges. Kneeling down, ass to heels, Dean folds his arms behind his back, forearms lined up and hands clasping the opposing wrist. The leather chest harness is the only thing left on him.

“So, how do I do this?” Kevin asks.

Cas puts down the camera in his hand and comes into the middle space, “I’ll show you.”

Dean waits, anything but patient, dick jutting hard in front of him. It’s only Cas, and Kevin, behind him, the glide of silk over his skin, the sound of Cas’ deep voice giving instructions, but being the focus of their attention makes Dean’s dick drip.

“I want you to tie it by yourself while I record it, can you remember it?”

“Yeah, pretty sure I got it.”

“Good.”

Moving away again, Cas disappears into background focus while Kevin works with the sash, untying and retying it several times. He tests it, fingers wandering up Dean’s arms and across his shoulders, pressing harder as Dean hums his appreciation.

As Kevin moves back around to his front, Dean rolls his shoulders, squeezes his hands and feels the tension in the tie around his wrists. “C’mere,” he slurs, dick-drunk and happy and wanting more of Kevin’s hands on him, Kevin’s mouth, Kevin’s anything.

Kneeling, Kevin presses forward to kiss him, wraps an arm around his shoulders to hold him up. Dean is sloppy and loose, kissing back open mouthed, free with the greedy, eager sounds he huffs into Kevin’s mouth. Kevin tugs at the straps of his harness, roams over his chest and down his stomach, palms at his dick and Dean whimpers.

“Here,” Cas says, a lot closer than Dean was aware. He passes a condom and lube over to Kevin.

While Kevin is rolling a condom on, Dean shuffles around on his knees. “I already prepped myself, I’m good to go.”

“What if I want to… to touch you?”

Dean smiles, facing the wall. Kevin is a lot of things he expected, and a lot of things he didn’t. “Go for it.”

Cas holds Dean’s shoulder and lowers him to the floor, ever helpful. Head pressed to the silk robe spread under them, weight rested on his chest, ass up and thighs open, Dean wiggles his hips. It probably looks funnier than it does sexy, but he’s all riled up and the slow stuttering pace as Cas moves them through different positions drives him up the wall sometimes.

Hands settle on his ass, fingers spread, stroking up to the small of his back and down to the tops of his thighs. Kevin withdraws, coming back with slick fingers at Dean’s hole. Dean’s expecting a quick touch, but he gets teasing strokes, feels Kevin’s dick brush against a thigh, Kevin curling over him, the soft touch of lips against his hip, up his back, over his shoulders. Breath warm against his skin, Dean shivers.

Kevin is slow and steady, and Dean’s not so sure it’s nerves anymore as it is Kevin enjoying himself, drawing it out. Maybe he’s emboldened the needy moans he can pull out of Dean, maybe he wants to make Dean beg.

Dean can do begging.

“C’mon, Kev, fuck me, you want me to say please, I’ll say please.”

“Oh, wow.”

He’s already loose and open and wet from prepping himself in the bathroom. Kevin continues to slide his fingers inside, crooks down, even shifts his other hand between Dean’s legs to hold his balls. Dean rocks back onto it, toes curling into silk, arms tensing as he pulls at the bindings.

Shuffling closer, Kevin nudges his legs wider, holds a hand on his hip, pushes inside. He fucks in an unpracticed way, graceless and selfish as he takes his pleasure in Dean’s body, rough as he curls over Dean and fucks him into the floor.

Dean’s noisy and restless and he kind of wants Kevin’s hand on his dick but he kind of wants to come just from getting fucked. Flushed hot and aching in the pit of his stomach, Dean whines when Kevin stops abruptly, buried inside him.

“Oh….. oh, I didn’t mean to, I just climaxed, was I supposed to pull out, or something?”

Dean’s a mess, panting on the floor.

“What’s your refractory period like?” Cas asks.

“Uh… give me maybe five minutes?”

Dean huffs, dick painfully hard, “God, I wish I were still in my twenties.”

-

The clutter on the kitchen table - mail and bills, mostly - has been pushed to the side to make room for a plate of homemade muffins and carton of almond milk. Kevin’s put his robe back on, so Dean pulled on his jeans too, still wearing his harness. Scandalously, Cas has rolled his shirt sleeves up to the elbow.

Dean suspects that there are vegetables in these muffins, because Cas is always trying to sneak vegetables into his food, but they have chocolate chips in there too so they get a pass.

Kevin is a vegetarian. He and Cas are talking about the pros and cons of vegetarianism versus veganism. Cas is kind of an on-again, off-again meat eater. Dean has no idea what the difference between a vegan and a vegetarian is.

Talking around a mouthful of muffin, which earns him a glare from Cas, Dean asks, “Wait, so what’s the difference between the two?”

Kevin, already having demolished two muffins, tells him, “A vegetarian doesn’t eat anything that kills animal, like meat, but will still eat animal products like eggs and milk that you can get from animals without killing them, but vegans don’t touch any animal products, and I mean, there are cruel practices used in farming with chickens and dairy cows, but there’s a rising trend towards more ethical practices like cage free chickens, the question is how much oversight and regulation there is and if you can really trust what the labels say in the grocery store.”

Cas nods, sips his almond milk. “Although I admire vegans’ discipline,some do go a little overboard. Honey is a prime example of that.”

“Yeah, right?” Kevin nods, “I mean, apiarists take care of bees, they provide a safer and more stable environment than in the wild, which is good for bees and then they make too much honey, which people can harvest and it doesn’t harm them.”

“Sometimes the desire to do absolute good can be misguided,” Castiel states.

Dean loses focus on the conversation pretty quickly, and grabs another muffin to scarf down before they go back to work.

-

The robe has been spread over the floor again, the two of them kneeling facing each other in the middle. Kevin takes his time undoing all the buckles and pulling the straps apart on Dean’s harness. The skin is red and indented from tying it a little too tight, but it leaves him hypersensitive as Kevin traces his fingers over the lines, presses in and massages out the soreness. Dean sways on his knees, pliant to Kevin, arms loose at his side.

Moving closer, Cas guides them more specifically. Curls Dean’s body in on itself, spreads Kevin’s hands over the marks on his back, takes photographs of the indentations. Dean mostly holds still where Cas puts him, except for the hand that creeps into Kevin’s lap. Kevin jerks at the first touch, scratches blunt nails deeper against Dean’s skin and Cas makes a humming noise of approval.

It only takes a few strokes to get Kevin fully hard again, and the breathy little noises he makes has Dean’s dick perking back up.

“Just a few more photos,” Cas mumbles, pulling Dean’s arm up.

Dean bends his arm and rests his hand against his shoulder, knowing how Cas loves to photograph those weird muscles he has along his ribs, crossed with the marks from the harness, and lower down Kevin’s hand on his dick.

“Okay, Dean on your back this time.”

“Mm, gotta get my pretty face in the shot, huh Cas?”

Cas rolls his eyes, and Dean lays down on the robe, rubbing against it in pretense of getting situated, spreading his legs whorishly and loving how Kevin’s gaze is so focused on him it’s palpable.

Putting on another condom, Kevin scoots between Dean’s spread legs, pets over his thighs. Kevin’s makeup is wrecked, lipstick smudged and kissed off, streaks of his skin showing through where the white’s been swiped against, eyeliner dripping from sweat and the purple sheen rubbed away from one eye like he was wiping his face without thinking about it. It’s pretty fucking hot.

“Gotta, get my hips up in your lap…” Dean tells him, lifting his hips up, reaching a hand out to grip Kevin’s side and get him closer.

“Like that?”

Kevin holds both his hands at Dean’s hips, hefts him up as Dean wraps his legs around Kevin’s waist. Lower back off the floor, Dean nods and rubs himself against Kevin’s dick.

“Yeah, that’s perfect, c’mon.”

Sinking in, Kevin adjusts himself in small, twitchy movements, but once he’s ready to go he fucks into Dean with an even, steady rhythm. The urgency of before is gone. His arm muscles strain as he manipulates Dean’s body, his chest and stomach curling with small rolls that stretch out to lean muscle as he moves.

Leveraging himself with his legs, squeezing his thighs tight against Kevin, Dean falls into a rhythm with him. Stretching his arms down, he gets his hands on Kevin’s knees and leaves them there. Dick bouncing between their bellies, Dean’s pretty sure he doesn’t need a hand. With his face up, bright lights around them, Cas moving in the periphery of his vision, Kevin wide-eyed above him, Dean thinks about all the people that are going to see this, that are going to get off watching him getting fucked. It always makes him feel vulnerable. Parts of himself it took a long while to come to terms with laid out bare and offered up for someone else’s pleasure.

Flushing hot and trembling, Dean’s orgasm sweeps through him suddenly. Kevin fucks him through it, juddering Dean’s body and he comes hard enough to hit himself in the face with jizz. It spatters messily up Kevin’s chest too, and Dean’s dick is still dribbling in aftershocks as Kevin grinds his hips against Dean, shudders through another orgasm with an o-face that’s shocked and cute.

Kevin pulls out and lowers Dean’s hips to the floor, hands lingering on his thighs, eyes darting between Dean’s spent dick and his eyes.

“Are…. are we done?” Kevin asks.

“We could be,” Dean tells him, sitting up and leaning forward.

Kevin comes into the kiss easy, leaving his hands on Dean’s body as Dean shifts, folds his legs, pulls Kevin into his lap. Dean does him the courtesy of rolling the condom off, tying it and tossing it to the side.

Sighing as Dean wraps around him, Kevin murmurs, “This is good too, I like this.”

—

There’s a mostly gone meat lovers pizza on the coffee table and a veggie lovers that is completely untouched, and a bottle of tequila is chilling in the cooler next to the beer. Meg’s got her feet kicked up, and she’s dominated the Netflix movie selection so it’s all cheesy horror movies in the ‘to watch’.

They are going to get drunk as shit and probably end up making godawful porn together later. Or just fucking Cas stupid between the two of them.

If he’d show up.

God, the movie they’re watching - which makes no sense, it’s about some kind of sentient, bloodthirsty tire? - it’s so bad that Dean’s ready to get on his knees in front of the couch and eat Meg out. Cas wouldn’t mind if they started without him.

Dean doesn’t hear the back door open while something exploded on the screen, but when the movie quiets there are two voices in the kitchen. Dean mutes the tv.

“Hey!” Meg protests.

“Cas, you bring someone else over?” Dean shouts.

Cas comes in to the living room and squints at the two of them. “Oh, that’s right, Meg was coming over tonight.”

“I’d be offended, but who’s the fresh meat,” Meg purrs.

Kevin waves from behind Cas’ shoulder. “Hi! I’m Kevin, I play cello in the music program at the university.”

“How cute.”

“Ah, that’s why you asked for a veggie lovers.” Dean scoots to the corner of the couch to make room, and Kevin ends up sandwiched between him and Meg.

She’s going to eat him alive.

Dean definitely wants to watch that.

Title: trick of the light

Pairing: DeanxRubyxSam

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 1,990

Notes: heavily inspired by but not in the same verse as ‘Kill The Lights’ by the prettiest peach @silver9mm, her fic’s just got me all worked up for some SamxDeanxRuby, this is more-so canon though. Warnings for mild dub-con, fisting (Dean), kinda-sorta breath play, face fucking, double anal penetration (Ruby), biting/marking.

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They’re squatting in an abandoned house after the last hunt, spinning their wheels and researching, waiting for word on another seal. It’s on the shittier side of the dives they’ve stayed in. Only the living room is accessible, the staircase to the second story having collapsed, a gaping hole in the floor of the kitchen preventing any further exploration of the house. But the living room feels sound enough under their feet. With the window broken out, the night air is cold and pervasive, the noises of the wide stretches of field surrounding the farmhouse loud and incessant.

It reminds Sam of the first time that Ruby crawled into his lap and told him it was okay. That he was allowed to want.

Mold creeps over the walls where water drips down from the ceiling, vines invading through jagged window edges. One old musty couch sits sagging and sad in the middle of the room.

It’s not just him and Ruby this time. Dean’s here. With Sam. With them.

Dean had caught Sam sneaking out to meet up with Ruby a few days ago, right before the hunt went to shit. There wasn’t any time between then and now to work it out. Dean didn’t want to work anything out, but Sam was done letting him bitch about it. Letting him undermine the hard work and the progress that Sam had made, only possible with Ruby’s help.  

Dean’s moral high ground in all this mess was going to crumble after this. Ruby was an means to an end, he had to see that, he had to know that. He would, after they killed Lilith. He’d understand then, and he’d forgive Sam.

The camping lantern sitting on the coffee table, the rotting coffee table with three legs and a cinder block to stand on, casts a harsh bright light over Dean. His bare skin is pallid, angles of his body exaggerated with the deep shadows.

Behind him, Ruby’s face is black-out dark, her long messy hair fallen over her shoulders and blocking the light. It glances over her chest, over the muscles of her arm straining as she works her delicate hand deeper into Dean. Sam’s got Dean pulled over the arm of the couch - an unpleasant gray-green thing looking sickly, whatever the original color of it used to be. Dean’s face is the perfect height to Sam’s hips like this, Sam standing with his boots still on, jeans puddled around his ankles, hands fisted in Dean’s hair.

They’re not going to get anywhere if Dean’s working against them, setting them behind it seems two steps for every one Sam takes forward with Ruby. You can’t make Dean do much of anything though, but Sam knows it’s a whole lot easier to lead him by his dick.

He’d learned that young, just over twelve, some summer when he wanted to do something stupid without their dad’s supervision - he can’t even remember what it was, but he’ll never forget how he couldn’t even get all of Dean’s dick wrapped in both of his hands, and the memory of the noise his brother made when Sam strained to fit his mouth around it can get Sam hard any day.

So, maybe he’s moved past arguing, and cajoling, and trying to show Dean what he can do. Sometimes you’ve got to handle Dean by force. He doesn’t complain; he might glare and put up a fight, but he doesn’t say no to Sam.

There’s tears in the corner of his wide eyes, red-rimmed, but he gets like that when Sam’s got his dick so far down Dean’s throat that he can’t breathe. He’s melted, finally, the stiffness of his muscle, how he flinched away from Ruby, slowly-slowly worn down and now he’s squirming on her arm, rocking his hips. The muscles of his back ripple hypnotically in the stark light, one of his feet planted on the floor to open his thighs wider, Ruby’s leaning over him and she’s got her lower lip bit between her teeth in concentration as she starts to pump her hand faster.

Dean’s choking and whining, spit thick and bubbling around the corners of his mouth. Sam fucks his hips forward, pulls his brother down until Dean’s nose is squashed against him. Sliding a hand down to wrap around Dean’s throat, he can feel himself inside. Feel the nervous clutch of Dean’s throat, feel his muscles start to tremble as he suffocates. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, hands clenched white-knuckled against couch cushions all torn open and spilling stuffing, Dean’s cries and the slick sound of Ruby fisting him almost makes Sam come.

But not yet.

He wants to give more to his brother. Wants Dean to see that he can have anything and everything. He doesn’t need to fight them.

Pulling out, Sam holds Dean’s face as he coughs, retches spit and snot and hocks it onto the floor by Sam’s feet. Sam pushes his fingers through Dean’s hair, scraping blunt nails against the back of his neck, slides his hand around to cradle Dean’s jaw and turn his face up.

“You want to hurt her, don’t you?”

Dean groans, breath hitching, trying to turn his face away but Sam tightens his hold.

“What the fuck, Sam…”

“You can.”

Sam crouches down, ass bare and dick hard, looks Dean in the eyes. “You know she’s wearing a body that was dead before she got there.”

“That’s not the fucking point.” Dean glares. He manages about a second of looking pissed off before his face screws up and he’s whimpering, “Sammy.”

“You can hurt her. You can have her. Use her.”

Rising from the crouch, Sam lets Dean go. Nodding once at Ruby, she pouts and slows, twisting her arm around.
“I kind of like making him my muppet.”

“Ruby.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the boss.”

She slides her arm out, shining slick with all the lube Sam made her use. Slapping both her hands down to Dean’s ass, she pulls him wide, admires her handiwork. A shudder wracks Dean’s body and he squeezes his eyes shut, clenching his jaw. Sam pushes him over, sets his bare ass on the couch with his feet to the floor. Ruby stands and stretches her arms above her head, perfect tits bare and nipples peaked in the cold.

The lube is still on the table, next to the lantern, flanked by guns and and flasks of holy water.

Dean moves to get up off the couch, but Sam leans over him and flattens a palm to his broad chest. The skin’s flushed hot, muscles jumping under Sam’s touch. He shoves Dean against the back of the couch and drips lube on his lap, uncaring how messy it is, watching Dean’s eyes the whole time.

Wrapping a fist around Dean’s dick, he can get almost all of it in a single hand now. Squeeze it tight enough to be painful and it makes Dean unspool beneath him, go pliant.

“Ruby, face him.”

She cocks an eyebrow at him, something sharp waiting in the corner of her twisted lips, and Sam reaches out with one arm to snag her. Bite the comment from her spiteful mouth. Shove her into Dean’s lap. He guides her down onto his brother’s dick, getting Dean inside her ass where they’ll both fit.

The sound out of Ruby’s mouth is pained as Sam pushes her down all the way. He can see Dean’s eyes widen, hands stubbornly gripping onto the gross couch cushions instead moving to Ruby’s wide hips or the curve of her waist or the softness of her breasts.

Sam slicks himself up, kneels on the splintered floor in front of them, the couch dipping enough under their weight that he’s got a good height to slide in beside Dean. Working a finger into her first, a wedge to hold her open and shove his dick in deep, Sam screws in to the balls with a few hard thrusts and Ruby wails, leans back against him.

Sam’s the only one with clothes still on, Ruby’s sweat slick skin sticking to his shirt, hair tangling messy. She’s so fucking tight it hurts, smooth and hot squeezing around him and Dean. It’s a different kind of intimacy to share someone like this, to be crushed so close together.

Reaching around her, Sam grabs one of Dean’s wrists, pulls  his hand to her waist. Dean’s panting, his knees knocking against Sam’s sides. Sam rests a hand on Dean’s thigh, caresses him almost gently.

Dragging his other hand up Ruby’s back, Sam squeezes the back of her neck and leans her forward. Dean shifts his hand, wraps an arm around her back, fingers trailing lightly over smooth skin until he finally gives up and digs his blunts nails against her, drags her chest to his face. His hips jerk up, fucking into her, and Sam grips both his hands on her waist to bounce her on their cocks. Ruby, trapped between them, moans in a way that sounds pained but Sam can feel her cunt dripping wetly onto them.

Dean’s grunts are muffled between Ruby’s tits, but Sam can feel the way his movements turn frantic, dick rutting up alongside Sam’s, hard and hot and suddenly it’s wetter as Dean comes inside her. Ruby shakes, rolls her hips working them deeper, gasping even though she doesn’t need to breath as her body tightens around them. Pulling her down and holding her still, Sam rocks into her, leans along her back and sinks his teeth into the curve of her shoulder. He can still feel Dean’s dick twitching, Ruby turned sloppy and loose. He wants to stay like this, another moment longer, sucking a bruise into Ruby’s skin that’ll fade, but he feels the skin tear, blood welling sweet and sharp on his tongue.

He didn’t mean to, but he’s bit Dean hard enough to bleed before too, it happens.

As Dean softens, Sam pulls out and moves Ruby to the side gracelessly. Standing, he takes his still hard dick in hand, covered in Dean’s come. Dean’s breathing heavy on the couch, dazed, mostly in shadow from Sam blocking the lantern. Next to them, Ruby sprawls like a cat, her chest covered in neat teeth-rings and angry bruises, Dean’s own marks scattered across her and it’s beautiful.

Sam nudges between Dean’s spread thighs, gets a hand in his hair to hold him still. Dean clenches his jaw, but Sam forces a thumb between his teeth and pries the slick pretty warmth of his mouth open, breath tickling over Sam’s knuckles and the head of his dick. He’s only a few tugs away from coming, holds Dean with a finger hooked against his lower teeth.

Dean squirms. He’s weirdly prissy about some things. He’ll eat his own come out of Sam’s ass, but flinches when Sam pulls out of someone else to come on his face.

Sam’s lit up from within, fevered and tight and restless. He spills on Dean, between his lips and over freckled cheeks, dripping thickly. Sam loosens his hold to stroke the rough stubble over Dean’s jaw and bends down to kiss him, too perfect and all for Sam and he can’t resist Dean like this.

Before he can taste himself on Dean’s lips, Dean startles and presses back against the couch. Ruby laughs and her eyes are keen as she watches Sam. Dean shoves at his hip, leaning around him to grab the lantern off the table and hold it up towards Sam’s face. Near blinded and surprised, Sam almost falls on his ass with his jeans still tangled around his ankles.

“What the fuck?” Sam blinks, grimacing.

Dean cringes away from Ruby, lowers the lantern as he scowls at Sam. “Could have sworn your eyes were black for a second there.”

“Just a trick of the light.” Sam shrugs.

He doesn’t like how Ruby’s smiling at him.

Last night…

• I was caned for the first time in Y E A R S??
• I was forced to orgasm multiple times while being caned
• I was face fucked to tears with *~*~*~more orgasms
  
• I fell asleep covered in cum

Today…

• I have a bruised butt 

The other night I was having a hard time sleeping; I just couldn’t relax, my mind was racing. I would wrestle my conscious mind into submission, then sleep would come but it would only last a REM cycle before I’d jolt awake.

I don’t know, maybe about 5am or thereabouts. I was focusing on my breathing. Deep breathes to relax, to bring slumber back. I heard my phone buzz, a text message. Who the fuck is texting me at 5am? The light from my screen punched through the darkness in my room. It was none other than Cooper, one of my good buddies (it should have been obvious). He would be the only one who’d text me this late… or early. I can look at it in the morning. I need to sleep.

Rolling over attempting to turn back to sleep I suddenly found myself in a new bed, a new room, it wasn’t my own. I didn’t recognize where I was, but there was a man in the corner. He was naked, I couldn’t make out his face, but his body was perfectly clear. He had the perfect smattering of hair, the right amount of muscle and definition. His cock was fat and flaccid while his balls were full and tight. He oozed authority and control. Who was he? Was he my buddy? Was he my ex-boyfriend? Was he one of the porn stars I watched and jacked off to? Or was he one of the studs I lusted after at the club? Was he all of them? None of them? As I took him all in he came toward me. He held me down then he placed his perfect cock and balls over my face.

Drink my piss, boy. Drink all of it. Don’t waste a fucking drop, faggot. My bladder is full and you’re going to take it all straight from the tap.

I shook my head, no. Something about him made me nervous. I was frightened. What was happening? He slapped my face. Drink my piss, boy! Do it! Now!

I still resisted. He kept slapping me, instructing me to open my mouth and obey. Finally he slapped me as hard as he could and spit a heavy load of his saliva right on my face. I could no longer disobey, I was his in that moment. I opened my mouth. SIR, yes, SIR!

Good boy. Silly faggot. I didn’t think I needed to slap some sense into you, but apparently I was mistaken. His piss was hot, salty, and bitter. It was full of his essence. Something came over me, I eagerly swallowed every drop without trouble. And it kept coming, but I didn’t care. Part of me didn’t want him to stop. I loved how he was using me. I needed his piss. The last drops came and I still wanted more. There you go boy. I can see how much you enjoyed drinking my urine. Don’t worry there is more where that came from.

In one easy movement he flipped me over on my stomach. Be a good bitch, faggot. His hand spanked my ass hard. Without hesitation I pushed my butt into the air. Such a good boy now. It’s always interesting to see how compliant a bellyful of Alpha piss will make a boy.

He moved behind me, rubbing his cock against me. Suddenly waves of pleasure washed over me. I moaned. I mewed. I groaned. It felt so amazing to have him teasing me like this. His motions sank me deeper and deeper into a heat, my bliss, I just needed him now. His cock hardened. His balls relaxed. I could feel how fat it was, how long, I could sense its slight upward curve perfect for breeding boys when they’re face down and their pussies are in the air.
The man then ripped my underwear down completely exposing me and slammed his cock deep inside of me. It felt amazing. I was completely full, stretched and pushed to capacity. I could feel my hole conforming to his cock. He leaned over started to growl in my ear the nastiest shit I had ever heard. His cock slamming me hard. His heavy balls slamming against me. That’s right bitch, take Daddy’s cock. Take it like the good faggot you are. You’re my fucking slut now. You do what I want, where I want it, when I want it. You’re my fucking faggot slut. Tell me how much you need me. Tell me how much you want me. Tell me what you are.

Fuck, SIR! I need you. You own me. I live for you, SIR! My hole is yours, SIR!  To use and abuse, to wreck and breed, SIR! I need you, SIR! I only can think of you, SIR! Your voice, your smell, your control, your pleasure. I’m your fucking faggot slut, SIR! I live for your pleasure, SIR, to receive your spit, piss, and cum as my reward!

Good boy! I fucking like what I hear! He continued to pound me hard. His sweat dripping down onto my back and neck. His breath and voice heavy in my ear. All I could do was moan, mew, and beg for him. He tongued and bit my ear. I moaned and begged louder. I was being overwhelmed by the pleasure of being his piece of fuck meat. Then he growled loudly and I felt volley after volley of his hot seed inside of me. I had never felt a man cum inside of me, I had never felt a man’s cock convulse as he filled me with his seed. It was amazing. I could feel the heat from his nut and it landing deep inside of me. My hole was completely his, I was completely his. His cum was going to be inside of my forever. His groan began to fade.

I jolted awake. My cock was hard as a rock, bulging in my underarmor – a large stain of pre-cum on the outside. I looked at my phone, there was no text message. It had all been so vivid. It had all been a dream. Closing my eyes I hoped I could sink back into the dream, find that man there ready to use me again.