Chapter Text
True to his word, Castiel—to Dean’s surprise dressed in his tunic—came out with the staff each time, serving Dean and Dean alone. It earned him quite a few jealous looks from his guests. He never even had to ask for more wine. Castiel magically sensed when his glass was empty and hurried out to refill it. As for entertainment, Dean had rented a violinist. He’d made sure to keep the alcohol flowing so nobody would look too deep into why Castiel wasn’t actually performing for the guests. They were at the dessert and cheese stage of the feast when one of the guests, Azazel, eventually spoke up. “This is all fine and dandy, Winchester.” Azazel strictly refused to call Dean ‘Campbell’. “But we came here to see your new slave perform.”
“Oh, but we’re seeing him.” Another guest, Alastair, chimed in. “And I have to say, he is quite a lovely specimen. Well done, Dean. He must have cost you a small fortune.”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “What can I say? If I see something I want, I must have it.” He faked a raucous laugh and the others joined in.
“I see, I see.” Azazel winked, giving him a sleazy smile. Dean wasn’t sure what this was about, but he didn’t like it at all.
The next time Castiel came out to bring Dean a slice of cherry pie—the only common food Dean had allowed to be added to the feast— Azazel reached out to slap Castiel’s ass when he was on his way back into the kitchen.
Castiel reacted immediately, wings flaring out and one hand going to Azazel’s throat. The angel knocked the chair over and pinned Azazel to the ground, growling at him.
Dean was out of his seat immediately and placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “Castiel. That’s enough. I think he learned his lesson.”
Castiel gave a minuscule flinch, only visible to Dean, who knew him by now and immediately pulled in his wings and let go. He stood up and bowed his head to Dean.
“Winchester!” Azazel wheezed, pulling himself up from the ground. Nobody was helping him. “Are you just gonna let a slave treat me like that?”
Dean glared at him. “You’re lucky I don’t make him throw you out, Azazel.” Dean was enraged. “You do not get to touch what is mine. I thought I’d made it clear already that I don’t like sloppy seconds and I most definitely do not share.”
“But you’re fucking a slave.” Azazel protested. “You can’t tell me he hasn’t gone through a multitude of hands before you.”
Castiel raised his head and decided to answer before Dean could come up with something. “I will have you know that I was untouched before Master Campbell tamed me. You may go through my records if you must.” Castiel stroked one of his wings along Dean’s back and Dean almost forgot to keep his cold expression.
Azazel still looked murderous but all the other guests sitting around looked very impressed. Dean felt a little faint and was quite happy when Castiel led him back to his chair.
“May I bring you a glass of Whiskey to make up for the disturbance, Master?”
“You may.” Dean managed to wave him off nonchalantly, betraying his inner turmoil. And here Castiel had said he wouldn’t perform. If that wasn’t a performance, then Dean didn’t know what was. He wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to thank Castiel for this. When Castiel came back with a single tumbler full of golden liquid, he offered it to Dean and then actually knelt down right by his side. Dean blinked in shock, just staring at him. “Master, may I stay? Of course you may send me away but I miss your firm hand in my hair.” Castiel purred softly as his masters fingers caressed his scalp. “Thank you, Master.” Castiel purred, clasping his wrist in front of himself and bowing his head. He was the picture of a docile, happy slave, but the tunic revealed his muscled form and thanks to the little display from before, everyone had seen that his wings were majestic and intact. It would give Dean an incredible reputation that he’d managed to have the angel submit to him. Dean tried hard to hide his feelings. Castiel was acting, performing for him. And yet he wasn't sure the sounds of pleasure escaping the man's lips were entirely an act. 'a man'. He thought a second later.
Later, when the last of the guests had left. Castiel rose from his place.
"I am both impressed and grateful." Dean said to Castiel in an awed voice.
"Awfully formal aren't you?"
"An after-effect of having so many... honorable gentlemen in my house I suppose."
"I hope you do not expect a repeat performance any time soon."
"I wasn't expecting it today!" Dean replied a little too quickly "That is I...I wasn't expecting you to, throw yourself into the performance so completely.”
“It was the least I could do. You could have had me killed, or at least thrown in prison for attacking a free man like that. However I do not intend to repeat the performance.”
“No, no of course not.” Dean agreed hurriedly. “But was all of it a performance?”
Castiel walked up to Dean and placed a kiss on his cheek, before leaning in to kiss him strongly on his mouth. “Wouldn't you like to know.”
“I would. Please Cass.”
“Excuse me?” The angels eyes flashed.
“Castiel.” Dean corrected himself quickly.
“How badly do you want to know?” Castiel continued teasing. “How badly do you want me?” Castiel flushed scarlet, suddenly remembering himself. “I'm sorry master. I don't know why I...I know my place, I promise. Please forgive me.”
“None of that.” Dean snapped, far more harshly than he'd intended. “Castiel, I may be your master but you are entitled to respect. From me and from yourself. Also I realized I never actually told you this directly, but I'm telling you now: I won't force you. I won't force anything on you."
Castiel stared at him, not so patiently waiting for him to go on.
"To be perfectly honest, it never crossed my mind to try anything of the sort. I don't want you to accept my 'advances' simply because you feel you have to. Having said that, I want to know and I do insist on a truthful answer: Did it give you any pleasure when I ran my head through your hair? And would you permit me to touch you like that again?”
“I still don't understand why you're even concerned.” Castiel admitted. “Truthfully I've never felt a welcome... a comforting touch from a master before. And like I told you, your touch is gentle. So yes at least part of my ...reaction was sincere.”
“And the rest of it? The rest of my question?” Dean prompted.
“I would permit it. It's not my place to refuse. And what of my...physical advances?”
“Are you asking me if I feel anything when you tease me like you've been doing or if your touch is even welcome?”
Castiel laughed at that, a short, musical sound. “Which do you think?”
“I think you mean both at once. And the answer is yes. And...yes I suppose.”
“Good to know.” Castiel answered giving an infuriatingly coy smile as he walked away.
"Okay, I think that's the second time I've been thoroughly owned by my own slave.” Dean whispered to himself. 'more like the fourth.' His mind answered.
He was not inclined to disagree with himself. There was something almost alluring about his slave. Not attractive, at least not in the usual way. The man was an enigma wrapped inside an angel wearing a collar. A moment later he realized he had just referred to his angel to his slave as a man for the second time. Albeit only inside his own head. 'and honestly why shouldn't I?' He argued within himself. 'He's not a 'slave' to me. Calling him an angel does him no favors. Why shouldn't I...' He gave up the internal argument. 'because no one referred to an angel as a man. And certainly not their slave. Castiel was his own...person. Despite the collar. And that was all either of them needed to know.