(Not part of the stories I’ve been sending previously, FYI.) It hurt. A lot. It wasn’t the worst pain Cas had ever had - he’d carved a path through hell once, and spent some time with Leviathans squirming between the atoms of his being. And… it wasn’t ALL hurt. Little candle-flames of pleasure ate away at his self-control. Mostly because of where Dean was working. If he’d been chaining down his legs, or arms, or even another part of his true form, it probably would have just hurt.  But his wings… that was a different story.  And a set of feelings and sensations he’d been hoping to experience under a different set of circumstances. Dean hummed while he worked. It would have been so easy for Cas to pretend that Dean was fine. But his hands were feverish - so hot that they felt cold. The chains bit into Cas’s wrists, and the stone slab was warm underneath his bare back, comfortably warm. He’d been wounded in the fight, and the sigils around the room weren’t helping him stay alert either… it was so warm in here… And if Dean could stop playing with his wings for one minute… He felt the chain over the elbow of his wing tighten, and another length thread through his feathers. Cas bit his tongue, a spark of pleasure ticking down his spine as his feathers were rubbed the wrong way, and the warm metal settled snugly against his skin. He resisted the urge to arch off the slab, fighting off that pleasurable pain. But before he had the chance to gather himself, Dean slipped a hand under him and grabbed at a patch of feathers where his wing met his back, twisting his fingers through it. Cas cried out at the sensation, stars dancing in his eyes. He strained against his creaking chains, lean muscle pulling tight and standing up like ropes on his arms, his shoulders, his neck. His chained wings shuddered in their chains, feathers bristling. ‘Dean~!’ he moaned. Dean smiled, watching him shudder and twist in his bonds as he played with his oily feathers.  ‘Took me a while to find spells and stuff to bind you, Cas,’ said Dean. He’d left his eyes green, for old times sake. ‘The stuff down here makes Bobby’s library look like kids books. It’s huge, but it’s got everything you could want.’ ‘Dean, please…’ And suddenly Dean was straddling him on the stone slab, sitting on Cas’s crotch, and Cas felt himself buck against him, desperate for friction, keening. Dean’s grin was wicked. ‘Can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to see you like this, Cas.’ He trailed his other hand down the angel’s bare, glistening chest.  Cas panted, realizing that part of him had wanted this too. And then Dean ground his hips down into Cas and the angel’s mind blanked, wings shuddering as he groaned. Dean grinned. ‘Yeah, my thoughts too, buddy.’