Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/975188.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      catboy!dean, Master/Slave, Slave_Dean, Mating
  Series:
      Part 3 of catboys
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-21 Completed: 2013-12-01 Chapters: 2/2 Words: 4756
****** Mate ******
by BrandiChampane
Summary
     Cas' father buys him Dean as a slave, one of those rare cat breeds.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Castiel was antsy in his room, small hands fidgeting with his dress shirt as he
waited. His father is bringing his new pet home, hopefully one who follows his
rules better. All the others always complain when he wants to play dress up or
they throw a fit because they are grown men and slave to a sixteen-year-old
boy. His father always buys a new one then, instead of letting Castiel train
them his father would rather buy one who is already obedient.

Talk has traveled the city of a new breed of people, cat boys someone said, men
with tails and ears just like animals. Castiel’s mother believes it is a folk
tale, who in their right mind would believe in such a preposterous story? Cas
likes to believe though, every night he reads the same stories local writers
are printing where these half cat half human people live in jungles, hunting
and scavenging to stay alive. All of it is so exciting to Castiel, having to
stay indoors until he finishes his education.

All the other boys are allowed to work on farms or venture to other towns to
make money by selling items but Castiel is a royal boys and royal boys become
educated and join their father’s work. The boy is unsure what his father even
does most days. He yells about money frequently, sometimes he has businessmen
visit the house but Castiel prefers to stay in his room with his slave that
week and brew tea for them both. Sometimes he shuts the door and puts his slave
in a dress, or other days, when his father is attending business in town,
Castiel will let his slave dress him up in one of his mother’s garments. He
loves the soft fabric, handcrafted in town by a local seamstress just for her.

Father would be so angry if he knew Castiel enjoyed dressing that way, he tries
not to but the temptation is always strong. What is worse, worthy of heavy
punishment is when Castiel teaches his slave to kiss. Grown men know how to,
one of them taught him how to use his tongue, that was his favorite day. He
cannot be blamed completely when father is always buying strong men to cater to
him, instead of the young women others prefer. Because they can protect him, he
said one day. So, Castiel continues to kiss the strong men and wonders if one
day he will want to kiss the girl he is supposed to marry.

--

When father returns, the sun is setting and Castiel is beyond impatient. His
father, seeing the irritation in his eyes from where he stands on the
staircase, hastily introduces the new slave and explains where he is from
before a few men guide him into the living room. His hands are bound and his
posture reads submissive, even though his clenched hands indicate he would
rather not be. All the oxygen in Castiel’s lung escape when he catches the
first twitch of his new slave’s ear before both of them flattens against his
head. The rumors are true, cat hybrids exist.

His mouth is hanging open as he watches the man walk across the living room to
the stairs. From the angle, the boy notices his tail, hanging low and almost
between his legs as if he is scared. Castiel will be careful with him, scared
humans bad but an animal can be worse. He wonders how trained this man is,
being that they are new to the country and probably cannot even speak English.
He has so many questions and so much excitement in him that he hardly notices
when the man is standing a step below him, head bowed and hands fighting to
relax. Castiel touches them, squeezes his hands over them until the man looks
at him, but not in the eye, more of his forehead or nose, hard to be sure.

“Beautiful,” the word escapes him before he can catch it and he hopes his
father did not hear. The man’s ear twitches like a cat’s would reach for the
sound.

“My room, you have to come to my room.” He pulls at the man’s arms, hands still
bound, and forces him up the rest of the stairs, down a corridor, a left and
then into his bedroom.

Castiel prides himself on his cleanliness, bed made and no clutter on the
floors. In one corner, he has a tea party set up, costumes in his closet and a
few chairs in another corner. Most of the decorations were his mother’s choice,
all except the tea set, which he picked out when he was a boy visiting England.
He begged and wined until his father caved and ordered the entire set me
shipped to his home immediately. Beside his bed is a cot that his slave sleeps
on, they are supposed to sleep in the workers quarters but Castiel likes them
close in case he needs a drink of water at night, or someone to talk with.

He turns to his slave. “Do you speak? What if I want to talk to you, you need
to know English.” The man’s eyes widen, ears moving to catch the sound but he
must have a difficult time translating. Castiel presses a palm to his own
chest. “Castiel.” He presses the same palm to his slave’s chest.

The man picks up on the symbolism of the gesture, others must have used the
tactic before. He presses both bound hands to his chest. “Dean.” He moves his
hands, hovering just above Castiel’s crisp white shirt. “Cas-Cast…Cas,” the man
ducks his head in what appears to be disappointment, hands dropping back to
their resting position.

“Cas is fine.” He smiles, hoping the man understands. He is still looking at
the floor though. Castiel lifts his chin and pats his chest again. “Cas.” When
he smiles this time, the man does as well.

--

Dean takes a few days to catch onto the language but soon he is able to use
small phrases like, food, water, toilet, any that will help him communicate his
needs to Castiel. He uses his hands for most of his speaking, attempting to
point to objects and express his meanings that way. His hands are free now that
Castiel trusts him enough, the first few days are always worrisome for his
father. He thinks showing the slaves too much freedom upon their arrival will
make them spoiled.

Dean still has a tough time following certain orders because he cannot
understand what Castiel means. When he asks Dean to reach his shoeboxes he has
to point at them, when he wants a drink of water he has to make a hand motion,
the same for food. His father says they should invest in someone who speaks the
language so Castiel can play with his pet without needing to teach him as well,
but Castiel does not mind.

The man mesmerizes Castiel. Between lectures, Castiel will escape to his room
to spend his time petting Dean’s tail or ears. Dean really enjoys it when
Castiel scratches his ears or pets them gently. He guards his tail like Castiel
figures any cat would, he learned they helped animals balance as a child so he
understands. Sometimes, when Castiel is napping or working on homework, he can
feel the soft fur wrapped around his arm or leg and tries his best to stay
still to prevent disturbing the man. Maybe one day he will do the same while
Castiel is paying better attention, until then Castiel is fine with the
discreet touches.

His father leaves for a business trip in a few hours, making it difficult for
Castiel to focus on studying. All he wants is to kiss Dean, he wonders if he
kisses like other men. He bets he does not, his lips are so pink and full
unlike the other men Castiel owned. This one has to be so soft, not just
because of the fur that covers his ears or tail, but because his hands are
gentle when he hands over a glass of water and they never shake when he pours
tea for Castiel. He might be covered in muscle like a fighter but parts of Dean
are so soft Castiel cannot help but touch his hair or arms just to feel.

When the sound of carriage wheels travels from the house Castiel makes sure to
shut his door gently and click the lock into place. Dean is busy arranging his
table with appropriate cups, with their saucers beneath them. Castiel rummages
through his closet trying to decide what to wear. The sun is gone so his dress
would be wasted on the minimal lighting of his room, only a few candles and a
lamp to keep them illuminated. Further back, Castiel has a nighty that is
perfect, a sheer teal fabric that lets the air pass through and keep him cool.
He changes while Dean fixes their tea, he always remembers how much sugar and
cream Cas likes.

Dean almost drops his spoon when Castiel takes his seat. His mouth hangs open,
reminding Cas of the first day Dean arrived. He could hardly believe that
hybrids existed then, but here he is now. He wonders if he did something
unbelievable that caused Dean to gasp like he did. He smiles and guides Dean’s
hand to drop the spoon on a napkin and closes his mouth for him.

“Dean,” he begins, only loud enough for them to hear. “I want to kiss you.”

“Kiss you?” Castiel’s smile widens as he leans forward.

“Kiss.” He presses his lips to Dean’s, the man’s are just a soft and plump as
he imagined them. Dean gasps in his mouth and pulls away before Castiel can
teach him to use his tongue.

“No kiss.” He is breathing hard and he will not meet Castiel’s eye.

“Yes, kiss.” Castiel lifts his chin until he is looking again. “Kiss.” He tries
again but Dean will not budge this time, neck stiff against Castiel’s palm. He
huffs and drops his hand, his tea will probably go cold if he does not drink it
now but he is too upset.

Castiel scoots out of his chair, unexcused, and marches over to his bed. He
cannot be bothered to pull the covers down as a result, he lays on top of them
and curls into his nighty. The fabric has little give but he fits his knees
into it well enough. He pulls his pillow to his chest and holds it tightly,
upset because all the other workers kissed him but Dean refuses to, and Dean is
his favorite. He knows he is being a little brat but it is Dean’s fault for
denying him. The boy feels something soft brush his leg and sits up to find
Dean standing over him, head bowed and the traces of a frown.

“Kiss for mates,” he says, gravel voice breaking through his hushed tone.

“Then we’re mates.” Castiel has heard of men who court their wives before they
marry. Maybe Dean means to say dates, but either way he just wants to kiss and
if dating will help Dean then fine. Not like he never dated his slaves before,
there was Samandriel the man who taught how to kiss like men do. Castiel made
him tea and had the cooks bring them a special meal once a week, afterward they
would kiss until his lips hurt.

One of Dean’s hands touches the fabric of Castiel’s nighty making him shiver.
He grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him down until Dean is close enough to kiss,
breath warm over his mouth before he presses their lips together. He coaxes
Dean to open his mouth with his tongue and Dean understands right away. Kissing
Dean is better than the other slaves because he has experience and his lips are
soft and full, Castiel thinks he will never stop until Dean does.

“Mates,” he whispers before climbing onto Castiel’s bed. He slots their hips
together, heavy body pressing down on Castiel’s, something he only experienced
once because Samandriel was the only slave who liked to play this far.

Castiel can feel how hard Dean is as he presses against him and kisses his
neck. Dean must be confused because kissing is for lips but when he nibbles on
Castiel’s neck, he concedes that kisses in other places are just as fun. Dean
grinds his hips into Castiel’s making him moan and clutch the man’s shoulders.
Dean does it again and Castiel wants to play more, go further because Dean
opens up so many opportunities for fun. Castiel pushes Dean away a moment so he
can lift up his nighty and pull his underpants down. Dean is a slave so he is
always naked and Castiel loves that about him, makes it easier to know just how
turned on Dean is when he rubs against him.

Dean takes Castiel’s lack of trousers as incentive to press a finger against
his hole, only to draw it back confused almost. He rubs his fingers together
before sticking them both into his mouth and sucking. Suddenly, the boy knows
where Dean is trying to go with this, wet fingers sliding against his hole as
he clenches. He has never gone so far with any of the other slaves and he
begins to worry about giving himself wholly to this hybrid, and what if his
father abandons him like the others? Castiel wants to think he can get over the
consequences but only time will tell. He relaxes and allows one of Dean’s
fingers to enter.

“Mates,” he repeats, working a second finger in Castiel. The boy can only grip
his shoulders and control his panting as the man pumps his fingers in and out
roughly. He tries for a nod and Dean slides a third finger in, making Castiel
too full. Cas covers his mouth to stifle the gasp that leaves when Dean slides
his fingers in further and it all feels so good, the burn subsiding enough for
Castiel really enjoy it.

“Yes,” he widens his legs for Dean, pulling his nighty up his hips. Castiel
follows Dean’s earlier motion and spits in his hand before stroking the man, he
is fully hard and Castiel worries he will be too much. He wants more than
fingers though, so he pulls away from the man’s hand and positions his cock
against his hole.

“Mates,” Dean voice is strained and rough as he pushes in, too harsh for
Castiel and he cries out against his own palm trying to stay quiet. He wants to
tell Dean that dates do not go so far, not until marriage. Maybe Dean really
means mates, maybe he thinks he is Castiel’s mates now. He wants to be worried
about the prospect of accidentally mating with his slave but Dean begins to
move and it feels too good to think.

Castiel sinks into the mattress and allows Dean to set a brutal pace. If all
sex is rough like this then he worries he will not please his wife in the
future but maybe it is different for others, he will have to experiment more.
With Dean, perhaps. Dean sinks into him so easily that Castiel worries he will
be ruined for a wife in the future, perhaps she will have trouble pleasing him.
His nails dig into Dean’s skin as the man finds something inside of him that
makes him burn with pleasure. His moans are echoing against his walls now and
he worries mother will hear and come running to his room.

Dean makes him so full and he hates the idea of being empty again. He wants
Dean to stay and do this every day, he never knew he could feel this good
before, touching himself has never felt so right. He throws his head back on
the pillow and moans as he orgasms, coming against Dean’s chest and ruining his
nighty, causing the man to moan and thrust harder inside of him. Dean continues
to hit the spot that makes him feel good and he thinks he will be hard again
but then Dean comes and collapses on top of him, body heavy and covered in
sweat. Neither of them move for what feels like a century, both catching their
breath. Dean is the first to speak.

“Mates,” he lifts himself onto his elbows to look down at the boy.

“Mates.” He pulls Dean down to kiss him as grownups do. “Husband,” he rests his
palm on Dean’s chest. “Wife.” He touches his own. Dean seems to understand
because he begins kissing Castiel in earnest, leaving them both panting.

“Wife.” Castiel listens to him purr and smiles to himself.
***** Bath time *****
Chapter Summary
     Dean hates baths.
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Castiel has owned Dean for a month without his father complaining which means
he will be able to keep him for longer if he continues to be good. For a while,
Dean has only helped Castiel in his bedroom, cleaning mostly. He makes the bed,
organizes things that way Castiel asks. Castiel even lets him set up the tea
set when he wants to play with Dean and other days he’ll let him pick the
outfit. Dean knows where to place the silverware now and is good at kneeling by
Cas’ feet when he is asked.

They play married when Father is away, Castiel only letting Dean go all the way
a few times. Without proper lubrication, Castiel is always left feeling sore
for days so he can’t let Dean inside all the time, no matter how much he wants
it. Today, he has a plan. Father is gone and Castiel can give his slave a nice
treat while getting one is return. He shuffles across his bedroom to his closet
where he keeps a set of towels his mother bought him, they are soft and warm,
perfect. He picks out two of them, then moves around his closet to find
something nice to wear afterwards. He shuts the closet and turns to Dean who is
waiting at the end of his bed, legs crossed in front of him as he has seen Cas
do a number of times. His ears perk when Castiel smiles at him, smiling in
return.

“Follow me,” he instructs. Dean knows the language a little better now and
definitely knows an order when he hears one. He hops off the side of the bed
and stands close behind Cas, close enough for him to feel his body heat.

Castiel locks his door behind him when he leaves. He trusts his father’s
servants well enough but he does own a few too many dresses. The last thing he
needs is a maid black mailing him for owning such feminine lingerie. Even if he
could play it off as belonging to a woman, it’s still embarrassing. Dean stays
close behind him as he walks down the corridor, the hall is empty except for a
few cleaners who are organizing shelves. He smiles at them and tugs Dean down
the hall, the man following easily behind.

Dean’s never been down theses halls before because Father makes servants wash
out in the shed in a large basin that holds more dirt than water. He rolls his
eyes and curses his father under his breath, tugging Dean along behind him.
From what the other servants say, Dean despises bath time, clawing and hissing
at everyone who tries to force him into the basin. It takes a few of the men to
get him and then the woman have to scramble to scrub him before he wriggles out
again. Not today though, Dean is going to have to get over his little fear of
water.

He turns the corner to his favorite shower room, Father owns three of them for
whatever reasons he find suitable. The whole house is too large for their small
family but he is not the one making decisions. He opens up the door and orders
Dean through it, locking the door behind him. Dean has never seen a proper
shower before, eyes scanning the room with confusion, he turns around to face
Castiel waiting for an explanation. Castiel only smiles and pushes past him
into the area where the spout hangs over the ornate basin. He turns the knobs
and tests the water before finding a plug for the tub.

Dean realizes soon enough what the room is for, growling low in his throat and
turning around to scrabble at the door. He manages to chip the wood a small
amount for Castiel catches him by the hand and pulls him away. Dean hisses at
him so Castiel pinches his bare bottom, making Dean hiss again and grab his
butt. His determination to leaves dies down enough for Castiel to tug him
towards the basin. The waters have barely filled halfway and Castiel can feel
the tremble in Dean’s hand beneath his, he kisses his rough hands and smiles at
him in an attempt to comfort him.

“It’s just a bath, not scary at all,” he uses his free hand to dip into the
water, placing his wet hand over Dean’s chest. He flinches, growl deep in his
throat so Castiel keeps his hand still. He trusts his slave enough to know he
will never hurt him but Dean can be wild when he feels threatened.

“Relax, you’ll enjoy it in a moment,” he releases Dean’s hand and orders him to
kneel by the tub, mostly to keep him from trying to run away. Dean’s eyes are
wide as he watches the water pour into the tub, hands trembling on his thighs
and tail flicking around. Castiel strips quickly, tossing his dirty clothes in
a basket the maids will check in the morning.

When he is finished his body his shivering slightly from the cold while the
steam takes it’s time warming up the room. His nipples are pert from the cold
and goose bumps are crawling up his skin, Dean must be cold as well, always
naked all the time. The water is just over the halfway mark when he steps into
the tub, he sinks below the water as quickly as possible to warm up again. Dean
is still kneeling, watching him with his mouth gape like Castiel just did
something bad. He giggles and flicks a small amount of water over Dean’s chest,
he shuts his mouth a frowns at the boy. The water seems high enough so he
stretches and turns the knobs over the tub.

“Are you going to come in or do I need to assemble a team?” Dean tilts his head
in confusion trying to translate Castiel’s words.

“In,” he says instead, pointing to the water. He scoots the back of the tub to
make room for Dean. Dean’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head a few times.

“Dean, in,” he commands firmer this time. Dean sighs and his ears drop. He
peers into the water as if a monster will jump out at him.

“No,” he whispers at the water, voice stern enough to sound serious.

“Dean, please. You’ll like it, I promise.” Dean shakes his head at the water,
swallows thickly and backs away a few inches.

“I’ll make you sleep in the stables if you don’t,” it’s a weak threat, Castiel
never follows through on his punishments. Dean seems to perk at the thought
though, he stands uneasily and walks to the edge of the tub. He is careful to
break the surface with one toe, then withdraws his foot and walks away from the
tub, backing against the far wall. He shuts his eyes and inhales deeply a few
times.

Feeling brave again, Dean walks towards the tub with conviction, chest puffed
out like a proud warrior. Castiel would giggle at how silly he looks but he is
trying for encouraging so he holds it back and coaxes Dean towards the tub.

“That’s it Dean, so brave, it’s so nice in here.”

Dean steps in with one foot, then the other. The water shakes around him, tail
held high to avoid being wet. He has to sit sooner or later, taking the plunge
quickly so water splashes over the edge of the tub. He keeps his eyes shut a
while to adjust to the water around him, shivers making the water ripple.

“It’s okay Dean,” Castiel soothes, scooting closer so he can rub Dean’s arms.
He whimpers, then coughs to cover it.

“Good. Now do you want your prize for being so brave.” The water makes
Castiel’s skin slick and the soap will help, he knows from touching himself on
occasion. This is will be good for both of them. Dean tears his gaze from the
water long enough to notice Castiel sliding closer to him, he nods, ears
perking at the sight of Castiel’s nakedness.

“Yes, please.” So polite like Castiel taught him. He reaches around the man to
fetch a bar of soap, his favorite one the smalls like vanilla. He lathers his
hands and settles over Dean’s hips, squeezing him with his thighs to stay
floating. The first touch is wonderful, unlike the usual tug and burn when he
does this dry.

Castiel leans against Dean while he opens himself, one finger at first, then a
second when he feels brave. Dean is panting beneath, cock hardening when he
realizes what Castiel is doing.

“Are we mating?” Dean never says the word fucking, or even sex, always mating.
Castiel whimpers against his shoulder and shifts his hips to press a third
finger in.

“Yes, we’re mating.” He moans into Dean’s neck trying to keep quiet so none of
the servants hears him.

Dean searches under the water for Castiel’s hand, pulling it away when he finds
it. Castiel makes him wait so he can soap up his hands first. Dean’s fingers
are thicker so he can only take two at first, the third one burning when it
enters. Dean works quick, eager now that he knows his prize will be fucking
Castiel. He twists his fingers a few more times before pulling them out, lining
up his cock before Castiel can make it slick. The head nudges his hole and he
clenches before he can enter.

“Patience,” he hisses. He grabs Dean’s cock and holds it a little too tight
while he works on finding the soap somewhere at the bottom of the tub. He
retrieves it and slicks Dean up and sink onto him slowly. Dean groans a little
too loud, echoing in the small bathroom.

“Quiet,”

“Sorry, wife,” he grunts. Castiel forgives him and lifts on Dean’s cock, the
glide easier than it is dry. He stifles a groan and picks up the pace, water
sloshing over the edge of the tub. A maid will clean it later, he’s enjoying
the ride too much to really care about keeping tidy.

Dean takes over, thrusting into Cas with quick pumps of his hips. He must be
riding a sort of high from being the water with Cas, fear and adrenaline making
him eager to finish. He’s a little too rough, hands bruising Castiel’s hips.
Castiel doesn’t mind, he loves little reminders of Dean when they’re finished.
He reaches below the water to stroke his cock in time with Dean’s thrusts,
loving the way he slips in and out so easily with the water to soften
everything. He comes, seed mixing with the water. He will need to refill the
tub for a proper bath and Dean will be upset to know that he actually has to
get clean after this. He keeps the bit of information to himself while Dean
continues to thrust his hips, biting into Castiel’s neck when he comes.

Castiel sneaks a hand below the water and pulls the plug, most of the water
seeping out before Dean even notices. He turns the knobs and water spills over
Dean’s side, startling him. He cock bumps against Cas’ insides, cock still
nestled in him and he squawks at the movement. Dean has them separated and out
of the water before he has time to complain though.

“You still have to bathe,” he promises, Dean holding him to his chest like an
infant. He wraps his legs around him to keep from slipping onto the dirty
floor.

“I’ll give you another prize if you let me clean you.” Dean analyzes the tub a
moment and growls, stepping one foot into the water first.
Chapter End Notes
     I was asked to make an addition so here it is.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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