Warnings/Squicks: Oh gods, I tried to fill a prompt!
Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been, never will be
AN1: The original prompt as posted by ember_firedrake at the Dean/Cas Kink Meme was: Dean is turned on by the fact that his pushy angel is completely powerless to boss him around, and decides to make Castiel lose his composure further. (Maybe even try to help Castiel get his voice back, by doing things to him that would normally make a person cry out) Castiel tries to protest at first, but for obvious reasons is unable. He can only communicate in gasps and facial expressions (and his obvious arousal for Dean). Bonus points if his true voice begins to creep through when the sensations become too much for him. ;) He can regain use of his vocal cords by the end of the story, or not. It's up to you. :)
A curse of some sort renders Castiel speechless, unable to use his vocal cords. Jimmy's, that is, though he can't use his true voice for fear of harming Dean.
I apologize in advance, I'm fairly certain I didn't get the level of Castiel protests where you wanted… sorry.
AN2: Title from Richard Garnett, "When Silence speaks for Love she has much to say."
~~~~~~~~~
Dean Winchester was more than accustomed to being surprised by his angel. Over the past year, the angel had virtually made a science of the act, but this- this scared Dean.
"Cas?" Dean's eyes were wide with shock, hands grappling at his swaying angel. "Cas, buddy? Talk to me, dude. What happened?"
Castiel tried to stand, his hand scrambling at Dean for support, eyes drilling into Dean imploringly.
"Sam!" Dean yelled, then to his angel, "I gotcha, Cas. I gotcha."
The urgency and panic in his brother's voice had the younger Winchester at his side in an instant. "Christ, Dean, what happened?"
Together they led the uncharacteristically quiet angel to Dean's bed.
"I got no idea, man, he just angel'd in like this."
Dean tried to nonchalantly check the angel for injuries as he offered his own bulk to support him.
After a few moments Castiel seemed to regain his sense of balance and composure.
Sam saw the angel collect himself and visibly sagged with relief.
Dean, on the other hand, tensed, more on edge than when Cas had all but collapsed on him.
Sam remained oblivious. "Cas, man, you had us worried. What happened?"
Deep blue eyes looked to Dean, trying to speak without words.
Dean closed his eyes, lowering his head in understanding. "He can't answer you, Sammy," the elder Winchester growled.
"What?"
"He can't talk, Sam!" he yelled, more from his own feeling of helplessness than anything else.
"Cas?" Sam looked to the angel for confirmation.
Cas nodded. That one gesture as deafening as a scream.
---
An hour later, thanks to Sam's laptop, Sam and Dean had yet another reason to hate angels. It seemed that somehow Zach had located Cas and tried to kill him. By some miracle (Dean snorted at the though) he'd failed, succeeding only in destroying Jimmy's vocal chords. Cas was fairly certain they would heal, eventually- to be honest he was still trying to understand how he'd survived, a feat he seemed to be doing quiet often.
"What can we do for him?"
"I don't know Sam, but you can start by remembering he's right here."
"Sorry, man," he gave the angel a depreciating half-smile apology and was met with a quiet nod in reply.
"You should stay with us or at Bobby's until you can talk again," Dean said, knowing how vulnerable he'd be without his voice.
Castiel's eyes hardened and he shook his head.
"To bad, Cas. You're too important to let you go around with your mojo weakened and your voice awol."
The angel's expression didn't soften, but he showed no outward signs of protest.
Dean nodded in satisfaction, "At least that's settled."
***
Castiel sat at the small table by the window of the Winchester's motel room. The brothers themselves asleep on the room's two double beds.
This forced silence was a strange feeling for him. He was growing accustomed to being on his own and the silence that went with it. He was even beginning to accept the loss of his brethren's voices that, before he rebelled, always hummed in the back of his mind, a constant current of belonging. But this silence- he could no longer defend himself, no longer comfort Dean, no longer speak for himself- it was debilitating.
Dean stirred in his sleep, stretching, bleary eyes focusing on his angel. "Hey, Cas," he whispered. "Come to bed."
The angel shook his head. He would love lo lay next to his hunter with his warmth wrapped around him in a way only Dean could manage, but he wasn't sure it was the right time, especially with Sam in the next bed.
"What, Sam?" Dean sat up and rubbed his face in his hands. "We've been wanting to tell him, he's a big boy he can deal."
Castiel's eyes lit up at Dean's words, he'd never heard Dean so sure of their relationship and Sam's reaction to it.
"Now, come to bed," he said emphatically, throwing the blankets aside for his angel.
Silently, Cas obeyed his hunter, removing his trench, suit jacket, and shoes before sliding into bed next to Dean.
The mortal's arms closed around the angel, "You know, I could get used to this."
Cas furrowed his brow.
"You having to listen to me."
The angel glowered, pulling away from Dean and narrowing his expressive blue eyes at him.
"Is it that bad?" he asked, sliding them so that the angel was beneath him, hips gently pressing against hips.
A breathy gasp escaped Cas' throat, his eyes darting furtively to the opposite bed. He closed his eyes and whimpered.
Following his gaze, Dean chuckled, a mischievous glint twinkled in Dean's mossy eyes. "At least we won't have to worry about you waking up the neighbours," he teased, knowing full well he was the more vocal of the pair."
Licking the shell of Cas' ear, Dean began kissing a trail along the angel's jaw line to his chin down his elegant throat to the loosened collar of his shirt. Dean made quick work of the tie, working the buttons expertly, uncovering the angel's smooth chest.
The beautiful, milky pale skin stretched out just for him, like a saucer of milk laid before a hungry cat. He reacted accordingly, lathing swath after swath of moist tongue over the flesh, nipping every now and then just to feel his angel jump.
Writhing beneath him, Castiel fisted his hands, white knuckled, into the sheets, wanting to cry out, to beg, but he couldn't, no matter how badly he wanted it. He was mute and helpless.
Two dusky peaks broke the perfect paleness of Cas' chest, nubs to be tormented and cherished with first a lick around the nipple's peak, then the scrap of teeth, not quite biting the tender flesh.
His angel whined and mewled, bucking up against the hunter. The breathy noises more intoxicating and erotic than any aphrodisiac.
Fingers played and danced over the pure skin, extracting yet more wondrous sounds from his angel- grunts, moans, and mewls generously coated in want, desire, need.
Dean merely smiled, he loved having this much control over Cas. He loved that Cas trusted him enough to allow it. He suckled on Cas' nipple, hard and soft, lapping a it lovingly after painful bites. His hands moved to Cas' hips holding him down, stilling his wild bucking and grinding.
Once he'd stilled, plaintiff mewls falling from his lips seeming to beg more elegantly than any words the angel could have said, Dean went to work on his slacks, unbuttoning and unzipping the deep blue material.
Looking up at his angel, he kissed his chest, "Okay?"
Castiel nodded.
Dean dipped his head and began kissing his way down Cas' chest, down past his navel to the rough curls below. He nuzzled against Cas, darting a kiss to the juncture of hip and pelvis.
The swift move 'causing the angel to buck and mewl louder. Something in the sound Cas made was utterly otherworldly and amazingly beautiful for it.
"That's my angel," Dean blew across Cas' throbbing erection as he spoke. "So beautiful, all mine, at my mercies."
His pink tongue snaked out and licked the dribble of pre-cum rolling lazily down Castiel's tip.
Again the wonderful ethereal noise came from his angel.
Dean spared a glance towards his still sleeping brother, before returning to more important and more fulfilling things.
Without further warning Dean covered Cas' erection and sucked him down, deep. Dean held the angel's hips as he tried to trust into the warm heat now encompassing him. Trying to sooth the angel's strangled cry with soft touches and caresses along his side and upper leg.
Soon the angel's guttural sounds were slowing, becoming more needy and wanton and with every change in suction or pressure- a bit more of that majestic sound escaped.
Steadily, he worked Castiel's long, hard flesh, then, in a powerful motion, Dean plunged Cas' length into his mouth as far as it would go- it's tip nudging the back of his throat- then he swallowed.
Castiel screamed, not with his 'voice' but with his 'voice'. The windows of the small motel room rattled and the bedside lamps cracked, light bulbs exploding in tiny showers of glass and sparks as the angel came in long heated spurts down his hunter's throat.
Dean hungrily took every loving pulse of his angel, suckling him clean before letting him fall from his swollen lips.
He smiled at his angel, relaxed and sated, crawling up the bed to lay next to him and pull him into his arms once again.
Dean looked at the room, then looked at Sam, still sound asleep. His eyes narrowed and he leered at Cas, "You whammied him before I woke up."
The pink flush rapidly covering Castiel's face was answer enough.
"You sneaky little angel," Dean laughed with pride.
Narrowed eyes glared disapprovingly at Dean, looked down between them then back up to his hunter's eyes.
"Alright, not little," he kissed Cas' forehead, "still sneaky though."
The angel nodded his approval and settled in to wait for Dean to fall asleep.
---
Cas wriggled away from Dean, sitting up as if to leave their bed, already missing the comfort freely flowing through his hunter's embrace.
A warm, lazy hand snaked around Cas' waist, pulling him flush to Dean's chest. "Where do you think you're going?"
He jutted his chin at the table and chair.
"No, you stay."
Blue eyes trailed pointedly over Sam's bed.
Dean understood. "Stop worrying." He'd deal with the fallout from his brother when it came. Until then, he had an angel to protect, "Let me take care of you for once." He caressed his angel's lightly stubbled cheek, "Please."
The angel's expression softened and he nodded, laying his head back, onto Dean's shoulder.
"Thank you," Dean whispered, easing them back down, a death-grip on his angel as he drifted off into a tender sleep.
***
To his surprise, the fallout Dean was expecting in the morning never came.
Sam had taken one look at the room and at his brother sleeping peacefully entwined with their resident angel and smiled. Sam did eventually wake him, but it was with a hot cup of coffee and a quiet smirk, "About damn time."