This story is dedicated to my own angel, Kibblebeast. Much feathery love to you! Enjoy.

A breaking of glass, a scream, a smell of blood- Dean awakes in Baby with a cold sweat, shaking with a recurring nightmare that has been plaguing him for the last five days. Sam sleeps beside him, soundly for once, his hands wrapped around his laptop. Gingerly, Dean opens the door and steps out into the fresh air, the morning sun glinting over the trees.

'Couldn't get any fresher than parking at a damn field.' He chuckles to himself as he walks over to the clutter of trees, needing a slush. The past few weeks had been hard, with one thing and another – stopping the Apocalypse hadn't gone to plan and Adam had ended up dead (again) in that graveyard. Lucifer had wiped himself off the radar god knows how and gone back to his hole. All that was left was to keep moving, keep hunting and sticking together, like they always did.

Doing up his fly Dean turns back from the patch of woods, but stops as all the trees seem to stop rustling, the wind down low and even the birds don't make a sound. The silence continues and Dean turns eyeing up his surroundings slowly bringing out Ruby's knife.

'Hello, Dean.' Said a soft, rusky voice behind him, the silence now broken by the rustle of his wings. He knew only one person could own such a voice – and he turned to face him.

'Michael.' He looks him up and down, his father's face unnerving him as he feels every fibre in his being wanting to obey him. 'I'd ask what brings you here, seeing as your son of a bitch brother isn't in sight.'

'That isn't why I am here. I am here to make you change your mind on saying yes to me.' The archangel walks closer to Dean, even in a human vessel he gives an air of power, a majestic air so high everything created in nature seemed to bow to him.

'Well you know that isn't going to happen. You need some therapy pal – you are running on a one track record!' Dean's eyebrows knit together in frustration, his thoughts back to Sammy all alone in the car.

'Dean, Dean, Dean.' Says Michael soothingly, his finger slowly rising to his lips. 'Please, there is no need to shout. Raising your voice doesn't raise your authority and you know it. I can feel you quivering through the air.' He places a hand on Dean's left side, feeling his heartbeat through the material of his clothes. 'Does authority have a way with you, Dean?' Heat increases through Dean's body and he grinds his jaw together, managing just to look Michael in the eye, his mouth closed firmly. 'Because I've seen that riding with authority gives you something, gives you chills. Lucifer never really complained at a mount.

'Well, I guess we will have to see.' Michael smiles behind his finger, his eyes only leaving Dean's to flitter to his mouth and back again. He walks around him slowly, looking up at the trees, his footsteps the only sound. 'I thought you would realise from our last talk Dean that you cannot win. You are merely children in a playpen.'

'Hey, we are not the children here! You left our half –brother for dead in the blood bath at Stull Cemetery! You are one of our most wanted – a fool for walking into my path.' Even though his words exude confidence Dean shakes inside, his eye contact cutting to just behind Michael in his attempt to finish it. He waits for moment, a small banner of hope flitting across as if his words have made an effect.

Michael waits, a small smile etching across his face, his eyes sparkling. He turns to look at a bird who lands by his feet shaking its feathers. As it flies off it also catches Dean's eyesight and he seems unable to draw it away until it's out of sight. Before he can make a decision to turn back to Michael he's smashed against a tree, Michael's body pressed against his tightly. He can't move and barely speak as the wind is taken out of him. Belittled he splutters against Michael's shoulder.

'Words seem to mean nothing to you- and physical pain? Well you've seen enough and would take pleasure in dying it seems. No, since Daddy's been gone you need a new master. ' Michael looks down again to Dean's lips, smiling with his thoughts. 'I order you to your knees, Winchester.' Dean doesn't know what made him do it. Whether it was his father's face, Michael's voice or the fact he could no longer feel himself breathing. He slowly dropped to his knees on the cool earth and looked up at him like a puppy waiting to be told. The Archangel reached out a hand and caressed Dean behind the ear.

'Oh so you can be good?' Michael stepped his legs apart near Dean's face, his smile widening. 'Let me make this simple for you, hands on my belt.' He doesn't lift his hold from Dean's head.

Dean gulps, his pulse going over time and his hands rise shakily to the brown leather belt flicking open the buckle, pulling it free. A tightening grip on the back of his neck brings his eyes back to his father's, searching for what he did wrong.

'Steady now. You move ahead of instruction. Pull them down a little and take out my vessel's shaft. Slowly now, I want you to feel every ounce of flesh possible.' His eyes pierce into Dean's with such a force that Dean's hands fumble quickly, slipping over his boxers as he lifts it out. 'Good. Now-' He presses Dean's head forward with the same grip as before, licking his overly full lips. 'Why don't you wrap your whore-ish mouth around that- learn the taste of submission.'

Dean groans slightly as the smell reaches his nostrils. feeling a gap he never knew existed inside himself fill. His hands grip onto the sides of Michael's jeans, as he fills his mouth with his father's shaft, moving slowly over it with Michael's physical instruction.

'Good boy- see it's not so hard is it? This is what happens when you try to fight City Hall.' He smiles at his own reference as he strokes down Dean's cheek. 'There now, why don't you take it deeper?' He pulls Dean forward, satisfied as he hears Dean give a choke as his vessel's cock pushes to the back of his throat.

Dean gags slightly, his own erection pressing hard into his jeans. He moans as bobs, the submission to his father being a revelation- a fulfillment that he never knew he needed. The more he tasted the more edge he felt leave him, and his being seemed to quiver with Michael's very presence near him, on him even.

'I believe that with dogs, the male mounts the bitch. Now, I'm not undignified or unintelligent though I have heard you call my species many names like that. I am going to make you a soldier, an obedient one. To me.' He pulls Dean off of his knees, pushing him face first into the tree- his trousers removed in seconds, arse bare.

'What are you- no-'

'Shh, you don't need to worry, Dean. I am sure you will recover from the quivering mess I leave you in.' Michael smiles again as he maintains pressure on Dean's head against the tree his vessel's throbbing length pressing into Dean's entrance. 'Besides, my brother takes me well - and I am sure you hold yourself higher than him- you wouldn't want to shame yourself now would you?

He clamps his mouth down over Dean's neck as he forces his way in. 'Wow Dean, for a man of such interest in these activities, you are ..what's the phrase? As tight as a virgin.' He revels in Dean's exclamations mixed with moans of pain and want, thrusting forwards into him a few times. 'You know, you really are no higher than animals - I mean look what I can do to you- Dean Winchester - supposed to be my vessel, quivering in wants that make him just like an animal . A creation that we can rid the earth of. If only it was that simple - to do that, I unfortunately need a word out of you, Dean.' He continues to slam his hips into him, his fingers curling in his hair.

Dean moans against the tree, his mouth open against the bark. The feeling to be taken is out of this world, but the authority is what sends Dean in the depths of arousal. His shaft throbs against the tree and he aches to touch it, to release but the momentum of Michael against him sends him to new waves of pleasure and all he can do is shamefully moan, disgusted with himself.

Michael edges closer to Dean's ear, his shaft pulling out - all but the tip still outside him- 'Getting there Dean, we're getting there. I am sure when I am pounding into Lucifer in your brother's form you will give more than this. I want one tiny word from you. Just one, something you would call your father.'

The word is out of Dean's mouth before he can stop himself. 'Yes, Sir.'

'Hmm, is that feeling good for you Dean? To be submissive to me?'

'Yes S-sir.' Dean falls to helpless moans, his arousal reaching new heights as he feels Michael gently moving around his entrance. 'P-please-'

'Please Sir. What is it you want from me, Dean?'

'I want- want - you.' Dean bites his lip in frustration, he doesn't want to say these things.

'Well, isn't that polite?' Michael slams into him with no more words, his fingers sliding from Dean's head to his scruff pulling back on it hard. Dean feels a rip in his t-shirt as it's ripped from the front. This only makes him moan louder. With one last groan, Michael empties inside him, his hand smashing against the tree, causing it to snap in half, falling down with an echoing crack. He smiles as he slips out, doing up his fly with ease, pulling Dean around to face him.

'I'll see you soon, Dean. Remember how you crave submission and how all you need to do is say yes to get your master.' With a rustle of wings, he is gone and Dean is left breathing heavily in the middle of the trees. He holds himself up by a trunk trying to regain some control over his shaking body, He could live with the fact he had him in his mouth, even calling him sir - but what aggravates him most is the feeling of his come oozing from his length in pleasure - a want he had never known he needed to be satisfied.