Murder Mayhem

Chapter 9 *

Dean speeds back to his place, his hand on Cas' thigh the whole time. He usually doesn't bring Cas back to his house, but this time he did only because his house is closer. And he's so turned on right now, all he can think about is Cas squirming and whimpering beneath him.

Dean jerks to a stop in his driveway and immediately is at Cas again. Cas seems a bit shocked by his ferocity, but he doesn't pull away.

Dean grabs a hold of Cas' hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. Dean goes on to suck and bite there. Cas gasps in pain then it turns to moans of pleasure. Dean can't help but think of the warm blood that runs in the veins beneath Cas' skin. Blood that is calling out to Dean, begging to be spilled, and for some reason this turns him on even more. It also makes him more aggressive.

"Ow!" Cas exclaims, pulling away, his hand going up to his neck. Dean must have bitten a little too hard.

"I'm sorry," Dean grumbles.

"It's okay," Cas murmurs. "Can we go inside? The car is kinda cramped." Cas removes his hand and Dean slots the angry red spot on Cas' neck. He didn't bite hard enough to draw blood, but it definitely is bruising

"Yeah, let's go inside." Dean smiles.

Dean slides out of the car and walks up to the front door. Cas follows him inside. In the lighting of the hall, Dean is able to clearly see Cas' neck. Not only does it have faded marks from before, but fresh ones are clear and distinctive. And the bite mark looks even worse, but to Dean, his handiwork is beautiful.

Dean goes to kiss him again.

"Actually, I just want to go to bed," Cas murmurs, shying away. "Tonight took a lot out of me, and I just want to go to sleep." Dean stops, moving away.

"Okay, sure, you know where my room is, I'll meet you in there." Dean grumbles. He stalks off to the kitchen. He growls to himself and slams his fists on the counter. He wants Cas so bad right now. With a sigh he leaves the kitchen and head toward his room.

Cas is already fast asleep, wearing nothing but his boxers. He looks so sexy in Dean's bed like that. Dean strips down to his boxers and climbs into bed. Cas seems to automatically gravitate toward Dean, scooting closer, pressing his back against Dean's chest.

Dean wraps his arm around Cas and reluctantly falls asleep.

Dean sits up in a pitch black room. Even though he can't see a thing, he knows that he's in his own house, by the front door. He stands, moving instinctively toward his bedroom, navigating the dark house with ease.

As he nears the bedroom he starts to notice a light coming from beneath the door. The knob is missing from the door, it's just a smooth surface. That doesn't seem to matter though because with a light push the door swings open with ease.

The room is bare all except the bed, and what is on the bed turns Dean on greatly. Cas is lying on the bed, completely naked, and that's not it. His hands are tied up to the headboard and one of his ties are tied around his mouth. He looks completely vulnerable to Dean.

Dean removes his clothes in a flash, and climbs onto the bed, above Cas.

"You look so sexy," Dean murmurs, kissing Cas' neck. He reaches down, stroking Cas' member slowly. Cas moans, bucking his hips to make more friction.

"No you don't," Dean removes his hand. He uses his hand to push Cas' hips back down on the bed. "Be a good boy and hold still."

Cas nods, staring up at Dean with his beautiful blue eyes. Dean lifts Cas' legs, positioning himself. Cas groans, urging Dean to continue.

Dean thrusts into Cas, not pausing, just full throttle. Cas pulls against his restraints groaning and moaning against the cloth gagging him.

A gleam catches Dean's eyes as he's screwing Cas' brains out. A knife peaks out from one of the pillows. Dean reaches for it, as he's thrusting into Cas. Cas has his eyes closed, so he doesn't see Dean grab the knife and raise it up. He hesitates, but he plunges the blade into Cas' stomach. Cas' eyes fly open and he screams out, but it's muffled from the gag. He stares at Dean with terror, unable to move away. Dean continues to thrust, the warm sticky blood flowing between them. And as Cas draws his last breath, Dean cums inside him.

Dean pulls away, getting off the bed. He stares down at the bed, holding the knife in his hands. Cas lies on the blood stained sheet staring blankly at the ceiling. His stomach has a huge gash in it.

Dean let's his knife fall to the ground, it lands with an echoing clatter. He doesn't like the way Cas looks, he should not be covered in blood like this.

"Cas," Dean calls.  "Cas, wake up." Cas' body remains unmoving. This is not what Dean wants.

"I'm going to die, it's just a matter of time." Cas' voice seems to come from no where, yet everywhere all at once.

"No," Dean shakes his head.

"Yes, it will happen." Cas' voice continues on. "And you could be the cause you could be my killer."

"No, I won't let it happen, I love you," Dean calls out.

"No, you're a killer, you don't have feelings. And I am just going to be another face in your little book. Then maybe Sam, and his little boyfriend, and maybe even good ol' Bobby. When will it end?" Cas' voice is cruel and as he names each person, their bodies show up on the floor around the bed. Each with a bloody stomach and a slit throat.

"I won't," Dean says in a strained voice.
"You will," Cas' body sits up, eyes still blank. "And it's all gonna be because of your sick and twisted mind." Then, much like before, Cas throat slices open as if by an invisible blade. Blood spills onto his naked lap, and he falls back.

Dean sits up suddenly, sucking in a deep breath. Cas is curled up next to him, but at Dean's suddenness Cas blinks awake.

"What's the matter?" Cas asks in groggy "just woke up" kind of voice.

"Just a bad dream, no big deal." Dean grumbles.

"Wanna talk about it?" Cas' eyes drift back shut.

Dean doesn't need to answer because Cas is fast asleep again.  Dean, his dream stuck on his mind, gets out of bed and goes to the living room.  He lays on the couch, and attempts to fall back to sleep. He just needs to distance himself from Cas at the moment, just for the night.