Fall Out Boy Preferences

Destiel Smut

A little Destiel smut for y'all from my Ao3 one shot. If you don't like/know Destiel, imagine your OTP.

...

Dean had heard from his brother, who heard from the chef, who overheard King John speaking, a new servant was to be arriving today.

Fortunately, they'd already had enough servants to do the housework, possibly even more enough. That meant that this slave, which was rumoured to be a simple peasant boy, no more than seventeen years of age, would be but a plaything of Dean's wandering hands and big imagination. Dean was ecstatic for his arrival. He sat in the throne room, biting his lip as he watched the castle doors, tapping his foot against the marble flooring.

"Father?" he called out loudly, not really knowing whether he could be heard or not.

No response.

He sighed and slumped against the back of the throne, tapping his foot impatiently. His brother, Sam, had walked in and made his way over to the elder prince, raising an eyebrow.

"Waiting for something...someone rather?" he asked with a smug look on his beautiful face.

"It's nearly sundown and the servant isn't here yet."

"Growing inpatient are you?" Same asked, crossing his arms.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, resting his cheek on his palm, his elbow on the arm of the chair as his emerald eyes remained transfixed, trained on the doors.

"Don't want to look so desperate Dean." Sam chimed in with a chuckle as he turned to leave.

Just then, the doors to the castle opened with a loud creak and the sunlight shone in, illuminating the room. Deans stood, clearing his throat and clasping his hands together behind his back, attempting to look professional and not like he had just been spending the whole day waiting for some simple peasant to show up.

"Prince Samuel and Dean." one guard spoke, puuling along with him by the arm a boy with a small frame and dark hair.

Dean let his eyes wander shamelessly over the boy's frame as he was dragged inside. The guard's grip on the frail arm was tight, even Dean could see that from here. The boy was pushed to the ground at the bottom of the steps leading up to the thrones. Dean looked down at the noisily shackled boy and slowly made his way down.

"Name."

The guard spoke before the boy had the chance.

"He is called Castiel." he said, his hands together behind his back and his head held high in pride.

"Thank you, you may leave." Dean snapped.

A flash of disappointment flashed across the guard's face before he clenched his jaw and turned, abruptly walking through the castle doors. They closed with a loud thud and Dean looked down, slowly stepping down the ten small steps so he stood over the boy, who now sat on his knees. Large, wide, innocent, oceanic blue eyes stared up at him, chappened lips parted as an intake of breath was audible in the quiet room.

"Castiel." Dean marveled, moving one hand down to card through the boy's dark and disheveled brown hair.

Castiel swallowed thickly, his throat rippling with the action. Blue eyes followed green ones until Dean was behind Castiel. The boy looked so innocent, so sweet, so breakable. Dean would have much fun breaking this one, and it would be too easy to. How should he start?