Chapter Text
He has no memory of who he is. All he knows is that he's woken up in a completely bare and sterile white room. No doors or windows. The lights are nearly unbearably bright, but he can't tell where the light is coming from. There appear to be no bulbs anywhere in the enclosed space, just bare white walls, floor and ceiling. He runs his hands along the walls, looking for seams or panels or anything that might be a latch to let him out. He can't find anything, and to make matters worse: he's stark naked!
After a while, he decides maybe shouting will help. Perhaps someone will hear him and come to his rescue. So he screams and shouts and pounds on the walls, trying to make as much racket as he can. Every noise he makes just bounces back at him, and he can tell that the room is too well insulated to allow any noises to escape. Soon he just gives up and sinks onto the floor in a corner, his knees pulled up to his chest. He tries to take mental stock of himself.
He tries to think of the last thing he can remember before waking up in this room, but he just comes up blank. There's nothing! All he can remember is his name: Dean. But there's no other information associated with it. No last name. No middle name. Nothing. Does he have parents? Siblings? Where are they? Do they know he's missing? Worse yet, did they put him here?! No that can't possibly be it. He doesn't know how he knows, but he knows that, if he has a family, they couldn't possibly have done this to him.
After he accepts that there are no memories to help him, Dean decides to take stock of his body. He looks down at himself: two arms, legs, ten fingers and toes. He doesn't appear to have any tattoos or scars. He doesn't know exactly how old he is, but he can tell that he IS an adult. Come to think of it, what kind of adult has no visible marks anywhere on their body? What kind of a sheltered life has he led?
Upon further inspection, he notices something on his left forearm: it's three vertical dots, one above the other. But the odd thing is they appear to be underneath his skin; and weirder still - they're glowing! Not just glowing, but pulsating! The pale white lights were nearly invisible under his skin with the bright lights in the room nearly making him miss them altogether. He rubs a thumb over the little circles, trying to see if he can feel the subdermal implant(s), but he feels nothing. No bumps, no ridges, no pain or burning; and the skin on his arm is completely smooth. How can that be?
With frustration bubbling beneath his skin and pricking at the back of his neck, he lets out an angry growl and pounds the side of his fist on the wall beside him. That's when a loud hissing sound comes from the other side of the room. The previously smooth and seamless wall suddenly hisses open. He leaps up and quickly makes a bum's rush at the door, hoping to finally get out of this sterilized nightmare.
His hopes are quickly dashed when he collides with a solid chest and falls back on his bare ass. The chest makes a disgruntled 'oof' before its owner is slammed back into the now closed "door", and the wall is once again solid. Dean gets back up, letting loose another frustrated noise, and glares daggers are the new-comer. He's about to let out a string of profanity and accusations (cuz seriously, is this one of his captors?!), but his voice dies in his throat as piercing blue eyes bores into his. He's never seen anything like them.
"Who are you? Why the hell am I here?!" Blue-Eyes (as Dean has decided to dub him) demands after straightening back up. He has the graveliest, sexiest voice he's ever heard, like whiskey and chocolate. It was soothing and grating all at once, and the man himself was a sight to behold, and just as naked as Dean. He was all dark hair and lean muscle going all the way down to- nope, no, he admonishes himself. Keep your eyes above the guy's waist Dean! It wouldn't do to check the guy out and then get a boner when he's got literally nothing to cover it with.
"Um," Dean says smartly, "well, I could ask you the same thing, fella."
Blue-Eyes narrows a glare at Dean before answering. "You're not one of the ones in charge here? You're not responsible for all..." he gestures vaguely around them, "this?"
Dean chuckles, "Dude, does it look like I'm in charge of anything here?" he answers, gesturing to himself.
Blue-Eyes blushes a bit and averts his eyes, although there's nothing to avert them to, except more bare walls. "I guess not," he admits. He seems to deflate a bit, suddenly looking like he doesn't know what else to do. He almost seems a bit defeated.
Dean nervously runs a hand over the back of his head before extending a hand out to Blue-Eyes. "I'm Dean," he says.
Blue-Eyes looks at Dean's hand, then back up to his face, as if he's not sure if he should take it. After just a few moments of deliberation, he accepts to proffered appendage in his own, giving a brief shake. "Castiel," he mumbles.
Well that's a mouthful. "Okay, Cas," Dean says, taking back his hand, "what do you remember before coming in here? Where'd you come from?"
"There was this... corridor," Castiel begins, jerking a thumb behind him. "I woke up in a chair at the end of it. I don't know how I got there. I stood up and looked around, but there was nothing. Just white all around, just like this room." Castiel indicates the room where they are now. Dean doesn't need to look; he's already seen it enough. Castiel continues, "I took a few steps away from the chair, but then it just... disappears! Like- just absorbed into the wall!" Castiel's eyes go wide for a moment as he remembers.
"Wow, seriously? That's some freaky shit there."
"It gets freakier. Every time I took a step, the wall just seemed to - to follow me! I took about a dozen steps before I turned around and tried pushing at the wall, trying to get it to go back, but it wouldn't budge! I could only go in the one direction, so I just went there. I finally saw the end of the hall, but there was just an empty wall, no door no crevices, nothing! I thought I'd end up being squished between the two walls, but when I got to it, it opened up. I was so relieved that I wouldn't be crushed that I just stepped through it, and right into you! And that's all." Castiel finishes, looking at Dean expectantly.
"Yeah, sorry about that." He rubs the back of his head again, then goes into the explanation of his own experiences in this bizarro place. "When I saw that wall open up, I thought I was finally gonna get outta here, and I just got excited. I didn't even see you there until I was on my ass," he finishes his recounting and the two men just stare at each other for a few moments, neither of them sure what to do next.
"So... what now?" Cas asks, unsure.
"I guess we just... wait?"
Cas doesn't seem happy with that answer, but he apparently has no better suggestions so he just finds a corner and plops down. Dean does the same, going straight back to the same corner he was in before, knees pulled up to his chest, hands resting on his knees. He tries his damnedest not to stare at the other man, who doesn't appear to be affected by his nudity at all. One of his legs is stretched out in front of him and his arm is resting on the knee of his other leg that just slightly bent. He looks relaxed- or as relaxed as one can be in a situation like this.
So all they can do is wait.
They wait and wait for what seems like hours, though neither of them really knows. They try to pass the time by simply talking to one another, but neither of them remembers their lives before all of this happened, so their conversation devolves into mere speculation about what their captors could possibly want from them, and why they're here. Neither of them has any plausible explanations (although they do confirm that they each have similar dots on their arms), and eventually they just fall silent.
Dean is just getting ready to doze off from sheer boredom when he is sharply roused by an unpleasant burning sensation on his forearm. A hiss of pain from across the room confirms that Castiel is experiencing the same sensation. Dean looks down at his arm and notices that the three vertical dots of white light beneath his skin have shifted and changed colors. Now they are pulsing red lights in a triangle formation: two on top and one on the bottom. The burning quickly dies down, and he's left with a dull ache that can almost be ignored.
A quick conference with Cas confirms that the same thing has happened to the dots on his arm as well, except his triangle is in the formation of one on top and two on the bottom. Dean briefly wonders if maybe they're supposed to be arrows or something, but what could they possibly be pointing to? He dismisses the thought as quickly as it came and looks at Cas, hoping maybe he has some sort of explanation, but the man is just as confused as he is, so they both let it go. Just chalk another one up for the weird-o-meter. They both sit back down again, with nothing better to do, in their respective corners.
Just a few minutes later, it feels like someone is gradually cranking up the heat. Dean starts to sweat a bit and he's getting uncomfortable in his own skin. A quick glance over at Castiel confirms that he seems just as sweaty. But Dean's eyes go wide when he notices the raging hard-on that Cas is obviously sporting. He knows he should look away, but he's having a hard time getting his eyes to do what he tells them to. That's when Cas glances his way, and suddenly his eyes go just as saucer-wide as Dean's must be.
Dean is finally able to tear his eyes away from the other man and looks down at himself to figure out why Cas looks so shocked. His jaw nearly hits the floor when he notices that he's sporting a boner just as impressive as Cas's. When the hell did that happen?! Another quick glance up confirms that Cas is just now noticing his own rager and seems just as shocked.
"Okay, what the hell!" Dean manages to choke out.
"I.. don't know."
The next few minutes sees them trying as best as they can to hide their raging erections from each other, for nothing else except for the sake of modesty. It's just plain old awkward to have a hard-on in a room with a strange guy, no matter what the situation. They soon give up the task as futile, especially since it just seems to be getting warmer by the minute, almost to unacceptable levels.
Then another burning sensation causes both of them to simultaneously grab their wrists and hiss in pain. This time they are met with an intense wave of arousal that has them both panting and gasping and fighting with themselves not to start jacking off with a stranger in the opposite corner. Before either of them could figure out what to do or how to handle this newest development to their situation, they were given a single, simple command.
The Voice was a calming and seemingly non-threatening, feminine voice. It spoke one word, and one word only:
-MATE-
Dean and Castiel looked at each other, then up towards the ceiling, since that's where the disembodied Voice seemed to be coming from. They didn't see any speakers up there, not even any surveillance equipment, but where they being watched regardless?
Doesn't matter. Someone's communicating with them, so Dean's damn sure gonna communicate back. "HEY!" he shouts in between pants, "HEY, LET US OUT OF HERE!!!" However, they were simply met with the same command.
-MATE-
"Well that's just not gonna happen, sweetheart!" Dean says back to the Voice. No sooner than the words leave his mouth, Dean is moving - but not of his own volition. There are suddenly what looks like /cuffs/ on both his wrists and ankles, glowing and pulsating with the same pale, white glow as the dots when he first discovered them. They are dragging him forwards, to the center of the room.
He struggles and shouts as his dots burn again, sending an even more intense wave of arousal coursing through his veins. The cuffs have forced him onto his back, his arms bracketing his head and his knees nearly touching his chest, while his rock hard cock dribbles precome onto his stomach. Through his haze of arousal, he realizes that he's been forced to present his bare ass to Castiel. He looks up and sees the man gasping and just staring at him, eyes wide, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin in the bright room. He gives a small shake of his head. To his credit, he seems just as horrified of the situation as Dean is.
-MATE-
When Castiel apparently takes too long to comply to the command, another searing hot pain jabs through the red dots on his arm and another wave of arousal overcomes him. But he refuses to move from his spot. So, much like Dean's, pulsating cuffs appear on his limbs as well, and they drag him into position over Dean.
His cock, which is also dribbling precome, is just barely touching Dean's hole. He's leaned over Dean, his hands braced on Dean's wrists, apparently holding him down, but he's not doing it on purpose.
"I'm sorry," Cas manages to get out. "I'm not doing this, I swear."
Dean is unable to respond. He's too shocked by the turn of events to even wrap his head around what is happening. His breathing is coming in sharp gasps, and his heart feels like it's relocated to his throat.
"I'm so sorry," Cas chokes out again. Slowly, Dean's hole, unprepped and lubed only by Cas's leaking precome, is breached by Cas and they both let out a strangled gasp and a moan as Cas's hips start rocking in and out.