Not On My Watch
Title: Not On My Watch
Characters: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17 for swears and porn like whoa.
Spoilers: For episode 5x03 Free to Be You and Me.
Summary: Missing scene from 5x03. Dean and Castiel get wasted after the brothel doesn't work out the way Dean had planned. Porn happens. Also known as "Self-Indulgent Porn is Self-Indulgent." :D
A/N: So, I'm sure everyone has done their own version of this idea, but I've been reading the glorious Oz-verse by bauble and realized that I hadn't written anything for one of my newest and dearest OTPs (Can you have more than one OTP? Screw it, I want more than one). This was supposed to be just a chat about Castiel's angelly- ways, but like most of the things I write, it spiraled into porn. 5000-ish words of porn to be exact. *wails in frustration*
To any of my lovely Revelations readers- I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU. I suck, I know, Real Life is a bitch, but I promise you I've started writing the rest of that friggen story. I wanna say that it'll be finished in the next couple of months, but you know me and deadlines. Please feel free to smack me around virtually and help get my ass in gear. It will be finished, or I will die trying.
Excerpt:
"I might not be able to get you laid," Dean says, as they step out of the car, "but booze and titty mags are plentiful, cheap, and free of daddy issues."
Cas stares at him. He does that a lot. He diverts his staring to the many bottles of liquor lining the wall as they walk up to the counter.
"So, pick your poison," Dean says
"You would be a better judge than I," Castiel says. "I am not versed in sins of the flesh. Besides, I feel this exercise is unnecessary, even if I am to die tomorrow."
The guy behind the counter gives Cas a slightly freaked out look.
Little chuckles are still bursting out of Dean almost involuntarily as they walk back to the Impala. Castiel has this dazedly happy look on his face; he's nearly grinning, and the closest to a smile Dean's seen him come before this was a brief, half-quirk of the lips. Cas is deadpan to a T, stillness personified, huge stick up his ass, but tonight he seems almost human. And hell, if they're having a good time, why let it stop now?
Cas gives Dean a questioning look when they pull up to the liquor store.
"I might not be able to get you laid," Dean says, as they step out of the car, "but booze and titty mags are plentiful, cheap, and free of daddy issues."
Cas stares at him. He does that a lot. He diverts his staring to the many bottles of liquor lining the wall as they walk up to the counter.
"So, pick your poison," Dean says
"You would be a better judge than I," Castiel says. "I am not versed in sins of the flesh. Besides, I feel this exercise is unnecessary, even if I am to die tomorrow."
The guy behind the counter gives Cas a slightly freaked out look. Dean smiles extra big and slaps down a couple hundred dollar bills to forestall any problems.
"Well then, we'll just get one of everything," Dean says.
______________________________________________
Two hours later Dean is glad he got a wide array of everything the store boasted; especially the booze. It must be angel-mojo or something, but Cas metabolizes alcohol scary-fast. He's gone through a fifth of vodka and three quarters of a fifth of whiskey and seems to only be at the level of tipsy Dean gets to after he polishes off a six-pack. Cas is flipping through a copy of Playboy with an absent-minded look, his eyebrows twisted together in a fair imitation of bemusement. Dean closes his Hustler and takes a long pull on his beer (tenth of the evening) before heading outside the abandoned house they're squatting in to take a leak.
When he comes back in, Cas has finished off the last of the fifth of whiskey and is cracking open the scotch. Dean snatches it from him and throws back a shot before handing it back. Everything's starting to take on the fuzzy warm quality that comes with drinking just enough alcohol. Dean sits in the chair opposite Castiel with a contented sigh.
"That doin' anything for you?" Dean asks with a vague wave of his hand.
"Do you mean the alcohol or the pornography?" Castiel says.
"Either. Or both."
"I believe the alcohol is beginning to have an effect on me," Castiel says. He tilts his head back and takes a few gulping swallows of the scotch. Dean snaps out of staring at the lines of Castiel's throat when Cas finishes and offers him the bottle. When Dean's done taking another drink, his head is starting to spin a little. He mentally cuts himself off. "The pornography..." Cas continues, "I'm not sure."
"What do you mean you're not sure?" Dean says.
"I am not sure what I feel in response to these erotic publications is quite what you would consider amorous."
"You've lost me, Cas. I mean, sure, you're an angel, but you're in a human body. Some things have got to work the same way, right?"
Cas remains silent and takes another few swigs of liquor.
"I have watched the human world for thousands of years," Castiel finally begins. "Intellectually, I understand the machinations of human emotions; love, hate, guilt, anger- how they motivate you, what you do in response to them, how far you will go to attain them. I have seen the effect of them played out millions of times, the intricacies of the details always changing, but the overall stories remaining the same. I understand the reasons why humans torture, why they murder and wage war, I understand the reasons why they fall in love, why they fornicate, why they build families and lives together. But before I took this vessel and entered the physical plane, I never really felt any of those reasons."
"Sex isn't always about emotions, dude. Lots of times it's just sex."
"Even that is... confusing," Castiel says. "Desire, lust- I don't seem to experience it in this body in the uncomplicated way that humans do. I have to allow the basic driving instincts of this vessel to come to the fore, to control my impulses. I have a strong impetus to keep that from happening."
"Why not give into it? Trust me, it's a hell of a lot of fun."
Castiel sighs.
"It makes me vulnerable. It seems like a foreign contagion. It seems too human. I have rebelled against Heaven, but I'm still an angel."
"Yeah, being an angel sounds like a barrel of laughs," Dean says. He's reasonably sure they're venturing into 'chick-flick-chat' territory, but the room is tilting pleasantly, and it's not like they have anything better to do. "You've still got your Grace, or whatever it is, don't you? How's a little bump and grind gonna turn you human?"
"It wouldn't, I suppose. But we were warned against it, just as we were warned against becoming attached to others or allowing our emotions to control us. It is the beginning on the path that leads to Falling."
"If you ask me, that Jedi knight stuff is all full of crap."
"Perhaps. For the past hundred years or so, I have suspected that it is impossible for me to be truly objective without being able to fully understand human emotion. It may be that without feeling, I'm only getting half of the picture. "
Dean groans and stretches back in his chair.
"No use getting so worked up about it, Cas. You over-analyze shit too much. Just go with the flow."
That earns him a little half-quirk of Castiel's lips.
"You make it sound so easy."
"It's part of being human. The emotional bullshit catches up to you occasionally, but for the most part, you try not to think about it. Next time, just go for it. The stress-relief involved will more than make up for any agonizing you're doing over it now."
"I doubt I will be trying that again anytime soon, but thank you for the advice."
"Aw, c'mon, Cas. It wasn't all that bad. I mean, Chastity at least, she must have got you revved up."
"She was very attractive," Cas says. "I admit that I was... enticed... by the lustful intentions of her and the other humans."
"I'm sensing there's a 'but' in there."
"But when she was touching me, I could feel her grief and self-loathing coloring every caress," Castiel says. "She was barely more than a child to me, and she was in pain. I could not take advantage of that."
"You sayin' you're only into cougars?" Dean asks jokingly. Castiel gives him a blank look. "Older women," Dean clarifies.
"I don't know," Castiel says. "It is not so much a matter of age, but a matter of maturity. I can read the motivations of humans too easily. I would rather any human I lie with be motivated by something besides guilt or desperation."
"Yeah, that'd be nice, wouldn't it?" Dean snorts. "Okay, so what's your type?"
"Type?" Castiel asks.
"The type of human. Brunette, blond, assertive, funny, smart- give me some adjectives. What type do you like?"
Castiel tilts his head quizzically.
"I'm not sure I have a 'type.' The only human I've ever felt any sort of personal attachment to is you."
Dean freezes as the epiphany hits him. From anyone else the statement would be a come-on, but Cas is just looking at him, earnest as ever, completely unaware that he's just dropped a bomb on Dean's brain. They both might die tomorrow, Dean genuinely likes Castiel and vice-versa in spite of all the twisted-fucked-up-ed-ness that comes with being caught between the warring armies of the friggen apocalypse. Castiel's pretty easy on the eyes for a guy, and between all the alcohol and the porn Dean's been half-hard in his jeans for the past hour. It takes a fraction of a second for Dean's drink-fuddled train of thought to go, Actually, that's not a terrible idea. It should really be the first indication that this is a terrible idea, but when has Dean ever let that stop him before?
Dean realizes he must have spoken out loud when Castiel asks, "What's not a terrible idea?"
Dean briefly considers explaining the proposition. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but everything he can think of to say sounds kind of wrong or kind of drunk. Besides, Dean Winchester is a man of action. Which is why he stands, steps across the foot of floor separating their chairs, and leans down to brush his lips across Castiel's.
Cas doesn't seem to realize what's going on until it actually happens. Dean figures the obliviousness comes from having absolutely no sense of personal space. Dean pulls back after the brief contact, and Castiel's eyes are blown wide in surprise.
They stare at each other for a moment.
"Dude, did I seriously just render you speechless?" Dean asks, smirking and licking his lips.
Cas takes in a breath and starts to open his mouth, but Dean stops him before any words come out. He easily slides their lips together again, reaching up to run his fingers through Castiel's perma-bed-head. He begins to move his lips, deepening the kiss a little, and cradles the back of Castiel's neck to where it meets the edge of his jaw while running his thumb back and forth slowly just under Castiel's ear. It's a move that almost always works on chicks, and a virginal angel can't be completely different.
A soft rumble comes out of Castiel's chest and then he's pushing up against Dean, raising his hands to dig into Dean's back and pull him down farther. Dean was expecting a little more hesitance, but there's a razor sharp focus to Castiel's motions, a conscious precision when he starts to kiss back. He tilts up into Dean, and Dean feels the brief slickness of Castiel's tongue across his lower lip. Dean can totally get on board with that, so he opens up, and then they're really kissing, deep, drugging pulls of lips against one another, tongues caressing and tangling, lapping softly at the corner of a mouth. Castiel's a surprisingly good kisser, so Dean pulls him up out of the chair by the lapels of his coat, pushes him against the table and wedges himself in between Castiel's thighs without letting go from where he's teasing Cas's lower lip between his teeth.
Cas lets out a quiet groan and takes charge of the kiss again, drags his nails lightly down Dean's scalp to his back before he starts sucking on Dean's tongue, and Jesus, they needed to be naked, like, yesterday. Dean shoves the coat off of Castiel's shoulders so violently he feels fabric tear under his fingers, and now Cas is pulling back from the kiss to gasp in some air, and his hands are starting to push Dean away a bit and- hang on one fucking second. Totally moving in the wrong direction, here.
"Perhaps this is unwise," Castiel says, and if it weren't for the way his voice sounds completely wrecked and ten-times huskier than usual, Dean would almost believe him.
"No way, Cas," Dean says. "That was awesome. Awesome trumps unwise every time."
"Why would you do this?" Cas asks. He sounds honestly bewildered.
"Why not?" Dean counters.
Cas gives him a look. Dean sighs.
"Honestly?" Dean says. "Because you're kinda hot, and I'm kinda drunk. Because we're about to risk our lives tomorrow, because I like you for some stupid reason, because it'll be fun, because I wanna feel good, and I wanna make you feel good. Can't you read that with your freaky angel mind powers, anyway?"
Cas tilts his head, and he does that creepy thing where it's like he's looking straight through Dean. After a brief moment, Castiel's eyes widen fractionally.
"I see," Castiel says.
"Good. So just lay back and let your baser instincts take over for a bit. Trust me."
Castiel's gaze softens, and his head jerks quickly in a tiny nod. Dean kisses the edges of his mouth gently and repeatedly until Cas melts against him again. The build up is slow to get back to where they were before Cas put the breaks on, but Dean finds he doesn't really mind. They trade leisurely kisses, hands beginning to grip and stroke a little more boldly. Cas rubs his hands down to the small of Dean's back, fingers trailing teasingly across the rise of Dean's ass. The noise Dean makes gets an answering gasp from Cas and even better, the mindless and instinctive rise of his hips up against Dean's. Dean feels the hot line of Castiel's hard cock against his, and the slow aching slide of it makes Dean want with the fierce suddenness of the intoxicated.
He pulls his mouth away from Cas only to leave a trail of biting kisses against his neck. Cas twists into it, finally grabbing Dean's ass for real and pressing their hips together with purpose. Dean growls and presses back, pulling Castiel's shirt aside to bite down into the juncture of neck and shoulder. That earns him a jerking shudder, Cas grinding up against him again, gasping in air like he's drowning. Dean starts to suck a mark into the dip of Castiel's clavicle as he unbuttons his shirt, stroking his fingers firmly against the skin he uncovers. When he's done unbuttoning, they work together to wrestle Cas out of his shirt, jacket, and coat in one tangled mess. Cas is surprisingly thin under all the layers, soft skin over lean, corded muscle.
Dean takes a minute to explore, running his palms down Castiel's chest to the waistband of his pants. He dips down to run his tongue over a nipple, and Cas lets out a startled moan, digging his fingers almost painfully into Dean's hair. Dean scrapes with his teeth, gently bites down, and Cas squirms against Dean, nearly breaking Dean's hold on his hips with what seems like a contradictory impulse to pull away and press closer at the same time. Dean moves up to kiss him again. Cas meets him furiously, kissing like he's angry, tongue delving wickedly into Dean's mouth. Dean groans and regretfully pulls back.
"Still with me?" he asks breathlessly, darting back in for another of those kisses.
"Yeah," Cas says before licking a path down the column of Dean's throat, ending in a bite. "This is..." he trails off.
"Fun, huh?" Dean asks.
"Not the first word that comes to mind, but I suppose it could be considered a variation thereof."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Dean says. "Just wait until we get these clothes off-"
There's a sound like fluttering wings, a rush of air, and then Dean finds both he and Cas are abruptly, blissfully naked. A rush of heat spills outward from Dean's groin because holy-fucking-awesome, he's having sex with an angel, which, while technically not the first time this has happened to him, it's the first time he's had the opportunity to have sex with a more or less fully powered up angel. There are kinks, and then there are kinks, and Dean promises himself he will get drunk with Castiel at every opportunity if these are the kinds of rewards to be reaped.
"Huh. Neat trick," Dean says gamely. "Eager much?"
"You have no idea," Cas says before flipping their positions and pinning Dean against the table.
Casitiel's hands are suddenly everywhere, stroking down his chest, fingering nipples, hands gripping Dean's hips, thumbs dipping down to run across the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. All the while he keeps kissing Dean, seeming to go about it scientifically, cataloging every positive reaction and repeating. Dean's always liked kissing, but Cas is raising it to a fucking art form. The thought of Cas being an angel voyeur for hundreds of years, just waiting to try out all the information he'd gleaned by watching thousands of people get hot and heavy- it sets Dean off even more, just in time for Cas to run his fingertips up the shaft of Dean's cock. Dean let's out a strangled noise, and his lungs freeze in his chest as Cas wraps his hand around Dean and starts to jack him off quickly. Pleasure shoots up and down Dean's spine, makes his toes curl up, and seriously, how does Cas know just when to give a twist, just when to rub his thumb sharply against that magic spot under the crown, just when to finger the slit, and fuckfuckfuckfuck-
Dean lets out a shout when Cas brings his other hand up to cup Dean's balls, and that's it, he's coming all over them both while Castiel keeps jacking him through it, until he's rung out and sensitive and has to reach down to pull Cas off him or he just might fucking die. They pant into each others' mouths for a minute, until Dean opens his eyes and realizes Cas is staring at him. If Dean didn't know any better he'd think the bastard looked just this side of smug. Dean kisses the look off his face before dropping to his knees.
Castiel makes a strangled noise when he realizes what Dean's on about, legs going tense when Dean drops a few teasing kisses against the spot where hip meets thigh. He trails the kisses over to where Cas is desperately hard, licking a line up the bottom of Castiel's cock before brushing his lips lightly against the head. Dean looks up to find Cas staring down at him almost reverently. Dean opens his mouth wider and sucks, watching as Castiel's eyes slam shut, something like a whimper clawing it's way out of his throat.
Dean figures the mechanics can't be that much different from chugging a tall pilsner in one go, so he wraps his lips into a tight circle before sliding his mouth slowly down Castiel's length. He reminds himself to be careful of the teeth and builds up a rhythm, sliding all the way down until Cas hits the back of his throat, then back to suck sharply at the crown. Cas loves it, moaning like he's in a cheap skin-flick, which just makes Dean want to ring more sounds out of him. He throws in a little tongue action, and he can feel it when Cas's cock jerks in his mouth, his hips twitching in held-back thrusts. Suddenly, Dean wants Cas to lose it completely, he wants it so badly he can feel it tightening in his own gut, and Dean tries to go faster, feeling a little desperate himself. He reaches down to fist his re-awakening cock, coaxing it back to hardness as Castiel gives a full-body shudder.
Dean presses a finger into his mouth alongside Castiel's cock. Cas lets out a choked, "Dean-" when Dean trails his finger back, pressing into the patch of skin behind Castiel's balls before rubbing the tip in tiny circles into the small opening farther back. Dean teases there, gyrating his finger quickly as he goes all the way down again, sucking as hard as he can. Cas practically screams, a broken warning of, "Dean, I...!" giving Dean just enough time to pull back and watch Castiel jerk through his orgasm, face screwed up like he's in pain, fingers pressing deep into Dean's shoulders. Dean nudges his chest up against Castiel's thighs, ignoring the come that gets smeared all over him, and wraps his arms around the angel's legs to steady him as his knees nearly give out.
Dean stands up when Cas seems like his legs will hold him. Castiel immediately moves to lean against the table, and Dean takes a moment to do a little mental victory dance because he's apparently that good. Cas takes another minute or so before his breathing calms down a bit, and then he turns a half-stunned look on Dean.
"And the survey says?" Dean asks cockily.
Castiel raises an eyebrow, obviously missing the reference and ignoring the question. His gaze darts down briefly.
"You're hard again," he observes.
Dean knows he's in trouble when just the sound of Castiel's rumbling, gravelly voice saying something slightly dirty sends a frisson of heat shooting to his groin.
"Yeah. Uh, no worries, though, I can just-"
"Anything," Castiel cuts him off. "Whatever you want. Please."
Dean takes a moment to mentally thank the drunk-sex gods before he's pinning Castiel up against the wall, kissing him within an inch of his life and rutting his cock against Castiel's thigh. Cas wraps a leg around Dean's hip to pull him closer, which is fucking hot, and then all Dean can think is that he wants to screw his dick straight into Castiel's tight little hole. He shudders just at the thought of it, reaching down to grope Castiel's ass, running his fingers down between his cheeks to brush against the sensitive opening.
"This'll work better," Dean gasps between kisses, "on the floor. On your back."
Cas manhandles him backwards (and Dean forgot how sexy it is to fuck someone strong enough to do that), and then stretches out on top of their discarded clothing. Dean has a split second to think, So that's where the clothes went, before he's looking at the naked smorgasbord spread out wantonly for him and wondering where to start first.
He kneels down near Castiel's feet, pushing the angel's legs up so his knees are bent, and he's totally exposed. He strokes his fingers up from Castiel's knees to his hips. Cas sighs and relaxes into the touch.
"I'm gonna get you ready, okay?" Dean says, voice deep and hushed. "Let me know if anything hurts or you want to stop."
Cas nods dreamily, and Dean tries not to think about how that level of absolute trust scares him a little. Dean sucks on a couple of his fingers until they're wet, moving to press one against Castiel's hole. Cas pushes back against the pressure, and the tip of Dean's finger slides in. Dean works on him slowly, gaining little hitches of breath and twists of Castiel's hips until Dean is two fingers in, up to the second knuckle. Castiel's eyes are closed, hands fisted into the scattered clothing he's lying on, and Dean realizes they're not gonna get much farther without something to help ease the way.
He's just about to present the problem to Castiel when he notices the jug of oil Cas brought in earlier. It's a big jug, they won't use very much, and Dean is very reluctant to stop pulling those little hitching sighs from Cas, even for a second. It makes perfectly practical (inebriated) sense, it's even within reach, so Dean snags the handle, twists the hand that's working on Castiel palm up without taking his fingers out of him, and carefully pours out a small portion into his palm. It's already warm on Dean's skin, so Dean pulls his fingers out of Cas briefly, slicks them up, and presses them all the way back in to barely any resistance.
Castiel jackknifes up from his relaxed state, letting out a stream of expletives that Dean didn't even know were actual words.
"Whoa, whoa!" Dean says. He pulls his fingers out, but Cas keeps shaking like he's about to fall apart, gasping out groans and curses. "You okay? Did I hurt you?"
"Fuck, Dean-" Castiel says. He starts gyrating his hips into the empty air unconsciously, searching for contact. "What...?"
Cas looks down and sees the jug.
"You- you're using holy oil to- to..." Cas trails off into a nearly hysterical moan when Dean presses his fingers lightly against his opening again.
"Is that some kind of angel no-no?" Dean asks. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare," Castiel gasps out. "It's exquisite."
Dean bites back on his own desperation. Castiel's cock is hard again, trailing precome against his stomach. Dean slips his fingers back inside, and Cas clenches down hard before releasing. Dean starts scissoring his fingers. He bumps against Cas's sweet spot and Cas grunts, pushing back against the pressure. Dean starts to finger fuck him hard and fast. Cas reaches down to cup his dick while Dean opens him up, letting out little gasping moans whenever Dean rubs against his prostate. Dean grabs his own dick and squeezes tightly to relieve some of the pressure. He presses in and crooks his fingers, rotating sharply against Cas's sweet spot over and over again until Cas is heaving in violent breaths.
"More," Cas pleads, which makes Dean nearly lose it himself. "Dean, I want-"
"Yeah," Dean says, pulling his fingers out. Cas groans at the loss. "Yeah, I've got you."
Dean pours out some more of the oil and slicks up his cock. He lifts Castiel's knees up, and Castiel complies immediately, folding his legs up in a show of flexibility Dean wouldn't have figured he had in him. Then Dean's pressing into him, sliding in up to his balls in hot, tight, slick; one deep thrust that leaves them both shaking.
"Move, Dean," Castiel says, digging his fingers into Dean's back and pushing his ass down onto Dean's cock, trying to get him deeper.
"Okay, I...Okay," Dean stutters out, pulling back slightly before snapping his hips back in.
Dean builds up the speed, screwing his dick in and out of Castiel. Castiel only demands it harder, and Dean can only comply, feeling his cock growing thicker, twitching desperately with each fuck in and out. Neither one of them is going to last, so Dean snaps his hips faster, changes the angle until he can tell he's hitting it perfectly, because Castiel arches his back abruptly and slams himself back onto Dean with a strangled, "Yes!" Dean wraps his fingers around Castiel's cock and starts jerking it in time with his thrusts.
"C'mon, Cas," Dean moans. "God, you're so close, wanna feel you, c'mon-" And with one more stroke, Cas starts coming, ass clenching around Dean's dick as his release spills over Dean's hand. Dean feels his balls tightening up, and then it all comes in a rush, practically dragged out of him. He keeps fucking Cas through it, groaning and gasping and sweating, acute pleasure exploding out from his cock and crashing through his whole body.
Finally, Dean collapses on top of Cas. Their foreheads press together, and Dean's eyes refuse to open as he attempts to get some air back into his lungs. He slowly comes back to himself and opens his eyes to find Cas has his hands pressed lazily, open-palmed to Dean's biceps. It's probably Dean's alcohol/sex exhausted body running haywire, but it feels like Castiel's right palm is practically burning into Dean's skin, and it's suddenly just a little too close.
He rolls off of Cas to lie next to him, pressed shoulder to shoulder. Their breathing settles down completely after a few minutes, and Dean chuckles.
"Man," Dean says. "That was awesome. I told you sex was great."
"Yes, it does seem to have its merits," Castiel says dryly in that tone that Dean can never really tell is joking or not.
Dean rolls over onto his side and grins.
"Just admit I blew your mind, Cas. I promise I won't tell anyone."
Castiel's eyes go hazy and distant.
"I admit it was rather... incredible," Castiel says. "I guess perhaps I can sympathize with why humans feel the need to fight so violently over mates and fornicate every chance they get."
Dean laughs.
"You're a real romantic, Cas."
_________________________
Dean doesn't remember falling asleep, but the dawn light starts pounding into the room, exacerbating a pretty intense headache, and his eyes crack open. He grunts as he sits up and stretches, scratching at an itchy, crusty patch on his stomach-
The night before comes back to him so fast his head is spinning. In pornographic, technicolor detail. He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. When he opens his eyes again, he nearly jumps at the site of Cas suddenly standing in the doorway, dressed in his holy tax accountant getup. He looks exactly the same as he always does, maybe even cleaner, and Dean has a crazy moment where he wonders if he dreamed it all. Until Castiel opens his mouth.
"I am unsure of the proper protocol required in this situation."
Dean remains silent and stands up, his back popping angrily. Sleeping on the floor was a stupid idea.
"Yeah, uh," Dean begins awkwardly. "Tell you the truth, I kinda hate this part too. Wanna skip it?"
"We act as if nothing happened?" Castiel asks.
"Well, unless you want to go all 13-year-old girl and have a talk about our feelings..."
"No," Castiel says abruptly, voice slightly panicked. "No, I believe that is unnecessary."
"Okay, then. I guess we just..." he trails off, at a loss for words, and waves a hand in a gesture he hopes properly expresses what he means.
Dean pulls his pants on and looks up to find Cas staring at him. Dean sighs.
"Look, Cas," Dean says. "I don't... I don't regret it. But it's probably best if we kept the complications to a minimum. You know?"
"I do," Castiel says, and for the first time Dean notices Cas is a little pinched around the eyes. Dean's glad he's not the only one who has some new shit to mull over. "It would be the wisest course of action."
"Yeah," Dean says. He absolutely refuses to acknowledge the tiny corner of himself that is strangely disappointed. He pulls on his t-shirt and starts to wonder how the hell he's going to get a shower.
"...But perhaps," Castiel begins haltingly when Dean starts rooting through his jacket to find his keys. "...Perhaps one day, we could..." he raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck and doesn't make eye contact. "...again," he finishes lamely.
Dean ignores the surge of excitement that rushes through him at the prospect.
"Yeah," Dean says. "Maybe."
He slings on his jacket and reaches down to grab the jug of oil from the floor. He tosses it to Castiel, who looks annoyed, then surprised, and finally, shockingly, a little pink in the cheeks. Cas clears his throat.
"Anyways," Dean says with a grin. "Let's go kick some archangel ass."
As Dean walks past Cas, he claps him on the shoulder. Castiel follows after, a small smile teasing at the edges of his mouth.
Characters: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17 for swears and porn like whoa.
Spoilers: For episode 5x03 Free to Be You and Me.
Summary: Missing scene from 5x03. Dean and Castiel get wasted after the brothel doesn't work out the way Dean had planned. Porn happens. Also known as "Self-Indulgent Porn is Self-Indulgent." :D
A/N: So, I'm sure everyone has done their own version of this idea, but I've been reading the glorious Oz-verse by bauble and realized that I hadn't written anything for one of my newest and dearest OTPs (Can you have more than one OTP? Screw it, I want more than one). This was supposed to be just a chat about Castiel's angelly- ways, but like most of the things I write, it spiraled into porn. 5000-ish words of porn to be exact. *wails in frustration*
To any of my lovely Revelations readers- I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU. I suck, I know, Real Life is a bitch, but I promise you I've started writing the rest of that friggen story. I wanna say that it'll be finished in the next couple of months, but you know me and deadlines. Please feel free to smack me around virtually and help get my ass in gear. It will be finished, or I will die trying.
Excerpt:
"I might not be able to get you laid," Dean says, as they step out of the car, "but booze and titty mags are plentiful, cheap, and free of daddy issues."
Cas stares at him. He does that a lot. He diverts his staring to the many bottles of liquor lining the wall as they walk up to the counter.
"So, pick your poison," Dean says
"You would be a better judge than I," Castiel says. "I am not versed in sins of the flesh. Besides, I feel this exercise is unnecessary, even if I am to die tomorrow."
The guy behind the counter gives Cas a slightly freaked out look.
Little chuckles are still bursting out of Dean almost involuntarily as they walk back to the Impala. Castiel has this dazedly happy look on his face; he's nearly grinning, and the closest to a smile Dean's seen him come before this was a brief, half-quirk of the lips. Cas is deadpan to a T, stillness personified, huge stick up his ass, but tonight he seems almost human. And hell, if they're having a good time, why let it stop now?
Cas gives Dean a questioning look when they pull up to the liquor store.
"I might not be able to get you laid," Dean says, as they step out of the car, "but booze and titty mags are plentiful, cheap, and free of daddy issues."
Cas stares at him. He does that a lot. He diverts his staring to the many bottles of liquor lining the wall as they walk up to the counter.
"So, pick your poison," Dean says
"You would be a better judge than I," Castiel says. "I am not versed in sins of the flesh. Besides, I feel this exercise is unnecessary, even if I am to die tomorrow."
The guy behind the counter gives Cas a slightly freaked out look. Dean smiles extra big and slaps down a couple hundred dollar bills to forestall any problems.
"Well then, we'll just get one of everything," Dean says.
______________________________________________
Two hours later Dean is glad he got a wide array of everything the store boasted; especially the booze. It must be angel-mojo or something, but Cas metabolizes alcohol scary-fast. He's gone through a fifth of vodka and three quarters of a fifth of whiskey and seems to only be at the level of tipsy Dean gets to after he polishes off a six-pack. Cas is flipping through a copy of Playboy with an absent-minded look, his eyebrows twisted together in a fair imitation of bemusement. Dean closes his Hustler and takes a long pull on his beer (tenth of the evening) before heading outside the abandoned house they're squatting in to take a leak.
When he comes back in, Cas has finished off the last of the fifth of whiskey and is cracking open the scotch. Dean snatches it from him and throws back a shot before handing it back. Everything's starting to take on the fuzzy warm quality that comes with drinking just enough alcohol. Dean sits in the chair opposite Castiel with a contented sigh.
"That doin' anything for you?" Dean asks with a vague wave of his hand.
"Do you mean the alcohol or the pornography?" Castiel says.
"Either. Or both."
"I believe the alcohol is beginning to have an effect on me," Castiel says. He tilts his head back and takes a few gulping swallows of the scotch. Dean snaps out of staring at the lines of Castiel's throat when Cas finishes and offers him the bottle. When Dean's done taking another drink, his head is starting to spin a little. He mentally cuts himself off. "The pornography..." Cas continues, "I'm not sure."
"What do you mean you're not sure?" Dean says.
"I am not sure what I feel in response to these erotic publications is quite what you would consider amorous."
"You've lost me, Cas. I mean, sure, you're an angel, but you're in a human body. Some things have got to work the same way, right?"
Cas remains silent and takes another few swigs of liquor.
"I have watched the human world for thousands of years," Castiel finally begins. "Intellectually, I understand the machinations of human emotions; love, hate, guilt, anger- how they motivate you, what you do in response to them, how far you will go to attain them. I have seen the effect of them played out millions of times, the intricacies of the details always changing, but the overall stories remaining the same. I understand the reasons why humans torture, why they murder and wage war, I understand the reasons why they fall in love, why they fornicate, why they build families and lives together. But before I took this vessel and entered the physical plane, I never really felt any of those reasons."
"Sex isn't always about emotions, dude. Lots of times it's just sex."
"Even that is... confusing," Castiel says. "Desire, lust- I don't seem to experience it in this body in the uncomplicated way that humans do. I have to allow the basic driving instincts of this vessel to come to the fore, to control my impulses. I have a strong impetus to keep that from happening."
"Why not give into it? Trust me, it's a hell of a lot of fun."
Castiel sighs.
"It makes me vulnerable. It seems like a foreign contagion. It seems too human. I have rebelled against Heaven, but I'm still an angel."
"Yeah, being an angel sounds like a barrel of laughs," Dean says. He's reasonably sure they're venturing into 'chick-flick-chat' territory, but the room is tilting pleasantly, and it's not like they have anything better to do. "You've still got your Grace, or whatever it is, don't you? How's a little bump and grind gonna turn you human?"
"It wouldn't, I suppose. But we were warned against it, just as we were warned against becoming attached to others or allowing our emotions to control us. It is the beginning on the path that leads to Falling."
"If you ask me, that Jedi knight stuff is all full of crap."
"Perhaps. For the past hundred years or so, I have suspected that it is impossible for me to be truly objective without being able to fully understand human emotion. It may be that without feeling, I'm only getting half of the picture. "
Dean groans and stretches back in his chair.
"No use getting so worked up about it, Cas. You over-analyze shit too much. Just go with the flow."
That earns him a little half-quirk of Castiel's lips.
"You make it sound so easy."
"It's part of being human. The emotional bullshit catches up to you occasionally, but for the most part, you try not to think about it. Next time, just go for it. The stress-relief involved will more than make up for any agonizing you're doing over it now."
"I doubt I will be trying that again anytime soon, but thank you for the advice."
"Aw, c'mon, Cas. It wasn't all that bad. I mean, Chastity at least, she must have got you revved up."
"She was very attractive," Cas says. "I admit that I was... enticed... by the lustful intentions of her and the other humans."
"I'm sensing there's a 'but' in there."
"But when she was touching me, I could feel her grief and self-loathing coloring every caress," Castiel says. "She was barely more than a child to me, and she was in pain. I could not take advantage of that."
"You sayin' you're only into cougars?" Dean asks jokingly. Castiel gives him a blank look. "Older women," Dean clarifies.
"I don't know," Castiel says. "It is not so much a matter of age, but a matter of maturity. I can read the motivations of humans too easily. I would rather any human I lie with be motivated by something besides guilt or desperation."
"Yeah, that'd be nice, wouldn't it?" Dean snorts. "Okay, so what's your type?"
"Type?" Castiel asks.
"The type of human. Brunette, blond, assertive, funny, smart- give me some adjectives. What type do you like?"
Castiel tilts his head quizzically.
"I'm not sure I have a 'type.' The only human I've ever felt any sort of personal attachment to is you."
Dean freezes as the epiphany hits him. From anyone else the statement would be a come-on, but Cas is just looking at him, earnest as ever, completely unaware that he's just dropped a bomb on Dean's brain. They both might die tomorrow, Dean genuinely likes Castiel and vice-versa in spite of all the twisted-fucked-up-ed-ness that comes with being caught between the warring armies of the friggen apocalypse. Castiel's pretty easy on the eyes for a guy, and between all the alcohol and the porn Dean's been half-hard in his jeans for the past hour. It takes a fraction of a second for Dean's drink-fuddled train of thought to go, Actually, that's not a terrible idea. It should really be the first indication that this is a terrible idea, but when has Dean ever let that stop him before?
Dean realizes he must have spoken out loud when Castiel asks, "What's not a terrible idea?"
Dean briefly considers explaining the proposition. He opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but everything he can think of to say sounds kind of wrong or kind of drunk. Besides, Dean Winchester is a man of action. Which is why he stands, steps across the foot of floor separating their chairs, and leans down to brush his lips across Castiel's.
Cas doesn't seem to realize what's going on until it actually happens. Dean figures the obliviousness comes from having absolutely no sense of personal space. Dean pulls back after the brief contact, and Castiel's eyes are blown wide in surprise.
They stare at each other for a moment.
"Dude, did I seriously just render you speechless?" Dean asks, smirking and licking his lips.
Cas takes in a breath and starts to open his mouth, but Dean stops him before any words come out. He easily slides their lips together again, reaching up to run his fingers through Castiel's perma-bed-head. He begins to move his lips, deepening the kiss a little, and cradles the back of Castiel's neck to where it meets the edge of his jaw while running his thumb back and forth slowly just under Castiel's ear. It's a move that almost always works on chicks, and a virginal angel can't be completely different.
A soft rumble comes out of Castiel's chest and then he's pushing up against Dean, raising his hands to dig into Dean's back and pull him down farther. Dean was expecting a little more hesitance, but there's a razor sharp focus to Castiel's motions, a conscious precision when he starts to kiss back. He tilts up into Dean, and Dean feels the brief slickness of Castiel's tongue across his lower lip. Dean can totally get on board with that, so he opens up, and then they're really kissing, deep, drugging pulls of lips against one another, tongues caressing and tangling, lapping softly at the corner of a mouth. Castiel's a surprisingly good kisser, so Dean pulls him up out of the chair by the lapels of his coat, pushes him against the table and wedges himself in between Castiel's thighs without letting go from where he's teasing Cas's lower lip between his teeth.
Cas lets out a quiet groan and takes charge of the kiss again, drags his nails lightly down Dean's scalp to his back before he starts sucking on Dean's tongue, and Jesus, they needed to be naked, like, yesterday. Dean shoves the coat off of Castiel's shoulders so violently he feels fabric tear under his fingers, and now Cas is pulling back from the kiss to gasp in some air, and his hands are starting to push Dean away a bit and- hang on one fucking second. Totally moving in the wrong direction, here.
"Perhaps this is unwise," Castiel says, and if it weren't for the way his voice sounds completely wrecked and ten-times huskier than usual, Dean would almost believe him.
"No way, Cas," Dean says. "That was awesome. Awesome trumps unwise every time."
"Why would you do this?" Cas asks. He sounds honestly bewildered.
"Why not?" Dean counters.
Cas gives him a look. Dean sighs.
"Honestly?" Dean says. "Because you're kinda hot, and I'm kinda drunk. Because we're about to risk our lives tomorrow, because I like you for some stupid reason, because it'll be fun, because I wanna feel good, and I wanna make you feel good. Can't you read that with your freaky angel mind powers, anyway?"
Cas tilts his head, and he does that creepy thing where it's like he's looking straight through Dean. After a brief moment, Castiel's eyes widen fractionally.
"I see," Castiel says.
"Good. So just lay back and let your baser instincts take over for a bit. Trust me."
Castiel's gaze softens, and his head jerks quickly in a tiny nod. Dean kisses the edges of his mouth gently and repeatedly until Cas melts against him again. The build up is slow to get back to where they were before Cas put the breaks on, but Dean finds he doesn't really mind. They trade leisurely kisses, hands beginning to grip and stroke a little more boldly. Cas rubs his hands down to the small of Dean's back, fingers trailing teasingly across the rise of Dean's ass. The noise Dean makes gets an answering gasp from Cas and even better, the mindless and instinctive rise of his hips up against Dean's. Dean feels the hot line of Castiel's hard cock against his, and the slow aching slide of it makes Dean want with the fierce suddenness of the intoxicated.
He pulls his mouth away from Cas only to leave a trail of biting kisses against his neck. Cas twists into it, finally grabbing Dean's ass for real and pressing their hips together with purpose. Dean growls and presses back, pulling Castiel's shirt aside to bite down into the juncture of neck and shoulder. That earns him a jerking shudder, Cas grinding up against him again, gasping in air like he's drowning. Dean starts to suck a mark into the dip of Castiel's clavicle as he unbuttons his shirt, stroking his fingers firmly against the skin he uncovers. When he's done unbuttoning, they work together to wrestle Cas out of his shirt, jacket, and coat in one tangled mess. Cas is surprisingly thin under all the layers, soft skin over lean, corded muscle.
Dean takes a minute to explore, running his palms down Castiel's chest to the waistband of his pants. He dips down to run his tongue over a nipple, and Cas lets out a startled moan, digging his fingers almost painfully into Dean's hair. Dean scrapes with his teeth, gently bites down, and Cas squirms against Dean, nearly breaking Dean's hold on his hips with what seems like a contradictory impulse to pull away and press closer at the same time. Dean moves up to kiss him again. Cas meets him furiously, kissing like he's angry, tongue delving wickedly into Dean's mouth. Dean groans and regretfully pulls back.
"Still with me?" he asks breathlessly, darting back in for another of those kisses.
"Yeah," Cas says before licking a path down the column of Dean's throat, ending in a bite. "This is..." he trails off.
"Fun, huh?" Dean asks.
"Not the first word that comes to mind, but I suppose it could be considered a variation thereof."
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Dean says. "Just wait until we get these clothes off-"
There's a sound like fluttering wings, a rush of air, and then Dean finds both he and Cas are abruptly, blissfully naked. A rush of heat spills outward from Dean's groin because holy-fucking-awesome, he's having sex with an angel, which, while technically not the first time this has happened to him, it's the first time he's had the opportunity to have sex with a more or less fully powered up angel. There are kinks, and then there are kinks, and Dean promises himself he will get drunk with Castiel at every opportunity if these are the kinds of rewards to be reaped.
"Huh. Neat trick," Dean says gamely. "Eager much?"
"You have no idea," Cas says before flipping their positions and pinning Dean against the table.
Casitiel's hands are suddenly everywhere, stroking down his chest, fingering nipples, hands gripping Dean's hips, thumbs dipping down to run across the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. All the while he keeps kissing Dean, seeming to go about it scientifically, cataloging every positive reaction and repeating. Dean's always liked kissing, but Cas is raising it to a fucking art form. The thought of Cas being an angel voyeur for hundreds of years, just waiting to try out all the information he'd gleaned by watching thousands of people get hot and heavy- it sets Dean off even more, just in time for Cas to run his fingertips up the shaft of Dean's cock. Dean let's out a strangled noise, and his lungs freeze in his chest as Cas wraps his hand around Dean and starts to jack him off quickly. Pleasure shoots up and down Dean's spine, makes his toes curl up, and seriously, how does Cas know just when to give a twist, just when to rub his thumb sharply against that magic spot under the crown, just when to finger the slit, and fuckfuckfuckfuck-
Dean lets out a shout when Cas brings his other hand up to cup Dean's balls, and that's it, he's coming all over them both while Castiel keeps jacking him through it, until he's rung out and sensitive and has to reach down to pull Cas off him or he just might fucking die. They pant into each others' mouths for a minute, until Dean opens his eyes and realizes Cas is staring at him. If Dean didn't know any better he'd think the bastard looked just this side of smug. Dean kisses the look off his face before dropping to his knees.
Castiel makes a strangled noise when he realizes what Dean's on about, legs going tense when Dean drops a few teasing kisses against the spot where hip meets thigh. He trails the kisses over to where Cas is desperately hard, licking a line up the bottom of Castiel's cock before brushing his lips lightly against the head. Dean looks up to find Cas staring down at him almost reverently. Dean opens his mouth wider and sucks, watching as Castiel's eyes slam shut, something like a whimper clawing it's way out of his throat.
Dean figures the mechanics can't be that much different from chugging a tall pilsner in one go, so he wraps his lips into a tight circle before sliding his mouth slowly down Castiel's length. He reminds himself to be careful of the teeth and builds up a rhythm, sliding all the way down until Cas hits the back of his throat, then back to suck sharply at the crown. Cas loves it, moaning like he's in a cheap skin-flick, which just makes Dean want to ring more sounds out of him. He throws in a little tongue action, and he can feel it when Cas's cock jerks in his mouth, his hips twitching in held-back thrusts. Suddenly, Dean wants Cas to lose it completely, he wants it so badly he can feel it tightening in his own gut, and Dean tries to go faster, feeling a little desperate himself. He reaches down to fist his re-awakening cock, coaxing it back to hardness as Castiel gives a full-body shudder.
Dean presses a finger into his mouth alongside Castiel's cock. Cas lets out a choked, "Dean-" when Dean trails his finger back, pressing into the patch of skin behind Castiel's balls before rubbing the tip in tiny circles into the small opening farther back. Dean teases there, gyrating his finger quickly as he goes all the way down again, sucking as hard as he can. Cas practically screams, a broken warning of, "Dean, I...!" giving Dean just enough time to pull back and watch Castiel jerk through his orgasm, face screwed up like he's in pain, fingers pressing deep into Dean's shoulders. Dean nudges his chest up against Castiel's thighs, ignoring the come that gets smeared all over him, and wraps his arms around the angel's legs to steady him as his knees nearly give out.
Dean stands up when Cas seems like his legs will hold him. Castiel immediately moves to lean against the table, and Dean takes a moment to do a little mental victory dance because he's apparently that good. Cas takes another minute or so before his breathing calms down a bit, and then he turns a half-stunned look on Dean.
"And the survey says?" Dean asks cockily.
Castiel raises an eyebrow, obviously missing the reference and ignoring the question. His gaze darts down briefly.
"You're hard again," he observes.
Dean knows he's in trouble when just the sound of Castiel's rumbling, gravelly voice saying something slightly dirty sends a frisson of heat shooting to his groin.
"Yeah. Uh, no worries, though, I can just-"
"Anything," Castiel cuts him off. "Whatever you want. Please."
Dean takes a moment to mentally thank the drunk-sex gods before he's pinning Castiel up against the wall, kissing him within an inch of his life and rutting his cock against Castiel's thigh. Cas wraps a leg around Dean's hip to pull him closer, which is fucking hot, and then all Dean can think is that he wants to screw his dick straight into Castiel's tight little hole. He shudders just at the thought of it, reaching down to grope Castiel's ass, running his fingers down between his cheeks to brush against the sensitive opening.
"This'll work better," Dean gasps between kisses, "on the floor. On your back."
Cas manhandles him backwards (and Dean forgot how sexy it is to fuck someone strong enough to do that), and then stretches out on top of their discarded clothing. Dean has a split second to think, So that's where the clothes went, before he's looking at the naked smorgasbord spread out wantonly for him and wondering where to start first.
He kneels down near Castiel's feet, pushing the angel's legs up so his knees are bent, and he's totally exposed. He strokes his fingers up from Castiel's knees to his hips. Cas sighs and relaxes into the touch.
"I'm gonna get you ready, okay?" Dean says, voice deep and hushed. "Let me know if anything hurts or you want to stop."
Cas nods dreamily, and Dean tries not to think about how that level of absolute trust scares him a little. Dean sucks on a couple of his fingers until they're wet, moving to press one against Castiel's hole. Cas pushes back against the pressure, and the tip of Dean's finger slides in. Dean works on him slowly, gaining little hitches of breath and twists of Castiel's hips until Dean is two fingers in, up to the second knuckle. Castiel's eyes are closed, hands fisted into the scattered clothing he's lying on, and Dean realizes they're not gonna get much farther without something to help ease the way.
He's just about to present the problem to Castiel when he notices the jug of oil Cas brought in earlier. It's a big jug, they won't use very much, and Dean is very reluctant to stop pulling those little hitching sighs from Cas, even for a second. It makes perfectly practical (inebriated) sense, it's even within reach, so Dean snags the handle, twists the hand that's working on Castiel palm up without taking his fingers out of him, and carefully pours out a small portion into his palm. It's already warm on Dean's skin, so Dean pulls his fingers out of Cas briefly, slicks them up, and presses them all the way back in to barely any resistance.
Castiel jackknifes up from his relaxed state, letting out a stream of expletives that Dean didn't even know were actual words.
"Whoa, whoa!" Dean says. He pulls his fingers out, but Cas keeps shaking like he's about to fall apart, gasping out groans and curses. "You okay? Did I hurt you?"
"Fuck, Dean-" Castiel says. He starts gyrating his hips into the empty air unconsciously, searching for contact. "What...?"
Cas looks down and sees the jug.
"You- you're using holy oil to- to..." Cas trails off into a nearly hysterical moan when Dean presses his fingers lightly against his opening again.
"Is that some kind of angel no-no?" Dean asks. "Do you want me to stop?"
"Don't you dare," Castiel gasps out. "It's exquisite."
Dean bites back on his own desperation. Castiel's cock is hard again, trailing precome against his stomach. Dean slips his fingers back inside, and Cas clenches down hard before releasing. Dean starts scissoring his fingers. He bumps against Cas's sweet spot and Cas grunts, pushing back against the pressure. Dean starts to finger fuck him hard and fast. Cas reaches down to cup his dick while Dean opens him up, letting out little gasping moans whenever Dean rubs against his prostate. Dean grabs his own dick and squeezes tightly to relieve some of the pressure. He presses in and crooks his fingers, rotating sharply against Cas's sweet spot over and over again until Cas is heaving in violent breaths.
"More," Cas pleads, which makes Dean nearly lose it himself. "Dean, I want-"
"Yeah," Dean says, pulling his fingers out. Cas groans at the loss. "Yeah, I've got you."
Dean pours out some more of the oil and slicks up his cock. He lifts Castiel's knees up, and Castiel complies immediately, folding his legs up in a show of flexibility Dean wouldn't have figured he had in him. Then Dean's pressing into him, sliding in up to his balls in hot, tight, slick; one deep thrust that leaves them both shaking.
"Move, Dean," Castiel says, digging his fingers into Dean's back and pushing his ass down onto Dean's cock, trying to get him deeper.
"Okay, I...Okay," Dean stutters out, pulling back slightly before snapping his hips back in.
Dean builds up the speed, screwing his dick in and out of Castiel. Castiel only demands it harder, and Dean can only comply, feeling his cock growing thicker, twitching desperately with each fuck in and out. Neither one of them is going to last, so Dean snaps his hips faster, changes the angle until he can tell he's hitting it perfectly, because Castiel arches his back abruptly and slams himself back onto Dean with a strangled, "Yes!" Dean wraps his fingers around Castiel's cock and starts jerking it in time with his thrusts.
"C'mon, Cas," Dean moans. "God, you're so close, wanna feel you, c'mon-" And with one more stroke, Cas starts coming, ass clenching around Dean's dick as his release spills over Dean's hand. Dean feels his balls tightening up, and then it all comes in a rush, practically dragged out of him. He keeps fucking Cas through it, groaning and gasping and sweating, acute pleasure exploding out from his cock and crashing through his whole body.
Finally, Dean collapses on top of Cas. Their foreheads press together, and Dean's eyes refuse to open as he attempts to get some air back into his lungs. He slowly comes back to himself and opens his eyes to find Cas has his hands pressed lazily, open-palmed to Dean's biceps. It's probably Dean's alcohol/sex exhausted body running haywire, but it feels like Castiel's right palm is practically burning into Dean's skin, and it's suddenly just a little too close.
He rolls off of Cas to lie next to him, pressed shoulder to shoulder. Their breathing settles down completely after a few minutes, and Dean chuckles.
"Man," Dean says. "That was awesome. I told you sex was great."
"Yes, it does seem to have its merits," Castiel says dryly in that tone that Dean can never really tell is joking or not.
Dean rolls over onto his side and grins.
"Just admit I blew your mind, Cas. I promise I won't tell anyone."
Castiel's eyes go hazy and distant.
"I admit it was rather... incredible," Castiel says. "I guess perhaps I can sympathize with why humans feel the need to fight so violently over mates and fornicate every chance they get."
Dean laughs.
"You're a real romantic, Cas."
_________________________
Dean doesn't remember falling asleep, but the dawn light starts pounding into the room, exacerbating a pretty intense headache, and his eyes crack open. He grunts as he sits up and stretches, scratching at an itchy, crusty patch on his stomach-
The night before comes back to him so fast his head is spinning. In pornographic, technicolor detail. He groans and scrubs a hand over his face. When he opens his eyes again, he nearly jumps at the site of Cas suddenly standing in the doorway, dressed in his holy tax accountant getup. He looks exactly the same as he always does, maybe even cleaner, and Dean has a crazy moment where he wonders if he dreamed it all. Until Castiel opens his mouth.
"I am unsure of the proper protocol required in this situation."
Dean remains silent and stands up, his back popping angrily. Sleeping on the floor was a stupid idea.
"Yeah, uh," Dean begins awkwardly. "Tell you the truth, I kinda hate this part too. Wanna skip it?"
"We act as if nothing happened?" Castiel asks.
"Well, unless you want to go all 13-year-old girl and have a talk about our feelings..."
"No," Castiel says abruptly, voice slightly panicked. "No, I believe that is unnecessary."
"Okay, then. I guess we just..." he trails off, at a loss for words, and waves a hand in a gesture he hopes properly expresses what he means.
Dean pulls his pants on and looks up to find Cas staring at him. Dean sighs.
"Look, Cas," Dean says. "I don't... I don't regret it. But it's probably best if we kept the complications to a minimum. You know?"
"I do," Castiel says, and for the first time Dean notices Cas is a little pinched around the eyes. Dean's glad he's not the only one who has some new shit to mull over. "It would be the wisest course of action."
"Yeah," Dean says. He absolutely refuses to acknowledge the tiny corner of himself that is strangely disappointed. He pulls on his t-shirt and starts to wonder how the hell he's going to get a shower.
"...But perhaps," Castiel begins haltingly when Dean starts rooting through his jacket to find his keys. "...Perhaps one day, we could..." he raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck and doesn't make eye contact. "...again," he finishes lamely.
Dean ignores the surge of excitement that rushes through him at the prospect.
"Yeah," Dean says. "Maybe."
He slings on his jacket and reaches down to grab the jug of oil from the floor. He tosses it to Castiel, who looks annoyed, then surprised, and finally, shockingly, a little pink in the cheeks. Cas clears his throat.
"Anyways," Dean says with a grin. "Let's go kick some archangel ass."
As Dean walks past Cas, he claps him on the shoulder. Castiel follows after, a small smile teasing at the edges of his mouth.