Dean threw his head back, laughing heartily and clapping his brother on the back as they headed out of the dive of a bar in some podunk town, Castiel trailing along behind them. Sam pocketed a wad of bills with a smile on his slightly glazed face.
Pickings had been good tonight. Dean loved hustling drunken rednecks of their money. He was just sorry they had to leave so soon. It was better this way, though.
"The natives are getting restless," Dean had muttered in Sam's ear when he noticed the group pressing in on Sam, understanding dawning in their drunken, sluggish minds, "wrap it up." Dean turned back to a slightly tipsy Castiel and the two women sitting with them at the bar, leaving a slightley drunken Sam to finish up at the pool table.
The perky blonde next to Castiel had her hand on his thigh. Turning him on his swiveling stool to face her, she pressed up against him. Dean watched her slip her body in between the angel's knees and lean up to whisper in his ear. Dean watched Cas swallow hard, and something hot and sharp flared in Dean's chest as the blonde's hands moved slowly up Cas' legs.
Her brunette friend wrapped her arms around Dean and started sucking on his ear. A thought of what else he'd rather she were sucking on swam through his mind, and Dean was distracted by Castiel's sudden movement; he had leaped off the stool, knocking the blonde to the ground in his haste.
Dean looked up at the stony expression on Castiel's face. He watched as color flooded his cheeks, and he turned his blue eyes to the ground.
"Easy there, tiger," he laughed as he reached down to pluck the blonde from the floor. With a smooth, apologetic smile, Dean turned his charm to the blonde, wrapping an arm around her waist and giving her a squeeze. "Sorry, gorgeous. My buddy here, he's...uh...a little jumpy since the war..." he covered. Dean knew women had a thing for uniforms, might as well make the best of it, right? Besides, it wasn't ENTIRELY a lie; Cas had fought in the civil war in Heaven...
The blonde turned back to Castiel as though he were a lost kitten. She approached Castiel slowly, batting her big, brown doe eyes at him in sympathy. Dean looked away from the two, a hard churning in his stomach. Maybe the burgers had been bad.
He turned his attentions back to the brunette in his arms, and was gearing up to seal the deal when Sam grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him toward the door with a mumbled 'Poughkeepsie' in his ear. Dean snapped into action, and pulled his buck knife from the back of his jeans as the crowd of drunken rednecks pressed them closer to the exit.
They burst out the door in a flurry of humor, and climbed into the Impala.
"Oh," Dean sighed, "that was fun." He started the engine, and they peeled out of the lot before the angry drunks could follow.
They drove in silence for a while. They were less than an hour from the bunker, and Dean knew the roads well enough. Sam dozed off in the passenger seat, and Dean mused over the loss of a sure thing with that busty brunette. She looked like she would have been bendy.
Cas huffed from the backseat, his chin resting on his fist as he glared out the window.
Dean chuckled to himself.
He wasn't the only one to have missed out on a sure thing tonight.
There was that weird stomach thing again.
Dean tried to imagine just how awkward that sex would have been. Did Cas even know what to do? Sure, he had been around since the dawn of time, but theoretical knowledge was WAY different from practical knowledge. He chuckled again at the thought of what he was sure would have been Cas' awkward attempts at getting laid.
Another angry huff from Cas made Dean's eyes flick up to the rearview mirror. Cas' glare met Dean's amusement.
'Aw.' Dean thought. 'Poor Cas. Dude just can't catch a break, can he?' Dean smiled wide. 'I'll bet that little blonde would have eaten him alive!' He glanced up in the mirror again, and noticed Cas' face had turned an angry, flushed red. 'Woah,' his thoughts continued, 'dude looks pissed. Maybe he wasn't into the blonde after all. Ah, shit, maybe he's got a thing for brunettes, and I totally cockblocked him!' Dean looked up in the mirror for a third time.
This time Castiel held his gaze, as he shook his head back and forth slowly.
That was weird.
It was almost like Cas had heard his thoughts.
Could Cas HEAR his thoughts?
Dean's eyes flicked up to the mirror again, and Cas' eyes shone bright and hard. He nodded once.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
That was all manner of...
Dean couldn't decide what, but whatever it was, it was extreme.
He licked his lips and looked back up into the mirror. 'Okay,' he thought, 'this could be a fun game.'
Cas rolled his eyes and looked out the window again.
'So, Cas, were you into that blonde?'
Cas waited until Dean looked up from the road again to shake his head no.
'I was right, then, you were into the brunette and I got all kinds of in your way.'
Again, Cas shook his head no.
'Well, then, what the Hell, dude? There were just the four of us up at the bar, and it was pretty obvious you were getting a little hot and bothered. What, were you hoping for a threesome?'
Another eyeroll from Castiel and a shake of his head. Firmer that time.
'So you didn't want either of those chicks, and you didn't want BOTH of those chicks, so what the Hell were hoping for?' Dean's eyes shot up to the mirror in annoyed confusion. What he found there almost made him drive off the road.
Cas' deep blue eyes were blown wide with lust. His face was flushed, and his hard, silent gaze spoke volumes.
'Shit, Cas!' Dean's eyes found the road again before the tires hit the shoulder. He jerked the wheel, getting them back into their lane. Sam snorted and stirred next to Dean, but didn't wake. 'How long have you..?' Dean couldn't even finish the thought. He looked back up at Cas' reflection, and knew the answer. 'Since you pulled me out of Hell.'
Another slow nod.
Strings of profanities raced through Dean's mind. He'd be lying if he didn't admit the thought of Cas and him together hadn't crossed his mind, but he'd never...
'I'm not gay!' He thought as loudly as he could.
Cas just stared at him through his lashes, a look of defeat on his angelic face.
Dean couldn't stand to see Cas like that.
'Oh come on, don't be like that.' Dean shifted in his seat. 'It's not that you aren't good looking, or awesome, or anything, it's just...' he scrubbed a hand down his face, 'I've just never...I don't know.' Dean looked out at the lines of the road, watching them slide by.
'I've never touched another guys dick, okay?' He thought loudly. It felt like he was admitting something that should be a secret. 'I...wouldn't know where to start.' He sighed. 'I mean, I know what I like, ya know?' He chanced a cocky smile up at Cas' reflection.
Wide, almost innocent eyes stared back. Cas shook his head.
'Whaddya mean 'no'?' Dean's thoughts were nearly indignant. 'You don't know what you like?' This time when Dean looked up, Castiel's gaze was dropped to his lap, but the shake of his head was unmistakable. 'Jesus, Cas! You mean to tell me you've never jacked off?!' Dean heard, rather than saw Cas shift uncomfortably in the back seat. 'Damn Cas, you don't know what you're missing.'
When Dean looked up again, he was met with the most pleading look he'd ever seen in his life. No angel, demon or monster had ever plead for their life as hard as Cas was pleading to him now. Dean's heart skipped a beat, and his breathing sped up.
'You-you want me talk you through it, don't you?!' Dean's tone was disbelieving. 'Well, THINK you through it, I guess...' He watched Castiel's reflection nod, lips parted, eyes hopeful. Dean glanced over at Sam, still sound asleep. 'Cas, you can't be serious.'
There it was again. That dejected look. Dean couldn't take it.
'FINE!' His blood turned hot in his veins, and he rubbed his eyes. 'Uh...get – get comfortable I guess.' He caught Cas' questioning look. 'You know, spread your legs a little wider, maybe slide down a little in your seat so have more room. Just...get comfortable! And take your damn coat off. The suit jacket, too.' Dean was anything but comfortable.
'Fuck, I can't believe I'm doing this.' Dean rolled his eyes skyward. 'Okay, if this is gonna happen, there are two rules: one – don't get your spunk all over my baby.'
'And two – for the love of all things holy, do NOT wake Sam.'
Cas nodded again.
Dean rubbed his face once more, and shifted in his seat.
'Alright, just...start with teasing it a little. Um...run your hands up and down your thighs. Slowly. Just get used to the feel of your hands; what kind of pressure you like. Do you like your palm or your fingers better? Or your nails?'
Cas did as he was told, exploring the sensation of each different way he touched himself.
'Okay, now...slide one hand to the inside of your thigh, and rub up and down around the seam of your pants. Work your way up toward your dick, but don't rush it.' Dean watched Cas' eyes flutter when his hand finally came into contact with his cock. He turned his own eyes back to the road and gripped the wheel a little tighter. 'Now run your fingers over your dick. Nice and light. Tease yourself a little.'
Cas' breath hitched, and Dean felt his own cock twitch with longing. 'That's it, Cas. Feels good, doesn't it?'
Cas nodded again.
Dean smiled. 'We're just getting started.'
Dean licked his lips and shifted, tugging at his bunched up jeans a bit to give himself a little more room. 'Now I want you to undo your belt.'
Cas did so with haste, eager for Dean's next instructions.
'Good, now undo the button on your pants and slide your zipper down, but don't touch yet.'
Again, Cas did as he was told. He sighed at the relief and freedom from the pressure of the fabric.
'Okay, move your pants a bit, so your cock isn't trapped in there anymore, but keep your...' Dean leaned up and chanced a glance up high into the mirror to see what Cas had on underneath his pants: plain, white boxers. 'Your boxers, keep them over your dick still.' Dean heard Cas shuffle around in the back seat for a moment, doing his best to get himself situated they way Dean had instructed.
Once Cas stopped moving, Dean started again. 'You hard yet, Cas?' Dean smirked.
Dean didn't even have to look. He already knew the answer. 'You leaking yet?'
Dean looked up for this answer, though. He looked at Cas, who was watching the tent in his pants with awe, hesitation, and something that looked close to fear.
Cas looked up at Dean, eyes wide.
Dean clenched his jaw at the sight of Cas panting and flushed.
Cas swallowed hard and nodded once again.
'God, Cas!' Dean shook his head, trying to dispel the arousal he felt. Dean wondered if the voice in his head sounded as breathless as he felt. 'Fuck.'
Cas' pleading look spurred Dean on.
'Slide your fingers over your boxers, nice and slow.'
Cas gasped at the increase in sensation with one less layer of clothing.
'Good,' Dean thought. 'Now just a little harder. Just a little more pressure.'
A soft groan escaped Cas' lips.
Dean tried to block out the sound.
'You want more, Cas?' Dean bit down on his lower lip.
Cas couldn't nod fast enough.
'Alright, slide your boxers down. Pull yourself free of them and your pants.' Dean did everything in his power to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn't help his eyes drifting up to the mirror when Cas pressed up to slide his pants and boxers lower.
Cas WAS hard. Very hard. His length curving up toward his firm belly, begging for attention. Something in Dean stirred, and he wished he was the one...
He shook his head again, waiting for Cas to situate himself in the backseat. He had shifted over toward the door more, and Dean couldn't see him as well in the mirror anymore. A fleeting feeling of loss passed through Dean.
Cas looked up, leaning toward the center, catching Dean's eye, and he slid over until he was sure Dean could see him clearly again. Cas licked his dry lips, his hands clenching at his sides, his cock hard and dripping, waiting for Dean to go on.
'Wrap you hand around yourself and stroke up.' Dean's eyes moved constantly between the road and the rearview mirror.
A harsh hiss from behind him drew his attention back to the mirror.
Cas had a pained look on his face.
'Easy, Cas!' Dean soothed. 'Don't grip so hard. Loosen your fist. Stroke slowly. Gently.'
Cas followed Dean's instructions. His head tipped back against the back of the seat. Cas did his best to bite back the moan that threatened to tear from his chest.
'Oh fuck, Cas! That's it. Just like that.'
Cas continued stroking the length of his cock, his breath coming in shallow pants.
'Keep going Cas, don't stop.'
Dean felt the precum leaking from his own cock as he listened to Cas' quick breaths. He could almost feel them on the back of his neck.
A quiet grunt sounded from the back and Dean looked up again. 'Oh, shit.' He patted around the pockets of his jacket, looking for something. He dug into one of them and pulled out a small packet of lube. Dean reached up over his shoulder to hand the packet to Cas. 'Here.' He thought. 'This'll help.'
Cas leaned forward, taking the packet from Dean. Their hands brushed slightly, and it felt like an electrical shock sparked through Dean.
'Open that up. Pour it in your palm.'
Cas did as he was told.
'Good. Now try stroking yourself again.'
This time Cas was unable to hold the groan back as his hand slid easily over his heated flesh.
Sam shifted in his seat.
'Easy, Cas! Don't wake the moose.'
Cas nodded, biting down on his bottom lip to keep the noises in.
'Keep stroking, babe. You're doing so good.'
A shudder ran through Cas, and Dean didn't miss it.
'What was that for? Something feel good?'
Cas clenched his eyes and shook his head.
'Something feel bad?' Dean was suddenly concerned.
Cas shook his head harder.
'Was it something I said? Uh...thought?'
Cas nodded, panting harder.
Dean wracked his brain, trying hard to remember what it was he'd thought. It dawned on him suddenly.
'You liked it when I called you babe, didn't you?'
Another hitched breath and a shudder ran through Cas' body.
Dean was gone.
For all his bravado, his insistence that he wasn't gay, wasn't into dudes, Dean had never been more turned on in his life than he was at that moment. Dean looked up at the wrecked angel in his rearview mirror.
'Fuck, Cas! Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?' Dean palmed himself through his jeans, trying to adjust.
Cas let out another sigh from the back seat.
'Faster, Cas. Stroke yourself a little faster. That's right, babe.'
Cas threw his head back at the word.
'Now take your other hand and slide it down past your cock. Stroke your sack with it. Roll your balls around in your hand.'
Dean caught a sudden movement in the mirror and watched as Cas thrust his hips up almost frantically. 'Yeah, like that. Now give them a little squeeze. Not too hard, though!' Dean listened to the tiny mewling noises that slipped from Cas, and wished it could be him pulling those sounds from Cas.
Dean's breath caught in his throat when he heard what sounded distinctly like his own name whispering across Cas' lips.
'Shit, babe.' Dean swallowed hard. 'You wish it was me touching you, too, don't you?'
Cas nodded vigorously, the pace of his hand speeding up more. It seemed instinct had finally taken over, and Cas' body knew exactly what it wanted. What it needed.
They were close to the bunker. Five minutes away at most. Dean was determined to finish Cas off before they arrived.
'You like it fast, Cas?' Dean got nothing more than a breathy sigh in response. 'Grip a little tighter, babe. It won't hurt this time with the lube.'
A choked off sob worked its way out of Cas.
'Fuck, yeah, like that, babe. You like it a little tight? A little rough, don't you? That's it, Cas, stroke yourself.' The shallow pants from the back seat got faster and faster. 'Close your eyes, babe, imagine it's my hands making you feel so good. So hot.'
A low moan slipped from between Cas' full, pink lips.
'My hands making you cum. God, I wanna see you cum, Cas! Cum for me, babe!'
A deep groan tore it's way out of Cas as he came, hard, all over his fist.
Dean watched him in the mirror as Cas painted his own shirt with his release. Dean's cock ached with need and he gripped the steering wheel hard. 'Keep stroking, babe. Yeah, keep going. Your body will tell you when to stop.'
Cas' fist slowed to a stop just at the turnoff for the bunker. 'You'd better put yourself back together. Sammy'll wake up as soon as we hit the gravel.'
Cas heaved a sigh as he slid his boxers and pants back up.
Dean stole another glance as Cas lifted his hips to pull them up. Without realizing it, Dean licked his lips, wondering what Cas might taste like.
He couldn't bring himself to be embarrassed when he caught Cas' surprised look in the mirror at that. He couldn't blame it on the booze, or on his arousal when he thought; 'next time, babe.'
Sam woke, as Dean had predicted, as soon as they turned onto the gravel drive. Cas had sorted himself out by then.
"Sorry, guys," Sam said, rubbing his eyes, "didn't mean to doze off like that. Guess I'm more tired than I thought I was."
They pulled into the garage, and Sam, still half asleep, grabbed his bag and headed off with a quick goodnight to the others.
When Cas and Dean were finally alone, Dean turned to the blue-eyed angel with a smirk. He pulled Cas' trench coat open, and looked at the mess hidden beneath it on his shirt.
Before he knew what was happening, Dean was pinned against the side of the car, Cas' firm body pressed up against him, his fists curled in Dean's shirt.
"Jesus, Cas-," Dean began, but the angel cut him off.
"I want to hear you say it, Dean," Cas' eyes were hungry. Insatiable. Dean swallowed a moan.
Cas surged forward, crushing his lips to Dean's in a heated kiss that spoke of all the years of withheld passion that simmered below that trench coat. Dean slipped his hands under the coat, gripping Cas' hips, and pulled him close.
After long moments of tongue and lips searching and exploring, Cas pulled back. He caught Dean's gaze full on and in person. No reflections this time.
"What was that you were thinking about a 'next time'?" Cas smiled.