Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural; I am making no profit from this story.

Set during season 5, I guess.


It all started, funnily enough, when Dean noticed Castiel giving him bedroom eyes.

That's not to say the angel's stare hadn't always been intense - it had. Emphatically it had, and more than once Dean had been rattled by that blue, unrelenting gaze. (He wouldn't say rattled. He'd say it was just fucking weird. Sam would pop in and say it was disconcerting. Which was why Dean didn't listen to Sam.) But suddenly it wasn't just business and duty; it was still imploring, but there was something he was asking for that Dean wasn't entirely sure he was ready to give him. It shook him up when he noticed, out of nowhere, Castiel looking at him like he was picturing all the ways Dean could fuck his brains out. And Dean was just walking with Sam back to the Impala, and there was Cas, waiting. Staring.

His eyes - which, really, Dean frequently mused couldn't have been natural; were any human's eyes really that blue? it had to be an angel thing - were hooded, his head cocked, and as Dean licked dry lips those dark eyes followed his tongue. Fucking followed it, and Dean nearly staggered back in surprise.

"Dude, were you just... ?" He looked to Sammy for confirmation, but his brother, totally clueless, just shook his head and shrugged. Cas still looked intense and - that couldn't be lust, that just wasn't fucking lust, Dean swore - there was that something still there, but he spoke in completely normal tones, his gaze turning to Sam. It didn't seem to smolder. He looked totally normal, just like that, but Dean - suddenly skittish - made sure to keep an eye on him for as long as he was there.

And it continued like that for some time. Cas would always be looking at him: no suggestive movements, no seductive smiles, just those two damn eyes like spotlights, focused and bright, and full of promise.

Except they couldn't be; they couldn't, Dean told himself again and again, because Cas was a fucking angel and they were asexual beings anyway, they didn't even have gender.

Which, of course, only set him off more, because that meant Cas wasn't really a man and if he wanted to be he could maybe even be a woman. But Lady-Castiel was too hot and confusing and hot, so Dean shut that train of thought down just as quickly. Every time he caught Cas staring after that he'd stare right back, focusing on Jimmy's body, thinking about how solid and strong and male and...

And that didn't work either because maybe Dean kind of liked that, too. He never really wanted men actively, but maybe he'd noticed when a man was good-looking, and the thought of a rough tumble might have been just a little hot, and maybe hard and strong was just as good as a woman's soft and sweet.

So the more Castiel stared the more Dean stared back, and it got to the point where even in front of Sam they were eye-fucking pretty seriously.

Or at least that's what Dean thought.

Castiel had been looking at him again, and Dean was so strung out, heady with the attention, that as soon as Sam went into the bathroom to take a shower, he strode up to Cas.

"So, uh..." He cleared this throat and rubbed one hand against the back of his neck. "Is this gonna happen or what?"

Castiel tilted his head. "Is what going to happen, Dean?"

Coy. Dean could deal with fucking coy. So he grinned - sexiest grin he could manage and damn it all if it didn't make Cas' brow wrinkle in that really far too adorable way - and moved closer. "I've seen you staring," he said, his voice low. It would probably be inappropriate to just wrap Castiel's tie around his fist and pull him forward. Dean filed that thought away for later, though. "I mean... I didn't want it at first. I thought it was just another one of your weird-ass angel moves. But, uh..." He shifted even closer and their bodies were nearly touching, and there was heat between them, moving like a wave. Dean was already pretty aroused, his head swimming. He might get to kiss Castiel. He might be able to fucking kiss Castiel, and if that wasn't hot enough to make his knees quake, then the thoughts of what they would do after the kissing certainly were.

Yeah, it was weird. Cas was still, basically, a man - or at least his body was a man's, and Dean didn't have quite as much experience in that area, but he knew what he liked and Castiel had no idea, so maybe his knowledge would be enough for the both of them.

"Dean."

He snapped his eyes from where they'd been fixed rather salaciously on Castiel's waistline. "Uh. Yeah, what?"

"I do not understand." Dean blinked. "You are trying to imply something, but I am not sure what."

Dean's hopes deflated faster than a leaky balloon. "Cas, dude, don't leave me hanging here. The way you've been looking at me?"

"It is how I always look at you."

"Yeah, but..." He looked up at the angel blankly. "No. No!" He did grab Castiel's tie and tugged him closer until their faces were only inches apart. "You don't see what you've been doing? I've been imagining it?"

And even with as sexy as the angel could sound, his voice was flat, placid and unfeeling. "That would be my guess, since I do not know what you mean."

Dean's eyes had drifted down to Cas' mouth, and he was debating whether or not it would be a good idea to kiss him anyway.

"You seem... distracted." A pause. "And you are still holding my tie."

Dean swallowed, words heavy on his tongue. He could scarcely believe what he was about to say - he wasn't even entirely sure it was possible to seduce an angel - especially Cas - and he was pretty sure it was a bad idea to try. But he licked his lips and tried to look appealing - whatever was fucking appealing to a tight-ass celestial being. "I am. Distracted." He loosened his hold on the tie and moved his hand gently down in one smooth stroke. "Do you have any idea what it's been like for me?"

Castiel was silent.

"Those eyes of yours," he went on, his voice choked and dangerous. "The way you look at me. Like you want to rip off all my fucking clothes."

"You are very close to me, Dean."

And there it was, the flutter of nerves in his whiskey-rough voice.

Dean smiled, teeth shining like a wolf's. And then he leaned in less than an inch and pulled Cas' tie, hard, so he met him the rest of the way.

It was awkward. Really, really awkward. Cas made soft, hesitant little noises, his arms raised up, hands by his shoulders and palms forward. Like he didn't know what to do with them. Dean bit down gently and kissed with a hot, open mouth, pulling on the tie and wrapping his other arm around Cas' waist.

"Too close?" Dean asked, pulling away a little. Castiel's hands still hung awkwardly up in the air, but his breathing had grown heavy and his eyes - again, again, those deep as the fucking ocean eyes - were half-lidded, pupils blown. "Because I can move away if you want."

"Dean." The timbre of his voice was soft, and new. Like he was feeling all the this for the first time. And he was. He was and Dean felt like a dick for forcing it on him all at once. Except it was so good - so good when it was new - and maybe he was selfish for wanting his body to be the first Cas desired, for wanting the sensations he caused to be the first that coursed through the angel like lightening. Cas put his hand to his lips, looking awed. Like he was marveling at the feel, at the aftershocks of Dean's mouth on his.

Then. And so slowly Dean could hardly stand it, he moved one trembling - fucking trembling, Dean saw it trembling - hand and his fingertips landed with reverence on the soft swell of Dean's bottom lip.

That was just beautiful, and Dean watched Cas' eyes as he tentatively explored. They were shining, brimming over with new, raw emotion. Dean's lips parted, barely, and he sucked Cas' finger into his mouth, letting it sit on the wet, flat plane of his tongue. Castiel seemed very, very interested in the new sensations, and even though Dean knew Cas probably didn't understand what he was suggesting, he slid his tongue along the side of the angel's finger and sucked it further in his mouth. He let it slip out a little and he sucked it in again, harder, and Cas watched him, kept his eyes locked on Dean's mouth as his chest heaved in little staccato breaths.

After another short moment, Dean stopped and Castiel withdrew his finger. "Can you feel that?" Dean asked. He hooked his hand around the back of Cas' neck. "Do you... do you feel that?" 'Like I do?' he didn't say.

Cas closed his eyes for a long moment. His head fell back and he let out a long shaky breath, his shoulders shifting almost unnoticably up and down. "I can... This body," he said, "is what another set of clothes would be for you."

"Angel condom. Got it."

"My senses are dulled."

"Yeah, but you're not human. Have you ever felt, like... any of this physical stuff? Because I got to tell you, Cas, it's good." He locked eyes and stared, hard, trying to relate something he didn't know how to say. "It's good."

But before Cas could respond, before anything else could happen, they both heard a sound. "Your brother," Castiel said, looking marginally flustered. "I do not think this situation will be - "

"Hey, just shut up for a second," Dean said, cutting him off. "Sammy doesn't have to know." Dean stepped away and threw himself down on the bed, grabbing the remote and switching on the tv just as the bathroom door opened and Sam, towel draped around his shoulders, stepped into the room.

"You want the bathroom, Dean?"

Dean, pulled his attention away from the television set, where he'd been pretending to be engrossed in whatever was on. "Huh? Oh, uh, maybe in a minute. I'm good for now."

Sam shrugged and said "Suit yourself." He sat down on his bed and pulled his laptop over, turning it on and leaning backwards onto the pillows.

Dean shot Castiel a look. 'Come here,' he mouthed, gesturing over to a spot on the bed beside him.

Tentatively, Cas obeyed. He sat down at the foot of the bed, looking as stiff and awkward as ever. Glancing over at Sam, Dean turned the TV volume up a few notches. He tugged Castiel a little closer and, having not yet guessed Dean's motives, the angel complied.

Dean turned on his side, his back to Sam, and put a finger to his lips. His other hand moved slowly over to Cas and slid up his thigh. And if he swallowed nervously, Dean ignored it, and if he was wearing pants Dean wasn't about to let them get in the way.

'Your brother is right there,' Cas mouthed, his eyes wide, trying - and obviously failing - to ignore Dean's advances. 'This is inappropriate.'

Which really only made Dean want it more, and was it his fault if Cas should have known that? 'What's inappropriate?'

Castiel frowned and Dean took pity on him - momentarily - and moved his hand from Cas' thigh to his arm. His fingers moved gingerly along the angel's wrist. He was barely touching skin, but there was the maybe, maybe, maybe of so much more; and Dean would never call himself a tease, but there was something painfully erotic about working up one poor, virgin angel to fever pitch. Cas watched him intently, his eyes so fixed on the hand Dean was suprised it didn't burst into flame.

"I..." Cas cleared his throat suddenly to cover his slip, and he lowered his voice immediately back down to a whisper. Sam didn't seem to have noticed. 'I do, Dean. I feel.' He seemed perturbed, worried, like the sensations were too much - like they'd confused him more than they should.

And, Dean realized with a jolt, maybe they had. If Cas could feel, if he was slipping more and more into the body he wore - unless he was doing it on purpose, fo himself, then that couldn't mean anything good. 'Is it like... Are you feeling it? Or is he...'

Cas stared at him, their eyes locked. Dean shifted a little, suddenly uncomfortable, feeling naked and vulnerable under that penetrating gaze. Then Castiel licked his lips and wove his fingers in between Dean's. 'Me.'

And suddenly Dean couldn't breathe - and there was no way Cas realized how sexy he was, he just couldn't, but damn it made Dean burn - and the room seemed suffocating and every click of Sam's keys, every little breath or sigh seemed amplified a thousand times until Dean's ears were ringing with the small, insignificant sounds. It was so quiet - like the moment before a sonic boom, like something had been put on pause and they were waiting, waiting until things could move again.

And Dean really, really wanted to kiss the man before him, wanted to do filthy-dirty things, wanted to fuck that pretty mouth with his tongue, make it so good, so beautiful, so sweet they both might cry.

"Everything all right?" Sam asked, not looking up from his keyboard. Castiel dropped Dean's hand. "You're being too quiet."

"Aww, nothing's wrong, Sammy," Dean answered, not even trying to disguise his longing as he stared at Cas, as he led the angel's eyes downward as he moved his hand down his own chest, and dipped one finger past the waistband of his jeans. "There's just nothing that I need to say."


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