"I don't understand the point of that question. My attire should not influence your mood. Furthermore, the only attire you have seen me-"
Dean cut Castiel off with a laugh, imagining the confused, intense frown as the angel tried to figure out what he was missing here. "It's so I can picture what you look like. Come on, just play along."
There were a few moments more of silence before Castiel sighed. "A white shirt, tie, tan trench, and black slacks. I don't-"
"Now you ask me what I'm wearing," Dean instructed.
"What are you wearing, Dean?"
Dean let his voice drop a little, let it become husky and roughened like his palms and fingertips, his attitude, his beaten-up leather jacket. "Tight black t-shirt and dark jeans. Commando."
Sam was looking around in alarm now, his hairline rising and eyebrows pinching together as he glanced at his older brother. "Dean? What the..."
Dean ignored this, gazing through the old TV and continuing to speak into his cellphone. "Where are you?" Sam seemed satisfied for now that it was normal enough, but still held suspicions and listened in while he used his laptop.
Dean paused, then asked, "Want to give a little more detail?"
"In a library of ancient texts and scrolls, attempting to uncover the origins of a mysterious-"
"Okay, in a library. Are you alone?" Dean asked.
"Mm. I'm in the motel room, just lounging about on the bed..." Dean's voice dropped again, became sultry and suggestive.
Sam's head snapped around again. "Dude, what the hell?" he questioned, pouting to Dean and closing up his laptop, his cheeks red. "You could at least wait until I leave. I'm taking the car to the library."
"Don't damage it," Dean warned, tossing Sam the keys and watching him out, then snickering. "And now I'm alone," he murmured into the phone.
"All right." Castiel paused for a moment. "I am... sitting in a comfortable armchair," he told Dean, really trying now to emulate what Dean did. "There is nobody nearby."
"Mm, good..." Dean approved, listening to the Impala pull away and loosening his pants. "I'm lying here, all alone..."
"I can be there in-" Castiel started, but once again, was cut off.
"No, Cas," Dean chuckled. "Phone sex doesn't work that way, that's cheating. It's all about pretending to be there and wanting to, but not just... zapping yourself there."
"Okay," Castiel said slowly. "I'm leaning back and imagining you in the chair next to me," he said, the hesitance obvious in his tone.
"Yeah, that's it, good," Dean approved. "Mm, I'd like to be there, looking around to make sure we're alone and reaching over to rub your thigh."
"I can picture you doing that," Castiel matter-of-factly responded, his curiosity piqued now.
"Mm, good... I'm letting my fingertips trail along your thighs," Dean murmured breathily. "Your slacks are always so thin... so I can tease you like this..."
Castiel shifted some, licking his lips. "I'm imagining your hand caressing my thigh, Dean. While you did that, I would... I would return the favor, touching your leg and rubbing it."
Dean grinned as he heard Castiel start to get into it and understand now. "Yeah? Mm, my cock's already getting hard for you, babe."
"M-Mine... appears to be, too."
"I let my fingers trail along your stomach and down to graze your thigh again," Dean murmured. "Still not touching where you want, just teasing you with a promise..." At the same time, he reached down to touch his own thigh like this, picturing Castiel's hands and lips instead.
"I'm... erect, Dean. For you," Castiel quickly added as he felt his way through this encounter. "And I reach over to touch yours, rubbing the jeans slowly, as you like it."
Dean moved his hand to rub his stiffening cock through his jeans as Castiel described. "Oh, yeah," he breathed out. "I'm touching you now, too... are you touching yourself?"
"No. But I am now," Castiel told him, and Dean grinned as his voice became just a little breathier. "I'm rubbing my- you, through your jeans still, feeling you respond to my touch. Dean, I feel... hot. Even in the air conditioning here."
"That's good," Dean breathed out, rubbing himself steadily now. "I'm hot for you too, Cas... come on, my dick's aching for you now, touch me more..."
"I unzip your jeans and unbutton them, freeing you from their constraint. My hand is wrapped around your... erection," Castiel told him.
"You can say dick, you know," Dean chuckled. "Or cock. Mm, mine's aching now, thinking about you on it... damn, that'd be hot, right in public..."
"It's three o'clock in the morning," Castiel informed him. "Nobody else is here."
"Okay, fine," Dean chuckled, then returned to his fantasy. "Okay, so I unfasten your pants too, slide them off your hips, and underwear too, so you're half-naked..." He listened to the rustles as Castiel did this, smirking all the while. "And then I grab your tie and pull you onto my lap so our cocks can touch and rub together... damn, that feels good."
"Yes," Castiel agreed in a breathless whisper. "I'm grinding down against your lap now. My... my dick is very hard. I'm imagining you right here, riding you the way you like it."
"Bet you'd like that," Dean agreed, also losing his breath as he stroked his own arousal, picturing a half-naked, dishevelled angel grinding down against him.
"I would," Castiel immediately replied. "I'm... hungry now, Dean. Nobody's around and it's just us. I want you."
"I want you too... c'mon, ride me, baby. Get yourself ready and ride me."
Castiel let out a low groan.
"What are you doing?" Dean questioned.
"My... my fingers are inside me," Castiel moaned. "I'm riding you."
Dean felt a jolt straight to his groin, and he sped up his pace. "That's it, baby. Fuck, yeah..."
"I feel your... your cock, sliding inside of me. I like it, Dean. I want it."
"I want it too... your tight little ass is always perfect, always great..."
"Dean," Castiel breathed out, then made another low whining sound. "I'm touching myself now, too. I'm going to come to this."
"That's it," Dean encouraged. "Come for me, baby, for the sound of my voice. I'm right here, and fuck, I'm getting there too. You riding me, jerking yourself off right above me in the chair... Jesus."
"Dean, I'm close," Castiel whimpered. "I like this. A lot."
"We'll do it again," Dean promised. "Come if you need to, just let me hear you. Come on, baby. Ride me like there's no tomorrow."
There was a constant creaking, a shifting and gasping from Castiel's end as he rode his own fingers, and that mental picture pushed Dean close to the edge already.
"Dean, I'm coming," Castiel moaned. "Oh, I-Dean... Dean," he breathed out, his voice hitching in his throat before a low growl escaped, more rustling and panted breaths.
"Fuck, Cas... it's amazing, listening to you... god, I can picture you already..." Dean told him, his voice low and growling. "You're mine, Cas... fuck, yes..."
"I came, Dean."
The simple statement pushed Dean over the edge to his blissful few seconds of orgasm, too. "Cas!" he groaned, spilling in his hand and arching up off the bed, his other hand gripping the sheets beneath him tightly while his head rolled to the side to listen to the phone on the pillow under his ear. "Fuck, Cas..."
"Are you done, too?" Castiel inquired.
"Yeah... yeah, babe. That was... that was good," Dean breathed out as he recovered, still lazily rubbing himself a few more times.
"Very good," Castiel agreed. "I must go now, before the security guard patrols again."
"Okay," Dean breathed out, smiling to himself and wiping his forehead off with his arm. "Damn."
"I agree," Castiel said, his usual voice starting to return. "I'll call you tomorrow morning. Be alone."
"Cas-" Dean started, but the phone had clicked, and he was left with himself. He shook his head, hanging up and surveying his own dishevelled state. "Okay, sounds good," he murmured to himself, a smirk crossing his face.