Dean's jacket hit the floor heavily as Cas watched from the chair. He was staring up at Dean, unblinking and earnest, his back straight and his hands on his knees. If it weren't for his bare chest and tented pants, you'd never guess that he was watching his boyfriend undress.

"Okay, Cas," said Dean as he lifted the hem of his t-shirt a little, showing off his abs, "I know I said I'd show you how it was done, but you're watching me like I'm an instructional video. It's kinda creeping me out."

Cas blinked. "I apologize," he said. He began shifting his eyes and bunching his shoulders, trying to figure out the correct body language for the situation.

Laughing, Dean put a hand on Cas's shoulder and shoved him deeper into the chair so he was reclining a little. "Just relax," he said, "You're supposed to be enjoying this."

"I am," Cas assured him, smiling just a little as Dean resumed taking his shirt off.

Dean peeled his shirt off slowly. Cas's eyes followed the hem of it as more and more of Dean's torso was exposed. This wasn't anything Cas hadn't seen before – Dean had had to change and shower and stitch up wounds, unlike Cas – but he was watching somewhat more intently this time. Or maybe he had just been hiding his interest all the other times; it was hard to say.

When he had pulled the shirt free, Dean left his hands above his head for a moment, twisting the shirt around his wrists. He let Cas appreciate his body in full length, his muscles stretched long, before twirling the shirt twice and tossing it to the side. Cas's hands began to move from his knees, sliding their way up his thighs.

And then Dean finally felt a twinge of self-consciousness. He was out of things to take off except everything below the belt. Cas definitely hadn't seen that yet, not since he had remade Dean straight out of Hell (and that didn't really count).

As Dean took his pants off, he imagined that he must look as awkward as Cas had taking off his shirt. He shucked them quickly and unceremoniously, hooking his socks with his fingers as he pulled them over his ankles, and soon he stood in nothing but his boxers. Cas's hands had traveled up his thighs and into his lap. His eyes swept over Dean's body and then back up to his face, where he gave Dean a tiny, encouraging nod. That was enough to make Dean take a deep breath and remove his boxers.

And then, somehow, the awkwardness melted away. Cas was gazing at Dean's body so appreciatively, so reverently, that Dean soon found that he had nothing to be insecure about. He even struck a few poses, throwing Cas goofy grins while he flexed his muscles.

"You like what you see, babe?" he laughed.

Cas wasn't laughing. "Come over here," he requested huskily.

Dean turned in a slow circle. "If you want me, come and get me," he said.

"Dean," said Cas, "Come over here." His voice sent a jolt through Dean's body, and Dean realized his mistake. That hadn't been a request. It had been an order.

Dean walked over to the chair and planted his feet just to either side of Cas's shoes. He felt like he was presenting himself for inspection. Cas leaned forward, his face level with Dean's abdomen but not touching it, not yet. First he reached his hand up and placed it on Dean's chest. For a moment Dean thought Cas was trying to reach his tattoo, but then he realized that Cas was feeling his heartbeat.

Cas's hand dragged its way down, rough and slow, fingers digging in lightly just as Dean's had done. He felt his way down Dean's ribcage and over to his flank, and then continued down past his hip and over his thigh. He looked like he was marveling at the long line of unbroken skin.

Dean was so focused on the hand making its way down his leg that he let out a little surprised noise when Cas leaned forward, closing the last few inches to press a kiss just under Dean's navel. Then he gave Dean a second kiss, this time a fraction lower. And lower. And lower still.

"Cas," Dean said breathily, "You don't have to. Not if you don't want to."

Cas's eyes flicked up, his lips never breaking contact with Dean's skin. "I want to," he said simply.

"I know you're new at this," said Dean, his hand rising to run a finger along Cas's jaw, "I'm trying to take things slow with you."

Just before Cas dropped his head down to take Dean's cock into his mouth, he said, "I know. And I'm trying to speed things up."