Dean didn't think it was fair that Castiel could see in the dark just fine. "And you're sure you can't get the door open?"
Castiel's coat rustled and when Dean heard his voice it was back over by the basement door. "No. The warding sigils are...actually very advanced."
"Stop being impressed by the witches, Cas." Dean sighed, hands spread in front of him as he tried to get his bearings; he'd dropped his lighter upstairs somewhere between burning the crap out of the witches' altar and discovering this hidden basement setup and he knew Cas didn't carry anything helpful. His phone had died midway through the long stakeout to get the drop on the witches so he didn't even have the option of using that as a makeshift flashlight. "How about your phone? You still have any juice?"
"Just see if you can call Sam, Cas."
A few moments passed but Dean wasn't surprised when he heard Castiel say, "No. I believe the sigils would interfere with any devices down here."
"Perfect. Hope Sam's having better luck across town." It took less than a minute of fumbling around in the dark to smack his knee hard on something large and wooden in the center of the room. Dean heard Castiel's wings beat and a second later almost jumped out of his skin when Castiel zapped close enough for Dean to feel him breathing.
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah, yeah, fine. Just ran into..." He ran his hands over smooth wood, finding round cut-outs and a soft bed of felt. "Is this a pool table?"
"I suppose so?"
"What kind of witches leave their altars and creepy crap out in the open and hide their rec room like this?" Castiel didn't answer, giving Dean hope he was getting the hang of rhetorical questions. He settled back against the table, thankful that at least they'd taken the witches out before getting locked down here. When his hand brushed against Castiel's Dean startled back; the guy's hand felt like ice. "Fuck, Cas, you okay?'
"I'm..." Cas sighed and Dean heard the coat rustle again as he made a gesture Dean couldn't see. "The sigils are...uncomfortable."
"Does it hurt?" He slid Castiel's sleeve up past his wrist and checked his pulse, which seemed as close to normal as it ever did.
"No, it's..." He let out another frustrated breath. "The sigils are dampening my Grace and the proper word for the sensation doesn't exist in your language."
"'Sucks,' probably covers it, I'm betting." He traced his thumb along Castiel's palm, feeling a faint little shiver run through him. "How bad is it? We could try to force the door..."
"No. Breaking the sigils from inside would actually make it worse." He shivered again but cut Dean off before he could say anything. "I'm fine, Dean."
"Okay. Think I know what we do then."
Dean shifted in front of Cas, kissing him before Castiel could ask what he was doing – look, he was locked in a dark basement with someone in desperate need of distraction. A dark basement with a fucking pool table. He'd have to be made of stone to pass this up.
He sucked on Castiel's lower lip for a few seconds before deepening the kiss, sliding Cas' cold hands under his shirt. "Always wanted to do this," he admitted, sitting Castiel on the table and starting in on his shirt. He felt Cas' hand move to the small of his back, his lips at the hollow of Dean's throat. "I should make you close your eyes, too. Make things fair," Dean said, inclining his head back to give him better access.
"I like looking at you," he whispered back, the low murmur of his voice and the way he could feel Castiel's lips move going straight to Dean's groin.
Dean pushed him back onto the table, taking a second to suck on Cas' fingertip. "Let's warm you up, huh? How's that sound?"
He felt Cas lay back, his back arching as Dean trailed his hands down his chest, trying to compensate for lack of light by touching every inch of him. He wound Cas' tie around one hand and pulled him back up into a kiss as he climbed up on the table himself, then he went back to cataloging every inch of him, this time with his lips. Dean finished getting Cas out of his clothes and got rid of his own, then he leaned back over him, pinning his wrists down to the felt. He licked Cas' fingertips one by one, remembering watching Castiel cast the scrying spell that had let them find the witches in the first place and how hard he'd gotten just watching those long fingers paint the delicate focusing runes on the motel floor. Sometimes when he watched Cas do his thing Dean could almost feel those hands building him back up from bones and dust. As if to remind Cas of that too he fit Castiel's hand against the handprint on his shoulder. "You feeling better yet?"
Castiel answered with a low, needy sound that sent heat through his groin; Dean licked his way back up Cas' neck and along his jawline until he could trace along the edge of his lip, taking as much time as he could stand.
Cas' skin was still too cold; he felt like a statue come to life, cool, smooth marble turning to flesh under under Dean's hands. He kissed Cas' palm again, trying to warm him with his breath."Tell me what you want me to do, Cas," he said, shifting so his lips were right against Cas' ear.
"Just..." He arched up again, another moan slipping past his lips. "Just keep touching me," he whispered, the raw need mixing with the reluctance to ask for anything making Dean feel lightheaded. Dean didn't know how he did it but Cas had a gift for making the most ordinary requests sound like the most erotic fucking things in the world.
Cas was already hard and Dean trailed his fingertips up the length of Cas' cock as he draped himself over him to have as much contact as possible, his cool skin making him shiver. He worked his hand up and down Castiel's shaft, feeling Cas' breathing starting to go ragged in the way that always made Dean wonder if he wasn't just in the middle of a particularly awesome dream. One of Castiel's hands locked tight into his hair and as he pulled him even closer he pressed his other hand back against the handprint. Dean felt him start to rock his hips against Dean's hand and matched the rhythm; Dean trailed the fingers of his free hand over Castiel's lips before tipping his chin up into wet, sloppy kiss as he felt Cas start to shake. He rocked his own hips as Castiel moaned into his mouth as he came, his hand clenched tight in Dean's hair, the kind of hurt that only pushed Dean toward his own edge. The handprint burned the way it always did when Cas touched it as he climaxed, that touch of angelic fire Castiel buried under his skin waking up and circling around his spine and tracing the runes carved into his ribs like a ghostly caress.
He wrapped himself back around Castiel as the orgasm finished rushing through him, smirking at finding him flushed with warmth. "Those sigils don't seem like such a big deal now, huh?"
Cas nuzzled under Dean's jawline, settling on top of him with a happy sigh as Dean rolled onto his back. "That was very diverting."
"We've probably got a few hours before Sam comes looking for us. You gonna be okay 'till then?"
Dean didn't have to be able to see him to know the look Cas got in his eyes. "I'm sure you'll think of something to help me through it," he whispered into Dean's ear.
And yeah, Dean had to admit he had one or two ideas. "Can you see where we threw your tie?"
He felt Castiel nod as he pressed closer against Dean. "Why?"
"Just thought of something diverting we can do with it."
There were few things Dean liked more than being able to feel Castiel smile. "I may have an idea or two myself."