Kimber came up with the idea for a rock band au, and at the moment there's just a few of us on tumblr contributing drabbles etc, so I'm just crossposting my parts here! Check out the tag on my tumblr to see more stuff like headcanons and fic from other people! So yeah, the chapters are actually more timestamps and doesn't necessarily follow any particular order!

Timestamp summary: The one where they're in a band, and Dean likes to get Cas all worked up when they're onstage.


It's all a game.

It's a very risky, extremely hot game that they love to play.

The first time was just Dean flirting with Cas, trying to bring him out of his shell on stage and cop a cheap feel. That had just been Dean being selfish, wanting an excuse to rub up on Cas without having to explain that he thinks he's fucking gorgeous and perfect. But then Cas had gone with it, he'd let Dean get too close and slot their bodies together, and his vocals never once faltered.

But now, now it's so much more. The dynamic is different, and this is a game of chicken between two guys that go at it like rabbits when they're offstage. It's a test to see who can last the longest before pulling away, who will mess up first, who will let slip a moan that can't blend into the song. It's teasing and delicious and nobody else has a clue.

The crowd go wild for it - girls watching with wide eyes and open mouths as they move together, hips rolling and dipping and cocks hardening within the confines of tight jeans. Benny and Victor, well they just think the two of them are putting on a good show, rousing the fans and going for it, because there's nothing better than a band with chemistry.

It's almost a ritual. It will happen at every show, but nobody knows when exactly, because contrary to popular belief it is anything but a staged act. What really happens is that Cas keeps looking at Dean when they're playing, he's singing to him, biting his bottom lip and taking him in from top to bottom. His eyes flitting from the audience to Dean, filthy things flying out of his mouth because they write some of their songs now, and boy are they dirty. Maybe not explicitly so, but the subtext is so clear that it'll knock you on your ass. It's worse than the time they covered Pour Some Sugar On Me, and Cas was adding in all these throaty groans and rubbing his hand over his stomach, pushing his shirt up enough to display the jut of his hipbones and the trail of hair disappearing into his jeans.

But Dean wrote these lyrics; he sat up one night and turned all his sweaty fantasies into crude poetry with a heavy guitar riff. He taught these words to Cas with a guitar balanced in his lap and a sated smile on his lips, clothes on the floor and dirty sheets hanging off the bed. And now Cas is on a stage singing the words back again, a wicked glint in his eye as he turns back to Dean. And that's clearly an invitation.

Cas has no idea what he does to people when he's performing, and it only serves to make it so much worse. There nothing quite like watching Cas with both hands curled around a microphone, his mouth so close that his lips brush against it. His hair is damp and floppy, falling into his eyes and dishevelled from being occasionally pushed back. This is Dean's life; watching Cas rise on his tiptoes when he hits a high note, bending over in ripped jeans when he has to hold it. Dean won't even deny the fantasies he's had since Cas joined the band and they started playing shows, before anything began between the two of them, but they all involved Cas' mouth around his cock.

Apparently he's still fond of those fantasies though, because watching Cas becomes a little too much for Dean. So he waits until he knows Cas is looking his way, and grinds a little into the back of his guitar. It's nothing huge and will probably go unnoticed, but Cas' eyes widen when he realises what's happening. And just the fact that Cas visibly reacts is perfect; it has heat pooling in Dean's belly and he's pushes harder against his guitar, trying to get some pressure on his half-hard dick. Cas isn't watching anymore, but Dean knows that he's still in his eye-line by the little falter in his voice.

Dean takes a few steps forward; waits for Cas take a few back, before they repeat.

They're close, Dean's fingers still push at guitar strings, and Cas is still gripping onto the mic stand and has it pointing between both of their mouths. Dean waits for a lull in the song and swings his guitar to hang around his back. And that's his cue to slot their bodies together, to start torturing Cas, grinding against him with deliberate rolls and hard thrusts. He doesn't have to wait long before he can feel the hard line of Cas' cock rubbing against his thigh, lessened only by the constricts of the skinny jeans Dean told him to buy. This is the decider of how he'll treat Cas tonight, if he's a good boy Dean will fuck him slow and thorough and take his time to get Cas trembling and out of his mind. But if Cas screws up, if he let's slip a shaky breath that's too loud or he moans in the middle of a line, then Dean gets to punish him for it. Not that Cas has any qualms about it, because Dean will only treat him rough and fuck him hard and fast into the sheets, couch, or carpet, face down and ass up.

It looks like it's heading that way tonight too, because Cas' knuckles are turning white as he grips the microphone tighter in his hand, stifling the sounds he desperately wants to make. But it's not enough; his pitch wavers and gives way to a heavy exhale of breath, then a few seconds later another moan. Cas' cheeks are pink and his hair is curling at his neck from sweat, and as much as Dean would love to see Cas lose his shit and orgasm on stage, he doesn't think they should risk it. So he lets Cas go and they get on with the show like nothing has happened. He pulls his guitar back around, and unlike Cas he can hide his boner beneath it, and they end the song with a clash of chords.

But what Dean finds the most endearing out of all of this, is that Cas is looking down sheepishly and is completely flustered, not showing off to the crowd and making some lewd remark about what just happened. He's so genuinely embarrassed that Dean just wants to pull him into a hug and kiss his burning cheeks - possibly only after screwing him in the bathroom first though.