Author's Note:

After all the DallasCon stuff with Misha in a cowboy hat and all that people have been asking for cowboy AU's left and right. Someone, ChickieG, has so graciously complimented me by saying that I do AU's better than anyone. Now, while I know I am not the best I will certain take her compliment as a cue to write a short story. There will be a few chapters to this probably as I find the time to write it. But here you are chickie, my little version of Destiel cowboys.

Past high noon and the room was dead silent. Castiel picked up another glass and started to wipe it, a habit he'd gotten into after his father, if you have nothing to do at least look busy. Better for business. He looked around the bar with little interest, he wasn't even sure why he was open half the times that weren't past working hours. Of course that's when his one employee would come in, he'd pay her for her time and get his chance to relax. He didn't so much care for the busier hours of the evenings, he knew why the doors were open so early in the day – and it wasn't for the still drunken losers chilling out on their bar chairs. Castiel loved the wandering cowboy, the adventurer who'd just ride into town and need a drink no matter the time of day. He loved travellers, really. Their stories were amazing and he could get drunk off of just hearing of all the amazing things people did.

But a cowboy with a good story? That was worth a second glance, maybe even a little more than that. Cas smiled to himself, his heart pounding in his chest as he put the cup down and grabbed the next. Gorgeous, chiseled men with that walk, the one always present in a man who rode a horse for too many hours each day. It drove him mad, Cas bit at his lower lip, his mind wandering so far into the pornographic someone might attempt to throw a whole priest at him.

Rough hands trailing down his skin, touching him in ways he shouldn't want but burns for. He rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck, where he is isn't nearly the time or the place for those kinds of thoughts, he can't exactly dip into the back and take care of an oncoming problem. No, Castiel tells himself, over and over he says no but his mind is just screaming yes. He wants that cowboy from his dreams, the one that takes him out of that boring town, takes him travelling, hell, Cas would settle for being fucking kidnapped. Whatever, as long as someone somewhere had a reason for him to finally leave.

And then he heard voices outside the door, ones he didn't recognize and ones he wasn't sure belonged to old men. 'Probably merchants…' He thought miserably, he hated talking to merchants. That goddamn Crowley always had something to say, whether it was helpful or not, and he always tried to 'cure Castiel's itch' so to speak. It was enough to tide him over, he supposed, but there had to be other men in the world that wanted to do it, to touch another man. Ones that weren't as gremlin-like and a little more bowlegged.

The doors swung open and Castiel looked up out of instinct. He dropped the glass onto the counter, luckily for him it landed upright and he was able to just push it into place like he'd meant to do that. There were two of them and though Cas could scan them both over his eyes were stuck on the shorter one. A dark cowboy hat atop his head, the clothes fit the persona with several layers looking dusty, a dark brown vest on top of a button-up shirt tucked into his pants. He had the boots, worn and torn but gleaming from the metal spurs and buckles. The two walked toward the bar after giving the place a good once over and Castiel's knees nearly buckled; that walk. He had the walk, he had the legs, he- he… Castiel's brain stuttered as he stared at the beautiful green eyes coming up to meet his, the hat tipped back slightly to reveal more of a face. And damn what a pretty face. Freckles speckled across the gorgeous canvas of tanned skin and a suddenly bright, shining smile.

"Afternoon," The stranger said and Cas almost lost himself in the deep, smooth voice.

"Good afternoon," He replied, hoping no lust had seeped from his imagination into his words. "You two are new, what brings you to Pontiac?"

"Passin' through, mostly." The beautiful stranger, object of Castiel's new fantasies, pulled up the closest stool across from him and continued to grin. That was okay by Cas, if he wanted to smile it was more than a welcomed sight in that dreary place. "Whataya got?"

"The whiskey's pretty good,"

"One of those and a sarsaparilla for my brother here."

So the big one was his brother, not a lover or partner. Excellent. "Coming right up, gentlemen." He turned his back and heard a thump and an 'ow' but nothing more than that. He figured the larger one was probably angry about the drink ordered for him, not that Castiel really cared. Cowboys could drink whatever they wanted. "You two stayin' for a while?" He asked as he poured the liquor.

"Thinkin' about it, what's going on in town?" The shorter one did most of the talking, that was good, Cas liked hearing his voice. The more he heard now the more he could pretend it was being whispered in his ears later.

"Nothing new, we have a big trader coming in soon, there's our usual outlaw problem, and I heard that in a few towns over someone spotted the Winchesters, might be headed this way." Cas wasn't sure what he should all explain to them, he was hoping they'd stay for the trader at least.

"Winchesters coming this way, huh? What do you know about 'em?" That voice was starting to burn all throughout Castiel's body, he could feel it on his thighs goddamn it.

"Well last night someone told me he'd seen them a couple days back," Castiel put their drinks down and leaned a little on the counter, hoping maybe he looked good enough to try a taste. Or kidnap, whichever. "But he was pretty smashed so I'm not so sure. Regardless, there's rumour they burned a saloon down."

"Yeah," The other one spoke up this time after a sip of his drink, he sounded pretty good too, actually. Smooth, younger even. Still, up close he was kinda pretty too. Cas could go for that, but he was really itching for some stubble against his skin. "The Winchesters have a bad reputation, so I've heard anyway."

"Well they're considered the most frightening brothers on horseback, and what with Dean riding his black stallion, Impala, and Sam on his mare Chevy, they're too fast to catch. Those horses are supposedly the best ever bred, and their riders are stronger than ten men." Castiel could recount stories of the Winchester brothers all day and night if he were given the time. They were vicious, wild, they could do anything they wanted to and they did. "Though for their infamy I have never seen a picture." He lamented out loud, his intentions too deeply carved into his sleeve for them not to have noticed he was a fan.

"You like them?" The shorter one asked curiously, his tone was hard to decipher.

"Yes. I love hearing about their stories." Cas nodded quickly, hoping that maybe he had at least some sex appeal left, fanning over a strange cowboy to another strange cowboy wasn't exactly his best pick up line.

The taller one scoffed softly, "I doubt you'd find them all that interesting if you met them."

"I disagree," Castiel turned to him, "Stories are always blown out of proportion, I hear enough of them to know that. But the consistency of the Winchesters' stories are amazing, they have the best adventures and they end up in the wildest situations. I wish I could do half the things they do, or even just see it."

The shorter one raised an eyebrow at him with a half smirk, "So who are you?"

"Castiel Novak, I'm the resident barkeep. Mind if I ask who you two are?"

The two shared a look, the taller one shaking his head just in the slightest and Castiel expected a lie. But instead he had his mind blown.

"I'm Dean, this is my little brother Sam." Dean smiled at him again, pearly white teeth gleaming in the dimly lit room. Castiel could have sworn his legs were going to melt through the floor. This was Dean Winchester, this hot, thigh burning man was Dean freaking Winchester. Cas could have swooned right there, in fact he probably did.

"You're… you're kidding me." He gawked, the words barely coming out. "You two?"

"Hard to believe? You heard we were on our way this direction." Sam cocked an eyebrow at him and Cas bit his lip.

"I… It's just… you're legends. You two are unbelievable, how are you even right in front of me?" He wanted to stop talking, he really did, but what do you do when you meet an idol or a celebrity? Especially ones you fantasize about before bed? "I had no idea you two were so young, or cute, I mean not cute, I mean attractive but not in a cute way, I mean-"

"Shh," Dean put a finger to his lips and his heart nearly stopped beating. "Thank you for the compliment, Cas." Yep, it had stopped beating. Dean Winchester used his name. "So what makes you such a big fan? Most people hate us."

"I love the stories, believe it or not life as a bartender in a small town gets boring." Castiel fidgeted and picked up the bar rag to clean a little. That ought to keep his hands a bit busy.

"Why do you stay?"

"Why do I… stay?" Cas looked at him in slight confusion, like the question made no sense though it really made plenty. "Have you looked at me? I don't think I'd last a day out there."

Dean looked him over thoughtfully, eyes dragging up his form and making him feel hotter under the collar. "Yeah, I looked at ya…" He trailed off and looked Castiel in the eye again, no hint of a joke in his face. "What would you do if you could last more than a day out there?"

Cas knew he could go on for hours, it was why people in the town didn't ask him that kind of question. "Oh here we go, dreamer Cas all over again." One of the half drunk regulars pined from the corner of the bar, rolling his whole head instead of just his eyes. Castiel felt his face flush and he turned his gaze away.

Dean threw his mug at the drunk, knocking him back hard. "Shut up, you old fuck! I'm talkin' to the bartender here, not you."

Cas looked at Dean a little more earnestly, was this really the bad boy he'd heard so much about? What a kind thing for a hard-lined cowboy to do for him, especially after he'd fawned so badly over him. "I'd go on an adventure," Cas said quietly, his eyes fixed on the same old wooden bar that he'd been spending his life tending. "I'd leave my dad's stupid legacy behind me, put on the boots and the hat and just… go. I'd just go somewhere, anywhere."

Dean nodded without a word and finished off his whiskey, he put the glass down and ran his finger over the rim. "What'd you hear about the bar burning down?"

"I heard you two didn't like it much and set some dynamite." Cas furrowed his brow, "Did you really?"

"No, of course not." Dean snorted and looked over at Sam who tried to tip his hat a little further down. "There was a big fight that broke out over some money, a guy lost his cigar and we all discovered that the barkeep was keeping TNT under the floorboards."

Sam's shoulders were shaking as he tried not to laugh, "The look on your face, Dean, was so fucking funny."

"There was a weird sizzling, okay!?" Dean snapped defensively, "Your eyes bugged out too!"

"Not as bad as yours, at least I found the source of it." Sam chided playfully.

Castiel started to chuckle and both Winchesters looked at him, "Seriously?" He covered his mouth, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling up in him, "You two are the scariest cowboys in the west? The ruthless, reckless, unbeatable Winchester brothers are… actually funny?"

Dean stopped and looked at Castiel for a moment, it made him feel nervous inside but he couldn't stop giggling at them. This was not what he'd pictured, he'd imagined something terrifying, someone huge like Sam, but mean. Dark eyes, angry smiles, large hands, but these two? Yeah sure, they had some big hands but no bigger than his own. Cas wiped a tear from his eye and shook his head, "I think hearing the stories from your point of view might ruin the magic."

"Should we shut up?" Dean grinned wide and Castiel shook his head.

"No, please, I'd love to hear how things really happened." Cas leaned on the counter across from Dean, their faces so much closer but he didn't notice so much. He was in 'intrigued listening' mode, which meant getting closer to really hear them. Dean was somewhat taken aback by how easily he'd slipped into his space, but that passed and soon the cowboy started talking.

They lost time that way, Sam had been part of the conversation for most of the day but he'd gotten tired once the sky had started to change from blue to a sunset hue. Castiel gave him keys to a room upstairs and let Sam go, Dean on the other hand seemed far too interested in the bartender and their conversations to stop any time soon. And when Castiel's relief showed up, his employee took over the bar and serving drinks as she always did, he slipped across the bar and sat beside Dean instead of across from him.

"You're really sweet," Cas found himself saying after a whiskey or two of his own. Dean had only had maybe two over the course of his time in the joint but he'd started to pick up the drinking pace once Castiel joined him. "I'm surprised, I always imagined you so vicious."

"Disappointed?" Dean cocked a smirk his way and Castiel tried to will the blush out of his cheeks.

"Not at all, I'm actually impressed. You're somethin' else, Mr. Winchester."

"Don't call me that," Dean finished a third whiskey and put the glass down like he'd done each other time.

"Dean, then?"

"Well, if you wanted," Dean glanced around the room and leaned over to Castiel's ear, his breath warm and smelling of alcohol, "you could scream it, for me."

Cas' body was on fire, his mouth dry and lips parted in a soft gasp. He'd been with other men, it was a dirty, awful secret he repented for it because of the town, the smallness and confining nature of it. But Dean's very presence yearned to set it free, break him out of that cage and spread him open. Castiel wanted to, more than anything and almost enough to do it right in front of the saloon full of rough working men. But he didn't, instead Cas smiled and gently turned his head to let his lips graze past Dean's earlobe. "Make me." He growled.

Like a shot they were off, Dean grabbed him roughly by the arm and hauled him toward the back. Castiel could hear his heartbeat in his ears and it only escalated in speed the further away they were from the drinkers and townsfolk. He was certain that he'd fallen into a fantasy, that he'd drank too much, passed out and dreaming on the floor about this beautiful cowboy that swooped in and pulled him away from prying eyes. This stranger, with angel kissed skin and rough hands pushing him against a wall, Cas' legs shook and the corners of his mouth tugged up in a smile. This was heaven, and if it wasn't then he couldn't wait to get there. Or burn for the sin of enjoying another man's body, and in fact he thought it was more of a sin to not enjoy Dean Winchester's body. Because when that man threw his shirt down, all of that muscle shifting and pulling under reddened flesh from a blush, Castiel was certain it was an angel that he'd about to be handled by.

"Fuck," Dean hissed when Castiel found the courage to move again, his hips rolled forward, the front of their pants brushing and sending shivers through both of them. Cas had felt it, he could see the stretch of Dean's trousers and he wanted to see everything beneath them. He licked his lips and started attempting to unbutton his shirt, Dean reached up and tore it off him, impatient and hot and ready. Cas gasped at the touch of Dean's fingers, caressing over his chest and pinching at the hardening nubs of his nipples.

"Ohhhh Dean…" he sighed and ran his hands through the surprisingly soft mess of brown hair, knocking the cowboy hat down. He curled his bottom lip into his mouth to bite it, looking over Dean's face as that flush spread over his cheeks and darkened the lust in his eyes. He wanted to tell Dean how beautiful he looked, parted lips and panting as their bodies slid together, pants coming undone and dropping to their ankles. Cas wanted to tell him how badly he had wanted to take Dean Winchester to bed, to be pressed against a wall and slammed hard. He wanted to tell Dean how that had changed in the span of a few hours, how he wanted the sweet kisses and strong but gentle touch of a loving man. Adventure was exciting, he didn't have to be treated like a rag doll to get that kind of feeling. He could be loved, cherished and handled sweetly but also get that rush of adrenaline he wanted. He wanted to tell Dean he didn't want to be a dirty after thought. But Castiel didn't have the words, he could only whine and breathe heavier as Dean unraveled him.

Dean's hands slipped along the dip in his lower back, smoothing over the swell of his ass and giving a good squeeze. Cas lifted a leg and hooked it around Dean's waist, he could feel the warmth and stiffness of the other man's cock against his groin. It was pleasant, wanted and so long overdue. He took them both in his hand as Dean explored his body, neither of them had the presence of mind to hush themselves as the heat boiled through them. Dean's head came forward and rested on Castiel's shoulder, breath hot against the nape of his neck as they thrusted shallowly into his pumping hand.

Castiel wanted to feel more of Dean, wished that there were more intimate ways to know him than any way already invented. In his imagination he'd never gotten past the idea that this was another man, that this wasn't just some faceless person who could provide a rush of excitement and vanish in a night. Dean Winchester was soft under the persona, Castiel realized as the cowboy whimpered quietly into his skin. It was the sweetest little sound and Cas wasn't sure he'd ever forget it.

The movement got more frantic as Castiel stroked them together, his hands memorizing each ridge of Dean's cock, the pulsing vein and how he moaned a certain way when Cas twisted his wrist just in the slightest. Dean bucked up into his hand now and Castiel found the outlaw's fingers coming up to his mouth. "Get 'em wet," Dean instructed quietly and Cas couldn't resist. He reached up, gently holding Dean's wrist as he sucked the man's fingers into his mouth. It was a different taste to be sure, he liked it much better than any other man he'd ever been with and he was certain nothing could compare to Dean Winchester.

"That's it baby," Dean grunted, Cas knew he was trying to keep composure, his cock was already leaking just as the rough hand job he'd been getting. How long had this cowboy been going without the touch of another person? Cas could only guess but he was a little too busy to really get into that train of thought.

Cas moaned around Dean's fingers and let them go, "Do it," he breathed the words as Dean was already taking care of it. A hot pressure pushed at his hole and Castiel's breath hitched up into a tight squeak, "Oh! Ahhfffuck…" He found curses so easy to spill in such a sinful place, and it tasted so good on his tongue.

"You like this?" Dean goaded him on, pushing his finger in deeper and swirling it around, easing Castiel open.

"Ah… ahh-I've… I've dreamt about this." Cas heard himself saying through gasps and groans of pleasure. It burned his cheeks with embarrassment but he didn't stop talking. "I wanted you."

Dean kissed his neck, a hot, wet mark etched into his skin and fleeting. "You did?"


"How often?"

Castiel looked at him with hazy eyes, glossy and a little confused. "How often?"

"How often did you fuck yourself thinking about me?"

Cas moaned louder, he loved the way Dean talked. It was better than any fantasy he'd ever been able to make up. "Every week," he confessed in a fluster, "Almost every day."

Dean sighed heavily into his neck, leaving several little kisses on his skin. Cas shuddered and wriggled down on the second finger that entered him. It hurt but he was getting used to it. "I want you to… I want you." He could have sworn that was his begging voice.

Dean lifted his fingers free after a little bit longer and nodded, Castiel felt it was enough, he was open and ready enough. "Okay, but you'll have to slick me up. On your knees, pretty boy."

Castiel slipped down the wall immediately, his hands finding purchase in Dean's hips and holding strong as he came eye level with an impressive length. It was thick, swollen and bobbing, eagerly he took it into his mouth. Cas would like to say he was impressive and outstanding at everything he did but he was a little too excited. He choked when he tried to push it too far back and though he expected a coarse comment or slap in the head for being a turn off, Dean's hands buried into his hair and held tight. Cas sighed around the other man's dick, his tongue swirling around and trying to dampen it. He was salivating at the thought of this man's cock, tasting Dean had drool and pre-cum slipping down his chin.

Dean grunted and pulled at him, not hard or painful just a suggestion and Castiel let him go. "That's enough, that's good." Dean's words, Cas understood them as 'I'm gonna come soon.' Castiel didn't know what would happen next, how they'd do it the first time, maybe the only time he didn't know. But Dean put that worry to rest almost immediately, he took all of Castiel's weight and hefted him up against the wall. Cas could feel Dean's fingers digging into the heft of his thighs, he tried to help by wrapping his legs around the cowboy's waist. It seemed to be enough for Dean to let go with one hand, Castiel leaned back and put as much of his weight there as he could, bracing himself and waiting for the inevitable burn.

The blunt head of Dean's cock pushed at him and though Cas was tense at first he exhaled, relaxed his body like he'd done so many times before, and slipped around his fantasy's dick like a pro. They both sighed and groaned at the feeling, Castiel thought he'd lose his mind but Dean held him still, shivering and waiting for the pain to subside. "I'm gonna move," Dean whispered to him and Cas was certain his heart would melt through his ribcage. "You good?"

"Yeah," Cas replied huskily, "Yes, I'm okay." And Dean moved, his hips shifting up and rolling into him, pushing deeper and penetrating everything he thought had ever been good in the past. This was better.

"God," Dean gasped and rested his forehead against Castiel's as they slowly got used to the intimacy, "Cas, you're so fucking pretty."

Those words. It was the first time Cas had ever heard them in a sentence like that, directed at him. "You think so?" He mumbled through escaping breaths, eyes flicking up to look at speckled green.

"I'm a bad liar." Dean grinned and they both huffed a laugh, Cas felt like his legs were slipping but Dean adjusted them just fine. Something Castiel had never done on his escapades of wrong and sinful homosexual sex was the same something he didn't intend to stop doing right then; he leaned forward just a little and kissed Dean's lips. It was quick and soft and Castiel hadn't expected the outlaw's mouth to be so gentle, but it was. And Dean returned it, deepening it and prying his lips apart with the strength of a tongue Cas hadn't expected to taste.

Cas moaned into the kiss as Dean started thrusting again, hips slamming up and slapping against skin. It was a little rough but Cas didn't notice anymore, pleasure drowned out the pain and he was seeing white. His legs tightened around Dean's torso, heels digging in just the slightest, possessive way Cas could do it. He couldn't read Dean's mind but if the sounds of strangled whimpers were anything to go by the cowboy loved it too. "You're beautiful," he heard himself say and it was okay this time, because Dean had called him pretty.

Dean grinned and kissed him again, silencing his words but not his increasingly loud groans. Cas was living every dream he'd ever had right there, and he wasn't even mentally present to memorize each little thing. His mind was drunk on lust, love, and liquor. Three 'L' words to ruin his life but also make it more worth living than anything else ever could. So why let the length of time he'd spent with the other man hinder him? Why destroy the moment with a word that meant nothing more than the four letters used to spell it? Castiel loved Dean Winchester, always had even after the first story, but that didn't mean he had to say it out loud. That would be his little secret.

Dean's hips stuttered and his breath hitched, Cas could feel a hot, wet mess inside him and knew he'd been too much for the cowboy. Dean was slowly trying to catch his breath, in the meantime Cas reached for himself and tried to finish it the rest of the way, he was almost there. He moaned and jerked his hips upward, licking his lips and closing his eyes. He'd just quickly imagine something, like Dean, the way his face twisted before coming, the soft mewling noises he made, and how cute it was that Cas had outlasted him. Of course that didn't last very long, Dean pulled out of him and stuck a couple fingers inside to get a bit of lubrication from his own cum. Dean's hand, hot and slick now, wrapped around Castiel's dick and started a firm but rhythmic stroke.

Cas' forehead pinched and creased as his mouth dropped open, head pushing back against the wall. "Dean, oohhh Dean!" he cried out and didn't care who heard. What if he were run out of town for this? Maybe that was a good thing.

"That's it baby, fuck yourself in my hand." Dean's voice was low and a little choked but still so warm. Cas hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to feel that, his hips were jerking up into Dean like hadn't been touched in ages. And the last time someone else touched his dick was… when exactly? He didn't know, it was always his ass that was filled – it's not gay if you don't touch the man's dick.

Cas heard himself crying out, louder and louder, his own hands attempted to cover his mouth but they slipped. His body was holding onto that orgasm, letting drip down slowly and torturously until he was a writhing, screaming mess. Dean was so strong and patient with him, each time he came close to an edge and slipped back Dean found a new way to touch him, just slightly different but still enough to drive him crazy. His toes curled and his back arched, by now he was in Dean's lap on the floor in the hallway, face curled against the heat of Dean's abdomen.

"Fucking gorgeous," Dean breathed so softly Cas scarcely heard it, but it rang in his ears like a bell. Castiel's climax was loud at first but grew softer almost instantly. He whimpered Dean's name over and over, twitching and spazzing in Dean's arms until he was held perfectly still. Cas couldn't catch his breath for several moments, panting heavily and sweating. Dean's hand passed his face, he caught a glimpse of just how much he'd come, it looked like a lot and felt like more. His thighs were a little wet and his stomach had gotten a bit of a spray as well. Castiel felt a flush of embarrassment in his cheeks but he didn't care for very long, he looked up to see the cowboy licking his fingers like he'd just had a Thanksgiving dinner.

"Dean," he whispered again and let his head drop, exhaling heavily and just laying there. If it were a dream he never wanted to wake up from it.