1. The Art of Handjobs
Girls, women, all of them from as far back as Dean could remember had always given a less than perfect handjob. It was still exciting, after all, a beautiful member of the opposite sex had their hand on your cock. Sure, you could do it better, but there is nothing fun or exciting about that, just the same old, same old.
Women always seemed to imagine the roughness, or the quick hard jerk was what could bring him around. They always gripped so tightly, needlessly.
Cas was different. He would feel the lust but his control would keep him in check. Dean was priority. If he said go slow, Cas went slow. If he moaned, Cas repeated the motion.
He assumed at first that Cas's ability came from practice on his own body, knowing how to touch himself. But he was pleased to learn he was the first and only hand to touch the angel in that way.
His thoughts on Cas's cock were forced to the back of his mind as the light touch of a finger and thumb forming a perfect circle stoked his stiffness with just the right amount of pull to tease the tip. Sometimes the soft brush of the thumb would slip across the tip causing the hunter to suck in his breath as he watched the angel work him.
His breath would become ragged as Cas held his gaze with an expression of precision on his face. The angel would knit his brows and bite his lip as he tried in vain to contain himself.
Dean didn't have to, he knew Cas would brush off any lingering desire he had once Dean had finished, but he also knew he wanted to. The hunter had urges beyond his own pleasure and seeing Cas in such a way was both pleasureful and torturous.
With the angel's bare cock in his hand he would throw all his own rules out and grip too hard; tug too fast. He understood at last how all those years of handjobs he received from a less practiced hand had happened. He knew why they couldn't wait, why patience wasn't always possible. All he wanted was to feel Cas erupt, and for him to be the cause, and he wanted it as fast as possible.
The angel didn't seem to mind. They panted in time as the other's hand brought them to an end with a shuddering thunderous release.
Sighing deeply, Dean leaned into the warmth of his angel marking him with a quick kiss. He was satisfied in every way he could think of, peaceful, if only for a moment.
2. Cas is ticklish-fluff
"Gah! No… Dean…. Please…."
"Right there, hey Cas, behind the knees? I would have pegged you for a hip or groin guy."
Dean finally lets go as the angel tries to roll away. Cas is not impressed, but he still manages to play along enough not to physically hurt the man as he could so easily do.
Straightening himself up he takes a breath and resumes his stoney expression.
"Come on, Cas, don't be grumpy. It was all in good fun, and Sam owes me twenty bucks. Burger? My treat."
"No."
"I see, well you leave me no choice."
Dean runs, hunched, shoulders ready to take the brunt of the force. Knocking the angel down, as Cas allowed, he straddles the angel. Digging his fingers deep into the back of Cas's knees, looking for the giggle he recently discovered.
The man is rewarded, so he continues to search for other spots of interest. A little poke to the ribs, under the arms, even the neck, but there are no further peals of laughter.
Sliding his hand down to the sensitive area where Cas's groin meets his thigh he curves a finger and lightly scratches.
A shrieking cackle bursts from the warrior of God as he crumples to defend himself again, pulling the man closer to his body with the motion.
There, nose to nose and filled with the simple purity of a tickle Dean can't help but press his lips to Cas's.
3. Cas finds a cat, prompt:
He isn't really much of a cat, more like a soaking wet ball of fluff that won't stop crying. The long black fur hangs down making him look tinier than his meager six pounds. Cas doesn't care, he is just the right fit for their rag tag group holed up in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. The perfect addition to even out the numbers on the species scale.
Slipping the cat into his coat to protect him from the downpour he decides Cat is better left a secret for the time being. With a little pop he obliges his new friend with a saucer of fresh milk from a little farm outside of Brussels. Ruffling the inky fur dry with a towel as he watches the little pink tongue lap up the liquid he feels the animal relax.
Cat buts his head against the angel's knee in a gesture of affection, and is rewarded with a scratch behind the ears. The purring lulls Castiel into a quiet trance-like state as the animal curls up in his lap, hand still absently stroking.
He doesn't notice Dean enter the room until he speaks abruptly.
"No, no, no, Cas, the last thing we need is one more thing to take care of."
Shaking himself, and placing his fluffy friend to the side, the angel stands, smiles and prepares to launch into all the reasons Cat should stay and all the reasons Dean won't be affected by him; but instead Sam enters the room.
"Just let him have the cat. We have more important things to do." Pulling his brother by the arm, the rage still in Dean's eyes.
He mutters for days about Cas turning into one of those crazy cat ladies who lives in a litter box, but never directly speaks to the angel about the animal in question.
Finally, the afternoon comes when Cas is nowhere to be found and not answering through repeated prayers. Sam is out on a food run and Dean finds himself alone with a beer, a television and an empty lap.
He thinks he enjoys it that way, but once he allows Cat to place himself on the hunter's right thigh he discovers he is more than happy of the company.
For weeks it goes on this way, Dean waits until he is alone and then invites the small creature to cuddle, figuring out all the right spots to gain a purr or another form of affection. He and Cat fall asleep together in front of the TV, Cat perched on his chest, keeping the draft from biting too hard.
No one mentions it to Dean when they discover his secret snuggle buddy, and no one mentions getting rid of Cat again.
4. PDA Prompt: Team Free Will
Sam is there; he is always there.
The three of them have settled into a nice routine. Cas is always the first to shower- not sleeping has its advantages. Sam and Dean tend to take turns, one packs up while the other completes his 3 S's before check out. The one to finish up gets out of packing the car, and as long as it is done just the way Dean likes, he is more than happy to go last.
Today is no different than any other, and there is no reason why the routine should change, but for some reason it does. Maybe they are all too tired to notice; maybe they are all so acclimatized to each other that it doesn't stand out as odd; maybe they just don't care anymore. Whatever the reason, they slip up.
Cas sees no shame in the naked human form, even more so when he considers his a loner. Dean has always been happy to work his physique to his advantage, so he sees no need to cover up in front of his brother and his best friend. The angel often appears refreshed from the shower in nothing more than a pair of tightey whiteys as Dean calls them. He enjoys the feeling of the warm water followed by the cool air of the room. After Sam's speechlessness at the first sight of the angel's bare flesh, he took it to at least put on the underwear as requested. Dean's boxers are plaid, just like everything else he owns, and more than a little threadbare.
Cas hands Dean his morning coffee, in exchange he receives a kiss. Dean takes a sip as he moves across to the clothes he has laid out.
Sam just stares.
Dean comes back to himself, looking over at his brother, fully clothed, switching his gaze between the two nearly naked men in front of him.
"What?"
"Nothing," Sam answers with a grin, turning back to the inventory of his duffle. Swinging it over his shoulder he heads out to the car. "'Bout time." He mutters as he shuts the door behind him.
5. Steamy Windows
The leather seat of the impala makes a strange sound, one that Dean thinks was hilarious considering the situation. "That wasn't me." Cas says, breaking contact between them. "Better not have been." Dean giggles, pulling the angel back in for another kiss. "I always seem to have the most fun with you, Cas." He leans back into the drivers seat and looks out the windshield. "As do I, Dean." Cas smiles, reaches over and rubs the hunter's thigh, slowly unzipping his fly and snaking his hand through the layers of clothing until he finds flesh. In his experience, this is the only smooth, unmarked skin on Dean's body, which only makes him want to caress it more. Dean's head rolls back and Castiel knows that's his queue. Licking his rough lips, hoping to make them softer, he leans down and glides Dean's bare cock between them. He's rewarded with a moan and a rough hand on his head. His own body responds, but this isn't about him. Castiel hums, and licks and sucks, enjoying the taste of Dean on his tongue. Suddenly his mouth is filled with Dean's juices and he finds he can't hold his own needs any longer. He swallows and pulls himself upright as quickly as possible, jerking himself free and stroking furiously until he cums all over the dashboard. Dean does not look impressed. There are few things he loves more than his car, but lucky for Cas, orgasms are one of them and all is forgiven.