Chapter 1: Tainted Love

Castiel stood outside in the drizzle. The cold night air chilled his skin as the rain began to wet his trench coat. The bright neon lights of the bar flashed across his stoic face. He knew Dean was inside. He had to be. Castiel entered the bar. The scent of hard liquor was potent to Castiel's nose and loud music blasted from the speakers. He wanted to speak with Dean right away and had to walk through this… he watched as beautiful naked women slid up and down provocatively on dance poles… this den of iniquity, he decided. He held back his sigh and moved deeper inside, searching out the familiar face of Dean Winchester.

Dean felt the relief instantly. Oh God, how long had it been since he got a boner from staring at a hot chick? Too long, he decided. He had been on the road non-stop since Sam got his soul back. Sam had been a man possessed with a mission to redeem himself from all the shit he did walking around soulless. But Dean needed a break. He talked Sam into having a week off. Nothing huge was happening, such as the apocalypse or Lucy breathing down their necks. So a week off from each other and the hunt in general didn't seem like a lot to ask for. Sam disagreed about not hunting, but agreed to go their separate ways for a week.

Thank God, Dean thought, marveling over the beautiful red head who twirled around the stripper pole in front of him. Her bright red panties matched her hair, lipstick and high-heels. The newer rendition of the song "Tainted Love" by Marilyn Manson blasted, which suited Dean's mood perfectly.

The stripper bent down low, her tits bouncing and her beautiful ass right in his face. He smiled, waiting for the semi to get a little harder, waiting for that on coming tension. Nada. Nothing. He stared down at his fly and back to the hot stripper. Nothing. Alarm started to set in. What was wrong with him lately? Even watching the horrid hotel porn did nothing for an erection these days. So what the hell was wrong now? He was at a strip club! Usually it was the place for him to get it up! He began to worry, starting to feel those all too familiar feelings of misery and loneliness creep up.

Suddenly he felt someone's warm breath on his ear, "Dean." The voice was gruff and low. He would recognize that voice anywhere, at any time. A shiver ran down his spine, all the way to his toes. Dean suddenly felt the tension of a hard, nail-driving erection shoot straight up into his groin. Unable to resist, he bit down on his lower lip, eyes slipping shut for a nanosecond, savoring the long lost sensation of an actual, full-blown erection. He was alive! He rejoiced- but not for long.

"Dean…" the hoarse tone was insistent now as Castiel's warm breath made contact on Dean's sensitive neck, making his arousal twitch. Christ, he suddenly realized who gave him this boner. Dean sprang up instantly, desperately trying to cover his erection and pretend it had nothing to do with Castiel and everything to do with the stripper, which he couldn't even remember at the moment.

Castiel stared at him, his head titling sideways in that birdlike way. "What's wrong?"

Dean flushed, "Nothing." He glanced around. No one had seemed to notice this guy just appearing. "Where did you come from?"

"I came from outside. I used the front door." He stated, still staring at him with narrowed eyes.

Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed. "Right, why are you here?"

"I need to speak with you."
Panic seized Dean, killing off whatever erection he had. "Sam?"

Castiel seemed to understand what he was thinking and shook his head, "It has nothing to do with Sam. I came for you."

Dean tried not to overreact to Cas's declaration. They quickly left the bar, but not before Dean pounded down his final shot of whiskey and tipped his stripper-waitress well. The cold air felt refreshing after that sweaty hot mess of a bar. Castiel seemed relieved as well when they walked towards Dean's impala parked in the lot. Dean focused all his thoughts on the current situation, avoiding any and all thoughts related to how great Cas looked and how good he felt seeing him again.

"So, long time no see, buddy." Dean said conversationally to his favorite angel. Cas had played a pivotal role in the fight against Lucifer and saving the world from all out war and Hell, literally. But that had been a year ago, now he rarely saw Castiel anymore. He actually missed the socially awkward, nerdy little angel. And Castiel's appearance still hadn't changed. He wore the usual beige trench coat, suit and tie and of course his meat suit Jimmy Novak.

"I saw you two weeks ago," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, just trying to be friendly, Cas." Dean said bluntly. Cas's bright blue eyes were startling as ever, even at night. He seemed so refreshed and ready for battle every time he saw him. Dean felt a little jealous of the energizer bunny standing beside him.

A sudden weariness and overwhelming urge to sleep came over him. Damn, he wondered, how long has it been since he slept? He tried to recall the last full night but nothing came to him right away. And with Castiel here, it meant another long night ahead of him. He should get an energy drink or coffee, his mind drifted.

"You're tired," Castiel commented, reading his mind like he occasionally did from time to time.

Dean felt the sudden flare of annoyance. He didn't like when Cas peaked behind the curtain into his mind. It was a basic invasion of privacy. Plus he had a sickening feeling that Cas might see what really got Dean's juicies flowing, and it wasn't the sexy stripper from inside.

"Now you're upset," Cas said this time frowning.

"Wow- you can really make a bad night- worse, can't yah, Cas?"

"Forgive me. I didn't realize you were having a bad night."

He tried not to dwell on the not-so-awesome boner of the night. Maybe it was because he wasn't getting any sleep. Yeah, that has to be it, he reassured himself. Dean sighed, "So what's up, Cas? You in trouble or something?"

Castiel hesitated before answering, "No." But he looked slightly confused by his own answer.

Dean leaned against the passenger side of his Impala, looking over the hood of the car at Cas. "So you're not in trouble…?" he too felt slightly befuddled. "Do you need something?"

"No."

Dean almost let his forehead drop onto the hood in helpless aggravation towards Cas, "What, then?"

Castiel took a step back, as though retreating. "You seem tired and…" he hesitated before adding delicately, "upset. I will return to your hotel room in the morning after you have gotten you're required rest."

"Fine," Dean muttered. "Next time you pop in though, you better have a real reason, Cas. Or I'll just assume the worst, ok?"

He nodded before vanishing into thin air. Dean took a deep breath, climbed into his baby and took off. He tried not to feel guilty about shrugging Cas off. But he couldn't help it. He kept thinking about how he reacted physically to him. Getting a hard on over a dude was something he never experienced. He must be suffering from sleep deprivation, he thought. It had nothing to do with the fact that he found Castiel attractive. Because he was Dean Winchester- all girls, all the time.

The dream felt so real and erotic. Everything about it screamed hot, rough, sweaty sex. Just the kind Dean loved. He was pressing someone up against a wall when he first awoke in this stage of the dream. He had been hunting a windago a few moments before, when he was suddenly thrown into this new dream. More like wet dream. He had a raging hard on and completely naked from head to toe. His body was slick with perspiration and he was in a cheesy hotel room with this mysterious person.

His body moved on its own as he thrust his hips forward, grinding and pounding into the person he held against the wall. The person's face was blurred, only brief images stood out, dark hair, toned golden skin… Dean felt his erection move into warm, soft, slick flesh. He groaned low from the back of his throat. He felt the beginnings of a really good orgasm building, his manhood slick and tipped with precum. He felt his hands grip down over fragile wrists, pinning them over the dark haired person.

The person moaned and writhed beneath him as he pushed his heat deeper into the blurred image. He did it over and over, until he was bucking uncontrollably. He heard his name being gasped out, right when he stood on the brink of explosion. Except it sounded a hell of a lot like a man's voice… Then Dean erupted. The orgasm was mind-blowing, wave after wave of glorious sensation escaped him. Damn- it felt so good! He cried out, desperately, clinging onto the person who helped bring him to such an amazing orgasm. Their bodies' slick with sweat and his wet heat dripping down his thigh. He wanted to drop to his knees and thank the heavens for an orgasm that good.

All of a sudden he was thrown from that dream and into utter darkness. He yelled out angrily, wanting to return to that warmth and peaceful moment of sheer bliss. The rest of his dream turned hazy and dark…

Moments, or maybe hours passed when Dean finally stirred back to life with the strong scent of… a breakfast burrito? His eyes opened, foggy and disoriented. Dean was in his bed, in his hotel room and waking up to the morning light now filling his room. He even checked to make sure his steel blade was tucked safely under his pillow.

His body felt unusually warm. He vividly remembered the dream of the dark haired blur he had been fucking against a wall. It was sublime and the feeling it left behind still lingered in Dean's consciousness. When he glanced up from his bed he saw Cas, standing helplessly by the door. Dean smiled at the angel feeling rejuvenated and refreshed. The night of sleep really did pay off, he thought, cheerfully.

BTC...

**This was my first attempt at Supernatural fanfic. I hope you enjoyed my little slash awesomeness between Cas & Dean! Please comment & review! :D Thanks!**