"How can fellatio be enjoyable?"
Dean spit his beer across the table, spraying both Sam and their research.
"Uh...," Sam cleared his throat, tossing a disgruntled look at Dean as he wiped his items clean. "What, Cas?"
"Fellatio." Cas repeated. "Oral sex. I don't understand how it could be enjoyable for the giver."
Dean, recovering from the coughing fit that followed his spit-take, could do little more than stare across the table at Cas' calm demeanor.
"Where the Hell is this coming from, Cas?" He finally managed, his eyes bugging out and his brow raised in utter disbelief at the nonchalant way Cas had asked about such an intimate topic.
"I've been wondering." Cas said, as though it had been merely a simple puzzle he was trying to work out. "For a while." His gaze shifted from somewhere above the Winchesters' heads to meet Dean's eyes with a knowing look. "Ever since the pizza man..."
He said it with such gravity Dean was hard pressed not to laugh right out loud.
A long moment passed, where Cas sat with all the innocence of a child, waiting for an answer from the brothers.
"Um, well," Sam said, shifting in his seat. "It, uh..." He glanced at Dean, looking for help. He got none from his brother, who was still frozen in place. "I-I suppose different people have...different reasons..." He trailed off, lost as to what to say next.
Cas' wide, expectant eyes looked back and forth between the brothers, finally landing on the elder.
"Why do you enjoy performing it, Dean?"
Dean's eyes shot even wider.
"The Hell, Cas?! I've never sucked a dick in my life!" He shot up out of his chair, draining his beer and making a b-line for the kitchen.
Cas turned back to Sam. Eyes sad, and just a bit hurt.
"I didn't mean to imply...I simply meant..." Cas tried, tripped up over his own confusion.
"Don't take it personally, Cas," Sam said as he closed his computer. "I think I know what you meant, but Dean's masculinity is one of his most prized possessions, and…I think he may have misunderstood you."
"Sam." Cas stopped him as Sam stood to leave. "Masculinity and homosexuality are not mutually exclusive." Cas' confusion shone clearly on his face.
Sam heaved a deep sigh and gathered up his things.
"I know, Cas." He nodded to the angel as he passed. "But Dean has a bad habit of thinking that they are." He clapped Cas on the shoulder and headed for his room.
Cas watched Sam leave, then turned his gaze to the door Dean had disappeared through. Perhaps Dean just needed someone to tell him.
With a nod of determination, Cas stood and marched toward the kitchen. When he reached the door, however, his nerve waned. Dean was bustling around, making himself a sandwich, mumbling to himself under his breath. Even with his angel hearing, Cas couldn't make out the words. But he suspected he knew the sentiments behind them.
"Dean..." Cas ventured hesitantly.
When Dean held up a hand, Cas stopped, fearful of offending his friend farther.
"I get it, Cas." Dean growled. "Your 'people skills are rusty.' But..." He sighed, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Ya don't just ask a guy about...about..." He waved his hand around, "...THAT."
"But..." Cas looked utterly despondent, and his voice grew quiet. "How else am I supposed to learn?"
"Google it, man," Dean sighed. "Like normal people do."
"I did, though." Cas shifted. "I found out a great deal about how. But nothing about why."
"Why?" Dean repeated. "Why? I don't know, because...they like the feeling of being able to please somebody. Or maybe because..." He shrugged, "...there's..." Dean stopped with a sigh.
Cas moved closer to him, hanging on Dean's every word.
"Yes?" Cas prompted, his breath just a little airy.
"There's...a certain feeling of-of...power. When you are able to bring a partner to the edge that way."
"Power?" Cas urged. His wide blue eyes drinking in the man before him.
"Yeah." Dean shrugged again. He moved to the fridge, pulling out mayonnaise and mustard before tugging open a drawer to grab a butter knife. "Like...when you're...down on a girl..."
Cas couldn't help but stare at Dean's hips as he bumped the drawer shut with one, his hands now full.
"And you know she's feelin' good, ya know...?" Dean waved the knife vaguely.
"No." Cas answered, heat flushing his cheeks as his gaze dropped to the edge of the counter. After a moment of awkward silence, Cas glanced up to see a strange look on Dean's face. Cas couldn't quite read it. It looked like a cross between disbelief and disappointment. He looked down again, a sad sort of feeling settling in his gut.
"Uh, well..." Dean cleared his throat and opened the mayo, scooping some out to spread on his sandwich. "Sometimes, when a girl is really getting into it, she, uh..." Dean cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable with the whole situation. "Her legs...they, uh, they...start to shake a little." He swapped out the mayo for the mustard, shaking the bottle before opening it and squirting some on the stack of toppings. "Like, she starts to tremble, and..." He set the mustard down and closed his sandwich.
Cas waited with baited breath.
With a sigh, Dean braced both hands on the counter.
"And there's just this...feeling. Like 'I'm the one making that happen,' and it just..." Dean shook his head. "I don't know. Makes you feel...powerful, I guess."
Cas studied Dean for a moment, watching as Dean picked up his sandwich and took a large bite. He supposed he could see how that would make one feel powerful. But he still wasn't sure about it. Any of it.
"What is it, man?" Dean said around his mouthful. "You think any harder and smoke's gonna start pourin' outta your ears."
"I'm not certain." Cas answered, shaking his head slowly, his brow furrowing. "I suppose it is the sort of thing one has to experience in order to understand."
"Great." Dean said picking up his plate and passing behind Cas. With a clap to Cas' shoulder on his way by, Dean headed back to the war room. "We'll go to the bar later. It's ladies' night. See if we can't find you something tasty to try out."
Cas followed Dean back to the table and sat down across from him. He chewed the inside of his lip, unsure how to explain to Dean that that wasn't really what he was interested in. He didn't want to know about cunnilingus. He wanted to know about fellatio.
Cas fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, trying to find the right words. Dean had been so offended when Cas had misspoken earlier, inadvertently implying Dean had engaged in homosexual acts. How would he respond to Cas' desire to experience those acts himself? Would Dean end their friendship? What if he kicked Cas out of the bunker again? Where would he go?
The thought of losing Sam and Dean in his life terrified him, and Cas was near tears when Dean spoke next.
"Dude. What the hell is going on? You look like you're about two seconds away from exploding."
"I...I..."
"Spit it out, Cas." Dean pressed impatiently.
"I want to try fellatio." The words tumbled out as he met Dean's gaze, and Cas felt his eyes go wide at the sudden confession.
Dean's chewing slowed down, and he studied Cas before swallowing his mouthful.
"Okay." He nodded. "We can probably find you a girl who's up for that."
Cas heaved a sigh. He couldn't tell if Dean was being obtuse or if he was really that naive to what Cas was saying.
"No." Cas shook his head, looking back down at his hands in his lap. "That's...not what I meant." He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to meet Dean's. "I want to try PERFORMING fellatio."
Dean froze with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, his jaw hanging open. He blinked once. Twice. He didn't even notice as half his sandwich fixings slid out, landing with a splat on his plate.
"I'm sorry, what?" He lowered what was left of his sandwich back down.
"I..." Cas was suddenly unsure of himself. "I want to...try..." His voice trailed off.
Dean leaned back in his chair and spread his hands on the table.
"You..." His eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "You wanna suck a guy's dick?"
Cas could hear the edge and the disbelief in Dean's voice. It was like a punch to the gut. He couldn't look at Dean anymore. It hurt too much. Dropping his eyes once more, Cas nodded.
A long, silent moment followed.
Cas was sure time had simply stopped, and that he would be stuck in this moment for all eternity.
Finally, Dean took a deep, heaving breath.
Cas' eyes darted up to watch what his friend would do next.
Dean spread his arms wide.
"All right." He sighed, the edge still clear in his voice. "Let's go find you a guy." With that, he stood, swiping his plate up off the table. "Sammy!" Dean shouted down the hallway as he headed toward the kitchen. "Grab your coat! We're going out." He all but growled, glaring down at his sandwich.
Cas was too stunned to move. Was it possible Dean was really okay with this? After all, Cas thought, Dean was completely accepting of Charlie. Why should Cas be any different? Then again, Dean was full of double standards and contradictions.
He was still sitting there when Dean returned with Sam in tow.
"We're going out?" Sam asked. "What for? We just did a supply run two days ago."
Dean huffed another sigh and went to grab his jacket from his room. Both Sam and Cas watched him disappear down the hallway. When he was gone, Cas let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Cas?" Sam gave him a questing look. "Is...is everything okay?"
"I believe I made your brother uncomfortable." Cas sighed. "Again."
"What happened?" Sam's amusement did nothing to reassure Cas.
"I told him that I wished to try-"
"Don't!" Dean barked, pointing at Cas as he made his way back into the war room. "Don't say it." Dean leveled a quick glare in Cas' direction. "C'mon." Dean ordered. "I'm gonna need something stronger than beer for this. Let's go." He didn't check to see if the others were following him as he headed up the stairs and out of the bunker.
"What about him?" Cas asked.
"No, Cas." Dean growled. "Look at that guy, Cas. He's a total douche."
"I fail to see how feminine hygiene has anything to do with this." Cas' frustration was starting to show through. He had been pointing out different men in the bar for over two hours, and every one he had chosen, Dean had shot down.
The more frustrated Cas got, the grumpier Dean got.
Sam's amused eyes danced back and forth between the two of them.
"I meant that guy looks like a real jerk, Cas." Dean rolled his eyes.
"I thought that was a good thing." Cas looked between the brothers. "Sam calls you that all the time."
"That's because Sam's a little bitch." Dean grumbled as he tipped his beer up to his lips and downed what was left of it.
"He is not, Dean!" Cas defended. "Sam is both tall and human."
"You know what, Cas? Blow me."
A flicker of hope crossed Cas' face.
"You'd let me?"
"No- What? No, Cas!" Dean got up from the table. "Jesus! I need another drink." He headed straight for the bar, shoulders hunched and mumbling to himself.
Cas breathed a frustrated sigh.
"Hang in there, Cas." Sam patted his shoulder.
"I just don't understand why this is so difficult." Cas slumped in his seat. "Dean seems to have no problem finding sexual partners. I don't see why my finding one should be so hard."
"Cas…" Sam began. He wasn't sure how to reassure Cas without making his brother look like as much of a horn dog as he really was. "Dean doesn't…he…"
"I know, Sam." Cas sighed. "Your brother is a walking contradiction."
A moment later, Dean came back with two drinks in tall glasses and a round of beers.
"What are those?" Sam chuckled at the drinks Dean set on the table.
"Five-shot Long Islands." Dean announced, his mood slightly improved. "They're on special."
"How come you only got two?" Sam asked, wondering which of them Dean had bought them for.
"I didn't think I should drink more than two of them," Dean shrugged.
"They're both for you?" Sam's humor was quickly turning to disbelief.
"Yup." Dean passed a beer each to Cas and Sam before picking up the first of the two drinks and sucking down half of it at once.
The night progressed, and Dean's mood got incrementally better the more intoxicated he became.
Cas continued to point out possible men he might be interested in approaching, and Dean continued to find reasons why they were unacceptable. Cas had had enough, and was starting to think that Dean, for all his so-called "support," didn't want Cas to actually succeed.
"Well, the only men in this entire place you haven't found fault with are Sam and yourself, Dean!"
Sam froze. His eyes darting back and forth between his brother and his friend.
Dean's slightly glazed eyes narrowed on Cas.
"You leave Sammy outta this." He whispered, low and dangerous.
Cas glared back, but couldn't bring himself to press any farther. He turned his head, looking away from Dean and shutting down the argument.
Half an hour later, they left the bar; Dean buzzed, Sam amused, and Cas ready to smite someone. No one spoke the entire drive back to the bunker. When they arrived, they all went their separate ways. Dean headed for the kitchen, grabbed another beer, and made for his room. Sam went straight to his own room with a mumbled 'good night,' and Cas sat down in a chair in the library to spend the night sulking.
He thought back over the evening, and, the more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Why did he let Dean keep talking him out of approaching someone? What did it matter to Dean? It was Cas' life, Cas' experience. Not Dean's.
By four am, Cas had gotten himself so worked up he couldn't stand it. He got up out of his chair and stormed down the hallway toward Dean's room.
Dean woke with a start, drenched in sweat and hard as a rock.
His dream had been so vivid.
And absolutely crazy.
Cas on his knees, full lips wrapped around Dean, blue eyes staring up at him as Cas sucked and bobbed up and down his length.
"Fuck," Dean sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. How was this possible? How had his mind ever wandered to that in the first place? It must have been the Long Islands.
Dean stared down the length of his body, the sheet pooled at his hips only did so much to camouflage his arousal. Shaking his head, Dean threw the sheet back and climbed out of bed. He headed to the sink in the corner and turned on the cold water, rinsing his face.
It wasn't what his body wanted.
He pulled at his boxer briefs, trying to adjust himself and willing his erection to flag.
He couldn't believe thoughts of Cas, his best friend could do this. The image of Cas on his knees, with Dean in his mouth, flashed through his mind again, and he felt himself twitch. Dean looked down at his dick, his brow furrowed.
"Traitor," he grumbled. He peeled his sweat-soaked t-shirt off and shuffled back to bed.
A pounding on the door startled him.
Confused, he went to answer the insistent knocking.
When he opened the door, he froze.
"Cas?"
His face was hard, his jaw set, and his eyes burning.
"It wasn't up to you, Dean." Cas growled, backing Dean into his room.
"What the hell you talkin' about?" Dean tried to keep his distance, stepping away from Cas.
"It is my decision whom I choose. Not yours." Cas' deep voice rumbled through the room. "I should never have let you talk me out of choosing any one of those men."
"Cas," Dean put his hands up to keep Cas from advancing any farther.
Cas didn't stop until he was pressed up against Dean's hands. Dean could feel the pounding of Cas' heart and the heat of his body through his clothes.
"They…they weren't good enough for you, Cas." Dean shook his head. "You deserve better than any of those asshats. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm an angel of the Lord, Dean." Cas' anger was barely in check. "There is nothing any of them can do to hurt me. You should know that by now."
"Hurt comes in different forms, Cas." Dean's voice had dropped to just above a whisper. "Not all of them are physical."
Dean was trapped in the intensity of Cas' gaze. Those blue eyes, so full of passion, called the filthy image of Dean's dream back to him again, and his cock throbbed in his boxer briefs. Dean swallowed, and something in Cas' look shifted.
Something was off. Cas could tell. Dean's cheeks and bare chest were suddenly flush, and his gaze faltered for a fraction of a second. But it was long enough for Cas to pick up on. He followed the trail of where Dean's eyes had flicked. Down. Down.
As his eyes trailed slowly down the length of the body in front of him, Cas felt Dean's hands, still on his chest, twitch against him.
When his gaze finally landed on the only piece of clothing Dean had on, Cas' anger completely dissipated. He could see the firm, full outline of Dean's length pressing against the fabric. The sight made his mouth water, and for the first time, he felt a strange sensation: longing. He wanted so badly to reach out and touch Dean, feel him, taste him.
"Cas…" Dean breathed.
Cas met his gaze once more. He was confused by what he saw there. Dean looked terrified. Cas put his hands on Dean's wrists, pulling him away from his chest, and took a step closer. Cas could feel Dean's cock, hot and hard, against his thigh.
Dean's eyes went wide at the contact.
But Cas knew he couldn't. Dean didn't want him that way.
Letting go of Dean, Cas stepped back. Without a word, he turned and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Dean's legs were shaking. He moved to the bed and sat down, willing his racing heart to slow. He laid back, certain sleep would evade him for the rest of the night. His mind tripped and tumbled over what had just happened. Eventually, his eyes grew heavy once more, and he slipped into a sleep plagued with images of Cas.
When he woke around eight, Dean was certain that all of it had been a dream. His alcohol soaked brain had jumbled together strange images and feelings that certainly didn't belong to Dean. No. It was all some sort of psychological mumbo jumbo that was a result of crossed wires in his brain from those damn Long Islands. It had no basis in reality. None of it. No way.
Tossing on clean clothes, Dean headed to the kitchen, shaking off the night before. Heading to the fridge, he decided the best thing to get his hijacked mind back on track was a strong cup of coffee, an omelet and some crispy bacon.
"Hello, Dean."
The package of bacon fell from Dean's hand and he jumped at the sound of Cas' voice.
"Shit, Cas!" Dean swore. "I swear to God, I'm gonna get you a bell one of these days." He closed the fridge and turned around to face Cas. The moment his eyes landed on the angel, everything from that night came flooding back in cold, stark reality. The way Cas' lips had parted when he looked down at Dean's hard cock, the way Cas' hands felt on his wrists, the way Cas' thigh felt against his length.
It hadn't been a dream. Cas had been in his room. Cas had seen him. Cas had felt him.
Dean's head began to swim with the implications.
"Dean?" Cas took a step forward as Dean dropped his hands to the island between them. "Are you all right?"
"Fine, Cas." Dean managed, his voice steadier than he felt. He lifted a hand up to keep Cas from coming toward him. But the gesture just intensified the disorientation Dean felt. The memory of Cas' firm chest, so warm against his palm and the steady pace of his heart tore through Dean's brain. "I'm good. Promise."
Cas stood, watching Dean closely. He could tell Dean didn't want him any closer, and he wasn't surprised. After what had happened last night, after what had nearly happened last night, Cas was surprised Dean was still in the same room with him.
"Dean…"
"I already told you, Cas. I'm good."
"…About last night-"
"Nope." Dean shut him down. Shaking his head as he stood back up and moved around the kitchen to start breakfast. "Not gonna talk about it. Nothing happened. Just forget about it, Cas."
"Forget about what?" Sam asked as he wandered in, rubbing his eyes and looking for coffee.
"Last night-" Cas began.
"Cas! I said we're not gonna talk about it, damn it!"
"-I got very angry, thinking about how I let Dean talk me out of finding a sexual partner-"
"Cas." Dean warned.
"-So I went to confront him about it-"
"Cas!"
"-And I found your brother in…" Cas looked for a good way to phrase what had happened.
"I swear to God, Cas!" Dean threatened.
"A state of arousal." Cas continued, undeterred.
"For fucks sake, Cas!" Dean nearly shouted, throwing down the spatula he had just pulled out.
"You walked in on Dean's…alone time?" Clearly, Sam found amusement in the whole thing.
"Yes." Cas nodded.
"No!" Dean shouted.
"But, Dean, you were alone."
"That's not what he means, Cas!" Dean's face had turned crimson, and he was fuming. "Stop talking, Cas!"
"There was a moment of…" Cas went on, again searching for the right words.
"Damn it, Cas!"
"Tension between us."
"There's been almost seven years of that." Sam chuckled under his breath.
"What?" Cas tilted his head in confusion.
"Nothing. Go on." Sam prompted.
"Sam!" Dean growled.
"For a moment, I thought Dean would allow me to-" Cas was cut off as Dean gripped him hard by the arm and dragged him out of the kitchen. "Dean, what-?"
"I told you to keep your damn mouth shut, Cas!" Dean growled at him as they headed down the hallway toward Dean's room.
"Dean, why are you so upset? It's a natural function of the human body, and nothing to be ashamed of-"
Dean dragged him inside his bedroom and slammed the door shut. Still gripping his arm, Dean rounded on Cas and shoved a finger in his face.
"That's not the kind of shit you tell my brother, Cas!" He said through clenched teeth. "You don't talk to my brother about my dick. You got it?"
Cas was starting to get angry again.
"And you don't get to boss me around." He growled back, yanking his arm free of Dean's grip and advancing on him. "I'm not a child Dean. I realize there are things about the human world that I don't understand. But that doesn't make me an idiot. Sam is my friend, and if I want to talk to him about an experience I've had, I have every right to do so."
"Not if the experience involves my dick!"
They were pressed together, chest to chest, neither one willing to back down.
"But I haven't had any experience with your dick, Dean." Cas' voice dropped dangerously low. "And I think we both want me to."
Dean's face was full of disbelief, but words wouldn't come.
"I think you enjoyed the feel of me against you, Dean." Cas whispered, crowding closer. "I know I did."
Dean's brain had short circuited. He was certain his heart would give out soon.
His treacherous dick was filling quickly, and he knew Cas was close enough that he would feel it soon. Why was this happening? What was it about the idea of Cas, on his knees, that made Dean want? He had never, not once in his life, ever been attracted to a man.
Okay, that wasn't entirely true, strictly speaking. But Dr. Sexy, M.D. didn't count!
Dean gasped when he felt the press of Cas' palm against his growing length. Reflexively, he grabbed a hold of Cas' wrist.
"Let me, Dean." Cas whispered, his lips brushing the shell of Dean's ear.
Dean shivered at the contact. He felt himself twitch in Cas' hand.
"Yeeesss," Cas breathed against his skin. "Please, Dean."
Dean gripped his wrist harder.
"When was the last time you let someone touch you, Dean?" Cas began to stroke Dean through his clothes.
"I…I can't remember." The words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Will you let me, Dean?"
Dean's heart hammered in his chest, and his mind was nothing more than a buzzing. At Cas' question a single moment of clarity hit him, and he realized exactly what it was he wanted.
"Yes." Dean sighed. "Yes, Cas." His grip on Cas relaxed, and he felt Cas' hands reach for the button of his jeans. Dean slid his hand up to Cas' arm and closed his eyes, hoping the contact would ground him.
A moment later, Dean felt the warmth of Cas' fingers wrap around him and stroke.
Dean's head fell back at just how incredible the sure, perfect grip felt, and a moan slipped from him. He felt Cas shift, and opened his eyes to watch as Cas, never looking away from Dean's gaze, sank to his knees in front of him.
"Cas…" Dean breathed, and he was almost embarrassed at the pleading note he heard in his own voice.
Tentatively, Cas leaned forward, his tongue slipping out to lap gently at the bead of moisture gathering at the head of Dean's cock.
Dean gasped at the contact, his heart thundering in his chest. He watched, eyes wide, and mouth hanging open, as Cas slowly slid down his length. The wet, soft heat of Cas' lips and tongue were nothing short of heaven. Dean's hand clenched in the fabric of Cas' coat.
When Cas had succeeded in fitting Dean's entire length in his mouth, he swallowed around the head.
"Fuck!" Dean hissed as his hips pumped forward. He had never felt anything so amazing. No woman had ever taken him in so deep this way. None of them had ever swallowed around him the way Cas was. Dean's legs began to shake, and he gripped Cas even tighter. He couldn't look away.
Cool and confident, Cas' moves were precise and effective. He was eliciting the exact reaction from Dean that he had hoped for. It was even more beautiful than he had hoped for. Cas had never seen Dean like this, and something in him stirred. He couldn't quite pinpoint it, but whatever it was, it was strong. Cas sucked harder, working his mouth up and down the length of Dean's shaft and stroking his tongue along the vein as he went.
"Shit, Cas!" Dean groaned at the sensation. He moved one hand to hold the side of Cas' head as he bobbed along. Dean let his thumb slide down Cas' cheek until it brushed across his full, flushed lip and grazed the side of his dick. He couldn't keep his hips still, no matter how hard he tried. It had been too long, and Cas' mouth was just too perfect.
Cas reached his hands up, sliding them along Dean's thighs and circling them around to his ass, still mostly covered by his jeans. He slid the tips of his first two fingers on each hand up to Dean's bare skin and stroked across the heated flesh there.
The build for Dean was quick. Perhaps because it had been such a long time since he had gotten this kind of attention, perhaps because there was something so dirty about it being Cas: an Angel of the Lord. Whatever it was, it turned Dean on more than he ever thought possible.
"Cas," Dean pleaded, completely unashamed now. "Cas! Fuck yeah, Cas. Feels so good! Faster, Cas."
Happy to oblige, Cas gripped Dean's hips and sped his movements. His eyes slipped closed and he hummed around Dean's length, savoring the feel of him and relishing the blissful moans spilling from the man above him.
Dean's hands slid into Cas' hair and clenched down.
"Oh, god, Cas! Just like that!" Dean ground out. "Fuck, Cas! Gonna make me cum!"
Cas redoubled his efforts. He could tell they were right on the brink of something amazing. And Cas wanted it to be amazing for Dean. He wanted to make Dean cum. He had never wanted anything more in his entire existence. He closed his eyes, letting the pure sensation wash over him. Heart pounding in his chest, Cas felt his own arousal strong and needy, trapped within the confines of his clothes.
"Cas! Cas! Cas!" Dean chanted in rhythm with his hips and the angel's movements. He was so very close.
Cas felt Dean's shaft harden even more in his mouth, and Dean's words choked off. He looked up to Dean's face, unwilling to miss the moment of ecstasy as it washed through Dean. Cas never faltered in his steady pace, and opened up, willingly, to take Dean's release as it spilled from him.
It was bitter and salty, and had the flavor of Dean himself. Cas swallowed it down greedily, sucking every drop he could from Dean.
After all, he figured, it might be his only chance.
When Dean was spent, he tugged Cas up to standing. Partly to have something to hold on to in case his legs gave out, and partly to check on Cas. He gripped Cas' arms.
"Dean, I…" Cas whispered, his face mere inches from Dean's.
"Shhhh…" Dean shook his head, pulling Cas closer. He slid one hand down, across the front of Cas' suit pants, feeling his hard length trapped there.
Cas gasped, surprised at Dean's bold move, and shocked by the arousal that the contact brought.
"Has anyone ever…?" Dean whispered as he slowly undid Cas' belt.
"No," Cas sighed.
"Have you ever…?"
Cas shook his head, unable to speak as Dean's hands worked open the front of his slacks. He clutched at Dean's arms as Dean spread the fabric. Cas could feel the tremble in Dean's hands, and his heart beat faster.
Dean slid his hand inside Cas' boxers, trailing the tips of his fingers along Cas' length. He leaned closer to Cas, his lips a breath away, and swallowed down the gasp that came from him when Dean closed his hand around Cas.
Cas' grip on Dean tightened, and his head dropped to Dean's shoulder, his face turned toward Dean's neck.
The warm, wet heat of Cas' breath on his skin made Dean turn toward the source. He brushed his lips against Cas' as he began to stroke him softly.
A huff of pleasure passed Cas' lips, and Dean smiled at it. Cas had never felt this before, and Dean wanted to make sure he enjoyed it as much as possible.
With each stroke, their bodies rocked closer together. They traded breaths as Dean's hand slid up and down Cas' length until, at last, their mouths pressed together.
Cas froze, unable to breathe. He knew that, of all of the things they had done today, this one – by far – was the most intimate. He pressed closer to Dean, chasing the feel and meaning of his lips.
Dean nipped at Cas' lower lip, pulling a gasp from him, and stroked harder.
"Dean!" Cas' voice trembled, and he felt himself being pulled closer and closer to something.
"Let it happen Cas," Dean said against his mouth. "Let it happen."
Cas felt his heartbeat speed up. His legs began to shake, and his whole body grew hot. He felt Dean press forward, sealing their mouths together. When Dean's tongue prodded for entrance, Cas let him in willingly. Dean stroked faster, and Cas' whole body tightened with the feeling of something impending.
Dean clutched Cas closer with his free hand.
The head of Cas' cock grazed Dean's bare skin, and it was like he had been struck by lightning. A dizzying wave of pleasure tore through his body, and he felt himself spill into Dean's hand. He groaned at the sensations flooding him, and his knees buckled.
Dean held him close, to keep him from falling, and stroked him through his first orgasm, pressing kisses to his lips.
When Cas regained his balance, and was able to stand on his own, he noticed Dean's gaze. Cas followed it with his own, and looked down at Dean's hand, covered in the white mess of his release. He glanced up at Dean's face, expecting to see disgust or shame, or some realization that he regretted what had just happened.
Instead, Cas found a crooked smirk laced with pride.
"Nice job." Dean chuckled at him.
With a shy smile, Cas touched Dean's hand, cleaning them both instantly, and setting their clothes right.
"Well, that's handy." Dean laughed.
"I suppose it is," Cas smiled.
"Well?" Dean asked, suddenly seeming shy. "Uh…what did you think?"
Cas' smile turned sly.
"I'm not sure." He shook his head. "I may need to try it again. To be sure I understand it."
Dean threw his head back and laughed.
"I think maybe we can arrange that."