His raven hair had begun to curl and cling to the sides of his face and the nape of his neck; Dean smiled as he marvelled in the beauty of his Angel, listening intently to the long, exasperated story of how he'd been groped by a gaggle of females. A strip club, that's where he had sent him. With his younger brother gone Dean could no longer investigate two situations at once, he figured he'd take the barns and leave the strippers for Castiel. It was Hen night and Dean had somewhat hoped the male torso's might have awakened a certain something in Cas. Something Dean couldn't bring himself to explain via words. But no, he'd gotten himself entangled in the throng of women who'd mistaken him as a part of the entertainment.
"It's the trench coat." Dean exhaled, trying his best to stifle the tickling urge to release laugh caught in his throat.
Cas squinted his big blue eyes, almost in attempt to glare at the hunter, "There's nothing wrong with my attire." he told him, "Are you suggesting I dress provocatively?"
"Not unless you're wearing a tie and a thong underneath that thing." Dean regretted the words as they slipped from his lips, because, now he found himself with the racy image in his mind and a throb in his groin. There was a moment of silence which Dean broke by clearing his throat and clearing his mind of the thought, replacing it with the idea of Bobby in a red polka dot bikini.
"I am so messed up in the head." Dean Winchester thought to himself, avoiding eye contact with the angel.
"Dean?" there was a pause and the human took his time, playing with a fake ID in his hands, pretending to look indifferent, "Is that what you would like?"
Holy Jesus Christ on a bicycle Batman. Was Dean hearing correctly? "Sure, and while you are at it balance a cherry pie on your melon." He answered him rhetorically, never thinking for a second he'd go through with the idea. It was merely a joke, sprinkled with a few personal wants and desires but a joke none the less. Also, he was fairly sure he didn't know what a thong was.
"As you wish."
Castiel was gone before Dean could reply, probably offended by the shit he had just come out with. Dean had almost given up hope and brought out another bottle of whiskey before he appeared in front of him exactly as Dean had earlier described. It had appeared Cas had picked up a few tips from the strip club, of course, that was what he was supposed to be paying attention to. And he also had managed to figure out what a thong was, to Dean's surprise.
They didn't have sex that night, nor did they the next. The blue eyed beauty was too embarrassed to show face once he'd realised that it had been in fact a joke and he'd been too blinded by his eager to please Dean Winchester persona to notice. Castiel cursed himself, swore he would never understand humans and above all, one human in particular. Dean still liked to remind him of that night, when his angel lay curled up beside him in a lazy haze, post sex. Then Cas would blush and smack him over the head with the closest thing possible. Dean still hasn't forgiven him for the last, after all, a thong strap to the eye is a pretty painful ordeal.