A/N: Part of the Girl With One Eye 'Verse, originally started here. This fic is for skimthesurface and ubikono who requested "Dean takes Castiel out somewhere but still makes him wear a skirt and sparkly top!" and "Cas accept or gradually come to enjoy wearing woman's clothing and Dean being okay with that." respectively. I hope that you guys don't mind that I combined your requests into one. The story just kinda wrote itself and fulfilled both. :P This one is kind of a mix of the porny bits of the first piece and the strange fulffiness of the second part so I hope it works out okay. ^^' OH! And if you're interested, here are the skirt and blouse I had in mind while writing the dinner scene. I LOVE all comments, so be sure to leave some for me! They are the fuel by which I continue to live! Also, if you are interested, I am still taking requests/prompts to expand this 'verse. Just drop me a message and we can do some talking! :D Long A/N is long, but I hope the story makes up for it. XP ***EDIT*** Aaaah! I forgot links don't really work well here, if you wanna catch all the linked bits just find the story at my LJ- there's a link in my profile.
Cas blushed profusely as he swept his gaze across the high-end clothing store, most of the other patrons averting their eyes when they were caught staring. He tried to busy himself, leafing through the various items on the racks, but the skimpy articles of clothing just made him even more uncomfortable. As Dean threw yet another outfit into his arms and gestured towards the changing room with a thrust of his chin and a rough grunt Castiel could hear the quiet murmurs surrounding them. He thought that he just might protest again, but decided against it, knowing that he would just give in eventually. He stepped into one of the spacious cubicles that lined the walls and closed the door, holding on to the handle for a few seconds and taking a deep breath. The two of them had been at this for over an hour, Dean insisting that he buy "something nice" for Cas to wear to their "special evening" he had planned. He began to strip out of the cheap, comfortable clothes that he usually wore- both because of his budget and because he preferred the simplicity of them- before pulling on the many layers of clothing that Dean had picked out, meticulous about their placement because he knew all the little details were what made the outfit. He spared himself a quick glance in the mirror before opening the door and taking a few small steps out. "Quit pussy-footing around and get out here!" Dean's voice carried across the store quite easily and Cas was unsurprised when he drew the attention of the whole room.
Each of his steps are careful and slow, the sheer pink stockings that cover his feet and end a quarter of the way up his thigh making the trip across the hardwood floor significantly more treacherous than usual. He can hear the whispers all around him as he steps out from around the racks to stand before Dean, running his hands nervously over the tiered and ruffled baby pink skirt that wisps around the tops of his knees. The majority of the outfit is surprisingly comfortable- the only exception being the shimmery white blouse that scratches at his skin, already beginning to chafe. Dean lets out a low whistle, a wolfish grin breaking across his face as he walks around and around Cas several times to get the full view. Once he's satisfied, he stops directly in front of Cas and crosses his arms before making a small lifting gesture with his right hand and calmly commanding, "And the rest…?" Castiel hesitates for half a second before lifting the bottom of the skirt to reveal the intricate white garter belt clinging to his waist. This earns him several raised eyebrows (including Dean's) and far more attention to his crotch than he had ever wanted. Dean rubbed at his face for several agonizing moments before nipping Cas on the shoulder and lightly shoving him back to the dressing room with a not-so-gentle smack to his backside. "That is quite the sight, but not exactly what I'm looking for." Castiel shut the door behind himself and gazed into the mirror for a few seconds, not sure just how he felt about the whole situation before changing back into his regular clothes. "I think I'll have to go ahead and buy those anyway, there's SO many situations they could be useful for sweetheart." Dean calls over the door while Cas is still inside.
Castiel approached the hostess' podium in hurried steps, ignoring the myriad stares that follow him everywhere he goes. He's late after having to walk to the restaurant from his apartment, which is a good sixteen blocks away (thank God he'd been allowed to select a pair of flats for tonight's activities as opposed to the intimidating stilettos Dean had been favoring), and he let go of his embarrassment several cat calls ago. The ensemble that Dean had finally settled on for their evening had him aporting a happily minimalistic black skirt which came a little too short for Cas' comfort, but also had a fringe of lace around the hem that added a small measure of relief on his part. The material it was made out of was surprisingly soft and flexible, allowing a generous amount of mobility and he found himself growing strangely fond of it. Navy blue mesh stockings decorated his legs, and the color resonated throughout the outfit in the matching garter belt that held them up and the skinny tie that Dean had allowed him. The richness of it stood in stark contrast to the bright white of his blouse which stuck tightly to his slender frame and actually complimented it quite well. Ruffles on either side of the buttons broke up the over simplicity of it, and the short sleeves had a bit of a puff to them. With any other company, he would have been ashamed and overcome with embarrassment, but the way that Dean looked at him as he was directed toward their table made him flush with pride. The demon lost the battle to control the black swimming at the edges of his eyes, and he stood smoothly as Cas approached, pulling out his chair and waiting until he was seated to cross back to his own placemat. "You look…. fucking gorgeous." Dean purred as he let his fingers trail across the outside of Cas' thigh underneath the table.
Castiel couldn't keep the genuine smile that broke across his face as he unfolded the napkin over his lap, fumbling a little, unsure of the proper etiquette for a place as high scale as this, and he wondered briefly when Dean had come to hold such sway over his emotions. In all of their previous encounters, Dean had never once hinted at having such generous wealth, but now that he did it made Cas unbearably curious as to what he did with his time out of town. He took a long drink from the glass of water on the table, the condensation on the glass cooling his overheated skin a little. He was, understandably, quite nervous- never having been to a place as nice as this- and certainly never having planned on cross-dressing anywhere outside of his job. His eyes swept across the grandiose dining hall, taking in the polished mahogany, the glimmering silver, and the shining crystal that populated the open space. It was all so plush and beautiful that he couldn't keep his palms from sweating and his foot from nervously tapping on the floor. "Relax babe, it's just dinner." Dean's slow drawl usually did wonders to completely unravel his psyche, but as a thoroughly putout looking man in an expensive three piece suit stormed towards their table, demeanor clearly speaking of authority, it just set him on edge.
Dean's eyes eventually followed his own after noticing the lack of response at his attempt at reassurance. An ugly scowl marred the normally graceful features as Dean uttered a quick slew of obscenities and removed his own napkin from his lap in order to slam it against the table. Cas suddenly became engrossed with the pattern of the carpet below his feet when the man reached their table and haughtily cleared his throat. "Excuse me sir, but I'm going to have to ask your…. companion to either change into something more acceptable or leave the premises immediately." Castiel looked up momentarily to catch the manager's sneer at his state of dress and the obvious disgust in his gaze made Cas' stomach churn and mouth dry up. He had seen that exact look before- in his father's eyes when he had finally worked up the courage to come out to his family. The clashing realities made his ears ring and his vision blur. He wasn't sure exactly how long he sat, staring at the floor as Dean raged at the manager of the establishment, unable to comprehend anything happening around him. Dean's fist collided solidly with the table, making the dishes clatter and waking Cas from his stupor. His stomach dropped swiftly, and without a word he got up and ran from the restaurant as fast as his legs would carry him.
Cas sat in the dead center of his twin-sized mattress, clutching a pillow tightly to his chest- the decrepit brass frame it sat in making the bed look as fragile as he felt. Outside his range of sight, he heard a door open and slam close, the multiple locks clicking loudly a few seconds later, every noise magnified in the darkness that filled his apartment. He could hear bare feet padding across the open space and was slightly intrigued by the fact that Dean hadn't turned on the lights. He scoffed cruelly at himself for never considering that it was anyone else, but after that first night when Dean had claimed him, the ever present marks on his skin seemed to ward off all the dangerous looking people that occupied this part of town. After what seemed like an eternity Dean crossed into the light that spilled in from the window behind the bed. His knuckles were bleeding lightly, and his shirt was torn, four parallel scratches across his chest. His features betrayed no emotion, but the black of his eyes assured that whatever he was feeling, it was strong enough to bring out this side of him. He studied Cas for several long moments before moving, hefting the full-length mirror in the corner of the room to the spot where he had just been standing before stripping away his clothes slowly.
Cas averted his eyes from the reflection directly across from him and remained curled tight in his ball- a white knuckled grip on his pillow. When Dean had shed his last piece of clothing, he crawled across the bed, drawing up on his knees behind Castiel and placing his rough hands on the young man's trembling shoulders. "I'm sorry they treated you like that baby, but you understand they were the bad guys, right?" When Castiel offered no answer in return, Dean drew a deep breath while massaging Cas' shoulders with a firm grip. He was patient- always unfathomably patient in his ministrations- determined to soothe Cas' frayed nerves and tense muscles. It was several minutes before he broke pattern- one hand trailing down Cas' chest to pop the first four buttons on his blouse- the other pulling at the material so that Castiel's smooth shoulders were exposed. He began to lay dozens of wet kisses across the pale expanse of skin, one hand clutching at the underside of Cas' jaw and pulling it up carefully to expose his throat. Though it was getting harder and harder to avoid his reflection in the oblong mirror with Dean's insistent positioning and tugs, Castiel kept his eyes averted, looking everywhere but straight ahead.
Dean slowly ramped up the intensity of his attentions, sucking a light bruise into Cas' neck, nose pressed tight to the think column of muscle, letting one hand trail up and underneath the black skirt to toy with one of the straps connecting the stockings to the garter belt. Despite the situation that was clearly weighing on Cas right now, Dean could feel the beginnings of arousal stirring underneath Castiel's skin as he continued to take his time comforting his young lover. As Cas began to breath heavier and lean into his touches, Dean started pushing at him to look in the mirror a few feet away, pulling at his jaw and prodding with his head. "C'mon Cas, take a look in that mirror for me baby. Just a glance, c'mon." he continued to growl low in Castiel's ear, hitching up the skirt and letting his fingers trail along the skin it exposed. "One look, darlin'. C'mon- just one look." Inhaling deeply, Cas didn't have the strength to keep it up anymore. This was what Dean was best at, wearing you down; leading you all along the edge and then making you stare down the long fall. He caught his own eyes in the mirror- wide, an alarming shade of electric blue in the dark, and openly hurt. Dean licked and nipped at his ear, beckoning him to examine further. One of the demon's hands was fisted in his hair, holding his head high and pulled back, while the other rested high on his hip, three fingers holding his skirt high, the index stroking pleasurably at the white lace panties that were intended to make the navy garter really pop. Now that he had finally let himself give in, he couldn't stop, his eyes roaming over every inch of their intertwined bodies; the possessiveness of Dean's hold, the fresh and fading marks mapped across his skin, the disheveled wrinkle of his new clothes.
"Good, that's good. Just like that baby." Dean continued to croon softly in his ear, increasing the inherent pleasure of his movements. Cas watched his reflection detachedly, as though he were outside of his own body, his mind unwilling to link up his own rapid breathing with the heaving of the reflection's naked chest. The reflection's eyes blew open and its legs spread wide, muted moans rumbling from its throat. Dean let his hand fall from Cas' hair to clutch at his throat- certain now that he wouldn't have to force the gaze. Cas stared as the reflection had its undergarments tugged down just far enough to allow its manhood to be released and attended. The reflection writhed and danced beneath the demon's hands, sweat glistening on the marked skin, expensive clothes pulled taut against the lithe body, its expression one of wanton bliss. In that moment, the reflection was utterly beautiful to him and he unknowingly let the word fall from his lips- the first one since the incident at the restaurant. "That's right baby, beautiful. You are beautiful no matter what anyone says. And you are all mine." Dean's voice was low and wrecked and he punctuated every sentence with a harsh bite. When it all finally coalesced in his mind Castiel climaxed, knowing that he and the ethereal beauty of the reflection were one and the same.