Author's Note: This is a really short oneshot, but I had to write something about this. I basically wanted to explore how Cas began to have his orgies in the end verse, and since I feel like we're heading towards that now, I feel like this could happen. Anways, only a little bit of smut. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural but I wish I could own a scene like this.
Cas was sobbing, face buried in his pillow and body shaking with gut wrenching sobs. He had tried so fucking hard this time, going so far as to pick a positively gorgeous brunette with incredible green eyes, the kind that any man would kill to have. He had had her writhing on his bed in pleasure, toes curling as he rubbed her through her panties. Hell, to be honest, it had been going really well. That is until the woman's feminine moans morphed into the deep, growling groans of none other than Dean.
Immediately, the entire scene changed. Instead of rubbing silk, pink panties, he was fondling the front of navy plaid boxers. Instead of thin, tan legs wrapped around his waist, he was trapped by a set of strong, hairy legs. The fingers tangled in his hair, the firm chest beneath him, the scent of beer and sweat- he had been here before.
That specific night was forever etched into his mind, a part of him that would never fade away. They had been in this same position on the comfortable foam mattress in Dean's room in the bunker. He remembered pushing his fingers into Dean, stretching him out and relentlessly striking his prostrate with every push. He remembered Dean's warm breath tickling his neck, his fingernails digging into his shoulders, the hunter's slick cock brushing against his bare chest as he finally sank himself into Dean. He remembered the way Dean had moaned his name as he plunged into him, his own eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of being completely sheathed in his hunter almost sending him over the edge.
Cas had reached down, wrapping his hand around Dean's cock. He began to stroke the hunter's length in time with his quick thrusts, his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his breaking point. All it took was Dean panting, "Cas, baby, please-" and he was over the edge, white flashing before his eyes before he came, filling Dean completely. 'Dean-"
"Wait, who the fuck is Dean?"
The shrill voice brought him back to reality, eyes widening in shock as he came face to face with a red-faced, furious woman who was most certainly not the man he'd just currently been in bed with.
"I-I can explain!" he cried before being forcefully shoved out of the way. The woman- fuck, he couldn't even remember her name- stood quickly, stomping her way around the room as she collected her discarded clothing and quickly dressed.
"Wow, sloppy seconds. And for some guy who's not even straight," she snarled, pulling on her jeans and making her way to the door, "fucking figures. Whatever, you're an asshole."
She sent him one final glare before slamming the door shut behind her. And with that, she was gone, Cas still sprawled on the floor with his mouth gaping open. He stared at the door for several seconds before slowly getting to his feet, managing to get to his feet and throw himself back on to the mattress.
And this is when he began sobbing. Because he knew deep down, that he would never be able to forget that night. It had been the best night of his damn life and he would never able to relive it. Dean had said it was mistake, and he had wanted to believe that, had even tried to convince himself it was true by finding every woman possible in a frantic attempt to feel that same indescribable pleasure. But who was he kidding? They were beautiful, but they weren't Dean. And they never would be.