Castiel perched on the edge of the motel room's double bed, staring into the darkness. Dean was fast asleep in the other bed and Sam was still out at the library researching a closed case that sounded nothing like a few "rouge bear" attacks to him or Dean. Castiel came with information about a new lead, but since both Winchesters were busy, he decided to wait for one of them to find him.
The room was silent and the only light was from the alarm clock informing him that is was half past two in the morning in glowing, red numbers. He continued to stare forward, trying to keep his mind on the case. However much he tried, though, he couldn't help but let his mind shift to Dean.
Castiel and Dean did have a more "profound bond" as Castiel put it, but he found that over the years he had known Dean, it wasn't simply friendship he felt for the hunter. No, it was more like . . . well, he just didn't know. Castiel couldn't pinpoint it. He wondered if it was love for a moment, but dismissed the thought. Emotions were new to him and so trying to figure out what he was feeling for his friend was like trying to find your way in a foreign country without knowing its language.
He let his eyes close for a moment as he imagined the hunter, all muscle and smirk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, then, and he couldn't help but grin to himself. Oh, what would Dean look like without his thousands of layers of clothing? Castiel let his mind wander and reminded himself that Dean was, in fact, asleep and probably wouldn't wake until morning.
An image of Dean – only wrapped in a towel and dripping wet – appeared in his mind. He had just gotten out of the shower and Castiel could swear he smelt of rain and some sort of flower. The Winchester ran a hand through his damp hair and looked towards the angel with an expression of pure mischief. Castiel gulped as Dean walked towards him, a smirk still plastered to his face, and placed his hands on Castiel's thighs, bringing their faces only a few inches apart.
"I know you've wanted me for a long time now, Cas," Dean's voice dripped with arousal as he leaned towards Castiel's ear. "And just so you know, I've been aching for you, too," His lips briefly brushed against the skin there as he spoke, making Castiel let out a shuddering breath. He pulled back, then, so that his head to where it was previously. Castiel looked with lidded eyes into the hunter's, noting how his pupils were blown wide.
Castiel, his eyes still closed in reality, let out a whimper at that thought and reached for the painful bulge straining against his pants. He began to palm himself through the clothing, letting out a soft moan every-so-often, and continued fantasizing about the older Winchester.
"Dean," Castiel practically whined, wanting nothing more than for the Dean in his daydream to make a move.
He was abruptly pulled out of his fantasy before that, though, by the shifting of blankets from the bed beside him. "Cas . . ." The hunter mumbled.
Castiel looked down at his (sleeping?) friend and watched Dean's face for any signs of consciousness. But, thankfully, Dean was still dreaming. Castiel went back to his abandoned thoughts and picked up where he left off. But before he could conjure up the scene again, he heard Dean . . . wait. Did he just seriously growl?
"Fucking- Cas, please," Dean whined, causing Castiel to leave his thoughts completely for reality. Dean moved his arms so they were parallel to the headboard and clawed at the sheets. He lifted his hips to thrust upwards and threw his head back onto the pillows. "Cas, Cas, Caaaas . . ."
Said angel's eyes grew wide at the scene before him and he couldn't help but ask himself what exactly was going through Dean's head. "Cas, come on, you son of a bitch!" Dean cried out, his hands balling into fists as he thrust a few more times into the air with an obvious bulge tenting the sheets above his hips.
Castiel's disbelief was replaced by pure curiosity, then, and he stood up, walking towards the begging man before him. Dean was chanting his name like a mantra and Castiel couldn't help but wonder if and for how long he could "help" Dean before he woke up. "Dean, I'm here. What do you need?" He asked as he sat down onto Dean's bed, his own arousal barely concealed in his voice.
"I . . . Just . . . You . . ." Dean panted out.
"Yes, Dean?" Castiel asked as he leaned into Dean's ear, letting his lips brush against the skin there as the Dean in his daydream did his.
Dean's hips shot upwards at that and he cried out Castiel's full name. When he came down from his high and his body relaxed, falling into the mattress, his breath came in short bursts and his fingers grazed the sheets once more with less force. Castiel, with that scene fresh in his mind and his own orgasm near, came with a shout not long after Dean had. Oh, the things that hunter did to him.
While Castiel was busy trying to control his own breath, he didn't notice Dean's eyes opening and his head turning towards him.
"Cas?" Dean asked, half asleep. He reached for the angel's head and rubbed slightly, tousling the dark hair there.
Castiel looked up with a bit of shock preparing for the worst. He knew Dean would be upset with him if he found out what he had just done. "Yes, Dean?"
The Winchester lifted himself so that he was lying back on his elbows and smiled. "How'd you fall out of bed so quickly? And why are you clothed?" Ah, so Dean thought he was still dreaming. Good.
"I slipped," It was a horrible lie, but the dazed Winchester took it without question.
"Well, get back on in here. I'm cold," He muttered as he scooted over to make room for the angel.
Castiel only blinked at him, not knowing if he should abscond or accept the offer. "Well, come on, then! You going to just leave me hanging, Cas?" And with that, said angel walked into the bathroom to retrieve a towel (a muffled "hey, wait!" could be heard from the main room), wet it a bit in the sink, and once back to where he was before, striped as quickly as he could and wiped off the sticky mess the recent "events" caused.
"Get out of bed for a moment, Dean," Cas demanded, knowing that waking up in the morning with that type of mess between the sheets would definitely cause a negative reaction from his beloved hunter.
"But it's cold, Cas," Dean grumbled.
Castiel, remembering that Dean thought this was a dream, mentally face palmed. He yanked back the covers in one swift motion, tugged Dean's boxers off, and cleaned Dean as quickly as he could. When he had finished, he threw the towel behind him and climbed into the warm bed. He felt an arm wrap around his torso as he covered both himself and Dean with the sheets and duvet.
Dean inched closer and let his fingers slip into Castiel's hair. "This okay?"
"Yes," Castiel agreed as he pulled the covers to his shoulders. "Very much so."
The hunter, finding that amusing, chuckled. "Then we'll have to do this more often, won't we?"
Castiel pondered that for a moment. Dean giving him permission to do even more with him than he just had made the angel's heart swell. "Yes. That sounds . . . perfect."
Snores from the man beside him came as a reply and Castiel let his eyes close as he enjoyed Dean's warmth.
Castiel's eyes fluttered open as he woke, finding himself in the same place he was the night previous. He smiled, yawned (the Winchesters mentioned that he was becoming more human with each passing day), and turned to the man laying beside him. Memories from last night flooded the angel's mind and panic set in.
What if Dean's to wake up and we're still in this position? How am I to explain this to a "ladies' man"? Castiel thought while trying to kick and push the comforter off of himself. Wait . . . Last night, if memory serves, was consensual, no? He dreamt of me and I only helped him with reaching his climax. Why am I worried about this if he feels the same way about me as I do him? And if so, why would Dean have any reason to dismiss his feelings if he-
His thoughts were put on pause by a muttering Winchester beside him. Dean raised a hand to his forehead, ran it down his face, and yawned. He sat up – pulling his arm back from where it had rested behind Castiel's head in the process – to stretch. A crack from one of the hunter's joints seemed to satisfy him and he let his arms fall to his sides. With a smile, he looked down at Castiel from his sitting position. His smile didn't last long, though, as his expression turned into that of confusion and panic.
Dean rubbed his eyes a bit, wondering if the angel in his bed was some sort of illusion. "Cas?"
It was too late to vanish now and so Castiel had only one choice: to hope that this would all play out well. "Dean?"
"What . . . What're you doing here?"
"Last night I found out a bit of information on a new lead for another case that I thought you and Sam could be put to use."
"No, Cas, I mean why are you . . . We're in bed. Together," Dean lifted up the comforter for a moment. "Naked."
"Yes, Dean."
The Winchester let the fabric fall from his grip. "And that doesn't bother you at all? Care to explain what exactly happened last-" Dean cut himself off as realization found its way onto his face. "SHIT."
"Dean, I don't see the problem here. It seemed completely consensual; correct me if I'm wrong-"
"SO THAT WAS REAL? THAT WASN'T A FUCKING DREAM?"
"Well, yes and no," Castiel toyed with the top sheet in his hand, hoping Dean wouldn't get up and leave. "I was waiting for you to wake and when you started calling my name in your dreams I became curious. So I . . . assisted you."
"YOU WHAT?"
"I didn't touch you, Dean, trust me. All I did was talk with you. It was more or less a one-sided conversation."
"Son of a bitch!" Dean turned to the angel with something Castiel couldn't identify in his eyes. "So I wasn't necessarily imagining all of that? Just the," Dean gulped and looked toward the wall. "Physical stuff?"
"Yes, Dean," Castiel finally returned his gaze to the man next to him. "I thought physical contact would be inappropriate considering your state at the time."
"Alright," His eyes moved back to Castiel's as he decided on what to say next. The moment of silence and a locked gaze between seemed like eternity. Dean ran a tentative tongue across his bottom lip. "So now you know my big secret."
"So I take it that my feelings aren't unrequited?"
Dean raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Pretty mu-" He was cut off by Castiel's chaste kiss.
"Good," Castiel grinned (for what Dean could swear was the first time in a long time) and he couldn't help but smile back. "Then that means I can do that more often, correct?"
Dean chuckled. "Only when Sammy isn't around. Don't want him knowing just ye-"
Suddenly, the door swung open and none other than Sam Winchester walked in, carrying a plastic convenience store bag and a cardboard take-away tray with two coffees. Both Castiel and Dean didn't dare make a sound as Sam bolted the door closed.
"Hey, Dean, I-" Sam's face went blank with surprise when he turned to find his brother and friend together in bed, barely covered by the blankets.
Dean weighed his options and with a "fuck it", he threw caution to the wind. "Oh, hey, Sammy! Something wrong?"
A bit of awkward silence went by until Sam cleared his throat. "Ah, no, I'm just," His shock turned into something a bit softer as he replied. "Happy for you two, I guess. I was starting to doubt that you two would say something to each other."
"Yeah, well, I guess we finally got to that, eh, Cas?" Castiel switched from Sam to Dean in time to catch the wink the elder Winchester gave him.
"Yes, Dean. I suppose we have."
"A bit off topic, but," Sam placed the cups and plastic bag onto the barely stable wooden table. "I found out some interesting things about the case last night at the library."
"Wait a second. Libraries usually close around nine or ten, right? And I'm guessing you didn't hide behind a bookcase when the librarian came around to check that everyone left. So," Dean smirked in realization. "You were somewhere else, weren't you?"
"You got me," Sam smiled back. "But I did find out some stuff. Go take a shower, get dressed, and I'll tell you about it." He pulled out the daily newspaper from the bag, sat down at the table, and reached for his cup of coffee.
"I knew it! Alright, that's a can-do." Dean leaned towards Castiel's ear for a moment and whispered something Sam couldn't hear. At that, Castiel pulled back the covers and practically ran into the bathroom. Sam raised an eyebrow and Dean laughed.
"He wasn't wearing anything, was he?" Sam deadpanned and sighed.
"A bit eager, aren't you, Cas?" Dean called, ignoring his brother, and heard the shower start.
Sam put his hands up in defeat. "I'll be in the car if you need me, Dean."
"Oh, I doubt I will anytime soon."
"Dude!"
"Alright, alright. See you in a bit," Dean pulled back the covers but didn't get up. "Oh, and Sammy?"
"Yeah, Dean?"
"If you tell anyone about this I'll drown you in acid."
"I won't utter a word to another living soul about you and Cas. You've got my word," Sam replied as he grabbed his laptop that was resting on the table and left the room.
"Dean?" He heard Castiel call from the bathroom.
"Comin', Cas!" Dean shouted as he stood up.