Title: Veracity in Vegas
Author: Psammead
Summary: Dean and Cas plan a trip to Vegas for their college spring break and hijinks ensue. Sequel to "Pop, Pot and Puzzle Pieces"
Rating: NC-17
Notes/Warning: AU, Destial, Sequel to Pop, Pot and Puzzle Pieces. I really have to stop listening to Katy Perry when I'm trying to write SERIOUS homoerotic fanfiction. This is kinda a mash-up of Waking Up in Vegas by Katy and Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift, which I CANNOT listen to without thinking Destial, because, seriously. Green eyes. Sparks. Smiling. God yes.
Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, or the characters therein, I wouldn't need to write this horrible, horrible fluff. So, draw your own conclusions, I guess.
Veracity in Vegas
Dean Winchester stopped at the doorway to the bedroom he shared with his boyfriend, Castiel Davids. He sighed, and shook his head as he heard Cas singing through the closed door, appalled once again that the love of his life had such horseshit taste in music.
"'Cause we belong together now, yeah, forever united here somehow, yeah, you got a piece of me! And honestly, my life would suck without you!" The deep voice was completely unsuited for the song, and Dean had to chuckle once again the juxtaposition that was Cas, with his skinny jeans, Zeppelin posters, collection of biblical literature and obsession with dance pop.
He opened the door, and suddenly he didn't care that the music sucked. Cas was wriggling furiously, rounded ass shaking like a stripper, dark denim hugging his pale hips, hips Dean could wax absolutely poetic about for hours if no one shut him up. He was shirtless, and Dean took the opportunity to admire his flat stomach, the fine layer of dark hairs leading down the arrow of his abdomen into the jeans. Dean found a whole new level of appreciation for those insanely tight pants every time he saw the way they hugged Cas's many parts.
"My life! Would suck! Without you!" Cas finished, eyes closed, still singing into his hairbrush. Dean chuckled, and at the sound, Cas jumped, and whirled around. Seeing Dean, he grinned unashamedly, and bounced across the room, almost knocking Dean over as he leapt onto him, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist and kissing him enthusiastically.
"Hello," Cas rumbled, when they finally broke for air.
"Hello," Dean smiled back, "did you pack?"
"Yeah. I have the Cirque du Soleil and Blue Man Group tickets in my suitcase, and both your duffle and my shit is in the Impala," Cas grinned.
"Heck yes. We leave first thing in the morning."
"And now the oral sex?" Cas nipped at Dean's earlobe lightly.
"Yes, and now the oral sex." Dean closed his eyes, and made a appreciative noise in the back of his throat.
Suddenly the next song clicked on, still at full volume.
Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?
"But first, we're changing the tunes. Don't get me wrong, I love that you love shitty music, but I can't get hard while Ke$ha's blasting." Dean dumped Cas unceremoniously on the bed, and started flipping through the iPod.
"Okay, first, that's Katy Perry, not Ke$ha, and second, I have a videotape that proves you can get hard while listening to bubblegum pop, and also fuck the shit out of me in time to 'Hot 'N Cold'."
"I'd stop bringing that up if you're hoping for oral." Dean smiled, put on Zep I, and then returned to the bed. He kissed Cas's neck softly, then bit the same spot in reprimand. He kissed his way down Cas's torso inch by inch, alternating kisses and nibbles until he got to the hips he so adored. Cas moaned, and arched against his mouth, and Dean slid one hand up his thigh to stroke his ass through the denim, and kissed the hardness inside the skinny jeans. He felt it twich at the pressure, even through the thick fabric.
"Oh, yes…" Cas closed his eyes, and started to make the little whimpering noise that never failed to make Dean painfully hard, "Please, more…"
Dean popped the buttons on the jeans slowly, and once again thanked the powers that be that his boyfriend never wore underwear. Cas's dick stood out, and Cas helpfully yanked the jeans off, and scooted back on the bed to give Dean room. Dean started kissing him, this time from the knees up, and pushing Cas's legs apart. When he finally closed his mouth around Cas, the noise he made was pure need, and Dean thought again he would never get tired of watching Cas fall apart under his touch.
He nudged Cas's legs wider, and slid a gentle thumb over Cas's ass. He was still wet and open from the sex they'd had before Dean left for class, and he slid two fingers in easily, swallowing around Cas's dick as he lightly brushed his prostate. Cas bucked, moaning his name and some choice obscenities, and was coming into Dean's mouth in seconds.
"Fuck, baby. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?" Dean grinned, starting the slow process of kissing his way back up to Cas's mouth.
"I was."
"Tell me."
"After you left, I laid here, all fucked open, touching myself, thinking about how good you feel in me, how much I love it when you lick me and fuck me with your fingers."
"Did you fuck yourself?"
"I did, but I didn't come. I saved that for you. And then, I was gonna go pick up some pie, so I was getting dressed, and Kelly came on, and then you came back early, so that pretty much catches you up on my day."
Dean laughed, and nuzzled Cas's neck, "God, I love you."
"I know." Cas smiled contentedly.
They sat in the bar at the Bellagio, five days into their trip to Vegas. Dean had finally tired of losing at poker, and Cas had shopped himself into a bizarre alternate universe where he was tired of shopping.
The waitress brought them a second round, winking at Dean as she set down the shots.
"On the house, sugar," she smiled.
"Well, shucks. Thanks," Dean smiled back, and Cas stared daggers into the retreating gold spangled ass.
"Classy," Cas said, and slammed his shot, "I'll be right back." He stalked away, and it was Dean's turn to watch the retreating backside, this one covered in blue glitter.
I can't believe I'm in love with a guy who considers blue glitter jeans a reasonable outfit. This might actually be the one place he's worn them where they fit in. Damn, his ass looks fucking amazing in 'em, though, Dean smiled to himself.
Cas returned moments later with an entire bottle of whiskey.
"Woah, now we're getting serious."
Cas said nothing, but lined up five shots in a row in front of himself, and proceeded to silently do each one in quick succession without blinking.
'Holy shit, Cas, that was amazing." Dean did blink. "That was amazing. Probably a bad idea, but amazing."
"Fuck you, Dean Winchester." Cas finally spoke, eyes narrowed, voice gravelly.
"Huh, what?" Dean was confused by the venom in his boyfriend's voice.
"I see you, you know, all the time, looking at girls. I sit here, and I watch you, and I think to myself, which one is it gonna be? Which one is the one that will make you remember that you don't like boys, you like girls, and this little experiment is over?" Cas poured three more shots.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me? After the last two years, you're seriously telling me you still doubt that you're it for me?" Dean was flabbergasted.
"Come on, Dean, how could I be 'it'? I don't have breasts."
Dean looked at him in silent shock as Cas took the shots without stopping for air.
"Fuck, dude, I've had it." Dean finally said, and stood up.
"See?" Cas sneered knowingly.
Dean got down on one knee, and it was Cas's turn to gape.
Cas woke up, the sunlight finding its way through his eyelids to his brain.
Why are the lights so bright? And why am I in a strange bed? he wondered grumpily.
It was huge, and bright pink, and incredibly fluffy. His head was pounding like he'd gone ten rounds of some sort of strength dependant combat sport. He panicked for a moment, and turned, calming when he saw Dean snoring gently at his side.
What the fuck happened last night? he thought, sitting up, and then swaying a little as nausea overcame him. He ran to the bathroom, hurling the contents of his stomach into the toilet. When he stopped heaving, he noticed the silver ring on his right hand.
Why am I wearing Dean's class ring? he pondered this development, and then stood, running a cup of water and rinsing his mouth with the complimentary mouthwash. Then he met his own eyes in the mirror, and had the third of what would ultimately be around ten what the fucking fuck moments that morning.
Eyes rimmed in streaky black eyeliner stared back at him, but that wasn't unusual. The bridal veil was not a usual part of Cas's ensemble, however, and Cas bemusedly plucked it off his head. Leaving by the sink, he went back into the bedroom, where Dean still snored contentedly. There was a pile on the floor of white, sparkling chiffon and silk, as well as pink, lacy panties, high heels and what appeared to be a crumpled tuxedo.
Okay, answers needed now. He crawled onto the bed, and poked Dean in the side a hair too hard. Dean groaned, and rolled over. He groggily opened his eyes, and blinked at Cas.
"Hey there, Mr. Winchester," he smiled, and pulled Cas down for a long, sweet, probing kiss. It went on, and involved Dean's tongue delicately tracing his lower lip before plunging into his mouth, and claiming Cas. He almost forgot the need for answers, but just as he was about to lose himself in the kiss, Dean pulled back, and grinned again.
"You look fucking adorable."
"Uh… Thanks. Last night is kinda a blur. What happened? Did… Did we…"
"You don't remember? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I remember you checking out the waitress, is what I remember, then going to get a bottle of whiskey, and then waking up here."
"Well, yeah, we got married. I proposed. It was very romantic, I'm an extremely dashing fellow." Dean winked at Cas, and pulled him down against his side, "I'll fill in the blanks for you."
"Shut up, and put your money where your mouth is, Davids," Dean smiled up at Cas, green eyes crinkled with love, "You should know better. I might look, but I don't want. I flirt, that's me, but you're always who I'm gonna go home with. It's not a phase or experimenting, it's hard, deep, true, rest of my life, in fucking love with you." Dean pulled off the wide silver band that was his class ring, and held it out to Cas.
"Castiel Davids, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
"Wait, wait, wait." Cas stopped suddenly, and walked back up the aisle.
"You're not changing your mind, are you? Because that dress was NOT cheap, baby." Dean yelled, starting forward.
"No, oh fuck no, but this song is all fucking wrong. Just a second." Cas whispered in the ear of the small Asian woman operating the chapel's sound system.
If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you.
When mountains crumble to the sea, there would still be you and me.
"Oh, fuck, yes." Dean felt his heart constrict pleasantly in his chest.
Thank You by Led Zeppelin played as Cas walked down the aisle towards him, and Dean thought he was the luckiest man that ever lived.
Cas was wearing a wedding gown, complete with veil, off the shoulder satin, lace and chiffon. Yes, it was a little clownish, but everything about this night had been, from the proposal to the flamingly gay all night bridal shop entirely staffed by transsexuals, to the Elvis impersonator about to perform the ceremony. None of it mattered, though, because Dean had never been happier, never been more at peace in his life. He was going to spend the rest of his life with the most amazing person he'd ever met.
Cas reached the alter, swayed a little, charmingly smashed, and smiled at Dean, blue eyes glowing with joy.
The Elvis impersonator cleared his throat and smiled at them, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join these two dudes in holy matrimony. There ain't no cryin in this chapel, just a thing called love. Now, some say fools fall in love, but I say, true love travels on a gravel road. Now, before the fair moves on, let's get to the vows. Dean Winchester, do you take this man to be your big hunk 'o love, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, til death do you part?"
"I really do." Dean couldn't have looked away from Cas's eyes for anything in the world at that moment, even terrible Elvis themed vows.
"And do you, Castiel Davids, take this man to be your bridge over troubled water, in sickness and health, richer or poor-"
Cas cut him off. "I do."
"Then I pronounce you both kings of the whole wide world, husband and husband. Kiss him quick, kid."
Dean pulled Cas to him, tasting the champagne from the bridal shop on his lips, feeling Cas part for him, soft, pliant, and oh so willing, and he could have almost sworn it was like a romantic movie cut from their lips meeting to falling onto the bright pink bed in the honeymoon suite.
In reality, Cas lost their hotel key, and Dean had misplaced the fake id he used to check into their hotel, so it seemed only logical to go to a different hotel and get the fanciest fucking room possible.
"We seriously got married by an Elvis impersonator with a terrible sense of pun-manship?" Cas blinked at Dean, the details starting to surface in his head. He remembered drunkenly running down the hotel hallway after they failed to get into what was the wrong room anyway, and going down on Dean in the Impala while they drove to the Rio.
"Yep. It was awesome. Don't worry, we can have a family ceremony when we get back. Mom and Sammy are gonna be pissed if we don't… Do you really not remember any of it? You don't remember the sex?" Dean looked a little sad, and Cas tried really hard to remember. He glanced down at the bite marks on Dean's shoulder, and gasped as the memory hit him.
"…..it's starting to come back to me."
Cas looked at Dean, flushed beneath him, legs akimo, and took his hand away from Dean's straining cock. Dean groaned in disappointment, and thrust up towards his retreating hand.
"Don't stop. I want… Cas, keep-"
"Shhh." Cas smiled, and lowered his head, flicking his tongue over the velvety tip, caressing the slit and licking a wet line down the shaft. Dean groaned again, and put his hands on Cas's shoulders, running a thumb along Cas's cheek.
"Oh fuck..." Dean closed his eyes. Cas sucked, and moved his hand down to tug gently on Dean's balls, running his nails lightly along the seam. Dean clutched at Cas's shoulder, gasping as Cas's finger slipped under to press against the band of skin leading to his ass.
"Cas, don't stop, but uh- don't laugh, either, can you- I mean, I want-" Cas looked up at Dean with questioning eyes, unsure of what he was getting at.
"I need… Oh shit, Cas, fuck me. I want you to fuck me."
Cas did stop at that. In the two years they'd been together, Dean had never bottomed for him.
"Are you sure?"
"Fucking yes, I'm sure."
Cas grinned a wicked, gleeful grin and grabbed the lube. Taking Dean into his mouth again, he brushed a thumb gently across Dean's puckered hole, and Dean moaned, managing to thrust up against Cas's lips and down into the pressure at the same time. Cas slid the tip of his first finger into Dean, who let out an inhuman, strangled cry, and tensed up. Cas murmured a reassurance , and felt the entrance give way after a moment. He continued to apply careful suction to Dean's cock, and worked his finger further up the hot passage.
When he finally had several fingers working away and brushed Dean's prostate, Dean went wild, bucking against his hand, crying out obscenities and gasping for more.
Cas withdrew, and brushed the tip of his own cock against Dean's ass. Dean's eyes flew open, and he smiled back at Cas.
"Don't say it. I'm still fucking sure."
Cas pushed in, stopping every few seconds, feeling the tightness give way as he worked Dean's shaft. Inch by inch, he watched himself disappear into Dean's body, and the sight almost undid him.
Think of baseball. No, baseball players are hot. Think of breasts, bouncing, floppy, breasts. Don't come yet, don't come yet…. Cas thought, trying to control his hips, which wanted to go faster and harder than he thought Dean could take.
Dean arched against him, increasing the speed and depth for Cas. Dean was pulling him closer, pulling him in, and Cas couldn't tell if he was swearing or praying, but they were wild together now, like a full on thunderstorm, wet and lost to anything but the feel of sweat slick skin on sweat slick skin. Cas sunk his teeth into Dean's shoulder to keep from screaming at the intensity of it. Dean swore, and grabbed a fistful of Cas's hair, tugging his head back to nip at the curve of Cas's neck. Cas felt him spurt hot over his hand, and let himself go, too, exploding into a firework show of endless pleasure.
"Oh yeah, I remember the sex. You're fucking amazing, Dean."
"You too, baby. This was an awesome vacation."
"Yeah, it was. I'm sorry I got so jealous. I just love you, you know, and I've been scared for a long time now that I don't deserve it, that it's all just going to go away."
"It's not. I will never leave you, Cas, I love you."
"I love you, too."
The idyllically happy phase of their marriage lasted exactly six months.
"Who the fuck is she?"
"What? Jamie? She's a study buddy, for English. Cas, come on, what's the matter? I told you we'd be studying tonight."
"Yeah. Studying in close proximity on the couch, while drinking beers and playing footsie."
"What? No footsie, Cas, footsie free. What the hell, dude, I thought we were past this shit?"
"So did I, but apparently, you can't cease your fucking extracurriculars. Don't fucking lie to me, I know what I saw."
"You didn't, though, baby, come on. I don't even like Jamie like that-"
"Um, guys, I'm uh, gonna go. Sorry, Dean, see you in class."
"Fuck you, whore."
"Cas, come on, you can't talk to people like that, especially innocent people that you're acting like fucking Glenn Close in front of."
"You know what, Dean, I'm leaving, too. Fuck you. We're done."
"That's fucking great. Yeah, you slam that door, you fucking drama queen. Fuck."
Cas stormed out and went directly to the nearest bar, where he proceeded to get good and drunk. He was too many shots in when he heard a smooth voice come from the air behind him.
"Hey, there. What's a guy like you doing drinking alone?"
Cas turned, and the voice belonged to a slender man, with brown hair and dark eyes that smiled at him knowingly.
"My boyfriend's a punk ass bitch, and we're fucking done. Are you gonna buy me a drink or what?" he said cockily, and smiled back at the man.
"I guess I am. Another, for both of us, " he gestured to the bartender, and seated himself on the stool next to Cas.
"So, you're through with punk ass bitches? I think that's a good policy."
"I'm fucking done with bisexual guys who suck at lying, is what." Cas sulked, and lit a cigarette.
"Yeah, bisexual guys are bullshit. I can't stand it, it's like they're afraid that if they don't slap a tittie now and then, they might lose their right to own a penis."
Cas laughed, "True. It's my own fault for believing him, anyways."
"At least he's a shitty liar, so you didn't waste any more time with him. He probably worked late all the time and forgot your anniversary, too."
Dean hadn't done either of those things, actually, but Cas nodded anyway. "I'm Castiel," he offered.
"I'm Michael."
Hours later, they left the bar, Cas slung over Michael's shoulder.
"I need… I need to call a cab. I gotta go to a hotel…" Cas slurred.
"You can come crash at my place, if you want. I live right down the road." Michael grinned, holding up the predominant amount of Cas's weight.
"Well…. Okay, but no hanky-panky."
"None at all?"
"Really, no. I can't- we just broke up, tonight. It's really… I just can't."
"That's cool. It's cool. You can crash on the couch."
Cas woke up to someone holding him down, face pressed into a pillow, and he had no idea where he was. He felt a warmth pressing against his ass, and freaked the fuck out.
'What the hell!" he yelled, and rolled himself to the side, knocking the other man off his feet, and falling on top of him.
"Cas, calm down, it's Michael. You were-"
"I was what? The fuck, I distinctly recall telling you NO on the sex thing." Cas sprung to his feet, pulling his pants back up.
"Oh come, on, after the way you were acting all night? Everyone knows, no means maybe." Michael scrambled to his feet, and moved towards Cas.
"I'm pretty sure no means fucking no, you assbutt," Cas said, and punched Michael square in the nose, feeling a stratifying crunch under his knuckles. Michael dropped to his knees, and Cas turned on his heels and ran.
A week later, Dean sat in class, trying to focus on the lecture, and failing miserably. Rain poured outside, echoing his feelings. He hadn't seen or heard from Cas since their epic bitchfight, and his texts and calls had gone unanswered. Cas's mom hadn't heard from him either, and since Cas didn't exactly have tons of friends, Dean didn't have the foggiest notion where he might be hiding.
He jumped a little as his phone buzzed. He surreptitiously flipped it open and his heart might have actually stopped beating for a second when he saw Cas's picture flash on the screen. He opened the text, and smiled.
Drop everything now,
Meet me in the pouring rain.
Kiss me on the sidewalk,
Take away the pain.
He looked out the window again, and saw a slender figure leaning against a tree two stories below. He didn't even bother asking to go, he just left, running out the door, winging a few freshmen in his haste, and finally he burst out the doors, grinning ear to ear.
"Dean, I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot, I shouldn't-"
Dean didn't even let him finish, just grabbed him, whirled him around and kissed the fucking hell out of him, oblivious to the cold droplets pelting them both. Their faces were wet, their lips were warm and everything in their world was perfect again. When they finally parted, Cas was grinning, too.
Dean held him close against his body, fingers clutching the back of the soaking trench coat.
"Cause I see sparks fly, right?" he mumbled into Cas's hair.
"Whenever you smile," he felt the response rumble against his chest, and he knew everything was going to be all right.
The second wedding was much more extravagant than the first, months in the organizing, but extremely intimate. Everyone Dean loved was there, his parents, Sam and his girlfriend Sarah, his uncle Bobby and his wife Ellen, and their daughter Jo. A few high school friends were also in attendance, as well as Cas's mom.
Green and blue paper lanterns adorned the trees, the moon beginning to rise as they finished dinner and the band began to play.
It wasn't easy finding a Led Zeppelin cover band that would also learn Fall Out Boy songs, but ultimately, bribery worked. Dean grinned at Cas as they announced the first dance.
Dean stood, and held out his hand to Cas, green eyes still glowing as the lights dimmed.
"Well, Mr. Winchester, may I have the honor?"
"Well, I'd be delighted, Mr. Winchester," Cas grinned back, and stood. Dean led him out onto the dance floor.
"I still can't believe they make skinny jean tuxes." Dean murmured into Cas's ear.
"I can't believe you found a formal plaid vest," Cas whispered back, pressing his his body to Dean's.
"Pfft, whatever, plaid is awesome."
Cas just kept smiling as they swayed to the Rain Song, and he heard Dean sing the last few lines softly just to him.
"This is the mystery of the quotient, upon us all a little rain must fall…"
At the end of the night, after many hugs had been exchanged by all and sundry, Dean took him by the hand again, and they went upstairs together.
"Oh god, Cas, yes, right there."
"There?"
"No- yes- oh fuck-"
"Hahaha, yes."
"Fucking hell, that thing you do with your tongue-"
"Yeah."
"Yeah. I like that. That might be why I married you."
"That's bullshit, you married me for my skinny jeans."
"Those, too."