Castiel was frustrated, frustrated with everything. Since he had fallen, and by default lost his grace, he was having trouble adjusting to human, normal life.

He didn't understand fast food, or toilets, or electricity, or computers, or the strange desires he was constantly coming across.

They happened around Dean, he realized. Only every around Dean. Or, when he thought about Dean's touch, or the very smell of Dean. Castiel mused over this new revelation, as he took a guess on what it might be. But as he was, or used to be an Angel of the Lord, this feeling was never really talked about.

However taboo it might have been, Castiel couldn't bring himself to regret what was happening to his body, but he hadn't taken the extra step to do anything about it.

It always started with a small shiver, that blossomed into fluttering in his abdomen, then he would feel blood rush lower, and his pants would become increasingly tight.

Through many experiments, Castiel decided that friction was the best course to intensify the blazing heat in his trousers. But he was yet to nervous to actually touch himself down there.

Castiel started becoming desperate, the more frequently it happened. And despite how wrong he knew it was, he reflected on a few occasions where Dean would touch himself, and bring about his own pleasure.

One time, it became to much for Castiel to handle. In the distant corners of his mind he associated the feelings with his growing attraction to Dean, and his wish to love him in the most intimate way possible.

He would jolt up in bed, his arousal pulsing and his heart thumping, images of Dean flickering in his minds eye.

One time, Castiel gave into temptation, he had fallen already, what exactly was stopping him? He forgot however, the man sleeping in the room with him, or maybe he didn't forget and simply didn't care.

He bit his lip cautiously and slid his hand down his hips and gasped softly as his hand made contact with his sensitive, pulsing skin. Without thinking he moaned aloud.

"Dean..."

The body on the motel bed across the room rolled over drowsily, and muttered "What is it?"

Castiel's eyes shot open and snatched his hand away, letting out a panicked breath, his voice raw with lust. "It is nothing. Go back to sleep."

However, Dean was awake now, and wouldn't give in so easily. "Why does your voice sound funny?"

Castiel furrowed his brows, scrunching his eyes closed hoping that he would just go back to sleep. "I do not know what you are talking about."

Soft footfalls reached Castiel's oversensitive ears and suddenly light flooded the room, and he winced.

"Cas?" Dean's voice sounded a lot closer, and Castiel reluctantly opened his eyes.

"Dean."

"Cas... Are you o-" Dean's perceptive eyes roamed Castiel's body and his voice halted as he took in the tenting of the sheets, a dead give away. He then burst out laughing.

Castiel merely glowered at him, refusing to speak due to heavy mortification.

"I would deeply appreciate it if you didn't laugh at me Dean."

Dean subsided into a quite chuckle, then composed his face. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because it never goes away!" Castiel was surprised at the whine in his tone, just as much as Dean was.

Dean stared into Castiel's eyes for a pause, then smirked and said "I can help you with that."


A/N

Well, here is my first Destiel Fic. I was going to write the smut, but ill save that for an add on chapter whenever it gets completed.

Follow me on tumblr, im peanutbutterandink (my main) and printedpassions (writing only).