Praying Hands

author's note: this is kind of in progress. The title is from a song by the same name by DEVO.

Dean was in some nameless hotel in Iowa, lounging on some lumpy bed watching tv and listening to the wind howl. It was a low thrumming moan underneath the tv chatter and quite frankly, it was a little annoying.

He took a swig from the beer next to him on the nightstand and scowled at the tv.

"The power's probably going to go out with my luck," he grumbled. And guess what? The moment he uttered those words, Dean heard a loud pop and everything went dark.

"Fucking great!"

It sounded like the wind wasn't letting up, so Dean sighed and settled back against the headboard. If Sam were here they'd probably play pranks on each other or some stupid shit but he wasn't. He'd wanted to go on a solo hunt after some ghost and Dean let him.

At the time, he thought a little time apart couldn't hurt, right? Except now, Dean was really missing his little brother. He'd only been gone for 2 days for christ sakes! After they'd ganked the Changeling in this town, Sam had found a case about 50 miles north and taken off.

So now, here Dean was, sitting in the dark listening to the wind and wallowing in his own loneliness.

At least the alcohol helped. He was only on his 3rd bottle though, and wasn't near drunk enough to feel better.

He picked up the bottle and finsihed off the rest of it in a few swallows and set it down, hard. It teetered and wobbled until it fell off the stand between the beds and landed on the floor.

"I'm destined to be alone, aren't I?" he mumbled, "Nobody wants to stay with me, not even my own brother. Not dad, not Bobby, not Lisa, not Cas, nobody."

Dean leaned over the other side of the bed and snagged another beer from the pack. He popped the cap and took a long swig.

Speaking of Cas, he'd been thinking a lot about him lately. And not in the brotherly 'I love you man' way but more like the I-want-to-fuck-your-brains-out-and-hear-you-scream way. And that made Dean feel guilty.

He was an angel of the freaking lord for fucks sake and Dean was lusting over him like some 14 year old kid with his first crush.

But, despite that thought conbstantly running through his head, Dean couldn't help but let his imagination run away with him. Castiel was a beautiful creature with those wild blue eyes and messy hair, his full lips.

He often wondered what it would be like to kiss them, what it would be like to catch Castiel off guard like that.

His cock throbbed in his jeans at the thought and Dean bit his lip. He was pretty sure it would be worth it to see his angel like that.

A warm feeling pooled in his belly and his thoughts turned from kisses to something much, much more. He imagined Castiel on his knees before him, looking up at him with those bright blue eyes, and -

That was it.

"I'm so going to hell," Dean grunted, and his hand slipped down to the button on his jeans. "Again."

He lifted his hips slightly off the bed and pushed the rough denim down his thighs. He pulled on himself a few times, letting his head drop back against the headboard with a moan.

It had been way too long since he did this last and it felt so good.

Dean closed his eyes and imagined Castiel at the foot of the bed, discarding his clothing. Fantasy!Castiel knew exactly how to undress slowly, tantalizingly, teasingly and Dean grunted, his cock pulsing in his hand.

Fluid leaked from the tip, and his thumb swept over the head, making himself shiver. Fantasty!Cas was now naked and between Dean's legs, his mouth hovering over the hunter's throbbing cock.

"Cas," Dean gasped, and he bit his lip.

He was so lost in passion however, he didn't hear the gentle flutter of wings, and feel the slight rush of air from across the room.