Originally wanted to call this "Bedroom Hymns" but I think I came across another fic that already has that title. Oh well.

A/N: The next All American Boy chapter is halfway done but I kind of hit a writer's block in that area. So I'm delivering on a request for smut. Please accept this offering as a token of my apologies for the AAB update delay. Too bad I can't write smut without plot so bear with, please.

Disclaimer (for this one, it feels necessary—just in case): Got the inspiration for this when I watched a Zedd interview on YouTube. Random, right? IDK, I guess I was surprised to discover that he's kind of a supercool nerd dude. I'm not much into dubstep/electro or anything like that so forgive me. Borrowed a couple quirks from Zedd for Castiel's background character. BUT THAT'S IT. I have no intention for that person to be involved in this story beyond borrowed minor personality similarities (the "inspiration" from which something completely and only Destiel has been built). I own nothing.

Also, first time writing smut. Yikes.


Castiel woke up in his hotel suite with a massive headache.

Holy. Fuck.

This had to be one of the worst hangovers he'd ever experienced, even in his short but eventful and fast-paced career as a producer. Regretfully he got to his feet and stumbled to the bathroom for a glass of water…only to find another, rather handsome man already there, relieving himself. Castiel stared at him in confusion, not quite comprehending what was going on.

"Uh, hey." The stranger met his eyes awkwardly as he continued his business.

"Hey." Castiel remained in the doorway, shocked by how deep and gruff both of their voices sounded. Until…"Oh! Sorry!" He hastily backed out and shut the door. Staggering his way back to the bed, he nearly tripped on something. Boxers. O-kaaay…

Oh. Whoa, Nelly—Hisboxers.

That was the moment when Castiel realized he was totally naked. Oh. And so was—

Mr. McDreamy walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a laidback grin.

Castiel shrieked.

"Whoa! Easy, dude!" the man said in a panic, jolted by the scream. Castiel backed hurriedly away from the stranger and onto the bed, pulling the sheets over his morning wood.

"Who are you? What the hell happened? Why are you here?" He tried to avoid looking at the other's half-hard cock in all its glory. And sweet Jesus was it glorious.

Focus, Castiel.

The charming stranger chuckled a little uneasily. "Uh, can we—? How about we slow down and do one question at a time. Calmly."

"Just answer them," Castiel demanded.

The man's eyebrows rose at his tone of voice. "Uh, okay…Well, I'm here because I drank a little, you drank a lot, we ditched a party and you invited me to your place."

Castiel blinked rapidly.

"So you and I—we—" He gestured wildly between them. "We—you know."

"Yeah, kinda."

This really wasn't registering right now. Castiel, Geek Extraordinaire, was shocked.

"I got laid?"

The man barked a laugh at his bluntness. "Yeah, we both did," he pointed out, grinning. Castiel ignored the comment, still caught up in his bewilderment.

"Well that's new."

Ken doll's grin grew wider. "I liked it."

Castiel's head tilted as he studied the stranger. The man, Adonis, whoever and whatever he was, actually seemed kind of sweet. Castiel was surprised to discover just how glad he was that this was the person he'd brought home, and not some kinky creep. But he also felt a little ashamed and remorseful that he didn't know the guy's name, and that he had no recollection of their activities from the previous night.

Unsure of what to do next, Castiel offered to make the stranger some breakfast. The man accepted, but his eyebrows shot up as if it had never been suggested to him before. Which was probably true; Castiel didn't know much about post-coital etiquette and was more than likely going about it all wrong.

After hunting for their respective shorts and shirts (which both pleased and disappointed Castiel), they gathered around the stove in silence, with the stranger handing the ingredients to Castiel as he prepared the food. Finally, while Castiel stood uncomfortably at the pan waiting for the eggs to cook, the stranger spoke up.

"Dean," he said quietly.

"S-sorry?"

"My name. It's Dean Winchester."

Castiel shook his hand gratefully. "I'm Castiel Novak."

Dean's face split into a smile, which Castiel reciprocated. "Oh, so not Angel?"

"No, that's my stage name."

"Huh. 'T suits you."

Castiel locked eyes with Dean. I guess it does, because I'm falling hard for you, Castiel confessed in his head. He bit his lip at his internal, cheesy commentary.

I'm so glad I did not say that out loud.

The awkwardness dissipated as they continued to gaze at each other with goofy, dumbstruck smiles on their faces, freely examining the other's eye color, the long lashes, the full lips…

"The food is burning," Dean said without breaking eye contact.

"Hm…? Oh, shit!" Castiel rushed to turn off the stove, quickly digging around for plates to dump the eggs and strawberry pancakes onto. Dean giggled—the mischievous little bastard—but helped him save the food, and set up two places at the counter. They slid onto the bar stools (thighs touching to Castiel's equal terror and glee) and tucked in, keeping a surprisingly easy conversation: Castiel was in San Francisco for a couple weeks to DJ some concerts and parties, while Dean had just visited his younger brother at Stanford, and was in the Oakland area looking for a job and an apartment. The Winchesters were from Kansas, and this was the first time Dean had ever been out to California. Dean's face lit up when Castiel suggested that they go sightseeing together later that week. Or maybe even later that day, since he didn't have anything scheduled until tomorrow.

The conversation then drifted to how Castiel got his start as musician: he grew up playing the piano from a young age but, as a teenager, started listening to modern music and decided to try his hand at dubstep. He was twenty when he mixed a mash up of several Star Wars songs, which soon gained him enough popularity to become a real producer and record original songs. Dean laughed.

"No way, man! That's kind of nerdy and really adorable."

Castiel shrugged admittedly. "Somehow, it got me where I am today."

Dean grinned and nudged him with his shoulder. "I'm happy for you, Cass. I'm glad you found success doing something you love."

Castiel blushed and thanked him, but Dean wasn't listening. He had spied something over his shoulder, and hopped excitedly over to the entertainment system.

"DUDE. You brought games to your hotel?"

Castiel joined him as Dean examined the cases. "I'm actually not a huge fan of parties, that's just part of my job. Honestly, my favorite thing to do is just play videogames with my friends." Few that they are.

"You're such a geek," Dean teased. "And kind of my hero, now," he added.

Castiel grinned smugly and snatched up a game console. "I won't be when I kick your ass at Super Mario Kart!"

They landed on the couch with a bounce and probably some complaints from the people downstairs, and set up for a morning of banana peel slipping, projectile shell firing and cheating. Dean swore vengeance on Cass when he accidentally picked Princess Peach for his character instead of Mario and Castiel started the race without letting him switch; Castiel's Yoshi still kicked Dean's ass, promise or no promise.

Dean finally surrendered three hours later, when Cass proposed that they get lunch. Which reminded them that they probably needed to shower first before going out in public. Which reminded them why they needed to shower in the first place. Which made things awkward again.

After they took turns showering and Dean borrowed a clean shirt from Castiel, they left the hotel and headed toward the nearest In&Out. Since Dean had never been there before, Castiel ordered Animal Style for him and for some reason it felt comfortable again. Like their relationship was almost normal. And that scared Castiel just a little bit.

"Maybe you can get a job here? They pay decent wages for a fast food restaurant." Castiel suggested to Dean, who had been slyly checking out the Help Wanted signs in the store windows they'd passed. "Or did you have something else in mind?" Castiel added, realizing he didn't know Dean's occupation.

Dean nodded concurringly and shrugged one shoulder. "I wouldn't mind working anywhere, really. I have school loans to pay off on top of my rent so I'll probably need two jobs anyway. Thank God Sam got a free ride."

"What did you study in school?" Castiel pressed, digging for any information he could get.

"I doubled in criminology and music."

Castiel was impressed and said so, which made Dean duck his head with blush on his cheeks and a muttered, "Thanks."

"What genre do you like?"

"I studied singing mostly, and had to cover a bunch of different genres, but classic rock is my favorite. I'm not too big on dance music or whatever, no offense. Most of it doesn't really have a…you know, human quality to it."

"Not a problem," Castiel said. And it wasn't. "Everyone has their own preferences."

Dean hummed his agreement before interjecting, "Although I have to admit, that of the few electro songs that I like, most of them are yours. They aren't just a bunch of computer-generated beats for people to grind to—they actually have some emotion behind them. I like that. I think that's what music is all about."

Castiel grinned. "That is very flattering, Dean. Thank you."

"By the way I'm not saying that just to be nice or get into your pants or anything—though I guess it's too late for th—I MEAN—uh..." Dean gushed, his face becoming more and more like a cherry. "Damn it. That was awful. I shouldn't have sa—I just wanted to—"

Cass laughed as Dean planted his face in his hands with a strangled groan. "I know what you mean. And Dean, it's fine. I am flattered. That's the most genuine compliment I've received in a long time."

Dean gave him a shy smile and prompted, "Maybe we should collaborate sometime, even make a music video, just for fun. Like Avicii and Aloe Blacc, but more Dream Act and less Ralph Lauren." Castiel chuckled.

"That sounds like a marvelous idea." He studied the freckles on Dean's nose, which were only noticeable close up. He blushed when his gaze swept up to meet hazel-green eyes already staring at him, and swallowed loudly when he felt a hand on his thigh.

"Dean," Castiel breathed. The front of his jeans were starting to feel too tight.

"Yeah, Cass?"

"I have to tell you, I don't remember anything that happened last night. I'm sorry, I don't mean to hurt you—I think I had too much to drink."

Dean cut him off with a kiss. At first it was soft and sweet but it soon deepened as they forced their tongues past each other's lips. Castiel was hyper-aware of the thumb rubbing at his hip, of the hand massaging the back of his neck, the warm breath on his ear…

"Would you like me to remind you?" Dean whispered hotly against his skin.

And poor, awkward, angelic Castiel Novak said, "Jesus Fucking Christ, yes."

They practically ran back to the hotel, giggling and groping each other and exchanging kisses in the thankfully empty elevator. Dean pressed up against Castiel's back, face buried in his hair, as the latter fumbled with the key card before they tumbled into the room.

For all his previously bashful twenty-four years, Castiel thoroughly enjoyed undressing Dean, slowly and torturously.

He straddled Dean's hips on the bed, digging his knees into the mattress securely as the blonde squirmed beneath him. Castiel unbuttoned the other man's shirt, opening it enough to give him space to kiss and nibble at the smooth skin it revealed. Dean tried to unseat him but Castiel was nearly the same size as him, so he had to settle for rubbing his palms along Cass' jean-clad thighs. He gasped for air when Castiel lapped at the sheen of sweat on his neck, nipping at his pulse point and laving his tongue over the bruise.

"Caaaass…" Dean groaned against the wet muscle massaging his throat and over his Adam's apple. Damn, that tongue was criminal and they hadn't even gotten to the fun part yet. "I-I thought you were supposed to be v-virginal or something," he panted. He felt Castiel's mouth move away from its assault on his neck as he sat up straight.

"Not since last night," Cass reminded him. He pushed his hips down with an unabashed moan, grinding against Dean and sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine. Dean quickly reached up and tried to take Castiel's shirt off; Castiel didn't stop him, but instead descended upon that firm, tanned chest a second time, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the dusky pink nipples. Dean tried and failed to suppress a high-pitched whine as he fisted Castiel's wild, dark hair.

"B-but, nngh, y-y-you don't even, ah, r-remember, last (gasp), last night. Aaughh!"

Castiel tugged the hardened nubs between his teeth one at a time before kissing them gently. When he finished, he looked Dean confidently in the eye and rumbled playfully, "Either way—tonight, you're my little bitch." Dean's eyes rolled back in his head as a strong hand dexterously rubbed him through his clothes.

Castiel could feel his mind slowly escaping while he watched, dry-mouthed, as Dean bucked up against his palm. He quickly divested himself and his partner of their trousers, keeping Dean preoccupied by running his hands along the other man's taught flanks and nosing at the dark blonde trail of hair leading to the prize Castiel coveted.

If he were in his right mind, Dean would have been ashamed at the way he mewled when a moist heat suddenly enveloped him through the thin cotton layer of his boxers. He looked down to find Castiel, lying with his head in Dean's lap and mouthing enthusiastically between his thighs. Occasionally he felt a teasing swipe of tongue slip in through the slit in his pants, before moving back out to continue wetting the fabric against his skin. The blonde bucked up against that glorious heat of Castiel's mouth, chasing the delicious friction it promised. He threw his head back in ecstasy, and his hands unwittingly snaked into dark hair, massaging the back of the musician's skull and pressing it down against his hips as he rutted against it.

Castiel pushed his face further into Dean's thrusting pelvis, granting the other man those brief hints of sanity. He took the opportunity to nuzzle firmly against the hard line of Dean's cock; the scent of Dean's sex drove him into a frenzy, and he enjoyed hearing the moans and gasps emitted when he rubbed his nose and tongue against the thickness. When it seemed that Dean was drawing close to the edge, Castiel finally pulled away, chuckling at Dean's helpless pleas and whimpering. He pulled Dean's boxers down slowly, kissing the soft skin of his inner thighs but avoiding where Dean wanted him most.

Dean shivered uncontrollably when Castiel lifted up his leg and bit the sensitive skin behind the knee. He had no idea that spot could be such a turn on for him, and he was hard enough to burst as it was. When Cass had finished with both legs and planted his feet flat against the mattress, he gently nudged his temple with his knee.

"I-I wanna s-see you. A-all of you," he breathed. He eyed the man between his legs with disbelief—Cass seemed almost unaffected by his own unexpected and unbelievably erotic behavior.

"All in good time," Cass replied smugly, though his breath was labored (which relieved Dean a little). A noise that sounded like something between a shout and a moan was then torn from his lungs when Castiel took his cock between his lips and sucked. Dean grabbed the pillows behind his head, trying to keep a grasp on his sanity as Cass went to town on him like a starving man. Dean couldn't decide if he loved or hated it all.

Castiel lightly scraped his teeth along the shaft, pulling off of his lover's dick leisurely while holding his hips down. At the head he dipped the tip of his tongue into the slit, collecting the tangy essence there, before blowing a cool stream of air on it. He could sense the corded muscles of Dean's thighs clench and unclench on his shoulders, heels digging into his back. Castiel abruptly took him in again, appreciating the weight and thickness against his tongue as he went down, slowly, until the tip of Dean's cock hit the back of his throat.

"Oh God!" Dean cried, his hips bucking up involuntarily against the other's restraint. Castiel was forced to come back up when he nearly gagged, but still managed a smirk as he straightened up with a gleam in his eye.

"I am your new God now."

The little shit. But Dean could believe it. He could wholeheartedly worship and pray to a man that made him feel this good. When Cass crawled up his chest to see eye to eye, he met those red, swollen lips hungrily, pouring every ounce of his gratitude into that fervent kiss until Castiel looked a little cross-eyed when he pulled away.

"D-dean," he said, still a little dazed. "M…may I enter you?"

Dean grinned and pulled Cass in again, thrusting into that wonderful, moist cavern, licking over the musician's teeth and the roof of his mouth. After a minute or two he moved back, dragging Cass' lip between his teeth and staring into those beautiful, blue eyes.

"Hell yeah, you can have me any day."

Castiel reached over into the nightstand and grabbed his half-empty tube of lubricant (excited to use it with another person, for once), squirting some onto two fingers.

"Let me know if I need to stop."

Dean nodded at the meaningful look in those blue eyes and laid his head back against the pillow. Last night, Cass had trusted him to be gentle—it was only fair that Dean reciprocate that faith. He groaned when the first finger entered him slowly and smoothly. It felt a little weird, but surprisingly, he didn't freak out. It probably had something to do with the comforting hand he felt rubbing along the muscles of his thigh.

One finger turned to two, back and forth turned to scissoring, and eventually Dean was starting to feel pretty okay about being filled. He rasped gladly as Castiel added a third digit, stroking his inner walls until WHOA. Dean had to grab the base of his cock to keep from losing it right then and there.

"Get in. Now."

"Dean?"

"Now."

Castiel obeyed quickly, pouring more lube into his hand and applying it to his own member with a hiss. He was so hard it hurt; but as he pressed into Dean, inch by inch…now that. That was bliss and salvation to match the Second Coming of Christ.

Oh crap. He didn't want to think about coming, not yet.

"Move, damn it!" Dean groaned.

Castiel bent down and kissed him sloppily as he began to thrust forward, slowly at first but his motions soon turned desperate. He had patiently refrained from touching himself in his attention to Dean, and now he wound up tight enough to just about go mad from the amazing heat that surrounded him. He pounded into Dean earnestly, chasing his deliverance.

Dean cried out in pleasure, running his hands up and down the surprisingly muscled torso that hovered over him, digging the pads of his fingers into Castiel's back. That wonderful spot that made Dean see stars was struck again, prompting him to scrape his blunt fingernails down the expanse of skin as he moaned. "Unh! Right there, Cass—oh fuck!"

"Dean. Dean Dean Dean Dean," Castiel chanted. He couldn't last much longer.

The beautiful man below him pulled him for another kiss, aggressive yet intimate at the same time. "C'mon, Cass. Almost there. Come for me."

Castiel groaned at the command and instantly picked up the pace, clutching at Dean's hips. Less than a minute later, he felt the legs wrapped around his waist suddenly squeeze him in a breathtaking grip as Dean screamed his release with Cass' name on his lips.

"Nngh, aahh!" Dean's entire body tensed up, tightening his grip on Castiel. The pressure became too great, and Castiel came inside him buried to the hilt. He rode the aftershocks into Dean's now relaxed and pliant body, before collapsing onto him. They laid there for a while, with Castiel catching his breath against Dean's neck while the other twisted his dark curls around his fingers.

"That. Was pretty amazing." Castiel gave a weak grunt in agreement. He somewhat hoped that Dean's ass was as sore as his jaw was at that point. Not that he regretted a single moment of it. Not one bit.

"Seriously though." Dean held a goofy grin on his face. "Guess I shoulda figured that an angel could take me to Heaven."

An eye roll and a deserving smack upside the head later, Castiel finally rolled off of Dean, only to have the blonde follow suit and roll onto him. Dean propped himself up on his elbows at Castiel's sides and lazily grinned down at the other man.

"So did that jog your memory?"

Castiel stared up at him with his customary intense (Dean's translation: hot) look, but couldn't hide the pull at the corner of his lips.

"A little. But I think it might take one or two more tries for me to fully recall the events of yesterday evening."

Dean cocked an eyebrow. "Really? Well then, I think I can manage that."

Castiel huffed a laugh. He felt his eyes droop. "Later, though. For now let's sleep. I like sleep."

Dear God above, was Dean pouting?

"Oh sure, now you're all cute and cuddly and innocent again. 'Innocent' my loose-and-used ass, you sly little bastard," he said with an approving grin. "I'll admit that I've been around the block a few times, but how did you, Mr. Videogames-Are-My-Idea-of-Fun, manage to work me like a pro?"

"I find Rated M fan fiction rather educational."

Dean burst out laughing and had to a wipe a tear from his eye.

"Fine." He moved to Castiel's side but they remained pressed up against each other. "But next time I get to have my way with you, even if I have to tie you to the bed with your goddamn headphones."

Castiel sighed and settled in for a pleasant nap. "Hmm if you say so."

"I do."

"Sleep, Dean."

The night was just beginning. Anything was possible.


Did you cringe at the religious/angel innuendos? I did haha. It's terrifying how surprisingly easy it is to make sex jokes out of sacred concepts.

I'm totally going to Hell for this.

P.S. If anyone think the smut's bad, let me know in the reviews and I will gladly never attempt it ever again. (Shudder) Just thought I'd try it out. Now excuse me while I go confess my sins.