"I hate this bloody desert," Castiel mumbled. It was his first night in Las Vegas. He'd cleaned the apartment, unpacked every stick of furniture he owned, stocked up on food, added a little life to the place with some new items and did all the admin that needed doing. He sat in front of his rickety, old computer and stared at it. Procrastination was the thief of time, he knew this, but he didn't do anything relating to his new job. It was partially due to shame. His dream of being a lawyer was not quite within reach.
He needed money, for reason's he didn't wanna think about, but he didn't want to give up on his dream. So he was going to work for a while as a slave, um, personal assistant. The pay was good and how hard could it be to take calls? It was daunting enough that he didn't prepare, and Castiel always prepared. He had just recently decided to live his life under a banner of avoidance.
"I'm going to drink," he announced as he got out of the chair. He didn't have a TV and his radio was broken. There had not been another soul in his apartment since the moving van had left and he felt the need to hear the sound of his own voice at least. Castiel had been living alone since he was seventeen. He was used to loneliness but today, well today was his first night in a strange new place.
He was from Walden County and Vegas was... Vegas. There was a bar across the street from his apartment. Why not? Castiel thought as he grabbed his keys and walked out of his door for the first time in six hours. He was dressed in a black pair of skinny jeans with a pale blue v-neck t-shirt. It was warm out. Castiel sat at the bar and ordered a vodka tonic. He was starting work tomorrow. It wasn't exactly a night for tequila.
There was some stupid sports event on the tv so the bar started to fill. Great! Castiel thought. He made his move to leave as the fans of whatever started to get rowdy. Unfortunately the idiots were blocking his way. He couldn't even get down from his chair. The jackass behind him was being particularly difficult, basically pressing Castiel into the bar.
"Hey," Castiel called without turning around, "If you want to rub up against me how about you buy me a drink first."
"Another vodka tonic for the lady," the slight southern drawl sounded surprisingly sober. Castiel bit his lip. He had a weakness for southern accents.
"You know what they say about a lady in the street," Castiel flirted.
"Well I'm a caveman and if you continue to talk like that I'll throw you over my shoulder and tie you to my bed," Dean said huskily over his shoulder. Castiel felt the firm, muscled flesh against his back.
Castiel leaned into Dean and rasped, "I live across the street."
Dean got this a lot. He pushed back into the crowd to let Castiel down from his perch. The boy watched his feet as he got down and turned, making it that much more dramatic when he levelled his gaze. Dean had never seen so much blue and Castiel had not come across that shade of green.
"Are you coming?" Castiel brushed his lips against Dean's ear. The older man turned and followed the recent college graduate through the mess of bodies. He checked out the young man's ass when they were outside. Castiel lithely crossed the street.
"You really do live across the street," Dean chuckled. In his experience 'across the street' meant 'six blocks away' and 'around the corner' meant 'across town'. At least when he said those things that's what they meant.
"That's not all, I might even let you tie me to the bed," Castiel pushed his ass out a little as he pulled his keys from his pocket. It was unnecessary. Dean was already checking him out.
"What's your name bad boy?" Dean asked as they walked into the apartment.
"Castiel," the lights flickered on.
"You can tell me your real name," Dean laid his hands on the younger man's hips, "I won't stalk you," he kissed below Castiel's ear, "And if I wanted to a fake name wouldn't help you," he ran his tongue along the pale man's collar bone, making him shiver, "I know where you live."
The husky southern drawl of Dean's voice and his skilled mouth had Castiel breathing heavily already. "Are you going to fuck me at some point or did I pick up a tease?" Castiel pressed into Dean but made no move to touch him. Strong arms went around Castiel and he was pulled into a kiss. Dean couldn't resist a foul mouth, especially one this pretty. Just like that the frenzy started. Castiel cast his t-shirt off and attacked Dean's shirt buttons. Dean hands were drawn to Castiel's smooth, milky skin. He dragged the back of his hand up the shorter man's front. Castiel was defined without being muscular and slight without being skinny. And he was smooth, Dean's eyes fell closed.
Castiel got impatient with Dean's buttons, the way the man was touching him! He ripped the shirt open. Who wore an honest to God shirt to bar anyway? Their lips and bodies connected, hands roamed, Castiel was pushed up against a wall and his ass was groped.
"Take off your pants," Castiel panted, tired of Dean's teasing. As soon as Dean's hands went to his belt Castiel started hurriedly on his jeans. Shoes were kicked off as the two stumbled towards the couch. Dean pressed the softer body into the couch. Only when they were naked did it dawn on Castiel that he did not have condoms.
"Uh, hey," he pushed at the hard muscles, "Do you have rubbers?"
"You're joking," Dean propped himself up on his elbows.
"I wish," Castiel wrapped his hand around Dean's girth. Dean bucked into the hot palm. "Touch me," Castiel's voice dropped an octave, making Dean twitch. Dean gripped Castiel and stroked. Castiel slicked pre-come down the impressive length in his hand and his bedmate followed suit. They moaned into each other's mouths as they climbed the walls of ecstasy and fell over the edge together, vocally. Dean grabbed the closest piece of fabric and wiped their stomachs. "I just washed that," Castiel said breathlessly.
"I'll make it up to you," Dean bit Castiel's earlobe. The younger man pressed himself into Dean unconsciously. "Now let's stock up your fun box," Dean smirked.
"If you would get off me..." Castiel hinted. Dean made a small sound of complaint as he lost contact with the warm body. They dressed in a hurry, hand jobs were just so damn frustrating sometimes.
"What's your name?" Dean asked again.
"Castiel," he was getting annoyed, not at Dean specifically, his name had this effect on many people.
"Were your parents high when they named you?" Dean chortled.
"I wouldn't know," Castiel shrugged, "Grew up in a home for boys."
"And he said it with a straight face," Dean shook his head, "You are either really well adjusted or incredibly messed up."
"I don't have a car," Castiel shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Mine is parked across the street," Dean opened the door.
"What's your name?" Castiel followed him out.
"Glad you asked. I don't respond well to 'hey you'," the Winchester smirk came out to play, "Dean."
"Nice to meet you Dean," Castiel looked up at him from under his lashes. He had trusted tools too. Dean's jaw dropped. He led the way to his car in silence, not seeing the self-satisfied smile behind him. "This is your car?" Castiel asked when Dean opened the driver's side door. The smirk returned.
"I wanna spend the weekend in a room with it," Castiel ran his hand across the top and closed his eyes. Dean didn't know whether this was a play for him or genuine, overwhelming enthusiasm.
"Get in the damn car you perv," Dean was a little annoyed. He wasn't usually the one left in the dust, guessing. It was something of a turn on though. "Bars usually have condoms," the thought occurred to him.
"Can I sit in the car while you get a few?" Castiel was practically bouncing. Dean threw the keys at him and went inside. Castiel sat inside the car, smelled the leather, ran his hand across the dash. A smile skirted his lips when saw the cassette player. Dean got into the car next to him.
"Do you want to do it in here?" he touched Castiel's thigh.
"I don't know her well enough for that," his hand was swatted away, "Race you across the street," Castiel jumped out of the car.
"You are so juvenile," Dean got out and rolled his eyes.
"Perhaps," Castiel conceded, "But I'm also double-jointed in the most interesting places."
"Go," Dean started running.
"Hey, not fair," Castiel laughed as he ran across the street after Dean, passed him and laughed some more as he opened the door, "You know you're old when you cheat and still lose."
"I didn't run across the street to win a race I did it for naked gymnastics," Dean pushed Castiel inside and closed the door.
"Sure, wanna get drunk?" Castiel brought out his stash of whiskey.
"You're going to impair your judgement with a stranger in your house?" Dean circled Castiel.
"You're not going to force yourself on me, there's nothing to steal, I'm an organ donar and we all have to die someday," Castiel turned and faced Dean, imprisoned him in his blue gaze. Castiel opened the whiskey bottle, opened Dean's mouth and poured the burning liquid down his throat. As Dean savoured the burn Castiel poured some whiskey into his own mouth. Dean distracted him with a kiss and snatched the bottle away.
"Open your mouth," he ran his finger across the pale man's plump lip. Castiel opened his mouth with a little whine. Dean drew him close and poured the whiskey into his mouth, watched him swallow then took a swig. The bottle was passed back and forth, clothes were shed, bodies got closer, warmer. Castiel took off his pants and sat on the table. Dean stood between his legs, feeling him up, licking his nipple, biting it. Castiel had his hands on the table. He caressed Dean with his feet.
The warmth of the liquor had spread over their bodies. The intoxication had spread through their minds. Dean pushed his pants down with one hand and pulled Castiel's boxers off with the other. He slicked up his fingers and inserted them into Castiel's entrance slowly, making him mewl. Castiel laid back on the table basking in the pleasure. "Are you ready?" Dean asked when he'd gotten his fingers buried to the knuckles. He was really horny.
"Yeah," Castiel lifted his leg to Dean's shoulder. Dean fumbled in his pockets for a condom, not an easy task since they were at his knees, and rolled it on. A guttural groan ripped through the air and echoed as Dean penetrated Castiel in one swift motion. Once he was buried to the hilt Castiel sat up and put his other leg on Dean's chest. He grabbed onto Dean's biceps and the older man placed his hands on Castiel's torso.
Dean bit his lip painfully to stem the other sensations. Castiel's legs went by either side of Dean face and yet the younger man's own face was a few inches from Dean's, allowing him to go in deep. Just as Dean started to move Castiel pulled his ace out. Every time Dean pulled out he leaned back only to sit up as he thrust in causing the head of the muscled man's shaft to stroke Castiel's firm, hot wall.
"Good God," Dean dug his fingers into Castiel flesh, moving faster. He thrust higher up, hitting a small bundle of nerves inside the younger man.
"Yes," Castiel encouraged. They continued in this fashion until Castiel clenched around Dean, screaming profanities, causing the man inside him to spill warm fluid into the waiting latex. Castiel fell back onto the table and winced as Dean pulled out of him.
"Don't use my tablecloth," Castiel said with his eyes closed.
"Too late," Dean wiped the last of their shed semen, lay on top of the warm body and put the young man's legs around his waist.
"You were raised by a pack of mutant wolves," Castiel said into Dean's hair.
"The only reason you're getting away with mouthing off is that you have rubber for bones," Dean nuzzled.
"Get off me you ape," Castiel pushed Dean upright, "I'm hungry," he walked naked to the kitchen. Dean stomped off his pants and followed lazily, watching the bruises form on delicate, pale skin. "Stop staring at my ass."
"Cover it up," Dean scoffed, "No, that wouldn't work either. Got bacon?"
"In the fridge, grab me a burger," Castiel pulled out a pan and set it on the stove.
"Can I watch?" Dean set the bacon and the burgers on the counter, "There's something erotic about a young man cooking in the nude."
"You're an ass," Castiel sighed. He found Dean charming despite himself. He felt every look like a caress on his bare flesh. Dean got up and leaned on the counter, giving Castiel full view of his once again swollen member. Castiel pretended not to notice but his penis wasn't as adept in the art of stealth. "I'm hungry," he tried to reason with it. Unfortunately for him the male sex organ was not famous for its reasoning abilities.
"Come here," Castiel gave in. Dean went willingly. He didn't expect to be pushed to his knees but he didn't fight it. The smaller man was stronger than he looked. Dean slid one of the condoms he'd brought with him down Castiel's twitching cock then looked up at him as he took his shaft into his mouth. Castiel's head fell back with a deep moan as his hand fisted in Dean's short hair. Anchoring the man he was servicing with one hand he cupped his balls with the other. Like Dean thought Castiel bucked roughly into his mouth. "Dean," Castiel cried out as he hit the back of the other man's throat. Dean sucked harder and tugged gently on the scrotum. Castiel's hand flitted across the stove top but he didn't feel anything, engrossed as he was in the tight heat of Dean's mouth. He gripped Dean's shoulder as he came. It took a while for him to register the other man's yelp of pain.
"You burned me," Dean got to his feet.
"What?" Castiel looked at Dean's upper arm. A yellow glove was stuck where he'd grabbed him. Being distracted near a hot surface was clearly not the best idea. Dean pulled the glove off, leaving a stencil of Castiel's hand where the skin came off. "Oh God we have to take you to the ER," Castiel ran to get some clothes on and brought Dean's. He came back to find him running cold water over the burn. Castiel helped Dean into his pants, because he wouldn't come away from the steady stream of cool water, but the stubborn bastard refused to put anything on his upper body.
"Dean, let's go," Castiel said after tying his shoes.
"I have to say," Dean wiped the water that was running down his forearm, "This is a first for me."
"You are minus your epidermis. I certainly hope so," Castiel dragged him out. They argued about who should drive. Castiel had never met such an absurd man! Dean drove till they agreed the pain was making him a hazard. Castiel asked Dean to direct him because he had no idea where he was going. All this made for a lot of yelling, which exposed how inebriated they both were. The impala was abandoned in a garage and a cab was hailed. But wait, the night got better. The emergency room was packed so they had to wait, seeing as they were non-emergent. They were fun to look at for everybody else though. After what felt like forever Dean was attended to.
The awkward question of how the burn came to be was answered with the shamelessness only alcohol could grant. Ten minutes before five Dean's wound was dressed and he was sent home with a pound of pills. "Where are you going?" Castiel asked when Dean did not seem to be taking his own direction.
"I'm pretty sure my phone is at your place," Dean explained. They found the cab they'd taken to the hospital but it would not stop for them, empty as it was, because they'd been a pain in the ass. A loud pain in the ass. One stopped eventually. Dean, who had received some morphine, was going on about how hot Castiel was in bed and laughing at the pun each time he said the sentence. Castiel reminded him that they'd been nowhere near a bed. Dean just laughed louder. He ended up sleeping over. If you call three hours sleep. He woke to Castiel's panicked rambling. Castiel was supposed to be at work by eight o'clock not getting out of bed. This is how Dean ended up walking nine blocks to his car in a shirt with two buttons. He hadn't even gotten a phone number. The burning sensation in his arm was telling him that he was crazy for wanting to see Castiel again but he didn't care. There was just something about that boy.