Dean glances at the clock on the wall. The minutes have been slowly ticking by, so fucking slowly. Tick, tick, tick, closer and closer to the end of the day. Dean has been achingly hard since lunch, when Cas had brought him in a sleek black box and told him "put them on." His secretary had left without another word.
So now he's wearing a pair of black satiny panties, complete with a lace trim, garters, and stockings under his expensive three piece suit. He's been on edge since he ran to the bathroom to put them on, the thrill of wearing the lingerie underneath his business attire has made it very difficult to concentrate on work. And trying to hide a hard-on during a meeting with India hadn't made him feel very professional.
But it's five minutes to five now and soon the day will be over. Dean clenches his fists and shifts in his seat, gasping at the sensation of the smooth fabric of the panties sliding over his erection.
"Fuck."
Dean jumps as his phone rings.
"Dean Smith." He tries to keep a level voice.
"Hello, Dean." Damnit if that gruff voice doesn't do things to him.
"Hey, Cas, is there a call for me?" He really hopes there isn't, he doesn't want to delay this any more than he needs to.
"No, I was just calling to make sure you're wearing them."
Dean runs a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm wearing them."
"And you haven't touched yourself?" Cas' voice is nearly a whisper.
"No, but fuck I've wanted to all day."
"Good, that's good. I have some paperwork to fill out but I should be done in about ten minutes." Ten minutes? Work was over in three.
"Can't you put it off until tomorrow?"
"You know I can't. Patience, Dean. It will be worth the wait."
"Hurry up," Dean says, and he hangs up so Cas can finish his work.
Ten minutes feels like an hour. Dean fidgets and bites his nails, a bad habit he's been trying to break. His skin feels like it's on fire and is begging to be touched. He loosens his tie and fans himself with some papers.
Dean jumps out of his chair the moment Cas comes in. "Dean." His voice shakes and his pupils are dilated, and Dean can tell he's about as turned on as Dean is.
Dean locks the door and shuts the blinds as Cas sits down at his chair. "I want you to bend over the desk," he says, voice low and commanding and Jesus Cas doesn't have to ask him twice, he's there in a heartbeat. He pushes folders out of the way and leans forward, gripping the edges of the desk, tense with anticipation.
"Relax, Dean," Cas says, running his fingers lightly down Dean's spine until they reach the waistband of his pants. It makes him shiver. "I'm going to take care of you." Dean feels his belt being worked open and his zipper is pulled down slowly, knuckles dragging against his cock through the two layers of fabric. He pushes against Cas' hand, desperate for some sort of friction.
"Need you, Cas," Dean says, and he's surprised he is capable of verbalizing his thoughts. "Need this."
Cas pulls his slacks down and the cool air of the office feels amazing against Dean's overheated skin. Cas isn't touching him, though, and Dean can't see his expression. He feels suddenly very self conscious, until Cas speaks.
"Beautiful. So gorgeous for me, Dean." Dean feels his cheeks heating up at the praise and he moans in response. "You're going to keep these on while I fuck you." He presses up against Dean, his chest flat against Dean's back and kisses the back of his neck gently. Dean can feel his arousal against his ass and grinds against it.
And then the warmth is gone and Dean nearly whines, but he can hear his bottom drawer being opened and knows what's coming. He hears the bottle of lube being opened and his panties are pushed to the side and then a slick finger is circling around his hole.
Cas opens him up quickly (he seems to be getting as impatient as Dean) and hits his prostate over and over and Dean has to bite down on his hand to stop himself from crying out. It's risky, doing this at work, with Zachariah in the next office over, but the thought that they could get caught only seems to make him harder.
When Dean is open enough Cas slides his three fingers out and coats his cock. He lets out a sinful moan as he pushes in, and Dean nearly comes right then as the crown drags across his rim. It's a slight burn as Cas stretches him open but as soon as Cas is fully sheathed, that pain turns to pleasure.
"So perfect, Dean," Cas says fondly as he pulls out nearly all the way, then slides back in.
It's tortuously slow at first, gentle, Cas pressed against his back, whispering praises into his ear. One hand finds intertwines with one of Dean's and the other strokes his hair, damp with sweat. Instead of being soothing it drives Dean crazy with want. His nerve endings are lit up at every point of contact and he wants more.
"Harder, Cas, please."
Cas pulls out slowly and Dean thinks he's going to just ignore him, but then he slams his hips forward and nails Dean's prostate. He screams Cas' name, momentarily forgetting where he is and that he should be quiet. He expects Cas to still but he just keeps going, pounding into him as Dean bites down on his fist again to keep quiet. He expects a knock at the door at any moment, but the room stays silent, save for Dean's gasps and Cas' steady moans.
It's too much, Cas' cock repeatedly hitting that spot inside of Dean for minutes on end, and when Cas reaches around and traces the hard line of Dean's erection with his finger that's it for Dean and he's coming, soaking the panties after barely even a touch.
That seems to be the breaking point for Cas because after two more thrusts he stills. "Oh, god, Dean." He feels the warmth filling him up as the grip on his hand becomes nearly painful.
Cas stays buried in him for a while, lazily kissing his neck and stroking his thumb across the back of Dean's hand. When he finally pulls out he's still panting and he looks disheveled. Dean loves that that's because of him.
He's definitely keeping the panties.
