I have returned to the world of fan fic after a completely ridiculous dry spell from my muse! This is a 5+1, as you can see from the subtitle in the summary. Ever since Cas said to Claire in season 10 that he could "hear" not just prayers but longing too, this little plot bunny has been hopping around my brain NONSTOP. This a complete work that will be released a chapter at a time. The first three chapters will be one "time" of the 5+1 apiece, but the later chapters seem to have developed a plot along with the smut. This first chapter is just a palette teaser, so expect future chapters to be progressively longer!

Also, many thanks and huge kudos to my beta, skeptikitten, who also happens to be my sister. Is it weird to have your sister proof-read your smut? She is the one who got me hooked on SPN and Destiel, so I blame/thank her. You should too (by reading her stuff, if you like Deathnote or Hetalia). ^_^

Enjoy,

~~ ** Lady Tuesday ** ~~

Dean Fucks With Cas, Take 1 – Hand-to-Hand Combat

The first time it happens, it's a genuine accident. Dean takes the opportunity of Sam's extended trip to the library due to shitty Wi-Fi at their hole-in-the-wall motel as an excuse for a little personal "hand-to-hand combat". His mind wanders in a completely random, not-at-all-planned direction by sheer happenstance; he'd swear to it on a stack of bibles. He doesn't mean to think of Cas while whacking it. He intends to think of Cassidy or Cassandra or whatever the actual fuck her name is, the tasty brunette front-end manager for the B&B they're currently investigating. He's muttering to himself as he stretches out on the bed, blunt fingernails scraping across the front of his jeans just at his zipper, and out the name comes as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Cas," he whispers, feeling a jump of excitement as his blood surged. He palms his blossoming erection. "Cas …."

Dean knows a moment of complete panic as his brain catches up with his mouth and he considers what he's just said. Before he can stop himself, Dean realizes that he's been glancing around the room as if afraid to be 'caught in the act'. He chuffs out a breath, irritated at his own paranoia, and then ponders where his thoughts have gone. It wasn't intentional. He hasn't ever really even thought about Cas that way before – certainly not consciously – so for the angel's name to come tumbling out of Dean's mouth just as he settles down for a good hard wank session is more than a little weird.

But ….

Well ….

Hey, anybody who says that they've never even considered experimenting is probably fucking lying, and that whole "profound bond" thing has to have something to it, right? So as much as it makes his throat hitch with nervousness, Dean forces himself to settle back onto the pillow, one arm cushioned under his head. Since Sammy will be gone for at least an hour or two, and really, he's safe inside his own head, Dean gives himself permission to think about it.

And boy, does he ever.

His pulse spikes pretty much immediately as he considers those bright blues eyes that tear through him with laser intensity. Eyelids fluttering shut, Dean grazes his palm against the fly of his jeans, his erection building as he imagines the angel's acute stare directed at him, glazed over with lust. He gasps in a breath and chafes his hand over his pants more firmly, letting his thoughts drift towards slim, graceful fingers and how they would feel against the hot skin of his abdomen. He lowers the zip on his fly, pushing jeans and boxers down below his hips in one swift movement. In his head, the hand wrapping around his achingly hard erection is pale and slender but strong, cool against his heated skin, and Dean can't help the way his hips leave the mattress as he thrusts into his own palm.

"Cas…."

The word seems to be pulled from his lips unknowingly this time, and his head buzzes with sudden awareness. Dean moans the name again, not just because he pictures the stoic angel gasping with lust as he strokes Dean's cock, but because somewhere in the back of his mind, Dean knows he's being heard right now. The tingle of it zips through his muscles as he speeds the firm tugs on his erection, and the sensation changes to attentiveness laced with surprise. Dean's free hand drags up from behind his head to fist in his short locks as he moans out a burble of wordless noise. The innate knowledge that somewhere far away – maybe even in Heaven, and damn, isn't that weirdly hot – Cas hears Dean as the hunter strokes his cock and pushes the angel's name through his lips. It fuels the rage in the hunter's blood. Another few sloppy, fevered pulls and Dean's body spasms and twitches in the throes of a brutal peak. It feels less like his usual sexual climax and more like he's been pushed off a fucking mountain and landed in a snow drift. His muscles go watery with a weird giddiness that's almost relief; his face and cock burn hot but his skin feels cold and clammy; air rushes in and out of his lungs. For a moment, the location of the old handprint on his shoulder burns and he has a flash vision of Cas hunched over, his hand braced against a wall as he pants and gazes around with wild eyes.

Dean just lies still on the bed, too drained and shocked to even let go of his deflating erection. He supposes that answers his question about whether or not he'd be able to think about Cas "that way". As he blinks and stares at the ceiling, contemplating the bristling thrill at the back of his mind, he gets the feeling that maybe Cas has been forced into a revelation today, too, if that wild, bewildered exhilaration is anything to go by.

A smile tugs at Dean's lips. This … this could be fun.

A/N - Remember people: reviews are love! If you liked this little ditty, please stay tuned! It's gets pornier from here :)