Huge thanks to pharocomics for betaing, and thank you to the ECKC for moral support and oo-ing and ah-ing over the porn lol.
The next morning, Dean wakes up in an unfamiliar bed, with the early morning sun shining through unfamiliar blinds into an unfamiliar room. He stretches out under the most comfortable sheets he's ever felt in his life, the only thing bothering him being that the bed has a cold, empty spot where an incredibly hot model once laid. He grunts in tired frustration as his blind, tired search for another body comes up empty. With a groan, he rolls onto his back, blinking blearily up at the ceiling until his vision clears.
In the light of day, Dean can appreciate just how nice the room is, even if it's a bit modern for his tastes. The whole thing is decked out in a monochromatic color scheme- white blinds; gray walls; silver-y carpet; gray bedding; shiny, black furniture. Honestly, Dean finds it a little depressing, even if the furnishings of this room alone probably cost more than everything in his place combined.
With another stretch and one last groan, Dean pulls himself up and throws his legs over the side of the bed. He can't help wriggling his toes in the plush carpet, enjoying just how soft it is. He scans the room to find his clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser. Cas must have collected it all for him this morning, which leaves a bitter taste in Dean's mouth. He must want Dean out quickly. It isn't until he's standing right in front of the dresser that he realizes there's a note on top of his clothes.
Dean,
Sorry I had to run out, but early shoot this morning demanded it. Feel free to stay as long as you want. I wouldn't mind coming home to find you still in my bed. If not, I will hopefully see you another time.
Castiel
P.S. I put my number in your phone. You really should have a lock on it.
Dean's face is burning crimson by the time he's done reading. Not that it's explicit, but he can just hear Cas's rough voice saying it, see the little smirk playing on the guy's plush, pink, kissable lips, blue eyes lighting up with amusement.
He shakes the image out of his head. There's no use in getting turned on now. He quickly gets dressed and then checks his phone. Sure enough, there is a new contact added- Cas.
"Call me that always."
Dean shakes his head again. Fuck, he needed to get his head on straight. Spending all day fantasizing about a male model riding his dick isn't going to be helpful in getting any work done. Unless, that is, if he writes that album about Cas's ass. The thought has him smiling in amusement. It wouldn't be the worst idea he's ever had.
He looks at the clock on his phone- 7:26 A.M. He's supposed to be at the studio in an hour.
If he heads home first, he'll definitely be late, but Cas lives a lot closer to the studio. It'll probably take him fifteen minutes tops to get there. He could hang out here for awhile; after all, Cas had given him full permission to stay as long as he wanted. Somehow, though, skulking around the guy's apartment when he isn't there just seems creepy.
He decides he'll stop by somewhere and get some breakfast before heading into work. He'll still be early, but there's nothing wrong with that. Let the label think he's extra dedicated instead of just doing the walk of shame.
Dean finds Ruby already occupying the kitchen when he gets there, head buried in the fridge and looking drastically different then she had last night at the party. In place of the sexy, all red ensemble, she's wearing yoga pants and an oversized hoodie.
"Fancy meeting you here," he says by way of greeting, leaning against the counter as he takes a bite out of his bagel.
Ruby emerges from the refrigerator with a box of cold, McDonald's fries. Dean grimaces at the them.
"You know you have a problem, right?" he asks.
She doesn't answer, and instead stares at him intently. Slowly, a wicked grin spreads across her face. "You sly dog, you!"
Dean hopes his face isn't as red as it feels. "I don't know what you're talking about," he tries to pull of casually.
Ruby just rolls her eyes. "Right, because I wouldn't notice that you're wearing the exact same clothes as last night, plus some extra wrinkles in them."
"I have a very limited wardrobe," he says defensively.
She snorts in amusement and shakes her head. "Seriously, drop the act. It's not like I blame you. Hell, if I swung that way, I would be all over him, myself."
Now Dean knows he's blushing. Ruby just laughs. "So I guess I don't need to bother asking you if you had a good time last night."
Dean scowls at her, the effect apparently completely lost by how deeply he's blushing if Ruby's continued mirth is anything to go by.
"So tell me all about it," she instructs, sliding into a chair at the table and munching on a fry with apt attention pointed at Dean.
"Not much to tell," he mumbles, refusing to make eye contact.
"I find that incredibly hard to believe," is Ruby's sardonic response.
Dean refuses to answer, instead going back to his bagel. Ruby waits quietly for him to give her the details she wants, but when he doesn't, she says, "You give me no choice then."
Dean gives the extremely intellectual response of, "Muh?" around his bite of bagel, looking up and realizing in horror that Ruby has pulled out her phone.
"Meg, Ruby's calling you," Castiel says with a glance towards the woman's bag sitting on one of the chairs littering the shoot site.
Meg pulls out her phone, letting the sultry beat of Ruby Genz's biggest flop play on instead of answering it.
"I don't know why you insist of keeping that as her ring tone, she hates that song," Castiel scolds.
Meg smirks at him. "I think you just answered your own question." When the song clip starts over, she swipes the screen to accept the call. "Lucky you, Ruby. You caught me during one of my very precious breaks. What is it I can do for you?"
"Did you know that your boy and my boy hooked up last night?" Ruby asks.
Meg raises her eyebrows suggestively at Cas. "I did not. Clarence, why didn't you tell me you took Deano home last night?"
"Regardless of what you think, Meg, you don't know every aspect of my life," Castiel snips.
Meg huffs, smirk never faltering. "Right, keep telling yourself that."
"I'm gonna take that as he didn't tell you," Ruby says from the other side of the line.
"Not even a hint, and he's being a big baby about it now," Meg responds, continuing to watch Castiel as he scowls at her.
Meg just smiles at him, saying, "Oh really, Ruby, you don't say. Dean hated it that much?"
"Stop that!" Cas growls, snatching the phone from her, Meg doubling over in laughter once he takes it.
Cas places the phone to his ear. "Hello, Ruby."
"Hey, Castiel."
"So Dean told you about last night?"
"Didn't have to when he showed up to work all ruffled and still dressed the same."
Castiel grimaces. "I wasn't aware he needed to be into the studio today. I would have woken him up."
"Well isn't that sweet. So unlike you," Ruby chirps.
Cas frowns. "I'm plenty sweet."
She laughs into the phone, a pretty, delightful sound. "I know, I know. You're as endearing as a box of kittens."
"I somehow feel like that's an insult."
"It's whatever you want it to feel like."
"Meg! Castiel! Breaks over, come on!" one of the assistants shouts from where the set up is.
"Tell Dean to call me," Cas says quickly, completely without thought, before hanging up and stashing Meg's phone back in her bag.
Meg looks at him as though she's never seen him before. "Call you?"
"Don't start," he grumbles, stalking off to the set. Meg shrugs behind him.
After a few false starts during Dean's morning recording session, all 100% his own fault, Dean has to push Cas as far from his mind as possible. It isn't easy at first, but as he gets more into the music, he eventually forgets all about blue eyes and perfect hip bones. He manages to not think about Cas at all until they break for lunch. Then he's stuck staring at his phone as though it has offended him as he distractedly eats his lunch.
Ruby slides into the seat across from him. "So Castiel gave you his number?"
Dean doesn't answer, and instead raises stares at her in disbelief. "You're still here!?"
"Yes, I'm still here," she grouses, snatching a fry from him.
He looks between his food and his friend, an expression of utter betrayal on his face. "You have a problem!"
Once Ruby finishes chewing, she settles him with a look that is two parts curious to one part concerned. "So are you going to call him?"
"I hadn't decided yet." A beat passes. "Should I not?"
"I never said that." Her expression doesn't change though.
"Ruby, I'm serious. If you know something, you better tell me."
Ruby heaves a tired sigh, which could either mean it's bad or that she's just tired. Dean wouldn't be surprised if she didn't sleep at all last night, what with her six A.M. recording slot and all.
She smiles wanly at him. "Don't get me wrong, I like Castiel, he's a good friend, just..." She bites her lip contemplatively, then settles him with a determined look. "Don't you think you should focus on the album? You've got big things coming your way if you work hard. I'd hate to see you miss out because of some guy, even if that guy is someone I really like." She pushes back from the table and stands up. "I'm just saying, that from a professional standpoint, now might not be the best time to be exchanging numbers with guys."
Dean looks at his phone and can't help feeling disappointed because he knows she's right. He came to New York to make it in the big times, not make it in hot guys. When he looks back up at Ruby, she's grinning manically at him.
"Must have been one hell of a lay, though. He never gives out his number."
Dean blinks owlishly before shouting, "Damn it, Ruby!" as she runs out, laughing the whole way.
Dean takes Ruby's advice and deletes Cas's number from his phone, focusing wholly on his work. It's probably for the best because even if he hadn't, he stays so busy that he would have never been able to see the guy anyway. He wishes he could say that he completely forgets about Cas in that time, but that proves basically impossible. However, he does manage to keep all thoughts of the model confined to very specific times. Almost a full month passes before he's made to think about Cas anywhere beyond the confines of his apartment.
He's packing up for the afternoon, getting ready to leave the studio for the day when Ruby walks in and leans oh-so-too-casually against the doorjamb.
"Want to go somewhere with me?"
Dean regards her suspiciously. "Yeah, because that isn't shady."
She rolls her eyes in that over-exaggerated way she adopts whenever she deems that Dean is being difficult.
"Ruby, just tell me where you want me to go." He's finding it difficult to keep his patience with her today, ready as he is to go home.
"If I tell you, you're just going to call me a hypocrite and say no," Ruby whines, and it reminds Dean of his friend Charlie back home and when she didn't get her way when they were kids.
"Ruby!" he snaps. "Just spit it out!"
Ruby scowls petulantly at him for a moment longer before finally huffing out, "Fine!" However, her silence continues.
"Well?" Dean prompts.
She gives an over-exaggerated sigh. "I'm meeting Meg and Castiel at their shoot so that we can go out for dinner."
Dean narrows his eyes at her. "I thought you told me I shouldn't hang out with Cas."
"I said I didn't think you should be getting involved with anyone right now. I didn't say you couldn't have friends."
Dean continues staring her down until, finally, he cast his eyes to the side in uncertainty. "I never called him."
"I'm sure he's over it," she says with a smile. It honestly doesn't make him feel any better.
Dean hears the click-schnik-click of a camera shutter before they even reach the set.
"Are you sure it's okay we're here?" he whispers.
Ruby looks at him like he's an idiot. "Why are you whispering?"
"I just uh... I figured that's what you do on a set?"
"A movie set, sure. But this is a photo shoot. You don't have to be that quiet." She rolls her eyes.
"Well how am I supposed to know," he grumbles.
An excited call of Ruby's name stops them in their tracks, and a young man runs up to them.
"I haven't seen you around in awhile!" he says with a broad, sweet smile.
Ruby smiles back. "Been working on a new album, Alfie."
Impossibly, the kids grin gets even bigger. "Awesome! I can't wait to hear it."
"I'll get you a signed copy," Ruby responds with a wink. "Now, are Castiel and Meg still in the shoot?"
"Yeah! But you can go on in."
"Will do, thanks. Nice seeing you again, kid." Ruby gives a small wave before walking on, Dean following after a beat.
"Who's that?" he asks.
"Alfred Samandriel. He's the personal assistant to Abaddon Knight."
"Abaddon Knight? That famous photographer?"
Ruby looks at him with raised eyebrows and a grin. "Look at you! I'm impressed."
Dean can feel his cheeks heating up. "Yeah, well, she does a lot of the photos in Rolling Stone."
Ruby laughs. "Well, you're in for a treat, then."
The set itself is much simpler than Dean would have imagined, much quieter, too. There was no hustle and bustle of assistants running around or gaggles of snooty models waiting their turn. There are only two people sitting off to the side at styling stations who Dean can only assume are a makeup artist and a stylist; a woman with flaming red hear pulled back in an intricate bun snapping pictures; and then in the center of the room, spotlights shining on them, are Meg and Cas.
It's probably the most erotic scene Dean has ever seen. Cas is completely sprawled across an ornate chaise, looking perfectly disheveled with his arms thrown behind his head and completely naked but for a sock covering his dick, piercing blue eyes, bluer than Dean ever could have imagined, staring into the camera. And sprawled on top of him is Meg, cheek resting atop crossed hands on Castiel's chest, the only clothing on her a tiny, flesh-toned G-sting and a giant, diamond bracelet, though Dean assumes there are also some pasties involved in the ensemble.
It all knocks the breathe out of Dean and makes his pants feel a little tighter because sure, he's really into Cas, and now he's getting to see the guy in almost all his glory in good lighting, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't find Meg hot as hell, too. She may be a little less curvy than most girls he would be interested in, but there's something about the predatory gleam that constantly burns deep in her brown eyes that draws him in like a moth to the flame, alluring but equally deadly. Putting the two of them together, all made up to look like they've just had great sex that somehow still leaves them unimpressed with each other? Well, it makes not a hell of a lot of sense, but Dean is down for it all the same.
"Shit," he exhales breathlessly. Except it must not be as quietly as he first thought because the snapping of the lens shutter abruptly stops, and out of the corner of his eye, he can see Ruby shooting him a coy look.
The red head, who must be Abaddon, slowly lowers her camera, every move calculated and sure, and turns to Dean and Ruby with a murderous glare.
As Dean feels about to piss his pants, a sultry smile just spreads across Ruby's face as she says, "Hey, Abbie, what's up?"
The glare immediately fades off Abaddon's face, replaced by something much more friendly. "Ruby," she purrs, "I can only expect you're here for these two?" She tilts her head back minutely to where Cas and Meg are still laying on the chaise.
"Oh, Abbie, you know I always have time for you," Ruby simpers.
Abaddon throws her head back with a short bark of a laugh. "Well, lucky for you, I think it's just about time we took a short break."
Ruby pouts pitifully, and the whole display honestly makes Dean want to gag a little. "You mean you guys aren't done yet?" she asks.
Abaddon scowls, and while it's nowhere near as frightening as her glare, it's still enough to make Dean uneasy. "We would be done," Abaddon says slowly, words drawn out through gritted teeth, "if somebody," here she shoots a glare at Meg, "knew how to be on fucking time."
If Meg hears her, she doesn't give any indication that she cares.
Ruby smiles sympathetically. "I understand that scenario all too well. Why don't I have Alfie run across the street to grab us some coffee, and you can use the break to unload on me."
Abaddon gives the younger woman a pleased smirk, suggestive enough that even Dean is blushing to the roots of his hair.
"I'd like that very much, Ruby." She turns to Meg and Cas and shouts, "Take twenty you two!"
"Twenty!?" Meg shouts, lifting herself to hover over Castiel's chest. "We're never going to get out of here at this rate!"
"Should have thought of that before being late," Abaddon chides.
Meg glowers at her before swinging herself off the chaise. It's all Dean can to do quickly avert his eyes, ridiculously wanting to maintain some modicum of decency.
When he sees Meg's bare feet approaching, he finally looks back up to find both she and Castiel are wrapped up in fuzzy, white robes, similar to the kinds high end resorts and spas give out.
Meg has her brown eyes trained on Ruby, big and doe-like, bottom lip pushed out delicately. "Will you get me something to eat to tide me over until we can get to dinner?"
"I'm stealing her away for coffee, Meg," the photographer says smugly. "You'll just have to find someone else to make your food run." The way she says it, Dean's pretty sure there aren't exactly other options.
Meg's expression turns unreadable, eyes flicking between Abaddon and Ruby, while said singer bites her lip nervously.
When Abaddon moves to Ruby's side and slides her arm around the younger woman's waist, Meg's expression smooths out into the schooled blankness every model seems to sport by default.
Leaning down to speak almost directly into Ruby's ear, Abaddon says, "Let's go find Alfie."
Ruby hesitates only for a split-second, giving Meg that odd look Dean's seen her give the model twice now, before nodding and walking off with Abaddon.
Dean searches for something to say to Meg as the model stares after the departing couple, expression carefully blank. He comes up with little more than a cautious utterance of her name before she huffs, turning the other way and storming off. He feels his throat close up completely when he sees Cas walking towards him, looking after Meg briefly before training shocking blue eyes on Dean. Dean feels a flush crawl up his neck as Castiel's commands from almost a month ago echo around in his brain- Don't ever look away from me. Dean's starting to become pretty certain he couldn't even if he tried.
Cas is watching him, studying him, head tilted just to the side as he stares at Dean, almost seeming to stare straight through him, and Dean is realizing that looking at Cas in the daylight is a lot different than looking at Cas in shitty club lighting and darkness. The guy is still sex on legs, but the God-like aura seems to have melted away. Or maybe that's just the lack of drugs, if the normal sized pupils are anything to go by.
"Walk with me?" Castiel asks, and Dean is helpless to do anything but nod.
He follows the man back through a tiny hallway behind the shoot site and leads him into what Dean can only guess is a changing room going by the racks and racks of clothing. He walks in ahead of Cas, who hangs back by the door, and takes it all in.
"Seems a little strange to have all this stuff in here when you're doing a nude shoot," Dean says, trying to place some levity to his words. When he turns to face the model, Cas is leaning against the now closed door, staring Dean down as though the musician is some sort of alien creature.
"You never called me," Cas says, and he doesn't sound accusing, doesn't sound mad. He simply sounds intrigued, like it's a remarkable feat that Dean accomplished by not contacting the guy. Dean supposes he could see where that may be true. After all, how many guys are stupid enough to turn down hot models who are great in the sack? Could someone remind Dean again just why he let Ruby talk him into that?
Dean swallows around the lump in his throat. "Yeah, uh... Sorry about that. I've been pretty busy. Time just kind of slipped away from me, I guess."
Castiel smiles at him, but it's odd, not the kind of smile that shows on his mouth, it's the kind of smile that shines purely through his eyes, all amusement, like he finds Dean's answer quaint and cute. For some reason, it goes straight to Dean's dick.
"Want to make it up to me?" Castiel asks, the smirk finally becoming ever-so-slightly perceptible on those plush, pink lips.
"Do they put lipstick on you for these shoots?" Dean asks dumbly, and he could kick himself. Time and place, Winchester! When hot as fuck models are propositioning you in changing rooms is definitely not it!
The smirk spreads fully across Cas's face, flashing pearly white teeth. When he speaks, it's with a soft chuckle in his tone. "They do, actually. Do you like it?"
And God help him, but Dean definitely does like it.
Castiel steps into Dean's space, slipping a hand around the back of Dean's neck, leaning in so that his breath is ghosting across Dean's lips as he says, "Does seeing me in front of the camera do it for you?"
Dean can't help leaning in for a kiss, the response automatic, Castiel's warmth drawing him in like a magnet, but Cas stops him, placing the pads of his fingers against Dean's mouth.
"Sorry, Dean, still in the middle of a shoot. Can't risk messing up the look."
Dean lets out a low groan in frustration that chokes off into one of pleasure as Castiel starts rubbing the palm of his hand against Dean's half-hard cock through his jeans.
"Is this what I do to you, Dean?" Cas asks, so close Dean can feel the man's body heat. Cas grips Dean's wrist with his other hand, guiding him past the fabric of the robe, brushing Dean's hand against his own erect member, and Dean's breath catches. "You do the same to me," Cas whispers.
Dean wraps his hand around Cas's dick, thumb roving over the slit to spread the precome accumulating there. Cas gasps, and Dean wants nothing more than to move into it, swallow the sounds straight from Castiel's mouth. The fact that he can't only serves to heighten every sensation further- the smooth velvet of Cas's skin in his hand, the coarse rub of denim against his own straining dick, the heat of Castiel before him, perfect and untouchable.
"So I can look but not touch," Dean murmurs into Cas's ear, and Cas lets out a breathy chuckle.
"You can keep touching me, Dean, just not anywhere else." Dean can hear the smile in the model's voice.
Dean moans deep in his throat, and Cas just gazes at him with a hazy smile, breath catching with every stroke and twist and flick of Dean's hand. Dean wants to tell Cas how beautiful he looks like this, how sexy, how perfect, lips parted as he heaves in little hitched gasps, eyes half-lidded, head tilted back just enough to expose the perfectly tanned skin of Cas's neck, only he's sure it's all things Cas has heard before. Dean doesn't want to be just another guy in a long stream of men. Dean wants to stand out, it's all he's ever wanted, and with Cas the feeling is only multiplied.
"So I can touch you here," Dean emphasizes it with a twist on his upstroke, ripping a choked moan from Cas, "however I want?"
Cas offers him a heady grin. "How is it you want to touch me, Dean?"
Dean grins back, untying the cord around the robe easily before falling softly to his knees and pushing the fabric aside.
Cas moans long and low, hands sliding into Dean's hair as the musician sucks him down. Cas's dick is hot and heavy on his tongue, the salty taste of him making Dean's taste buds over-sensitive with the flavor. He swallows Cas down to the hilt, nosing the skin there where Cas is clean-shaven. Dean never much thought about how he felt about men shaving their pubic hair, but on Cas he loves it, the smell of oils and soap mixing together deliciously with the man's own natural, musky scent to create a light perfume that Dean could get high off of. He drags his lips back up, tongue swirling around the head, pressing flat against the slit where Cas is leaking a steady stream of precome.
Cas gives a long moan of his name, and Dean can't help the smug feeling the wells up in him that he's the one drawing these noises out of Cas.
Dean sets a steady pace, adding in the occasional lick and barest nip of teeth as he learns what Cas likes best, using the symphony of moans and gasps and exhalations of his own name as a road map. He revels in the scratch of Cas's nails against his scalp and the way Cas's fingers tighten in his hair and pull just enough to be on that sexy side of painful.
When Cas basically whimpers, "Dean, so close," it's all the incentive he needs to swallow the model down one more time and moan around the fat cock in his throat.
Cas lets out a hoarse cry, fingers locked tight in Dean's hair, as he pulses his release down Dean's throat. Dean is sure to swallow down every last drop, tongue laving Castiel's dick until it sits fully softened in his mouth. The two make eye contact, Cas running a hand down the side of Dean's face, expression wide and open and completely blissed out, and where are the cameras when Dean needs them? Because these are the kinds of pictures Dean needs of Cas, not the posed ones on the chaise where him and another model stare boredly into the lens.
A harsh rap-rap-rapping knock at the door shatters the moment, Meg calling though, "Clarence, put your boy toy away so that we can wrap up this shoot and go get dinner! I'm starving!"
When Dean looks away from the door and back up at Cas, it's to find that the model is still staring at him with a look in his eyes somewhere between fond and don't-you-look-delicious, and Dean is suddenly very reminded that his own dick is straining against the seam of his pants, completely neglected and aching.
Cas seems to have the same though because his eyes flick almost imperceptibly down to Dean's crotch, dark lashes fanning against perfect cheeks for the barest of seconds before he looks back into Dean's eyes while calling back, "I'll be out in just a second, Meg." Cas runs the pad of his thumb against Dean's swollen bottom lip, smirk positively lecherous. Much quieter, he says, "I think I know what I'd like for dessert tonight, too, if that's alright with you."