Thank an episode of Private Practice (what am I doing with my life?) for this update.
Turns out, the sex issue? Way more complex than he'd originally thought.
Castiel responds to his kiss, to the pull of his hands as Dean urges him closer, feeling Cas's mouth pressing into his own, teeth drawing on Dean's lower lip and sucking in the way that never fails to get him interested.
Which is road block number one – namely, that Castiel knows exactly what Dean wants and Dean has no freaking clue how to reciprocate without alerting Castiel to his ignorance. A couple of seconds of his hands resting nervously on Castiel's shoulders seems to clue him in though,
"Dean?" he leans back a little.
"Mmmm?" Dean hedges.
"Do whatever you want, if I don't like it, I'll let you know." He says gently.
Shyly, Dean presses their mouths together again and Castiel sighs softly as their tongues skate together. Racking up his confidence a little, Dean touches Castiel's throat and chest, fingers finding the strip of flesh between shirt and pants, tracing ribs and soft hair and flesh. It's weird, because Cas is a guy, and used to be (recently in his own mind) an angel. But muscle memory is in his every limb, joint and inch of skin. He knows this, he likes this and he likes how it feels.
Road block number two is slightly more difficult, unfair and humiliating in equal measures.
"Son of a bitch." Dean groans, forehead striking Castiel's shoulder in frustration.
"It's not like it hasn't happened before." Castiel murmurs, hands still stroking Dean's back and an insistent erection still pressed into his leg.
"Not making it better Cas." He sighs and sits back, shaking his head. "I'm old, aren't I?"
"You're in your 40's..." Castiel fingers the comforter on the bed. "I'm in my...well, I've existed since nearly the dawn of...everything."
"And you can still get it up." Dean says through clenched teeth, he rolls his head back and glares at the ceiling. "This is so humiliating."
Castiel drums his fingers on his thigh thoughtfully, then slants his eyes downwards, looking sly.
"Medicine cabinet, top left, inside the dental floss box." He says, softly.
Dean raises his eyebrows.
"You didn't think I knew." Castiel murmurs, smiling a little. Dean weighs up the humiliation of having to resort to the little blue pills against actually getting to have sex.
"Two seconds." He says, darting for the bathroom.
Castiel props himself up on one elbow.
"So...am I keeping any more secrets...or things I think are secrets?" Dean calls back from the bathroom. "Hair plugs, a truss...secret girlfriend?"
Castiel thinks for a minute.
"There's a packet of players behind the heating vent in the impala...you still smoke them when you get mad about Sam." He says after a while. Dean wanders in from the bathroom.
"I smoke?"
"You did, for a while." Castiel shrugs. Dean frowns, then chooses to sidestep the Sam issue.
"How long do these things take to work?"
"About half and hour." Castiel says, lying back down on the bed as Dean comes back towards him, shuffling up the mattress to accommodate the other man. Dean glances down at Cas's still tented pants.
"You want me to..."
Castiel pulls him down gently, kissing him and guiding Dean's body to cover his own. "I can wait." He whispers, moving to suck gently at Dean's collarbone. "What else do you want to know?"
"It can wait." Dean moves an uncertain hand to palm the bulge in Castiel's pants. The other man groans softly and rubs into his palm.
"Fully functioning bastard." Dean whispers teasingly.
"Virgin till I was how old?" Castiel retorts, sucking in Dean's lip and dragging his body down hard, rubbing shamelessly up against him. "Making up for lost time."
Dean makes a fuss of Castiel, rubbing against his body and gradually shucking off his clothing, then his own, biting and sucking his skin until Castiel's leaking against his stomach and whimpering every time the tip brushes a line against Dean's warm stomach.
Dean's having a few issues with his '10 years older than he remembers it being' body. One of those issues is 'the stomach' softer than he remembers, threaded over with brown hair just turning steel coloured around his navel. He's more scarred than he remembers, obviously, from a decade of extra hunts, but despite that activity he's still not as taut as he was, as young. He use to...he shakes himself internally but he can't stop thinking it...he used to be sure of his body, that it could hunt and fight and attract any chick he wanted...and now it's, not exactly ugly, but he's less sure. Less certain of what Castiel sees in him.
When he finally begins to harden against Castiel's thigh, he groans in relief, and then in pleasure when Castiel begins to stroke him gently.
"Lube, top drawer." Castiel mutters, fingers not leaving his length, eyes bright with intent and honed on Dean's rising cock.
After that he stops feeling uncertain.
Exhausted and easing a slight strained muscle in his thigh, Castiel rolls off of Dean who lies, staying at the ceiling.
"That was..." Dean's mouth moves silently for a few seconds. "...just, wow."
Castiel, lying beside him, his chest heaving as he tries to catch up on the last hour, nods emphatically.
"Is it always..." Dean can't finish sentences right now.
A lazy smile curves Castiel's mouth, a true 'cat that got the cream' leer. "We should have recorded it."
Dean just closes his eyes, feeling pleasure and aches he didn't think his body was capable of lulling him to sleep. The sheet over them shifts and then Castiel is looking down on him with concern.
"I didn't...freak you out, did I?" his brow creases with worry. "It wasn't too much?"
Dean's kind of had his first gay experience, being inside of Castiel...and then ten minutes later being held down and filled up. It's not so much a learning curve as a slippery rock wall without hand holds.
Dean can't really express how weirdly normal the whole thing had been, on the surface he was still dumbfounded by the idea that Castiel, Angel of the Lord Castiel, had been inside of him, moving and pushing and growling some truly filthy shit into his ear. But somewhere else, like the way in which his older body no longer surprised him, just made him a little uncomfortable, Dean was sort of used to the idea. Dean tugs him down, spreading his legs and wrapping his arms around Castiel's sweat dampened body.
"No. It was..." He smiles widely and tries to remember the last time he's smiled so openly. "Jesus, it was..."
Castiel seems amused by this.
"Yes it was." He kisses him gently.
Dean rubs a hand tiredly through Castiel's hair.
"I wish I could remember, the first time...every time. I wish I could remember us." Dean sighs, easing his tense back and shifting until he's comfortable. "One knock to the head and I just let it all go? I'm kind of pissed as myself." He grumbles.
"You don't have to remember." Castiel says seriously. "If it's not going to happen I'd rather you not run yourself into the ground trying." He tickles his fingers against Dean's ribs. "I remember where the blue pills are...I'm not going to let what we were disappear." He closes his eyes. "and...you can have Sam, you get to have him back...that's worth it."
"He hurt you."
"And you made me rebel, Sam drank demon blood...I let him out of the panic room."
Dean sucks in an angry breath.
"I already told you." Castiel says softly. "The point it, it was a bad time, for everyone. And now it's over, it can rest."
"I still want to remember." Dean insists.
"Because you're you...you don't give up." Castiel's foot nudges his shin. "That's why I'm still here."