The Winchesters are back on the road now, chasing street signs and signals on their way to the next potential case. Night is falling fast and Dean is driving even faster, while all the time Sam sits in his usual shotgun and stares at his brother. "Doing alright?" he asks.
"Yeah," Dean answers quickly, keeping his glassy green eyes fixed on the open road.
"You sure?"
"I said yeah."
"Stomach okay?"
"Sam, I said I'm fine. Fine means fine. Stop worrying so much."
"Oh yeah, like you can tell me about not worrying." Sam sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes. "You heard from Cas lately, by the way?"
"No." This time Dean's answer is even faster and smaller. The very mention of the angel's name makes his heart beat at an increased velocity.
"Any idea where he's at? I'm still really, really worried about him."
"I'm sure he's fine."
Sam looks at Dean and frowns. "He's fine, too?" the younger brother snips. "Since when do you just say everyone's 'fine'? How do you even know? By the way, I thought you were the one who always overreacted to anything bothering Cas; any unusual behavior."
"If something was wrong, he'd tell us," Dean says, clearing his throat. He can already feel heat building up within his chest, aching to escape. Sam better stop dropping those C-Bombs.
"Cas keeps to himself sometimes, you know that."
Dean's pants tighten. "Y-yeh, I know I know that," he says, licking his lips. It's so awkward in that car and Sam has no idea. Dean just wants to see Cas, hear him, touch him. It's so painful that he's almost about to cry.
"You sure you're feeling okay enough to drive?" asks Sam.
"I'm fine, Sammy. C'mon." Dean is slightly apprehensive about his statement but he does his best to look in control.
"O-okay. I just think Cas deserves us to check up on him, you know?"
There's that name again. Dean exhales real loud and tries to withhold a groan. His forehead his moist and his cheeks are burning up, probably undeniably bright red on the outside. "Sure," Dean says in a tight voice.
"Maybe he'll know what's wrong with you."
"There's nothing, I'm telling you."
"But look at your face, man! You're acting like you have a fever. Cas shoul—"
"Ughh!" Dean can't help but release a moan. His grip on the steering wheel tightens and Sam narrows his eyes at his brother.
"It's almost like…Dean, are you sure you aren't hiding anything?"
"No, I'm not! I'm not fucking hiding anything, okay?! We agreed to be honest with each other, right?!"
"Right, right…just, well, Cas is off the map like crazy, acting odd around us, and now you seem to get sick every time I say his name."
"I just feel shitty, that's it. My stomach's fucked up and I'm not doing great."
Sam looks at him oddly. He can see through Dean's body language a little better than that, but not well enough to know what's actually going on. "I'll justgive him a call and see what's up," he says. Dean tries to tell him no, but that would be a major red flag and honesty, the growing, burning desire in his crotch and chest is so fierce that he can do little but just keep driving.
"Hey, Cas," Sam says into the phone.
"Hello, Sam."
Even the sound of the angel's voice, buzzy and faint through Sam's receiver, is enough to poke the fires within Dean. His hands begin to sweat so much that he can stroke a slick patch between his palm and the steering wheel. He thumbs over the curve of the circle and licks his lips once more.
"You alright, man?"
"Yes."
"Everything okay with whatever you're doing?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
"I am sure, Sam. But…thank you for asking."
"It's not a problem. Can I ask you something?"
"Yes…"
"I'm worried about Dean."
Dean quickly looks at Sam and tries to yap at him but nothing comes out. He's so tense, sweating and overworked from listening to Cas' voice that he can't really control himself. He has to focus on the road. Sam mouths the word "What?" but keeps talking into the phone.
"He got some food poisoning or something yesterday, but it seems to be getting worse. He looks terrible. Maybe you can come take a peek at him?"
"I can try."
"Okay, great. We're just along route—"
"I'm here."
The air inside the car thickens and Dean breathes a sigh of relief. Hearing Cas actually there and sensing his body so close to him temporarily numbs the hotness. He peeks a glimpse in the rearview mirror and sees the angel sitting back there. Every time, he looks a little more attractive and by now he's downright sexy. His broad, pale lips separate gently as his eyes are fixed on Dean.
"Just look at him," Sam says to the angel. Cas leans forward in his seat and very close to the back of Dean's head. He studies him for a moment, and Dean nearly faints. Feeling the angel's breath against his neck, sensing his eyes scanning him; it's all so intense. He's close and yet so far. A bead of sweat drips down his temple and Cas withdraws.
"I'm not sure," he says.
"You don't know?!" Sam asks, taken back a bit since he really expected Cas to have some idea. How could he not?
"I believe that the—" Cas starts to talk but Dean interrupts him by tensing his jaw and making an uncomfortable face. "What is it, Dean?"
He immediately pulls over. This makes Sam even grumpier and he starts to look mad. "What are you doing?!" he gripes.
"I gotta talk to Cas alone," Dean says quickly. There's no avoiding it. He can't beat around the bush but he also can't tell Sam a damn thing.
"You're just going to leave me here?" Sam fusses.
"No." Dean shuts off the engine and steps out of the car. "Cas?"
"Right away, Dean."
Sam folds his arms and sits back in the chair, shaking his head. "What's next?" is all he can think.
But outside the Impala, Dean steers Cas away from Sam's vision and takes him around to the back. He closes his eyes and, halfway between frustrated and relieved, grabs both of Cas' hands and squeezes them. It seems that Cas is just as hot and sweaty as he is.
"Don't tell Sammy any of this, okay?" Dean mutters.
"I understand," says Cas. He awkwardly fumbles his fingers around on Dean's hands, looking at them. Sam is still inside the car and even has his eyes closed now. They can only see the back of his head, though.
"But it's just, ugh, I dunno man. This thing. This heat. I don't know how to handle it."
"I am faced with the same problem."
"How are you holding up, by the way?"
"Not well," Cas admits. He gazes up at Dean with hungry eyes. "I need you. I need you constantly. It is an endless distraction. This…this penis is firm with blood every waking moment and it ceases to go down. And my anus is increasingly hungry for you. Inserting objects is futile. Every time I try, the sensation does nothing. I need you, Dean."
"I know, I know," Dean moans into a whisper. He squeezes the angel's hands more while heating up crazily over the idea of Cas masturbating with God only knows what he can find. He wants to take him right then and there, but it's impossible with Sam in the car. Third wheel Sam. Dean can't believe he's using those words to describe his precious brother but fucking hell; he needs to slap those angel cheeks around and he might even kill the next thing to get in his way.
"I want to stop this, Dean," Cas says softly. "These cravings are more than either of us can handle. It is beyond human or angel desire."
"But what, then? You got any idea how to fix it?" Dean bites his lower lip and stares right into Cas' eyes. Those swirling blue crystal auras glisten in the faint glimmer of the highway lights, and they wiggle sadly. Dean wants to kiss him. He wants to hold him, stroke him, lick him and anything else that is humanly possible.
"I don't know," Cas admits. "I'm doing my best to research it, but as I said, the lust is overwhelming. Removing you from my mind is impossible."
Now the angel looks Dean over briefly. His eyes seem to focus on the crotch of his pants and in and instant, Cas is on his knees.
"No, no, Cas, wait. People can see us."
"It doesn't matter."
"Come back, come back here," Dean talks quickly and walks backwards, pulling Cas by the collar. There might not be much traffic out there, but it only takes one State Trooper to bust them and that is seriously the last thing Dean needs to deal with.
The go back to the rear fender of the Impala, hidden from Sam by the blind spot and hidden from traffic by the rest of the chassis. Cas remains on his knees and he starts to undo Dean's pants; at first he moves gingerly but once they make finger to stomach contact, the angel flares up with more desire and moves swift and almost aggressively. He pulls down Dean's fly and whips the dick out of its jersey-cotton cocoon. The cold air that touches his hard on doesn't even faze him, but Cas' fingers serve as an antidote.
"Go ahead," Dean moans in a soft whisper. He smiles nonstop as he knows that relief is coming. Cas gazes up at Dean with two, big blue moons and slowly opens his mouth. The view alone was worth suffering in Hell. "Suck it, baby."
"Why do you call me baby? Comparatively, you are the child."
Dean grunts. "It's just a word. People say it when they're…" He clears his throat. "People say it as a sexy thing." Cas nods slowly and Dean runs his fingers through the brush of dark hair. His scalp his damp from sweat. "Put it in your mouth, Cas."
"Yes," Cas says with a small smile. He separates his lips and pulls the throbbing, aching cock into his mouth. Dean grips into the angel's hair at once and thrusts inside. The itch is scratched. Relief is here. Cas' mouth, though hot and tight, feels cool and calm to the touch for Dean. It's such sweet, sweet relief.
He begins to rock his hips, slowly at first but growing progressively faster and faster. Cas closes his eyes and sucks hard, using his tongue to lap around the edges when he gets the chance.
"Oh, fuck yeah, Cas, oh man," Dean's moans crawl out in that fashion, humping the angel's face from the core of his abs. The night air begins to chill his relaxing body. He's feeling human again. Finally fucking human again. The incubus is dying and Dean is Dean again.
He listens to Cas' low grunts as his cock rams him deep in the throat, slurping the vast ropes of precum that trail on and on.
"Ohh, Cas, oh, baby…"
Now the pace increases rapidly. Dean holds Cas' head with one hand firmly and the other smacks onto the cold metal of the car. He fucks into the angel's throat hard, grinding and almost riding him out as his orgasm is close. Even Cas is gripping his own cock over his dark pants. He scratches at the fabric and rubs the hardness beneath.
"CAS! CAS! OH!"
Dean's climax arrives. It throbs and throbs, first deep in his testicles but then it expands out through the shaft and to the tip. All at once his load is released and it is pounded, slammed, and railed into Cas' mouth. The angel takes it happily. Everything softens and Dean nearly collapses.
"Th-that better?" Dean asks in a breathy gasp.
"Yes. I assume you are feeling the same relief?"
"Y-yeah," he nods. His face is bright red but his body feels fine. It's like a hot, sick fever has just been magically removed. "We gotta go…you gonna…unf…gonna stick around?"
"I'm not sure if that is wise," says Cas. He gets to his feet and brushes any dirt or dust off of himself. "I'm not exactly intelligent when the heat picks up."
"Whaddya mean?" Dean asks. They start to walk around to the driver's side again.
"When I am aroused, I stop thinking," Cas explains. "In a way, my mind blanks out. I'm afraid I might make irrational decisions. For instance it was extremely dangerous to perform oral sex acts on you this publically. The lust was so deep that I did not recognize that at the moment."
"Yeah, okay. That makes sense. I get it."
"I will continue searching for a cure, but…Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"If the heat is solved and we are no longer slaves to the addiction, will we still engage in coupling?" Cas throws his question out there while staring at Dean in a sort of desperation. His forehead scrunches up and he doesn't move.
"Yeah, of course," Dean says, nodding. "If I made it this far, I can't turn around. I mean, Cas, I really…" He clears his throat and looks away.
"Yes, Dean?"
"I like fucking you," he adds quickly. "I really like fucking you. But I'll uh, see you later, right?"
"Certainly."
Cas vanishes in an instant and Dean gets back in the car. He sits down and exhales loudly through his mouth, then glances at Sam and startles when he sees him glaring.
"What?" Dean asks.
"You're an idiot," says Sam.
"Oh, that's nice." Dean grunts and starts the engine.
"You think I didn't hear that?"
"Oh," Dean sputters and locks up. He can't even bare to look at Sam now.
"I'm not going to say anything," Sam says. He sighs and folds his arms. "I don't even want to know."
