Hello again! Here the chapter 7! So, last chapter I promised some lemons, so there they are. Warning: This chapter has adult content. Voyeurism, masturbation. So hope you will enjoy it =)

And many thanks again to my awesome beta Annwyn!


Chapter 7

In which Dean could have won a contest but has to deal with some interior designer's silly idea instead. Meanwhile, Castiel finds out something about himself he never really gave much thoughts about before

Dean was slowly starting to get used to the fact that he was currently in a foreign body. It was still inconvenient sometimes, of course it was, but now the hunter mostly thought about this whole mess as a joke. "If there's any kind of aiming contest, closed eyes and while pissing," he thought, laughing in his mind, "I would surely win". Once or twice curiosity took over the older Winchester and he took a peak. He didn't feel too bad about it either, because, oh come on, guys always feel this kind of urge to compare, and of course Dean often saw other men's cocks, while watching porn. "Sonofabitch!" He thought. "Having something like that in your pants and never put it to use? That should be considered a crime". Now Dean felt it was his duty to try and take Castiel to a brothel again, especially knowing that Jimmy was no longer Castiel's roommate. So, maybe yes, there was something positive in not having Jimmy around anymore.

But, by the end of the third day, he realized that he was wrong. Again. They had moved to yet another town, because Bobby had found a new hunt. Meanwhile, Gabriel and Sam had discovered that the witch was no longer around: she probably knew spells allowing her to travel fast and right now she could be anywhere in the country. Well, to tell the truth she probably could be anywhere in the world.

Dean was actually happy about it. Well, not about the witch's unknown whereabouts obviously, but about having a new job to take care of. He wasn't good at research at all, lacked the patience, so Sam, Gabriel and Bobby were their only hope to locate the bitch (Balthazar said that his schedule was too busy for helping, thank you very much, and that there was no way he would miss his SPA for something so meaningless). Dean just wanted, and needed, to keep himself busy while the others were happily geeking around and that's why, when Bobby called about a new job, Dean didn't even hesitate nor had any second thoughts as he packed his stuff and hit the road. This job was a simple salt and burn after all, he easily could do it alone.

His new motel room wasn't much different from the hundreds of other "lovely" places Dean had already lived in. It looked pretty simple but clean, with wallpapers in a neutral shade of green and furniture made of light fake wood.

It was late in the evening when they arrived, Dean felt tired and just wanted to climb on his bed and sleep till the next morning, but something was disturbing him.

"Man, this stench is killing me," he sighed out loud, "and it doesn't come from the room does it?"

Castiel looked at the hunter, tilting his head. He was sitting on the second bed, flipping the pages of a heavy looking book whose cover was in a miserable state (was it the third book he had been reading? Or maybe the fifth by now?). After spending a moment staring at Dean, he sniffed around the room, moving his head in an attempt to locate the source of the smell. When he finally moved it down, sniffing his own borrowed body, his face gave a jerk before a grimace, definitively suggesting disgust according to Dean, appeared on said face.

The hunter himself didn't have to think very hard about where this smell came from, as he perfectly knew it. It was already his third day without a shower, because he just couldn't bring himself to get one. Every time he dared entering a bathroom, staring at the shower cabin, he found himself turning around and leaving, because he couldn't imagine how he could strip this body and wash it, touching it in non-so appropriate places. And the most frightening was the fact that Dean perfectly knew that sooner or later he will have to do it, before generating a biohazard zone around him.

As for Castiel, he most likely never thought about the whole matter, being an angel he never had to endure petty human annoyances such as sweating and, if he ever had, he probably would have cleaned his body in less than a second, thanks to celestial mojo, not bothering with anything like showers. But now, with his powers gone, he had to experience all the negative sides of being a human.

"Well, I think one more day of hanging back, and the smell will start to kill us," the hunter admitted. "I will go first."

And Dean rose from his bed, took some clean clothes from his duffle before reluctantly moving towards the bathroom.

"Sonofabitch!" He swore when he opened the door to a small room with a sink, a toilet bowl and a shower cabin. "What kind of freak does this?"

A full length mirror was fixed there, in the bright white room, right on one of the walls of the shower cabin.

Castiel's eyes followed Dean on his way to the bathroom. He was new to these human needs. Even two years ago, when he was cut off from heaven, enough of his grace had remained to take care of his body's primal functions. But now, being totally human, the situation was different. Now he had to eat, to breathe, to use bathroom and, as he just found out, to bathe. But unlike Dean, being in someone's else body wasn't that much disturbing for him.

Castiel heard Dean swearing for the next three minutes, before he came rushing from the bathroom. The hunter still had some soap on his head and was trying to clean it with a towel, mumbling something about inconveniences with showering eyes closed.

"Your turn now," he said grumpily. "And try not to watch, all right?"

"Dean," Castiel smiled, "I rebuilt this body cell by cell, I know every freckle on it."

"Dude, just shut up, ok? You're not supposed to say that kind of things out loud!" Dean explained, throwing a pair of clean jeans and a t-shirt at the angel. Then, after a short moment of hesitation, he also fished out a pair of clean boxers from his duffel.

"Don't return it," he said giving his underwear. "Or it should be the underwear I currently wear that I should give to you. Or throw away. Man, it's all so fucked up!"

Castiel nodded, accepting the clothes, but he wasn't entirely sure if the gesture meant he agreed with Dean's words, not simply understanding them. He then stood up and casually walked to the bathroom, which was still heated and filled with steam after Dean's shower.

Castiel never experienced showering but he knew the concept. He undressed himself and step into the cabin, turning the water on. He had to spend some time toying with the lever, adjusting the water temperature, before he could find the one suitable for him and only then he relaxed under the rushing stream.

The feeling was very pleasant. It wasn't like Castiel hadn't been able to explore human's senses before; but he could control them back then, choosing to block them or allowing them to surface, making himself more or less "connected" with his vessel. And if one had the opportunity to repress any uncomfortable sensations, like pain, why not doing it all the time? But right now the tiny shadow left of his grace was totally focused on his body, making him able to feel everything so well, enhancing sensations and sending small electrical charges down his spine.

Castiel took some shower gel and started to rub it on his chest, making mental notes that it was even more pleasant then warm water alone, sliding his hands down a body that should be so well known, but yet discovering some unfamiliar curves of Dean's muscles. Suddenly, when one of his hands reached the stomach of this current vessel, he let out a small whimper. Castiel jerked his hand away, surprised, feeling his heart beating faster in his chest.

The angel gulped. Of course he saw this body before, but touching it this way was something completely new and different. The feelings brought by hands moving on its skin - it was overwhelming.

Castiel wasn't sure what to do. He needed to resume cleaning up, but he couldn't do it without touching himself and the pleasure born out of these simple touches felt wrong somehow. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and decided to give it another try, washing the stomach and the sides of Dean's body. But when his hand reached a lower part, his hips suddenly jerked forward, on their own accord, sending a huge bolt of something warm down to his crouch and yet another whimper came out of his mouth.

Castiel opened his eyes and looked down, and suddenly regretted it, as he saw an already hardening member twitching between his legs. The view made his knees shake, he felt his legs starting to weaken and it was more and more difficult to hold his own weight. Castiel had seen this specific part of Dean's body before, but its current condition was absolutely new to the angel, he didn't expect it to be so baffling. The angel leaned his back against one of the shower cabin's walls, trying to catch his breath and hardly managing. Turning his head, he saw his reflection in the mirror. When he first had entered the shower, the mirror had been weeping with condensed steam, but now water was rushing down its surface, cleaning it and thus showing him so clearly every curve on Dean's body. The face reflected was red because of hot water and embarrassment, showing pupils widened and darkened by lust, nearly hiding all the green of these eyes. Water was flowing down on this face, huge drops caressing his nose and parted lips.

His eyes moved down to Dean's hips. From this angle the erected member looked even more tempting. The angel couldn't tear his gaze away from the sight before him, he knew that he shouldn't look, he tried to turn his head but simply couldn't. On the contrary, the more he looked at Dean's body, the more he realized that he just didn't want to look anywhere else, that looking wasn't enough, that he had a urge to touch, to caress. He knew it would be wrong, not because it was a sin, masturbation wasn't a sin but yet another myth created by humans. It was wrong only because of Dean, the older Winchester for sure wouldn't appreciate it, he would be angry at Castiel and he would be scared of the angel's thoughts towards him, of his new found desires.

"If, of course, he ever finds out. But what if he never will?" Temptation whispered into Castiel's ears.

He shook his head; the idea that he could do this behind Dean's back was even worse that doing this at all. The angel closed his eyes, trying to focus but it didn't help. Nothing could drag him from his thoughts, from the fire raging in his whole body.

"I need to wash it anyway." He thought, reaching for more shower gel with a shaking hand and gathering it on his palm. Slowly, biting his lower lip in a vain attempt to think about something else, he moved his hand down, reaching the erected member.

The touch sent a hundred pleasurable discharges through his spine, right to his brains. He moaned, grateful, in a distant corner of his head, for the sound of running water, as his palm carefully wrapped Dean's cock and slowly started to move. "I will just wash it… just wash," he was whispering to himself, breathing heavily.

But then it became impossible to stop. Castiel opened his eyes again, turning his head towards the mirror, and the sight of Dean slowly working on his erection turned him on even more, albeit a moment ago he thought it would be impossible.

Castiel's second hand started to slide over Dean's whole body, he was imagining that he was touching Dean and was touched by Dean at the same time. The angel had never tried to masturbate before, his first attempt was sloppy, uncertain, but then he figured the exact pressure, steading his pumps in a slow rhythm, squeezing the tip of Dean's penis every time his palm was moving towards it.

Castiel forgot how to breathe. The body he was currently occupying was gasping for air from time to time, as a simple reflex. He closed his eyes, letting his imagination taking over. He could picture Dean here with him, he could see Dean caressing him, kissing him all over his chest, his neck, how his hand would squeeze his ass. But just a small moment and even his imagination started to fade away, as his hand was starting to move faster and faster with every pump. All his brain could do now was only repeating several words: "Dean, please, more, want, good", as a mantra, as a spell which would save his life. Every move of his hand was making him feel good, but something else was building up in him rapidly, he wasn't sure what it was, but somehow knew it was something he would crave for.

At the last moment, before his brain shut off, he managed to catch his wrist with his teeth, to muffle any sound, as he yelled out. Castiel felt something exploding inside, thousands colorful fireworks flashed in his eyes. His back arched, all his muscles cramped in a spasm with something so unbelievably good, so overwhelming that is seemed he could easily die of it. He collapsed on the wet bottom of the shower cabin, breathing hard. His mind was still blank, and for some more time his head wouldn't function properly, but when it started to, panic seized the angel.

What did he just do? He went to shower and ended up self-satisfying, thinking about Dean. Moreover, he did it while possessing the hunter's body. Castiel couldn't deny that he felt affection towards the older Winchester, that this affection was nothing compared to his feelings towards any other being in the world, but he always thought it was because he raised the human from the Hell, because Dean's soul had been touched by his own Grace, because of their profound bond. But wanting... This was something he wouldn't even have dared to think about before.

Castiel was scared. He knew that he had to leave the bathroom and face Dean. He had no idea how he would be able to look into the hunter's eyes now. What if Dean somehow finds out what happened? That he abused his body in this way. What if he had heard the angel's moans even through the walls of the shower cabin and the door of the bathroom, even though the rush of the water?

Castiel looked around: he was still standing on his four, shaking and trying to catch his breath. Thin threads of white cum were slowly drifting towards the drain hole. He looked at his wrist, noticing there a noticeable red print made by his teeth. How will he be able to explain this to Dean?

Castiel was screwed.

Finally he found some strength to stand up. He quickly resumed his washing and went out the shower cabin, drying himself with a towel and then dressed himself in Dean's clothes. Before exiting the small steamy room he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. His eyes already looked normal again, with normal sized pupils, but his face was still flushed red. Well, he could try to pretend it was because of the hot water.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and stepped out the bathroom.

When Castiel found Dean spread on his bed and asleep, he thanked his father. Not that his Father had anything to do with Dean's sleep but mostly as a habit.