"Thank you," says Dean, accepting the clipboard back from an elderly woman pushing a walker. He holds up another completed signature page. Sam gives a thumbs up and Jess smiles at him, though she's busy speaking to a group of students.
"That's three pages for me; one for you," says Dean, walking closer to Sam.
"You're standing too close to me, that's why I'm not getting as many signatures," says Sam. "Excuse me, sir? Sir? Care to sign a petition to save a historical landmark? Sir? SIR!"
"Hey there," says Dean, sliding into a crooked grin as he makes eye contact with a young woman in jeans and a long-sleeved Georgia Bulldogs shirt. She listens intently as Dean explains the petition, before signing with a big smile.
"And that's my personal, um, number," she says, biting her lip.
"Oh, uh, thank you," says Dean. He's still smiling as the girl walks away, glancing back over her shoulder once to flash another flirty grin.
"I think you're drooling," says Sam.
Dean wipes his face immediately-though there's nothing there. "It's about reading people, that's all."
"You haven't said anything about your date last night, but if you're not entering that chick's number into your phone immediately then it must have gone well…"
Dean shrugs. "Something came up, my date didn't show."
"Oh, ouch," says Sam, grinning as a group of women walks past talking quickly and ignoring his puppy eyes and extended petition. "Stood up, you should have called me, I would have walked out to have some drinks with you…"
"I'm a grown ass man, I can have some drinks by myself," says Dean, before pausing to intercept a woman walking a dog. "Excuse me, would you mind signing a petition to stop the decimation of our city's cherished landmarks?"
The woman's happy to sign before continuing her walk.
"I'm gonna walk across the street, I'm tired of you stealing all the signatures," says Sam, just as Jess comes jogging up.
"Another page full for me," says Jess, beaming. She holds up her hand and Sam sighs before giving a begrudged high-five.
"Sam's a sore loser," says Dean, smirking.
"Dean's cheating somehow," says Sam, clutching his clipboard to his chest, "lemme see that sheet, are you just making up names and numbers?"
"I'm offended, really," says Dean.
"Excuse me, sir, would you like to…oh…" Jess drops off abruptly, and both brothers whip their heads around.
"Cas?"
"Hello, Dean," says Castiel. He's wearing a navy suit under his customary trenchcoat and is flanked by a tall man wearing a suit jacket over a tight shirt and smirking in a way that makes Dean uncomfortable.
"Mr. Novak, um, nice to see you again," says Sam, exchanging panicked glances with Jess. "We were just, um…"
"I take it this is the petition you mentioned last night?" asks Castiel, leaning over to glance at the lettering at the top of the petition sheet. "To stop the desecration of historical city monuments?"
"...Last night?" asks Sam.
"We're allowed to voice the concerns of the people," says Dean. "Sam and Jess are helping but it's my idea, besides, we have a bet going on."
"A bet?" asks Castiel.
"Yeah, loser has to go first into the haunted location we're scouting later this week," says Dean, waggling his eyebrows.
"Amazing," says Castiel's friend in a posh accent. "You really are like a Ghostbuster, Cassie's told me so much about you, and your ghost tours. I'm Balthazar."
"You're Bal the builder," says Dean.
"The architect," says Balthazar. "I'm in charge of design and aesthetics, darling, nothing as boring as building."
"Do you mind waiting for me inside?" Castiel asks Balthazar.
Balthazar shrugs and walks toward City Hall's main entrance.
A group of passing students has Sam and Jess rushing over with clipboards, leaving Dean suddenly alone with Castiel.
"I told you last night, and I meant it-I'm not upset that you're collecting signatures," says Castiel, staring at the sidewalk. "I understand you don't want the Marshall House rebuilt. I don't hold that against you. If anything, I admire your perseverance."
"Admire it enough to cancel the project?" asks Dean, raising both eyebrows.
"Dean, how much do you know about Angel Construction?" asks Castiel.
"You mean other than the fact that you guys are trying to turn an authentic, Southern town into some kinda Disney World facade of its former glory?"
"Dean, my Father started this company in hopes of improving peoples' lives," says Castiel. "His vision was to go into cities with failing architecture and rebuild it as beautiful as before. He hated the idea of every city in America being redone in glass and steel.
"My Father stepped away from the company, a couple years back, without any instructions. My brother, Michael, is the acting CEO, my brother Nick runs our largest branch, and they're relying on me."
"You?" asks Dean. "I thought at that speech they said it was your first solo project?"
"It is," says Castiel, frowning. "I'm on a probationary period. If I am able to complete my projects without bringing in negative press or garnering operating losses, I'll be granted more responsibilities within the company. But more than that, I am doing this because I don't want to disappoint my family."
"Having a hard time finding much sympathy for you, Cas," says Dean. "Your company is bad for my company, bottom line."
"I had a good time at the bar last night," says Castiel, watching Dean closely. "Did your date ever contact you about their absence?"
"Uh, yeah," says Dean, glancing around though Sam and Jess are still thoroughly occupied.
"He wasn't injured, was he?" asks Castiel.
"I dunno," says Dean, shrugging with his clipboard. "He only told me that, 'something very important came up' which seems lame. I haven't replied yet."
"Are you going to reply?" asks Castiel.
"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not sure yet," says Dean, resting the clipboard on his hip. "It doesn't feel good to get stood up. And it's all getting a little suspect, I mean, dude's never shown me his face, stands me up on the date, even if I enjoy talking to him maybe he's hiding something-I don't wanna get involved in some kinda Catfish situation."
"This is like a catfish?"
"Nah man, I just mean if they won't meet then maybe it's because they're lying about something," says Dean, scoffing. "Those pictures were a little too good to be true."
"Really?" asks Castiel. It's hard to tell in the harsh midday sun, but it looks like Castiel is blushing. Could he have (correctly) guessed the subject of some of those photographs?
"Yeah, could be any pictures, maybe he found some model's shots on the Internet, I don't know," says Dean. "I wanna see this guy on video, make sure it's the right guy."
"You still want to speak with this person, after they stood you up?" asks Castiel.
"Sure," says Dean, shifting on his feet. "I've been known to miss a date from time to time, it's something that can happen. Don't get me wrong, it sucks, but we have enough of a connection that I'm willing to give it another shot. One more shot, rather."
"That is incredibly understanding of you," says Castiel, his tone all sincerity and his eyes soft.
"Never call me that again," says Dean, shaking his head. "Now listen, if you ain't gonna sign my petition to stop your company…" Castiel's eyebrows fall into a straight line over his eyes, "…right, then, I'm back to work. I'll see you on Wednesday. Bring an extra pair of pants. Ghost hunts can get pretty intense."
Sam and Jess finish with a person right as Castiel rounds the corner into City Hall. "Did you apologize to him?" asks Sam.
"Apologize? Why the hell would I apologize…"
"You attacked him in front of a group of tourists. You called him a douchebag, dude."
"Oh, whatever, water under the bridge," says Dean.
"And what was that about last night, I thought you had a date last night, you said…"
"I know what I said, I told the truth, my date stood me up, but I ran into Cas at Moon River and we had a drink. He's a privileged asshole but he's alright-he's reading Dad's book. I have big plans for our ghost hunt and, just so you know, you're going to go into that place first…"
"Not if I get more signatures than you," says Sam, walking quickly across the street toward a large group of elderly women wearing flamboyant red hats.
Castiel tries to be patient—he focuses on not staring at his phone all day. Hours tick by, and still no message from Dean. From Wayward.
Was it possible Dean was still walking the streets after dark, hounding bar patrons for signatures to block Castiel's company? Was it more likely that Dean's feelings about his missing date had changed since Castiel had spoken with him that afternoon?
The moment Wayward67's name appears on Castiel's screen, he starts to type.
Thursday00: I wanted to apologize, again, for my absence on Saturday.
Wayward67: hey shit happens, if u didn't wanna meet me I assume u wouldn't bother with the apologies so hey no prob
Thursday00: I worried when you did not reply to my message.
Wayward67: nah just busy, that petition I started ain't gonna sign itself, though I'd rather tell u about it in person than on here. Assuming u still wanna meet.
Thursday00: I am still very interested in getting to know you better, but I'm afraid the face to face meeting will need to wait. I'm in the middle of my own rather delicate project.
Castiel frowns at the screen. Maybe he's giving Dean too little credit. Maybe he would accept Castiel's apology if he admitted his cowardly actions on Saturday.
But there was too much at stake.
Dean Winchester was an angry citizen with a grudge against Angel Construction. If Castiel admitted that he was the man from the gay dating app, would Dean use the information to hurt his position in his family company? Everyone in his family knew about his sexual orientation, but they had made it clear that it wasn't a good look for such a conservative Christian company. Would Michael remove him from the project if he began publicly dating a man before he'd proven himself useful to the company?
Castiel wants to trust Dean. He wants to know him better. Surely, good intentions make up for a little moral ambiguity?
Wayward67: so I had an idea
Castiel sits up straighter, staring at his phone. He's not in any position to deny Dean anything, after missing their scheduled date. And thanks to their discussion earlier that day, Castiel knows exactly where this is going.
Wayward67: I don't suppose you have a webcam?
The conversation that afternoon with Dean is forefront in his mind. Dean wants him on video.
Thursday00: There is a camera built into my laptop.
Wayward67: feel like havin some fun? ;)
Thursday00: Would you object to video from the neck down?
Dean had only ever seen him in suits and coats. There was no way he could divine Castiel's physique from their previous encounters. He glances down at the navy suit he's still wearing and jumps into action. Castiel removes his navy jacket and tie, leaving only a generic button-down white shirt.
Wayward67: kinky ;) nah I get it, save something for the first meeting, keep it anonymous, cool with me
Thursday00: It's more of a security issue. There's no way to know when something is being recorded. This protects both of us in case the video becomes illicit in nature.
Wayward67: so ur okay with illicit video calls?
Thursday00: My username is the same on Skype.
Castiel jumps up from the bed and stares across his bedroom. His coat is hung up in the entryway, no risk of identifying himself. A photograph of him and Balthazar in London sits on his desk. Castiel drops the picture flat on its face, hiding the contents.
An incoming message pops onto the screen with a familiar jingle. Castiel stares at the view of his own bedroom and adjusts his posture and computer screen until he's only visible from the neck down. His buttoned shirt and the top of his navy slacks dominate the screen.
Castiel hits accept.
The video starts first. Castiel's own camera becomes a small blip at the corner of the screen. Dean takes over. The faded AC/DC shirt over jeans is familiar. He'd worn the same thing earlier that day, collecting signatures near City Hall. Not there was any reason to doubt Wayward67 was Dean Winchester. Just further confirmation.
"Well, hello, sexy," says Dean, his voice coming through deep and rough on the speakers. Speakers. Castiel should have realized. He sits forward, without leaning into the frame, and quickly selects his microphone to mute it.
I apologize. My computer's microphone doesn't work.
Castiel types his response and then holds up his hands in a sheepish shrug.
"Weak," says Dean, ducking his head slightly as he chuckles. Castiel gets the quickest glimpse of his scruffy chin and smiling lips.
I guess I'll have to type out what I want you to do instead of telling you.
Dean's quiet as he reads over the message then chuckles. "What you want me to do huh?"
Yes.
"Well, I gotta admit, I was hoping to uh, get some confirmation then, that you're the guy in your pictures, but you look pretty good from here," says Dean. On the screen, Dean reaches out toward his own computer and makes some adjustments, the camera angle shifting slightly. "Real good."
That is a fair request; I am happy to oblige.
"Who uses semicolons seriously, what the hell, man," says Dean. He chuckles and Castiel watches the subtle shifts in his shirt as his body moves underneath.
This Dean is so much different than the one he's met several times now. This Dean is quick to laugh, easily charming, flirting even. There's none of the usual hardness, the vicious sarcasm, or cutting looks. Even though Castiel can't see his face, he knows that Dean is smiling-possibly even blushing. He suddenly wants to see it more than anything.
Castiel begins to unbutton his white dress shirt, slowly, fingers lingering before popping the second button open and hovering over the third. He pauses, noting the way Dean leans forward slightly and goes completely silent.
I assume I can show you one thing that would convince you of my identity?
Castiel's fingers return to the next button, toying with it, rubbing it before popping it open. Then the next, hands moving slowly down his chest while keeping his eyes glued to the screen.
"Uh, I mean, I did stare at those pictures quite a bit, so I suppose that could work..." says Dean, his voice strangely tight in a way Castiel's never heard before.
Castiel smirks where the camera doesn't show. He takes his time opening the fully unbuttoned shirt, and slowly shrugging out of it, revealing his tanned chest and stomach. He leans back slightly in his computer chair, elongating his torso to better showcase his physique without being hunched over.
Fingers start at Castiel's breastbone, just at the first dip beginning his abdominals, and slowly drags it way down the center of his stomach.
"Fuck yeah, you look really hot dude..."
Dean's hand flies to his thigh and he squeezes himself through his jeans on the screen where Castiel can see.
Sure fingers rub against the waistband of Castiel's navy slacks.
"You're a dirty tease, you know that?" says Dean.
It's awe-inspiring-the way Dean Winchester sounds breathy and tense. It's so unlike the way he usually sounds when talking to Castiel. Annoyed. Grumpy.
Using only one hand, Castiel pops the button on his slacks then pulls down the thin zipper. He monitors the small picture on the screen, notes the way his black boxer briefs slowly come into focus on the camera. He stands up from his seat, adjusting the laptop to follow him as he does. His stomach flexes and his dress slacks hang loosely on his hips.
"Fuck yeah, show me, baby..."
Castiel turns his entire body and pulls his slacks down just slightly. He can't see the camera anymore, but he hears the breathy exhale from Dean over the speakers.
"There is something so hot about a dude with a stencil above his ass..."
Castiel turns back around and sits back in the chair, adjusting the screen again to ensure his bare chest is on screen and the top of his undone pants bunching around his lap.
This is good enough for identification, yes?
A heavy silence, then an exhaled laugh. "Oh, that's dirty, you are a tease, you are the worst kind of tease..."
What did you think I was going to show?
The lower half of Castiel's head dips slightly into view for a brief moment as he laughs at Dean's growing annoyance.
"You know damn well what I thought you were going to show, whip your dick out..."
How can you really identify me based on my cock, alone? You admitted you received plenty of dick pics from this dating app.
"Sure, but I didn't like, jerk off staring at all of those..."
It's as though the words were dropped into his lap with the weight of a kettlebell. Castiel's groin aches. His cock was already half there from listening to Dean's pleas, but the confession made in such a sincere tone.
Take off your shirt.
"After you just teased me, you're gonna start barking commands? Not sure that's how this works, man," says Dean, his smirk just visible in the top of the screen. He makes an exaggerated show of raising his arms in a stretch, his shirt rising up just enough to show a tantalizing sliver of skin around his middle. "Maybe you should try asking nicer?"
Now.
"Ooh," says Dean, an aborted laugh on his side of the screen, "bossy, I like that."
Of course, he does. Castiel isn't surprised. He uses his hand to make a swishing motion, urging Dean to hurry up.
"Yeah, yeah, okay, I can't make as good of a show as you did but," Dean's voice becomes muffled as he pulls his black shirt over his head, "can't hurt to catch up with you over there."
Dean's chest is amazing. Tan skin and a toned musculature that broadcasts real strength rather than gym maintenance. Just enough softness over muscles to make Castiel's hands itch to touch.
And then at the very edge of his jeans, he spots something frilly peeking out.
Your jeans, too.
"Whoa whoa, hey," says Dean, chuckling under his breath, "you gonna go first again, or what?"
No, types Castiel, sitting closer to the computer as he types, his chest taking up the entire picture, I want you to take off your jeans, leave on those panties I see peeking over the waistband. I want to look at you. I want to see if you're hard.
"You could just ask," says Dean, pointing the camera down. The focus blurs for a moment, and when it returns, sharper than ever, Castiel can clearly see where Dean's cock is hard against his leg and straining in his jeans.
A hand automatically flies to Castiel's crotch. He's aching hard and dying for some kind of friction. He angles his own laptop's built-in camera lower still. Once the frame is centered around his crotch, Castiel puts one hand down the front of his open slacks and briefs, groping himself in a very obvious up and down motion.
The whine that flows through the speakers is a noise Castiel wouldn't have thought possible of Dean Winchester. It's one he now needs to hear again.
Typing one-handed is difficult, but Castiel manages.
Touch yourself. Show me.
"You always this pushy?" asks Dean, his hands on screen undoing his jeans without much flair then pulling them open and wiggling them down his hips slightly. The pair of panties revealed are striped red and black, and the bulge in the front barely contained by the flimsy material. Dean pulls the material impossibly tighter before dipping it down enough to show the head of his cock.
Castiel grabs himself and gives a firm squeeze. He's seen Dean's cock in the pictures he sent, but something about watching him breathe and talk and move. It was real. Dean looked even better live and his cock shone with the first drops of precome.
You look delicious. If I were there, I would be on my knees in a heartbeat. I want to lick up everything leaking from your cock right now. Want to taste you.
Dean's hand went from idly holding his cock in view to stroking immediately. Castiel's eyes followed every movement, the flick of his wrist, the twisting movement, the way he would push down into the base, his other hand coming around to push where his balls were still mostly crammed inside of the panties.
A soft moan translates over the speakers, spiking Castiel's need.
Castiel reached into his briefs and pulled out his hard cock, taking time to pull his balls free as well, laying on the outside of his scrunched up briefs. He runs his fingers lightly along the swollen flesh, enjoying the way Dean's movements remained tight and firm as he watches.
"Fuck," curses Dean, pausing his movements for a moment before he resumes. "It's been so long since I've watched another guy get off in person."
If you wanted to watch me, I would let you. But I would make you sit on your knees in front of me, staring up while I do it. And when I do come, I'm going to paint your chest and make you taste it while it drips down.
Dean whines—he fucking whines like an animal, his wrist moving so quickly it's a blur on the camera, the connection causing the image to stutter and break. "I want that, you can come anywhere on me, I love it."
Come weighing down your lashes? Staining your lips?
"How are you still typing sentences," says Dean, breaking into a moan. The video continues to stutter as he strips his cock, standing in front of the camera. The bad connection makes it impossible to catch the moment when Dean releases all over his stomach. Muscles clench and pearly ropes cling and drip across freckled skin.
You look so sexy when you come. Don't move, I want to admire you while I come.
"You…kinky…bastard," Dean pants and moans, his hand gleaming with excess come. He remains on screen panting and watching while his own come drips forgotten down his abs.
"You really going hard there," says Dean, running his fingers down his chest, toying with the edges of his mess.
Castiel lowers his head enough to show his chin and an obvious nodding motion.
"Yeah you like it," says Dean, the smirk off camera evident in his tone. He purposely pushes his fingers into his dripping come. "Wanna taste this?"
The answer is a gut punch of air leaving Castiel's body. He comes with a strangled cry Dean can't hear. The image of Dean standing in stained panties will likely haunt his every waking thought for the next week.
"Yeah, I'm going to go ahead and agree that we definitely need to meet," says Dean, chuckling warmly to himself. He's back in his chair and cleaning up with a box of tissues.
Castiel smiles as he wipes away the last bits of clinging spunk from between his fingers. He throws away the Kleenex and returns to the keys.
I look forward to meeting with you, face to face. But I'm afraid that day must be delayed slightly. I am currently in the middle of a project that needs more time—extra tweaking.
"Uh, yeah, then, whatever, we can chat and you just, tell me when you're ready?" asks Dean, sounding suddenly less confident than he had even while naked and jerking it on camera.
I look forward to seeing you again, soon.
A/N: Thank you to everyone leaving reviews, you guys really make my week! Next update, Dean leads Castiel on a real ghost hunt.