Castiel sucks in a breath when he wakes up, suddenly remembering the previous night's events and slowly opens his eyes. Dean's room is dimly lit, thanks to the heavy curtains around the small basement window, which he doesn't remember being closed last night—he must have passed out before Dean shut them. He turns his head to the side slightly and sees Dean, still asleep and solid beside him. He slowly reaches for the edge of the covers and pulls them off of him, sitting up as lightly as he can. He puts his glasses on and grabs his jeans from the floor, putting his phone into one of the pockets as he pulls them on, and searches for his shirt.
It's too dark for Castiel to see anything resembling his shirt. Dean's room isn't exactly spotless; there's a few piles of clothing throughout the room and Castiel was obviously too busy to notice them last night.
Fuck.Where did Dean throw it?
He doesn't want to wake Dean up; he feels like he's already being disturbing enough by walking around aimlessly throughout Dean's room. He steps on a piece of fabric and he picks it up. It's not his shirt but itisa shirt nonetheless. He pulls it on and tries not to revel in the fact that it's Dean's and it smells like him. He runs a hand through his hair to try and flatten it.
It's no use.
Castiel wraps his hands around the door handle and gently opens the door. He looks back at Dean through the crack as he closes it and makes his way up the stairs as quietly as he can. He glances around and notices the people passed out throughout the basement. He somehow manages to find his shoes in the pile behind the door and he pulls them on inelegantly, nearly tripping when he opens the door.
As he leaves the house, Castiel takes his phone out of his pocket and calls a cab. He gives the address a couple blocks from where he actually is, and starts walking. The morning is cool and damp—the borrowed t-shirt doing nothing for his uncovered arms, and he realizes that he left his coat at the bar. He hopes Gabriel took it home.
It's hardly 7:00 AM and Castiel is so tired that his eyes hurt. He rubs them from beneath his glasses and sighs. He's made it to the place where he needs the cab driver to pick him up. His phone is at 7% and he knows there's no point in wasting it so he stuffs it back into his pocket and waits.
"That'snot your shirt," is the first thing Gabriel says when Castiel walks through the front door. Castiel is still amazed with having the luck of not losing his keys last night. Gabriel is sitting on the couch with his MacBook on his lap.
"I couldn't find mine," Castiel replies simply, as if it's something normal. Maybe it is for some people, but it's definitely not normal for him. He toes his shoes off and walks into the kitchen to grab himself something to drink. He feels like shit, his mouth is so dry that it's hard to speak, and he isbeyondhungry.
"Andwhycouldn't you find it?" Gabriel teases.
Castiel looks over and stares at his brother, frowning. Gabriel knows, he's just being a dick. A sly smile creeps up on Gabriel's face and Castiel rolls his eyes. Cas drinks an entire glass of water before he speaks.
"Maybe because it was dark and I didn't want to cause a scene trying to find it." He places the empty glass in the sink.
"Stop censoring for my sake, Cas." Gabriel's tone suddenly becomes heavier. "What happened last night? I was worried about you."
Castiel sighs and comes around the couch. He sits on the opposite side of Gabriel and rests an ankle over his knee. He picks at a hangnail and frowns again.
"Cas," Gabriel tries again. "What happened?"
"Nothing bad, Gabriel. Seriously. It's fine." Castiel hates when Gabriel gets like this.
"Then why do you look torn up about it?" Gabriel moves closer towards him.
"I don't look torn about it," Castiel says.
"You can't even see your face."
Castiel rolls his eyes.
"Dean and I fooled around last night," he answers. "See? Not a big deal? Are you happy?"
"Was it consensual?' he pauses, "Did you let him?"
Anger flickers across Castiel's face and he stares at his brother.
"Wha—? Gabr—of course it was consensual. Why would you say that?"
"I'm sorry, I just needed to know." Gabriel hesitates and says, "But would you have told me if it wasn't?"
Castiel looks down at his hands and shrugs a shoulder. "I don't know."
"You've got to open up and talk to me about it, Cas." Gabriel is sitting right next to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
Castiel frowns. "There's really nothing that I want to say."
"I think you should."
Castiel rolls his eyes again. "Gabriel, I'm done talking about it—so don't push me."
Gabriel sighs and removes his hand from Castiel's shoulder. Castiel uses this opportunity to get up off the couch.
"Where are you going?" Gabriel asks.
Castiel doesn't even bother turning around to tell him as he walks down the hallway.
"I'm going to bed."
When Castiel wakes up later that day, he feels more tired than he was before he went to sleep. He rolls over and rubs his eyes, his alarm clock reading 2:03 PM. Castiel groans and shoves his head back into his pillow, lying on his stomach. He blindly reaches for his phone on his bedside table and leans up onto his elbows to look at it. He sees a missed text from Inias.
Inias: Hey. How are you feeling? Gabriel texted me when you got home. Is everything okay?(10:49 AM)
Castiel doesn't even want to reply but he knows he should let his best friend know that he's at least not dead. He touches the text box and replies,I'm fine. Just tired.He sends the message and rolls over onto his back, resting his phone on his chest; his eyes finally adjust to the soft light in his room. His phone buzzes and he glances down to unlock it.
Inias: I can imagine.Would you be down to hang out?(2:09 PM)
Castiel: Would it surprise me if you were already here?(2:09 PM)
Not even a minute later, there is a knock on his bedroom door. It opens a crack and Castiel turns his head to see Inias, peeking through at him.
"Hey," Inias says to him.
"Hey," Castiel replies.
"Can I come in?"
Cas nods. Inias opens the door and closes it behind him, walking over and sitting on the edge of Castiel's bed. Castiel sits up and props his pillows behind him to make it more comfortable.
"So," Inias starts. "Gabe sort of filled me in on everyth—don't roll your eyes, okay? Cas, he's worried about you."
"I don't know why," Castiel shrugs.
"Yes, you do. I think he wants you to talk about it."
"I don'tneedto talk about it, Inias. Seriously, I'm fine. It was what's called a one night stand. Shocking, I know—for someone like me to suddenly do."
"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it," Inias argues.
Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose and then decides to cover his face with both hands.
"Inias," he says, muffled behind his hands, "just drop it please."
Cas drags his hands down his face and finds Inias looking at him. He can only hold Inias' stare for so long before he has to look elsewhere. He does not need to talk about what happened, he is fine. That's what he tells himself. It's nothing to worry about.
"Look," Castiel continues. "I know you both mean well when you tell me that I need to talk about it, but I'm fine."
Inias is solemn for a moment, in thought.
"Your actions last night were sporadic, and Gabriel and I feel that it was a reaction to you neglecting the subject."
"Because I won't talk about it."
Inias nods.
"So you think me going home with Dean last night was abadthing?" He expects this much from Gabriel, but from Inias? He huffs out a breath. "Don't you think it could be a sign that I've moved on? That I'm ready to try again?"
Inias looks at his hands. Castiel shoves the covers down and brings his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them, looking at the spaces between his toes.
He continues, getting defensive and angry. "I have spent the better part oftwoyears trying to get over what happened. I could hardly look people straight in the eye without feeling like I was going to implode. Taking a year off university seemed to be the right thing to do, since everyone wouldn't stop talking about it, and now I'm finally getting back into it. And what happened with Dean, I'll admit was spontaneous—but it's the best I've felt ever since that night."
Inias is silent. Castiel doesn't bother looking up, but he knows Inias is looking right at him. He doesn't know if he should keep going, or if he even has anything left in him to continue. He sits there for a few moments to try and calm himself down.
"What happened last night was something I've never done," he says eventually. "And I was scared the majority of the time that I was there. I was surrounded by people that I had never met before—I knew no one. I was terrified something awful was going to happen, but Dean somehow made it all go away." He pauses, "And I'm sorry for worrying you guys last night. That wasn't my intentions."
"Thank you for telling me this, Cas." Inias' voice is soft. "You know I'm always here for you. I always have been. But ever since that night, it's been hard to crack you…to talk to you. I'm sorry that that's what you had to go through these past two years, Cas. I really am. But I can't help you if I don't know—"
"I never asked for your help," Castiel interrupts.
"It's called having people who love you and care for you. It's concept you have yet to understand."
Castiel huffs out a laugh and shrugs in agreement. He looks at Inias and gives him a nonchalant smile.
When he finally feels willing and able, Castiel pushes himself to get up and take a shower. It's later in the afternoon and Inias has long since gone and Castiel is alone. Gabriel is out with a few of his friends, so Castiel takes his time getting out of bed and walks over into his bathroom, squinting when he turns the light on. He rubs his jaw, feeling the stubble prickling against his fingers. He looks at himself in the mirror and sees how tired his eyes look. The bags underneath are dark and his eyes look bleary. He reaches for his electric razor and turns it on. He absentmindedly runs it across his cheeks, along his jaw, and down his neck until it is smooth and he is somewhat satisfied. He rinses the sink out and brushes his teeth before turning the shower on.
As the water runs down his back, he leans into the heat to wash away his last night's events—even though a part of him never wants to forget what happened with Dean Winchester. He somewhat doesn't even believe that it did, but as he runs a hand over his stomach he, he can feel the dry patches of come stuck to the trail of hair above his pelvis. He pushes farther back into the water until it runs down his front and he wipes himself clean. He washes his hair and body, and stands in the water for longer than he needs to. He rests his back against the cold tile.
He eventually turns the water off and grabs a towel, drying most of his body off before stepping out of the shower. He wraps the towel around his waist and pushes his wet hair back from dripping water down his face. He looks at his phone on the counter. 6:34 PM.
He sighs. He wasted away an entire day.
He walks back into his room and dresses himself in baggy sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, sliding his phone into his pocket. When he finally emerges from his bedroom, the apartment is only lit by the low evening sunlight coming from the living room windows. He turns on some of the lights as we walks, and the switches on the TV for sound. He ambles to the kitchen and considers making himself something to eat, since he technically hasn't eaten anything since the bar last night.
His phone buzzes in his pocket.
Gabriel: I'm on my way home. Need me to grab anything for you?(6:41 PM)
He types out his reply.
Castiel: Something greasy, I need something heavier than lettuce.(6:41 PM)
Gabriel: Roger dodger. Lol.(6:42 PM)
Castiel puts his phone back into his pocket and drags his feet into the living room to sit on the couch. He wraps a blanket around his legs and tries to make himself comfortable. He flips through Netflix until he finds something good enough to play in the background. He grabs his sketchbook from off the coffee table and his black micron pens.
He always mindlessly ends up drawing eyes. He starts with the inner corner, stretching the ink up into the lid and back down. He connects the inner corner with the lower lash line and to the outer corner. Drawing in shadows to create depth, he makes the crease above the lid. He switches pens to something smaller to create fine lines and details. Next, he makes with the iris. It's nearly a perfect circle, with the pupil living in the centre; flecks of white act as reflective light, and dance around it. He adds more lines for depth around the eyeball until it almost looks as if it could be curving off the paper.
It's one of Castiel's favourite things to draw.
He works up the paper, drawing in the fine lines of the eyebrow hairs. He crosshatches to create contrast; a straight nose, freckles in constellations spreading across. He makes the next eye and stares at the paper. Even though it's black ink, the eyes could almost be green. Cas squeeze the pen in his hand and shakes his head.
You're not drawing Dean Winchester, he tells himself.
He starts drawing the lips, slightly parted and full. He's so engrossed in his work that he doesn't even hear Gabriel come inside until he's standing right beside him.
"Why are you drawing Dean Winchester?" he asks, a smile in his voice.
Castiel jerks back, slightly jumping at the voice of his brother. He curses under his breath.
"I'm not," he lies.
"Really? 'Cause it sure as hell looks like him." Gabriel plops himself on the couch beside him, holding a brown paper bag. "I brought you food. Thai, like I know you'd want."
Cas' mouth nearly starts drooling at the sight of Gabriel pulling the food out of the bag. He watches as Gabriel sets it on the table and Castiel sits up properly, placing his sketchbook aside.
"This is better than I was expecting," he admits. He grabs a container and opens it to reveal his favourite: Thai chicken. There's a container with rice and another with a salad. Castiel doesn't realize how hungry he really is until he starts to eat.
Gabriel shrugs. "I know my baby bro."
"Don't call me that," Castiel replies between chews.
"Call you what—baby bro? Pfft. I'll call you what I want, Cassie-bear."
Castiel rolls his eyes but decides not to bother arguing about it. He eats his meal in relative silence from his brother, aside from him asking what the fuck Castiel is watching.
"It's a documentary on minimalism," he explains. "It's supposed to help us realize that we don't need all of these things to make us happy. That we only need the bare minimal to survive."
Gabriel makes a face. "Well yeah, the cavemen used the bare minimum and survived but it wasn't easy pickings for them."
Castiel frowns at his brother but continues to eat.
"So," Gabriel says suddenly, picking up Castiel's sketchbook. "Who is this?"
Castiel finishes chewing before he answers, "I don't know, it was just a doodle."
His brother makes a face that readsimpressive, but Cas knows he's doing it to tease him.
There is a stale quality to the air in that moment, and Castiel fears that Gabriel will turn the conversation to where he doesn't want it to go. He finishes his food and throws the containers back into the paper bag before standing up to bring it to the trash. While he's up, he grabs a glass of water and drinks the whole thing at the sink before he fills his glass again.
Gabriel is still looking at the drawing.
"Hey uh, Beneath The Spotlight is playing at the Coppertank Grill on Broadway tonight, you wanna go?" He glances at his phone for the time. "Show starts at 8:30-ish."
Castiel shrugs. "I don't know, I have lots of studio work I need to do. Midterm projects are due the end of next week and I'm not finished my still-life painting. Or the perspective drawing. I have lots on my plate and I really don't need another late night."
"It doesn't have to be a late night—just don't go home with Dean Winchester this time."
Castiel balks at his brother. "Gabriel!"
"What! I'm just saying."
Castiel rolls his eyes.
"Besides," Gabriel continues, wiggling his brows, "Don't you have to a shirt to return?"
Gabriel shoves himself into a booth at the Coppertank Grill and Castiel follows, uninterested. He's holding the shirt he took from Dean's, the folded fabric soft against his fingers.
He is wearing a light blue long sleeved shirt and a pair of jeans. He also didn't care much for his contacts this time, so he's wearing his glasses. The booth they're occupying is straight down the centre of the stage (which isn't much of a stage, but more like the only open area by the bar) and is rapidly becoming smaller with all of the band's instruments and equipment; Castiel can see the drum kit perfectly this time. It makes him uneasy.
What if Dean sees him?
The lights dim and the stage lights up. Castiel can see Adam, Aaron, Benny, Charlie, Jo, and Dean walk out from where he couldn't see them from behind the bar. He stirs in his seat, anxiety bubbling in his stomach.
"You okay?" Gabriel asks, sipping on a beer.
"I'm fine," Castiel lies.
"Do you want a drink?"
"No. I better not this time." He half wishes Inias was here with them, and he considers texting him, but then the band starts playing their firstsong. Dean starts it off with a heavy drum beat that catches the audience's attention, and they instantly start crowding around. Castiel and Gabriel remain in their seats. Adam sings the song and it is upbeat; it has the crowd jumping and singing, "I'm not ready to go!"
By the secondsong, Castiel makes himself comfortable and crosses his arms to lean into the table, taking a sip of his water. He taps his foot to the beat of the song, but isn't quite as present as he wants to be. He faintly hears Adam singing, but he stares at Dean and realizes that Dean is wearinghisshirt from last night. He sucks in a breath as he takes the sight of him in. His dark grey shirt fits tight around Dean's shoulders, but he has it unbuttoned and is wearing a white tank top underneath. Castiel can see the sweat dripping down Dean's neck and it glistens across his chest. He curses the shirt for getting in the way.
"How you doing over there, Romeo?" Castiel hears. He peels his eyes away from Dean to see Gabriel smirking at him.
He rolls his eyes and doesn't reply.
The nextsong, Charlie sings. Castiel really likes Charlie's voice. Adam and Aaron bounce off each other with the guitar riffs, while Benny gives his all with the bass. Jo
"Hey what's up Coppertank Grill!" Adam says into the mic. "We're Beneath The Spotlight!"
The crowd cheers and Gabriel whistles.
"Thank you all for coming out tonight," he continues. "I'm Adam Milligan."
Adam goes on to introduce the rest of the band, saving Dean for last—again. When Dean stands up and waves, his eyes stop on Castiel. A cheeky grin reaches the corner of Dean's mouth and Castiel nearly stops breathing when Dean begins to slowly take offhisshirt, the girls going wild and screaming.
"Dinneranda show!" Adam teases.
Dean takes the shirt and wipes the sweat off of his neck without breaking eye contact with Castiel. He then ties it around his hips and turns to grab a drumstick that had fallen on the floor, and Castiel notices something peeking out from the edges of Dean's tank top as sits back down, ready to start the nextsong. It looks like a piece of a tattoo, but Castiel isn't sure. He squints as he tries to get a better look of it, but it's no use. The song has now started and Dean is in the zone. Adam sings again, but Jo comes in the next verse, and they harmonize perfectly during the chorus.
The band plays some songs from last night, and Castiel figures it's because they only have so many songs, but the next one that Aaronsingsis different from the rest of them. It sets a dark mood, with a grungy melody. The rest of the band sings along in the background, and they blend seamlessly. The crowd cheers loudly when he finishes the song and Castiel claps along with the rest of the audience.
They play a few more songs that Castiel hasn't heard, and they come up to their lastsong. Cas only just realizes that Dean hasn't sung this set yet, and it makes him disheartened.
"We're gonna end this set with another cover, and we want you all singing along with this one—we know you all know it!" Adam yells over everyone. He starts to sing the song and Castiel recognizes it instantly.
"I just want to use your love tonight! I don't want to lose your love tonight!"
When the song ends, the crowd bursts into applause; Castiel and Gabriel cheer along. The band thanks the audience and says their goodbyes. They step off to the side of the stage and find themselves at the bar.
"Well that was a good show," Gabriel mentions as they grab their coats and put them on.
"Yeah, it was," Castiel agrees.
He slides his arms through his jacket and grabs Dean's shirt from the table. He looks around the Grill for Dean but he can't see him. He begins to walk towards the bar but stops when he hears, "I believe that belongs to me."
He spins on his heel to see Dean standing behind him, with his shirt still wrapped around his hips and a cheeky grin on his face. His eyes are bright green and his neck is still sweaty. Castiel swallows.
"Fancy seeing you here," Dean says. "You know, I wasn't expecting you to be here tonight but I'm glad you got to see the show."
Cas knows he's talking about the minor strip tease.
"It was a good show," he replies. "And I thinkthatbelongs to me."
He points to Dean's hips.
Dean smiles and unwraps Castiel's shirt from his hips and hands it to him. Cas takes it and passes Dean's back to him. Dean looks around the Grill.
"I never got your number by the way," Dean mentions as he takes his shirt back, "when you left this morning."
Castiel hesitates. "Yes, I'm sorry I—I left without saying goodbye, I—"
"It's okay man, I don't need excuses," Dean laughs. "I know how it goes. But hey, Benny's having another party tonight again if you want to come."
Castiel glances back at Gabriel who is waiting at their booth still, looking at his phone. He scratches the back of his head and looks back at Dean, who is waiting for an answer.
"I don't know," he says honestly. "I have a lot of stuff I need to catch up on since I spent the day in bed—I didn't get the chance to go to the studio."
Dean waves him off with a casual smile. "No worries. It was nice seeing you."
Castiel nods slowly. "Yeah, you too."
"I'll see you around, Cas."
And with that, Dean walks around him and heads for the door. Castiel tries not to watch him but falters when Dean looks back and gives him a smile and a nod.
Cas and Gabriel ride the elevator back up to the apartment in silence. Castiel taps the side of his thighs with his fingers and stares at the number as it slowly makes its way to the 14th floor. It's nearly 11:00 PM when they get back into the apartment. Castiel throws his jacket over the chair by his desk in his room and sits himself on his bed, rubbing his wrist where he just removed his watch from. Gabriel walks by his room, making his way to his own.
"Sleep tight Cassie-bear," he calls to him.
"You too, Goober," Castiel replies.
Gabriel snorts and shuts his bedroom door.
Castiel undresses himself and throws his clothes into his hamper, the shirt Dean returned to him hanging over the edge. He doesn't bother showering since it had hardly been six hours since he last showered. He brushes his teeth and gets into bed, scrolling through his Facebook feed. He checks his notifications and sees that Inias tagged him in a post a few hours ago.
It's a picture of Dean drumming at the Backstage Lounge from last night, and it makes Castiel stir in his bed. Dean is sweaty and beautiful and Castiel can't stop looking at him. He notices Dean's name tagged in the photo and his clicks on it, finding Dean's personal Facebook page. He sits up in his bed and scrolls through his profile pictures, all of them of him drumming, and all of them beautiful. He hovers his thumb over theAdd as Friendbutton, but thinks better of it. He plugs his phone in before locking it and turning over onto his side.
Castiel lays there for half an hour staring at the hamper in the corner of his room—his shirt hanging over and all Cas can think about is the sweat on Dean's neck and how it currently resides between the threads of his shirt. His throat tightens and he swallows to try and relax himself.Dean slowly taking off his shirt and wiping his sweat glistened neck—Castiel can't stop thinking about it.Dean undressing Cas last night; Dean jacking him; Dean moaning; DeanDeanDean.
Castiel is hard and uncomfortable.
He rolls onto his back and sighs. He stares at the stippled ceiling and tries to think of things to make the growing problem in his pyjama pants go away. He then thinks maybe he should just touch himself and get it over with, but feels as though his hand is inadequate compared to Dean's.
He shoves the covers off of himself and walks to his bathroom; maybe peeing might help. He stands in front of the toilet and tries to e on, he thinks to himself. But it's no use. He tries sitting, leaning himself over but all he can think about is what he could be doing with Deanright nowif he were there.
He stands up and kicks his pyjama pants off, walking over to his closet to grab a pair of jeans. He pulls over a t-shirt and a sweater and puts a pair of socks on. He grabs his coat from his chair and his apartment keys, stuffing them into his pocket. He's about to open his bedroom door before he turns around and grabs his phone from his bedside table.
He doesn't bother waking Gabriel.
He calls a cab on his way to the elevator and only has to wait a few minutes outside before one shows up. He directs the driver, as he can't remember the exact address, but he remembers being on 16th Avenue, and Trimble Street.
He manages to find Benny's house and stops the driver. He pays his fee and steps out. He can hear the music from outside so he knows the party isn't over. It's only midnight. He walks up to the house and knocks on the door. He waits a minute before knocking harder; there's no doorbell.
Suddenly he hears, "Charlie! Can you get the door?"
Within a moment, Castiel can hear footsteps approaching, and a sweep of red hair flashes as Charlie opens the front door.
"Hey Cas!" she greets him with a bright smile.
"Hello Charlie. I hope it's okay that I'm here. Dean invited me earlier and I told him no, but then I changed my mind," he rambles.
She opens the door wider and says, "Come on in!"
"Thank you," he replies. He takes off his shoes, adding them to the pile behind the door and looks around the entry way, his hands in his pockets.
"I think Dean is downstairs." She points behind her as she walks up to the main floor of the bi-level house. She gives him another smile and rounds the corner, leaving Castiel in the porch.
He makes his way down the stairs, and can see the layer of smoke floating around the basement. The bodies move around him and there's significantly more people here tonight than there was last night. It only makes Castiel a little bit anxious. The music is loud and people dance; Castiel walks around them and nearly gets himself impaled by someone playing pool.
"Watch out, man," the guy says.
"Sorry," Castiel apologizes.
He turns and sees Dean leaning back on the couch with a joint between his lips, looking up at him, surprised. His eyes are red rimmed, and dark. The small smile he gives Castiel nearly makes him shiver. Dean exhales and drinks the rest of his beer, then takes another drag..
"Hey Cas," he says gruffly, the joint hanging between his lips. "Why don't you pop a squat?"
"Hello Dean," Castiel replies as he sits in the middle of the couch.
"I'm surprised to see you here." Dean hands him a beer but Castiel declines. Instead, Castiel boldly takes the joint from between Dean's lips and sucks it back, watching Dean lick his lips. "What changed your mind?"
Dean rubs his hands together, not knowing what to do with them.
Castiel blows out smoke, shrugging when he says, "I don't know. I was trying to fall asleep and I couldn't. So here I am."
Dean gives him a cheeky smile and replies, "Couldn't stop thinking about me, hey?"
Castiel doesn't say anything. His only reply is taking another long drag, feeling the heat carry itself down his throat. He flicks the joint into the ashtray and hands it back to Dean.
If he is being honest, he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing.
Dean clears his throat nervously and takes the joint back, looking at Castiel.
"No," Castiel answers finally. "I couldn't."
The music surrounds them but it's like nobody else is in the room. They stare at each other. Castiel leans in a bit, their knees brushing. His heart is racing and he doesn't know what to do, so he slides himself closer to Dean until their sides are flush. He never does things like this, he is never the source of initiation, and it's starting to show. Anxiety bubbles in the back of his throat so he tries to swallow it down.
Dean glances around them and moves his arm so it's resting on the back of the couch. Castiel looks down at Dean's lips and flicks his tongue out. He leans forward, inching towards Dean's lips, but falters when Dean pulls back.
"Woah," Dean says shyly.
Castiel's stomach drops. Fuck.
Dean lowers his voice. "Not out here."
Castiel furrows his brows in confusion and then it suddenly hits him. He freezes where he sits and stares at Dean. Last night, Dean was in control and discrete; he didn't openly touch Cas in places people would notice until they were hidden behind closed doors. Castiel positions himself away from Dean awkwardly and rests his hands in his lap, his eyes following to stare at the floor.
"We can go back to my room," Dean tells him quietly.
Castiel doesn't know whether he's offended or hurt by Dean's neglect to inform him of this newly found information. He almost feels ashamed that Dean could feel embarrassed by him. Scratch that—he's mortified.
"Cas," Dean says. "Cas—can you—can you say something?"
Castiel is still looking at his hands, but finally lifts them to look helplessly at Dean.
Dean looks at him intensely, guilt filling his eyes, and then takes his hand and pulls him up, guiding him past the people throughout the basement and down the hall where he takes him to his room. He turns the light on and shuts the door, making sure to lock it this time. Castiel stands in the middle of Dean's bedroom, his arms hanging by his side. Dean has his back to the door and shame written on his face.
"Well, I feel stupid for coming," Castiel hurriedly utters under his breath.
Dean takes a step closer to him. "No no, don't—don't say that. Look," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I—"
He stops himself. He places his hands on his hips and closes his eyes for a moment.
"I didn't think you would come here tonight. And I just wasn't expecting that to happen but—I'm just—"
"Not out?" Castiel says through his teeth, finishing his sentence for him.
Dean shamefully lowers his head and nods. "Cas I'm—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—out there, I just—" he says.
"I guess you're lucky no one was paying any attention to us, right? God forbid anyone thinks you're afag," Castiel bursts out with a fake laugh. He starts to shake.
Dean quickly closes the space between them with a few strides and places a hand on Castiel's bicep.
"You know that's not what I meant it to look like, okay?" Dean's voice hovers between them.
"Sure as hell looked like that to me. What was that last night then? Just somethingnewyou were trying?"
Dean huffs out a breath of disbelief and lets go of Castiel's arm, walking around him over to his bed to sit down on the edge. He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Look Cas, I really like you and I'm sorry for coming off as an ass out there, but I'm just —I'm…fuck. I'm not ready to let it all out." He drops his hand. "And this is all pretty new to me. Last night was the first time I tried anything with a guy before and—I really liked it…I really likedyou." He pauses. "I don't even know why I'm telling you all this, it's not like it matters."
Castiel is silent. He stares at Dean and immediately feels a sharp pang of embarrassment and guilt over his reaction. He barely knows Dean—he shouldn't have gotten this worked up about it. He sighs and walks over to sit next to Dean. He rubs his own face with his hand and stares at the floor. He feels the heat on his cheeks and hopes that Dean isn't looking at him.
"I'm sorry," Cas finally says. "It was…"
He sighs again, letting his hands fall in his lap, unsure of even what to say.
Dean places a hand on his and Castiel can feel the rough callouses between his thumb and forefinger from his drumsticks.
"I'm sorry if I upset you," Dean softly speaks. He takes his free hand and lifts Castiel's chin to face him. His eyes are soft and warm, the green dulled by the flat yellow light.
Castiel shrugs and gives him a half-assed smile. It's fake but he can see it makes Dean feel better. Dean slowly leans forward and captures Cas' lips with his, pressing gently against him. It makes Castiel stutter a breath, and he almost wants to back away, to leave. Dean is only using him. When he figures out Cas is broken, he'll know what he really wants, and he'll go back to the girls that follow him around. But then Dean opens his mouth and slides his tongue inside and Castiel forgets what he was thinking about.
He grabs at Dean's shirt and pulls him closer, humming into Dean's mouth when Dean pushes him backwards onto the bed. His glasses skew sideways and Castiel pulls them off and places them on the bedside table. He should have worn his contacts.
Dean crawls over him and presses his body down onto Cas and groans. Castiel's head is swimming withstopanddon't stop.And he doesn't know which one to say, but opens his mouth and an incomprehensible sound comes out when Dean starts to palm him from the outside of his jeans.
Even Dean moans at Cas' reaction, his mouth hanging open against Castiel's bottom lip. Fuck, this is a bad idea—but Castiel can't stop himself. Dean tastes like beer and weed, and Castiel breathes him in. He feverishly pulls up Dean's shirt, Dean helping him remove it through the sleeves, and throws it over his shoulders. Dean gets the idea and takes Castiel's sweater and t-shirt off too. They scramble up the bed and take their pants off. Dean quickly hops off the bed and turns off the bedroom light, and switches on his bedside table lamp. He rips the covers open and pulls them nearly off the bed, Castiel flipping onto his back. They still have their boxers on, and Castiel can see Dean's half-hard cock bulging beneath them.
Castiel lies underneath Dean's solid body and writhes as Dean lightly touches him everywhere; his chest, his waist, his swelling cock from the outside of his boxers. They kiss and they breathe the same air. Castiel takes his hand and toys with the band of Dean's boxers. Dean looks at Castiel, his eyes dark and full of want, his lips kiss swollen and red, and Castiel doesn't think he's seen anything hotter. He watches Dean's face as he slips his hand beneath the band and wraps his fingers around Dean's cock. Dean's mouth goes slack and he closes his eyes, his hips dipping into Castiel's hand. Dean shudders a breath and licks his lips. Castiel inches forward and licks Dean's jaw, the stubble rough like sandpaper against his tongue. Dean makes a noise in the back of his throat when Cas tightens his grip and starts moving his hand faster.
Dean's hips stutter and he bites his bottom lip between his teeth and Castiel watches.
"Fuck, Cas. Yeah—like that. Fuck."
Castiel takes his free hand and runs it across Dean's chest, up his neck to hold his jaw, pulling Dean in closer to kiss him. Dean grunts into his mouth. Castiel craves to be touched, his dick aching and throbbing underneath his boxers. Dean presses hard against Castiel and Cas moans as their hips fuse together, electricity binding them. Castiel brings both of his hands up and threads his fingers through Dean's hair. Their tongues slide together and it's wet and somewhat sloppy but Castiel loves it.
He wants to feel every inch of Dean's body with his mouth.
He kisses Dean's open mouth and trails down his jaw, his neck, sucking around his Adam's apple. Dean sucks in a breath when Castiel licks up his collarbone. Cas makes his way down Dean's chest, revelling in the fact that Dean made a high pitched noise when Castiel sucked one of his nipples. Dean's body is sheen with sweat and it makes Castiel's dick twitch as he tastes him.
Castiel is at the band of Dean's boxers, a spot of precome evident in the fabric. He looks up at Dean, who stares back at him—wrecked and beautiful, and Castiel only wants to make him more so. He watches as Dean eyes him, pulling the band down over his cock and Dean's breath quickens. Cas is so close to his dick, he feels scared that he's going fuck it all up. If last night was Dean's first time withanyguy, that means this would be his first blowjob from a guy—which means that Castielcan not fuck this up.
He opens his mouth against the shaft of Dean's cock and licks up the underside, all the way to the head where he wraps his swollen lips around. Dean's mouth hangs open, his eyes shut tight and then he bites his lip again. Castiel sucks him down and Dean nearly jolts at the contact.
"Holy fuck, Cas. Oh god," Dean groans, throwing his head back against his pillow. "Don't fucking stop. Don't—don't stop—fuck."
Castiel tightens his lips and sucks harder, his throat starting to become sore. Dean's body shakes and he makes incoherent noises and Castiel is hot from it. He needs to touch himself, so he ungracefully pulls his boxers down over his ass and jacks himself, all while Dean's cock throbs in his mouth.
It's almost too much.
"Are you—" Dean pants, looking down at him. "Oh fuck—that's so hot."
Castiel hums in agreement and Dean shudders beneath him.
"Cas, I'm—fuck, I'm close." Dean's breathing becomes erratic and his hips start to stutter. Castiel can feel the tension building in his stomach as he nears his own orgasm. He doesn't know if he should pull off Dean. Would Dean think it'd be weird if he swallowed?
"C-Cas I'm—I'm. Fuck!"
Dean's whole body jerks and stills, and he comes down Castiel's throat, hot strips coating the inside of his mouth. Castiel sucks him down and swallows. Dean twitches in overstimulation and heaves out a huge sigh. Castiel pulls off of him and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his other hand still jerking himself lightly.
Dean clears his throat.
"Come here," Dean says, his voice wrecked and hoarse.
Castiel stops touching himself to crawl up Dean's body and hesitates, just shy of his face. Dean is looking at him intensely, and he takes a hand and brushes the side of Cas' face with it. He stares down at Castiel's lips, curious to taste himself. He licks his lips and leans in. Castiel is hesitant, knowing that tasting your own come isn't for everyone. Dean presses his lips against his and kisses him. Castiel opens his mouth and slowly kisses Dean back.
Dean grunts and pulls back, wiping his mouth.
"It's an acquired taste," Castiel says, looking down.
Dean doesn't say anything, but he lifts Cas' chin up and brushes his lips against his. He trails his free hand down Castiel's body, stopping at his pelvis. Dean opens his mouth and closes his eyes, sucking in a deep breath as he begins to kiss him harder. Castiel moans in response.
Dean's hand soon finds Castiel's cock and he jacks him slowly, making Cas writhe above him. He pushes up into Castiel and turns himself over him. Dean groans into Cas' mouth and squeezes him harder.
Castiel's mouth is slack and his eyes roll back, closing, and lost in his pleasure. Dean kisses down Castiel's neck and sucks into his skin, sinking his teeth between the meat of his neck and shoulder. Castiel nearly barks out in pain but finds that he likes it, and his dick twitches in Dean's hand. His body starts to shake and he doesn't control the words coming out of his mouth, but they come in blurts ofyeah—fuck. Dean, fuck don't stop—don't stop.
Dean quickens his pace and Castiel's breath hitches in his throat, and the heat builds fast; he knows he's close. He reaches out for the bedsheets for something to grab and he clenches his fists around the fabric.
"Dean," he shudders.
Dean comes up and kisses him hot and wet, licking his way into Cas' mouth and groaning when he can still taste himself on Castiel's tongue.
"Fuck," Dean says against his mouth. He presses in again and bites at Castiel's bottom lip.
Castiel stutters a moan and jerks, his cock throbbing in Dean's hand, and he comes. His body is tense and sore when he comes down from his orgasm. He collapses into the sheets and melts. Dean reaches over him and hands him a tissue. Castiel cleans himself up and tosses it in the garbage. He throws himself back into the pillow, exhausted. He rests a hand over his face and breathes. He can feel Dean's eyes on him. He slits open his fingers to look at Dean.
"Everything okay?" he asks.
"What—yeah. Yeah, I'm good. I'm fine," Dean answers, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. "That was…that was—wow. Good. It was good."
Cas hums a laugh. "Yeah it was."
He sits up and grabs his glasses from the nightstand and gets out of the bed, walking over to where he discarded his boxers. He pulls them on. Dean watches him as he slips out of his room and over the hallway into the bathroom. He stands in front of the small countertop sink and stares at himself in the mirror, noticing a purple ring forming on his shoulder—the mouth of Dean Winchester.
He takes a piss and washes his hands. He walks back over to Dean's room without looking at the people in the basement, hoping no one sees him. When he opens the door, Dean has his bare back turned towards him, picking up a shirt. Castiel now sees what was hiding underneath his shirt: it is a tattoo of a phoenix spread across his back, the wings stretching up to his shoulders, the colours deep reds and oranges—and it's beautiful.
"That's a nice tattoo," Castiel says as he shuts the door.
"What? Oh—thanks," Dean replies somewhat distantly. It makes Castiel perplexed, as Dean seemed fine only moments ago. Dean doesn't say anything else about the tattoo.
Castiel crosses the floor to Dean's bed and sits on the edge, bending over to pick up his jeans and pulls them on. Dean tosses him his t-shirt and he sits with it in his hands, adjusting the fabric.
He watches as Dean dresses himself, not paying Castiel much attention.
"I should probably go," Cas tells him.
Dean clears his throat and nods, "Okay."
Castiel stands up and hastily pulls his shirt on, and then rubs his palms on his jeans, nervously. He finds his sweater on the floor and puts it on, readjusting it. Dean mindlessly starts picking up dirty laundry off his floor and throwing into his hamper, and it makes the air between them feel cold and distant.
"Uhm, thanks for…tonight," Castiel mumbles.
"Yeah," Dean replies, seemingly uninterested and detached. Did Cas do something wrong?
Castiel hesitates, unsure, wanting to ask—but thinks better of it. He turns and opens the door, leaving Dean behind.
Fuck, he thinks.I fucked up.
He rushes up the stairs and puts his shoes on, leaving without saying goodbye.
When he gets back to his apartment, he showers because it's the only thing that he can think of that'll make him feel better. He washes himself of Dean and the mistake of him going back there. He rubs his eyes and sighs, knowing that he can never go back. When he gets out of the shower, he brushes his teeth and puts on his pyjamas that he left on the bathroom floor earlier. He crawls into his cold and empty bed, ignoring the time on his clock and drifts in and out of a restless sleep.
