This chapter is 100% Destiel fluff and lime, no plot whatsoever. You've been warned! ;-)


Chapter 32

When Castiel finally went to Dean's bedroom after dinner and after speaking with Jody on the phone, making sure that her three girls had arrived safely, it was with a small bag in his hand. It was a bright-coloured package with a fancy ribbon, obviously festive. The hunter was already in his sleepwear, the usual worn out t-shirt and boxers, cleaning and putting in place the tools and knives that decorated the room.

He was trying not to look as if he had been waiting for his angel to come back. He was also failing at it.

"Hey Cas, what you got there?" Dean asked, curious.

"It seems that everyone has already retired until morning, Dean," Castiel answered, fidgeting in the spot and squeezing the small bag in a clearly nervous tic. "It is also past midnight, therefore technically we are already on Christmas Day. It may not be to your knowledge, but in several countries around the world this is actually the moment in which people exchange tokens of affection, the night from 24th to 25th instead of in the morning."

"Dude, you're blabbering," Dean grinned, getting up and setting aside whatever he was polishing. "If you want to do the giving out presents now, I'm ok with that. But I didn't know you got something for me too. You didn't have to bother."

While Dean crouched and retrieved something from under the bed, Castiel couldn't keep the insecurities from showing in his voice.

"It was not a bother," he denied. "However, the... nature of my token is not conventional, and this characteristic only dawned on me after I had already purchased it. I did not want it to become a source of embarrassment for you, Dean, therefore I rather deliver it in private."

The Winchester handed out his own package to the seraph.

"Well, it's not like you don't already know what's mine," Dean smiled sheepishly, rubbing his nape. "But I... uh, I hope you like it."

Castiel left his coloured bag on the desk for the time being, and carefully unwrapped the gift. Just as Dean had commented some time ago, it was a set of pajamas. Standard two pieces, white pants and long-sleeved shirt with printed honeybees.

"Dean, this is so cute!" the angel smiled tenderly, caressing the fabric. "And so soft too!"

"Yeah, I know. Got it 100% cotton. So you like it? Really?"

"Of course I like it. Thank you, Dean. Although I still do not understand why you wanted to give me pajamas. You never explained the reason."

The hunter felt his face warming up just a notch.

"It's because... well, you know, when we're in bed, I... sometimes I want to roll over or something, and since you're above the blanket... I kinda can't, so I thought..."

"Have I been disturbing your sleep, Dean?" Castiel frowned, as if that fact really concerned him.

"No! No, it's not that. But with pajamas, you know... You don't have to be above the blanket. You can get in bed for real, and... all that."

A figurative bulb lighted up in Castiel's brain, finally comprehending what the Righteous Man was struggling to communicate, and couldn't help to smile again.

"I would very much like to cuddle with you under the blanket, Dean."

"Shit, Cas. Don't make it sound so cheesy, like we're in a damn rom-com. This is only for my better sleeping. If you slept, you'd understand."

"I actually understand it very well, Dean," Castiel corrected him beatifically, hugging his treasured new pajamas to his chest. "You are under the erroneous assumption that I do not partake anymore in human activities since I recovered my grace from Metatron, but you are wrong. I find satisfaction in allowing myself to indulge in some of them from time to time, such as enjoying a shower or tasting food. To lie beside you and sleep an hour every night is something that I find very rewarding, both in the sense of resting my body and being close to you."

"Really?" Dean couldn't deny that he was surprised. "Whoa, I didn't know. Good thing you've told me beforehand, or I'd have a heart attack if I woke up and saw you sleeping. I'd think you were dying again."

"Claire had a similar reaction after she asked me why his father's body looked older than when she had seen him for the last time. I had to thoroughly explain to her the many misfortunes this vessel has suffered, and how I sometimes withdraw minutely my grace to let it act as humanly as possible."

"Hum, ok then. Where's my present?" Dean grinned mischievously.

The reminder made Castiel fidgeting again, looking at the desk where he had put it. The hunter arched a brow.

"What's wrong? Isn't it for me?"

"Yes, of course it is for you," Castiel responded, picking up the small bag again but doubting to actually handing it over. "Dean, please, there is something you must understand first. This token has no actual meaning other than my feelings for you, it is not a declaration of intent. I followed a line of thought after unintentionally witnessing an act that I was not invited to, and... at this moment I am beginning to believe that this might be a very unwelcome gift. I do not want to upset you, Dean."

"That was quite a speech, Cas," Dean chuckled. "C'mon, I'm not going to be mad, whatever it is. Just let me see it."

Sighing deeply, Castiel surrendered and handed the festive bag to the hunter. Dean tore open the fancy ribbon and peeked inside. Instantly, air got stuck in his lungs, eyes wide open and cheeks turning warmer by the second. Licking his lips, he slowly took out what was inside.

It was panties. Pink satiny panties. And surely the right size for men.

Before Castiel could start apologizing and trying to explain the reasoning for such a Christmas present, Dean had already fallen backwards on the bed laughing crazily, panties in his fist. Rolling around gripping his stomach and flailing like a fish out of the water, not giving a fuck for whoever he may have woken up. At least this reaction was making the angel a little less worried about the impropriety of his gift.

"Dean, I do not understand," he spoke after the human had calmed down enough. "You were wearing this in that erotic fantasy of yours that I came upon unintentionally, but your behaviour was quite different. I had concluded that you liked them."

"Oh Cas, you poor naive pigeon," Dean chuckled, motioning a hand for the seraph to sit down on the bed with him. "Yes, I like them, but not in the sense that wet dream made you think. Not your fault, though. Considering the subtext (fuck, how much I hate the word), probably anyone would think the same."

"In what sense?"

"The panties, they have a story, Cas," Dean spoke fondly, remembering. "You know, while I was growing up, Dad was obsessed with finding the demon that had killed Mum. We didn't have a lot of money, so our clothes were all cheap stuff. It kept us dressed, but they weren't always comfortable. And then when I was 19, I was about to get laid for the first time with this hot chick, Rhonda Hurley. I mean really get laid, not just a blowjob or other sexy stuff. Also she was 23, an older chick, so I was... I was nervous, ok? And she obviously noticed. She said that I was so worried about making a good impression that I wasn't going to enjoy it, and likely she was right. We were in her room, so Rhonda opened a drawer and threw some pink panties at me, telling me to try them on. At first I was like 'Hell, no!' but she insisted. Either do it, or no fun tonight. So I caved in."

Castiel listened intently, mesmerized by the story.

"It was kinda humiliating, to tell the truth, but after that I was no longer nervous. I mean, I already felt ridiculous, wearing girly pink panties, so it wasn't like I could embarrass myself any more. But the matter was that they were so soft, Cas," Dean sighed. "I had never felt anything so soft against my skin, against my junk. Back then I was already of legal age, so I was able to help Dad in the money department, playing pool in bars and doing random jobs here and there. But until that moment, those panties were the nicest thing I had ever touched. It wasn't even something sexual, they just... felt good."

"I apologize for misinterpreting the meaning that this garment has for you, Dean," Castiel said, disheartened. "It was not my intention to spoil such a clearly important memory for you."

"Hey now, don't make it bigger than it is. They're just a piece of fabric," Dean shook his head, an idea suddenly popping in his mind. "Do you... well, perhaps want me to wear them for you?"

Dean totally did not imagine the sharp inhale that Castiel did, straightening his back even more. Annoying butterflies started to come alive in his belly.

"As I said before, Dean, there was no meaning in my gift other than to please you. I did not hold any expectations."

"Who cares, do you want or not?"

"If... if you are amenable," Castiel gulped, "I certainly would like that very much."

The Winchester nodded slightly, getting up from the bed and taking off his t-shirt. Springing into action, the angel stood up too and turned around, granting his charge some level of privacy that he certainly appreciated, even if he didn't ask for it. That was a part of their relationship that still needed some time and working out.

"Ok, you can look now," Dean said after a moment, trying to sound way more confident than he actually felt. "Well? What do you think? I'm a bit impressed that you got the exact size, I admit."

Castiel was silent for a minute, adoringly observing the form of the Righteous Man and how brightly his soul shone, specially without clothes on his skin. Not that they did much in preventing the angel from gazing upon said soul, but he also liked to count the freckles on Dean's body when he was sleeping, and for that clothes were a real nuisance. At least the panties only hid the minimum for decency, leaving wide expanses of skin to marvel at.

"You are beautiful, Dean. So very beautiful in every aspect," Castiel came closer, raising a hand and caressing Dean's cheek, gently kissing his lips. "But despite that, I now realize how bad of an idea it was to gift you something from your lustful illusion."

"Why?" the hunter asked in a guttural whisper, kissing back.

"I was absolutely sincere before when I said that my gift held no expectations, Dean. However now, seeing you like this... I cannot help but want more."

"It's not bad wanting more, Cas. Actually it's good. The matter is what more you want?"

"Dean, I..." he paused for a second, thinking how to best express his desires. "I would like to perform the same act that I was doing in your dream, when you wore these same panties. Would you allow me, Dean? Please?"

The hunter almost choked, barely believing what the angel was asking of him. That dream... oh, fuck. An awesome wet dream, that one was. He against the wall, Castiel on his knees doing sinful things to his nether regions. But to make it real? He wasn't so sure.

"Do you trust me, Dean?" Castiel uttered earnestly in his ear.

And really, that single question was everything they both needed.

"Yes, Cas."

Dean kissed Castiel passionately, gripping the dark hair through his fingers, devouring the fresh-water tasting mouth and nibbling the plump lips. His other hand sneaked under the angel's shirt, eager to touch skin, but Castiel took it out and instead pushed Dean gently back on the bed. This was his game, not Dean's.

"Make yourself comfortable, Dean."

The hunter did. He breathed deeply, trying to control his rampant heartbeat, knowing that it would only go faster from then onwards if his angel actually followed through his purposed task. Pillow under his head, memory foam mattress under his body... and a hot piece of celestial wavelength above, ready to devour him. Not that he complained, mind you.

Castiel started slowly, not wanting to rush this chance. He kissed Dean again, no tongue this time, before moving to his jaw and ears. He licked the earlobe.

"Cas, what are you doing?" Dean asked, rubbing the angel's shoulder.

"Learning how your erogenous zones work."

"Oh, right." He coughed a little. "You, uh... you may want to move somewhere else, buddy. Ears never did anything for me. In fact it feels sorta weird."

Castiel didn't say anything, but followed the indication and moved to Dean's neck, where he received a better response in the form of a low rumble from his throat. Continuing down, he sowed a line of little kisses across his sternum and chest, before daring a tentative lick to the left nipple.

Dean groaned. Castiel smiled.

While he was busy entertaining the left nipple with his tongue, Castiel placed a hand on the right one and began to tease it with his thumb. Dean bit his lower lip and slightly arched his back, encouraging the loving ministrations. The angel traded after a couple of minutes, licking the right nipple and thumbing the left one.

"Is it good, Dean?" Castiel asked, his breath laboured, trailing kisses down the hunter's navel. "As good as in the dream?"

"Yeah, Cas, it's good." Dean swallowed hard, carding his fingers through his friend's hair. "You're doing fine."

"Mmmm... I like that, when you massage my scalp." Then he abruptly stopped, having reached the elastic band of the panties. "Dean, I may need some guidance for this. I do not want to hurt you."

"Cas, you... are you sure you want to do this? You don't have to, it's ok."

"I do want to pleasure you, Dean. Please. But I did not remain in your erotic fantasy enough time to observe the full process. It is likely that I will result disappointing."

"No way in Hell, Cas," Dean chuckled. "Don't stress yourself, only do what you feel comfortable with. Just... be careful with the teeth."

This was no vain encouragement. Dean was already half hard and tingling just from feeling the seraph's respiration near his dick, celestial hands stroking his thighs. Then Castiel started nuzzling him and providing delicate pecks over the satin to his swollen flesh, making him full hard in no time. When the flushed head of his member couldn't be contained anymore by the notorious tent in the panties, the angel finally pulled them down and set him free, immediately gripping him tight.

Dean wasn't sure if this was a clichéd déjà vu.

"You have a very pretty penis, Dean," Castiel appraised him, squeezing cautiously. "I was very meticulous while rebuilding it, since I knew how important was this part of your body for you, even when I did not understand the urge of fornication."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Cas. Since when are you an expert in cocks?"

"I have seen Jimmy's, naturally. And yours, and the Pizza Man's. But I find yours to be the most appealing one."

Dean hid his face behind his hands, flustered, not knowing how to respond to that. No woman had ever praised him that way. Yeah, the usual strong and hot and big were common, but nobody had ever told him that his dick was pretty. It was strangely endearing.

And then Castiel licked him. Curiously, tentatively, softly his tongue caressed the top of Dean's member. The hunter bit down on his wrist, trying to keep in the lewd gasps that fought to leave his throat.

"Dean..." the angel whined in sorrow, climbing back over him and kissing his cheek. "Don't do that, please. I want to hear you."

"Holy shit, Cas. We're in a hole underground, surrounded by echoing hallways. There's even a grid in the damn door! We don't need to let everyone know that we're doing naughty stuff."

Castiel pondered the fact for a moment and seemed to reach a conclusion. He placed an open hand over the wall and chanted some kind of Enochian spell. A ring of iridescent sigils shone all around in the middle of the walls before disappearing.

"Done. I have thoroughly soundproofed this room, Dean. Nobody will be able to hear anything from outside, unless you purposely intend for your voice to carry or in case of emergency." Castiel cupped lovingly the hunter's face and kissed his forehead, his nose, his mouth. "Will you grant me to hear you now, please?"

Dean didn't think he could deny his angel anything even if he tried. As Castiel returned to his previous post above his cock, warm and wet tongue playfully surveying the field, very obscene sounds cascaded from the Winchester's lips. When the angel first attempted to suck, Dean couldn't help to writhe in pleasure, bending up his knees, toes and hands clenching the sheets.

"You... you feel quite ex-experienced at this, C-cas..."

"I am certainly not," he replied, lapping at the underside of Dean's crown. "But my interest in this ability became exponentially larger after witnessing your dream, so I... I subtracted a cucumber from Sam when he went to get groceries, and I have been practicing a little. Although I must say, Dean, you taste better than the vegetable."

Dean absolutely did not squeak at the mental image of the seraph training his blowing skills for him, thank you very much. It was a long shot from the best blowjob he had ever received, truly speaking, but the innocent exploration and the fervent touches were doing things to him. The hunter didn't dare to calculate how fast he could cum if his best-friend-aka-bed-partner mastered this particular skill on him.

The tip of Castiel's tongue ran over the sensitive millimetre of skin where his shaft joined his sack, and Dean totally felt his bones melting. Castiel arched an eyebrow, clearly noticing the utmost positive reaction, and repeated his last actions in order to find what exactly had pleased so much the Righteous Man. Massaging the scrotum, thumbing the soaking slit, humping the shaft, sucking the head, swallowing down as much as he could, licking the underside... and oh, there it was.

The angel smiled wickedly, apparently having found one of Dean's jackpots, and teased mercilessly the tiny spot. He pressed and caressed it, while twirling his tongue again and again over Dean's glands and sucking randomly. Dean was panting, feeling the warm knot in his lower abdomen growing tenser by the second.

"C-cas... that's e-enough," he gasped, looking down at Castiel and grabbing his hair to get his attention. "I'm on the edge."

"I fully intend to make you cross that edge, Dean."

Oh, shit. He was already stumbling on the verge of losing it just seeing Castiel, an angel of the fucking Lord, blowing him. No, not just any angel but his angel.

Castiel focused back to his task, and the next time he barely grazed the hunter's sensitive point... that was it. Dean lost it, unable to hold in the ecstatic sounds that reverberated across his entire body. He barely had a second of lucidity to push away the seraph's head before the orgasm hit him full force, taking himself in hand and spilling over his navel.

After allowing Dean a couple of minutes of afterglow, Castiel voiced out his confusion.

"I believed it is customary to finish in your partner's mouth."

"First of all, there's no 'customary' in sex, Cas. People do what people like, and if you don't want, then you don't have to," he retorted sluggishly, still breathing hastily. "And second, no way you're going to swallow in your first blowjob without choking yourself, which yeah, so not sexy. That's more practice than a cucumber will ever give you."

"I see. Thank you for looking after me, Dean."

"My pleasure, Cas. And I mean it," Dean grinned predatorily, laughing at his own innuendo. "Do you need help with that?"

"Help with what?"

Dean raised himself up on his elbows, pointedly looking at the angel's crotch, expecting to find... well, a boner. Or at least a semi, some kind of sign that he had been into it as much as Dean, but there was nothing. Not a tent, not even the smallest wet patch of precum.

"What the fuck, Cas," Dean grunted annoyed, sitting up and frowning. "You just blew me, made me cum, and still nothing? Can you even get hard, man?"

Good thing that Castiel had soundproofed the room before, because Dean wasn't sure of being able to contain his frustration. He was starting to feel dirty, as if he had taken advantage of the angel and gave nothing in return, and that was not him. Dean Winchester had always been a generous partner to have some fun with.

"Of course I can get hard, Dean. My body functions correctly and accordingly in every way."

"Then why are you not...?" The hunter flailed a hand towards the obvious lack of arousal in the angel's pants. "Doesn't it mean anything to you what you just did to me?"

"No, it meant a lot to me, Dean! Please, never doubt that," he assured him, pleading blue eyes wide open. "But you know that as an angel, human sensations are more difficult to grasp and filter, even in a vessel."

"But you said that you can restrain the effect of your grace or whatever when you want to feel things," and suddenly Dean realized the implications of that fact, aghast. "Wait a damn... You're doing it on purpose? You're cutting yourself from feeling?"

Castiel looked away, not wanting to face his beloved's fury.

"I was not sure if perceiving physical signs of desire on me would not offend you, Dean," he confessed regretfully.

"Oh, awesome. This just keeps getting better and better," Dean laughed sarcastically, hurt clear in his voice. "You know that's bullshit, Cas. We've been working on this... this relationship between us for months, since our encounter with Ramiel. Don't you think that I had enough time to get used to the idea of you? For fuck's sake, I know what junk you've got in your pants, and if I can deal with it then so can you. Hell, I'm tired of this crap. I'm gonna show you right now."

Dean stood up and put the pink panties back in place, wiping the cum of his belly with a corner of his blanket. Then he grabbed Castiel by the wrist and forced him on his feet too, yanking at his belt buckle to open it.

"Dean, wait. What are you doing?" There was a clear tone of alarm in Castiel's voice.

"Taking off your pants. A handjob? Gonna get you off too."

"That is not... This is not right, Dean." He walked backwards, trying to dissuade the hunter, but only achieved to be pushed against the wall. "Please, listen to me. I do not... DEAN, STOP!"

Not having other option, Castiel took Dean by the shoulders and pushed him away, using only a bit of his angelic strength. The hunter finally stopped and looked up at him, stunned.

"Please stop, Dean," Castiel muttered, raising a hand to keep the human at bay. "This is not right, not like this. I have pleasured you because I wanted to make you feel good, but you... you do not, Dean. You only want to be on par with me, as if you owed me something. That is thinking about yourself, Dean, not about me."

Hearing these words, all fury evaporated from him almost instantly. Castiel saw the exact moment in which an overwhelming shame crept up the Winchester's face.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Cas," he whispered, looking down apologetically. "I don't know what... what I was thinking, treating you like this. I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"Dean," Castiel sighed, going back to him and embracing him tenderly. "It is alright, Dean. I forgive you. You have not harmed me, but I worried for a moment. You do not owe me anything, ever. Do you understand this, Dean? I love you."

Dean hugged him back, slightly trembling in the powerful arms and hiding his face in the crook of the heavenly warrior's neck. Anger gone, the nice sensations from his afterglow were still present, and now a welcome lull was slowly invading his body.

"A day will come when you will be ready, Dean. In heart, body and mind. Do not pressure yourself to hasten it," Castiel murmured in his ear, soothingly rubbing his back. "For tonight, you have already filled me with happiness, Dean. Let's get to bed and rest together."

The Winchester nodded, obedient. For the first time, Castiel used his grace to change clothes in the blink of an eye and wore his new bees-printed pajamas to bed. He proceeded to tuck in the both of them under the blanket, and sighed contentedly as lying down next to his human charge. Lastly, he turned off the lamp and closed his eyes.

"Hey, yesterday you certainly took your sweet time coming back from checking up on the kids," Dean commented in the dark. "What were you doing?"

"They asked me to tell them about angels' wings colours for the sleepover, since I am not proficient as a story-teller."

"Hum, that sounds funny." He scooted closer to the angel, rapidly losing the battle against slumber. "Talk to me too until I fall asleep, Cas."

"As you wish," Castiel smiled. "Uriel had solid orange wings, like a monarch butterfly. Hester's were sunflower yellow, and Inias' intense scarlet like an immaculate ruby. Bartholomew had light green wings, like fresh grass covered in dew, while Malachi's were a deep ochre, like the simoom raging over the dunes. Young Hael had pure magenta wings, like a sunset on the beach. Ambriel's wings were a bit similar to mine, satin black like raven feathers..."

And Dean was already snoring like a bear cub.


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