A/N: Yello! I'm on a roll here, updating every night. I bring you more of "My Angel Valentine"! Which, I'm considering changing the title since Valentine's is over but this apparently is not. Any thoughts on that? Suggestions for titles? I'm always open to what my readers want and think!
So this chapter… well, Dean has some serious thinking to do. And he does. BOY HE DOES.
But I'll leave the dirty little details to later.
And I'd like to dedicate the title of this chapter to a reviewer, Enaid Mora, who's quirky comment on what I hoped was a funny mistake on Dean's part made me laugh my ass off.
"What's up your ass?" "You were. Last night."
Nice one honey!
So, I think we're used to this by now, tally ho!
**SUPERNATURAL, DEAN, CAS, AND EVERYONE ELSE DON'T BELONG TO ME. THEY BELONG TO KRIPKE. I'M ONLY BORROWING THEM FOR MY OWN PLEASURE. WOW, THAT SOUNDED DIRTY**
Dean slammed the door of the motel shut, pacing in anger.
"Is there any way to summon them?"
"No."
"Any way to like, mind control them to come here?"
"Dean, you are starting to spew nonsense."
"You're god damned right I'm 'spewing nonsense'! My little brother was just captured by Gabriel, the Archangel."
"But he does not side with Heaven nor Hell on this matter. Sam will obviously be safe for the time being. Until we have… finished the task he set on hand to us." Castiel replied slowly, as though Dean was a tad slow and needed a detailed explanation.
The Hunter turned to Castiel with a glare, his upper lip curling.
"What motherfucking task at hand Cas?" he spit out.
"Sam told us to, quote, 'work out our problems'." Castiel said, performing an incorrect, one-fingered version of air-quotes. Dean rolled his eyes, throwing his head back in mocking laughter.
"What does that mean?" He retorted back.
"We obviously have some things to deal with, from last night." Castiel attempted to start, moving from his standing position to walk towards Dean.
He grabbed the Hunter's rough hand, awkwardly leading him towards one of the beds; the one Sam should have slept in seeing as the other was fairly… dirty, and sat the man down. Castiel had seen in human interactions as well as the odd television shows that this was an expressed way to talk to someone about past experiences of passion so he felt that he should start here. Dean stared at him like he was wearing a bright pink tutu under his trench coat, and Castiel cleared his throat to begin speaking.
"Dean, about last night—"
"Oh hell Cas! Don't go all chick on me!" roared the other man, trying to pull his wrist away.
"But we must discuss this." Castiel tried to reason.
"There's nothing to discuss! You went all horny bastard on me and we fucked! Doesn't mean shit!" Dean said exasperatedly.
"Intercourse was the key, Dean."
"Key to what?"
"A bond." Castiel gave Dean a grave look, and it sent chills up and down the man's spine. It was like Castiel was going straight into his soul and picking apart the pieces that were guarding his thoughts and actions. And it was pissing him off.
"A bond… for what…?" Dean almost whispered, sitting back down on the bed.
"Angels, being pure beings of energy, do not often partake in sexual acts." Castiel said. "When two angels, or, in our case, an angel and a human, bond sexually, there is another bond that forms. One that cannot be broken, diminished, or erased of any kind."
Dean's mouth sat agape, fearing to about fall off of his skull. A bond? SERIOUSLY?
"You're not talking, like, love, or shit, right Cas?" Dean asked frantically, laughing to try and alleviate the pressure in his ribcage.
"Love is what humans call it, I believe so."
Dean started laughing more, standing up and backing away from Castiel like he had been infected with some disease; like the Croatoan virus or something.
"But… Cas, I'm not GAY."
Castiel stared at him long and hard, and Dean had that snaking suspicion the angel was trying to gain access into his mind.
"Gay, as in the term for happiness?" he finally asked, cocking his head to the side.
Dean almost let out an audible sigh of relief.
"No Cas, gay as in liking guys. Doing guys for the hell of it. That isn't me. I'm straight. I go for chicks, not dudes." Dean explained, rolling his eyes slightly. Castiel was so think-headed sometimes!
The Angel's frown increased. If Dean could see what he was thinking, he would have been assaulted by images of hot 'n sweaty man-sex that had just taken place the night before. Castiel was mulling over these memories quickly, ignoring the strange tingling feeling they gave his nether regions.
"But, we performed intercourse." Castiel tried to explain again, but Dean waved him off.
"Dude, other dudes jack each other off all the time. We just… went a little bit more on the awkward scale is all."
The Angel stood, brushing some invisible dirt specks off of his coat, and walked towards the Winchester. Dean tensed when light fingers brushed his shoulder and Castiel's voice sounded grave, graver than usual, and almost… depressed.
"Then I have much to think about."
And before Dean could turn around the sensation of Castiel's fingers was gone from his skin and Castiel along with it.
Dean fell atop Sam's bed, the bed springs groaning in resistance. He stared at the ceiling without really seeing it; his green eyes glazed over in serious thought.
What the hell was going on? Castiel got shot by a Cupid and made him go all psycho-molester on Dean. End of story. The fricking 'bond' nonsense he was spouting was just a load of complete bullcrap. Dean scoffed internally. He wasn't gay! He enjoyed getting as many women as he could! He was the best at it too! So… why was Cas confusing him so fucking much?
"Stupid angel." Dean grumbled, turning on the sheets to lie on his side.
Something must be seriously wrong with him, if he was thinking about Castiel like that. It was gross anyway!
Dean bit his lip angrily, taking the pillow from underneath his head and throwing it across the room. It landed with a soft thump on the wall, falling to the table where Sam had his laptop and Dean had left a bottle of beer the night before.
The night before… Dean could still feel Castiel's fingers on his lips. It should have grossed him out, but for some reason it only made him feel the urge to touch them. Like Cas had.
Dean groaned in disgust at himself, but found his fingers were reaching towards his mouth anyway. Once, twice, three times he brushed his bottom lip softly with his middle and pointer fingers, feeling the dry skin there.
He shouldn't be doing this. It was gross. It was stupid. It was pathetic. But it felt so good.
Dean added pressure to his digits, forcing them to pry his lips open ever-so-slightly. He gulped, flicking his tongue out tentatively to taste them. They were salty with his sweat; hell, why wouldn't they be, he was nervous as fuck. He licked the tip of his pointer finger nervously, finding no harm in doing it, and decided to be bolder. He closed his murky eyes slowly, watching as the world went from pale motel colors to pure black with odd flashes of white and other unidentifiable colors that flicked behind his eyelids.
Suddenly, the taste upon his mouth was completely different, but still familiar. His fingers tasted like Cas's. Dean's eyes shot open faster than a bullet, but when he looked around no one was there, and the taste was gone. Realizing it must have been his imagination, the Winchester lost himself in the world of darkness and odd lights again, finding that when everything went to black the taste upon his tongue came back with it.
Without thinking, the man probed his fingers deeper into his hot mouth, adding a third one, just like Castiel had last night, and sucked on them. Slowly and gently at first he started, but then as the familiar tastes began to overwhelm him be became faster in his ministrations. His fingers were knuckle-deep into his mouth, and as saliva coated them warmly Dean felt an odd sensation starting in his legs and going upward. He peeked open behind a few eyelashes, fearful that the taste would disappear again, and found that his jeans had become tighter than usual; tented in just the right spot.
Groaning softly at how pathetic he must look and sound, Dean moved his other hand down slowly; watching as it shook with fear and most of all hesitation. Not stopping with the pleasure being given to his taste buds, Dean fumbled with undoing his jean button, finally yanking it undone and pulling down his zipper hastily. A sense of sudden fear overtook him.
What was he doing? Masturbating at the thought of Castiel? His Angel?
… His Angel. Castiel was his angel.
Going over the edge with this thought, Dean found that he couldn't have been able to stop if he wanted to. Images of last night flooded through his mind like an erotic tsunami and Dean let out another groan, louder this time, as he plunged his hand into his jeans and past his boxers, grabbing the awakened treasure within. Shivers of feeling overtook his body as he rubbed his aching erection, smearing his thumb across the slit and gathering the precum gathering there. He spread it over the head and around the rest of his throbbing desire. Suddenly instead of his thumb it was Castiel's, and Dean let out several shocking gasps as he imagined the Angel's perfect fingers touching him so intimately. Dean's fingers pushed deeper into his throat and he almost gagged, but ended up letting out a keening noise instead. Tears stained his vision, but they weren't in pain or hatred. He found that they were in sadness and longing for the Angel's touch; for the feel of his body meshing with the Hunters so lustfully as they had been last night.
Dean would never admit it aloud, or even to himself, but the previous night had awakened him in a sort. It was some of the best sex he had had in a very long time, and he really wouldn't mind letting it happen again.
Tugging on his cock Dean bucked into his own touch, or, in his head, Castiel's. He could imagine the small and rare smile that graced the angel's lips and then everyone who was blessed enough to see it as it loomed above him.
"I'm here Dean."
"I gripped you tight. I'm gripping you tighter."
Dean groaned again, yanking harder as he felt warmth pooling in his stomach. He pulled the fingers out of his mouth, staring at them through glazed eyes before licking them with vigor, swirling his thick pink muscle around them provocatively.
"Dean…"
"C-Cas…" Dean groaned, a bit louder than he would have wanted, but nothing was stopping him now.
"Dean, come for me."
Even the thought of the Angel saying that to him made Dean hotter than he already was, and suddenly it happened.
Dean didn't even hear as the motel door opened and shut with a click.
"Cas!" Dean cried bucking into his hips as ropes of thick white seed soaked the front of his jeans.
"D-Dean?"
The elder Winchester whipped around incredulously, staring wide-eyed at the matching expression of Sam. He groaned, this time out of anger and frustration, and let his head fall back onto a pillow soaked with sweat and spit.
"Son of a bitch."
A/N: Well, thought I'd entertain everyone with a little Dean/little!Dean (XDD thanks Cassie for that) action before announcing the big news.
With the way this thing in unfolding into my head… this might be 3-4+ more chapters. I'm just… in the ZONE man!
Next chapter is more focused on Sabriel than anything, a flashback to what happened those hours Dean and Cas were… enjoying each other.
So, did I go a bit OOC on Castiel or Dean? Please, let me know! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!