I'm so sorry this one was so late. Outdoor track started up, so I was busy with that, as well as this chapter was hard to write for multiple reasons. Remember- if you ever have any questions, it's easiest to reach me on Tumblr :) But, it's the new longest chapter, and there's some sexy dancey stuff, so enjoy!
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Many thanks as always to my amazing beta!
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"Hello, Dean. Sam." Cas greeted, standing up from the stage floor where he had been stretching. Dean could have groaned aloud- of course Crowley would have chosen Cas to be his teacher. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair and gave Cas a small smile, which was returned. The brothers made their way towards the stage, swinging up the side instead of going around to the stairs. Cas stood waiting for them, clad in loose dark pants and a gray t-shirt, shoe-less. It looked… strange, to see him actually fully dressed in real clothes. Ones that didn't look like bad church clothes.
"Hello!" A cheerful call from the back corner of the stage caught the brothers' attentions. Turning his head, Dean actually did groan when he saw Lucifer waving from his perch on top of a chair. And of-fucking-course Crowley would have picked Lucifer to be his other teacher. Already this day was looking like shit.
Frowning, Dean asked, "Okay, no offence," 'Well, maybe a little,' he thought, "but why are you here?" Sam subtly elbowed Dean, but he ignored him, instead watching the snickering blonde with narrowed eyes.
"Because, boys, besides Castiel over here, you'd be hard-pressed to find a better dancer. Anywhere." he replied, still chuckling.
Cas nodded, adding unhelpfully, "It's true. Lucifer is one of our best. Sam couldn't ask for a better tutor."
That made Dean pause, eyes flicking between the two strippers for a moment. "Wait- Sam?" he repeated, turning back to Cas.
Nodding again, the dancer crossed his hands behind his back. "Yes. Lucifer will be teaching Sam, and I will be teaching you." His deep voice was slightly unsure, suddenly wondering if Crowley had been mistaken that Dean would rather learn from him than Lucifer. "Is…that okay?"
Dean let out a breath, crossing his arms. The last thing he wanted was Lucifer spending one-on-one time with his little brother. Looking at the smirking blonde, Dean opened his mouth to say 'No, that's not okay, that guy is the kind of guy you see on To Catch a Predator,', but was overridden by Sam.
"Yes, that's fine." he confirmed, rolling his eyes at his brother's outraged look. He could tell what Dean was thinking, and it irked him. No matter how old he was, Dean would always view him as a little kid who needed to be looked after. He could take care of himself- a single licentious dancer didn't bother him in the slightest. The petty need to prove Dean wrong flared up inside him, and he returned Lucifer's grin.
Lucifer clapped his hands, hopping off of his chair. "Alright then, let's get started. You guys should probably stretch out." He pointed to the ground, waiting.
Sam shrugged off his jacket, tossing it aside, leaving him in just his t-shirt and basketball shorts. Dean reluctantly did the same, grimacing as he slid to the ground. Sam had twisted his arm into wearing an old pair of athletic pants from God knows when, and he had just barely escaped being forced into a pair of shorts. He already missed his jeans.
"Okay, we'll start like this." Cas said, settling on the ground near Dean. His legs were bent out to the sides, the bottoms of his feet pressed together in front of him. His elbows pressed his knees onto the ground, and it looked highly uncomfortable.
Dean maneuvered his legs into position, surprised when they actually went into place. His knees were way up in the air, not touching the ground like the dancer's, but overall it wasn't so bad. "Hey, I think I go- FUCK!" Cas had moved towards him and placed one hand on each of his knees, pressing them down forcefully. Fire was now racing through his hips and groin, and he cursed again as he opened his eyes and saw just how close Cas's face was now to his. There was only about three inches between their noses, and Dean couldn't take his eyes off of that distance. Cas didn't seem to mind, watching Dean steadily and slightly unnervingly. It was unbearably silent, awkward, and painful until Cas finally let go after what felt like a century. Dean gingerly let his legs lie straight in front of him, glaring at Cas as he backed away.
Cas shrugged, his eyes smiling. "The point of stretching is to push your body, so that it is prepared for whatever you do later. You did better than expected." Cas complimented, crossing his legs. Dean snorted and looked over at Sam, preparing to make fun of him for his pain.
However, Sam was doing perfectly fine, pressing his knees by himself until they were almost on the floor. "What the hell?" Dean blurted, confused and a little jealous.
Sam shrugged, an almost shy smile on his face. "Jess likes yoga, and I go with her sometimes." he explained, biting his lips to hide his smirk at the frustration flitting through Dean's eyes.
Lucifer grinned, raising an eyebrow. "You're pretty flexible. That's very good." Dean growled inwardly at the double meaning, but Sam merely shrugged again, letting his legs fall out of the stretch. Sam's nonchalantness with Lucifer's obvious games was really starting to piss Dean off. If Sam was so insistent that he didn't need Dean to watch over him, why was he so eager to just jump into ridiculous situations like this?
Cas coughed slightly, interrupting Dean's angry thoughts. "Alright- next…." He straightened one leg out in front of him, bending the other one in so that his legs made a four. He then bent over, hooking a hand around his outstretched foot, and placing his forehead on his straightened knee. Dean attempted to copy him, just barely managing to touch his foot. Bending over was out of the question.
That is, until Cas came around and pushed on Dean's back, his chest now almost touching his thigh. "Holy SHIT!" he cussed, pain lancing up his back and down his leg. It felt like knives were being dragged across his muscles and tendons from his ankle to his neck, and he'd been stabbed before, so he knew exactly what that felt like. Again, the torture seemed to last for an eternity before Cas finally let up. Dean gratefully snapped back upright, breathing heavily.
"Now the other leg." Cas directed from behind him, still kneeling by Dean's back.
"What?" Dean protested, turning his head around. Cas's head was over his shoulder, the close proximity making the hairs on the back of his neck tickle. His chest was maybe half a foot from Dean's back, and Dean didn't dare move anymore. He could feel Cas's quiet breathes on his ear, and his black hair mingled with Dean's lighter hair. Swallowing, he tried to subtly lean forward, away from the personal-bubble-oblivious-dancer.
"If you don't stretch, you'll pull something, and that will hurt a lot worse, trust me." he countered firmly. There was no sign of an argument in his eyes, and Dean saw that Cas was taking his role as teacher seriously. Heaving a sigh, Dean switched out his legs, stealing a glance at his brother. Sam was bent almost in half, again nearly as stretched out as the two dancers. Muttering curses at Sam under his breath, Dean shook his head and bent and reached for his foot, waiting for the inevitable "help" from Cas.
It continued like this for almost twenty minutes, each new stretch bring a fresh round of pain for Dean, and more praise for Sam. They stretched everything- their shoulders and arms (which weren't actually that bad), their backs (which was hell itself, Dean decided), and- of course- their legs. The entire time, Cas hovered around Dean, his personal space practically eradicated. His breath was always on Dean's neck, or his ear; and his hands were everywhere, pushing and pulling. It was driving Dean up a wall, even more so because he wasn't completely sure that he knew the reason why it did so; he was ready to snap.
Sam and Lucifer seemed to be having a grand old time, with Sam barely needing help at all. Lucifer, of course, still found ways to lay his hands across Sam's shoulders, around his ankle, or on his back. Whenever they weren't scrunched up in pain, Dean was narrowing his eyes at the blonde, sending telepathic death threats across the stage. Unfortunately, Lucifer didn't seem to get any of them, because usually, Dean's threats made even the hardiest of men run to their mommas.
Sam wasn't stupid, and he knew what Lucifer was doing. Dean, he could see, needed the help from Cas. But he was doing fine, and Lucifer was unnecessarily touching him any chance he could. Innocent enough, Lucifer offered compliments and praise for Sam's abilities, always smiling. In truth, Sam didn't mind overly much- he had a feeling this kind of behavior was normal for the blonde dancer. It certainly made things interesting, to say the least.
Finally they were allowed a break, Cas deeming them "as ready as they will ever be". Sam walked over to where Dean was seated on the edge of the stage, swigging from a water bottle. "That sucked." Dean complained, grimacing as he gingerly crossed his legs in front of himself.
Chuckling, Sam took the bottle of water and took a sip. "It wasn't that bad." he countered, laughing again at Dean's glare.
"Maybe for you, Mr. Namaste." he muttered, grabbing the water bottle back petulantly. He stole a glance behind them, where Lucifer was talking animatedly to Cas, who seemed to be only half paying attention. "How much longer do we have?" he asked, bringing has gaze back to his brother.
Glancing at his watch, Sam answered, "Three and a half hours." He bit his lip to hide his grin at Dean's loud groan. "Come one, we should go back over." he prompted, standing up and offering his hand to Dean.
Dean grumbled inaudibly as he got to his feet without the proffered help, sure that tomorrow he wouldn't be able to walk at all. The two ambled back over to their tutors, who were now waiting silently for them. Cas spread his hands, saying, "We've decided on a plan. We'll start with some basic moves on the poles, and after a while, we will switch to other skills."
Leaning forwards, Lucifer raised his finger in the air. "He means things like lap dances." he clarified, a wide grin on his face.
Dean blanched, glancing between the two, trying to see if this was some sort of joke. But from Cas's stoic face, and Lucifer's now-wiggling eyebrows, he realized- with a small amount of dread- that they were serious. His eyes slid over to Sam, and he looked mildly concerned, but that was about it. Running a hand over his face, Dean realized he honestly didn't know what to do. Was he the only one thinking sanely in this situation?
He was as good as stuck in this position, with nowhere really to go. He couldn't just walk out and leave Sam behind, but he just couldn't sit by and watch without doing anything. And if they were supposed to be training for their job…. These thoughts buzzed around his head like pissed off yellow jackets, and he shook his head, trying to dislodge them. "Let's get this started, then." he said gruffly, stalking forward to where Cas was waiting by one of the poles. No one had ever called him a coward.
Castiel nodded and gestured for Dean to follow him to the far left pole. Looking over his shoulder, Castiel saw Dean watching as Lucifer lead Sam to the opposite side of the stage, an arm slung over his shoulder. Castiel inwardly sighed, knowing that Lucifer was only doing these things to purposely pushing Dean's buttons. As per usual. That was one of the only things Lucifer and Gabriel had in common, antagonizing people. That and their dislike for each other.
"Is Lucifer always this… touchy?" Dean asked suddenly, obviously irritated.
Castiel stopped, turning around in front of the pole. He shrugged slightly at the irritation radiating off of Dean. "It depends. Most of the time, he minds his own business. But when the mood strikes him, he is extremely… enthusiastic." He struggled for an explanation for his fellow dancer's erratic behavior.
Dean snorted, shaking his head. "I don't like it." he muttered, crossing his arms in front of him.
Castiel smiled slightly. "I can see that." he remarked. Dean shot him a look with a raised eyebrow, but Castiel merely shrugged again. "There is not much you can do- Lucifer is very persistent. In all his doings." Dean didn't seem to like that either, huffing again as he uncrossed his arms and clenched his fists at his sides.
"Well, let's get started." Castiel directed a moment later. Without waiting for Dean to respond, he turned and gripped the pole, quickly pulling his body up and flipping upside down. He supported his body with just his arms, legs straight up in the air. It was a relatively simple move, one that a beginner could start with. He stayed like that for a couple of seconds, before flipping back right-side up and dropping down to his feet. Dean stared with wide eyes, flicking apprehensively between Castiel and the dully-gleaming pole. His surprised face amused Castiel, and he bit on his tongue to avoid chuckling at Dean. When Dean showed no sign of moving, Castiel prompted, "Start with that." Dean snapped out of his reverie with a sharp blink.
Dean nodded slightly, now looking at the pole with apprehension. He walked forward and hesitantly held onto it, taking a breath. He then hauled himself upwards, relatively easily it seemed. He then slowly lifted his legs, before straightening them out, upside down. He hit the position, and it looked great. After a second or two, he righted himself, dropping back down to the ground. He smiled slightly, some confidence returning to him. "How was that?" he asked.
Grinning again- he seemed to do that a lot around Dean- Castiel nodded. "Very good. You were very controlled, and it's obvious that you have the strength for this. I can tell that you will pick this up fast." Dean's lips twitched, obviously not expecting this level of honesty. Castiel didn't believe in beating around the bush- blunt honesty was always the best course. Dean would come to get used to it, in time.
Brushing Dean's shoulder with his own as he returned to the pole, Castiel once again lifted himself up and turned upside down. This time, however, his arms let go of the pole, so only his legs were holding him up. His arms were held straight out to the sides, unwavering. As he dismounted, he explained, "It's the same move as the last one, but your legs are supporting you this time. Your hands will most likely be up in the air or reaching towards the ground while you do this." Dean nodded, his jaw set with a new determination that Castiel hadn't ever seen before.
Castiel moved away from the pole to give Dean some room. As before, Dean pulled himself up and turned his body upside down just fine. As he let his arms go, however, he immediately slipped a foot down the pole. In his surprise, he loosened his leg muscles, and fell to the ground in a graceless heap. Frowning, Castiel quickly walked forward, hoping he hadn't hurt himself. Just as he reached down to take Dean's shoulder, the latter sat up and shook himself.
"Ow." Dean mumbled, picking himself up off the floor. He winced and rolled his shoulder, but otherwise seemed unhurt. Castiel coughed hard to cover up a laugh, but from Dean's glare, it seemed he didn't do a good enough job. He couldn't help it- watching Dean fall on his head was quite entertaining. "Seriously, Cas? I'm sure you fell a lot when you first started!" Dean protested, but he seemed more amused than angry now.
"Well, yes, but it's quite different when you see someone else do it." Castiel offered, spreading his hands in front of him.
Dean rolled his eyes, a corner of his mouth tilting upwards. "Whatever, Cas." He turned back to the pole, taking hold of it again. This time he managed to stay up on the pole, only sliding a few inches; he was prepared for it this time. He looked slightly proud of himself as he stood back up, and Castiel found he quite enjoyed it. It seemed from his demeanor that Dean didn't get many good things in his life, and to see him somewhat enjoying himself was… refreshing.
"That was good. Now do both of those moves in a row, holding each for five seconds. Do that ten times. Try to keep yourself from sliding." Castiel ordered. Dean nodded, and as he turned back to the pole, Castiel shook his head in wonder, going to sit down a little further down the stage. For someone who had such misgivings about coming here, Dean was doing perfectly well on his first day, and he was remarkably compliant. He had expected more sarcasm, questioning of his rules, or at least some hesitance or fear. This Dean, however, was a perfectly fine student, and he seemed to actually want to learn these moves.
Castiel furrowed his brow slightly- Dean Winchester was completely confusing to him. He always seemed to try and hide his true feelings and thoughts, but when they shone through, that's when he was his best. The closed off, angry Dean that Castiel had been dealing with was not someone that he necessarily liked as much. If only Dean realized that. Perhaps that's why he did it…. Castiel frowned at this thoughts, wishing he knew more about Dean. Maybe in the future, Dean would be willing to talk about his past and himself. Not soon, possibly, but some day.
Castiel watched as Dean held himself upside down, noting with approval that he already looked like he had this move down. His eyes tracked the expanse of muscled stomach uncovered by his shirt and the prominent muscles in his arm. Catching himself staring, he purposefully snapped his eyes to the ground in front of him with a frown. No, it would not be good to submit to those whims, especially with someone like Dean, who was already so unsure about his place here. Besides, Castiel didn't need that kind of… distraction in his life. Didn't want it.
After a few minutes, he lost himself in his thoughts; thoughts of Dean and teaching and dancing and friendship. Losing track of time, he was startled when Dean appeared in front of him, waving a hand right in front of his face. Blinking a few times, he looked up at Dean's amused expression. "What next, Mr. Teacher?" he joked, leaning back on his heels.
Standing up, Castiel glanced over towards the other two. They were still working on the first move, Sam obviously not as immediately comfortable on the pole as Dean. Turning his head back to Dean, he licked his lips before answering. "Next, we'll combine those moves with something else." He crossed over to the pole, Dean following.
Grabbing onto the pole, Castiel lifted himself straight up, explaining as he went. "This is the Backwards Chair." Using just his arms (one bent and one straight), he hung from the pole, legs bent up to his chest, one on either side of the pole. "One of the simplest transitions is the Chair to the Invert." Slowly, he straightened his bent arms, and leaned backwards until he was upside down. He then clenched his legs around the pole before straightening them, letting his torso hang all the way down, until he was back in the original Invert. After a second or two he dropped off of the pole, coming to stand in front of Dean. "Think you can do it?" he asked, studying Dean's wary expression.
As if seeing Castiel staring at him, Dean's jaw tightened. "Yea, it doesn't look too hard." Going to the pole, he lifted himself up, finding the Chair position relatively easily. After a moment, he started to lean backwards, but he leaned too fast, and dropped onto the ground. Castiel winced in sympathy. 'At least he fell on his back instead of his head this time.' he thought.
"Ouch." Dean moaned, sitting up stiffly. "I'm gonna look like a red-headed step child tomorrow." he muttered, standing up.
Castiel tilted his head. "I don't understand that reference."
Dean looked surprised, before ruefully shaking his head, a small grin on his face. "Never mind, Cas."
He returned to the pole, attempting the move again. This time he almost got to the Invert before he fell. "Fuuuuuuuck." he groaned, a hand on his back. "Is this normal? To feel your bones turning to pulp?" Slowly climbing back to his feet, Dean shot a baleful glare at the pole, rubbing gingerly at his back.
Chuckling, which earned him another glare from Dean, Castiel replied, "Yes, for the first week, you will spend a majority of your time on your back." Too late, Castiel realized he probably should have said that a bit differently, as Dean made an odd choking sound. His startled glance landed on Castiel before shooting away again, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink. He coughed once, before turning back to the pole.
"Coulda phrased that better, Cas." Dean mumbled, blowing out a breath. Shaking his head, he returned to practicing, a semi-awkward silence extending between the two. Castiel shook his head, only partly paying attention to Dean. He was annoyed with himself for making Dean upset, but he didn't know how to fix it. He bit his lip slightly, offering a distracted thumbs up as he saw Dean successful achieve the mini routine. While Dean did the move ten times, Castiel tried to think of ways to repair the situation.
Dean finished his set, only having fallen a total of three times. Unfortunately. Cas had yet to think of a way to make sure he hadn't really made Dean upset. As he walked over to where Castiel was seated on the ground, Castiel blurted, "I'm sorry, Dean, for making you uncomfortable earlier." He fixed Dean with a firm stare, willing him to understand.
Closing his eyes, Dean shook his head, a grin working its way onto his face. "Cas, man, just don't even worry about it. It's over with." Dean chuckled, adding, "You gotta lighten up. Seriously."
Castiel nodded, grinning slightly. It seemed he was worrying himself unnecessarily. It was a relief to see Dean finally relaxing and letting his hard and brusque shield down. "Okay, Dean. In that case, we'll go on to the next move. It's called The Chopper." he declared, standing up fluidly and heading back over to the pole.
"Shut up." Sam hissed, frustration getting the better of him. Pole dancing was definitely a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. Maybe it was because he actually had no idea what he was doing, or maybe it was just because these dancers made it all look incredibly easy and natural. Probably a combination of both. He picked himself up off the floor- again- and rolled his throbbing neck. If he walked away without a concussion he'd be shocked.
Looking over at where Dean and Cas were practicing, he scowled to see that Dean was a few moves ahead of him. Of course Dean would pick all of this up easily. The one person who was most reluctant to come and learn this was the one person who learned it the quickest. Typical.
"Come on, try again. You almost had it that time." Lucifer cajoled, once his laughter had died down. It was obvious that he never got tired of watching people- or maybe just Sam- fall. "We're still on beginner moves, and we have a lot to cover." He offered a hand to Sam, and he grudgingly took it, wincing at the protest his back was giving him.
Sighing, he turned back to the pole, attempting the "Fireman Swing" yet again. The trick was loosening his grip enough to spin fluidly around the pole, but not so much that he dropped to the ground. Again. Pulling himself up, he bent his legs around the pole, using a small kick to get momentum to swing his body around. Loosening his grip on the pole by a fraction, he spun around the pole, the friction chafing his hands. After a couple times around the pole, he dropped to the ground, smiling brightly.
Lucifer clapped quietly, if a bit mockingly. "Bravo. Now do that a few more times, just so we're sure that you've got it." he directed. Sam nodded, his usual optimism creeping back in. He could almost feel Lucifer's eyes on him as he practiced, like a spotlight was focused on him. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. Normally, he hated people watching him while he worked, but Lucifer- as much as a sarcastic asshole as he was- wasn't a normal person, he supposed.
Once he successfully did the Swing five times in a row, Lucifer walked over to him, passing him his water bottle. "You know, you really are doing good for your first day." he murmured, actually sincere.
Sam nodded, swallowing his mouthful of water. "Thanks. It's a lot harder than I thought." He grinned lopsidedly, shrugging. "I just hope I don't completely suck." And it was true- he truly wanted to be good at this. So little praise had been given to him in his life that even small bits of it gave him a huge smile.
All his life, no one- except Dean and Jess- expected anything from him. His teachers always thought the worst of him- a kid with a bad home, constantly moving schools: must be a real delinquent. Close family friends- Jo, Ellen, Bobby- they never really thought he'd get away from the "family business". As for his dad, well, let's just say that his dad probably couldn't care less if Sam lived or died. And sure, Dean and Jess were great- they supported and helped him through college and the past few years of his life. But this was his chance to prove that he could do something by himself, just for himself. And he was determined to get it right.
Lucifer laughed, breaking through Sam's internal pep talk. "Sammy, you'll do great. It's your first day- relax." He clapped Sam on the shoulder, leaving it there perhaps a bit longer than necessary. "Besides, that part of practice is over now. Let's head over to the other two and start the fun stuff." His words were accompanied by a wolfish grin, and Sam hesitantly smiled back, not sure of what to expect.
Drifting behind Lucifer as they made their way to the center of the stage, waiting for Dean and Cas to finish the move they were on. Lucifer quietly explained that Dean was, in fact, only two moves ahead of Sam, and that tomorrow he should be able to catch up. Sam nodded absentmindedly, only half paying attention. He was exhausted after hours of practicing, and he was definitely ready to sleep. 'Hopefully I won't doze off waiting here.'
A couple minutes later, Dean and Cas finally made their way over, chuckling together about something. Sam tilted his head, giving his brother a critical look. Surly, angry Dean had left the building, and in his place was happy-go-lucky Dean, who rarely made an appearance, even at home. If Cas had managed to do that in only a couple hours… Sam's lips twitched, and he could see that Dean and Cas had instantly bonded, and that Dean could add one more person to his tiny list of friends. Even if he didn't want to accept or admit it.
Cas cleared his throat, a smile still lingering in his crazy-blue eyes. "So, for the last bit of practice, we'll start teaching you about the one-on-one with the customers. Specifically, lap dances." Dean shot Cas a look from the corner of his eye, and Sam hid his grin behind his hand. He wasn't too nervous about it- what was the worst that could happen? Cas continued, "Dean and I will use that chair, and Sam and Lucifer will use that one." He pointed to two chairs on opposite sides of the stage. "First, Lucifer and I will demonstrate on you, and then you can practice on us."
'Well then…' Stiffening, Sam swallowed, stealing a glance at Dean. He knew his brother would not react well to that. He was right.
It had actually been a lot better than he had expected, but he needed to go home and sleep for a few weeks. He was sore all over, bruised, and exhausted, physically and mentally. He'd had enough for today, but, apparently, it wasn't over yet. Choking violently on the water he was sipping, Dean exploded, "Are you kidding me?", throwing his hands up in the air. "No! I'm not gonna get a lap dance from Cas. It's not gonna happen!" He'd gotten plenty of lap dances before, but they were always from hot women. But to get one from Cas… it didn't seem right. In truth, he was more frightened than furious, though he was a little mad. It seemed like… there was some sort of boundary, an invisible line. It was one thing to swing around a pole for a bit, but this… it made it all too real.
Cas sighed, pleading with Dean with his eyes. "Dean, it is not that big of a deal. It's simply just to teach you the correct and most pleasurable ways of doing this." He said this all matter-of-factly, as if giving instructive lap dances to a guy who was basically a stranger was normal. 'Well, I guess for him, it is normal.'
Groaning, Dean ran a hand down his face. "Cas, it's not that simple. I… I can't do this. It's not… I can't." he stumbled, unable to properly explain. "Why can't you just do it to Lucifer, and we'll watch?" Dean offered. With that, the thought came to him that Sam would then, logically, be getting a lap dance from Lucifer. That just strengthened his resolve.
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Look, Dean. This is the easiest way to do this, and the quickest. We all had to go through this, and we- well, most of us, at least- didn't really enjoy it. You're going to have to do this sooner or later, so why not just get it over with? The sooner you learn, the sooner we can stop with the lessons." For once, his usual joking manner and sarcasm were absent, and in its place was a cold, firm, and unsettling directness.
Dean looked at Sam, who just shrugged, looking uncertain 'So helpful, Sam.' Turning back to Cas, who seemed to just want to get on with it, he still wasn't any more sure. Scrubbing at his jaw, he abruptly turned and threw himself down on the chair that was innocently waiting. "Fine. Whatever. Lay it on me." Clenching his jaw, he saw relief go through Cas's expression as he stepped towards Dean.
Slowly, as though approaching a cornered animal, Cas put one hand on each of Dean's shoulders. He straddled Dean's lap, keeping his weight off of Dean and on his own feet. Dean swallowed, staring hard at a loose thread on Cas's collar. This close, he could smell… Cas, a mixture of old books and earth and fruit. He closed his eyes as Cas started talking, his head a raging whirlwind.
"Never put all of your weight on your client." Cas murmured. "It's almost like you're hovering over them. Keep your moves slow and smooth, working in a circle." Cas's hips began to move in long, slow circles and Jesus fucking Christ he was good at that. Dean lost his track of thought, his eyes popping back open and staring in confusion and surprise at Cas. He tuned back in in time to hear, "…don't actually touch them too much, it distracts too much from the actual movement."
Cas moved seamlessly and gracefully, falling into a rhythm even without any music to hear. He kept barely brushing Dean's legs with his, his ass just inches above Dean's thighs, and Dean was sure his face was as red as a fire engine. His eyes drifted back up to Cas's face, and he was surprised to see nothing but calmness and peace on it. Cas kept instructing, oblivious. "That's just the lower half. Your arms are possibly your greatest asset. Use them to your advantage- these you can use to touch. Like this." Cas moved his hands from Dean's shoulders, running them slowly down and back up his arms. He then moved to Dean's chest, tracing invisible patterns with a feather light touch. "Obviously, for women, it would be slightly different." he murmured, looking down at Dean briefly.
Dean was almost holding his breath, his mind all but turned off. Sure, he'd had plenty of lap dances before, but none like this. None so… intimate, slow, gentle. Heat coursed through him, and his face burned hotter than before. Cas seemed so calm and collected, but he was not playing fair, and Dean didn't know what he was doing. Call him a masochist, but he couldn't find it in himself to make Cas stop. He couldn't find it in himself to want to make him stop, and that scared him more than anything.
"A good thing to do is to pull in close, such as leaning your forehead against theirs, or maybe drop a kiss on the top of their head if you feel that would be best." Luckily Cas didn't feel the need to demonstrate that, or Dean might have actually exploded this time. "You'll have to feel out your customer- mostly, they are here for purely sexual reasons, so things like kisses aren't necessary. However, sometimes, you do actually get lonely people who need contact, and so they will pay more for things like that." Finally, Cas stilled, easily stepping off of Dean.
Dean exhaled enormously, like he had been underwater for the five minutes. He then sucked in air, because he apparently had been holding his breath for a majority of that five minutes. "Okay." he choked out, scrambling to recover. What was wrong with him? Getting that worked up over a lap dance should not have happened, especially from Cas.
'You didn't make him stop. You didn't want him to stop. You liked it.' a treacherous voice in his head taunted. Dean shook his head sharply, dislodging it. He was uncomfortable, that was it. He was not used to this, and he didn't actually know Cas, so of course he would be uneasy doing this. Yea, that was it.
Glancing up, Dean saw that Cas was staring at him, waiting for him to say or do something. "Um… yea, okay. Keep your weight off of them, slow and steady, use your arms, feel out your customer. Got it." he mumbled, standing up.
Cas tilted his head, giving him a searching look. "Are you alright, Dean?" he asked, taking a step forward.
Dean nodded, saying, "Yea, yea, I'm fine. Just peachy. Is that it?" He winced, realizing that he sounded a bit rude.
Furrowing his brow, Cas answered, "You should start practicing that while you are here." He passed Dean and sat down in the chair, gesturing for Dean to get started.
Dean's mouth fell open, and he shook his head emphatically. "Dude, no. I can't do all that. Besides, i-if you said I have to feel out each customer, then I shouldn't just practice here…." Even before he finished his somewhat-pathetic excuse, he knew that there was no way he could argue with Cas on this. He was firmly set in making sure Dean did this the right way, and from his blank expression, Dean could see he didn't really want to hear Dean's protests.
Cursing quietly, he walked over to Cas, hesitating before placing his hands on his shoulders, like Cas had done. He awkwardly threw a leg over Cas, bending his knees until he was just above Cas's lap. "Okay…." he muttered. He started to move his hips, attempting to copy what Cas had done. To him, it looked completely ridiculous, but Cas was nodding in approval.
"Pretty good, especially with no experience or music." he commented, as calm as always.
Dean muttered inaudibly, inwardly cursing up a storm. This was so not normal. Swallowing, he grit his teeth slightly. "Then… like this?" He let his hands drift down Cas's arms, shoulders to hands. He violently ignored the thoughts like 'His skin is really soft.' and 'Geez, for such a skinny dude, he is jacked.' He forwent the chest touching, feeling like he had really done enough.
Cas nodded again, seeming unperturbed. "Yes, not bad at all." Dean let out a breath, returning his hands to Cas's shoulders. He continued his hip movements, realizing with a bit of shock that he actually had found some sort of rhythm, and it seemed less awkward, less jerky. He then froze, hurriedly throwing his leg off of Cas. Yep, done with that, enough practicing.
Standing up, Cas offered a small, lopsided grin. "Well done. That was very adequate for a beginner." he rumbled, briefly grasping Dean's shoulder.
Dean nodded, feeling like he could breathe easier now. "Yea, well, thanks. You're a pretty good teacher." And he realized that it was true- Cas was patient, calm, and actually happy to be here. As far as teachers go, he's probably one of the best Dean ever had. Not that there was much to compare to….
Cas's grin grew, crinkling his eyes. "Thank you, Dean. That's all for today, you can go if you wish. See you tomorrow."
Dean nodded, walking over to pick up his jacket. As he swung it on, he saw that Sam was done, too, and was just talking to Lucifer. Typical- he was always a chatterbox. Unfortunately for him, Dean wanted to go. Waving at Cas with a genuine smile, Dean hopped off the stage, yelling good-naturedly over his shoulder at Sam to stop gabbing and get going.
As far as first days of stripping went… it coulda been a hell of a lot worse.