Wowowow I am SO sorry this took so long. School just ended for me two weeks ago, and I had graduation last week. I got a boyfriend, had track states, had a track banquet, went to graduation rehearsals, etc etc etc. Now I'm at senior beach week, and while others are getting white girl wasted, I am finally updating ^.^

This is unedited because I wanted to get this out to you guys ASAP. So please excuse any mistakes/typos :)

As always, ideas/opinions on ships and plot events are welcome, as is any and all fanart.

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Training was hard. Dean was sore in places he didn't even know he could be sore in, and he found himself using muscles that probably didn't even really exist on a normal person. Each day he went home aching, bruised, and more often than not cranky. Sure, he had known it was going to be difficult, but he definitely wasn't prepared for this. Sam was less vocal about his discomfort, But Dean could see his grimaces and limps around the apartment. The brothers didn't talk about it; didn't even mention it beyond passing the bottles of painkillers.

Even after all of the physical abuse… he found that he was still having fun. No matter how much he complained about the sessions to Sam, or how much he groaned about going, he still couldn't quite quench the little spark of excitement about it. It turned out that he was basically a natural at it, and he was catching on faster than almost anyone else did- Cas himself included. Sam just rolled his eyes at the praise, teasing Dean about being a natural-born stripper, but he, too, was coming along extremely well. Overall, the Winchesters apparently excelled at being dancers. Who would've known?

Crowley had stopped by one of the training sessions- their third one- during their first week, just silently watching in the back. Cas had just given him a nod, and Lucifer had waved childishly, though Dean merely made a face. Of course the Dick in Charge had to come and watch. 'Just when I was starting to enjoy myself a little bit.' He had left about half-way through, the only hint to his feelings a slight smirk on his face. "I think he likes you!" Lucifer had remarked during a water break, causing the brothers to roll their eyes. They didn't really care if Crowley liked them or not.

After the first session, things had progressed steadily. Each day, their tutors would add more moves to their repertoire, getting more and more difficult as time went on. They had kept working at the lap dances, much to Dean's agitation. It was the only part of training that he absolutely hated, even more so because he didn't know why he despised it so much. Sam and Lucifer seemed to be getting along fine, actually seeming to fall into a friendship of some sorts. One that involved a lot of touching and innuendos on the part of a certain blonde.

Cas, on the other hand…. Dean still couldn't figure him out. He was so stiff and controlled all the time. He was socially awkward, oblivious, and severely culturally uneducated. But at the same time, Dean found him easy to talk to, easy to spend time with, and generally a good guy. Cas made the training bearable. He still knew squat about him, but he figured that would come later, after they were done with the teacher-student roles. Because he did want to get to know him, especially if they were going to be working together.

Coming in for training their fifth day- over half way done- Dean already had a small grin on his face. Each day left him with less bruises, less soreness, and more skill than the day before. He couldn't explain it, but for the first time in a long time, he was doing something that he genuinely liked and wanted to do. He understood now where Sam was coming from- it was nice to have control over yourself, even if it was for something as dumb as what they were doing. It had always been listening to his father or watching over Sam; he could barely remember a time before that; before he had his orders and expected behaviors. It was… gratifying, in a way, to get out and do something crazy like this. Especially now that it seemed like everything was working out in their favor.

"How's it hangin', Cas?" Dean called, swinging up onto the stage.

"I'm well, Dean. How are you?" Cas replied stoically, sitting cross-legged on the ground. He gave a small nod, lips quirked up in a faint smile. Dean merely shrugged, shedding his jacket and tossing it to the side. Sam did the same, drifting over to where Lucifer was picking at his nails on his usual perch on the chair.

Walking over to Cas and sliding down to the ground next to him to stretch, Dean asked, "So what's on the agenda today?" He pulled his legs into a butterfly, using his elbows to press his knees downwards, noting with a bit of satisfaction how much more flexible he was already.

Cas answered, "Well, obviously we're going to learn some more moves on the pole. Not too many, because we're going to start learning sequences and some routines instead. The lap dances are coming along well, so we don't have to practice those too much anymore. We'll do a little bit of practice on dancing at the front of the stage; the actual stripping part. That shouldn't take too long, so we might end a bit early today." Shrugging, Cas stood up, brushing off his hands on his pants.

"Cool." Dean replied, switching stretches. Ending early was more than fine with him. "Sam and Lucifer doing the same?" he asked, somewhat curious. He shot a look over his shoulder at the pair, and of course Lucifer was laughing and ruffling Sam's hair, leaving Sam to grin along and bat away the hands while still trying to stretch. Clenching his jaw, he returned his gaze to the concerned look on Cas's face.

"He means no harm." Cas remarked softly. "Don't get so worked up about it. It's all play to Lucifer." God, that was another thing- Cas could see through him as if he was made of glass, or if he had x-ray vision. He always knew what Dean was thinking, and always could pick up on his mood swings. It was equal parts annoying and scary.

Snorting, Dean sat up straight, quickly stretching out his arms. "It still bothers me- he's my kid brother, I'm just used to looking out for him." Cas nodded as though he understood- hell, maybe he did- and waited silently for Dean to finish stretching. It wasn't an awkward silence, though, as most silences were around Cas. It was amiable; there was nothing more that needed to be said. Dean wasn't one for silence, but he couldn't find any reason to complain.

The next hour or two went by quickly, in a flurry of new twists and turns on the pole and new sequences to try. Dean was amazed at how easily and smoothly these moves fit together, and it was a testament to Cas- or maybe the whole team at the club- to how well these routines flowed. On top of that, Dean had never had the best memory, but the way Cas taught him- one move at a time, then two, then four, and so on- just… clicked. Every time he nailed a sequence he was ridiculously proud of himself, even if he didn't show it. From Cas's telltale little smiles, however, Dean guessed he wasn't hiding it too well.

After the next water break, Cas said, "Dean, you did really well today. We'll take a break from the pole and work on your front-of-stage dancing."

Dean decided to wave off the praise, though his cheeks flushed slightly. "Awesome." he responded, getting up and brushing of his legs, wincing as his knees cracked loudly. He still didn't know what exactly this part of training entailed, but it was something new, so it was automatically interesting.

Cas stood off to the side of the pole, in an open space. "Now, most of the things we do on the front of the stage are improv." he began. "You have to go off of the crowd, feel the clients' vibes, and even use your fellow dancers." Dean nodded, only somewhat understanding the "spacey feel-good" explanation. "The goal of this part of your performance is to really tease the customers, to make them want more and return to the club night after night. Also, of course, to get more tip money.

"I'll demonstrate a few moves and sequences for you, and then you'll try to copy them. That's all I can really do; as I said before, it's mostly improv when you're up there." Cas finished, taking a small step back from Dean. Dean watched him, ready to try to imitate the dancer. Once Cas started, however, it was obvious that it would take Dean a long time to get there.

He started with some sort of body roll, after which he immediately started swiveling his hips in ways that really shouldn't have been that distracting. Then his hands joined in, sliding first down his chest and stomach, then back up. He wove his body through the air with precision and talent, making a striptease into its own art; Cas was "stripping" while still managing to turn it into a dance. Luckily he hadn't actually been taking off his clothes, or Dean might have just had an aneurysm.

Even though Cas didn't have a partner or a crowd to go off of, Dean still would have tipped the dancer mad money. He moved to an invisible rhythm, twisting and turning his hips and shoulders licentiously. The hands that danced along his body were equally amazing, sliding down skin and pretending to strip off bits of clothing. And Cas's face… usually it was blank, reserved, and stoic. But with a small smile on his face, his brow relaxed, and his eyes closed, Cas looked more relaxed and carefree than Dean has ever seen him. All together, Cas looked incredible.

After a couple of minutes- Dean had kind of lost track of time- Cas stopped, stepping back away from Dean again. "Okay, now try some of it. It doesn't have to be exact." he instructed. Dean bit his lip, already feeling self-conscious. Closing his eyes, he started to move his body, almost retreating inwards to feel how to move. He didn't try specifically to copy Cas, he just went with however he felt like moving, and damnit it actually felt good. His hips circled and swayed, and he tried to put his hands to good use like he'd seen the other dancers do. It actually wasn't as horrifyingly bad as he thought it was going to be, and as he stopped and opened his eyes to Cas's smirk a few moments later, he felt a thread of warmth burn through him.

"Here, try the roll again." Cas directed, still watching him attentively. Dean tried to do the body roll again and winced. 'Oops.' Even to his untrained eye he knew it looked jerky and generally bad. He turned towards Cas, apologetically lifting his hand. Cas was silent for a couple minutes; long enough for Dean to get fidgety. Just as he was about to check if the dancer had fallen into a coma or something, he finally spoke. "Turn around." He made a little spinning motion with his index finger.

"What?"

"I said turn around, Dean, please."

"Why?" Dean crossed his arm, raising an eyebrow.

Cas shrugged, coming closer to Dean, once again breaking his personal bubble big time. "I'm just going to move your body in the right way. It's not that big of a deal."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at Cas. The dancer had his usual blank look back on his face, so he was virtually unreadable.

Calmly, with his hands raised, he replied, "I'm going to show you how to do a body roll by using my body to move yours. It's an incredibly efficient method, Dean, it's worked plenty of times. Now turn around, please, and we can move on quicker." Now Cas seemed like he was pleading with Dean, which was unusual for him.

Stiffly, Dean turned around, still not completely sure what was going to happen. He shifted his weight nervously, the slight apprehension getting the better of him. Cas stepped behind Dean, one arm crossing over and laying against his chest, the other gripping Dean's left hip. His chest was up against Dean's back, his hips were glued to Dean's, and his mouth was right next to Dean's ear. Dean could feel Cas's steady heartbeat through his back muscles, contrary to the racing of his own heart.

'Okay… not what I was expecting.' Anyone who walked in right now would definitely think there was some butt-fucking about to happen. Relaxing was out of the question, and Dean was so far out of his comfort zone that he couldn't even see the edges of it. If Cas felt awkward about this, he didn't show it, and Dean didn't know if that made this better or worse. Dean could feel his mind going into panic mode, where it usually just shut down and didn't provide any logical thoughts. 'Lovely.'

"First, start at the top." Cas instructed quietly, so close that Dean could feel his hair tickling his cheek and his chin brushing his shoulder. "Lean back…." Applying some pressure to the hand on Dean's chest, Cas tilted Dean's torso backwards, flush against his own. Dean let his body be moved and shifted, his mind not responsive in the slightest. "Then, let the rest of your body follow suit." Using both his hand on Dean's hip and his own hips, Cas slowly moved Dean's body in the correct way. Using his own body as a backboard, Cas put the motion together, squeezing Dean tightly to himself as he smoothly rolled his body from shoulders to hips.

Dean could feel the pure muscle hiding beneath the lithe frame and feel Cas's fingertips lightly pressing into his hip and it was too hot. He was on the verge of hyperventilating, his mind short-circuiting. All that he could register was that Cas's chest was plastered to his back, his hips were fastened to Dean's ass, his hands were all over Dean's front, and everything just smelled like Cas. Heat rushed to his face and his chest as Cas rolled his body along his again, barely comprehending the move. Coherent sentences failed him as he opened his mouth, and he snapped it shut again, closing his eyes and attempting to concentrate on the dance move and the dance move alone. His body was stiff and tense and unable to truly do it, but it was already better than it had been a few minutes ago.

Either completely oblivious to Dean's virtual panic attack, or completely ignoring it, Cas merely said, "And again." And again, holding Dean tight and guiding his body, Cas gently rolled them both in sync, no space between them, efficiently shattering Dean's attempted train of thought. His eyes opened again as Cas's hips moved his own, his soft breathes hitting Dean's ear, his hands and arms spread out and directing his chest and waist. Cas paused after this one, waiting to hear what Dean would have to say, still holding on to him as tightly as before. Taking a moment in a valiant attempt to gather his thoughts, Dean pressed his lips together, altogether ignoring Cas's heartbeat he could still feel through his back.

Treacherous thoughts such as "Holy fuck, no wonder he's a stripper." and "Do it again." trickled through Dean's mind before he slammed a brick wall down on them. Cas was his "teacher", and he was a stripper so of course he would do something like this, and it was probably completely normal, and he was just overreacting. Yea, that was it. With visible effort, he lithely slipped out of Cas's grasp, turning and facing him, willing the heat in his cheeks to die down. "Okay, I think I got it." he forced out. Dean was proud for having his voice almost steady as he spoke, wishing for a jacket of which he could shove his hands into the pockets.

Cas tilted his head, but nodded. "Okay, Dean. Show me, please." He took a step back, and Dean found that that made it somewhat easier to breath. Manhandling his mind into concentrating once again, he attempted to copy what they had just done, starting from his shoulders and sending a wave of movement down to his hips. Throwing a glance at Cas, he saw that there was a hint of a smile flitting on his lips. "See? Better already." he complimented.

Swallowing hard, Dean nodded, attempting to collect himself. With a quick hand gesture to Cas, he walked quickly over to the edge of the stage, sitting down and grabbing his water. As he downed half of the bottle, he resolutely refused to look back at the others on the stage, instead staring out into the empty club. 'Get your shit together, Winchester.'

"Hey, Sam, come over here." Lucifer called over to where Sam was sipping from a water bottle. As he walked closer to the blonde, he continued, "Sit down in the chair. I'm gonna give you another demonstration, show you some new tricks." Smirking, Lucifer gestured grandly to the lone chair, an excited edge showing on his features.

Sam raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. Just minutes ago, Lucifer had been praising his lap dances and telling him how much money he'd make working the floor. Of course, Sam had pretty much figured out what was going on; it was another attempt from Lucifer to get Sam to like him. These seemed to happen a lot, and after a long day it sometimes started to get on Sam's nerves. Glancing over at Dean, who now seemed to be off skulking on the edge of the stage, Sam sighed, shrugging. He walked over to the chair and sunk down onto it, at least glad for the respite it offered his exhausted muscles. "Alright, hit me."

Giving an almost predatory grin, Lucifer ambled over after him, doing an exaggerated arm stretch. Pushing Sam against the back of the chair, Lucifer settled down on his lap, his full weight resting on Sam's legs. Before Sam could voice his questions, Lucifer clapped a hand gently on his mouth, shaking his head with a smirk. Sam frowned, furrowing his brow. Lucifer, wiggling his eyebrows and slowly removing his hand, started his "demonstration"

Sam was almost positive that there wasn't supposed to be this much contact in a lap dance. From glances at Dean and Cas's, and from what Lucifer had originally told and showed him, it was definitely not supposed to be this… up close and personal. Lucifer was going all out, grinding his hips forcefully against Sam's, and running his hands up and down Sam's chest. His hands felt cool where they landed on Sam's skin, and their heads were so close that Sam could count the stubble on Lucifer's jaw.

Leaning forward, Lucifer pressed his chest against Sam's, giving the side of his neck a small nip. Sam jumped, a hand coming up to rub at the spot. Lucifer grabbed the hand, shook his head again, and then bit down gently on Sam's pointer finger. Releasing the hand, Lucifer winked, before quickly turning around, purposefully rolling his hips into Sam's dick. Now the dancer's hands ran lightly down Sam's thighs and back up, teasing. After a few moments Lucifer spun around again, hands moving to Sam's shoulders.

Stunned silence was all that Sam could come up with in response. This was obviously why Lucifer was one of the most popular dancers in the club. His hips moved effortlessly above Sam, following invisible patterns and rhythms and rubbing into Sam's. Hands floated all over him, serving both to distract and overwhelm him. He stared at Lucifer, his mouth slightly open, hands coming up of their own accord to rest just above Lucifer's knees.

Lucifer smirked, bringing his hands up to tangle in Sam's hair. "See, Sam, there's a reason I'm training you." he murmured, not once faltering in his dancing. Sam swallowed, his mind faintly buzzing in the distance. He could feel heat slowly gathering in his abdomen, and he could feel his pulse skyrocket, but he didn't make any move to stop the blonde. This dance was good and he was allowed to enjoy it and there wasn't any harm in it, was there?

Noticing his reaction, Lucifer's smirk grew into a sharp grin. His hips slowed to a stop, coming to a rest on top of Sam's. He grasped Sam's chin in his right hand, turning Sam's head to the side. "I bet you wish you had accepted my dance that night, huh?" Lucifer chuckled. Suddenly, he licked Sam's face from jaw to temple, quickly and roughly. Sam's breath hitched, and choked sounding noise came from his throat. Lucifer snickered deeply, swinging up off of Sam with ease and smoothly walking away.

Sam stayed frozen, mind trying to catch up with his hyperactive body. 'Holy shit.' His cheek tingled, like something cold had been thrown on it. His hands were still lying in front of him, his legs still felt the weight on them, and- if he wasn't mistaken- he was half hard from that. He tried to bring back his thoughts, control his rampaging mind and damnit it shouldn't have been that hard.

A sharp cough made Sam look up from where he was staring off into space. Whipping his head around, he saw Dean glaring daggers at both him and Lucifer. Quickly standing up from his chair while looking down and brushing non-existent dirt off of him, Sam asked, "Time to leave already?" His voice came out sounding unsteady, and he winced, inwardly cursing himself. He threw a glance at his tutor, narrowing his eyes at the smug smile.

Snorting, Dean said, "Yea, now let's go." Shooting one final glare at Lucifer, he hopped off the stage. Sam noticed that he didn't say goodbye to Cas, and he frowned as he looked between to two. Dean had his shoulders hunched a bit as he walked away, and Cas had a grimace on his face. As Sam waved to Cas as he followed after Dean, he tried to figure out what was wrong. Did Dean say something to make Cas angry? 'He has a habit of doing that.'

The longer Sam though about it, however, the more he began to think that maybe Cas had somehow irritated or embarrassed Dean. The two got along like two peas in a pod, and Dean usually wouldn't put his foot in his mouth this soon in knowing someone. But if Cas had done something to ruffle Dean's feathers, then he sure as hell would be pouting right now. He was a baby like that.

Half way back to the apartment, Sam broached the subject. "So… why the cold shoulder towards Cas?"

Dean blinked, glancing over towards him. "What? I'm not giving him the cold shoulder." he protested.

Rolling his eyes, Sam shot back, "Yea, you were. You didn't even say 'bye'."

Glaring out of the windshield, Dean huffed, "Maybe I said it earlier."

"God, you're so full of it. What happened?" Sam pressed, turning and leaning towards Dean in the seat. Now it was incredibly obvious to Sam that his brother had something eating at him. The usual grumpiness was cranked up, and he was evading all of Sam's questions. Tell-tale signs in Sam's book.

"Nothing!" Dean snapped. "I'm fine. Just… a little sore is all."

Sam glared at Dean before crossing his arms and thumping back into his seat. "You're such a liar. And a dick." he muttered.

Snorting, Dean replied, "Whatever, princess." Sam didn't respond, merely glared out of his window some more. Something had upset Dean, and if that messed up their new job, then it was a big problem. He just hoped that Dean would get over his ego soon, or else Sam was going to make him.