"Alright, Dean. What is it? C'mon, tell me. Is it the bar fight?"
"No."
Dean's eyes remain locked on the uneaten burger in front of him. He has no idea how long he's been off in his own little world, and he also can't seem to remember how long he's been at the diner, or even when he left the hotel. He just seemed to show up.
He's already had to lie to his brother and tell him that he had gone to the bar to meet up with an old friend and had just accidentally had one too many drinks.
Dean's finding himself falling into space a lot now, since what happened with Cas, and he doesn't choose to, his eyes just kinda get...lost. There's this feeling in the pit of his stomach that wont seem to go away, and now he's debating whether to just move in with his brother for the rest of the week, or ask to transfer hotel rooms.
No, Dean. You're not a pussy. You're not.
"Dean?"
Dean's eyes finally decide to move, and now they're locked hard and solid on his brother's hazel, glassy one's. Sam's not an idiot, and Dean knows that, so he figures he might as well just tell him.
Dean hitches his breath.
But what if he doesn't accept me?
Since Dean's come to terms with himself, he can fully conclude that he's bi-curious. Or at least, he thinks he is. He can accept that, but the question is, can Sam? Even just the thought of losing his brother is painful, and Dean doesn't know what he'd do if Sam left him, all because he likes a guy.
Sam huffs and puts his fork down. "Are you gonna say something, or just stare at me?"
Just do it, Dean. Do it.
"Sam I'm bisexual."
The words come out of his mouth so fast, Dean himself can hardly understand it. He stops breathing, his eyes going wide. He can feel the muscles in his stomach freeze, and for the moment, he's petrified.
Oh shit, what have I done.
He's surely fucked everything up even more now, if it was even remotely possible. He's lost his brothers ring, he's lost Cas, and now, he's most definitely lost Sam. It's hard to look at his brother, but Dean manages to take a quick glance at his face, and the expression on it is unreadable. Dean looks back at his burger, and starts to debate whether he should get up and just make a run for it or not.
He hears Sam laugh.
Shit.
"Am I supposed to surprised?"
The feeling that hits Dean stomach is one that he's sure he's never felt before, because that was most definitely not the answer he was expecting.
"Huh?" Dean asks, his eyes now unable to look away from his brother's face.
Sam smirks and shakes his head, his dimples burying deep into the sides of his face. "Dean, c'mon-"
"What?!" Dean spits. Surprised? Was he supposed to be surprised? "What the fuck do you mean 'am I supposed to be surprised?'" Dean grumps, and Sam just continues to laugh, causing Dean to continue to furrow his brow even more, because he has no idea what the hell is going on. "I'm sorry, am I missing something here?"
Sam runs his fingers through his hair and scratches the back of his head. "I know, Dean. I mean, seriously, dude?"
"You know what?"
"That you're, gay-well I mean, bisexual." Sam says, his eyes rolling.
Dean sucks in his cheeks. He can't tell whether he's mad at Sam, or completely dumbstruck. "Okay, please explain to me how you got the memo I was bi before I did?"
"Oh god," Sam exclaims, and his head rolls back, sending his long hair whipping to the sides. Dean's brother just looks so...composed, and Dean hasn't the slightest clue why. Sam pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tightly and his smile is so wide it's even a little creepy. "C'mon, remember? Chuck Shirley?"
Shit.
Oh, Chuck Shirley. How could Dean forget?
Two years ago was a long time, but Dean can remember it like it was just yesterday.
Dean had gone to a book signing to meet the infamous Chuck Shirley, writer of one of his favorite book series. Dean had practically squealed the first time he'd laid his eyes on him; his light brown scruff, those pale blue eyes and firm shoulders that Dean just couldn't keep his eyes away from. Chuck hadn't acknowledged him in the slightest when he'd signed the book, but Sam had made it a goal of his to remind Dean constantly about how flustered he'd gotten around the guy, but Dean ignored it and said that it was just "him being a fan".
Dean denied any feelings or attraction towards the guy, but now that Dean knows he's bisexual, he knows for a fact that he'd definitely fuck the shit out of Chuck Shirley if he had the chance.
"And do I even have to mention Dr. Sexy?"
Dean slaps his hand on the diner table, making the plates and glasses shake. "You leave Dr. Sexy out of this," Dean says, holding a sturdy, pointed finger in front of Sam's face.
Sam makes a tsk noise and shakes his head.
"It's a guilty pleasure!" Dean shouts, and Sam laughs even more.
Leave it to Sam to know for a fact that Dean liked guys before Dean even knew it himself.
Sam's laughing dims down, and his eyes land softly on Dean's. "Dean, I don't care. Straight, gay, bisexual, I don't care. You're my brother and I love you."
Dean rolls his eyes at his sly brother, but he can't help feeling completely relieved. It was Sam, for Christ sake, and now that Dean knows Sam's okay with it, he can't help but laugh at himself for his strain in hesitance. Coming out to his brother had gone way easier than Dean expected, but there's still one more thing Dean has to fess up to.
And if coming out wasn't the hard part, this part definitely was.
"His name is Castiel." Dean says quickly, his lips rolling into a thin line.
Sam tilts his head, one eyebrow raising up farther than the other. "Huh?"
"Castiel. His name is Castiel Milton." Dean repeats. His lips have no filter whatsoever, and words just seem to be spilling out of his mouth on their own, crawling their way up his throat and scratching at his lips until they're set free.
Sam looks around the diner, his lips bowing into a disoriented demeanor. His lips part and his tongue licks across his bottom lip, and Dean can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears from thinking too hard. A few moments pass, and Sam's head jolts to Dean, his eyebrows raised and his jaw dropped.
Sam gasps. "You like someone!"
Dean claps and throws his hands up. "Bingo, yahtzee, score one for Sam Winchester."
Sam laughs loudly, enough for some people in neighboring tables to shoot them a glance. Dean blushes, but Sam continues to laugh. "Oh my god, Deanie-weenie's got a little crushie-wushie?" Sam pouts his lips, mimicking the voice of a five year old boy, and god, if Dean wasn't in a public place he sure would've made Sam regret that one.
"Dude!" Dean smacks his brothers arm, and Sam finally dims down, letting out a big, long, high pitched sigh.
"So tell me," Sam smiles, his face red and flustered from his laughing fit, "How'd you meet this rare creature?"
Rare creature.
Dean nods, because Castiel Milton was sure one hell of a rare creature. Dean grabs a handful of fries from his plate and shoves it in his mouth, "Dude cut me off at security. Sat next to him on the plane, then he ended up setting up camp in the hotel room next to mine. Went from there, I guess." Dean says with a mouthful of fries, and Sam's expression goes from giggly and lively to down-right serious.
"What do you mean "It went from there"?"
Sam has his eyebrows raised, and Dean gets that he's under the impression that him and Cas have done stuff.
Oh jesus, I wish...
"No, nothing like that." Dean remarks, and Sam shrugs his shoulders down, a disappointed look waving over his face, "I just-I don't know-I-I-tried to make a move and it didn't work out so well."
"Could just be shy."
Dean shakes his head. "Or, he could just be straight." Dean says, and he doesn't feel upset until he hears his own words, his appetite completely disintegrating like before, and now he wants nothing more than to just go home and sleep. Or, attempt to sleep.
Sam swallows and bites the inside of his cheek. "And, Lisa?" Sam asks, and Dean slowly rolls his eyes up to meet his brothers gaze, a strong harshness evading his eyes. "I mean, you know, um, I'd be totally cool if you cheat on Lisa. Damn witch, fucking-"
"Sam." Dean says sternly, his voice low and deep. His brother rolls his eyes and scoffs. It surprises Dean that every time Lisa comes up, Sam manages to just flat out bitch about the girl, and Dean knows why, but putting salt into an open wound hurts more and more each time.
Sam lets out a breath and purses his lips, giving Dean a once over before he smiles and leans in. "Fuck him." He whispers, his eyes squinting as he nods his head.
Dean smiles, because the thing is, he would.
"He wouldn't."
Sam leans back and grabs his utensil again, stuffing a forkful of salad into his mouth. "Hey, you never know, man." He says with his mouthful, and Dean shakes his head. Sam leans in again and swallows, "Do you think you'd be top or bottom? I feel like you'd totally be the bottom."
Dean swats his brothers arm, "Dude!" He shouts at him.
Bottom... Dean thinks, his stomach turning at the thought, there'd be a fucking dick in me...
The thoughts have never even once crossed Dean's mind, and now that it has, it scares the living shit out of him. He doesn't know what it is, but just the thought of some guy having their junk thrusted balls deep in Dean's ass doesn't seem to great. But, having his junk balls deep in Cas' ass seems like a pretty awesome thought. It's weird, thinking about a guy like this, but for some reason Dean just can't seem to think of anything else. It's all Cas.
Cas.
Cas.
Cas.
Just the thought of what his lips would taste like, the feeling of thin stubble against his tongue, his smell, his touch, his taste. Everything from hair pulling, to ass smacking, to lip biting; Dean's imagined it all, and now he's finding himself addicted to the feeling Cas gives him, and he just fucking wants it. He wants to hear the noises, the sounds he'd make Cas elict, he wants to lick every inch of his body, he wants to mark his territory.
Dean shakes his head and has to stop himself from letting his imagination go to far, because he can already feel his pants tightening a little. He looks up, and Sam's staring at him, his eyes squinted and beady.
"What?" Dean asks, his eyes trailing around the diner.
Sam tsks again. "Man, you gotta stop spacing out, dude."
"How long this time?"
Sam stands up from the booth. "Solid ten minutes." He says, flicking his head to the door before he's making his leave.
Dean bites his lip until he tastes blood.
It just keeps getting worse and worse.
It's a loud ringing that breaks him from another one of his space-out sessions, and by the time Dean clicks back to Earth, the hotel is in view, and Sam is pulling up his brand new silver Cadillac in front of the hotel lobby doors.
And oh joy, Todd is already staring at Dean through the window and smiling.
Dean sits in the car and the engines hums as Sam puts it in park, pulling out his ringing phone and turning it off before he shifts to Dean with his firm and broad shoulders. "What? Too scared to walk up to your room now?" He huffs, and Dean glares at him and snarls. "C'mon Dean. You guys are adults, not sixteen year old teenagers in high school, okay?"
Dean swallows. He's acting like a teenager. A damn, fucking, awkward as shit and naive teenager. And for some reason, he just can't help it. The way Cas is making him feel; making his heart beat so fast he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest, or the way he just feels so hot around him, like the room had just spontaneously increased in temperature by ten degrees. And he just can't help it.
And now comes the question Dean's been dreading and trying to avoid thinking about.
"What do I do if he doesn't want to talk to me? Doesn't want to be friends?"
Sam hitches a laugh. "All you want is a friendship, Dean?"
"Well, I'm not even sure we are friends, dude." Dean says, sucking in a breath of air. He feels a headache coming on, "Or at least, not anymore."
Not anymore.
Dean pinches the bridge of his nose.
Not any-fucking-more. Why? Oh, that's right, YOU screwed up, Winchester! You fucking idiot!
Sam puts puts his big gigantor hand on Dean's shoulder and Dean flings it off. The last thing Dean needs right now is sympathy from others. He doesn't know why he hates it, he just does. He wants a drink, but considering how beautifully that went last time, he decides not to. He works out a solid plan: go back to the hotel room and binge on the Star Trek marathon that's happening tonight, order some room service, and maybe even jerk off to some busty asian beauties.
Dean nods, unbuckling his seatbelt.
Sounds like a pretty solid plan to me.
Dean opens the door, "See ya, Sammy." He breathes, and slams the door once he's out. He hears Sam mumble something, but frankly Dean doesn't really give a flying fuck and he figures he'll just text him later.
He struts to the door, reminding himself over and over again about his plan.
Star Trek. Food. Porn.
Star Trek. Food. Porn.
Star Trek. Food. Porn.
He strides to the door, and he see's Todd and flashes him a wide smile. "Hiya, Todd!"
Todd grins, and his mustache twitches. "Evening, Sir!" He yells proudly, and Dean laughs because he's probably the only guy apart from those fancy-ass jerks who don't even give Todd a second glance.
Start Trek. Food. Porn.
Next comes Tessa, her lips curling and puffing when her eyes look up and see Dean eagerly and hastily making his way toward the courtyard.
"Hiya, Tessa!" He yells, and Tessa's eyebrows practically shoot off her head.
She puffs her chest, showing off what she's got, even though she doesn't have that much. "Good evening, Dean!" She smiles, "I take it you're in a good mood tonight!"
Star Trek. Food. Porn.
"Sure am, Tess." Dean winks, and Tessa blushes, her eyes falling down as she bites her lip. Dean scoffs.
It's just too easy sometimes. He thinks, and he's smiling when the doors slide open to the courtyard, the palm trees just hiding the vibrant orange sunset, and he can hear the splashes of kids playing in the pool, and he can smell the fresh ocean air.
Star Trek. Food. Porn.
He's still grinning when he reaches the building across the courtyard, and walks down the long hallway until he see's the elevator.
Dean shakes his head, his lips pouting out. "Nope. Doesn't bother me. I don't care. And you know what? I don't care that I don't care." He says to himself, taking a deep breath before he presses the button, and the doors open without hesitation this time, taking him right up to the fourth floor without any problems whatsoever.
The doors open, and he takes a step, then stops.
It's like there's this invisible barrier, and his eyes just slowly trail over to the floor...to the spot where Cas was sitting in his grey hoodie, all warm and snug with his old ratted jeans and hair so messy it could've been defined as total sex-hair.
Dean shuts his eyes with a heavy breath and forces himself out of the elevator. He starts his way down the hall, "Star Trek. Food. Porn." He reminds himself, whisperin under his breath as his feet struggle to carry him to the room. "Star Trek. Food. Porn. Star Trek. Food-"
Oh fucking shit.
"Dean-o!"
"Gabe," Dean says slowly, his head whipping around to make sure Cas was nowhere in sight, and thank God he wasn't, "What are you, uh, doin' here, man?"
Gabe shrugs, and Dean can't help but laugh at how the guy just reminds him of a little troll. "Eh, you know, visiting the bro. Work stuff, maybe a little orgy here and there, same ol', same ol'."
Wait, is he serious?
Cas having an orgy was quite the image. And Dean grimaces, because there was no way he could tell if this guy was serious or not. "Wait-"
Gabe hits his shoulder, "Chillax, bro. I'm fucking with you." Gabe laughs, and Dean sighs in relief.
No, I'm not jealous. I'm not. Star Trek, and uh-uh-what else was it? Wait no maybe it was-
"You should go in and talk to him."
Dean's eyes widen. "Oh, uh-I-I don't know if that's such a good-" Dean chokes on his own breath, because Gabe's already knocking on Cas' door. His hand shoots up to grab Gabe's arm, "Wait, no, Gabe!"
And then Gabe yells. "Cassie! Open up! Male strippers are here!"
Run.
There's about a billion things that are screaming at his head right now, and the loudest one of them all is telling him to run. To just book it down the hall and get the hell away from there, and still, for some reason, he won't move. His feet remain stuck to the carpet, watching, waiting for that door to open.
And it does.
"Gabe I-" Cas eyes Dean, and smiles. "Oh hello, Dean."
Hello, Dean?
Dean gives him a once over, soaking in Cas' appearance like he was the Sun. "Hey, Cas." He says soothly, and his eyes fall to Cas' black v-neck that hugs him in all the right places, outlining the strains of his biceps and chest, and the grey sweatpants that are a little too big for him, which Dean recognize as the ones Cas had on the morning he woke up in his room.
Cas' looks...fine. Totally, completely, fine. As if nothing happened at all. Dean wonders if maybe Cas just has the outstanding ability to keep his cool on the outside when he's screaming on the inside, because Dean sure as hell knows he's showing on the outside. He doesn't know how long he's been standing there, and Dean's just unable to look away from Cas. His eyes; those damn eyes that just keep making Dean want him more.
Gabe pushes Dean forward a little. "Well, I'm leaving. Have fun you two!" He says, and then he's gone, faint giggling trailing behind him as he body bounces away.
"How are you, Dean?"
Castiel's voice is booming with resonant, and all Dean can think about is the noises Cas would make if he were to pound him, just fuck the shit out of the dude, the noises he would make when he came...
Dean swallows. "Uh, fine. Um, yourself?"
Cas nods, "I'm great. Just about to go binge on the Star Trek marathon tonight."
"Huh," Dean laughs, tilting his head, "Me too!"
Dude likes Star Trek, fucking awesome.
Cas' eyes widen, and Dean notices a small pink color rise in his cheeks. Cas run's his hand through his hair and scratches the back of his head, his finger's messing up his dark hair just enough to entice. "Care to join me? I was thinking of ordering Chinese, if you're hungry."
Dean thinks his hearts beating so fast it might break through his ribs. His lips part into a warm smile, "Starving." Dean says, and then he's following Cas into his hotel room again. And the dude wasn't kidding, Cas already has Star Trek playing on the T.V., and there's a menu pamphlet open on the coffee table in front of the couch for the Chinese place.
"Order anything you'd like," Cas says, plopping down on the sofa in front of the giant flat screen T.V.
Dean shakes his head, "I'll pay for it Cas, it's really no big deal-"
"No please, I insist." Cas says with a smile, "Gabe left his wallet here."
Dean breaks into a laugh, his eyes shutting tightly, 'Well in that case, let's get one of everything!"
Cas giggles, and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket before he dials the number. "So, one of everything?"
Dean laughs, "No, Cas. Just Lo Mein for me, thanks." He giggles, and Cas shrugs.
He starts ordering, and Dean plops down on the couch next to him, listening to the deep tone of Castiel's voice, watching his lips move softly, his tongue swiping out occasionally to brush the bottom of his lip, watching them curl and curve against his skin. Dean wanted them. He wanted them bad. It's like Lisa was only a memory in the past, and she meant nothing to him anymore, and he just wanted something new, exciting, different. But he couldn't.
Cas hung up, "They said about thirty minutes. That okay?" He says, bringing his legs up and crossing them on the black leather couch.
Dean smiles. "Sounds good."
It was the longest thirty minutes of Dean's life. Cas was quiet, but when he did talk, he was funny, and made Dean smile almost every time. There were instances that Dean would just stare at him and he wouldn't even realize it until Cas stared back, holding his gaze before his eyes gaped away, and Dean was left with nothing but a red face and a beating heart.
Dean wanted and needed Castiel so bad it hurt, but he couldn't. The only barrier, the only line keeping Dean from straight out grabbing Castiel's face and kissing him hard was fucking Lisa.
There had been moments when Dean had almost forgotten his loyalty to her; like when Cas would shift in the couch and his knee would brush Dean's, or he would scratch and rub his neck and skin, or when he would laugh and he'd bite down on his tongue. Dean had to cross his legs so Cas wouldn't notice a possible growing bulge in his pants.
When the food finally arrived, they pretty much ate in silence, with the occasional television comment or complaint. Sometimes Cas would get way too much into the show, and start yelling things at the T.V., which almost made Dean choke on his Lo Mein every single time.
"What the fuck! Dammit, Picard! Why would you let those fuckers capture you? And you, Crusher! The hell were you thinkin', man?" Cas yells, throwing his hands up and waving them around. He huffs and gets up, taking Dean's plate and his own and clearing the area for them before he plops back down on the sofa again, and now he's even closer to Dean then he was before, and Dean can smell the cologne radiating off his skin.
Cas leans his head back against the couch and sighs. "This is aggravating. I'm not sure why I keep watching the show, it just upsets me every time I watch it." Cas laughs, grabbing the remote from the table. "Scary movie?"
Dean laughs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Okay, you choose."
Cas flips through the movie selection for a while, and finally decides on The Conjuring, which has Cas jumping in his seat not more than two minutes into the movie. It doesn't scare Dean at all, but the fear of accidentally popping a boner mid-movie does.
Cas jumps again, inadvertently grabbing Dean's wrist and squeezing tightly. "I did not expect that," He says, his fingers peeling of Dean's skin slowly. It's hard to ignore the way Castiel's fingers trail across Dean's skin, and Dean's finding himself unable to stop from leaning in a little bit, and now his thigh is pressed firmly up against Cas'.
Dean can feel it growing, the tension in his stomach, and Cas grabs his shoulder this time, so hard Dean's positive it'll most certainly leave a red handprint tattooed on his skin. "Sorry!" Cas yelps, his hands sliding down Dean's arm.
Dean shakes his head. "No, Cas, it's alright. I don't mind." He grins with a smile, and Cas smiles back, wrapping his arm around Dean's and taking shelter behind it. Dean swallows, because it's hard not to get a hard-on right now. Cas is almost pressed against him, and he's gripping Dean's arm tightly against his chest.
Do it, Dean. Pretend it's Lisa, okay? You can do this.
"Here," Dean says, his voice shaky and nervous as he unhinges his arm from Castiel's grasp, hooking it around Cas' shoulder and pulling him close and pressed tightly into Dean's side, "Better?"
Holy fucking shit.
Cas nods slowly, and Dean feels Cas' rapid heartbeat against his side when he presses into him. "Are you sure, Dean?"
"Yeah, why not? You're terrified, Cas." Dean smiles, and Cas hides his head down against Dean shoulder in embarrassment. He fervently grabs Dean's grey t-shirt, balling it up in his fists when something pops out, and Dean doesn't mean to, he really doesn't mean to, but he rubs Cas' shoulder, his thumb circling shapes around the skin. And Cas is okay with it.
They're cuddling.
And Cas is o-fucking-kay with it.
Big jump now, and Cas heads for Dean's knee this time, not squeezing hard, but just holding it. Dean looks down at Cas' hair, and he can't see Cas' face, and Cas cant see Dean's face, which is probably a good thing, because one look and Dean knows he's gone.
And then Cas moves his hand up.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUCK.
Dean swallows so hard he almost chokes on his own spit. He has a boner. He can see it clearly. There was no hiding it, it was literally there, and Dean panics, and does the only thing that he thinks is right.
"Shit, Cas-I gotta go-" He says, and he stands up from the couch, causing Cas to keel over a little. Cas sits up, a sad and miserable look spreading across his face.
"Everything okay?" Cas asks, pausing the movie and standing to meet Dean's level.
He's gonna see. Holy shit he's gonna see.
What Dean didn't know, is what Cas would do if he saw. Would he get on his knees and suck him off? Not very likely. Dean knows he'd tell him to get out, to never talk to him again and most likely end up switching hotel rooms. Cas looks confused, but Dean puts on his best smile, "I forgot I had plans with Sam like wicked early tomorrow morning! I have to get up at the crack o' dawn." He says, bolting to the door and opening it.
Cas follows him, rustling his fingers through his hair and yawning, a great big moan following.
Fuck.
Dean hides his body behind the door, blocking his now completely hard cock from Castiel's view, and he's surprised Cas hasn't seen it by now. It's hard enough to poke through jeans for Christ sake. Cas doesn't look to phased, and he seems to believe Dean's bullshit story.
"Alright, Dean." Cas yawns again. Another moan. A bigger boner. "Goodnight, Dean. I had fun tonight." Cas smiles, and he runs a thumb across his bottom lip and then swipes his tongue against it, and now Dean's fucking done.
"Night, Cas!" He yells, slamming the door and fumbling for the key-card in his pocket to get into his own room. He fumbles it open, and once he's inside he slams it closed and presses his back hard against it, out of breath and chest heaving.
Holy fucking god.
His eyes snap open, and he bites his lip, trying his hardest to avoid the fact that he still has a fucking boner.
"Bobby naked, think of Bobby naked," Dean whispers, and then grimaces at the thought before he starts to feel that his pants are becoming looser and looser. He sighs in relief, kicking off his shoes and stripping himself down to just his boxers before he flops down on the bed.
This was one hell of a night, and Dean is relieved that Cas didn't notice anything, but now Dean's more confused. He doesn't know if Cas is straight or not. By his reaction in the elevator, Dean could conclude the guy was 100% into tits, but now, after that, he could've sworn Cas was 100% into dick.
Dean squeezes his pillow. He really likes Castiel. The feeling he gets when he's around him, was just something unexplainable, something Dean couldn't control, and it was just growing. He's never ever had feelings like this for a guy, let alone get a fucking boner around one.
Dean lets his breathing calm himself down, and he calms himself and tries to fall asleep with thoughts of Castiel. His eyes, midnight blue and glowing, like a butterflies wing, pulsing and sending waves of shocks down Dean's body the longer he stared. His lips, puffy and full, his tongue swiping out and inviting Dean in, soft pink and delicate. His voice. Rough and rigid, smokey and strong but gentle and fragile, almost dangerous.
Dean can almost hear the noises Cas would make if he could touch him, running his fingers down his neck and chest, touching every inch of his body, showing Cas just how bad he wanted him. The noises he'd make when Dean kissed him, bit his lips and neck, his stomach and thighs. Dean can hear it.
Dean's eyes snap open.
He can really hear it.
Dean sits up and shakes his head, his hand finding the back of his hair and scratching. He laughs to himself, because for a second there, he could have sworn Cas actually moaned. He could hear it clearly, like it was right next to him. Muffled, but clear.
He lays back down on his bed, reverting his thoughts back to his imagination and letting it run wild. He imagines touching him again, bending him over on his knees and kissing the nape of his neck, his shoulders and back, rubbing his cock in between Cas and watching him squirm and moan.
He hears it again.
Muffled, but clear.
Dean sits up a second time, throwing his feet over the side of the bed and sitting up, his ears perking, because that was definitely not his imagination.
He hears it again.
Clearly this time. His feet force him to stand, and he walks slowly over to the wall of the room, his hands pressing flat against the wall before his ear follows, holding it to the wall, and listening. There's a long silence, and Dean almost thinks he's going insane, and that maybe his imagination is just more wild than he thought, but then he hears a stifled whimper.
"Dean..."
Dean throws his body off the wall.
HOLY SHIT.
His jaw drops, because he without a doubt, heard that. That was Castiel alright. That was Castiel, moaning Dean's name. Dean swallows when he feels his stomach drop, and now he's just standing in the middle of his room with his eyes wide and jaw fallen.
"Yes, oh yes, Dean, please..."
It was too fast to comprehend, but at the same time, Dean understood. He's jerked off before, and he knows that sometimes, names come out. Dean moves closer to the wall again, his hand pressing firmly up against it as he listened more.
"Oh God, yes. Harder, please-please..."
His body twinges, and he palms himself, because he's hard. Really hard. And he can't help it, but this wasn't cheating. He unbuttons his boxers and they fall to the floor at his feet, and he curls his fingers around his length. His cock is throbbing hard, and he clenches his teeth down when he moves his hand up, spreading pre-cum around the tip.
He lets out the quietest whimper, making sure that no one but himself can hear it. "Cas..." He breathes, his hand stroking back down to the base of his now fully hard cock and back up again, imagining Cas sprawled across the couch, one hand gripping the leather tightly as the other is wrapped hard and firm against his cock.
"Yes, yes, Dean, just like that, fuck me please,"
Dean lets out an unexpected whimper, the heat rising in his body when he hears his voice, low and needy and demanding. Dean's lips tremble, and he stokes himself harder, the thought of Cas spreading his legs for him, letting Dean control him, use him. His fist tightened around his cock as he kept his hands moving, his jaw tightening the faster he moved up his length.
"Fuck me, Dean, please, make me come...make me..."
"Cas. Oh fuck, Cas. Gonna make you come, " Dean whispers to himself, his hand stopping the motion all together and letting his hips take over, thrusting his cock into his hand over and over, "God, Cas. Gonna' fuck you so hard, baby." He groans quietly, his muscles clenching around his cock, the envision of Cas on his knees, his legs spread wide in front of him and Dean's cock buried deep inside him running through his mind.
Dean bites his lip, and wonders how Cas would bite his lip, if he would take it into his mouth a suck on it before opening his lips wide and pushing his tongue in, curling it and sliding their tongues against one another. Dean involuntarily moans again, louder this time, and he leans his head on the wallpaper, his breath quick and heavy against the barrier between them.
He shuts his eyes, and then its not his hand that he's thrusting into anymore, it's Cas, on his back with his hands gripping and grabbing at Dean's skin, yelling, screaming at him to move harder.
"Dean, yes, yes, baby, I'm coming..."
Dean's fingers scratch at the wall like it was Cas' hair, pulling and entwining his hands in it as he fucks him. Dean can still feel his swollen tip throbbing against his hand, and his mind is telling him to go over and show Cas exactly how he'd fuck him, but he can't, and it's killing him.
Dean was fucking his hand almost vigorously now, the thought of his hand being Cas' warm and tight ass almost overwhelming and overpowering. Dean moaned again, his stomach and cock straining in dire need of release, and he could feel the twinge in his core building.
"Cas, yes, oh, Cas," Dean groans low and needy, his cock continuing to thrust in and out of his hand, "Oh, baby, I'm coming. Shit, Cas, I'm coming." Dean's pumping becomes more feverish and he feels like he needs to come more than anything in the world, and the tip of his cock was becoming more sensitive, turning a deep pink against his tan skin.
"Dean! Oh, Dean! Yes! I'm coming!"
"Yeah, Cas, that's right, come for me. Just like that baby, come for me," Dean whimpers, his voice hitching and breaking against his heaving breath, his mouth quivering and shaking when he feels his balls tighten up and his cock twitch against his hand. Dean pants heavily and his legs begin to shake, and now he's making noises out of his mouth that he didn't even know existed. "Yes, Cas, oh baby. So good, so good, oh god, I'm coming, Cas I'm coming,"
And then he feels it, his whole body shakes as his cock is spurting out come in front of him, and he's still whispering and heaving Cas' name even after he's finished. And now it's silent, and the only noise that fills Dean's room is his own shaken breath.
Holy shit. I just jerked off to a guy.
He stares at the wall, his eyes wide and lips parted. He has no idea how long he's standing there, but by the time he realizes what just happened, he is now is certain of two things:
1. Castiel Milton is uncontrollably, undoubtably, and wildly attracted to him.
2. He is: So. Fucking. Screwed.