Also, sorry I haven't been able to update. I probably won't get around to it again for a little while, Sunday at worst. Because unfortunately, I'm at my mom's house, and I'm watching my little brother this entire week. So yeah. Sunday, be looking forward to that.
Ben finally leaves around midnight, and Dean is relieved to have the privacy of his own home back. He paces the floor for a little while, clearing his mind and breathing in and out. He knew he should probably go to sleep, but he could also feel the beginnings of a hard on again. It really had been too long...
So, he grabbed a towel and a fresh pair of underwear, walking into the bathroom and setting them down neatly on the toilet seat. He let his mind wander to cheap porn and past fucks as he started to take off his clothing, slowly shedding one layer at a time. When he was finally stripped down to his underwear, he reached in and tested the water, adjusting the temperature a bit. Once he finally found it satisfactory, he slipped off the final layer and climbed into the spray.
He let the water run down his back for a little while, hands lathering soap into his scalp as he thought of busty Asian women. He gritted his teeth as his cock gave a dull throb, clearly over eager to get the activities started. He knew that if he didn't wait a little while, until he was a little more in control of the situation, he was going to cum hard and fast all over the wall. He wanted this to last, though, so he lathered up the rest of his body, purposefully avoiding his dick.
Eventually, it got to the point where he had nowhere else to touch. His cock was hard and heavy between his legs, red and swollen and practically leaking. He gave a hiss as his hand wrapped around the flesh, shivering at the feeling of finally being touched.
His thumb slowly moved along his skin, the rest of his hand remaining firmly latched around his base. He tentatively took the first stroke, wet skin on wet skin making him stifle a groan. His forehead rested against the shower wall as the spray hit his back, and he began to pump himself, agonizingly slow.
He let his thoughts take their own path as he pumped, hissing as his thumb lightly brushed over the sensitive tip. His member was swollen and ready to burst, so he knew that he didn't have to do anything particularly fancy right then. Just stroking and thinking would do, for now... Just letting his thoughts take their own path, not regulating them or trying to think about anything in particular...
His mind wandered through regular fields like cars and beer and women before finally making a full circle back to gaming. As soon as the word popped into his head, what had happened earlier had made its way to the front of his mind. Castiel's commanding growl, his overpowering demeanor, the way Dean's dick had practically jumped out of his pants at the lightest sexual innuendo...
Dean felt his member give a dull throb in his hands, and he froze. He stood there for a full minute in the shower, the water running down his bare back, not daring to move. He shook his head to clear it, blushing a bit as he started to pump again. He was close now; all he had to do was finish and he was sure everything would be okay again. This stupid dude-induced boner was a one-time affair. Things would be back to normal if he could just get himself to cum.
So, he let his mind start to wander again, this time, staying strictly in the realm of women. He thought about that blonde porn star he'd dated for a little while, her large and succulent breasts and how much she was willing to try. He thought about his first real love, Cassie, (which had nothing to do with Cas, he assured himself) who was a real wild card. As soon as he thought about her, though, he found himself feebly shaking as his lower stomach burned. He was close, so close...
But, he was out of material. Everyone and everything that he usually thought about was already gone. It had been much too long since he'd watched any porn, so thinking about that was out of the question, and he honestly couldn't make himself think about anything he'd already gone through that night. It would feel like too much effort, and he really just wanted to get off, easy. Without over thinking things.
So, he gave himself permission, just this once.
He imagined what Cas's voice would sound like groaning out his name. There was nothing else on his mind, there was no body to attach, no pair of breasts that had magically popped into his head to assure his sexuality. Just that manly, gravely, oh-so-fuckable voice, all for him.
And suddenly, he was cumming. Harder than he'd ever cum from touching himself; he groaned out Castiel's name as his dick pumped out his release, curved and seductively red as Dean felt the pleasure wash over him. His left hand came up to make a fist on the shower wall and he bit his lip hard, knowing that his walls were paper thin and not wanting anyone else to hear. No, this moment was for him, and him alone.
Finally, the stream stopped, and his dick began to soften. He stood there panting, forehead resting against the shower wall, for another good ten minutes. He was in utter disbelief; he was frozen by the fact that he had just had the freaking best orgasm he'd had in years, and it was from masterbating. To thoughts of a dude.
He quickly washed himself off, deciding to bury this memory in the back of his mind and (hopefully) never, ever revisit it.
Almost a week had passed since that night, and Dean had done his best not to think about it. It was a little hard, what with him talking to Castiel literally every night, and Cas still dropping occasional innuendos, but it wasn't too bad. After all, they had started to become friends now, which made some awkward moments easier to write off.
In fact, Castiel had texted Dean for the first time the night before. Dean had just been minding his own business, fetching a beer, getting ready to watch some television, when his phone sounded from the living room. Dean made his way over to it, beer in his hand, curious. The only person who ever texted him was his brother, and they had just talked earlier, which meant it wasn't very likely to be him.
'Dean, I would like to know whether or not you'd be free to get on right now. I have a spare time slot I need to fill.' Dean read. He looked up at the number; this person clearly meant him, but he didn't know who it was. Or what they were talking about. They had a New York area code, though, so he supposed it could be someone from his guild? He couldn't remember giving his number to any of them, but he guessed it would probably be easy enough to get it from a phone book.
'Who is this? Ash, is it you? Yeah I'm free, give me a minute.' He texted back, tapping his thumbs against the phone thoughtfully once he was done.
He got out his computer and started it up, glad to have some distraction. Charlie had said that they shouldn't be online that night because she had to make arrangements for the renaissance fair the next day, so Dean had been expecting to be bored as heck until is six o'clock usual with Cas.
'No, it's not Ash. It's Castiel; I would have expected you to have guessed. Isn't Ash one of your guild mates?' Dean read. His eyebrows raised as he saw that it was not, in fact, the one he had expected. He quickly pulled up chrome and typed in his usual website, excited to see Cas early today. He'd been wanting to spend more and more time with his intriguing friend lately. Dean, who never opened up to anyone, found himself more and more inclined to throw Castiel tidbits of his past, present, and hopes for the future.
Castiel was quickly becoming one of his closest friends, in just a week of interaction. Of course, he was still close to the guild and to his brother, but Sam had been busy lately and the guild just wasn't as intimate as his one-on-one time with Castiel.
'I'm getting on now. How the hell did you get my phone number?' Dean asked, then turned back to his computer as the log-in option popped up. He quickly entered in his information, clicking the start button. The microphone gave the usual click and Castiel was connected to him.
"Need I remind you, Dean, that I'm an experienced hacker. Your number wasn't that had to find once I had your name." Cas reminded him. The first thing he said.
"Yeah yeah yeah." Dean responded, "Let's just get on with playing the game. Where to next?"
Dean heard the sound of a horn, jerking him back to reality. He gave a sheepish laugh as he pressed down on the gas pedal. He'd been thinking so hard, he'd entirely missed the light going green. Which, of course, sufficiently pissed off the people behind him.
He was headed to Charlie's renaissance fair, and his stomach was in knots. He was excited and nervous at the same time, eager to meet the people he'd been playing online with in the past year. The fleeting thought that Castiel might be there crossed his mind, but he pushed it down immediately. Cas said he didn't get out much, and just because he had a New York number didn't mean anything.
He pulled into the parking lot, seeing that it was clearly the intended place for the festival. There were people dressed in extravagant middle earth clothing and wearing what looked to be like pounds of chain mail, on top of carrying around large wooden shields and what looked to be weapons covered in hard foam. He parked two blocks away, not able to find anything closer. It looked like hundreds of people had shown up, and Dean wondered again just how big the gaming and larping community was.
He got out of his car and started walking, passing many knights and fair maidens along the way. He felt outstandingly under-dressed in his normal flannel and jeans, but he hadn't had time to throw together anything better. The only thing that softened his outlandish appearance was the button on his shirt showing his support for his guilding game. Other than that, though, he was an outcast.
He finally got near the festivities, and he could hear music being played over the loud speaker. He looked around at the booths, seeing things for sale and food cooking, all of it was slightly overwhelming. People ran to and fro, sometimes lightly jabbing each other with swords, other times locked in heated conversation in accents Dean found strange. He'd even over heard a little bit of a conversation in Toliken elvish; he knew enough to recognize the language, but wasn't able to keep up.
He was actually beginning to enjoy himself when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned around to see a small dude with a badge on his chest in the usual crest of the land, showing that he worked for royalty.
"Are you Dean?" He questioned, eyeing him up and down. Dean raised an eyebrow. The way the dude was looking at him, you would have thought Dean had just drowned a puppy in his sink.
"Yes, who's asking?" He questioned. The man shifted uncomfortably, taking on a more professional demeanor.
"The princess, Charlie, has sent me to fetch you. She requests your presence in her throne room." He said, gesturing to the side. Dean didn't even have time to respond before he was following the little guy through the crowds, almost bumping into people as he weaved around them. Unlike usual, he didn't receive any dirty looks when he accidentally nudged someone, only a knowing smile and a nod of acknowledgment.
They eventually arrived in front of a large tent, with the crest across it in bright red paint. Nobody dared come within ten feet of it, but Dean was escorted right to the front door. The small man lifted up the curtain and gestured for him to come inside, and Dean did so. He ducked under the tent and into the room, feeling the door shut behind him. The smaller one had decided to stay outside.
"Dean!" Was yelled from his left. "Nice to meet you, dude!"
He turned, eyebrows knitting together. The voice was familiar, but the blonde curls and bright brown eyes were new. She was dressed in a chain mail shirt that stopped just below the belly button and a skirt that touched the floor, making her appear fierce and graceful and powerful all at once. She held out a hand for him to fist bump, and he stared at it for awhile, before a huge smile stretched across his face.
"Jo!" He exclaimed, bumping her fist. She nodded her head appreciatively.
"I told you he'd recognize me without asking!" She declared, looking across the tent. Dean followed her gaze to see a man dressed in a night's costume, with the addition of a couple of pieces of flannel tied around the tops of the arms. He had out-of-control blonde hair that was styled into a mullet. There was a computer sitting in front of him and he cracked away at the keys, presumably working his magic. His eyes drifted up to Jo's with vague annoyance. Ash.
"Well excuse me. I never said he wouldn't, I just said that the chances weren't in your favor. After all, it turned out I'd been coming into your mom's bar for years and we didn't know each other. I would think I would have a higher chance of knowing you when I saw you." Ash said, sounding slightly annoyed. Dean felt a huge smile stretch across his face; these were his guild mates; he would recognize their banter anywhere. He had no reason to be worried.
"Alright guys, let's get Dean suited up!" A third voice. Charlie, if Dean wasn't mistaken. He turned towards the sound, to see bright red hair and dimples holding up a suit made of pieced together red fabric and chainmail. He looked at the other two, eyes questioning. He was met with twin shrugs.
"Come on, you can't expect me to have a hand maiden who looks like they're from the twenty first century, can you?" She questioned, pushing Dean towards a small compartment where he would be able to change in peace.
"Hand-what?" He questioned, as he was pushed into the room.
Later, of course, he found out that he had to play the part of hand maiden because he was late and the other two positions had been filled by Jo and Ash. Of course, it didn't end up all that terrible to Dean. He liked staying by Charlie's side, he liked talking to her, and he damned well liked that once it got to the "feast" part of the night, he got a front row seat to watching the king and queen discuss kingdom matters, as he was only four or five seats down. Sure, he had to run and get Charlie a refill on cheap wine every once in awhile. He was fine with that.
Charlie was to his left, and Ash and Jo are to his right, in that order. They're all sitting around and eating (They had to pay for their own food, but that was fine. It was delicious and well worth it) and talking, and he went back and forth between talking eagerly with the guild and listening in on the king and queen talking. Of course, next year, it would be Charlie in that queen's seat.
"So, I basically had to just make out with a girl in front of him to get him to leave me alone." Charlie admitted. She was explaining the little dude's hostile attitude towards Dean earlier; he still had a huge crush on Charlie and saw everyone, male or female, as potential competition. He didn't know Ash and Jo were already in the tent, and the princess asking a random boy into her quarters alone sounded like something more than it was to him. Dean nodded his head, and Charlie casually took a bite of her chicken.
"So, Dean, what's your sexual orientation?" She questioned, raising her eyebrows. He heard a shuffle as Jo and Ash both leaned forward, intrigued by the turn the conversation had taken. Dean opened his mouth as if to respond, but nothing came out for a little while.
"I'm straight." He managed to choke out. A very small voice in the back of his head brought up the shower incident, but he quickly placed an entire roll of duct tape over its mouth. He smiled, repeating confidently, "Completely heterosexual."
"Are you sure?" Jo asked from behind him. "You talk about that Castiel boy an awful lot to be straight." She put in. Dean felt his cheeks go red hot, and his mouth opened and closed several times. Jo and Ash busted out laughing together, and Charlie reached behind him to hit both of them on the back of the head.
"I've only known him for like a week. And we're just friends." He assured, more himself than anyone else. I'm straight. He repeated in his mind. After the past week of saying it to himself over and over again, he felt sort of sick of repeating it. He sounded like a broken record, even to himself. Completely heterosexual.
Charlie changes the subject, and Dean's grateful for it. "So, the next meeting, I'm getting to meet the prince. I'm really excited to be working with him! They say he came here today, but just doesn't want to draw attention to himself. I don't mind though, as long as he's here once our rule comes into domain. I just need assurance he's not gonna bail on me, you know?" She questions.
"Of course." Dean says, mostly paying attention.
The rest of the night is spent having fun, laughing as usual, watching a sick-ass jousting tournament, and then stripping down and back into his regular clothes, half asleep and a little bit tipsy from wine and laughing so much. He stops and eats a piece of bread before he has to drive home, slapping himself around a little to make sure he sobers up. (Buzzed driving is drunk driving, he tells himself).
Once he's absolutely certain he's able to pass a field test, he climbs in and starts the car, driving the hour home in one long push. He's practically half asleep already at the wheel, and he hopes that he'll be able to get to his bed room in time before he passes out.
It's a miracle he makes it to the elevator, and he almost doesn't notice that the weird guy who usually wears a trench coat is standing next to him, sex-hair and pouty lips and all, fully suited in chain mail and armor. He's all muscle and lightly tanned skin and practically glowing. There's one of those big ass foam swords behind him, leaning up against the elevator wall. Dean would totally question him about it if he wasn't so exhausted.
The elevator stops and he stumbles out and to the door, trying to convince himself that no, he did not find the guy that lived next door attractive, because he was straight. However, he was too tired to fight with himself for long, and found himself staring at the guy's ass as he walked down the hallway. Dean tried to convince himself that he didn't find it attractive before he gave up and admitted that the dude was sort of hot.
He stumbled into his apartment and passed out on the couch, not even bothering to take off his shoes.