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Dean Winchester was a man who appreciated the physical form. He was a connoisseur whether the body in question was Asian and full chested, Bay Stater and slender, Iowan and blonde, or a bemused looking former angel. Castiel was currently evaluating the merits of traditional briefs vs. boxer briefs, holding the multipacks in each hand as if their weight would help inform his decision.
Leaning against a mirrored pillar Dean let his eyes feast on Castiel in his new second-hand clothes. He began at the damn fine pair of hiking boots and the tight fitting denims. There was a tiny fleck of cream colored gloss paint on the right rear calf, probably the reason some rich douche had donated a pair of Rock and Republic denims. Castiel had put on a white Henley. The top button was undone. He was wearing the check shirt that he had picked out on his own. The shirt had white and light grey squares and where the lines intersected a charcoal grey box. Castiel had combed his hair that morning but Dean had messed it up. On their way out of the Men of Letters bunker Dean had pinned Castiel against the wall with sudden urgency, which was formed from balled up anxiety for Sam's recovery and his niggling doubts about Cas's commitment to stay with him. Dean wasn't analyzing any of that. Those feelings had gone un-verbalized and un-communicated, save for the desperation of the kiss and the fist bunched in Castiel's hair.
Dean sighed. Castiel noticed and tilted his head. In response Dean quirked a grin and told him to shake his lily white ass and choose already. Castiel held up the pack of boxer briefs and moved to the rack of various socks. Dean returned to thoughts of waking up stiff and uncomfortable but perfect, with one leg hanging off the old sofa and the TV showing snowy fuzz behind him.
As Castiel moved down the aisle with his selection of dark shaded socks, Dean thought of how a few years ago he would never have allowed himself to look at another man that way. Hell, a year ago he was in Purgatory focused on survival and finding Castiel. A few months ago his mind was telling him there was nothing wrong with taking up Aaron Bass on his gentle offer of pleasure but he didn't follow through. A few weeks ago Paul had made him come so hard he thought he might have permanently emptied his balls. Now he was here watching his angel spinning around a pedestal stand of sunglasses, watches and cufflinks.
"Dean I would like to have one of these."
"So get it, whatever it is."
"I do not have sufficient dollars."
"Bruce Holeyer is paying." Dean brandished his latest credit card and came over to see what Castiel wanted to buy. It was a leather braided bracelet with a stud fastener for $15. "How do you have money anyhow?"
"I had a job."
"Come again."
"When I was guarding the tablet, I worked part-time as a cloakroom guardian."
Castiel delivered this information in his normal deadpan manner, and it took Dean a moment to process. "You took care of people's coats. That's freaking hilarious."
"Dean it was not hilarious. It was monotonous and certain patrons were overly aggrieved if I failed to retrieve the correct jacket. However sometimes I received tips with phone numbers written on the bills."
"I'd say you did." Dean smirked.
"The notes had been defaced. I was concerned that they would not be accepted in retail establishments but there was never a problem."
Dean whooped a laugh and clapped Cas on the back, imagining clerks thinking they had gotten Castiel's number and calling only to reach the gal or guy who had passed their contact onto the angel. It was a rom-com plot in the making. He plucked the bracelet out of Castiel's hand and headed for the checkout.
Outside leaning against the impala, he burned through the plastic barb tie with his Zippo. Then he took Castiel's wrist in his hands and wrapped the bracelet around the pale skin.
"It is a gift."
"Thank you Dean." Castiel squeezed Dean's palm as it passed over his hand.
"Come on then. We need to haul ass to get over to Sam by 11."
Castiel disappeared to get Danishes and vending machine coffees when Sam disclosed he had not eaten the hospital breakfast. While he was gone Dean expertly steered the conversation away from his brother's prank level interrogation of what he and Cas had gotten up to the night before. Luckily the laptop was a major distraction. Dean thought Sam's Wi-Fi dongle was probably prohibited in the hospital but that had never stopped his brother from connecting to the internet before.
When Castiel returned they chewed on the reasonably well baked hospital cafe pastries while Sam brought up a news channel.
"... washed up all over the planet. Reports from beaches of many hundred men and women of all ages, all with impact wounds, drowning victims with inexplicable burns on their backs. The World Health Organization..."
"Please." Castiel croaked.
Dean's head shot up seeking Castiel whose back was turned to stare out the window.
"Please Sam turn it off, or mute your sound, I can't hear this... my brethren... "
"For fuck sake, Sam, you heard him, turn the damn thing off." Dean was up and pulling Castiel to his chest. Cas ducked his head, hiding his eyes from Dean.
"Cas. I'm sorry." Sam offered, "I just opened on the breaking news, I didn't think."
Dean glared daggers at Sam.
"Dean, I've apologized, OK? What do you want me to do?"
"It is fine Sam." Castiel cleared his throat and turned to the bed. "You were not to know. I am taken aback at the manner in which my emotions manifest physically." He dried his eyes on his sleeve cuff.
"You good?" Dean asked suspicious at the sudden calm.
"Yes Dean. If I had followed the logical path I would have realized that many angels would have fallen to the oceans, human and powerless to stop their bodies from expiring. It is a travesty, one to add to Metatron's slate." Castiel took a place on Sam's bed on the opposite side from his IV which was delivering a yellow bag of vitamin rich nutrients this morning. "Sam, would you find something more pleasing on your computer?"
"Like kittens playing with wool?"
"Yes exactly like that."
"No problem, Cas."
"I despair... you can't Google classic cars, or you-tube the Zep?" Dean sighed heavily at the sound of mewling kittens and the other two making Awhh noises.
"Get this Dean, the kitty is sitting in a box with 'Cat ornament' written on it." Sam gave his brother a mischievous grin.
"Dean do you think a cat would like to live in the bunker?" Castiel asked.
"No frigging way. Look at what you have done now, bitch. Allergies Cas, no animals in the bunker."
"If I still had my grace, I could cure your allergy and we could get a couple of kittens." Castiel's shoulders slumped as he continued to watch America's next top feline model.
Finally, interrupted by a nurse who checked Sam's blood pressure, the cat watching was over. Dean was mollified by more usual research as Sam read out potential cases from small town newspaper sites. Castiel's boundless knowledge was not dimmed by his fall and he was able to rule out several stories as aurora borealis, genuinely high bear populations, and impossible lies.
Before 5pm, Sam was already thanking them for spending the whole day keeping him amused. Dean was a little concerned that Sam expressed how tired he was for a second evening, and tried to explain how it was no hardship to return from 7pm to 8pm , but Sam would have none of it and told them to enjoy their meal at Paul's.
Dean picked up a six pack of Heineken at the liquor store, with Castiel insisting that they also purchase a bottle of non-alcoholic Sangria Señorial. Paul was a beer and liquor man, but Castiel felt they should bring something that would fit with the chili and that Leslie could consume if he was dry. Also Castiel had observed the gifting of a bottle of wine when invited for dinner in more than one of the movies he had seen recently. Dean surrendered. It was hardly going to offend Paul.
The Impala was parked in Geary's lot. So Castiel and Dean walked from the store to Paul's apartment. At the corner of the next block a crazed looking woman with matted hair flung herself at Castiel's feet.
"Hey there lady?" Dean startled.
"Castiel. You have to do something." The crazy Amazonian-like woman demanded as she stood and crowded Castiel into the wall. Before Dean knew what was happening the bitch had him pinned against the whitewashed stucco.
"Shancriel, what can I do?"
"I don't know, you traitorous infidel. If you hadn't killed Raphael…." She smacked the side of his head, but Castiel made no move to defend himself from the onslaught.
Dean calmly placed his beer on the ground and swung the ex-angel bitch round. "Hey sister, no point in crying over spilled milk? Capese?"
"I am not your sister." She seethed.
"You are right about that, you don't make the grade. Now Shanananiel make like a tree."
"What is he saying to me Castiel? Do you listen to this mud monkey?"
"I think you should leave Shancriel." Castiel had straightened up and was fixing his shirt.
"And go where? Where? How? Do you know I have to relieve this body of waste several times a day?" Her nose curled.
"Get freaking used to it. And you might consider washing your body. You reek." Dean tugged on Castiel's hand and marched him away from the bitch.
Around the corner, Dean halted. He wiped down the back of Castiel's shirt with his hand. The other man's breath was quick, and he seemed effected by the encounter.
"You good, Cas?"
"Yes Dean. I'll be fine. She was the second one."
Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Zuriel was more understanding, but we were in the same garrison."
"When did you meet another angel?"
"When I bought the pie."
"And you didn't think to mention it?" The former angel was exasperating.
"No. Nothing significant happened. Zuriel will survive, I am confident. Shancriel is not coping as well. Should we have tried to help her?"
"Someone wise once told me I can't save everyone." Dean gave Castiel's upper arm a squeeze.
"I don't think she was receptive to my aid."
"She looked like she was preparing to throttle you to be honest."
"You are right."
"When am I not?"
"I am starting to wonder." Castiel said, and Dean heard the tease in his tone.
They were at Paul's building. Dean was filled with a sudden enthusiasm to see the firefighter after that jarring encounter. He raced ahead of Castiel and knocked on Paul's door. He shifted from one foot to the other and cradled the six-pack of Heineken against his chest for protection. He cleared his throat in preparation to thank Paul for giving him a second chance invite for chili and for his support about Sam.
The door swung open. Dean was hit by a blast of air freshener and cleaning products. He blinked and looked down on the twink pixie who had opened the door to him. Ok, so twink pixie was a little cruel. The guy was 5' 7" on a good day. He was seriously pretty. Dean knew pretty, he had cringed at it in motel mirrors for most of his teenage years, but this dude, he was all soft lines and pink glossed lips. He had an eyebrow piercing and his icy blue eyes were rimmed with perfectly tattooed guyliner. His handshake was too gentle for Dean's liking as he introduced himself, "Leslie Andover, and you must be Dean Winchester, come on in darling."
"You are not at all what I imagined." Dean stuttered and handed over the beer.
Paul's voice sounded from inside as he came over to the entrance. "Hey Dean, I was just rinsing the rice, I see you met Leslie."
The fire-fighter stood beside Leslie and Dean revised his height estimate down. Paul must have a foot over his partner.
"I do not understand why structures above three storeys are not obliged to be constructed with elevators." Castiel puffed as he joined Dean in the doorway.
"Castiel Lawrence." He said handing the faux-sangria to Leslie who beamed at the bottle.
They all shook hands and Paul introduced Leslie to Castiel. Dean was pleased with how things were going. They took places on Paul's sofa in his remarkably tidy sitting room, leaving the armchair for their host.
Paul called in from his galley kitchenette that he just needed to serve up but the chips and sour cream were on the coffee table.
Castiel perched awkwardly next to Dean.
"You good Cas?"
"I am unaccustomed to such social situations."
Dean gave a hearty laugh, "So am I."
He looked to his left as Leslie pulled out a compact mirror and tweezers. He proceeded to pluck two hairs from between his eyebrows.
"What are you doing?" Castiel did his seriously adorable head tilt and Dean sucked in his lip so not to comment.
"I am grooming my eyebrows." Leslie said perkily, "We can't let ourselves go, Castiel."
"Dean?"
"Yes Castiel."
"Would you like me to..."
"No!" Dean took a calming breath. Perhaps this was not going to be as smooth sailing as he hoped. "Paul you need any help in there dude?"
He wondered briefly about the wisdom of leaving Leslie and Castiel, but he popped into the kitchen and took the dinner plates from the counter.
"So Paul? Leslie?"
"So Dean? Castiel?" Paul countered. "I don't know man. We are getting to know each other again. But I don't know, maybe. He is not the same guy, but maybe he is a better guy. What about you?"
"Cas is staying."
"Good. You guys finding your feet?"
"More than our feet." Dean confessed.
"Budgie I'm hungry." Leslie called.
"Budgie? Budgie? Seriously?" Dean snorted.
"My brother, the one with my nephews, you know, is Peter? I met Leslie when I was out with Peter and you know the nursery rhyme?"
Dean looked blank.
"Two little dickie birds sitting on a wall, one named Peter the other named Paul? What man nothing? What kind of childhood did you have?"
"You have no idea. That one wasn't in Sam's book of rhymes."
"Ok, I'm not even going to ask why only Sam got a book of rhymes. So Leslie decides I am a 'little dickie'. Not so cool. By the third date I had registered my objection and the belittling of my cock, so I became Budgie."
"Does Leslie have a nickname?" Dean asked as Paul added a pile of cutlery to his four plates.
"Continuing our size disparity theme... Bear."
"You crack me up. Don't let Cas hear, you'll give him ideas."
"What are you afraid you'll end up a hummingbird or a goldfish?"
"Naw man, Cas has a wide range of knowledge who knows what he could decide on."
They carried the plates and pot of chili in to the others.
"Therefore an ice cream float at four dollars is a significantly worse investment than a strawberry milkshake for $3.80."
"You sure know a lot about Biggersons." Leslie said.
"I have made a study of them."
"Are you a food writer Castiel?" Leslie asked.
"No. I have only recently developed an appetite..."
Dean interrupted "Castiel had a thing for Biggersons food recently. He loves a good burger."
"Wouldn't say no to a juicy meat patty." Paul commented as he added the rice bowl and side of refried beans.
"Place in St Louis, used to have the best bacon cheese burgers in America. It's gone now." Dean sighed.
"This is good." Castiel said through a mouthful of rice, chili and sour cream.
"Glad you like it." Paul raised his bottle in salute.
Driving home after an evening of good food and stories exchanged, Dean felt quite smug about how well things had gone. Castiel had been sociable, if judged against angelic levels of sociability. Dean had covered for a couple of minor slips. Paul was peeved about being on desk and driver duty until his arm healed, but once he had indulged in a moan he told them a few crazy impressive fire fighter stories. Dean had supplied a couple of heavily edited hunts. Leslie drank the whole bottle of Sangría Señorial.
"Leslie asked me..."
"Cas. Seriously man. I don't think I want to know this."
"But Dean, why did he ask me about being a queen?"
Dean gripped the steering wheel as if it had a chance of escaping. "What did you say?"
"I told him I was certain that my body contained no royal blood but that you were descended from the Kings of ancient Israel."
Dean snorted and slapped a hand onto Castiel's thigh. "Seriously man, don't ever change. And if anyone asks you again about queens and our relationship tell them to go suck a lemon."
"Go suck a lemon." Castiel practiced.
Dean cracked up.
A few miles out from Lebanon, Dean's curiosity got the better of him, "So, Cas? Whaddid you and Leslie talk about while Paul and I served up?"
"It was a strange conversation. Leslie's references were difficult to follow."
"Examples?" Dean turned his head slightly to smile at Castiel who was looking thoughtful.
"Well he said he understood that you and Paul would not have lasted because you are both 'The Tops' and I was confused because I understood that compliment to be outdated slang of a previous generation. I agreed that you were 'The Tops', the best. But then it seemed to refer to sexual relations, and I remembered how the pizza-man had the pretty female sit on top of him. Do you think that Leslie meant that?"
"Ah, no." That was all Dean could manage to say. Horrified, was a good description of his reaction to the conversation.
"Then he asked me if you were versatile, and I agreed wholeheartedly. You are very versatile Dean, your adaptability to any situation has saved your life and the lives of others on many occasions."
"Cas, I don't think you understood..."
"Then Leslie made some very intimate comments."
Did Castiel just blush adorably? He was petrified to ask. "More intimate than who is top and if I am versatile about it?"
"Leslie informed me that he is something called a total bottom. I asked him to explain."
"Oh God."
"Dean!"
"Right sorry. Oh Fudge." Dean corrected his blasphemy.
"He said Paul uses too much lube, that he likes to feel it, but Paul says you can never have too much lubrication, and that three fingers is more than enough before penetration, and that the best sensation in the world is when Paul rims him after sex."
"What did you think when Leslie was telling you this?"
"I believed he was what you call over sharing, but he also seemed very happy to be re-united with his partner and I believe he was reliving their actions in the retelling."
"Is that it?" Dean knew that they were going to have to have a talk about sex. He really didn't want to. He wanted it just to happen like their kissing and the making out.
"I believe I would like it just as much." Castiel admitted but seemed uncomfortable in saying it. Dean wondered if it was because of his own hang ups, or if maybe Cas was concerned to ask Dean for what he wanted from him.
"You would?" Dean scrubbed a hand over his open mouth. The turn off for the bunker was ahead.
"Dean, I want to easy your worries. I took great notice of Leslie's advice and I will ensure to thoroughly lubricate you and my cock before I enter your body." Castiel said decisively.
Dean was speechless. How had he automatically become the bottom one in the bedroom?
Still he didn't object. When he had imagined sex with Castiel and earlier with Paul, his mental imagery had been vague. There was lots of sweat and grinding and coming, but he realized he hadn't visualized penetration. Had his mind shied away from it? He had not had a fantasy of taking Castiel in that way. However thinking of Castiel fucking him, of being filled and driven into by Castiel's hard cock, made his groin clench up and own arousal skyrocket. Now if they could just make it to the memory foam before his appetite led him to try and devour Castiel's pink lips then that would be a win.
Dean's hands twitched to grab into the sleeves of Castiel's shirt. They shook as he locked up Baby. Castiel walked in front to the bunker door and as Dean extracted the key from his pocket, he was assaulted by a bruising kiss.
"Fuck Cas, give me a minute..."
Castiel tasted of spice and Heineken and boiling desire. The painful moan that broke his lips almost stalled Dean from his task but then they were inside.
Clothes flew in every direction. Dean barely had a chance to bolt the main door and flick on the lights. Pearlized plastic buttons from Castiel's shirt pinged when they hit the floor or wall or wherever. Dean heard the material of his under vest ripping as Castiel pulled it over his head. Their boots were gone before the hallway, jeans shucked outside their bedroom door, Dean made the final act by wrenching down Castiel's briefs with both hands, gasping to find the ex-angel rock hard. Castiel responded by biting down on Dean's shoulder, marking him with his teeth. Then Cas sank to his knees scraping his teeth over hipbones and sucking a hickey into Dean's sensitive inner thigh.
"Good, Cas, good" was all he could mutter as encouragement.
Dean walked backwards with Castiel's hands on his shoulders. He allowed the frenzied urgency to push him into the mattress. Castiel was on top of him, straddling his stomach, his cock neglected behind that body, straining and hitting Castiel's back. Then there was side mouth and top lip kissing. Dean nipped at Castiel's nose. Then Cas sucked at Dean's bottom lip. Dean clawed at the sheets under his hands, not caring that he was turning into a gooey mess under Castiel's attention and touch. Cas kissed his eyelids and puffed the word "Lube?" into Dean's ear.
"Off" was the only way Dean could manage to tell Castiel he needed to move. He twisted sideways pulling the beside drawer out awkwardly with an upside-down hand. He passed over the astroglide and a condom.
"I am not diseased." Castiel sounded mightily insulted, "Are you giving me this to protect my health?"
"What? No." Dean stumbled, "I haven't... I wasn't with Paul and it's been a long time..."
"It's OK Dean," Castiel said as he flung the condom vehemently across the room, "I want to feel my skin on yours."
Dean gulped and nodded. He thought for a second he had ruined the mood and was internally kicking himself when Castiel made his own cockblocking request asking if Dean would prefer to get on his hands and knees as anal copulation was reputedly less painful in that position. Dean almost called it a night, but when he didn't turn over, Castiel took each of Dean's ankles in turn and pushed his legs back, straining Dean's thigh muscles with a pleasant tightness. Then he took Dean's only half hard cock in his hand and applied pressure to the base. Dean's body responded to the touch. He looked up to see Castiel's mussed hair between his legs before that mouth wrapped around his ball sack and sucked. Freaking Glory. Dean didn't know if he said that aloud. Then it was all Castiel. His lips around Dean's head, tongue laving his slit, taking him deeper, freaking humming around Dean's cock, while his hand continued to squeeze at the base with just the right amount of pleasure to keep Dean on edge. When he could form semi-coherent thoughts he told himself that Castiel needed this, that his grace had been ripped from him, that Naomi and Metatron had stolen Castiel's will and that he needed to be in control now, but mostly Dean was a cauldron of sensation and fucking need.
Castiel's lubed up fingers marked a path from Dean's balls to his hole. The lube was lukewarm, cold only for the heat from Castiel's burning digits.
"So beautiful."
Dean snorted.
"No! You are. It is. All along here..." Castiel's tongue traced the path of his fingers and then tapped a circle around Dean's entrance. "... and this bud, this furled skin... I remade its perfection..." The finger pressed and breached him. "... I counted the whorls and reformed their pattern..." Castiel leaned forward, a drop of perspiration fell from his forehead before he licked the underside of Dean's cock.
Dean was lost. He could hear Castiel's voice praising his body but not the words. The cadence and the reverent tone made Dean's skin tingle all over his body as if a low electric current was running through him.
Contact was broken and Dean heard the squeezing of the lube bottle. There was a second finger but Castiel distracted him with his teeth grazing over the hickey on his thigh.
"Cas." Dean croaked.
"Yes Dean?"
Dean didn't know. "You. Here."
"I am here." Castiel took the tip of Dean's cock back into his mouth, hollowed his cheeks and sank down in one motion. Cas's mouth was soft and warm. The inexpert, just tipping the wrong side of pain, scrape of teeth made Dean grind his own pearly whites.
"Cas, you gotta cover your teeth, man."
If Castiel heard him, he didn't respond. Three fingers pushed lube into his passage. Dean wanted to tell Castiel to curl up his digits like Paul had done when he had fingered him, but he pushed Paul out of his head and went with the sensation of Cas stretching him. Then the fingers were gone and Castiel's lips were gone.
Dean opened his eyes to see Castiel covering his length in lube and then lowering his body so that the glistening cock was gone from his line of sight.
"Dean?"
"Mmpf."
"You good?"
"Kiss?"
Castiel moved between Dean's legs. Dean's thighs protested the strain. Cas's lips hovered over his. Dean's tongue licked up, tasting the lube in Castiel's mouth and vowing to buy flavored the next time.
"You gonna?" Dean's hand found Cas's slicked up boner and gripped him as if testing for readiness.
Sliding back down, Castiel scissored Dean a final time.
"This body, your body, Dean, I know every piece. I can no longer see your DNA, your chemical bonds, the blood rushing through your veins, but I remember. This body is my charge," Castiel pushed into Dean on the word charge.
Dean's breath was taken. It was almost too much. It burned and forced its way inside him. A nanosecond flash of Hell was wiped away by Castiel's praise, "So good Dean. I knew it would be. Feels so good. My body in your body, connected, together."
Dean gritted his teeth, not so good until his body adjusted. "Move Cas!"
Castiel pulled all the way out, and Dean's eyes widened at the sudden emptiness. Cas didn't believe that was all there was to the act, did he? It turned out that he didn't because as Dean parted his lips to protest, Cas rammed back into him, causing Dean to bite down hard.
"Fuck Dean, so good."
The profanity from the former angel went over Dean's head, as he set a punishing pace, freaking pistoning him. Then finally Castiel flexed his hips changing his angle, catching Dean's prostate.
"I apologize, Dean." Dean's mind was blowing.
"I was caught up." Dean's prostate was hit again.
"I failed to connect here," and a-freaking-gain.
Dean literally saw stars. He reached for Castiel wanting to touch him. Cas's palms pressed down on his. They pushed their hands into each other's palms. Castiel's balls drew up. He was muttering incomprehensible sounds now, maybe Enochian, maybe just noises. Dean clenched around Castiel with his legs, with his muscles, as Castiel came, filling him with hot come, coating his insides with part of his essence.
Castiel sagged forward, held up, it seemed by only their connected hands. He uncoiled the fingers of his right hand from Dean's left to wildly jerk Dean off, giving that final push Dean needed to spill like a fountain. The sight made Castiel smile, "Perfect."
Dean flopped back on the pillows as Castiel pulled slowly out. He prepared to steel himself to move to the shower but Cas's mouth was back down there, cleaning him, rimming his gaping hole, then pushing back in leaking come.
"I like you filled with me. I like that this..." Castiel drew his pointer finger along the inner seam of his rim, "... is in you."
Castiel used his left hand to lower Dean's aching legs and then coming alongside him used the middle finger to rob a lingering spot of come from Dean's foreskin. He crawled up the mattress and offered the two marked fingers to Dean's mouth. This was fucking dirty sex. Dean was solidly impressed and turned on in ways he just hadn't been expecting. He opened his mouth accepting the long digits and the salty bitter taste of their combined spends. He sucked on then, laved them as if it was Cas's cock he was blowing.
Cas's pupils darkened, he stuttered, "Dean, Oh I'm..."
Dean pushed against the fingers with his tongue telling Cas to withdraw, and he did. He lifted his head, catching Castiel's bicep with his arm, pulling him down. "Spit licked rimming another night, OK?"
Cas nodded before Dean pressed their clammy foreheads together.
"It was good?" Dean heard the tremor in the question.
"You couldn't tell?"
"I have only observation for reference. It was my first experience." Castiel turned his head breaking eye contact.
"Popped your cherry good then." Dean laughed, "Come on Cas, shower time."
"You are going to wash me out of you." Castiel pouted.
"Come on Mr. Adorable Pouty Lips." Dean's body ached as he began to move across the bed. He rolled his eyes at the continued mini-sulk, "When I stand up it is gonna leak out. It's a bit gross." Dean pulled at Castiel's arm.
"I wish there was a way to keep it inside you."
Dean kept shtum about butt plugs. He didn't rule it out for future experimentation, but he didn't want to give Castiel ideas. He must have made an expression showing he was assessing something because he was called out as he pulled the reluctant man towards the showers.
"You have thought of a way."
"If you were all mojo'ed up you could probably just make it stay there." Dean covered.
"That would be an abuse of Grace." Castiel was grinning when Dean craned his neck round, "but a good one. You were pleasured Dean? Weren't you? I was. It was. We..." Dean saw doubts surfacing in Castiel's baby blues. "... I hurt you. You cried out in pain."
"Fuck it Cas. It was all good. OK? You gotta ride through the pain to get to the prize." Dean for sure was not telling Cas that he was aching now. It was gonna be an uncomfortable drive in the morning.
"OK. I thought it was good."
Dean had enough of the word 'good' for the night. He turned on the faucet and as the water steamed up, he dragged Castiel into the shower with him, "Good? It was freaking awesome."
Castiel's eyes shone with something more than pleasure and pride. He sucked a mark under Dean's ear as the water poured over them. "Love you" he mouthed into Dean's skin.
Dean tensed and swallowed hard. "Come 'ere." He didn't say it back, couldn't say it, but he showed Castiel by pulling him tight and then cleaning him devotedly with gentle circles of wiping flannel and shower wet kisses.