Work Text:
*Back in black,I hit the sack*
Dean's alarm clock is yelling at him from his nightstand at an ungodly volume at what he likes to refer to as the asscrack of dawn.
“Mpf,” he groans, swinging blindly at his night stand sending the screaming device to the floor. Normally Dean would sleep in until about noon on a Saturday. But no, Sammy just had to go and pick today of all days to want the next of a series of applicants to be their new roommate to come check out the apartment.Three. Three is the number of people who have been turned away so far.
While he may not be the best judge of character, he likes to think that he’s done a good job of saving them from the craziness that has shown up on their doorstep.
The first guy had seemed nice enough, he was polite and had spoken about his job as a dental assistant with a passion that Dean just didn’t understand. But hey, more power to him right? Wrong. Midway through Deans reply of what he did for a living “Mr. Tooth Toucher” himself (as Dean had taken to calling him) had decided to reach right out and stick his finger in Dean’s mouth. “ oh, sorry. You just have very nice teeth.)That had put the kibosh on that right there.
Applicant number two had waltzed in, examining everything with a judgmental eye before quickly stating that he would not be staying in the guest bedroom but would in fact be taking over Dean’s larger room with the attached bathroom. Oh, and he wasn’t a fan of the couch so that would have to go also. Sammy had escorted him out the door, polite as always as Dean threw a fit in the background. The fucking audacity.
Number 3 had walked through the door and all but molested Sam right on the spot. She had seemed okay on the phone, maybe a little hyper but still nice and not overtly weird. The second Becky had seen his moose of a brother leaning against the kitchen counter, bowl of shredded wheat in his hands ( which come the fuck on Sammy, shredded wheat? Tastes like cardboard and sadness.) she attacked. Her 5 foot frame had Sams 6’4 gigantor body pressed tightly to the counter top, light shining off her braces when she attempted to smile seductively. Sammy had tried to let her down easy, squeezing out from her hold. It took them another 10 minutes before she left and every single one of those minutes was spent with Dean trying to suppress his laughter.
So, todays the day. Number 4 is coming to meet them at 1 and Dean prays this will be the last time. Sammy had texted him the guy's name and number last week and Dean had saved it under “last chance” in his contacts not bothering to remember the name. Castle or something. Constantinople for all he really gives a fuck.
Trudging down the hall to the kitchen, Dean makes his way over to the coffee pot, pulling a mug down from the cupboard, mood already lifting at the thought of caffeine. Only to be ruined as he spots a little note stuck to the counter in front of the coffee pot letting Dean know there is in fact no coffee and he will need to pick some up today. He already hates today and needs it to be over with right now. Dragging himself back the way he came he goes about his normal morning routine, albeit a little grumpy, and heads out the door.
It’s a nice day out, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping and Dean has been meaning to walk a little more. All those bacon cheeseburgers are bound to catch up sooner or later. Tucking his keys in his pocket he heads to the nearest coffee shop.
The walk was a stupid idea. Of course everybody else would be thinking the same thing. Nice weather = people.
The sidewalks are kind of crowded once he makes it into the busier part of town where all the shops are located. People bussiling in and out, standing on the curb waiting to cross the street and apparently stopping right in the middle of the walkway and blocking everything. Muttering under his breath, Dean tries to side step the group of girls who were blocking his way only to run smack into the back of someone.
“Fuck, man.” Dean complains, pulling away from the tan trench coat that covers the man’s back. Why the hell is this guy in a trench coat? Doesn’t he know it’s nice out?
The bluest eyes Dean has ever seen blink up at him when the man turns around. Dean let’s his gaze slide over the man’s features, from the ridiculous black hair on the man’s head, sticking up at odd angles, the wild blue of his eyes to his straight nose, his high cheekbones and the rough looking stubble that lines his jaw before stopping at soft looking pink lips. “My apologies,” Blue eyes rumbles, voice deep and rough, sending a tingle down Dean's spine. Jesus Christ. He doesn’t have time for this shit. He wants to get his coffee and be done with it.
“Yeah, I’d say. Who the fuck just stops in the middle of the sidewalk like that? “
The man tilts his head, eyes squinting when he replies “ I had stopped to admire the bees. I did make sure to step off to the side, so as to not be in the way.”
So he looks like a tax accountant and speaks like an English teacher, all proper and shit, and for some reason that irritates Dean.
“Yeah, well good job ya did on that, slick.”
“I-“ Taxman starts before Dean barrels on.
“Didn’t your mom ever teach you the sidewalk is for walking, not for watching bugs or whatever you were doing? Some people have things to do.” He’s being an asshole and he knows it, can’t find it in himself to care.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, she did. Hence why I stepped to the side, you see. Ive also apologized for the inconvenience.” The guy says as he gestures to where he is indeed stepped pretty far over to the side of the walkway , before continuing “ She also taught me to have manners which I am now coming to realize must not have been a common occurrence.” The scowl on the man’s face and the almost growl of his voice as it fills with annoyance is doing something to Dean that he refuses to acknowledge and he can feel the blush rising to his cheeks. That shit can stop right now.
“Manners?” He scoffs, “are you serious?”
“Someone certainly should teach you some, yes.”
“Well buddy, it ain’t going to be you.” A brief thought of being bent over and a hand coming down on his ass over and over while blue eyes stare down at him flashes through his mind before his focus returns just in time to hear the man’s reply.
“How unfortunate, I imagine it would be a wonderful learning experience for you ” he states, easy as that. Like he was commenting on the weather and not short circuiting Dean's brain.
By the time Dean’s brain comes back online he’s left blinking at the open air, Mr. Manners no longer there.
Scanning the area around him he catches a flash of black hair and trench coat as it turns the corner up ahead. Jogging a little to catch up he calls out to the man.
“Hey, wait!”
“Yes?” There’s the head tilt again, and Dean does not find it cute, he doesn’t.
“Did you mean it? The umm.. teaching me manners thing?” Dean asks, voice barely above a whisper, hand coming up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck.
The only answer Dean gets is a truly wicked smile and a motion to follow.
They walk in silence, Dean sneaking glances whenever he thinks he can get away with it. Not once has he caught the other man looking at him, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. He’s on edge, jittery and this guy is calm as a cucumber. Oh god, what if Dean is taking this the wrong way and the man is going to set him down and talk to him about the golden rule or some shit? He’s so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t realize the man has stopped in front of him and proceeds to run right into him again, this time when his body hits he’s face to face, large hands coming up to wrap around his arms to steady him.
“Oh, umm sorry.” Dean pushes out quickly, attempting to take a step back, failing when fingers tighten around his forearms.
“Mmm,” the man hums, a small smile spreading “ you’re already learning.” Finally releasing his hold on Dean and in turn making Dean release the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, he gestures to the door they’ve stopped in front of, “this is me, shall we?” He asks, before opening the door and heading up the stairs without waiting for a reply. Dean should leave, he’s probably got this all wrong and is about to make a fool of himself. He should turn tail and run while the guys not looking.
He follows him up the stairs.
The apartment is small, white walls and dark wood floors. Boxes piled neatly throughout the rooms and walls void of any pictures. A small green couch is tucked under a ledge separating the living room from the kitchen.
“Just moving in? “ Deans asks, still eyeing the couch. From what he can tell there isn’t a table, or even any chairs, or hell even a tv.
“Out, actually. My lease is up and I’m in the process of trying to find a different living space.”
“Oh, uh cool.” Smooth Winchester, real smooth.
“So…” the man starts,watching Dean. It takes longer than it should for Dean to realize the man is looking for a name.
“Dean”, he blurts, “uh my name. It’s Dean.” What the hell is happening to him? He sounds like a fucking idiot.
“Hello Dean,” good god, he could come in his pants just from that. How does his own name sound so fucking good?
“And you?” Dean asks, feeling the color rise in his face. He wonders if the other man can tell. “ What do I call you?”
“Castiel.You may call me Cas if you’d like. Would you like to sit?” He gestures towards the small couch, making his way over waiting for a reply.
“Uh yeah, thanks.”
“That’s very good Dean, saying thank you. That’s a good start.” Dean just stares, is this guy for real? He honestly invited Dean over to learn actual manners and is now complimenting him for saying thanks? Deans flushing again, this time in embarrassment for absolutely taking this the wrong way. He’s trying to figure out how to get out of here without sounding like an asshole when he sees Cas sit down, trench coat and suit jacket laid over the arm of the couch.
He’s still staring when Cas blinks those big blue eyes at him and asks “ May I kiss you, Dean?”
Okay, what the fuck. Deans getting a headache from all the back and forth his brain is doing. Is he here to ‘learn manners’ or is he here to ‘learn manners’. With the kissing being offered he’d like to assume it’s the latter, so with a nod so quick he makes his way to the couch.
He sets himself down on the edge, hands rubbing nervously over his thighs, watching Cas watch him. Eyes laser focused.
“Dean?”
“Hmm?”
“I asked you a question, it would be rude not to answer.”
“Yeah” Dean says quickly, eyes darting from Cas’ to his lips and back.
“Yeah what, Dean?” Cas inquires , and fuck. He’s going to make him say it. He’s dead serious when he looks at Dean, waiting patiently.
“Yes, Cas.” Dean breathes,” Yeah, you can- you can kiss me.”
“Very good, Dean.” Cas tells him before slowly moving closer, hand coming up to cup Dean's cheek, Dean's eyes slipping closed at the touch.
The first press of soft lips against his has his already addled brain melting. The thing is, it’s just a small closed mouth kiss, a simple touching of lips, something you might’ve done in 6th grade at the end of the dance with your heart hammering. It shouldn’t have Deans cock pressing against the seam of his jeans and his fingers gripping his own knees. But he’s been keyed up pretty much since Cas’ little comment about teaching him manners. So when Cas pulls back a fraction of an inch only to tilt his head and press back in, thick bottom lip coming to rest in the dip between his, Dean sighs and reaches out, only to catch air as Cas pulls back, no longer in Dean's space.
“Did you enjoy that Dean?” Cas asks him, which is kind of weird but whatever.
“Yeah, uhh.. yeah I did.” Dean says dumbly.
“Would you like more?” Which might be an even weirder question. Don’t people just kiss and if they wanna do it again, they just do?
“ Yeah”
“What do you say, Dean?” Cas is staring at him now, watching, waiting. Dean stares back trying to figure out what it is he’s supposed to say. He said yeah, what more does he want? It probably takes too long but Dean thinks he knows so he’s going to test it out and if he’s wrong he’ll only be alot embarrassed but hey. It’s worth a shot.
“Can I have another kiss?” He asks, putting more confidence in his voice than he actually feels at the moment.
“That’s good, but I think you can do even better. Why don’t you try again?”
At some point Cas had moved closer and is slowly trailing his fingers back and forth across the heated skin on the back of Dean’s neck above his shirt. It’s almost too much right now, it’s not nearly enough.Clearing his throat and trying to regain focus Dean tries again.
“Castiel, can you please kiss me again?” Dean asks, hoping it’s what Cas wanted to hear and he’ll get to kiss him again. “Please?” He tacks on for good measure, it couldn’t hurt.
Cas’ fingers tighten on the back of his neck, quick then they’re back to their slow drag. The smile that graces his beautiful face is wicked. Deans so hard it hurts.
Cas’ reply of “You may,” is pressed against Dean's lips. A barely there touch before he’s leaning back again, this time Dean follows, leans forward and barely presses his mouth against Cas. Cas allows it briefly then looks expectantly back at Dean. “ What do you say, Dean?”
“Fuck,” he breathes, eyes darting back to meet Cas’, seeing amusement reflecting back at him in sparkling blue eyes and a slight shake of his head.
“Thank you , Cas.”
The next time their lips meet there’s a little more pressure, a bit of a different angle and Dean’s whispering out “thank you, Cas.” Before he can tell he’s doing it. And it goes like that, Cas kisses him, giving him barely anything and Dean just fucking thanks him for it like he’s being gifted everything good in the world.
10 minutes or 10 hours later Dean is squirming,gripping his thigh hard in one hand, fingers of his other hand wrapped around the edge of a couch cushion, trying desperately not to give in to the urge to just push his fingers through the soft looking black hair. His heart is thundering in his chest, and Cas must be able to hear it, the people in the house next door can probably hear it. He can’t handle this anymore. He’s about to snap.
“Please?” He rushes out between one kiss and the next. “ Please Cas, can I have more?” He’s not sure what exactly he’s asking for, he just knows he needs more.
Before he knows what’s happening Cas has him by his thighs and is tugging him over and onto his lap, ass sat on thick thighs close but not close enough to the spot on Cas’s lap he’d like to be,hands coming out to brace himself on the back of the couch and fuck if that doesn’t turn him on. The girls he dates certainly don’t pull or push him around and the few guys he’s been with aren’t really the type either. Deans a pretty big guy, over 6ft and pretty well built. The guys he gets with usually end up being smaller than him, with him being the one pushing and pulling. This is new and fuck if Dean don’t like it. He thunks his head down on Cas's shoulder trying to calm his heart down, hell his brain and his dick could take a little breather too if he’s being completely honest.
Warm hands are sliding up his back and over his shoulder blades before coming back to wrap around his waist. Dean can feel all 10 fingers practically burning through the thin material of his t shirt and fuck Cas’s hands are big, can feel his fingers where they’re spread out over his lower back, thumbs digging into his hip bones in the front.
Dean's fingers dig into the soft green fabric of the couch when one of Cas’s big hands return to the back of his neck. He taps twice, waiting for Dean to lift his head and look at him. He waits until their eyes meet before he tells Dean that he can indeed have more. Dean leans in to seal his lips back against Cas’s mouth only for his jaw to be gripped hard and his head to be tilted at the last moment. He hears a whine and refuses to believe that it could possibly have come from him. The look in Cas’s eyes tells him that whining will not get him anywhere and it’s likely not appreciated.
Soft lips connect with the sweaty skin of his neck, right at the edge of his tshirt. Another one lands slightly higher, dry and light. Dean clenches and unclenches his hands, this is both exactly what he wants and so far from it, it’s dizzying.
When Cas’s mouth comes back open and wet on the front of his throat , right against his Adam’s apple Dean nearly blacks out. His hands move on their own accord, reaching up to grab onto Cas before he stops himself.
Dean looks back at the man below him when he pulls back, and if it weren’t for the slight sheen of sweat on his forehead, making some of his hair stick there, he seems completely unaffected. His lips are pink and wet and Dean can’t fucking breathe. He just tilts his head back, looks up at Dean from under his lashes, his eyes roam Dean’s face, like he’s searching for something. Deans praying he can’t tell how out of it he already is from basically nothing. He must like what he sees though because he slides his hand back around his neck to tug Dean down sliding his now wet lips against Dean's once before pulling back again.
“You can touch me, Dean. Thank you for waiting for permission.”
Permission. Thank you for waiting for permission is what Cas just said to him. Yeah, he knows consent is sexy and all that jazz. He agrees. Consent is everything, but he can’t seriously think of a time when he’s been fooling around with someone and had asked for ‘permission’ to put his hands on them. But here he is, hands clenched so hard they’re beginning to cramp, not touching the gorgeous man underneath him because he apparently had been waiting for permission. What is going on with him today? Did he wake up on a different planet, maybe another dimension? Whatever, he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Fuck, thank you Cas.” He rushes out as he finally sinks his fingers into the mess of black hair. He leans forward to nose against his temple, moving down, rubbing against Cas’s stubble lightly before trailing his nose to that little spot behind his ear, inhaling deeply when he reaches the soft hair there. Fuck, he smells good. He licks his lips quickly, planting them just under Cas’s ear, only to be tugged back by the grip on his neck.
“I said you may touch me, not that you may kiss me Dean. “ his voice is stern, but he doesn’t look angry, it still makes something sour in Dean’s gut..
“I’m sorry Cas.”
Cas’s lips twitch up , the start of a smile before he asks, “and what are you sorry for, Dean?”
“I’m sorry for kissing you without your permission. I won’t do it again.”
The smile is slowly spreading across Cas’s face, and it gives Dean confidence to keep going.
“Thank you for letting me touch you, I’m sorry I kissed you without your permission first.” He ducks his head down, confidence slipping,”I won’t do it again.” Dean tells him like a kid who was caught in the cookie jar.
“Thank you for apologizing Dean, I forgive you.” And just like that the sour feeling in his stomach is gone, leaving behind the nerves; the butterflies flitting in between. “You’re so good.”
All the air in the Dean's body is released in one harsh exhale. His fingers tighten in Cas’s hair and he just barely catches the moan trying to escape. He closes his eyes tight and lowers his head, reigning himself back in. His next words are whispered into the space between them while he uncurls his fingers and rests them against broad shoulders.
“Thank you, Castiel.”
“You like that,” it’s a statement, not even a hint of question involved. “You like when I tell you that you’re good.”
He uses his long fingers to tilt Dean's face up, waiting to catch his eyes.
“Don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, blood once again rushing to his face.
“Dean.”
“Yeah, um yes. Yes Cas.” He rushes, “ Sorry Cas.”
“Yes what, Dean?” This guy and his fucking questions. Doesn’t he know Dean is slowly losing his mind? Fucking grammar police, manners having asshole is just sitting there calm as could be as Dean is surely going to fucking die.
“I like when you uh,I like when you tell me I’m good,”
“You like when I tell you you’re good.” His hands are back on Deans hips, fingers digging in almost hard enough to bruise. Dean wishes he’d squeeze harder. “ Do you like that better than me telling you that you’re doing good? Saying you are good as opposed to what you’re doing is good?” Cas asks him, and waits like he genuinely wants an answer from Dean whose brain had left the chat almost as soon as he sat on the couch.
“Um” he starts, eloquent as ever, “both?” He phrases it as a question, not sure of the right answer, if there even is one.
“Are you asking me, or telling me Dean?”
“Telling. I like both, but uh yeah, maybe I do like it better when you say umm” he can’t look at Cas anymore. Can’t meet his eyes when he’s saying this. “ I like it better when you say I’m good. Feels good, Cas.” His face is on fucking fire, when he looks back up.
“And if I were to call you a good boy?” Cas asks, clearly trying to kill Dean.
He couldn’t have stopped the moan that spills from his mouth if he’d tried.
“God, yes, fuck. Yes, Cas. Please?” What he’s asking for, he has no clue. At this point he doesn’t even care. He wants whatever Cas will give him and he needs it right now.
Cas makes a little humming noise in the back of his throat removing one of his hands from Dean's hips and dipping under his shirt. He slides it up, long fingers dragging over the dips of his rib cage before brushing against his nipple, causing Dean’s breath to hitch and his fingers to tighten on Cas shoulders.
“Such a good boy, Dean.” His breath is hot against the skin of Dean's neck, wet lips parting and tongue sneaking out to feel the thump thump thump of Deans pulse beneath his skin. “You’re so good for me, baby.”
“Shit, Cas.” Dean tilts his head back, silently begging for Cas to keep going. He’s shaking and he knows Cas can feel it. Can probably tell how hard it is for Dean to hold back like he is. He must hear the pleas running through Dean's head because he doesn’t stop, he keeps mouthing at Dean's neck, lips trailing over his jaw, he uses the hand not currently teasing his hardened nipple to tug on Dean’s hair, guiding his head where he wants. Dean’s eyes are shut tight, and his mouth is open, panting into the air above him as Cas glides his lips over the scratchy stubble of Dean's jaw. He places another chaste kiss to the corner of Dean's open mouth, quick and teasing before moving back to mouthing along his neckline. When he closes his lips around the skin where his neck meets his shoulder and sucks at the same time a fingernail scrapes a crossed his nipple Dean is done.
He’s got his hands fisted in Cas’s hair so fast, tugging his head up and pulling it back so he can look down on him. Wild blue eyes stare back, and Dean doesn’t know what to do. He leans his forehead against Cas’s, damp hair sticking to them both. “ I’m sorry, I’m sorry Cas. I just— I just gotta. Please Cas?”
Everything happens so fast after that, one minute he’s desperate, touch starved and begging and the next Cas has him shirtless, hot mouth leaving sloppy kisses across his chest, teeth nipping. His pants are unbuttoned, making room for Cas’s hand which have made their way to his ass, using his grasp to grind Dean down onto his lap. Cas’s mouth closes around his nipple, sharp teeth digging slightly at the same time he pulls Dean down as he rolls his hips up and it has Dean in a frenzy. Hands clutching in Cas’s hair, sliding across his back, fisting in his hair as he grinds down hard.
“Thank you,Cas. Thank you, thank you, thank you.” It’s pouring out of him now, thank you’s and pleas flowing between the moans. He’s so, so close.
“Good boy.”Cas rumbles. Fuck, he didn’t think that voice could get any deeper, he was wrong. “ Do you want more baby, hmm?”
“Yes, more please?” Dean is not passed begging, he will gladly get on his knees and grovel right now.
“Can you kneel for me baby? Right here,” he asks, gesturing behind Dean to the space on the floor between Cas’s spread legs. “Can you be a good boy for me and do that?”
Dean nods so fast he gets lightheaded, probably looks stupid with it. Tight fingers on his thigh stop his movement as he goes to move. When he looks up and meets Cas’ gaze he knows what he did wrong.
“Yes, I can do that.” He replies quickly as possible before scrambling to the floor when his thighs are released. Cas told him he could touch him before, but this is different and Deans unsure how to proceed. He doesn’t want to do the wrong thing and have the chance that everything stops. He looks up at Cas, hands on his own thighs and asks politely as he possibly can—
“Can I touch you Cas, please?
He’d feel stupid for how many times he’s said please if it weren’t for his dick taking up what must be 95% of his blood supply right now and for the glint in Cas’s eyes.
For the first time Cas doesn’t answer verbally. He leans forward, fingers cradling Dean's jaw and presses a soft kiss to his lips before settling back and bringing his hands to his belt, before Dean’s hands jump out to stop him.
“Can I— can I do it?” Cas smiles softly at him, a small nod giving him the go ahead.
Dean's hands are shaking as he slides the black leather from the buckle, eyes flicking up to Cas as he slowly starts pulling. When Cas doesn’t object he tugs a little harder, removing the belt and setting it aside before bringing his fingers to the button of Cas’s pants once again waiting for an objection. When none is made he flicks the button open, grabbing onto the zipper and slowly pulling it down.
He tries to pry the slacks open a little farther, give him some room to explore, to touch, but the unforgiving fabric of the suit pants doesn’t budge. Dean doesn’t whine, he doesn’t. He whispers a quiet I’m sorry just because he felt like it is all.
A shiny black shoe comes to rest between his spread thighs on the bulge threatening to escape his pants. Cas stares at him expectantly, glancing down and back up hoping to convey his wants. Dean thinks he knows. He slides his left hand up the leg of Cas’s pants, not far, just enough to wrap around the skin of his ankle before pulling on the laces, loosening them where they’re holding the shoe tight around Cas’s foot. He lifts Cas’s leg gently, pulling the shoe off and setting it to the side with the belt, glancing at Cas quickly before tucking his finger into the black sock at the back of his ankle and slowly sliding it off Cas’ foot. Dean is not a foot man, but he’s gotta admit Cas has nice feet. He bends his head down, placing the smallest kiss against the prominent arch, making Cas curl his toes and let out a shaky breath.
“Thank you, Dean.” Oh wow. Dean can see the appeal. That sounds nice. He gives the other foot the same treatment, before they’re back flat on the floor on either side of Dean's legs. When Cas stands up to let his pants slide to the floor Dean's face is at the perfect height, all he’d have to do is lean forward just an inch or two. He stays put no matter how much it’s killing him. Cas looks so damn pleased as he sits down. “ You’re doing so good, Dean. You may touch me now, however you’d like. I will let you know if I would like you to stop.”
His next thank you is pressed into the black fabric of Cas’s boxer briefs. He presses his mouth there, to the crease of his thigh, breathes in deep, Cas’s scent strong and addicting. He smells kind of like sweat, a little like the air before a thunderstorm and fresh laundry soap. He smells like fucking Heaven. The groan slips out, and he can’t even be bothered to care. He presses open mouthed kisses along the crease of his thigh, moving to the other side before moving to where he’s sure they both want him to be. He settles his lips over Cas’s balls first, laps at one, then the other, breathing hot through the fabric. Cas’ thigh twitches under Dean’s fingers. When he closes his mouth over the head of Cas’s cock through the damp fabric he doesn’t know who moans loader, him or Cas. He’s willing to bet it was probably him.
Hemakes quick work of Cas’ boxers, sending them flying across the room behind him. The sight in front of him nearly sends him over the edge.Cas is huge, the head a deep red and weeping where it’s curved against his stomach. Honestly it’s the prettiest dick he’s ever seen, it’s so perfect he could cry.
“Fuck cas, thank you. Thank you.” He’s got his tongue pressed to the base before Cas could even think of a response. He drags his tongue, wet and sloppy up the underside of Cas’ dick before starting back at the bottom and doing it again. He feels the small twitch of Cas’s hips everytime his mouth reaches the tip, so close to what they both obviously want. Dean’s been suffering this whole time, he can hold out for a few more minutes if he can make Cas feel even a fraction of how he’s felt. Cas’ balls are hot and heavy when he sucks them one after the other into his mouth, tongue laving over smooth skin. He mouths along his inner thighs stopping to suck a mark into the pale skin near the crease of his thigh. Cas jolts as the first suck, before settling back down with a breathy sigh. He repeats the process on the other leg before moving back to sliding his tongue up up up the leaking cock in front of him. Making Cas’ thighs tense up under his fingers.
“Do you enjoy that, Cas? Do you want more?” He asks, flashing his patented panty dropper smile, laughing inside at the slight tremor running through Cas’s body. Leaning back in, tongue already out, he’s ready to meet heated skin when a hand wraps around his face, fingers digging into his cheek, thumb digging into the other, stopping him just in front of his prize.
“Do you think you’re funny, Dean?” Cas does not seem amused, and Dean no longer finds himself funny.
He does his best to shake his head against Cas’s hard grip. “Nobody likes a brat. Are you a brat, Dean?” Dean doesn’t like that one bit, it doesn’t sound nearly as good as when he was being called a good boy. Cas releases his face, and Dean has to work his jaw a little before speaking up.
“No, Castiel. I’m sorry, that wasn’t funny.”
“I don’t know Dean, you don’t seem sorry to me. Maybe I was wrong, maybe you can’t be taught.” Shit, Dean hates that, hates that he was getting exactly what he wanted and yet he had to run his mouth and ruin it. Maybe Cas was right in the first place and he really did need to learn some manners. Fuck. He’s not going to give this up now, he’ll show Cas that he can be better.
“ I can Cas. I can, I promise. Please let me show you, let me be good.” Dean pleads, trying his hardest to perfect Sammy’s puppy eyes, “ let me show you I can be a good boy. I’ll be a good boy for you, Cas. Please?” When he’s done he realizes his hands are clasped together, arms rested on Cas’ thighs. He’s honest to god on his knees begging a man he doesn’t know to let him suck his dick. Begging. On his knees. To suck a dick. What the fuck?
Taking a chance and praying it doesn’t backfire, he lowers his hands , grabbing onto Cas’ foot before bringing it up and pressing a kiss to the bone above his big toe, moving forward and leaving another against the arch, then his ankle bone, whispers of “ Please,” and “I’ll be good”, pressed just as softly into the skin where his lips touch. Cas doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t tell Dean to stop either, and he doesn’t push him off. When Dean reaches his knee he presses an opened mouth kiss to the side of his kneecap, before staring over on the other foot. Soft kiss to the top of his foot, pressed to the arch. His tongue comes out when he kisses at his ankle, lips closing around the bone there briefly before continuing up his leg. When he reaches the knee he reaches up and sets his hands on Cas hips, thumbs rubbing circles there. He drops his voice low, quiet when he asks again. “Please?”
He waits for an answer from the blue eyed man staring back at him, they’ve been watching him intently since his lips first touched his foot. He looks and looks and Dean wonders what he sees. Can he see how desperate Dean is, how sorry he actually feels, and how much he legitimately wants to make up for it.
He doesn’t say anything as he reaches out and threads his fingers through the long hair at the top of Dean's head. He pulls Dean back in, directs his head back down, pressing Deans face into his groin and fuck that shouldn’t be so hot. When Dean did it himself that’s one thing but being pushed down, nose pressed to sweat slick skin, it’s sick. Dean dick is fucking throbbing. He inhales that smell again, flicking his tongue out, just barely making contact before his head is being yanked back at an almost painful angle.
“Okay Dean, show me how good you can be for me. We’ll see if you can change my mind.”
Dean doesn’t know if the “thank you” is necessary but he says it anyway before he’s wrapping his lips around the heated skin of Cas’ cock. His tongue swipes over the pulsing head, gently nudging at the slit collecting the precome there. He groans, long and loud and he knows Cas felt it vibrate through him cause the next thing he knows his head is being held still and Cas is rolling his hips, thick cock sliding through his spit slick lips. He’s being gentle, not pushing too far in, moving slowly. He’s still watching Dean, watching himself where he disappears into Dean's mouth. On the next withdrawal Dean pulls his head back just a fraction, licking at the tip when it moves back towards him.
“Fuck my face, Cas.”
“And just what is it you think I’m doing?”
“You’re fucking my face,” he says embarrassed. Cas’ eyebrow ticks up, reaching toward his hair line and it really shouldn’t be that hot but at this point he’s pretty sure everything Cas does and says is the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.
“I— I just mean you can, uh, you can go harder. Take what you want, um I can take it.” He rushes out, unable to look away from Cas’s intense stare. “I can take it, I’ll be good.”
Cas must take his word for it , because his head is being held still again, and the thick clock is being pressed back between his lips,thrusts fast and deep, head of his cock sliding across the back of his tongue on every thrust in. Dean flicks his eyes up, trying to catch Cas’, nodding as best as he can when he does, forcing his head down a little further on the next thrust in, the fat head of Cas’ dick hitting the back of his throat. He gags, it’s been a while since he’s last done this, but he fucking loves it and the moan he lets loose tells Cas that too. Cas does it again and again, until the room is filled with the sounds of Dean gagging and the wet messy noises accompanying it. It sounds obscene. Dean kind of loves it.
He can feel Cas thighs tremble under his fingers, can see the way his eyes are unfocused and the vein in his cock is throbbing against Dean's tongue. He’s close and Dean can’t fucking wait, he wants so badly to see Cas come.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck.. fuck.” Dean moans loud around his cock. He stares right back into Cas eyes waiting for hot liquid to spill over his tongue.
“Fuckkkkk” Cas groans, throwing his head back against the back of the couch. He tugs Dean off his cock, and for a second Dean thinks he’s gonna get come splattered over his face and he’s not mad at the idea, before confusion takes over when nothing happens and Cas is just holding Dean by his hair, his other hand running through his own and then scrubbing down his face. When he picks his head back up and looks at Dean he looks hungry, he looks like he’s going to eat Dean alive.
“ Come here. Get up here baby, up.”and then he’s tugging Dean up by his hair and a hand under his armpit. Once Dean is standing in front of him on shaky legs, boxers tenting out between the open V of his zipper, Cas reaches out, slowly like Dean’s a wild animal who might run if he moves too fast. Like he doesn’t have spit running down his chin and dripping onto his shirt where Cas just literally choked him on his dick. He gestures for Dean to take his shirt off, then he pulls Dean's pants down, helping him step out of them before tucking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. He starts to pull but he must notice the state of the fabric and he hesitates. The gray material stretched over Dean’s cock is dark and sticky where Deans been leaking for what feels like days.
Cas leans in, licks over the wet spot, takes the fabric into his mouth and sucks. Fuck, Deans going to pass out. He has to shut his eyes before he does something stupid like come in his pants like a fucking 14 year old.
“Oh, baby.” Cas coos, voice rising in pitch like he’s trying to soothe an actual infant, it makes Dean flush in embarrassment, being talked to like a child, especially while his dick is out. It makes him tremble. “ You’re soaking,” he says, like that’s a normal fucking thing to say, like that doesn’t make Dean want to claw his eyes out, like it doesn’t make Dean want to come. “You’re so wet.”
“Oh god” When Dean finally wills himself to look down again, he’s met with a devilish smile, full of sharp teeth and bad intentions. The coil in his groin winds tighter.
Cas settles himself back against the couch, for the first time looking like a normal person, perfect posture nowhere to be seen as he sprawls lazily leaning against the green fabric. He looks up at Dean, gestures for Dean to discard his boxers and pats his thigh, “ Come on, my sweet boy.” Dean settles down on his thighs, mind replaying ‘my sweet boy’ over and over again.
“Would you like to undo this for me, honey? Or would you like me to do it myself? You seemed to enjoy undressing me before.” He moves his fingers to the knot of his tie, tugging slightly, loosening it.
“Me, please.”
His whole body is shaking, tremors wracking his body as he reaches out. In his 27 years he can not think of a single other time that he has ever been this turned on, and he hasn’t even really been touched yet.
He gets the tie off pretty easily. The buttons cause him some trouble and by the third one he’s starting to get frustrated, Cas must be able to tell because he takes mercy on him, and helps him with the rest, leaning forward to press soft kisses to the exposed skin of his shoulder and neck.
“It’s okay, baby.” Cas is using that voice again, the baby voice. The one that makes Dean’s skin crawl in the best fucking way. “ Look at me, sweetheart.”
Dean opens his eyes, not even knowing when he closed them. He’s got his hands balled into fists resting on either side of Cas’ head, on the couch. His thighs are thrown over Cas, he’s hovering above his legs, down towards his knees, trying to stay still and not touch unless he’s told he’s allowed.
“Good boy.” He says it staring Dean right in the eye, “ So good baby boy.” If a meteor crashed into Earth right now and decimated everything Dean would die happy at that moment. Nothing has ever felt as good as hearing Cas’s rocky voice tell him he’s good and calling him sweet names.
He goes willingly when Cas grips his wrist and tugs him in, he settles his hands back on the thick muscle of Cas’s broad shoulders, it’s even better now that he’s shirtless, he can feel the sweat, can see it and if he leaned forward he’d be able to taste it. Fuck, he wants to taste it. He’s moved forward on Cas’s thighs now, and he locks his knees and fights against everything telling him to just drop down and grind himself up against Cas’s hard length. Cas’s body is beautiful, he’s tan and lean and his hipbones are probably the sexiest thing Dean has ever laid eyes on. He trails his fingers over the tattoo that covers his hip. Presses his thumb in hard when he feels Cas shiver.
When Cas slides his thumb across his plump bottom lip, he blinks down dazed at the man beneath him. He tucks his fingers under Dean’s chin and uses his grip to pull Dean down to press their lips together. He uses his thumb to pull Dean's jaw down slightly and when he feels the first touch of Cas’s tongue against his top lip he almost comes right then. His moan is swallowed by Cas as the next swipe of his tongue teases at Dean's mouth, coaxing his tongue into coming out and licking into Cas’s open mouth. Fuck, it’s so good. Cas kisses like he does everything else, carefully with precise movements made to turn Dean into a puddle of want. He drags his sharp teeth along Dean's bottom lip, tugging gently when he pulls back. Dean clamps a hand around the base of his dick, eyes snapping shut, before putting on his best apologetic smile when Cas flicks his gaze down and sees what he’s doing.
“ Aw baby, come here.” Cas is pulling him again, arranging him until his head is resting on Cas shoulder and Cas is running his hands up and down Deans back in a relaxing motion. “ You’re okay, sweet boy. You’ve been so good for me, I’m very happy with you.”
His voice and the soothing motion of his hands are helping Dean regain control of himself, it’s not killing his mood, but it’s lessening the need. He feels like he could probably look at Cas now without bursting into flames and before he had put his head down he wasn’t so sure that’s not what was going to happen. Cas moves his hands to Dean's thighs, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs, nothing too distracting; or so he thinks.
“Can I touch you, Dean?” Cas asks sweetly when Dean dares look at him again. He won’t admit the sound that comes out of his mouth at Cas’s question. Somewhere between a protest and a whine as he drops his gaze, eyes focusing somewhere on the couch cushion.
“No? Dean, you have to use your words. We’ve discussed this. I’m not going to be mad if you say no. But you have to tell me either way. Okay? Can you do that for me?”
There it is again. He doesn’t like it, but after everything he’s said and done tonight he’s not sure if he can say what he’s thinking without sounding like a pathetic idiot.
Cas removes his hands from Dean's legs, settling them on the couch beside his legs. That’s the last thing Dean wants and he knows the only way he’s getting them back is by saying something he really doesn’t want to be heard saying.
For what has to be the 1000th time tonight heat floods his face, when he mumbles “l’knyacallmbab” it comes out jumbled and too low for Cas to make out and he knows it. Knows he’s going to have to repeat himself. Mustering all his courage he lifts his head, reaches out and grabs Cas’s hands and places them on his hips and holds them there just in case Cas tries to remove them again.
“I like when you call me baby, or— or the other ones. You called me Dean.” Even hearing himself saying it, he can hear how ridiculous he sounds but he can’t stop now, “ I thought I was being good and you were saying these nice things and then you called me Dean after. Was it cause I almost came? You didn’t have to rub my back and stuff I would’ve been okay, I don’t —“ Dean’s rant is cut off by one of Cas’s big hands fisting in his hair and a slick tongue slipping into his mouth, a groan echoing between them, neither are sure where it came from. He doesn’t remove his hand when he leans back, just continues running his fingers lightly over Dean's scalp.
“Thank you baby, for trusting me enough to tell me what was bothering you. I can tell that was hard for you, but you did so good.” He places another quick kiss against Dean's lips before speaking again, the same sweet voice, making Dean's heart stutter. “ I’m sorry sweetheart. You have been such a good boy for me, the best boy. I’m not mad at you, for anything especially not for you feeling good. You seemed upset at the fact that you were so close, and I didn’t want you to be upset with yourself. That's why I held you and helped you calm down. There’s nothing wrong with that. “ Every word he says is exactly the thing Dean wants to hear, but it still doesn’t cover the problem Dean was having.
“ I love calling you baby, and all those other sweet names. You’re so good, you deserve to be called nice things. I didn’t want to just touch you without asking first and I needed to ask a serious and important question and I needed you to know I was in control of myself and that you still were in control of yourself and what happens to your body. Permission , remember baby? I’m sorry if my intentions were unclear. You are a very sweet boy, and I would very much like to touch you, if you're amenable.”
He’s perfect and Dean's body is going to explode, his heart is doing something weird in his chest. He can feel where the butterflies have turned into hummingbirds in his stomach and are beating wildly against his ribcage and somehow through all of this talking his boner has not waned in the slightest.
“Yeah, Cas. I am. I’m amenable. Please touch me.”
Cas doesn’t remove his hand from Dean's hair, he just cups the back of his head tugging him down for a dirty kiss, tongues sliding wetly against each other, teeth nipping at plump bottom lips. Cas taps his fingertips against Dean's lips when he pulls back between kisses, “lick”, he says , waiting and watching as Dean's tongue comes out and licks a fat strip up his palm. Repeating the actions when Cas tells him ‘ ‘more’ and again after that when Cas tugs his hair lightly and says “wetter.” Dean looks down at his cock and thinks to himself if it got any wetter he might start to worry he’s turning into a girl.
When his palm is sufficiently wet he brings his hand down and wraps it around Deans twitching length.Deans above average he’d like to think, definitely not small. But God,the way Cas’ huge fucking hand looks wrapped around him, it makes him look smaller, and it shouldn’t make him twitch and leak another drop of precome but Jesus Christ. He tilts his head back, looks to the ceiling. He can’t look at that.
Cas sets out to kill Dean. Straight up murder him. Rest In Peace Dean Winchester. He moves so slowly, just the right amount of pressure, squeezing a little tighter as he twists his hand around the head, before moving back down even slower. They’re both watching with rapt attention. A shiny pearl of liquid beads at Dean’s slit and Cas runs his thumb over it, bringing it to his lips, and glancing up at Dean.
“Cas, I’m close.” He ought to be ashamed of how quickly he’s on the edge, but he’s been on the edge since this whole thing started, so can he really be blamed?
“You’re doing so good baby boy,” Cas tells him, he runs his hand over the slick skin of Dean’s thigh before settling against his hip again. Digging his fingers in he pulls Dean down until his ass is firmly seated on Cas’s thick thighs. Skin against skin. Dean can feel where his balls rest against Cas’s as Cas uses his grip to rock Dean forward, then tugs him back lightly. “That’s it baby, just like that.”
“Casss,” it’s a whine now, no doubt about it.
“Keep going sweetheart. Does that feel good for you?”he asks as if he can’t tell Deans about to come hard enough to black out? His voice is thick with arousal, his muscles thick under Dean's fingers.
“Ye—“, he tries, voice coming out shaky, “yeah, feels—feels so good Cas.”
The next moment Cas rolls up into him as he grinds down and Dean scrambles to curl his fists back into the cushion behind Cas.
“God, Cas.” He does it again and Dean thinks he’s a goner, that’s all she wrote. He can feel his orgasm bubbling inside of him, trying to worm it’s way to the surface, he just needs something and he doesn’t know what.
When he feels Cas’ fingernail flick against the underside of his cock head before he’s sliding it across the slit, pressing lightly, Dean nearly cries.
“Cas cascascas,” he’s grinding filthily now, fucking into Cas fist, forehead pressed to Cas’s hairline. “Cas please?”
“What do you need? Tell me what you need honey.”
“I nee— need to come. I gotta, I gotta. Please?”
“Oh, sweet boy. You’re so good.”
“Please D— Cas, can I? Can I?” There are tears in his eyes and his whole body is shaking, his hips stuttering, he’s on razors edge.
Cas surveys him for a second then leans in close, presses his lips right under Dean’s ear before saying the single best thing he’s ever heard.
“Yeah, come for me baby.”
Oh fucking boy, does he ever. One more grind of his hips and he’s throwing his head back, crying out to the ceiling and painting Cas’s stomach with thick ropes of come. Cas strokes him through it, still gently guiding his movements.
It takes him a while to come down. He's struggling to regain his breath, having a hard time stopping the tremble of his arms where he’s bracing himself against Cas’s chest. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.
“That was so good,baby. You were so good.” Cas has both hands resting on Dean’s thighs, rubbing circles into the firm flesh, smearing come across smooth skin.
“Such a good boy.”he says, and Dean finally notices how forced it sounds, how affected Cas really is. His eyes are glazed over where they bore into Deans, his fingertips stutter along his skin where his hands are shaking slightly. His skin is damp with sweat and the hair against his forehead is stuck up in some places and matted down in others. Fuck, he’s beautiful.
“You’re beautiful.”
Cas looks surprised for a moment before a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, a real one. Not a smirk or some dirty thing meant to threaten and entice. Dean thinks it’s pretty perfect.
“Thank you, that’s very nice of you to say. You’re stunning, Dean. Absolutely breathtaking.”
When he says his name this time, Dean can hear the affection in it, and doesn't let it bother him. He actually kind of likes it when Cas says his name that way; still likes baby better though.
“You know, good boys get rewards. And really good boys even get to decide what that reward is.” He says it as if he’s talking to a child who ate all their vegetables. A dog who brought the perfect stick back for a game of fetch. Fuck, Dean wants his reward. He’s been so good. “What do you want, baby?”
“Fuck me,” the words are out of his mouth before he knows it, and he’s not even mad. Another word flashes through his mind, he quiets it. That is not happening.what he needs is for Cas to fuck him. He needs to have Cas all over him. Inside him.
“Please Cas, please fuck me?”
Next thing he knows, he’s on his knees, face pressed into a couch cushion, ass in the air. Jesus Christ, Cas is so strong. Had hauled him right up and arranged him exactly how he wanted him. Dean’s soft dick twitches. He feels Cas come up to stand by his head, watching as he bends down and picks up Dean's discarded shirt and uses it to wipe the come off his stomach, before disappearing out of sight behind Dean. He feels the cushions dip before he feels long fingers running up the backs of his thighs.
He arches his back a little harder, spreads his knees a little farther , closes his eyes pleased as can be when he hears the sharp inhale behind him. A soft kiss is pressed to the base of his spine, and another to his left asscheek. Another kiss and a soft nip graces the right side, sending shivers up Dean's spine. Large hands finally come up to grab onto Dean’s ass, grip firm where he kneads the flesh before his thumbs are digging in and spreading him open.
“Such a pretty little hole, bet you taste so good.”
He moans at the first touch of cool air against his hole, followed by an even louder one when the words catch up to him and he feels the wetness of Cas’s tongue dragging against the puckered skin.
“Oh fuck,” he pushes his ass out even farther, grabbing onto the couch cushions, “yeah, Cas. Please”
Cas takes him a part with his tongue, long firm strokes with the flat of his tongue, little kitten licks flicked out over his perenium and circling his hole. Dean’s a writhing mess beneath him. Hands fisted in green fabric, tears spilling from his eyes, broken“ yes’ and please’ and whispers of Cas’s name are hiccuped through stuttering breaths. His dick is rock hard again, bobbing painfully, tip leaking a steady stream to the couch below. He will not touch it again, if he does he’s absolutely going to come and that just isn’t going to work for him. He’s not coming until he gets Cas’s cock in him.
When Cas points his tongue and starts to dip it into Dean's hole, Dean wails. He pushes his hips back, trying to get it deeper, rocking forward and pushing back again, fucking himself on Cas’s tongue.
“Yesyesyesyes,” he babbles, voice only getting louder when he feels the first press of Cas’s finger against his rim. He rubs small circles around the rim, stopping to dip ever so lightly before going back to circling. “Fuck, yes, Cas. Do it, do it.” He almost forgets how this started , tacking on a small ‘please ‘ at the end.
He hears it when Cas honest to god spits on his hole, finger tap tap tapping against it before spitting again. This moment will live at the top of Dean’s spank bank until the day he dies. Cas’s middle finger is long, and thick when it enters him, stopping at the second knuckle before starting to pull out again. He moves slowly, pulling all the way out and rubbing against his hole before pressing in again. He’s so gentle and it’s burning Dean alive.
“Nother, gimme another Cas, please?”
“Of course, darling. So polite.”
Cas spits on his hole again, and it’s crazy how it makes Dean feel. The dirtiness of it crossed with the sweet way he’s rubbing his free hand up Dean’s spine and his soft words have Dean’s mind spinning. He presses back in with both his middle and index fingers, softly, slowly. The stretch is delicious and has Dean letting out a low groan. While he loves the gentleness Cas is using he needs more.
“God, Cas.” He moans, rocks his hips back, forcing Cas’ long fingers deeper.
“Yes, baby. That’s good.”Cas let’s him go on for a minute or two before he uses his free hand to still his hips. “Another?”
“Yuh,” Dean tries just as Cas crooks his fingers, sending a shock through his body. “Yeah, yes Cas.”
He feels Cas’ ring finger nudge against his rim before it’s slowly sliding along the rest, stretching him.” Oh shit, yes, yes.”
“Does that feel good baby?”
“F-feels, feels so good D—-C-Cas. Thank you” Control yourself, Dean.
“Are you ready for my cock now, sweetheart?” His voice is like dripping honey, sticky sweet and slow. Dean could listen to him forever.
“Please.”
“Good boy,” he murmurs, pressing his lips first to the dimples at the bottom of Dean’s spine before flicking his tongue out over Dean’s open hole when he removes his fingers, watching as he clenches around nothing. “You taste so fucking good baby. Look at you, you’re so open and desperate for me.”
Fuck. Fucking shit, Deans dick is so hard he could pound nails, and there’s a puddle forming under him, a string of precome connecting him to it. Why does everything this man says sound so fucking nasty and so good all at once?
“Get up here baby, I want you to ride me.” Dean scrambles so fast he almost thinks he’s given himself whiplash. He crawls back into Cas’ lap slowly, settling over his thick thighs with his hands resting on his chest.
Dean opens his eyes, not remembering closing them to look down at the beautiful man under him. When Dean first ran into him this morning his first thought besides the obvious anger was that holy shit he’s hot. But now, with his skin flushed with arousal, his hair damn with sweat; wild on top of his head, and his eyes; so blue. They look almost like they’re glowing in the dim of the room. He’s easily the most beautiful human Dean has ever seen.
Cas takes the time to look at Dean, really look at him when he settles onto his lap. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted, soft pants being huffed out. He’s got dried tear tracks staining his cheeks, beautiful freckles standing out amongst the flush. He’s absolutely breathtaking.
He moves his fingers over Dean’s parted thighs, up the inside where the skin is sensitive, and watches as goosebumps break out causing Dean to shiver.
“You want it baby?”
“Please, Cas.”
“Okay baby, take it.”
Dean lifts himself up, rearranging his legs so he can move better. Feet planted on the couch next to Cas' hips,bracing himself on Cas’ chest, fingers digging into the sweaty skin. Cas uses his huge hands to spread Dean open so Dean can position himself right above Cas’ cock head before he slowly starts to sink down.
Deans not sure where the deep growl comes from when he finally bottoms out but he’s pretty sure it ain’t him if the pathetic little whimper that flies out of his mouth right after is any indicator.
“Look at you baby, all spread out for me. Is this what you wanted, to be stretched open and filled up?” Dean only has the chance to nod before Cas continues, holding his hips down, restricting his movements. “ You’d let me do anything I wanted to you, wouldn’t you baby?” Another nod, a desperate whine. “ Of course you will honey, you’ll do exactly what I want, cause I know what’s best. Huh? You know that right?”
“Yes, Cas. I- I know.”
“Good boy.”
Dean starts off slow, small rocks of his hips, feeling the weight of the thick cock filling him up. Fuck, it feels so good. Before long Cas is using his iron grip on Dean’s waist to guide his hips, pulling him up and dropping him back down. The sounds of skin slapping echo throughout the mostly empty room. Although all Dean can hear is the erratic thundering of his heart and the soft groans spilling from Cas’ lips.
Cas uses his tight grip to pull Dean up on his cock, the head of his cock barely passed Dean’s stretched out rim.
“Stay,” he commands, as if Dean is a dog and is going to obey. He obeys.
Cas loosens his grip, slides his hands over sweaty skin, over peaked nipples before long fingers frame Dean’s face. He pulls Dean down, lips ghosting over Dean’s slack mouth. He kisses him, dirty; with too much tongue and too much teeth and it’s the best kiss Dean’s ever had. He rubs his fingers over Dean’s freckled cheeks, moving them into his hair before interlocking them at the base of Dean’s skull.
“Down.” And down Dean goes,”Up,”and he’s rising. It’s torturous, the way Cas controls his movements, only letting him have what’s given to him. Not allowing him to take what he needs. He fucking loves it.
The next time Cas tells him up, he tells him to stay again and when Dean follows his orders he gets called a good boy for his troubles.
“You ready baby?” He asks, as he fucks his hips up, driving his cock in deep. “ This what you want, no,no, is this what you need sweetheart?” Another quick thrust jolts Dean forward , hands scrambling to steady himself.
“Yes D-Cas.”
“Say it Dean. I know you want to, it’s been trying to slip out of those beautiful lips of yours. C’mon baby, say it.”
Dean presses his lips together, and closes his eyes as he shakes his head lightly.
“Okay, baby. I’ll just have to make you say it then.”
Cas regains his hold on Dean’s hips and proceeds to ruin him for anyone else ever. He drives his hips up hard, bottoming out on every trust, punching out gasps and moans from Dean. His biceps bulge with the way his arms flex as he holds Dean still above him.
“Like this, Dean?”
“Yesyesyes” Dean chants, tears spilling from his eyes, fuck it’s so good.
“Yes, what Dean?”
“Yes Da- yes C-Cas.”
“That’s it baby, almost there. Yes, what Dean?” He rocks his hips up, bottoming out and stilling. He uses his hands to press Dean down and starts to roll his hips up, cock nudging his prostate every time. “Yes, what baby?”
“Fuuuuck. Yes Daddy, just like that. Please please please.”
Dean swears he can see Cas’ pupil blow even wider, sees the black eclipse the startling blue.
Big hands run up his back, sliding through the sweat collecting on his heated skin. They steady him as Cas slides himself down on the couch, slouched with his ass almost off the edge.
“Lean back baby,” he waits until Dean complies, leans his torso back, hands coming to rest on Cas’s knees. “Right there baby. “
Blue eyes flick to green as a devilish smirk crosses Cas’ face.
“Such a good boy for Daddy.”
Dean has to clamp a hand around the base of his cock to keep from coming right then, almost dislodging himself in the process, hand almost slipping from the slick skin of Cas’ knee.
“Th-thank you Daddy.”
“Take what you want baby, make yourself come for me. You’ve been such a good boy, I want to see you come.”
Dean’s so happy he could cry, he’s been on the edge pretty much since the second his last orgasm ended. He’s been teased and has been hanging by a thread this whole time and now he’s finally going to get to come.
He sets his own pace, rising slowly and dropping back down hard, his dick is making an obscene sound everytime it smacks against the skin of his stomach, smearing precome though the light hairs trailing from his belly button. He looks down quickly, sees the wet trail and whines;embarrassed. He’s fucking leaking.
His legs are on fire, calves and thighs burning where he’s working himself on Cas’ cock. Muscles trembling every time he lifts himself up. Next time he drops , Cas’ hands hold him there, tugging him forward, pushing him back. He rests a hand low on Dean’s stomach, uses it to press Dean back so he’s tilted back as he grinds. The angle is excruciatingly perfect. Cas keeps his hand pressed there, uses his other one to tug Dean forward as he grinds his hips up, the gasp Dean let’s out is loud in the thick air above where his head is tilted back.
“Right there baby. That’s your sweet spot isn’t it?” He knows the answer, he knows his cock is pressed right up against Dean’s prostate. Knows that it’s agonizingly mind numbing. The smirk on his face when Dean finds the courage to look at him tells him he knows exactly how Dean feels.
“Y-yes Daddy.”
“Yeah? Tell me baby. Tell me how it feels.”
“Feels s-so good on my sw-sweet spot Daddy. You’re fucking me so good.”
“Yeah, baby. Making Daddy feel so good. You look so pretty, baby.” He’s rolling his hips harder now, fingers digging in deep as he guides Dean’s hips. “That’s it, darling. Keep hitting that spot, feels so good huh baby?”
Dean feels like a bobble head the way he’s nodding, not trusting his voice enough to answer. He can feel his orgasm building, white hot lightning gathering in his groin threatening to be let loose.
“Shitshitshit, gonna-gonna come Cas.”
“Now, Dean. Is that what you say?”
“Please Ca-Daddy, please can I come?” Dean’s begging, he knows he sounds pathetic. He knows he’s got tears on his cheeks, his hair must be fucked from Cas’ fingers, can feel how heated his skin is. He’s a mess and he couldn’t be happier about it. That is, until he hears Cas’ next words.
“No. You can hold it, baby. You’re doing so well. Just a little longer.”
Dean whines, long and loud, tears spilling out faster now.
“Can’t, can’t, can’t. Gotta- pleasepleaseplease.”
Dean wails when Cas brings up one slender finger and runs it through the precome leaking out of Dean. His whole body shuddering at the touch, it’s almost too much.
“You’re so wet for me baby. You look so pretty when you’re dripping for me.”
“Oh, god.” Dean groans at the words. That’s sounds like something he’d say to a girl he was fucking and having the words twisted back onto him is sending him flying closer to the edge.
“You can come after I do, okay baby? Can you be a good boy and do that?”
“Mhm,” Dean nods again. “Please fill me up Daddy.”
“Yeah baby?” Cas is panting now, sweat dripping down his temples and Dean can see how close he is. How he’s barely hanging on.” You want me to fill you with my come, make you mine?”
“Pleeeeeeease.”
Cas thrusts into him once, and twice before he’s spilling inside of Dean.
“Oh, god. Please.”
“Come for me Dean, cmon baby. Come for Daddy.”
Dean's hips stutter, his whole body convulsing before he stills, liquid fire spilling from him thick and white. It goes on for what seems like forever, leaving him breathless when he finally slumps forward onto Cas’ chest.
“That was so beautiful, sweetheart. You coming without your pretty cock even being touched was so amazing honey. You did so good, you’re so good.”
Dean feels the praise being pressed against his temple, along with soft kisses, as fingers run through his sweat damp hair. They push his bangs back and leave a sweet kiss on his forehead and Dean’s heart beats harder than it has all day.
When he finds the strength to lift his head and meet blue eyes he can feel how his breath stutters. Wonders if Cas can hear the butterflies beating against his insides trying desperately to escape. Cas is beautiful and not just in the ‘he’s an objectively attractive guy way’ or in the ‘ just had sex, sex hair, sweat slick skin, blown pupils, hot kind of way’ but he’s beautiful in those ways and a million others. In a way a human isn’t or shouldn’t be. He’s beautiful like a perfect sunset over the ocean, or the first snow when it covers the trees on the mountains. He’s otherworldly and it scares Dean with how much he can’t bare to take his eyes away.
A soft touch on his cheek brings him back, a big palm cradling his face like he’s something precious.
“Are you okay sweetheart?”
His voice is so rough, it’s deep and gravely and goosebumps break out on Dean’s skin at the sound.
“Yeah, Cas. I’m perfect,” he tells him when he can find his words.
“Yes. You are.” Dean didn’t know his face could get any redder but he can feel the heat blossoming on his cheeks again.
“Ahh shut up.” He tries to avert, earning a raised eyebrow from the other man. “Oh, um. Sorry. Uh, thank you Cas.”
“You’re very welcome, Dean.”
After they’re both cleaned up and mostly dressed again, he tugs his shirt on, inside out to avoid anyone seeing the stains from earlier. He starts tugging his shoes on, throwing a cautious glance to Cas; now back in his slacks and button up, loops his tie around his neck.
“Uh, I hate to bail. But I have to do something back at my house and my brother will kill me if I don’t show.”
Cas studies him for a second, probably trying to decide on if Dean’s telling the truth. A small smile spreads across his face, and he nods.
“I understand Dean. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.” He says it with a glint in his eye, “You’ve been a good boy today, wouldn’t want that to chance. Yeah?”
Dean can’t help but to laugh at that. This fucking guy.
“Yeah, no. Wouldn’t want that now. Um, so.. yeah,” he says pointing over his shoulder towards the door, not really wanting to leave. He knows Sam will bitch until the end of time if he misses this guy. Probably going to be another creeper anyway.
“Of course, let me walk you out.” Cas tells him, pressing his hand lightly to Dean’s lower back, walking him to the door. “ I, too, have plans.”
Dean’s stomach drops, turning his head when he reaches the door that Cas pulls open. As nonchalantly as he can manage he looks back at Cas, “Anything,” he clears his throat, not like the way the words came out all high pitched and anxious, “ anything good planned?”
Cas gives him a look like he knows exactly where Dean’s mind is, and tells him calmly, “ that remains to be seen, Dean. There’s a chance it could be very good.”
Dean nods his head, looking down at where his shoes scuff against the floor. “Yeah. Yeah that’s good, Cas. I- I hope it’s good for ya.”
“Thank you, Dean. I hope so too.”
Does he not know what he’s doing to Dean by saying these things? Why does Dean care anyway? He just met the guy, like yeah, they had the best sex Dean has ever had. Most likely will ever have. He’s pretty sure he is ruined for anyone else. There’s no way anyone would be able to live up to that. It’s not like Dean has any claim to him or anything, Cas might not have even liked it like Dean did. Fuck, why’s he so caught up on this. They’ll probably never see eachother again, and if they do it’ll probably be awkward, meet in a coffee shop or something. A quick hello and a stilted laugh, a half ass conversation. Shit it’s going to be so weird seeing Cas again, cause Dean knows 100% that he’s definitely not going to stop thinking of Cas anytime soon, if ever. Jesus, he’s goi—
“Dean?” Cas’ voice breaks him out of his own thoughts. Shit how long has he been standing here like an idiot?
“Oh, yeah. Um sorry. I’m gonna- I’m gonna go now. See ya later Cas.”
He hurries out the door, and practically runs down the stairs, not waiting to hear Cas’ farewell.
He makes it back to his house a lot quicker than he would’ve thought. Head down and feet moving over pavement quickly. He makes it all the way to his kitchen where he sees his discarded mug on the counter before he remembers his whole reason for leaving was to get coffee. Which he did not get. God fucking dammit.
It’s a little past noon, so he spends his time before the guy gets here picking up, making sure the house looks presentable. He grabs a beer, thinking he’s waited long enough, especially after running on no coffee and the morning he’s had. He thinks he’s deserved it. He wills away images of Cas at the thought of this morning. He can’t start this shit right now, he’ll have to jerk off and he doesn’t wanna be caught with his dick out, metaphorically speaking. Well,kind of literally speaking too.
By the time he’s done cleaning, he’s on his second beer and has scarfed down half a bag of Doritos with salsa, it’s verging on 1. He grabs the remote of the side table and plops his ass down, sinking into the well loved couch cushions. He kicks his legs up, settles back and pulls up Tombstone on prime video. The movie’s barely started when a knock sounds on the door.
“Of fucking course,” Dean grumbles to himself. He sets his beer down on the island as he passes it, checking his teeth in the small mirror by the door. Don’t wanna scare the guy away with chips and shit stuck in his teeth.
Tacking a grin on his face he swings the door open, only to have it slide off as he sees who’s standing in front of him.
“ Cas? What’re - whatcha doing here?” He asks, suspicious. He tries to go through what little conversation they had, thinking if he let his address slip at some point. When he comes back with nothing his suspicion grows. “How’d you know where I live?”
Cas smiles, bright as the sun. He pulls a small slip of paper out of his pocket, a grocery list on one side and on the other a few sentences scrawled messily. An address, a phone number, a name; Sam W.
“I’m here to look at the apartment?” He phrases it like a question, though his smile only grows. “ Was hoping it would have a good outcome, but now I see it could possibly be a great outcome.”
Dean buries his face in his hand, trying to hide both his smile and his embarrassment. He had thought Cas was going on some sort of date and had been upset. Jealous,even. He feels stupid. He’s also ecstatic.
“Well Cas, let me show you around.”
Sam comes home that afternoon, sweat dripping from his hair where it’s being held back from his headband. He’s throwing his gym bag down by the door and toeing off his sneakers as he yells through the house. “Dean? How’d it go?” He walks towards the living room, stopping to check the kitchen, “Dean?” He makes it to the living room, and finds his brother. He’s laid back on the couch, half propped up on the back where he’s running his fingers through a head of dark hair. The man is laying across his lap, staring up at his brother, fingers tracing the freckles on his face. Matching smiles stretched across both mens features.
“Dean?”
Wide green eyes blink up at him, followed by intense blue ones.
“Hiya Sammy. This is our new roommate, Cas.”