Two in the morning is not a good time for introspective musings on the nature of his relationship with Castiel. However, two in the morning is all Dean's got so he's going to have to man up and deal.
Sam's asleep on the other bed, thrown out on his back like he got tired in the middle of making a snow angel. Occasionally he mutters something about wings into the bend of his own arm and Dean's so very sure he doesn't want to know.
So, yeah, he thinks maybe him and Castiel have a thing now.
They've both admitted, accidentally in Dean's case, that they're maybe a little bit in love with each other and that there's a good chance there's going to be touching of a sexual nature at some point.
So, yeah, that's almost definitely a thing.
Forgetting for a minute that Castiel is a guy, technically, and that he's an angel. Forgetting also the fact that he's, as far as Dean knows, still a virgin
Forgetting all of that very important stuff.
Castiel has spent the last two or three months reading about the sex life they've been having on the internet. Reading about the graphic, adventurous and flexible sex life they've been having on the internet.
Dean stares at the ceiling for a silent minute thinking about that.
Then he slides out of bed, pulls the laptop out of Sam's bag and takes it into the bathroom.
He sits back against a stack of towels and boots it up, wincing quietly at the 'beep' it makes, which sounds a hell of a lot louder in the bathroom than in the room. He's fairly sure this could be described as incriminating.
He checks he locked the door, because there's absolutely no way he wants Sam walking in on this, thank you very much.
Not that he's doing anything creepy, he's just checking, he's just checking to see what he's up against. To see exactly what impression Castiel might have gotten about how this is supposed to go between them, if they were to actually - have sex, in real life.
Because Dean's fairly sure the internet has embellished some of his skills, a little.
Or a lot.
He'll be the first one to admit that he's pretty good in bed. He'd even go so far as to say he's pretty great. He loves sex, sex is awesome. He's had a lot of practice, he's willing to have a go at almost anything at least once and he pays attention. He makes sure, to the best of his abilities, that it's as awesome as it can be for everyone involved.
He has skills - ok, not so much when there's another dick involved but most of the same skills apply right? Like going from an automatic to a stick, it's going to take a little getting used to but he can still drive. The basic principle is still the same.
He flicks his way through the history, finds a bunch of stories Cas has been reading his way through, clicks the top of the list.
The first one's set in an alternate universe where he's some sort of Indiana Jones type adventurer and Cas is a librarian looking for some tomb or something. He huffs amusement, then skips ahead to the sex scene.
It happens in a tent near the end. They get soaked in a tropical rainstorm and have to strip off and Dean is 'overcome with lust.'
He snorts and it echoes around the bathroom.
Librarian-Cas apparently likes it rough from behind.
Dean clicks the next link -
Holy crap, who the hell thought tiny pink text on a bright blue background was a good idea. Dean blinks at the screen - no, screw it, he has too much respect for his eyes. He shuts it without trying to work out what's going on there.
Next - whoah, lots of warnings for angst. Dean skips about seven pages of plot so he's not exactly sure why everyone's so damn angsty. But judging by the way the porn starts he's angry about something and Castiel seems to think he needs to be punished.
The angel's already on his knees and Dean's fairly sure where this is going.
Fanfic-him really does have a thing about pulling Castiel's hair, he's always pulling his head up or back to look at him.
At the moment he's pulling it forward, dragging his mouth open with a thumb and -
It gets rough and graphic and dirty and Dean thinks, for a second, that maybe he should be uncomfortable reading about Castiel like this, but it occurs to him that this is exactly what the angel's been doing for months.
He's been reading things exactly like this.
He scrolls for the next story, and - yeah, that one's pretty much no plot whatsoever. They get covered in some Succubus venom or something - that sounds totally made up - and just go for it right there on the sacrificial altar with the sacrificial oil.
Three times, in about seven different positions.
Most of which Dean's knees would hate him forever for, and the last of which he's fairly sure would break his own neck.
The next story has them trapped in a snowstorm and sharing body heat accidentally turns into sex. Almost literally, one minute they're trying to survive the artic temperatures and the next he's taking advantage of a slightly bewildered Castiel like it's going out of fashion.
Fanfic him is kind of douche.
There are five stories in a row that are just pure porn, filthy, descriptive, sometimes rough, just for the sake of it, stick-your-tongue-everywhere-it's-not-supposed-to-go porn. Dean reads about himself doing things he didn't even know existed for God's sake.
And how the fuck does everyone always end up with no gag reflex? Dean's lost track of the number of times he ends up with Castiel's dick down his throat. What do they think that's just inherited or something? Do they think really hot sex makes you magically better at it?
Even worse, maybe, is the stamina - damn it, he's being made to feel woefully inadequate by himself, which is just wrong. Sure, with Castiel he's not entirely sure what's impossible and what's not but, holy crap, Dean's only human. He's only human and clearly these people aren't. He's not seventeen any more and he couldn't do half of this stuff even when he was.
He's almost afraid to keep going.
He does anyway.
The next one's a long apocalyptic alternate universe. Castiel is fierce and brutal and glorious, unfathomable in a way Dean sometimes forgets he is. There's a fight scene halfway through, and Castiel has a moment where he's pure badass and awesome. Dean gets distracted while looking for the sex and has to go back to the beginning and read the whole damn thing.
By the time he gets back to the end his legs have gone to sleep.
Castiel fucks him over the hood of the Impala.
He really fucks him.
Dean's pretty sure you can't get fucked like that in real life without it hurting, especially not when the one doing it isn't human.
Though the him in the story loves it, in fact he begs in graphic detail and takes the pounding like a fucking pro'.
Jesus fucking Christ
Dean snaps the laptop shut.
The last time he'd been this torn between shaky terror and the absolutely desperate need to jerk off he'd been fourteen.
Being fourteen hadn't exactly been a shining period of skill and sexual restraint for him.
He's so screwed.
So completely and totally freakin' screwed.
He hides in the bathroom for a long time.
Sam's bought coffee from somewhere when Dean gets back with breakfast. He's slumped listlessly over the table staring into space and yawning occasionally.
When Dean throws himself down he shunts the second cup over.
Dean stares at him for a long minute.
"Do I even want to know what you and Lucifer were doing last night?" he asks curiously.
Sam sighs out a breath and glares at him.
"Will you stop making it sound like that, it's not like that."
Dean grunts and that's enough of a noise that Sam knows he doesn't believe him.
"He offered to show me his wings," Sam says quietly.
Dean pauses with his coffee half way to his mouth.
"What did you say?"
"I told him I'm still not convinced he doesn't want to destroy us all," Sam says sadly.
Dean starts laughing, he starts laughing and he can't stop.
"What?" Sam's wearing the pissed face now and that somehow just makes it even better.
Dean slaps the table.
"Dude, you're like a teenage girl withholding her virginity until he tells you he loves you. No wonder he's still harassing you."
"Fuck off," Sam says flatly and finishes his coffee in quiet fume-y silence.
Dean grins until his face hurts.
Eventually Sam clears his throat and glares at him.
"So, what were you doing on the laptop last night?"
Dean tries to tense up and not react at the same time but he suspects Sam knows him far too well.
"How did you know I was on it?"
Sam tips his head to the side, like he's trying to read whatever's showing on Dean's face.
"The battery was dead, I had to put it on charge. Cas always plugs it in when he's finished with it."
"Research," Dean says flatly. "I was doing research."
When Dean gets back from cleaning out the car Castiel's in the room. He's sat on the edge of the bed, practicing his ability to be loose and relaxed when no one is expecting him to be.
Dean has a brief moment of honest uncertainty because he'd spent most of the early hours of this morning reading porn about them, a lot of porn. Graphic and impossible porn that he's never going to live up to in any universe ever. What the hell was he thinking, he would have been better off not knowing.
He tells himself to stop being stupid.
This is real life and Castiel is more than smart enough to know the real world works differently. Just like Castiel in the flesh isn't Castiel in the fanfic. Dean knows that. He's always known that. He wants this Castiel, every strange, serious, otherworldly and occasionally irritating inch of him.
"Hey, Cas," he manages.
Castiel looks up.
"Hello, Dean," his voice is somewhere between serious and warm. It's a quirk that's pure Castiel. There are so many tiny differences, things Chuck didn't write about, or didn't feel were worth writing about. Dean's keeping every single damn one of them.
Castiel has candy again, some sort of round colourful candy too big to be M&Ms. Sam's starting to turn spoiling supernatural beings into a habit. He's like the heavenly crack dealer. If at any point Anna turns up on their doorstep twitching and demanding candy Dean is officially putting a stop to it.
"Where'd you go yesterday," he asks. Because, yeah, Sam had broken their little moment by reappearing with clean clothes and donuts yesterday. Castiel stayed around for just long enough that Dean managed not to worry that the disappearing was his fault.
He gets the impression Castiel is being careful with him, in his own angel sort of way. Like he understands that their whole conversation the other day changed them in some important way. Castiel tends to worry about Dean more than himself, so if he'd stayed away on purpose, Dean thinks maybe it was because he thought Dean needed some time to himself.
"I felt I'd been remiss in collecting information regarding Lucifer's plans and I questioned several demons I found."
"You got answers out of them?" Dean asks curiously.
"I persuaded them to give them to me," Castiel says seriously.
Dean decides that, yeah, Castiel, prepared to be a badass angel at a moment's notice is actually kind of hot, and that's new enough for Dean to have a moment of 'hey, weird.' Before he does something that he thinks he should have done a while ago.
He folds his fingers round the loose edge of Castiel's collar and uses it to guide himself down.
It feels a little bit like falling.
Castiel's mouth is warm, it tilts up into his own, an edge of roughness and breath.
Dean doesn't open his mouth, doesn't push for more, but there's a strange intimacy to it.
Castiel watches him when he pulls away and it's not like Dean hasn't spent most of his life kissing people when he gets the right signals. But it's a lot harder when there are no signals.
"That was ok, right?" he blurts out, then feels like an idiot because he's already had the 'not reliving awkward teenage years' conversation with himself.
Castiel nods, slow and solemn.
"You may do that whenever you want to," he adds, tone low, like it's not just a throwaway cliche line, like he's giving Dean absolute permission.
Dean raises an eyebrow, because he's still hoping for a little more here. A little hint that they're reading the same book, even if maybe they're not quite on the same page.
"What about you, what about when you want to?"
Castiel frowns and then, as if he's suddenly realised exactly what Dean wants, he lifts a hand, warm fingers trailing Dean's wrist. He folds them there and pulls, just a little.
Dean huffs relief and leans in again.
It's not quite as innocent as the first kiss.
Somehow his hand ends up in Castiel's hair. Which is strange and awkward for just a second, until he realises that this is them, this is all them and no one else.
He smiles, which kind of stops the whole kissing thing.
Castiel doesn’t seem to mind.
Dean eases away.
"Did you like that?" he asks curiously.
"Yes," Castiel says simply, and his mouth is open and damp and very faintly red.
He looks just a little bit stunned.
Dean thinks maybe this isn't going to be terrifying after all.