Dean was two seconds away from confiscating his roommate’s laptop.
He'd been sitting in the back of his 9:00PM SYG 2000 class, doodling on the inside of his Intro to Sociology textbook when his phone started buzzing. He swiped the lock screen open with the pad of his thumb to an alert.
(1 new message from: GAStiel)
Dean snorted and typed out a quick reply, which ended up sparking an interesting conversation.
<<I’m in class.
>>That’s why I’m B O R E D .
<<Well figure out a way to entertain yourself.
>>Give me a few minutes
Several minutes later, Dean found himself growing impatient. .
>>I told you to give me a few minutes
<< IT HAS BEEN A FEW MINUTES
Castiel didn’t reply. He didn’t reply until ten minutes later, when Dean’s phone started buzzing again. He checked the screen and raised an eyebrow at the notification alert.
(Received: 1 attachment from: GAStiel)
He clicked it and found a video from Cas being uploaded onto his inbox.
Dean dug into his bag for a pair of earbuds as he glanced around the classroom. His professor wouldn’t give him shit for not paying attention, she knew he just came to the class to get his attendance credit for the course. Otherwise, he really didn’t need to be here. She said he had an unusually mature understanding of society and social inequalities. Moving around from shit motel to shit motel while practically raising his little brother might’ve given him just a tiny peek at how the standards of human behavior change in society. That and the fact that he happened to be in a homosexual relationship at that very moment. So yeah, maybe he knew a bit what was expected.
Hell, if being gay had some kind of social image requirement, he and Cas would have had their homo cards revoked on sight.
Well, at least in public. In public they were all about ragged bootcut denim, snarky shirts, and old flannels- the standard for your average pair of college dudes. But it was pretty much the opposite of the image at least half the people in his Soc class thought gay dudes were supposed to look like.
In private things were a little… different.
Not even like ‘gay dude’ different or whatever, just personal-preference kind of different.
Personal preference meaning that in the video Cas just sent him, he was wearing nothing but a pair of white knee-high tube socks that had two blue baseball stripes, stripes that not only matched the baby blue briefs that were slowly being rolled down to his the bottom of his thighs, but also matched the thick silky ribbon tied around his neck in a bow.
Personal preference also meant Dean could feel himself getting hard in the panties Cas had picked out for him this afternoon, before he’d headed off to class. Panties that not-so-coincidentally matched Cas's own outfit. The bastard probably picked satin with this in mind too--damn inflexible fabric was gonna choke his dick the longer he watched this video, he knew it.
In the video, Cas was stretched out on the huge white leather loveseat in their living room. He arched his back slowly, very much like a lazy cat, before lifting his legs up in something of a mock pin-up girl pose.
Dean nearly groaned as he noted how obvious it was, even in the low-quality of this homemade video, that Cas was smooth. Like not-a-hair-in-sight smooth. From his lean chest, to his balls, to the even expanse of skin that landscaped his legs--and as he spread them, limited by the briefs that were still locked around his thighs--Dean could see that his perfect little pucker was just as smooth as the rest of him.
He ran his hands along the backs of his thighs, lightly. One of them slid towards his balls, while the other migrated towards his chest in a slow caress before smoothing over his own nipples, teasingly.
Cas’s hand disappeared off screen for a second and came back with a tube of lube, the same one they usually kept within easy reach on his nightstand. There was a zsnk sound as the tube popped open, and a generous amount of lube was deposited into his hand. A small gasp sounded in his earbuds as one digit spread some of the cold gel over the puckered hole. He circled it a few times before pushing in and crooning out a ‘mmmmhm’.
It didn’t take long for him to get another one in there, and as he worked himself open, Cas would occasionally do these long strokes along his shaft that were driving Dean nuts.
By some unspoken signal, Cas stopped. He dropped his legs and Dean could see him stretching off screen to reach something. He heard the tap-tap-tap that meant Cas had been typing out a reply to him on his iPhone. (And boy if that didn't get him even harder, imagining this is what Cas was doing while he was texting Dean.)
When he came back in view, though, he had a toy he’d never seen before. The thing looked like was made of a soft black silicone with four bead-like waves cascading down the shaft that start small and gradually widen. That wasn’t the most perplexing part, though.
The thing Dean found most astounding was that, at the base of the toy, there was a fluffy white ball.
Dean didn’t really understand its purpose until after Cas had already worked most of the toy in--and then he saw it. It was a bunny tail. Cas was fucking himself onto a goddamn bunny tail.
If this wasn’t one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, Dean would’ve found it ridiculous. But right now Dean was just fucking glad his class was three hours long because he still had about 5 minutes of video left and he was harder than he’d ever been in his entire life.
A loud shaky exhale came through his headphones, accompanied by the sound of his name, when it was pushed all the way in. He dropped his hand away and seemed to just revel in the sensation. When he did start moving again, he evaded the toy in favor of stroking himself. It made up quite the sight--Cas in knee-highs, legs in the air, didn’t even bother taking off the baby blue briefs, with a fucking bunny tail, licking his own thumb before swiping it across the head of his cock.
Cas did get back to the toy a second later, he would squeeze the puffy ball and thrust it in and out, shallowly. (Sometimes in between thrusts he’d stroke the tail as if he were petting it, which Dean found inappropriately adorable.) His breathing was getting heavier, like soft little kitten pants but louder, and the word ‘Dean’ was being said with more frequency. He paused, pulling the toy out to the first bulge and teasing it against his rim until he made himself squirm.
Every now and then he’d groan and spasm in a way that there was no mistaking meant he was rubbing along his own prostate. The urgent use of his name also tipped him off and Dean’s dick would always twitch in sympathy, already leaking in his own panties.
By now Cas was a mess. The sounds coming from the video were all shaky breaths and loud panting, interspersed with deep groans and a slick fapping noise. He kneed Dean’s name and there was a deep flush across his chest. He increased his rhythm, moaning as he fucked himself both with the toy and sped up his strokes.
Dean cursed under his breath. He was in the back of his sociology class with a massive erection straining against his jeans and every whimper was threatening to push him over the edge, despite the fact he’d done nothing to ease the pressure but occasionally shift in his seat.
Cas’s whimpers picked up. He stilled the toy, its base pressed up against his hole, making him look like some kind of innocent little twitchy bunny (when he obviously wasn’t, he was evil, especially for sending him this video while he was in the middle of class.) He absentmindedly caressed the bunny tail, arching his back as he stroked himself until he came in a spasm, all over his chest with a broken groan and soft little ‘Uuhh’ ‘Unhh’ ‘Dean’ noises.
Dean couldn’t help it. He tried, he really did. He ground his teeth and bit his tongue until he tasted a hint of copper, but the bowlegged boy couldn’t stop himself from coming in his pants at the sight of Cas coming undone, clutching at his own torso while he gasped and moaned out a barely audible ‘Dean’.
Cas ended the video by running a hand through the mess on his chest and sliding his fingers up his shaft one last time before it cut off and Dean was left to face the last half hour of class with a disaster in his pants. He typed out a quick reply to his horrible boyfriend before closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.
<<I hate you.
Dean finally made it home at 11:45. He dropped his school shit in the hallway, glaring at the leather chair where Cas had his little show as he passed the living room, till he reached the bedroom. There he found Cas lounging lazily in his knee highs on their bed.
He rolled his eyes at the sight, but there was a smile on his face. He started to strip the bootcut jeans off his bow legs when he heard a ‘tsk’. It seemed Cas had noticed the obvious stain on his underwear.
“You ruined your panties,”
Dean blushed. “Shut up, you know this is your fault.” He shimmied off the offending underwear quickly. “Scoot over.”
Cas made a noncommittal grumbling noise before rolling over on his stomach, surreptitiously presenting his perfectly bouncy tush tauntingly.
Dean smiled. He gave it a little slap before crashing on the bed. “Not now, tiger. You already tired me out.” He yawned and pressed a small kiss on Castiel’s forehead. “G’night, buddy.”
Cas ‘mmmhm’ed and snuggled himself into the sheets. There was a muffled, “They have vibrating tails too,” but by the time the sentence registered with Dean’s brain, making his eyes snap open comically, Cas had already fallen asleep.