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If You Let Your Friend Drag You to a Blues Dance Class...

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Dean’s heart thumps in his chest in excited anticipation as he ascends the staircase, giant two-step leaps at a time, to the main entrance of the dance studio. Shoe bag in tow, the expansive, rustic doors open to the boisterous crowd of fellow local and non-local dancers. Some faces he recognizes from past events, some he sees all the time, and some he’s never seen before. The musty smell of the ancient building, the low hum of jazzy big band music in the background, and the chatter of voices envelope Dean’s soul in warming comfort as he reminisces...

Gosh, it’s been what, four or five months since Dean last attended a dance event or workshop?! Yes, he’s diligently attended weekly lessons and practices that barely manage to relieve his itchy dance bug. Those practices definitely ain’t the same as a weekend-long event. It’s usually non-local professionals who instruct the workshop weekends. A dancer’s skill greatly improves from getting exposure to the perspectives of multiple professional instructors that teach intricate concepts of dancing, which could include anything from enhancing technique to perfecting musicality. That, plus the sheer quantity dancers at events is so much greater. The more people you dance with, the more practice you get, the more exposure you get to different dancer’s styles, and the more moves you add to your repertoire by watching other people. There are many joys to dancing, and a full-day event only multiplies them. Dean’s in store for an awesome weekend!

Charlie, the fiery red-head, immediately spots him after he enters the room. She is one of those non-locals who drives several hours to attend annual workshops and events. It’s good to know she’s here. Dean tenses as thin arms wrap around his torso and embrace him in a boa-constrictor hug. She must’ve rushed over here as soon as she saw him.

“Can’t breathe, Charlie,” he gasps.

“Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s just, I haven’t seen you in forever! Whatcha been up to, bitch?”

“Oh, ya know, just havin’ ta put in more hours at the shop cuz of all the car break downs in the snowy weather. I haven’t been able to go out dancing as much as I’d like. My manager – you know, Bobby –  forced me to take the weekend off and wouldn’t take no for an answer after hearin’ about the event. The shop’s probably bogged down with customers right now… Anyway, how’ve you been? Didn’t you go to a con recently or somethin’?”

“Yeah! Bro, I wish you had the time to come with! I finally met up with my online role-play buddies, we got to hang out a bar, and nerd out over all things LOTR.”

“Sounds like you had a good time.”

“Mhmmm. Hey, we need to register. C’mon!”

Charlie’s slender fingers lock around Dean’s calloused hands and pull him forward like a dog on a leash. He holds on for dear life as they weave through the small clusters of conversation until they reach the line at the registration table. The line moves sluggishly, however the length of time it takes to reach the front goes unnoticed as the two friends catch up and chat about meaningless subjects. Charlie and Dean split up as the next person in line is called up to register. In no time, it’s Dean’s turn. 

“Dean! It’s so great to see you, buddy!” That’s Garth. His radiant smile expands from ear to ear and almost seems out of proportion with his gangly-framed body. He’s always in the most cheerful of moods. Dean, not so much. He’s been extremely tense lately and hasn’t taken the time to relax. Good thing he’s here now. Dancing always seems to take his mind off things.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve been busy at work,” Dean grumbles in response.

“Relax, you’re here now! You pre-registered, right?” Dean nods. “Hhmmm, Dean Winchester… Dean Winchester… There you are!” He checks Dean’s name off the list. “Hand please. And let someone know if this begins to fade cuz this is how we’re keeping track of who’s paid.” Dean grimaces upon receiving a dark blue stamp of a smiling, dorky honey bee. That’s gonna be embarrassing to explain to the guys on Monday when he returns to work. It had better rub off by then.

“Remember to save me a dance on the floor, Dean,” says Garth with a smile and a wink.

“Sure thing,” is all Dean can reply before being swept away by Charlie to the first dance class.

There’s just barely enough time for Dean to claim a space for his belongings, change shoes, and do just a bit of preliminary stretching before the instructors appear.

“Hey everyone! Up on your feet and form a circle on the floor!” a deep, raspy voice shouts. This dude sounds like he must’ve gargled a handful of nails before breakfast. 

Dean hauls himself up off the floor and stands right next to Charlie in the circle while the instructors stand in the middle. He’s never met either instructor before, and holy cow! The guy’s eyes are the most gorgeous shade of blue he’s ever seen! And that sharply cut jaw, that shadowy stubble of a beard, that lean muscular body, that stretch of jeans around his thighs…. A cold shiver snakes up Dean’s back. Keep it in your pants, Winchester, he says to himself like a mantra. If he’s not careful, everyone’s gonna notice a boner bulging in his pants. Time to focus on dancing.

“Hello, everyone!” calls out a gravelly voice. “My name is Castiel. But you may call me Cas for short.”

“And I’m Meg,” says the short woman next to Cas. She has wavy, chocolate brown hair and a seductive, feline smile, like a tigress about to pounce.

There’s a loud clap! and the sound of friction as Cas rubs his hands together. “Alright. Let’s warm up.”

“I’ll get the music, darling,” Meg drawls.

A sweet, melodic, bluesy tune bleeds from the speakers.

Meg joins the circle again and the two instructors stand side by side. “Just follow along. We’ll do a bit of stretching and body isolations,” explains Cas over the hum of music. “Toward the end, we’ll practice a few basic moves.”

Meg takes the lead. “Start with the head. Roooollll it counter clockwise. Good. Now roll clockwise. Good. And now the shoulders. Lift one shoulder. Drop it down. Lift the other shoulder. And switch…” They proceed on with body isolations and stretching. Dean can feel bits of tension melt away with each move, it feels so good!

To get into the groove of things, there’s a pulsing drill. Pulse is what helps keep a dancing couple in tune with each other, so it’s important to maintain a pulse throughout every movement. It’s an extra downward motion into the floor, like you’re sinking into the ground with each step. They practice a simple step touch, pulsing on both the step out and the touch in. They also practice keeping a pulse during a one-count drag step. It’s kind of like taking mini-leaps from side-to-side, stepping onto one foot and quickly dragging the other foot to meet the first one. Dean’s really starting to feel the music, getting into that dancing head space, enjoying the moment.

The most awkward movement of them all is the hip isolations. Dean, though, knows how to move his hips, a rarity for male dancers. The class rotates their hips at glacial speed in a wide circle, elongating the movement.

Of course they proceed to do the fishtail, a hip-heavy movement. The class is forced to elongate the move into a four- and eight-count pattern. Dean’s toes are angled to the left with his weight also over the left side of his body. He takes four or eight counts (whichever is called out) to swivel his hips in a half figure eight while shifting his weight to the right, taking the time to really stretch his hip out as far as it will go.  On the last count, he decides to emphasize the beat by jerking his hip out to the right as he drags his left inward to tap next to his right. And that’s how you incorporate musicality, ladies and gentlemen! His mind completely focuses on the pattern, drowning out all thoughts of work and stresses in his personal life. Each additional moment is freeing; he feels like a majestic bird expanding its wings to take flight over an open sky.

Dean is broken out of his trance by the words of an instructor. “Alright. That’s the end of class everyone. Bye. Have a nice day,” Meg says with a smirk. A look of confusion spreads across the faces of everyone in the circle. “I’m kidding! You guys should see your own faces! Ha! Okay, I’ll stop torturing you guys. Clarence, tell them what we’re doing next.”

Dean breathes a sigh of relief. He, too, was a little worried there for a second. Time couldn’t have gone by that quickly, and they haven’t even gotten to the main part of the class yet! And what’s up with that nickname, Clarence? He doesn’t have long to ponder before Cas is speaking again.

“Because of the nature of this class, we know some of you guys may be uncomfortable rotating partners and would prefer to practice these moves with the same person. So we’ll have non-rotating couples on this side of the circle,” he gestures to his left, “and rotating couples and singles on this side. Please re-arrange now. Let’s see if you can do it in thirty seconds,” another smirk. Oh, God! That smirk does things to Dean’s lower body! He’s frozen and distracted when Charlie yanks his hand to haul him over to the rotating side of the room. Meanwhile, the instructors look amused by the chaos of dancers running around the room.

“Fifteen seconds left!” they shout at the same time. At this point, Dean has broken out of his dazed head space and searches for an empty spot with Charlie.

“Ten! Nine!” Oh, they’re actually counting down now.

“Eight! Seven! Six! – “

“Look! There!” Dean points to an empty space in the circle.

“Five! Four! – “

Charlie and Dean make it to the spot, with mere seconds to spare.

“Three! Two! One!”

Just a few stragglers finish making their way to a place in the circle, and everyone’s in alignment as the final second is counted.

“Wow! You guys actually managed to do it! Congratulations!” Meg sneers. Those words are kinda belittling and make Dean feel uncomfortable (and he can feel that uncomfortable, looming tension amidst the rest of the class as well). He doesn’t like this “Meg” person’s attitude at all. But Cas, he’s okay.

“Enough, Meg. Let’s get down to business. Welcome to inappropriate blues moves! I hope you’re all here for the right class!”

What!?! Dean sends a daggering glare to Charlie, who just gives him an innocent little grin in return. Okay, it’s Dean’s fault that he didn’t check over the schedule to know which classes were being offered. He decided to put his faith in Charlie. And look where that landed him! She’ll pay for this, oh she’ll pay for this! Well, too late to back out now…

Chapter Text

“Alright!” There’s that sinful, sandpaper-y voice again. “Some general rules for transferring what you learn here in class to the social dance floor: As you might expect, we’re gonna teach some moves that are typically deemed inappropriate for the social dance floor. UNLESS you know your partner well and they consent. Utilize your own discretion as to when it’s appropriate to do these inappropriate moves. Since you guys are here taking this class, we’ll all assume that everyone has consented to doing these moves while we proceed with the lesson.

“However, if a partner on the social dance floor decides to do any of these moves without your consent, or it makes you uncomfortable, please let them know! Your body language should be a pretty clear indicator, but sometimes your partner might not receive the message. Thus verbal communication may be necessary. All you have to do is walk up to your partner,” Cas takes hold of Meg’s hand and looks her directly in the eyes. Blue eyes full of concern, he says, “And say, ‘hey, that –“

Meg, like it was rehearsed, looks into the crowd with an utterly serious look and says, “– insert move here –,“ and then she whips her head back to stare into her partner’s eyes, like there was never a pause. Dean has to hold back a bout of laughter. A couple of quiet snorts can be heard amongst the circle as the dancers attempt to suppress their giggles.

Ignoring the snorts and giggles, Cas continues on in his normal scratchy voice, “ ‘ – made me uncomfortable. Please don’t do it again.’ If your partner says this to you, please don’t do the move with them again. If you do, you’ll become that creepy weirdo that no one desires for a dance partner. Don’t be a creepy weirdo. If you’re the victim and the problem doesn’t go away after verbal communication, please don’t hesitate to inform one of the volunteers on staff. Any form of sexual harassment on the dance floor WILL NOT be tolerated. We wish for this vibrant dance community to be a safe environment for all dancers. Please help us keep it that way!

“Okay, serious, important spiel over. Time to have some real fun! Meg, take it away!”

“Before we start, can I have a show of hands of who doesn’t have a partner.” Everyone awkwardly scans the room to see who has their hands raised. “Interesting… looks like this class is lead-heavy. Lucky dudes, Cas and I will be joining the rotation so that you guys can get more practice. We’ll be judging you hard-core…. Kidding again.

“Ready for the first move?” Silence. “C’mon guys, wake up! I know it’s early, but you’ve got to be more excited than that! Who’s ready to learn the first move?”

Claps and cheers erupt from the circle. Dean lets out a guttural shout “Ye-ah!” So maybe Meg ain’t all that bad. She’s still seems kinda wild, though.

“That’s more like it! We’ll start with pivot turns, then leaders walk back and take their follow into a Corte dip. Let’s show ‘em, Castiel.” The instructors demonstrate the pattern and describe the technicalities. They break down the exact counts. And now it’s time to practice.

Dean wraps his arm around the middle of Charlie’s back and takes her right hand in a ballroom-style hold. Her chest is pressed against his, feeling like two balloons pushing against his torso. It’s an awkward position, but he’s gotten used to it over years of blues dancing. It’s basically the equivalent of a squishy hug.

Dean steps in a circle, pivoting around his right shoulder. After a couple of rotations, he walks backwards, then takes a lunge back with his left foot sending Charlie forward on her right. He pauses, taking a moment to extend the pose and feel the connection with his partner before shifting his center to neutral. They reset and practice again.

“High-five your partner and rotate!” says Cas.

Dean smacks Charlie’s hand hard, and a sting lingers across his palm. Charlie gives him the Vulcan “live long and prosper” salute before moving to the next partner.

Then the instructors give the class some tips.

“A tip for the follow: when you go into the Corte dip, you should be supported by your own weight. Don’t lean into your partner. If they let go and back up, you shouldn’t fall down,” says Meg.

“Leads – to accentuate the pose at the end, add in contra-body. Twist your upper body like so and you’ll get this nice shape. With this partner, let’s practice just the walks backward into a lunge. Get into position,” says Cas.

Blues dancing is always even more awkward because Dean is tall. And of course the next follow who approaches is a full head shorter than him, so her chest is at stomach-level instead of chest-level. Suffice to say, he gets a stomach full of boobs. Not a bad thing, per say, just an awkward thing.

The instructors count them off to do the backwards steps into the corte dip. “Freeze!” comes a shout from Cas. “Leads, rotate your upper body and develop that nice shape. Good, everyone! Now, do it again with this same partner, this time without the freeze. Practice a smooth transition into a contra-body position after the corte dip.”

“Hey, Clarence, that rhymes! Smooth transition into a contra-body position. We’ve gotta remember that one!”

“Huh. Guess it does have a ring to it. Definitely put that one in the back pocket! And with that, let’s continue practicing. Ready, and five, six, seven, eight!...”

They practice the move again, high-five, and rotate. They do the same thing with the next partner before moving on.

“Castiel, I think they’re ready for the twist. Let’s show ‘em!” says Meg.

“Alright. For the twist: go through the move we just practiced. At the end, the follow twists her leg upwards along with her arm, and she may caress her lead’s face and chest downwards,” Cas explains.

The instructors go through the motions multiple times from multiple angles. The pointed heel of Meg’s boots gives the display an extra sharpness as she hitches her leg upwards. Chills travel down Dean’s spine as he witnesses the intimate caress of Meg’s fingers. They trace the side of Cas’s face and then trickle down his chest. Dean imagines they’re his fingers that scrape along the stubble, float over that broad chest, maybe even flick past some perky nipples. There his mind goes again, to things he really ought to not be thinking.

Of course, of course Dean’s the lucky one without a partner this round. His eyes bug out of their sockets as Meg skips her way over to him. He tenses when Meg grabs his hand and places her hand on his shoulder.

“Relax. What’s your name kid?”

He clears his throat before responding, “Dean.”

“Okay Dean. Let’s walk through the move slowly. Go ahead and take the lead.”

Dean leads Meg into the walks, rotation, and corte dip into the twist. For the last bit, Meg cups her hand on Dean’s cheek bone and drags her warm fingers down till they reach his chest. There, her palm gives the surface a nice pat. “Not bad, kid. Not bad at all,” she says with a sly grin and walks away to observe the rest of the class and answer questions.

That was… not as creepy or intimidating as he thought it might be? And he didn’t muck it up, so that’s a relief.

The class practices the same move a few more times with various partners, polishing it as they go.  They learn a couple more moves. It’s during the final one when Dean gets Cas as a partner. And here’s how it all unfolds:

There are butterflies in his stomach as Cas approaches. Those blue eyes are even more exceptional up close, causing Dean’s sharp intake of breath. Dean places his right hand between Cas’s shoulder blades and holds out his left hand at belly-button level in invitation. Cas drapes his left arm over Dean’s bicep and gently lays his right hand in Dean’s left.

“Relax,” there’s that gravel again. Dean internally berates himself because Cas must’ve noticed the tension he’s holding due to his nerves. How embarrassing! He takes a deep breath in and a deep breath out, rolls his shoulders back, and tries to relax his posture and frame.

Dean initiates the move, stepping side to side, then rotating before sending Cas into a free spin with a cross-hand catch. Next comes the part where the follow spins inward towards the lead. He takes the few steps backward but Cas pauses. “Give me more tension here,” he croaks.

Dean follows the advice without speaking. “Good, that’s it,” Dean elates at the praise.

Cas spins in and Dean’s arm curls around his torso. Both of their upper bodies hitch forward slightly, sending their rears outwards. Gosh, Cas’ ass looks stunning in those snug blue jeans! Dean has a moment of hesitation. Does he give Cas a soft spank or give it all he’s got? It would probably be more awkward if he left it soft, so Dean quickly decides to put some force behind his slap. He must hold back a guttural moan as he relishes slapping those firm buttocks. If only that ass was bare, he could see the left over claiming mark of a red handprint. Alas, he’ll never get the opportunity to see the lingering effects of his work.

Dean is about to unwind Cas from their current position when he startles. He receives an equivalently hard spank to the behind. It stings a little even through his jeans. The action he never anticipated causes him to pause, all thoughts vanish. His face heats up as blood rushes to his cheeks. His face must be as red as his ass right now! He doesn’t know how long he stands in that position, unmoving. Maybe a few seconds, or maybe an embarrassingly long minute. As soon as his thoughts are coherent again, Dean twirls Cas outward without further delay. He carries the momentum through a pivot turn rotation and finishes the move.

Green eyes stare into blue ones as the two breathe in the same space. Seconds pass in silence until Cas breaks it with a little grin. “That was awesome,” Cas says and pats Dean on the shoulder. Dean, a little embarrassed by the praise, scratches the back of his head and looks down at his feet. “Thanks.” His cheeks redden again.

Dean’s heart is still hammering when Cas wanders away. He tries to regulate his breathing and calm down before the next rotation. That beautiful man… what’ll happen if he asks him to dance tonight? Surely that won’t come to be. Or will it?

Chapter Text

The inappropriate blues dance class wraps up and they move on to the next workshop. None of the following ones are nearly as exciting or surprising as that first one. After lessons are over, Charlie and Dean have a relaxing evening as friends. They chit-chat with other dancers while enjoying a nice meal at a local diner. Time passes all too quickly and it’s time for the evening dance.

Blues dancers will dress in a variety of different styles. Some dress up, guys wearing a vest with a button down shirt and some slacks. Girls wearing an evening dress or a blouse and skirt. And some dress down in a t-shirt and jeans. Dean definitely aligns with the 2nd option. He wears one of his favorite ACDC t-shirts with a comfy pair of worn-out blue jeans. He has no need to impress anyone with fancy attire; it’s his dance skill that’ll draw people in.

Dean swaggers inside with Charlie on his arm, well over an hour fashionably late. Dancers never arrive on-time anyway – though the band starts to play at 6, most don’t arrive till 6:30 or later, and dancing doesn’t really pick up till closer to 8. They meander over to some chairs to sit and put on dance shoes. The lights are dimmed low with blue and red spot lights across the floor. The ambiance is clearly for night-time blues. In the midst of tying his shoes, Garth appears in his space.

“How about that dance, Dean-o?” Garth asks and holds out his hand in invitation.

“Sure thing,” Dean finishes the bow of his left shoe and stands up for his first dance.

Garth is fun to dance with. He possesses a quirky style, adding in cliché poses to accompany the lyrics of the song. Like finger guns or pointing to himself.

Garth leads at first; Dean follows. The first couple of moves feel a little off as Dean settles into the beat of the music. After the first few measures, Dean finds his footing and sticks with the basic a little longer before adding in musicality. The first dance of the night is always awkward as a dancer becomes acquainted to the transition from lessons to open dancing. Having a familiar partner for the first dance is almost essential, as there are definitely several awkward moments when getting into the swing of things.

During the dance, Dean spots Castiel out of the corner of his eye. A quick glance over and he knows he’s staring right at Dean. Castiel must be judging his every move. He straightens his posture in attempt to exude confidence. Don’t know if it’ll work, but he tries. And he focuses on his technique and musicality throughout the dance. He’s even able to sneak in a couple of fishtails. There are a few times where Dean takes over as the lead. Yes, he enjoys following (it actually helps him become a better leader, plus he has more freedom as a follow and can show off his skill), but he’s much more comfortable leading as that is where most of his experience lies. They keep switching lead and follow throughout the song and Dean becomes more comfortable on the floor as time goes on. His confidence increases as well.

When the song is over, Dean is all warmed up, ready to take on the next dance. Charlie grabs him before anyone else can. Another fantastic partner. They’ve been dancing together for years and have developed chemistry. Dancing with Charlie feels like breathing air; he’s so relaxed and comfortable, he doesn’t have to think much while leading Charlie; he just goes with the flow.

He can feel Cas’s eyes bore into his soul during the entire dance yet again. It sends chills down his spine, but he tries to not let it affect his dancing.

The song finishes and they embrace in a squishy hug. As they walk back over to their seats, someone taps Dean on his shoulder. He turns around and his stomach drops. He stairs into blue crystals.

“May I have this dance?” Cas formally asks.

Dean’s whole world freezes as he processes the question. In reality (though it seems like eons), Dean responds within three seconds, “uh, sure.”

Eels squirm in the pit of Dean’s belly as Cas leads him back to the dance floor.

Cas holds Dean in a closed position, hand resting between his shoulder blades. Dean drapes his left arm atop Cas’s right. They clasp hands and find the beat of the music by matching each other’s pulse. Once they’re in sync, Cas leads Dean into a pivot turn. He catches him in close embrace, then proceeds to walk backwards, dragging Dean elegantly across the floor. Dean feels Cas’s diaphragm expand with a deep breath. On the exhale, Cas lunges backwards which forces Dean into a Corte dip lunge. The pose is intimate; the men’s chests are pressed together, the expanse of Dean’s inner left leg fuses along Cas’s right. His right leg is bent and slotted between Cas’s thighs.

They take the time to sink into the pose and share that intimate moment together. All too soon, Cas pulls him upwards and takes Dean into another turn. They glide across the dance floor. Dean’s nerves are completely forgotten and out the window. His confidence builds and at the opportune moment, he steals the lead from Castiel.

Dean doesn’t let himself think too hard about leading Cas, lest he freak himself out and screw up. He leads Cas through twists and turns, smoothly transitioning from one move to the next. Cas has a sort of grace to his style which shines through his steps. Before he knows it, the song is over. Dean ends the dance in a classic dip. He spins Cas inward and supports him through the connection to his back, and he’s left staring into those deep blue orbs. What a view! If only it would last…

Dean lifts him upwards in ample time so as not to give off a creepy vibe, even though he’d love to hold Cas and stare into those eyes forever.

Several breaths pass as they both stand awkwardly in the middle of the floor before heading back to their seats. Dean feels so high and mighty that he pays no attention to where his feet take him. Which leads him to unintentionally follow Cas back to his seat.

When Dean finally realizes where he is, he feels so out of place. He can’t just wander away without a purpose! That would be way too weird. So he stays.

Meg sits next to Cas and they both chatter away. At some point, she glances over to Dean, aware of his presence. She then gestures towards Dean with a head nod, making Cas look over. His face alights with an unexpected cheeky smile, like a ray of sunshine that melts Dean’s heart.

“Thank you for the dance,” he says.

Dean’s mind short circuits at that statement. His high confidence while in a dancer’s trance is now depleted after stepping off the floor. Receiving that comment leaves Dean short for words. His mind is only capable for the reply of, “you’re welcome.”

“Smooth,” says Meg.

Meg! You’re probably making him feel uncomfortable!”

“Well, I’m so sorry. I’ll just skedaddle and let you two love birds chat in peace. Though I want a full report afterwards!”

Cas rolls his eyes as Meg leaves to find a dance partner. Cas and Dean have some semi-alone time to themselves.

“Remind me of your name again, I don’t recall if I asked during the lesson,” asks Cas.

“It’s Dean. Uh, Dean Winchester.”

“Well, hello Dean. I’m Castiel Novak. Though most people refer to me as Cas. What do you do for a living?”

Dean’s nerves lessen at Cas’s mild question provoking small talk. He can do this.

“I work as a mechanic at a shop not too far from here. If ya ever need a fix or a tow, I’m your guy.”

“These last couple of weeks must’ve been busy for you, with the detrimental weather.”

“Yeah… my boss had ta force me to take off work for the dance. Once he heard about it, he refused to let me work over the weekend.”

“Your boss, he sounds like a nice guy.”

“Only the best boss ever. Enough about me, though. Do you have a job other than, you know, teaching dance?”

“Why yes. I work part time as a psychologist. Listening to my clients’ histories can be rather… depressing. Dance gives some light to my weeks.”

“Cool…” Dean struggles to think of what to say in response. So as not to cause a moment of awkward silence, he asks the first question that comes to mind.

“I’m curious, if you don’t mind me asking, where did you get the idea for the inappropriate blues dance class?”

Cas smirks. “That depends, do you want the formal answer or the not so appropriate one?”

What could that not so appropriate explanation be?! Now he NEEDS to know the answer. Both answers actually. “Both….?” his hesitant response almost turns into a question.

 “Hmmmm. Interesting answer.”

Wait, is he psychoanalyzing me?!

“After witnessing and hearing second hand about several inappropriate behaviors on the dance floor, I knew I had to do something. The point of the class was to educate dancers about appropriate floor etiquette in a creative way. I hope it improves the dance floor culture in some way. That’s the formal answer.”

What’s the inappropriate one!!!

“Now, the inappropriate one… come here, get closer.” He pats the chair that Meg vacated earlier in their conversation. Dean plops right down.

Cas continues in a serious tone, “I hope this doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable. Please let me know if it does. I’ll understand if you don’t want to dance with me again.”

What?!? Come on! Now I just need to know even more! What is it?!

Cas leans in close. Lips brush Dean’s ear as he whispers, “I have some… fetishes. In particular, a spanking fetish.”

So that’s why he didn’t hold back on that spank. Dean turns his head away in embarrassment and his cheeks blush scarlet at the memory and at what he’s gonna say next.

And he needs to say it soon. ‘Cause when Dean looks back at Cas, he’s leaned back to give Dean some personal space. His eyebrows are scrunched, like he’s concerned about how Dean will respond to his confession.

Dean won’t let this man wait. “I, uh, I have something to admit, too.” He rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “And I’d better reveal it now before I lose the confidence,” He mumbles under his breath. Here goes nothin’.

Dean leans into Cas’ personal space and holds his mouth inches from his ear. He whispers, “I have a fetish, too,” gosh, this is embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m doing this. He forces the words out anyway, “Mine’s a panty fetish. Particularly lacy ones with bright colors.”

I can’t look at Cas right now, I can’t look at Cas right now, I can’t look at Cas right now….

Instead, his eyes focus on the hard wood floor. He clenches his lower lip between his teeth.

The ghost of breath in his ear makes his eyes go wide, the voice almost an entire octave lower than normal.

“Are you wearing panties right now?”

He can’t form words at the moment, so he nods his head yes.

“If you don’t mind, can I see them?”

Dean closes his eyes and bites down on his lip hard to hold back a moan. He lets himself take several deep breaths before opening his eyes and turning to face Cas. And yes, there’s a bulge forming in Dean’s jeans. No, it probably won’t go away anytime soon. Thank God for the low lighting of the ballroom.

Dean thinks of the perfect response. “Sure. If you don’t mind accompanying me to the men’s room.”

A grin plasters itself on Cas’ face. “Well, let’s go then.”

They both stand and try to be discrete as they make their way to the bathrooms.

Luckily, no one is waiting in line for the men’s restroom. And the stalls have floor-to-ceiling doors and walls, so there’s no risk of any voyeurs. They scoot into the stall in the furthest corner. Cas locks the door with a click.

His gaze lands on Dean’s crotch. His hand moves towards it, and then stops. He asks, “May I?” obviously referring to the button on his jeans.

They both keep their voices low in case there are other occupants in the bathroom. “Go for it.”

With permission, Cas unbuttons his jeans delicately, like he’s detonating a bomb that could explode at any moment. He pushes them down to mid-thigh.

Cas’s mouth hangs open in shock as he takes in what he sees: hot pink laced panties that entrap a half-hard cock. There’s a wet patch of pre-come on the bulge. Dean stands nervous as he waits for Cas to say something.

“Wow. That’s… wow… Too bad we have a dance to attend. Would you like to know what I want to do with you in those panties?”

“Yeah.”

Cas growls in that sultry baritone voice, “I want to bend you over my knee and smack that perky ass of yours until it glows beneath the color pink.”

Dean gasps. The wet spot on his crotch expands in size. Cas must notice because he continues with his rant.

“I want to yank those panties down to your knees, which would provide a light restraint to keep you in place. Because I want to deliver spanks to your bare ass with my hand. After it blushes pink, I want to use my special hair brush to make it the same scarlet red as your face right now.”

Dean can’t help but let out a grunt as he tries to prevent himself from coming on those words alone.

“I wish we could continue this conversation, but I’m afraid we both have a dance to attend. Let’s take a rain check. Clean yourself up, make yourself look presentable before exiting the facilities. If you’re still interested in the rain check, approach me in 1 hour. If you pass inspection, I’ll give you the address of the bar where several of us will be after late-night. I hope to see you soon.”

With that, Cas sneaks out of the stall, keeping the door closed enough so onlookers can’t see inside.

That was so…. Hot! His dick is hard as a rock. He can’t go back out on the dance floor like this! He has one of two options: jerk himself off in the bathroom, or painfully make the hard-on go away.

Dean likes to stick to some kind of morals, and he won’t be able to use this bathroom again if he makes himself come. He’d never be able to attend a dance here again due to the emotional embarrassment. Thus he selects option two, though he’s not looking forward to it.

He slides the panties down his thighs and pulls his dick out from the elastic band. He supports himself with a hand against the side wall unconnected to another stall. After a deep breath in, he does the inevitable which knocks his breath away.

Once his breathing regulates, he takes some toilet paper to clean up what he can. Then he’s able to slip the panties and jeans back on. He makes sure to check himself in the mirror to ensure his clothes are properly straight and his hair isn’t out of place.

Time to get back out on the dance floor! It will be a good distraction from pondering about what may come later tonight. Does he plan to take Cas up on his offer? Hell yes!

 


 

 

It’s exactly 1 hour later, and Cas is in the middle of a dance with none other than Meg. Watching them dance almost causes him jealousy. They must have a several years long relationship as dance partners. Their chemistry is amazing! It almost looks choreographed even though it’s improvised. Meg embellishes her steps masterfully, finding the ability to express herself while following the cues from her lead. It takes YEARS of practice to be able to seamlessly improvise such moves. Dean’s eyes never leave the couple throughout the entire song.

Meg and Cas approach their seats holding hands with a smile.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Heya Cas.”

“Let me look at you.” His eyes gaze up and down Dean’s body. He scrutinizes every detail, which makes Dean feel exposed, almost worse than their moment in the bathroom.

“Now turn around.” Dean turns to face the dance floor and watches other dancers as he patiently waits for Cas’s approval.

“Okay. You pass. Here, I’ll write down the name of the bar we’ll be at after the dance. Please invite any friends you wish to join us. I look forward to seeing you there!”

Dean wanders back over to his seat next to Charlie. He needs to tell her.

He displays the writing on said paper so Charlie can see.

“He – well, Cas – just invited me to a bar after the dance. Do ya wanna go with me?”

Dean should’ve expected Charlie’s shrill squeal of delight. He flinches instinctually. “Do I wanna go with you? Of course I wanna go with you! Congratulations dude!” Charlie elbows him in the ribs.

“Alright, alright. We’ll both go after the dance is over.”

Chapter Text

Dean drives his baby along the windy road while Charlie follows behind in her own car. Being alone in this moment, Dean must be careful about letting his mind drift. God forbid he work himself into a nervous wreck before taking a foot outside his car. He tries to reduce his nerves by singing along with some classic rock tunes and focusing on the road before him. Still his stomach’s in knots as he pulls up to the Road House – the bar Cas is, most likely, already inside.

Dean ventures to the Road House all the time. It’s owned by Ellen, who is Dean’s unofficial mother. She and her daughter Jo usually co-manage the place over the weekend. Jo is like Dean’s sister from another mister. They’ve had their fair share of bonding experience. Nothin’ like caring for each other through dark nights of heavy drinking.

The atmosphere inside is casual and homey, which will help further calm Dean’s nerves. He forces himself to stand up and lock the door behind him. The air is nippy, but it will be warm inside the bar.

Charlie and Dean both enter the Road House through the main double doors. Cas is already seated at a long table with Meg and a crew of people who must also be dancers from the event. Dean recognizes some faces, but doesn’t know any of them personally. Great, time to meet new people. Charlie will make it better, though. She’s quite the social butterfly, all enthusiastic even after dancing for hours.

“Hello, Dean. And Charlie, it’s good to see you again. This is Meg,” says Cas.

“Hi, how are ya?” asks Meg.

“We’re fabulous,” replies Charlie before Dean has the chance to respond.

“Well, isn’t that just peachy,” sneers Meg.

Cas speaks up before the conversation escalates too much further. “Let me introduce you both to the rest of the group.” And they proceed with introductions.

Everyone goes around the table saying their name. Some he does recognize from dancing earlier in the evening or from other events.

They aren’t far into their conversation before Jo approaches.

“Howdy, guys. What can I get you folks to eat and drink?”

Jo stares directly at Dean, as he’s seated at the end of the table. “The usual, please,” he says.

“Sure thing, bucko.”

She goes onto Charlie next, and then everyone else orders. Cas is the last one.

“May I please get the double bacon cheeseburger with a side of fries and whatever local brew you’ve got on tap.”

Dean’s mouth hangs open. Cas ordered the same exact thing he’s having. They must have more in common that he originally thought. He wonders what else they might have in common…

“Alright, I’ll start on the drinks. They’ll be out shortly!” announces Jo. And she’s off to the kitchen.

“What is that look for, Dean?” Cas asks in confusion. His eyebrows are scrunched together, head tilted to the side like a lost puppy dog. It’s an adorable look on him.

“We have the same taste in food and beer, apparently,” says Dean.

“Is that so?”

And that sparks a conversation about everyone’s favorite food. And dessert. Dean’s favorite is apple pie, of course. And he learns Cas enjoys honey cake. They go off on multiple tangents. Somehow Cas leads them into a conversation about bees, and time flies. Before they know it, drinks arrive. They were a little raucous even before the alcohol because they’re all on a dancer’s high, which is that same adrenaline rush that runners succumb to. The drinks only make them more boisterous, the conversations more interesting.

By the time food arrives, there aren’t many patrons left in the bar. While everyone is eating and chatting, Jo stops by again. After she asks if everyone has what they need, she pulls over a chair and plops down next to Dean.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted! It’s been a busy day,” Jo says.

“I’m sure it was,” says Dean. “How’ve you been lately?”

“Same old, same old. Jus’ taken care of the bar with my old mama. Folks need a distraction from all this cold weather, so we’ve been busy. How ‘bout you?”

“The shop’s been busy, too. Bobby forced me to take off for this dance.”

“Oh, I totally forgot you did that. That’s why all these folks are here.”

“Yeah. Hey, would you like to meet some of these folks? They’re pretty cool,” says Dean. He introduces Jo to everyone and she joins in the conversation at the table.

They talk until everyone clears their plate. Jo gathers up the dirty dishes and is back in no time.

“Hey, Jo. I’ve got an idea. Do you think Ellen would mind if we moved some tables to the side so we could dance?” asks Dean after she comes back.

“No, not at all.”

The dancers all help push the tables out of the way and stack up the chairs. Jo appears with a mop.

“I figure we should clean the floor before you all dance. It’s probably sticky right now.”

“Hey, I could help you,” Cas speaks up.

“Sure. Here, let me grab the second mop from the closet so we can work faster.”

Both Jo and Cas mop up while everyone else stands along the perimeter of the room and talks. Dean stares, even though he knows it might be creepy. Cas wears a short sleeved shirt. With each sweep of the mop, his arm muscles clench. Cas peeks over at Dean, but he doesn’t stop staring. Cas gives him a sly smile and continues moping. He’s so entranced by the sight that he doesn’t realize how much time has gone by once they’re done. After the floors are mopped, they have some downtime while they wait for it to dry. Cas corners Dean for a private conversation. They’re both obviously lusting after each other; they need to talk. Alone.

“Stare much?” asks Cas.

“Yeah… sorry ‘bout that,” says Dean as he blushes.

“For some reason, I don’t think you’re sorry at all.” Cas glares at him, which makes Dean feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. He’s been exposed. Instead of cowering in shame, he buffs up. He somehow manages to steer their conversation into a different direction that doesn’t delve into anything sexual. They chat to get to know each other better. It’s only small talk. However, they learn more about each other’s personalities, what their likes and dislikes are, what they love, what they hate, what they’re pet peeves are, etc.

It’s only when Meg pulls Cas away for the first dance that they stop talking. Jo had turned the juke box to a bluesy tune. Charlie grabs Dean for the song.

With a smaller, more intimate crowd, everyone receives the opportunity to dance with one another. Some, Dean dances with more than once. In between dances, he talks more with Cas. He’s definitely developing a deeper crush on the guy with every new detail he learns.

As the night wears on, the songs become slower. Couples simply sway to the beat with no need to add any fancy embellishments.

It’s 3 am, way past Dean’s usual bedtime. It’s been one hell of a long day. He’s almost reached that point where all he wants to do is go home, curl up underneath a web of soft blankets, and sleep before having to wake up a mere handful of hours later for work. Before he can call it quits and leave for the night (well, early morning), Cas asks him for a dance.

This one is slow. They step from side to side. Step, drag, touch. Step, drag, touch. Step, drag, touch. Cas assumes the lead position; Cas’s hand is placed securely between Dean’s shoulder blades and Dean rests his arm along Cas’s muscular shoulder. Damn, those shoulders. Their connection is loose, but firm. Their chests touch, their legs slot between each other.  They rock from left to right in perfect unison, along to the music. Both men are physically exhausted from the day. Cas’s head eventually finds its way onto Dean’s shoulder. He makes a pillow out of the crook of his neck.

The position almost feels too intimate for two men who met each other for the first time that same day. However, Dean is so tired, he doesn’t bother to give a care about it. He just lets it happen. It feels good in this moment; it feels right.

Errant thoughts slip into Dean’s mind. He does need to go home, rest before the next day of work. Which leads him to ask as they sway together, “wanna go back home, go to bed? I’ll walk ya back out to your car.” He accentuates the end with a drawn out, open-mouthed yawn.

Castiel takes a deep breath and readjusts his head on Dean’s shoulder. “No… not quite yet. ‘Preciate the offer. Think I can make it to the car on my own. Finish this song with me, though… and maybe the next one, too… please?”

How can Dean say no to that?! “Sure, babe. One more song, then we’ll go. Gotta get some shut eye before work tomorrow morning.”

Cas’s heat shoots up. “You have work tomorrow?! Don’t let me keep you here. You should go home and rest!”

“No, no. It’s fine. I insist. I’ve had worse nights, sleep-wise. It honestly won’t be that bad. I wanna dance this last song with you, then go home.  Not before. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. In the meantime, a giant pot of shop coffee in the morning will get me through the day. Don’t you worry your pretty little heart ‘bout it.”

Something in Cas’s eyes twinkle. He sets his head back on Dean’s shoulder, closes his eyes, and a low hum escapes past his lips. “Thank you, Dean.”

 


 

 

“And we finish out an awesome slow dance. I give him my phone number and he texts me his before we part ways.”

“Even though I insisted against it, you walked me back to my car. We shared our first kiss.” Dean’s cheeks turn pink from the heated, passionate memory.

“And that is how I first met the love of my life, standing here before me.” Cas gazes his blue eyes, the color of waves in the Pacific Ocean, at Dean. In that moment, he forgets the crowd around him. It’s just him and his husband (yes, he can finally refer to Cas as his husband now). His friends and family in the audience surrounding them do not exist.

“And I love you with all my heart,” says Dean. He sets down his glass of champagne before pressing his lips against Cas’s.

Their mouths part open, tongues twist and intertwine. Dean takes the time to explore Cas’s mouth, prodding at the roof, his teeth, the underside of his tongue. He becomes distracted by Castiel all too easily. It’s not till a few uncomfortable-sounding throat clearings that Cas and Dean remember they have an audience. They cut their kiss short and part lips.

It feels way too weird not to be touching. Dean grabs hold of Cas’s hand.

Applause erupts amongst the crowd as the newlywed couple stare into each other’s eyes while grasping hands.

After several years of knowing each other, they’re finally married. Now they can start a new adventure as husbands.

“I love you,” Cas whispers in Dean’s ear.

“Love you, too,” Dean whispers back.