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He lands with a soft thwump, surveying the motel room for a scant second before zeroing in on the only other occupant. Dean hasn’t noticed Castiel joining him and Castiel is just about to announce his presence when Dean walks up to the only window and jerks the curtains shut with unexpected force.

Castiel frowns when Dean leans in to peek through the curtains before straightening them to ensure nothing can be seen in or out. For a moment he wonders if Dean is hunted by something, or maybe hunting himself, and he looks around the room but finds no evidence of Sam. Perhaps the younger brother is out there, having a stake-out?

Castiel takes a moment to fly around town but finds nothing that could be triggering Dean’s hunter instincts and no evidence of Sam. Confused, he returns to the room only to find Dean standing by his open duffle, looking into it with a flushed face. He jolts as if he’s heard Castiel joining him once again and his jerky movements make Castiel pause with revealing himself. If he couldn’t see Dean’s Righteous Soul shining so brightly he might be persuaded to think this is an imposter.

But it’s definitely not and Castiel takes a moment to peek into the duffle when Dean leaves it to check on the window again. He hears Dean try the locks on the front door as well but he doesn’t turn to observe the man’s odd behavior. He’s too distracted trying to figure out what could make Dean flushed from looking at the content of his duffle. It seems to be mostly normal human things to Castiel.

When Dean shuffles back Castiel steps smoothly out of the way, too curious for his own good at the moment. And Dean doesn’t surprise when he draws a shaky breath and pulls open a side pocket Castiel hadn’t noticed only to pull out a phallic shaped object.

“Oh,” Castiel thinks as he watches Dean’s features while Dean turns the object over in his hands. Oh, Dean looks beautiful, like a work of art. The many freckles sprinkled out over his face stand out as he blushes sweetly. Castiel tilts his head to the side, observing from a different angle but before he can look his fill Dean gets a look of determination on his face and puts down the object to shuck off his jacket.

It gets carelessly tossed onto the bed and Dean rummages around his duffle some more before pulling out a tube that reads KY Jelly in blue letters. This too gets tossed on the bed. Dean brings the object with him when he goes to the bathroom. For some reason unfathomable to Castiel since Dean seems to still think he’s alone, Dean closes and locks the bathroom door. The behavior is strange but what distracts Castiel until Dean comes back out again is the text on the tube.

 

KY Jelly

Personal lubricant

Quickly prepares you for intimacy

Protects against discomfort

Recommended by gynecologists

 

It also says Net Wt. 4 oz (113 g) but that’s less interesting. No, what catches Castiel’s attention is the “Quickly prepares you for intimacy” part. He wonders if that means what he thinks it does but doesn’t have much time to contemplate it before the bathroom door opens again. He turns his head when Dean walks out of the bathroom, now naked save for a small towel wrapped around his narrow waist and Castiel squints when he sees Dean hefting the phallic object while smiling a secret smile down at it.

He’s slightly damp as if from a recent shower and Castiel thinks it should be disconcerting how he didn’t even notice Dean turning on the shower because he was so focused on the KY Jelly. But he can’t concentrate on that now that he’s looking at Dean again. The man looks flushed now too but there is a difference from before, one which Castiel can’t pinpoint but likes for some reason. Dean had looked beautiful before but now he’s simply stunning. Castiel almost stumbles back when Dean makes his way to the bed only to flop down on it.

He sighs, a little annoyed, and rises on one elbow to punch his pillow. The shape of it hardly seems to change but Dean appears not to care so much the second time he lies down. Instead he lifts the object and smiles again, this time more lecherous than secret and Castiel finds himself oddly entranced.

“How’s this for size, huh?” Dean murmurs and Castiel feels a spike of adrenaline go through his vessel at the thought of Dean knowing he’s here.

He looks down at his stomach but dismisses the feeling when he finds it more enjoyable than concerning. Instead he looks up to observe Dean casually playing with the object in his hands, twirling it and running his fingers along it. It almost looks like…

Castiel frowns when he sees the towel over Dean’s crotch area rise. He realizes what he’s actually witnessing the split second before Dean removes the towel, but before he can fly away his eyes land on Dean’s erection and that adrenaline spike feeling is back.

Dean puts the object down against his hard dick and it’s now clear to Castiel that the object is in fact some kind of fake penis. Honestly, despite the blue color and the rubber-looking material he should have recognized the poor attempt at imitating the head of a dick and he feels a bit flustered with his own inabilities. Dean surely would have laughed at him for not knowing.

Or would he?

Castiel is just about to reveal himself to ask when Dean squeezes both his own dick and the fake one together in one of his big hands. The action makes his dick jerk and fill out even more and Dean presses his head back against the lumpy pillow, closing his eyes and moaning softly. Castiel finds himself completely unable to look away.

“Fuck yeah.” Dean rasps and releases his hard grip only to renew it with what looks like more intent. “Would feel so fucking good.”

What would? This? But he’s already experiencing this, maybe Dean’s thinking of a similar situation? The “would” implies that it’s something he hasn’t done but might want to. Yet again, Castiel’s reveal is at the tip of his tongue, his curiosity spiked to unheard of heights, but Dean surprises him again.

With one hand he holds the base of the fake dick close to the base of his own and with the other he makes a jacking motion, pulling on his dick along with the fake one. The motion appears to feel very good because he moans again, louder, and arches his back slightly.

“B-bet you’re so much bigger.” Dean groans out, his voice clipped in a decidedly enticing way. “Big and hard and you wouldn’t know—fuck!” he stops stroking and removes the fake to squeeze the base of his own dick. “You wouldn’t know what to do, would you?” he says with a chuckle, eyes still shut as he gathers the droplet beading at the top of his dick. “So fucking hot.” He whispers in a rasp and spreads the droplet out and down his shaft.

Castiel can do nothing but agree. Despite his grace rushing to cool his vessel he can feel himself growing increasingly warm and he doesn’t even know why. The motel room in itself isn’t very hot, although he supposes some warmth may have seeped out with the steam Dean let out when he opened the bathroom door.

Still, Dean is completely naked on the bed and by Castiel’s estimate that would mean he should be more chilled than hot. In fact, when he steps a bit closer he can see that Dean’s nipples are erect, as if to indicate a low temperature. Or…

He glances down at Dean’s dick, so hard and flushed a pretty pink color. Or maybe the state of his nipples are an indication of his arousal? He kind of wants to touch them but manages to stop himself in the last moment because that would be very wrong, wouldn’t it?

Dean chooses that moment to sit up and pat around the bed and Castiel’s thoughts get derailed in a way unfamiliar to him. Dean smiles his lecherous smile again when he finds the lubricant and he flops back on the bed with a grunt. His dick bobs with the motion and the fake one rolls off his pelvis to land by his hip.

“Gonna make this good, handsome.” Dean murmurs sweetly and Castiel’s vessel flushes even hotter.

People have called him handsome before, at least since Jimmy Novak allowed him entrance, and Castiel’s mind easily fills with images of himself above Dean right now. Maybe the “Quickly prepares you for intimacy” on the KY tube could mean that Dean would be able to use it on the two of them? Castiel’s vessel has a dick too and what if Dean would press Castiel’s dick against his hard one? And maybe rub them with the KY lubricant? Would… would that feel good?

Well, judging by the way Dean groans and actively bucks into his own slick hand Castiel would say that it feels really, really good. He watches with a suddenly dry mouth as Dean pinches his nipples with one hand as his other works at an increasing pace. Castiel’s own nipples feel sensitive where they rub against the dress shirt Jimmy Novak had clad him in and when he looks down he’s startled to see his own dick tenting the slacks almost obscenely.

He puts a hand over it and has to grit his teeth against a sound when the sensation makes his whole body light up. Thankfully Dean distracts him by squirting out more jelly and smearing it down between his legs.

“Oh, yeah…” he groans and grins to himself, quickly finding the fake dick and rubbing it down there too.

Castiel hastily moves to the foot of the bed to be able to see better and he almost chokes on his own spittle when he sees Dean playing with his butthole. It’s completely smeared with the lubricant and Dean’s poking two fingers against his hole as he rubs the tip of the fake dick against his tight balls. It looks completely debauched and somehow divine at the same time. Castiel can feel his whole being, grace and all, call out to the man before him and he can do nothing but stare with wide eyes as Dean slowly but surely stretches the muscle to fit three of his thick fingers inside his hole.

Fingers that Castiel helped remodel are now touching the man’s hole and perineum, places that Castiel took forever to get just right. Intimate parts of Dean that perhaps no one but Dean and Castiel know about. And suddenly what he does know is not enough. Because he spent immeasurable time recreating Dean’s body but he didn’t get to know it. Not like what Dean is showing him now, the sounds and the smells alone are enough to propel Castiel forward until his knees are a scant inch from touching the bed.

Dean looks exquisite.

He’s touching himself in a way that Castiel knows is sexual but even though he has sometimes accidentally witnessed other humans do this he’s never been compelled to stay and watch. He hadn’t like it when Uriel called humans mud monkeys but the truth is that they’re not the same as angels and maybe he should feel like a human watching a dog pleasuring itself. Should probably feel like he doesn’t want to see it at all and definitely not want to touch it.

But Lord Almighty, he can’t look away and he wants to touch Dean so badly.

And then Dean is adding even more lubricant, the jelly sliding down his plump ass cheeks to pool on the towel under him. Castiel subconsciously licks his lips as he watches with eyes greedier than he cares to admit. And then Dean places the head of the fake dick against his twitching hole and oh, is he going to…?

“Fucking hell.” Dean grunts and yes, yes he’s certainly going to push that thick thing inside him.

This is new to Castiel. Not anal sex in and of itself, that he’s unintentionally witnessed before, but he’s never seen a man be the recipient and he’s certainly never thought Dean would like it. But he seems to enjoy it so much.

“Come on. Yeah, fuck me.” He moans and Castiel’s whole vessel twitches with the need to obey. “You’re gonna give it to me good, ain’t ya little angel?”

Castiel takes a frightened step back, certain this time that Dean must have discovered him. But the man’s eyes are still closed and a small smile plays on his lips as he slowly presses the fake dick inside him. His own dick is lying hard and flat up against his hip, red and drooling all over Dean’s tanned skin.

When he realizes that Dean really hasn’t noticed him but is only fantasizing, a burn flares up in Castiel’s stomach but it’s not a pleasant one. He recognizes it as the same feeling he got when he witnessed Dean and Anna kissing and knows by now that it’s jealousy. Because clearly Dean has someone on his mind and Castiel kind of wants to smite that person.

The heat simmering inside him is quelled some by both his jealousy and the guilt over said jealousy and he’s just about to turn away, knowing full well that he should feel guilty about having watched Dean as well. But then Dean shoves the last of the fake dick inside him, arching off the bed with a small wail.

Castiel’s heart lodges in his throat and he turns back, fearful that Dean has hurt himself in his excitement. What he finds is Dean panting with a wide grin on his beautiful mouth, one hand thumbing the base of the fake dick and the other pinching his nipple again.

“You’re eager, ain’tcha?” he murmurs sweetly as if he’s talking to someone specific and Castiel’s back to flushing hot again.

His dick lurches in his slacks and he puts his hand back down on it, only this time he grips himself rhythmically as Dean starts pulling on the fake dick. In and out in short little thrusts that soon has him writhing on the bed, rolling his nipple with his other hand.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” He moans, his usually low timber going higher in his arousal. “Want you so bad, fucking hell I know it would feel so goddamn good.”

Castiel licks his lips again, trying to get moisture going in his mouth and he realizes that he aches to kiss Dean’s soft lips. Yes, he remembers them very clearly. Soft and smooth under his vessel’s fingers, even Jimmy had remarked on it before he got killed by Raphael and left Castiel alone in this vessel. A vessel that he feels less and less in control of.

Dean would never let him touch his lips now, Castiel’s sure, but he sometimes catches himself watching them when Dean speaks and Dean does the same to him. Castiel puts his fingers against his lips, pressing a little as he watches Dean release the fake dick to start stroking his neglected dick. For a moment Castiel thinks the fake dick will slide out but Dean pulls up his legs, plants his feet on the bed and cants his hips so that he can fuck himself down on the invading object.

The movement is smooth and obviously practiced and Castiel watches hungrily as Dean pleasures himself. He wonders if this is practice for the person Dean is fantasizing about or if Dean usually pleasures himself like this. Maybe he’s not thinking about someone special after all, maybe he just likes the feeling?

“Sh-shit…” Dean moans then and draws Castiel’s attention to his face. His expression is somewhere between bliss and torture and Castiel aches to help him reach only bliss. “I can’t stand it, I—fuck yeah—I want you, I-I…”

His whole body judders when a broken sob overtakes him and yes, Castiel is now certain that his first assessment was true; that Dean’s not just enjoying the feelings or fantasying about some generic person. There is someone he longs for and though that does make Castiel jealous again his body is too aroused for him to be able to focus on the jealousy now. His dick feels so hard it hurts and no matter how much his grace rushes to elevate the ache it’s not enough.

He watches Dean stroke his hand quickly over his own dick and decides that Dean must know what he’s doing. So he opens his slacks and sticks his hand inside. Just the feeling of his fingers brushing against him with only the boxers between is enough to make him shudder with pleasure. His legs feel weak and he watches with hooded eyes as Dean’s movements start getting uncoordinated.

“Fuck yeah. Fuck me harder, angel.” He groans and reaches down to grab the fake dick again, abandoning his nipple. “Gonna come so fucking hard for you—ah, shit!” he throws his head back, exposing the long column of his throat and Castiel feels a flush rising on his cheeks at the submissive display.

He’s completely still except for his fingers that are steadily massaging his hard flesh, coaxing waves of pleasure to roll through him, emanating from his groin. Dean, on the contrary, is all but thrashing on the bed by now. His whole body is flushed a pretty pink and he’s fucking up into his hand even as he wrecks his tight little hole with the hard fake dick. Castiel swallows hard when Dean’s body locks up.

“Fuck, fuck yeah…” he moans long and low, his hand working furiously over his dick while the other grinds the fake one deep inside him. “Watch me come, fucking see me Cas.” Castiel jolts with surprise yet again but he doesn’t have much more time to react before Dean is coming.

He screams Castiel’s nickname as his dick pumps out long, fat stripes of ejaculate. It lands all over him and the bed and Castiel can only stand there, staring stupidly as his own body convulses and he empties into his boxers. He’s barely aware of his own orgasm, so overtaken by Dean’s and by the fact that Dean screamed his name.

In the blink of an eye Castiel is miles away, breathing more raggedly than he’s ever experienced before and his mind a jumble of thoughts and impressions that all feel too big for him to ever sort through. But he has to sort through them before he meets with Dean.

He can’t let the hunter see and know what Castiel has done, even if he might be the one Dean is yearning for. No, Castiel knows very clearly that what he did is considered wrong by humans, taboo even, and even if he feels like reciprocating he’s determined to wait for Dean to express his desires clearly, however long that will take. Anything for Dean to feel comfortable.

 


 

Dean grins to himself as he plays for a moment with the goopy mess on his stomach. Yeah, maybe he should’ve left the shower for after but he’d wanted to play with his ass and he likes to be clean when he does that, thank you very much.

And fuck yeah, that had felt absolutely fantastic. Even though he knows his ass is gonna be sore for a few days it’s always worth it and hey, he very seldom gets the chance to do this so why not indulge? Why not let him and Sammy being apart for the moment bring at least something good?

He sighs when he thinks about using Cas as fapping material again, though. That’s got to stop because yeah, Cas is fucking great and all but he’s an angel and clearly out of bounds for Dean. There’s got to be a special place worse than Hell for people who fucks angels and Dean’s already done one so let’s not pile on, huh?

Still, though, he can’t deny how much better everything feels when he’s imaging Cas is the one who’s touching him…

He should get a better dildo, though, he thinks as he pulls out this one. Maybe one that looks more like a dick, with the veins and everything. Or maybe a vibrator? He thinks about it as he showers quickly again, getting sure to be rid of all the lube. Honestly he’d picked out this dildo mostly because of the color and because he thought it could be an accurate size. He hasn’t seen Cas naked, sure, but he’s a pretty substantial guy so Dean bets he’s hung. Or maybe that’s just Castiel that feels like that? The vessel was after all that Jimmy Novak guy and he hadn’t felt huge when Dean and Sam talked to him. Maybe he would be smaller or the same size as Dean?

He rubs his hair quickly as he steps out of the shower, looking at his own reflection in thought.

“Or maybe the size isn’t the thing, huh?”

Yeah, maybe it’s just that Cas is a dorky little angel and Dean kind of wants to ruin him. Or wants him to ruin Dean. Same thing, essentially.

He groans in annoyance when he goes out to the outer room and notices that he forgot the jacket on the bed while he was going at it and now he’s got spunk on it. Disgusting. He frowns his way through throwing on some clothes and then takes the jacket to the bathroom to wash it off. Hopefully it hasn’t dried in too much…

He wets a wash cloth and does his best to dab it off instead of rubbing it in. When he turns back to the sink he happens to look up and sees Cas suddenly standing just behind his back, looking more rumpled than ever. Dean’s heart stops for a moment and he has to catch himself on the sink.

“God!” he hisses, slapping down the wash cloth. Fuck, meeting Cas’ eyes even through the mirror image is weird so soon after Dean’s just come his brains out thinking about the angel fucking him. “Don’t do that.”

Cas looks somewhere between contrite and confused. “Hello Dean.” He says after a moment as if that will make his creepy sneaking okay and damnit, his voice is gravelly enough to send chills down Dean’s spine. Chills that he refuses to acknowledge because he just acknowledged the shit out of chills just like that and he can’t relive those memories with Cas so close.

Instead he spins around with a grumpy expression, definitely intent on giving Cas a snarky reply but Cas doesn’t move away. This basically puts them within inches of each other and fucking hell, Dean’s body is heating up again. It’s too fucking soon after his orgasm, goddamnit.

“Cas.” He says, exasperate. “We’ve talked about this. Personal space.”

There’s a beat of silence before Cas answers. “My apologies.”

Dean doesn’t know if he’s even relieved when Cas steps back. Fuck he smells good. He grabs his jacket off the counter when he walks away, not because he’s done cleaning it but because shit, he can’t let Cas accidentally see the come stains.

“How’d you find me? I thought I was flowing below the angel radar.”

“You are.” Cas confirms easily. “Bobby told me where you were.”

Dean scoffs. Goddamn Bobby… Dean wants to be annoyed and he’s going to pretend he is, no doubt, but Cas is here now so let’s focus on why that is.

“Where’s Sam?”

Okay, ouch. Dean’s not going to pretend it doesn’t hurt that Cas immediately wants to know about Sam. Sure, he’s also important to the angel and whatever but Dean’s the one he saved out of Hell, right? Guess that’s not enough…

“Me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while.” He wants Cas to say stuff about that, something comforting perhaps? But the angel’s quiet and Dean’s not going to ask, not going to be a little sissy about his brother abandoning him. “So, did you find God yet? More important, can I have my damn necklace back, please?”

“No, I haven’t found him.” Cas looks so prideful that Dean almost wants to hug him because damn, he knows what it’s like with an absent father. Knows the pain of trying to convince yourself that everything’s fine even when it isn’t. “That’s why I’m here, I need your help.”

Dean pretends he has to look down to roll up his sleeves because he doesn’t want Cas to see his pleased expression. Cas never comes to him to ask for help, the feeling is unexpectedly nice. Still not going to admit that so easily, though.

“With what? God hunt? Not interested.”

It’s hard to tell if Cas is hurt by the rebuff or just frustrated with the situation. “Not God, it’s someone else.”

“Who?”

“Archangel.” Cas walks closer, stalking even, and Dean has to seriously control himself. Is it hot in here? He probably shouldn’t have put on another layer. “The one who killed me.”

It baffles Dean how easily Cas can just bring something like that up. Fuck, the memory alone is making Dean’s insides churn uncomfortably.

“Excuse me?”

Cas looks into Dean’s eyes and they’re so close again, close enough that if Dean took just half a step he could bring himself right up against Cas’ solid frame. Could kiss him.

“His name is Raphael.”

Dean should joke this away, has to joke his feelings away, and he’s going to in just a second. Just a second longer to look into Cas’ eyes and savor the feeling of his ass being split open on that dildo while he imagined Cas’ stupidly handsome face smiling down at him.

So yeah, a hunt for an archangel with just him and Cas sounds like a blast.

“You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?”

Such a super fun goddamn blast…