The first time it happened, Dean was certain it was a joke. Granted, the angels up until that point had never shown an obvious sense of humor, but what other explanation was there?
They were in Bobby’s hospital room, trying to get the old man out of his funk, when Castiel called Sam inquiring about their location. When the angel showed up, Dean tuned out the majority of what he was saying—it was just easier that way. Something about God and killing Lucifer and… an amulet?
His eyes drifted over to Bobby in his wheelchair, who was adamant that he didn’t have anything like what Cas was describing. When Dean looked back at Cas, the angel’s eyes were focused on the necklace hanging from Dean’s neck.
Castiel nodded, holding his hand out. “May I borrow it?”
He flashed back to the moment Sammy had given him the amulet when they were kids. “No!”
“Dean, give it to me.” There was anger in the angel’s eyes, but only for a moment. Then, his features softened as he stepped closer to Dean. “As repayment for you allowing me to borrow it, I will suck on your penis until you achieve orgasm.”
That got Dean’s attention (but not in that way). “Wait, what?” He couldn’t have heard him right. He just couldn’t have.
“I said, I will suck on your penis until you achieve—”
Okay, maybe he had heard him right. “Jesus Cas, no!” He chanced a look at Sam, who was trying his damnedest to not burst into gut-busting laughter. And apparently fighting a losing battle.
Bobby looked about as uncomfortable as Dean had ever seen him, although he was graciously pretending he hadn’t heard anything.
Castiel was still staring at Dean with that head-cocked semi-confused angel thing he always did. He was waiting for an answer. “Here,” he said, slipping the cord over his head and handing it over to the woefully tactless angel.
As soon as the amulet was in Cas’ hands, he said a quick, “Thank you, Dean,” before moving to kneel on the floor.
If it was possible, Dean’s face turned thirty shades redder. “Just take it, Cas! No… repayment… necessary.”
The angel looked like he wanted to argue, but thankfully saw something in Dean’s eyes that made him stand and nod his head. He disappeared with a customary ‘whoosh’ of angel wings.
Dean held up one finger, not daring to look at either Bobby or his brother. “If either one of you mentions this moment again, I will feed you to a hellhound.”
If it was possible, the second time it happened was even more embarrassing. They were on the hunt for Raphael, interrogating the Deputy Sheriff that had witnessed the archangel’s appearance, when Castiel decided to go off the books again.
“Would not have believed my eyes if I hadn’t seen it myself. We’re talking about a riot. Full scale,” the man explained.
Dean tried to imagine the scene that was being described. “How many?”
“Thirty or forty,” the Deputy answered. “In all out kill-or-be-killed combat.”
“Any idea what set them off?”
Before the Deputy could reply, Castiel spoke up from beside Dean. “It’s angels and demons, probably.” Fuck, Dean thought, watching the other man stare at Cas in confusion. “They’re skirmishing all over the globe.”
“Come again?” the Deputy asked.
The angel’s head tilted and Dean felt a sudden panic rush through him, but it was too late to stop Cas’ words. “Would you like to? I will happily suck on your penis until you… ‘come again.’”
Angry eyes looked immediately at Dean. “What did he just say?”
Shit. This again. “I’m sorry, Deputy, my partner isn’t feeling well. Maybe we could hurry this along? Did anything unusual happen after the riot?”
Castiel leaned closer to Dean, lowering his voice as he stated, “I feel fine, Dean. I’m more than capable of bringing the Deputy to completion—”
Was there a manual on getting an angel to shut up? Because if there was, Dean needed it immediately. He stared at Cas. “Why don’t you go wait in the car, buddy? I can take it from here.”
After a moment of skepticism, Castiel nodded his head and stood up to leave. It took Dean another ten minutes of pure bullshit to convince the Deputy that his partner had been battling some kind of head cold that made him say inappropriate things. When he finally got back out to the car, the location of Raphael’s whereabouts tucked into his pocket, he glared at Cas.
The angel was sitting innocently in the passenger seat, looking like he hadn’t said or done anything out of the ordinary. Dean stared at the Impala’s steering wheel for a moment, before turning to Castiel. “Cas, you can’t… you can’t just offer to give someone a blowjob in the middle of a conversation.”
“Why not?” Castiel’s brows furrowed together, as though he were working out a complex problem. “It’s what I want to do, so shouldn’t I be honest and direct in communicating as such?”
“Um,” Dean began, and he couldn’t believe he had to have this conversation at all, let alone with an Angel of the Lord. “Not when it’s that, okay Cas?”
Castiel’s reply was nothing more than a blank stare.
Dean sighed. He knew his life was weird, but did it have to be this weird? “You’ve just got to wait, okay?”
“Yeah. Until you know the person. Or buy them a drink! Damn it Cas, where is this even coming from?”
“You know what, I don’t want to know. Just, cut it out, okay?”
Castiel remained silent for a moment, considering his next words. “I’m sorry if I’ve done anything to upset you, Dean,” he said, looking down at his knees. “It was not my intent.”
“It’s okay, Cas,” Dean said, letting his hands relax on the steering wheel.
“Because if I did upset you, perhaps I could—”
And there was no way Dean was letting Castiel finish that sentence. “Damn it, Cas!”
In the months that followed, the lack of blowjob mentions put Dean into a happy, oblivious bubble. He was so oblivious that when Castiel brought it up for the third time, it was all he could do to sit and stare in shock. They were in a bar, waiting for the arrival of a cupid of all things, when suddenly Castiel vanished from his seat next to Sam.
Dean gave his brother a look of utter confusion, because they were in the middle of something and Damn it, Cas. Unfortunately that was right about the moment that he felt deft fingers unhooking his pants and the words ‘Damn it, Cas’ had a whole new meaning.
Panic and embarrassment set in as Dean tried to figure out whether it was worth it to say something out loud in front of Sam, or if he could get away with shoving the angel off of him and running for the bathroom. Castiel, the speedy fucker, had his cock free before Dean could figure out a proper course of action.
His head fell back against the booth and he bit down on his bottom lip as Castiel wrapped hot, strong fingers around his dick. He wasn’t hard, but he could already feel an erection begin to twitch into existence at the first ghost of breath against his skin. Castiel took him into his mouth fully and he hummed delightedly when Dean began to harden against his tongue. Dean was torn—on the one hand he was getting his dick sucked. On the other hand, it was Cas. Cas who’d been acting really strangely lately. Cas who was his friend.
Sam quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at his brother. “Dean, are you alright? What—”
“I’M FINE SAM EVERYTHING’S FINE!” So much for playing it cool, Dean thought to himself.
“Really? ‘Cause you kind of look like you’re in pain.”
Meanwhile Castiel was succeeding in getting Dean more and more worked up. His dick was almost completely in the game now, but this was so incredibly not the time or the place. He tried smacking at Cas’ side, anywhere, to get him to ‘shoo’ without drawing Sam’s attention.
It didn’t work.
Castiel must have been very focused on what he was doing, because when Dean landed a not-so-feather-light smack against the side of his head he jumped, knocking the table, and very definitely letting Sam know something was going on. Frown knitting his eyebrows, Sam leaned to the left so that he could look beneath the table.
“What the—Cas?” Always the brainiac, it didn’t take Sam long to put two and two together. “Dean, what is he—” It took only a second before he was sitting back up, spine straight and face a mask of embarrassment. “Is he sucking you off?”
Dean threw up his hands in self-defense, trying to put on his best don’t-look-at-me-I’m-innocent face—not an easy feat, all things considering. “He just came out of nowhere!”
“Dude, you two can get up to whatever you want to behind closed doors but if you haven’t noticed, we’re on a case!”
Dean was fully hard and trying his damndest to not think about how goddamned good Castiel was with his tongue. But enough was a enough. “Damn it Cas, get off!” Dean growled as he pushed against Cas’ shoulders a little harder than intended.
Castiel pulled off with a wet ‘pop’ and Dean winced at how loud the sound was. “But Dean,” he protested, his voice inhumanly even for having been interrupted mid-blowjob, “I found the cupid.”
Dean resisted a very strong urge to thump his head against the table top. “And you couldn’t have just told us that?”
With a soft fluttering noise and a movement perhaps too swift for human eyes, Castiel stood next to the table. His expression was serious. “I just did.”
Dean angrily began stuffing his saliva-slick hard-on back into his jeans, willing the unsexiest images he could think of into his head. “We’re talking to that damn cupid,” he barked, getting to his feet and pointing a finger right at Castiel’s chest, “and then I’m getting to the bottom of whatever the hell is up with you.”
It didn’t take long for the three of them to figure out that the town they were in was suffering the effects of Famine—well, mostly it was Castiel who’d figured it out. But considering the angel explained what was going on while kneeling in front of Dean and whimpering… yeah, Dean wasn’t going to dwell on that.
The fact that Jimmy Novak had a blowjob fetish was apparently to blame for Castiel’s lack of inhibitions. However, even if it explained Cas’ reaction to Famine, it didn’t explain the weeks prior when he had first begun offering his services at every opportunity he could find.
Now, with Sam out of commission thanks to a hunger for demon blood, Dean was stuck in the Impala with Castiel, Blowjob King of the Lord.
It took a whopping five minutes before Cas got a glint in his eye and leaned over Dean’s lap, fingers already working to undo his jeans. “Damn it, Cas.” He grabbed onto the angel by the collar of his shirt and hauled him back into place in the seat. “Stop it! I know you’re under some horseman voodoo bullshit, but we’re on a stakeout here, you can’t blow me right now!”
“But Dean—” Castiel pouted, still trying to reach for Dean’s pants. “You have to let me. Please.”
Before Dean could continue arguing why it was not an appropriate time for blowjobs, he spotted Famine’s demon goony walking out of the morgue carrying another black briefcase. “Showtime.”
They followed behind the demon, who lead them directly to a Biggerson’s location that looked deserted. Except for the large black SUVs parked outside, that was.
Parking the car across the street, Dean shut off the Impala and finally turned to Castiel. “Okay so what’s our—” He stopped, staring in shock at the sight before him. Since he had been denied Dean’s cock, Cas had apparently taken it upon himself to attempt to suck his own cock.
Dean tilted his head, watching in fascination as Cas curled in on himself and sucked at the tip of his dick. Which was amazing. And distracting.
Coughing, Dean tried to pull his attention back to what they were supposed to be doing. “Cas! Come on, man, we have to focus here.”
It took a couple of minutes, but finally the angel focused, pulling himself away from the self-fellatio and turning to face the hunter. “Yes, Dean?”
“Tuck yourself away, man, we’re here. What’s the plan?”
As Castiel put his dick away, he looked out the window and stared across to the restaurant. “Yes, Famine is in there. I’ll go in and grab his ring.”
“Wait, Cas—” Before Dean could argue, the angel was already gone. “Fuck!” He looked back to the restaurant, waiting a couple of minutes to see what would happen. When Castiel didn’t reappear, he shook his head and opened the car door. “This is taking too long.”
Shotgun in hand, he moved around to the back door of the joint and quietly creeped inside. He tried not to gag when he saw a cook hanging halfway out of a fryer—yeah, that was gross. Shaking it off, he stepped past and finally noticed Castiel through the open order window. The angel was kneeling on the floor in front of a suit-clad demon.
Fuck. His first thought was that Castiel was hurt, but then he noticed the demon brushing his fingers through Cas’ hair and shifting slightly against his head.
Apparently they had graduated to sucking off bad guys.
He didn’t have time to call out to Castiel though—not that he thought it would work—as he was soon wrapped up in battling the rest of Famine’s henchmen.
Through the resulting fight with the horseman, Castiel continued sucking off his new demon boyfriend until finally the ring was sliced off and he sat back, looking around in a haze. Dean rolled his eyes. They had bigger issues to worry about.
Hours later they stood outside the panic room. Dean could hear his brother screaming as he battled the withdrawal from demon blood. He took a long swallow of whiskey and ignored the excuses Castiel was trying to give. Of course it wasn’t really Sam in there, but that didn’t make things better.
Finally, he turned to leave. “I just need to get some air.”
Minutes later he was standing outside of Bobby’s house, leaning against a rusty junker car. He let the night air fill his lungs, his head beginning to clear for the first time in what felt like days. Shit was still going to go down, but it looked as if they might just have a reprieve. Sam would be alright soon enough. For the moment, Dean could breathe. He didn’t even flinch at the familiar sound of wings fluttering to his side.
He turned to Castiel and forced a smile. “Hey, Cas.”
“Hello, Dean.” The angel let his eyes burn into Dean, searching.
Dean felt exposed under the gaze, and he found he didn’t mind it so much. He toed at the dirt, keeping his eyes on anything but the angel at his side. Something turned over in his stomach, but it wasn’t bad. He felt awkward for what he was about to say, but someone very close to him had recently tried to teach him the merits of being direct, and he was damned if he was going to let this slide. He swallowed back his nerves before meeting Castiel’s eyes. “So, is there any way I could take you up on that… blowjob offer?”
For once, the angel seemed to sense Dean’s need to escape from present events. Castiel stepped forward and laid his hand softly on Dean’s arm. “Of course, Dean.”