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It all started when Sam told Dean, “You can go ahead and get going...”
The Winchester brothers sat across from each other at the table in their motel room, surrounded by now cold and half-eaten takeout food. It had been a tad difficult to stomach their dinners considering the nature of the case file they were debriefing. A young couple was found dead, after their first and last date. The sight of what remained of their bodies was still etched into Dean’s mind. According to the report, they started taking bites out of each other, and they just kept going until their stomachs were full. The coroner said it was unclear whether the initial cause of death was the blood loss or the rupturing of their stomachs from the amount of flesh they managed to consume. Regardless, reading over the details of the case made Dean’s double cheeseburger suddenly much less appetizing.
The boys were still wearing the remnants of their best ‘FBI’ getups, Dean had ditched the jacket, loosened his tie, and had his feet resting on the table. He was still combing through case files trying to make sense of what could have happened. His train of thought was completely derailed when Sam suggested that he head out.
“Sorry?” Dean sought clarification. He let his feet fall back to the floor and leaned forward.
Sam half smiled, “Go ahead…. Unleash the Kraken ” He lowered his voice to add a sense of grandeur before quickly offering, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Sam went back to scrolling on his laptop, thinking the conversation was over. He was surprised to hear Dean respond with another question, “...and where am I going?”
Sam lifted his eyes off the screen, “Dean…it's Valentine's Day. Your favorite holiday…remember?”. Slightly incredulous at the idea that his brother didn’t know the date, “ I mean, what do you always call it…erm…” Sam had to take a moment to remember his brother's ridiculous name for the day. “Oh- an unattached drifter’s christmas.” He eventually recalled.
“Oh yeah,” Dean nodded as he pushed himself up from the table and headed to the cooler across the room. He opened it and quickly pulled out a beer, remarking, “...I don't know. I guess I'm just not feeling it this year,” while cracking it open.
“Wait,” Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “So… you're not into bars full of lonely women?”
Dean let that sink in for a moment. Now that he thought of it, he hadn’t really been thinking about women much lately. There was Jo–it had only been a few months since her passing, and thoughts of her crossed his mind from time to time– but Dean worked hard to shut them out as quickly as they came in.
Then, of course, there was also the whole apocalypse debacle. Lucifer rising, Michael wanting Dean’s meat suit, the end of humanity as they knew it... It was all a lot for one man to take in. Angels and demons were one thing– but God and the Devil? Crazy, ludicrous even. They were in over their heads, and they knew it.
Their only saving grace was Castiel.
Castiel .
Now, that was something that had been on Dean’s mind a lot lately. The angel. His friend. The relationship he had with Castiel was unspeakably special to him. After all, Dean had pretty much never had a friend outside of Sam, and most of the time, he and Sam weren’t even exactly friends. It’s hard to simultaneously be someone's friend and big brother—it's kind of a one-or-the-other type of deal.
But Castiel? Castiel was a nice change of pace, perhaps this whole friend thing is why Dean wasn’t really digging the idea of random hookups. Or at least he told himself that.
He shrugged then took a swig of his beer, simply stating. “Nah- I guess I’m not.”
For the last twenty-some-odd years, Sam had grown to expect to be ditched on February 14th. He was accustomed to being left alone in the evening as Dean chased whatever romantic endeavor he was pursuing at the moment. To hear that he hadn’t even considered today’s date or its implications? That was concerning. When a dog doesn't eat, you know something's really wrong…
The following day, the boys ended up swinging by the coroner's office to get another look at the victim's remains. There had been another mutual suicide between a young couple, and they had reason to believe it was connected to their case.
The Winchester brothers, who were currently not the Winchester brothers at all, but instead once again ‘federal agents’, found themselves going through bins of dismembered body parts. They had the sleeves of their white dress shirts rolled up past their elbows and wore rubber gloves and plastic aprons.
Sam sifted through different vital organs, analyzing each one carefully for signs of supernatural interference as Dean slightly hindered progress with his typical tomfoolery (or as Sam would describe it, dickassery).
Dean had pushed a heart towards Sam while rambling off a particularly bad pun. Sam rolled his eyes, but then suddenly noticed something. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second.” Sam said looking down at the heart.
He pulled another evidence box with a heart towards him, “Look– the hearts both have identical marks. Check this out. It looks like some kind of letter”
Dean leaned in and looked at the small white scarring as Sam injected again “--I think it's Enochian.”
Enochian.
That word sparked a warmth within him. Enochian—like angels, like Castiel . Despite angels generally being massive pains in the ass to deal with, Dean found himself suddenly relieved that this development provided ample reason to recruit Castiel for this case, pulling him from his wild goose chase for God.
With a swift motion, he tore off his rubber glove and reached for his phone. His fingers instinctively found their way to speed dial #3. The 1 key belonged to Sam, the 2 key to Bobby, and the 3 key—his newest addition—belonged to Castiel.
It only had to ring once before the angel picked up. Dean loved that about their communication–the immediate response, the unwavering willingness to drop everything and immediately respond. It was nice to be cared for in that way. Nice to, well… have an angel on his shoulder.
“Cas,” he started. He knew to keep it quick; they weren’t the type to jibber-jabber over semantics on the phone. Just the address.
“Room 31-C, basement level, St. James Medical Center,” was all he said.
“I'm there now,” Castiel announced, suddenly appearing only about a foot in front of Dean.
The angel truly struggled with the human concept of personal space. He was so close that Dean could feel his breath.
A beat of silence. Dean looked him up and down. “Yeah, I see that.”
Castiel remained steadfastly staring as he said, “I'm gonna hang up now,” the statement echoed with cellular feedback.
Dean gave the angel another once-over—something was different, something felt different. As the two stood there with their phones still lifted to their ears, it felt like time had stopped. Suddenly, Sam’s presence didn’t matter, the arsenal of body parts splayed out on the table didn’t matter; only the figure before him held Dean's attention. He felt the familiar yet exhilarating sensation that always accompanied Castiel's presence wash over him, a mix of nervousness and catharsis that he couldn't quite explain- except for this time, it was amplified.
He didn’t know what was going on with this case, but he knew it was comforting to know Castiel had joined the Team.
The following day had been… weird. More and more people were dropping dead from overdoses and other self-inflicted deaths. One man even gorged himself to death on Twinkies, using a toilet brush to ram the pastries down his throat. It turned out that Famine- as in the horseman- was behind all of it. The town was suffering from starvation, and all of the occupants were slowly but surely giving into their deepest desires and vices.
The coroner, who had been sober for 20 years, went home and drank himself to death. Castiel’s vessel, Jimmy, was craving food, red meat specifically, causing the angel to develop such an insatiable appetite for burgers that it was borderline debilitating. And Sam? Sam's thirst for demon blood returned, and it took every ounce of self-discipline to resist succumbing to those desires.
Everyone except for Dean seemed to have been ravenous.
Seemed .
Dean too found himself afflicted, but he fought tooth and nail against his own cravings, though they were growing more relentless by the hour. Castiel— it was Castiel, he knew it deep down. What started as subtle urges and intrusive thoughts escalated into intense desires, tempting him to abandon restraint and give in to the overwhelming urge to rip off his clothing and lose himself in the angel's embrace.
He tried his absolute best to conceal it, to push it down deep within himself. The method had been flawlessly effective for the past year; he had become an expert at displaying restraint, honing his skill every time the angel was in his presence. But now, with the intensity of his yearning escalating, Dean found it increasingly difficult to maintain the facade of control he had grown accustomed to dawning when needed.
Sam’s crisis over being a demon-blood junkie had also reached a point of no return. Dean ended up having to handcuff him to the bathroom sink and decided that the best course of action was to face Famine alone, knowing that Sam would not be able to resist blood if given the opportunity.
Well not alone, alone with Castiel- which was pretty much the most disastrous setup he could imagine. But he couldn't face an honest-to-god horseman alone, especially not without his brother. He knew he needed the backup.
Castiel and Dean found themselves sitting in the impala, staking out the restaurant Famine was hiding in. The night was dark, and the city eerily calm, the only noise to be heard was the crinkling of Castiel’s fast food packaging as he unwrapped another burger and began gorging it down.
“Are you serious?” Dean said eyeing the burger.
“These make me…” the angel smiled, looking down at the sandwich in his hand, “...very happy.”
“How many is that?”
“I lost count. It's in the low hundreds.” Castiel said dismissively, before continuing, “What I don't understand is...where is your hunger, Dean?”
Dean felt a familiar heat rise to his face “...Huh?”
“Well, slowly but surely, everyone in this town is falling prey to Famine, but so far, you seem unaffected,” Castiel observed, placing the remnants of his fast food on the dash.
Dean clicked his tongue and thought for a moment before quickly reasoning, “Hey, when I want to drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. The same goes for a sandwich or a fight.”
They sat in silence, Castiel thinking that explanation over. He shifted his body in his seat to face the eldest Winchester. “No, really … what is your hunger?” The angel said it as if he already knew the answer.
“Dean, I am of the second highest class in the angelic choir, I can tell when I am being lied to by a human.”
“So now you’re some kind of walking lie detector?” Dean quipped.
“No-” Castiel paused and sniffed- “but I am more observant than a human. I can smell the stress hormones in the blood and I can hear a heart rate- and I know when you’re lying to me. Take now for an example,” Castiel stared straight at the hunter, patiently awaiting a response.
Dean didn’t know what to say, even if he could manage to string together a sentence, his thoughts were becoming nearly incoherent.
“Dean- if we are about to go head to head with a horseman, the least I deserve is to know what weakness might impair you.” Castiel pushed.
Dean's brow furrowed and he tried his best to swallow a lump in his throat that wouldn’t go down.
“Like I said, I just don’t- erm- I don’t-” He struggled to think of something.
Dean found himself preoccupied with fending off a myriad of clichés. The feeling of nervousness swelled in his stomach, his heart was banging like a doldrum in his chest, and goosebumps raced down his arms— the whole nine yards. Castiel's piercing blue eyes were locked onto him, and it felt like they bore daggers into his soul.
“It’s a sexual need- Isn’t it?” Castiel offered the still stammering Dean.
“Huh-what makes you- what makes you think that?” He struggled to form a clear response.
“Well, for starters….” Castiel looked down at the hunter's Jeans, now tented in excitement, “I can also smell that.”
Dean shifted, trying his best to conceal the erection now evident, not that it mattered much though… the angel had already called him out.
“What I don’t understand is how you’ve exhibited such restraint- something like that would require so much practice, so much willpower…” Castiel scanned the hunter trying to figure out his secret. “Unless that is…” he trailed off.
Dean still sat there silent, partially mortified, partially unbelievably turned on.
Castiel had a new look on his face- it was one that Dean had never seen the angel make before, somewhere between mischievous and amused.
“You know,” Castiel said hesitantly as if he were afraid to say the wrong thing, “It is completely normal, expected even, for you to experience a draw to me of every capacity. Our very beings are bound together, they have been ever since I raised you.”
Usually, Dean would have been mortified even at the slightest insinuation. But at this moment? He felt completely powerless, unable to control the overwhelming surge of emotions within him. He found it challenging to keep his hands from reaching out to the angel, let alone gather the mental focus required to deflect and weave out of the conversation, as he would normally do.
“Cas…” Dean eventually said softly, “we have work to do,” Dean said gesturing back towards the restaurant.
“You will be of no use if you are- erm- waiting to be relieved . We need to take care of this immediately, and then you should have a window- albeit small- of focus afterward.”
“Are you- are you really suggesting that I need to go in there charged up on friggen post-nut clarity?”
“That’s one way to word it,” Castiel said and began shimmying off his trenchcoat. “So, how can I be of assistance?” He asked as if it were the most normal question on earth.
“Assistance?” Dean echoed and cleared his throat. The part of him that normally would be making jokes was pushed down somewhere deep down and the overwhelming feeling of lust washed over him. He watched the angel slowly loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves. It was a bit of a ridiculous sight to watch unfold- he looked like he was preparing to work on a car.
“Look,” Castiel had suddenly taken on such an authoritative demeanor, treating this more like a medical procedure than a proposed hand whore situation, “That’s Famine in there. As in The Famine . You know, from the bible and all? I need you to be as focused as possible when we move in if you want to have a chance at escaping with our lives.”
Dean was still resisting his urges but he was slowly losing the battle, he found himself practically squirming in his seat.
Castiel then did something completely unexpected, He leaned in, went next to Dean’s ear, and whispered, “No one will have to know, it will be our secret.” his hot breath on Dean's neck.
Dean let out an almost pathetic whine and Castiel followed up with, “Even better– It can be my secret if you want. I can erase any memory of it ever happening– if you think that will help.”
That was all he needed, if Dean knew he wouldn’t even remember it, it was practically like it never happened.
“Ok,” Dean finally choked out.
“I’ve always wanted to try this with a human-” Castiel admitted before placing soft kisses on Dean’s neck.
The only thought racing through Dean’s mind was something along the lines of Holy shit Castiel angel of the fucking lord is kissing me .
Cas slowly and gently worked his way up to the hunter's lips and pulled him into a fast and hard series of much more needy kisses.
Dean felt the need to pull away, kissing wasn’t something to be done with another dude. But as Cas drew him in for more long breathless kisses, he felt his defense systems come crashing down. In the moment, all he could think was how soft the angel’s lips were, and how nice they felt locking and breaking and locking again with his. Castiel’s stubble caused a light friction between their faces that felt absolutely electric.
“When the hell did you learn how to kiss like that?” Dean said once the connection finally broke.
“I have been researching the intricacies of human vessels, just in case the occasion were ever to arise… I suspect you find the kissing pleasurable?” He asked earnestly.
“Yeah, I would say so,” Dean said focusing on ' in case the occasion were ever to arise' - what did he mean by that? Before he could dwell on it for too long his train of thought was derailed-
“So,” Castiel said settling back in his side of the seat, “I’ll ask again, how can I be of assistance?”
Dean gulped, completely unsure what to say… and then Castiel suddenly vanished.
Dean blinked a few times over at the passenger seat, dumbfounded by the angel's unexpected departure. He was still shakily breathing, trying to piece together what had just happened when he heard the driver's side door open.
His head whipped to the left and he saw that Castiel was now standing outside the car. The angel grabbed Dean by the arm- pulling him out of the car and saying “As much as I truly wish we could savor this moment, we still have pressing matters to attend to.”
Dean’s mind was struggling to keep up to speed with the series of events unfolding. His heart was pounding in his head as Castiel clashed his lips against him once more, pinning Dean to the side of the impala.
And there it was- once again he found his head screaming because he was locking lips with the angel- and it felt so so good. He felt his manhood get even harder, which seemed impossible, and he let out a small noise of desperation.
Castiel smiled and pulled away after hearing that sound, “Vocalization is very good- do I have permission to undress you?”
Without a moment of hesitation, Dean nodded eagerly, and Castiel looked him up and down before snapping his fingers. In a fraction of a second, all of Dean’s clothing disappeared, leaving him completely naked.
The street was unoccupied. But that didn’t change the fact that he now also had the thrill of being buck naked in the middle of public coursing through him. His bare skin glistened, illuminated by only the moon and the sparse streetlamps. Dean felt so unbelievably exposed like he should be ducking for cover. He looked down at his hard-on, and then back up at Castiels impossibly blue eyes.
“I am going to orally stimulate your erection now,” The angel said matter-of-factly.
Dean couldn’t muster the facade of pretending that didn’t sound like the absolute best thing on earth.
Castiel, who for the most part was still fully dressed, knelt down letting his knees hit the pavement.
“Let me know if you find this pleasurable,” and then those damn arms- with his white sleeves still rolled up grabbed Dean by the hips, and pulled the hunter in. He worked his way slowly-methodically even- as he kissed his sides, then his stomach, and then worked around to his very upper thighs, planting wet kisses everywhere except his rock-hard cock.
He paused momentarily and raised his head to lock eyes once more, those impossibly blue eyes looked up at him as he said “This is called foreplay-” as if he were educating Dean.
Castiel angel of the fucking lord is teasing me. “It’s nice-” Dean managed, his penis was pulsating and he was overwhelmed with the desire to be touched there. Never in a million years, did Dean Winchester think he would be on the verge of begging Castiel of all people to give him a knob job.
Maintaining the eye contact, Castiel leaned in and placed one hand firmly on Dean’s shaft. He slowly worked it back and forth a few times before opening his mouth and enveloping it. It was warm, inviting, and Castiels big fucking eyes were still focused on Deans's face- as if he were watching for his reaction.
“Aghhh” Dean let out a yelp of pleasure, and let his head fall back as the angel went back and forth. This entire time he had already been rendered essentially nonverbal, but now his thoughts were so jumbled he barely knew his own name. He felt fuzzy, almost unreal. Nothing in the entire universe mattered more at this moment than Castiel's warm and soft mouth and the indescribable pleasure it was bringing him.
Castiel broke contact for a moment, panting, and used his forearm to wipe at the combination of salvia and other fluids coming from his mouth.
He looked up and said, “Have you ever stimulated your prostate before?” as if it were the most normal question on earth. The kind of nonchalance you would use when asking someone to pass the salt.
“I erm-” Dean could barely register the question as he watched the angel bring a finger up to his own lips, pop it in his mouth, and pull it out slowly.
“I think you will find that it is the most effective way to achieve a meaningful orgasm.” He said bringing his slickened finger closer. He parted the way between Dean’s thighs and slowly started tracing circles around his asshole, all while studying Dean’s face for a reaction.
Dean exhaled a shaky breath as Cas slowly started to edge his way into the hole. He crept slowly, Dean reached down and grabbed ahold of Castiel’s hair, tangling his fingers in the dark curls.
“Pleasurable?” Castiel asked while still slowly entering, now almost knuckle deep.
Dean shook his head and let a small “uh-huh” escape his lips.
Castiel grinned, and now with more force- shoved the rest of the finger in.
They froze there like that for a second.
Holy shit Cas is literally in my ass Dean thought. He also couldn’t help but acknowledge how awkward it felt. He didn’t know what to expect, but it felt just like- there was a finger in his ass.
That was until Cas started wiggling his finger around.
Suddenly- a burst of tingles exploded from the region and crept their way all throughout the hunter's body.
Cas moved the finger slowly as Dean struggled to not yell out. His cock jolted with each motion and Castiel used his other hand to wrap firmly around the shaft.
Dean could not believe the sight he was looking down at, Castiel still crouched- using one hand to finger his ass and the other to start slowly working up and down his dick.
Cas gradually worked up to a rigorous speed, pumping Dean’s dick with untamed intention. He stopped only momentarily, to trace the cockhead with his thumb, circling the sensitive tip covered in precum, before returning to a steady hand job.
Dean writhed as Castiel still teased him with the finger and yanked on his dick.
"Oh my god,” Dean said through an exhale.
“Not god.” Castiel softly corrected him before gripping harder.
Up.Down.Up.Down
“Cas-” Dean said still gripping the angel's hair tightly- and now tugging on it- “CAS,” he said louder absolutely pulling on the curls locked between his fingers.
“I’m— Cas-I’m going to—” Dean panted out.
“Going to ejaculate?” Castiel finished the sentence for him.
“Yes-Yes-Yes-” Dean confirmed.
“Do it where you feel fit.” Castiel encouraged him.
And then it happened. His throbbing dick let out a jet of white cum onto the angel’s chest. The stream sputtered out a few times as Castiel continued working Dean’s dick, slowly winding down in speed.
Ecsaty rushed through Dean, as he struggled to catch his breath and loosened his grip on the angel's hair.
Oh my fucking god. Was all he could keep thinking to himself. He looked down at the angel who had now extracted his finger and ceased pumping. The cum had landed on his shirt and doused his tie.
Castiel stood up, brushing the dirt off of his knees, and waved his hand over his chest. Miraculously, all the evidence was cleaned and his clothes were back to pristine condition.
Dean was still coming down from the euphoria of the moment, attempting to gather his thoughts, when Castiel raised two fingers to his shoulder and lightly pressed. Suddenly- he was cleaned- his body no longer covered in sweat- and he once again was fully clothed. He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.
“Finished?” Castiel asked in his gravelly voice.
“Finished.” Dean echoed affirmatively.
“Ok- we have work to do-” Castiel turned and started making his way towards the restaurant as if nothing happened.
“Wait-” Dean reached out and grabbed the angel’s elbow.
“Oh yes,” Castiel turned back to a still slightly flushed Dean.
He looked the hunter up and down, and Dean felt confused as he noticed what seemed to be a glimmer of sadness cross the angel’s face. His eyebrows creased and his eyes conveyed a look of disappointment.
“I almost forgot-” Castiel muttered in a hushed tone as if he were speaking to himself.
He stepped in close, right back into the hunter’s space, and Dean felt his stomach do another somersault.
This time, Cas planted a singular soft and tender kiss on Dean’s cheek, the intention behind it feeling much more innocent.
“I said it would be my secret…” He whispered, raising two fingers to the hunter’s forehead once more.
And so it was.
Fin.