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Castiel eyes Dean from across the crowded strip club. He used to hate these places. They reeked of sin, impurity, and infidelity—everything that was unholy. Now, though, Castiel can see why humans flock to these places: to forget.
Dean wants to forget tonight. It’s all he’s wanted since he—well. You know. Turned into a demon and all that jazz. If he was being honest with himself—and let’s be honest, he isn’t—he’d say that he was tired. God, help him he was so tired.
His life—or, lack thereof—has been nothing but sex, booze, and running. Sure, being on the run from Sam and Cas keeps him on his feet, but even for Dean Winchester, it gets boring. Real fast.
So tonight, all Dean wants is to forget—his problems, his feelings, his brother…and Cas. All of it.
Castiel watches as Dean downs the rest of his whiskey from his glass before slamming it down onto the counter. It cracks, but doesn’t shatter. Dean shoves some poor frat boy from his seat in the front of the stage, and sits down. The look Dean gives him is enough to send the boy and his friends the other way.
The music is loud, but not loud enough to drown Castiel’s thoughts. He almost wishes it was. He likes to forget, too, sometimes.
Castiel stays in the back of the crowd as scantily dressed women saunter down the stage. He sees Dean spread his legs and rest his hands on his thighs. Castiel knows it won’t be long before Dean is walking back to his motel room with some busty blonde woman on his arm. Maybe two.
Dean pulls out a wad of singles from his back pocket and goes up to the stage. Something in Castiel seethes. Dean sticks nearly half the wad of cash into a dancer’s panties, and briefly Castiel wonders how unsanitary that is. Dean sits back down.
The song that plays is one Castiel recognizes from one of Dean’s cassette tapes—an Eagles song about heartbreak.
“Can I buy you a drink?” someone asks Castiel. Or, rather, yells over the loud music.
Castiel looks around, as if to make sure he’s the one being talked to. Yelled to. Whatever.
The man gives Castiel a little nudge to the shoulder to confirm that, yes, he is talking to Cas. For a moment, Castiel thinks about saying yes. He really, really thinks about it. Wants it, even. But in the end, he declines. Cas came here to watch over Dean and that precedes everything else, even his own pleasure.
The gentleman looks a bit disappointed, but understands. He slaps Cas on the shoulder before walking away. Castiel keeps his gaze on Dean, regretfully.
Regretfully, because there is a woman, nearly naked, rubbing herself on Dean’s lap and Castiel bites his lip so hard that it bleeds. The woman grabs Dean’s hands and places them on her breasts, moaning, and somehow that’s all Castiel can hear and it angers him like nothing ever has.
He grits his teeth as he sees Dean walk out the door with her on his arm five minutes later. She’s wearing his jacket and hell if that doesn’t make Cas angrier. Cas follows them at a safe distance as they walk to Dean’s motel room. Dean kisses her as he fumbles with the keys to the room. Castiel stands behind the woman, and he’s the first thing Dean sees when he opens his eyes to fit the key in the lock.
“Hello, Dean.”
The woman whips around, clinging to Dean as if she’s going to get robbed and he will be the one to protect her.
“What are you doing here,” says Dean, and it comes out as more of a statement than a question. Dean’s eyes turn black when he blinks and Castiel gives him a Look. Dean knows he’s not banging this chick tonight.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Raincheck.”
Dean pushes her out of the way, gently, but hard enough for her to know she’s not wanted right now. She huffs and walks off in the direction of the club. She takes Dean’s jacket with her.
Dean opens the door to his motel room and slams it shut once he’s inside. Castiel zaps himself inside the room, too angry to be upset about Dean not holding the door open for him.
“So—what? Sammy send you to babysit me?” Dean walks over to minibar and drinks whatever the hell is left. It’s cheap, but it’s something.
“No.”
“Then what?” Dean wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You jealous or somethin’, hot wings?”
When Dean turns around, Castiel is right in front of him, arms on either side of Dean, boxing him in.
“Don’t call me that.”
Castiel surges forward, kissing Dean hard. It should give him relief but it doesn’t—it doesn’t and it feels so wrong to kiss him under these circumstances.
But he kisses him anyway.
Dean moans into Cas’s mouth and he tastes like vodka. Cas grips Dean by his hair and Dean cants his hips toward the angel. Castiel sucks a bruise onto Dean’s neck, tongue tasting sweat and sulfur. He pushes his hands underneath Dean’s shirt and proceeds to take it off. Dean doesn’t protest.
Dean pushes Castiel back a few steps before grabbing him by his coat lapels and kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip. Dean shoves Cas’s coat and suit jacket off his shoulders before loosening his tie. Cas palms Dean through his jeans and Dean whimpers. He reaches to undo Cas’s fly but Cas pushes him onto the motel bed; he pushes Dean so hard that he bounces a little when he lands on top of the comforter.
Dean lies back on his elbows and watches as Castiel undresses the rest of the way. For a moment, Castiel stands at the foot of the bed, naked, and staring at Dean. Dean eyes him up and down, licks his lips when his gaze lingers on Castiel’s cock.
Castiel grips his cock and strokes it slowly, sighing, his head tipping back, eyes closed. He spits in his hand and strokes it again, rubbing his thumb over the head, moaning. It’s been so long since he’s done this that he’s forgotten how good it feels.
Dean bites his lip, rubbing himself hard and slow through his jeans. He unzips his fly and shimmies out of both his jeans and boxers. When Cas opens his eyes, Dean is lying back against the pillows and stroking his cock, thrusting into his fist.
Castiel climbs onto the bed, on top of Dean, and holds Dean’s hands above his head. Cas kisses Dean and it’s sloppy and wet and hot and fuck if Dean can’t get enough of it. Cas swallows his moans, grinds his hips against Dean’s, their cocks rubbing against each other deliciously.
“Fuck,” breathes Dean. “Fuck.”
Cas breathes heavily as he mouths at Dean’s nipples, grazes them with his teeth, sucks on them with such vigor that Dean arches his back and curses.
Cas reaches a hand down between them and strokes their cocks together. Dean nearly shakes with the pleasure of it.
“Fuck, you gonna fuck me, Cas?” asks Dean wantonly, nipping at Cas’s ear.
Castiel growls and moves down to take Dean’s cock in his mouth. Dean groans—Cas’s mouth feel so good—so hot and wet and absolutely obscene. And just when Dean thinks he’s going to come, Cas pulls off with a wet pop and reaches into Dean’s duffle on the side of the bed. Castiel fumbles around for the bottle he’s searching for. When he find it, Dean is stroking his cock, the wet sound of it all Castiel can hear.
When Dean hears the sound of the bottle opening, he spreads his legs out of habit. Like Pavlov’s fuckin’ dog.
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk out of this motel,” growls Cas. Dean moans as he feels Cas’s finger prod at his entrance.
Castiel opens him up slowly, agonizingly so; Dean whimpers and Cas’s breaths come out heavier.
“I saw you tonight,” he says to Dean. “I saw that woman grinding herself on you and it made me jealous.” Dean laughs at this, laughs until his laughs turn into moans when Cas’s fingers reach his prostate. “The only one who’s going to be grinding on you is me. Understand?”
Dean nods wordlessly and pushes back on Cas’s fingers, wanting more, wanting to be filled—
“I’m going to fuck you now, Dean,” is all the warning Dean gets before he feels Cas’s cock inside him. The two of them moan as Cas bottoms out, the slick sound of skin against skin the only sound in the room. Cas sets a brutal pace and Dean absolutely loves it. He can’t get enough of it.
“Fuck, Cas—so good—so big—”
“Do I fill you up, Dean? Do I fill you up well?”
“Yes—god, yes—Cas—”
Castiel fucks Dean into the mattress, so much so that Dean is sobbing with the pleasure of it. He fists his own cock hard and sloppy as Cas fucks into him.
“Fuck, Cas—your cock—ngh—so good—”
Castiel pulls out and says, “Turn over.” Dean has never turned over so fast in his fucking life. He lifts his hips up, ass in the air, ready for Cas like he hasn’t been ready for anyone else. Castiel slaps his ass and Dean lets out the most gorgeous moan Cas has ever heard and fuck if he doesn’t want to hear it again. Cas slaps him again and again until Dean’s ass is cherry red; still, Dean holds his ass up like he’s waiting for more.
Cas lines up his cock and fucks Dean hard and fast, the motel bed headboard hitting the wall. Cas leans over Dean, ignoring his whimpers and moans and cries and says, “You like it when I fuck you? You like my cock, Dean?”
What Dean lets out is a mix between a yes and a moan and a sob. He pushes back, meeting Cas’s thrusts with his own. Dean moans into the pillows.
Castiel pulls out and turns Dean onto his back.
“I want to see you—” breathes Cas, “—I want to see you as you come on my cock, Dean.” Cas fucks into Dean, rubbing and pinching his nipples and Dean tosses his head from side to side in ecstasy. “Are you gonna come on my cock?”
“Yes—ngh—fuck, Cas, yes—”
“Damn right you are,” growls Cas.
“F-fuck me—fuck me so hard I—I won’t be able to walk for a week—”
Castiel jacks Dean off and Dean comes so hard that it lands on his chin. Castiel leans down and licks it off Dean’s neck, sucking another bruise before kissing Dean, sucking on his tongue and swallowing his moans.
Castiel comes with a bite on Dean’s shoulder, a bite so hard that it draws blood. Dean comes again, if only a little. Cas fucks Dean’s hole through his own orgasm and pulls out. Cas watches, mesmerized, as his come drips out of Dean. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.
Cas collapses on top of Dean, and Dean relishes in the feeling of another body on top of his. Cas’s hand dangles off the side of the bed, reaches for something inside his coat pocket.
“Fuck, Cas, if I knew you fucked like that we woulda done this a lot sooner.”
In one swift move, Castiel handcuffs Dean, mojo-ing them clean and their clothes on.
“What the fuck—”
Castiel pays Dean no attention as he holds his cell phone to his ear. It rings for a while, but Sam picks up eventually.
“I’m bringing him home, Sam,” is all Cas says before hanging up.
“Y’know, Cas, usually the handcuffs go on before you have sex—”
Castiel ties Dean up—not the sexy way, though he isn’t opposed to doing that later—and for good measure puts him in the trunk of the impala where he knows Dean won’t be able to escape before they reach the bunker. Demon handcuffs be damned.