Archive of Our Own

"How kind of you to grace us with your presence, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean winces, eyes rolling on their own accord, as he sighs, and hangs his head down.

"Apologies, sir, it's completely my mistake, and I apologize severely, there was a traffic jam, I swear, and the cars were inches from bumping into each other, one after the other, right in succession-"

"Fine, fine, stop apologizing, oh, and please limit your use of tautology, it irks me, and follow me now, we've already kept them waiting for ten minutes."

Castiel grunts, and turns away, mumbling something to himself. Probably something about Dean's stupidity.

Fucker. Thinks he's all posh and academically forward with that dumb beige trenchcoat of his, and that stupid, icy glare.

Okay, so Dean may have spent an extra fifteen minutes in the shower, but cut him some slack. Bonnie Tyler was on his playlist, and come on, Dean's only human, and it's not like he's above disrespecting Bonnie by skipping that song.

And well, he's just ten minutes late. It could've been worse, and it's not, but Mr.Castiel-I-graduated-from-Harvard-and-am-a-pretentious-bitch-Novak would rather be eaten alive by a swarm of wasps than forgive someone for a little mistake.

Dean's eyes wander up and down his boss's back, and hey, he won't lie, the guy does finish up good. And thank god he isn't wearing that creepy flasher trenchcoat today.

From the corner of his eye, Dean catches a glimpse of Mr.Evans and his companion.

Okay, important day. Get a grip, Dean.

Right as they're about to enter their client's field of sight, Castiel stops, and turns back to Dean. It's funny how even though he's a solid two inches shorter, he manages to have this fierce intimidation radiating off him.

"You are not going to fuck this up, Winchester. Clear? Speak when spoken to. Think before you speak, I know that's a little hard for you, but try," He taunts, and Dean plasters a straight face on, no matter how bad the urge to strangle Novak pesters him, "-We have been working for three years to close a deal with these clients. And let me remind you what's at stake if we don't close it today. Your job, my position as Head, and thirty million dollars."

Castiel tugs at the lapels of Dean's grey blazer, straightening it, eyes wandering up to adjust his collar, and woah, isn't that a little too... Inappropriate? To fix your employee's clothes like that? Guess they don't teach manners at Harvard. Ooh that's a nice burn, a shame he can't say it out loud.

"I understand, sir, I will be on my best behaviour as a representative of the company."
Dean nods, and his eyes meet Castiel's electric blue ones. Castiel quirks his bottom lip, an impresses expression plastered on his face.

"Someone's a fast learner. I liked that attitude, Winchester, keep it up and you might just end up cracking the jackpot on this deal."

Wow. Uh. Alright? Sure, Castiel has praised Dean several times, sometimes even behind his back, and yes, he may have overreacted when he thought of strangling Castiel, because hey, at least the guy recognizes his effort and potential. Yet, the sudden compliment fuels a gush of self-satisfaction through Dean, and he straightens his posture.

"Lastly, don't speak out of turn. Sit with your back straight, and make eye contact. Use your judgement. Read the room. Alright?"
Castiel says, his blue eyes searching into Dean's for some sort of answer, which Dean provides with a nod, before Castiel steps back, a grin tugging at his lips.

"Of co-"

THUD.

A large force crashing into Dean's back, sends him stumbling, foot tripping over the other, and he grabs the first thing next to him to stable himself.

The first thing happens to be Castiel Novak's blazer.

A button pops off with a loud click.

Yeah. Cool. Cool.

Dean just yanked his boss's blazer to save himself from falling, and also ended up pulling a button off his (presumably) expensive black blazer.

Another wonderful day in the life of Dean Winchester.

Dean doesn't even have to glance up at Castiel. He knows the look on his face, he's already predicted it. In fact, his subconscious must have predicted it the moment Dean's hands flung at Castiel's blazer.

It's the same look Castiel gives Dean when he mixes up monthly reports for the fifth time in a week, or ends up saying something too creative in the meetings (yeah, the company doesn't really care about creative or eco-friendly ideas until it's getting them more money, fucking capitalism, man).

It's this strange way Castiel purses his lips, and his eyes shut for a moment, eyebrows strung together, while his fists clench at his sides.

It's as if he's pushing a gigantic temper down, struggling to keep it inside him.

"Mr. Novak, I am so-"

"Shut up. Just. Shut. Up."

Castiel grits out, and flattens his shirt, glancing at the button on the floor before rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his blazer, a slick idea that draws attention to his navy blue tie rather than the broken button.

Then the man is turning, shoulders stiff and back lean, as he walks towards the clients' table.

However, as soon as Dean takes a step forward, his foot presses onto something, and he withdraws his foot, crouching down to pick up what looks like a tiny black rectangle. It appears to have fallen out of Castiel's pocket. He flips it around and oh- it's a remote?

A remote for what?

Dean stands up, lingering in place for a second, as he studies the remote. There's a power sign, followed by buttons engraved with '2X', '4X', '6X', '8X', '10X', and a large one at the bottom, engraved with 'XX'.

At the very corner of the remote, is a tiny logo, accompanied by a few words.

LushLyf.com.

Hold on a god-damn minute. Dean knows what website that is.

It's a fucking sex toy e-retail website.

And a damn expensive one at that.

Dean's got a few toys of his own, some ropes, some gags, some handcuffs, and they're real good. Have lasted him for years without damaging.

Now the question remains. Why is there a remote in his hand that visibly belongs to a sex toy website? And why, in the name of the Lord, did it just fall out of Castiel Novak, a thirty six year old, snobbish, uptight man's pocket?

In the distance, someone calls his name, and oh shit, Dean just wasted a helluva time standing here studying this remote. He stuffs it in his pocket, and with a deep breath, walks over to the table, where a fat, pink faced, grey-haired man stares at him, a slight smile on his lips.

"Sorry, I asked him to just check one of my mails for the soft copy of the documents, as a precaution. This is Dean Winchester, one of my most promising, most talented employee and team member," Castiel says, and damn, guy's got neat tricks to justify Dean's bullshit, "-He's the one I've brought along, because I just know he's got great potential, and he's a perfect fit for the company. Anyway, Dean?"
Castiel asks, as Dean sits down at the table next to the grey-haired man, right across Castiel.

"Hmm?"

"This is Mr. Evans, and this is his partner, Mr. Moore."

"Oh, sir, good evening. I've actually followed your company for quite a while, and I have to say, your work never fails to amaze me. Thank you so much for flying in tonight, and we're very sorry for the delay. American traffic, y'know."

Dean is really testing it with casualness. Lucky for him, the man next to him, Mr. Evans, laughs.

"Ah, tell me about it, haven't been here a day, and I'm stuck in traffic from the airport to the hotel. It's no worries, son, shall we get this started?"

He says, and claps Dean on the back. Wow, this isn't as hard as Dean was expecting it to be. It's as if a boulder has been lifted off his chest, and he can finally breathe. His eyes meet Castiel's across the table, and the man's lips lift up in a proud grin, meeting Dean's eyes for a brief moment before looking away.

As insane as it sounds, Dean thinks it's pretty hot.

Woah. We promised not to venture into that territory, Dean. Especially not when we're in the middle of what happens to be the most important meeting of our career.

And yet, Dean finds himself drawn to the way Castiel darts his tongue over his pink, fuckable lips before speaking.

Woah-ho, calm down, bro.

Dean reaches into his pocket for his handkerchief, when his hand brushes against the tiny remote next to it.

Hmm.

So it's clear that the remote is obviously for a sex toy. And maybe, there is a slight, the slightest possibility, that Castiel Novak is wearing a sex toy somewhere on his body right at this moment. Now, it could be a cock ring. Could be vibrating nipple clamps. Could be a butt plug. Something that requires motion to stimulate.

Well, guess we'll just have to see for ourselves. 

Castiel raises an eyebrow at Dean, still speaking to the clients, before shifting his gaze onto the documents spread out on the table under them.

With utmost caution, Dean pulls the remote out of his hands, hiding it in his clenched fist, as he shoots a quick glance at the settings. Okay, let's see. 2X at the top. But not extreme top. That's the power button. The buttons under that are just the speed increasing, Dean's smart enough to know that.

If Castiel is wearing some sort of stimulating sex toy, then a change in the speed will make him react.

Oh boy, the sadism of it all.

Dean presses the 2X button.

Right now, he's an eagle, tracking every single moment of his prey.

And yet, Castiel doesn't jerk in the slightest. Not even a slight twitch of his fingers.

Hmm. Interesting. Oh hold on. Maybe... Maybe the setting is already 2X.

Alright then.

This is for the time Castiel took Dean off the project he'd worked his ass off for, instead assigning it to the worst employee Dean knew.

4X.

"... And here you can see the rep-oh-"

The table goes silent.

Castiel gasps. His words hang uncertain in the air.

His face goes pale.

Bingo.

Dean refrains from grinning at the wrecked sight of his boss, putting on the best poker face he can conjure.

"Uh- sorry, I think something bit me-"

Panic builds on his light, tanned face, blue eyes wide and gaping, mouth hung open, and Dean can almost see through his skull, the gears working in his mind.

Winchester 1. Novak 0.

"Right, uhm, sorry, as I was saying- the reports for the first half of the financial year are right here..."

Castiel starts, and woah, he's fine already? Not bad for a thirty six year old man.
As if you aren't in your early thirties already.

Dean lets the speed remain at 4X for the time being. Castiel has moved on with his explanation, and yet, he keeps shifting on his seat. The action doesn't draw the others' attentions, but then again, they're not looking as closely as Dean.

If anything, Dean now knows, for sure, it's a butt plug.

A vibrating butt plug at that.

Castiel's breath turns ragged, and he stutters for a brief second, something Dean has never seen Castiel do, in the entire four years of Dean working under him.

"... Does Mr. Winchester have any opinions on that? I'd love to hear his views as well..."
The man next to Castiel, Mr. Moore says, and his eyes fix onto Dean, a certain accusatory tone to his voice.

"Of course. Dean? Mind sharing with the uhm, masses?"
Castiel asks, and Dean catches his hand slip into his pocket.

Well. Maybe now he knows the remote to his vibrator has vanished. To Castiel, he's simply lost it. But Dean knows better. Knows it's been stolen.

"Right, uh, what aspect do you require my view on? Because so far, Mr. Novak has explained the specifics of it in quite a detailed and convenient manner."

"We'd like to know your view on how the atmosphere at the company quarters is."
Mr. Moore says, his hoarse voice glueing Dean to the spot.

"Oh, the atmosphere... It's quite dynamic. Everybody knows when to socialise, and when to mind their own business. The workforce is creative, always works towards progressing the company. It's light hearted, amiable and quite approachable, if you ask socially, and professionally, there's strict decorum, everybody is aware of their jobs, there's ideas and plans being written down every minute. It's quite a delight."

Mr. Moore nods, quirking his bottom lip at Dean's words.

"Sounds interesting. Seems like Mr. Novak is right, you are a bright young man."

Dean smiles, and his eyes drift over to where Castiel is staring at him. Dean cocks an eyebrow, and Castiel gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing.

"Well, Mr. Novak is quite commendable himself, the way he leads the team. I don't have any complaints against him. Not a single."

A grin tugs at the corner of Dean's lips, and he wets his bottom lip, watching Castiel's eyes drop to track the movement before wandering up to meet Dean's eyes.

"Well, that's an assurance, I'd say. Huh, Novak?"
Mr. Moore claps Castiel on the back with a wide grin, and Castiel winces at the touch, forcing a smile back at Mr. Moore.

Dean's eyes drop down to skim over the reports (he drafted them himself), when something catches his eyes.

It's Castiel's hand. His fingers are digging into the edge of the table, holding on for dear life, as he attempts at paying attention to Mr.Evans.

His bright blue eyes fix onto Mr. Evans with utmost importance, and his lips are turned up in a slight smile, as he nods along to the man's words, nodding and chuckling to show how involved he is.

Hah. As if there isn't a butt plug vibrating right inside his ass this very moment.

Dean grins to himself, and leans forward, on the false pretence of checking a document, as he slips his hand into his pocket, thumb brushing against the buttons on the remote.

The three men are discussing now, and Dean couldn't be less bothered. Ultimately, it all comes down to a yes or no question. Do the clients want to work with Garrison Corps or no? That's it. The meetings is just so Dean and Castiel can butter them up, kiss their ass until they agree to invest more than thirty million dollars in the company, along with a shit ton of their valuable time.

He feels around the remote, until he's sure his thumb is on the third setting.

This is for all the times Castiel has made Dean work overtime while leaving work empty handed himself.

6X.

"Oh-"

Castiel's eyes widen, and this time, he drops the pen in his hand, reaching to check the inside pockets of his blazer, a bead of sweat running down his forehead as his eyes widen, lips parted and eyebrows almost knit.

It's then that it strikes Dean.

This is probably how he looks with a cock in his ass. Not this panicked. But oh, so aroused.

Dean licks his dry lips, gulping as he watches Castiel check his pockets.

"Is something wrong, Mr. Novak?"
Mr. Moore asks, a rising irritation in his voice.

Castiel seems to have picked up on it, and he shakes his head, mumbling a few lousy apologies.

"Sorry, I just uh, I thought I left my cellphone back in the cab, but uh, it's right here, very silly of me, sorry, you were saying?"

A shiver runs down his body, and because Dean is watching his every little move, his eyes meet Castiel's the moment Castiel turns to him.

Shit, he probably thinks Dean is staring at him.

Castiel's eyes drop down to Dean's lips, and linger there for a moment, before moving lower- woah- is Castiel checking Dean out?

Jesus, he must be horny as hell to stoop that low. Well, whatever floats your boat.

And well, truth be told, it's not the first time Dean's thought of his boss out of his loose, shapeless beige trenchcoat, and out of those constricting suits he wears everyday, a tie around his wrists, spread out naked on the desk like a whole buffet.

Dean simply never had the chance to figure out if this whole authoritative personality was Castiel's real personality or just a facade. He's always thought of Castiel as a dominant, but well, only time can tell what he truly is.

It's not like Dean doesn't know Castiel is gay. In fact, he's even witnessed Castiel break up with a man over the phone (it was brutal, not for Castiel, for the man).

"What say, Mr. Winchester?"

Dean snaps out of his reverie the moment a voice addresses him, and he turns to the source, Mr. Evans.

"Yes?"

"How does this deal affect you? We want to know every way our decision will impact the company's workforce."
Mr. Evans says, and Dean nods, shunning every pesky little fantasy out of his mind and turning his attention to Mr. Evans.

"Well, your deal speaks of investing about thirty million in the company, but knowing the way this works, more than half of this investment will be used for the development of the product you're introducing, so mostly, it adds a larger workload onto the PR and designing team, which means my team, headed by Mr. Novak here, will have to momentarily set aside any other assignments, and focus solely on yours."

Mr. Evans considers it.

"Hmm... That's quite true. A good insight, Mr. Winchester, thank you, which is exactly why I was saying we must ask a third person."
He says to Mr. Moore, who nods along.

"Agreed."

Silence falls upon the table, and from the corner of his eyes, Dean catches Castiel pursing his lips, chest heaving as he fills his lungs with large inhales, pretending as if the stimulation inside him doesn't exist. Castiel opens his eyes, and in an instant, they fix onto Dean's lips.

Dean lets out a soft gasp, as Castiel's lust-blown eyes, dark with arousal and need settle onto Dean's, and clearly, Castiel has realized his mischief has been caught, because his eyes widen, before tearing away and settling onto the table.

"Well, give us a minute to read through these."
Mr. Moore says, and pulls towards him a few files, while Mr. Evans takes another few.

Castiel flashes them a quick smile.

"Sure."

The table is drowned in a silence, with the occasional hushed mumbling of their clients.

Dean grins.

Okay. Venturing into risky territory now.

With the softest nudge, Dean rests his foot against Castiel's under the table, and the touch catches Castiel's attention. He narrows his eyes, before looking up at Dean. Castiel raises his eyebrows, a silent question, and Dean quirks his bottom lip, arching a brow at Castiel, a slight smirk lingering at his lips, as he presses the fourth setting.

This is for the time Castiel ignored Dean's pitch in a meeting, choosing a rather inexperienced employee's pitch over his.

8X.

Dean smiles, a knowing glint in his eyes as he bounces his eyebrows at Castiel.

Realization dawns upon Castiel's eyes and his eyes go comically wide, as his mouth drops open, an utterly appalled expression on his face.

Well. Cat's out.

Castiel drops his head down, as he presses the back of his palm against his lips, barely suppressing a moan.

Well, Dean's not that bad of a person, so he speaks up to distract the clients.

"Everything as per your preference, sir?"

Mr. Moore nods.

"Things seem quite well. It's no lie, the Garrison is one of the market's top leaders, so any work we do with you is an honour."

"The honour is ours as well. Your firm is exemplary."
Dean smiles.

Under the table, he brushes his foot against Castiel's, only earning him a sharp kick to the ankle.

Now. That's not nice.

That deserves a punishment, doesn't it?

Whoops. Dean's hand slips.

10X.

"Oh, oh my god, oh my-"

Did Castiel seriously just moan in the middle of a meeting? The answer is yes. 

"Mr. Novak? Something wrong? You sound extremely distraught?"
Mr. Evans asks, leaning forward on the table. Mr. Moore appears just as baffled by this sudden outburst, and his eyes study Castiel.

"I'm so sorry, I just uh, I thought of something important, something I completely forgot about."

"Oh?"
Mr. Evans says, taken aback by Castiel's odd behaviour.

This is fun. Watching Castiel squirm and stumble. Watching him lose control of his tight-lipped mouth. Watching him try to suppress moans, holding onto tables and grinding his ass against the seat. Watching Castiel Novak tremble with pleasure and shame is fun.

"Right, uh, I just wanted to say, you need to make a decision before the thirtieth of this month. Those are the orders from above, and if not followed, it's our jobs on the line."

Hmm. Nice cover up. Castiel might even turn out to be a fun guy.

"Oh, of course, we'll make a decision as soon as possible, just give us a minute."

"Sure."
Castiel grits out, and Dean watches as his fingernails digging into the table rip a slight cut into the fabric.

Wow. Now that, is torture. Sweet, sweet torture.

The two men, Mr. Evans and Mr. Moore dive into a conversation, their voices low, as if whispering somehow nulls Dean and Castiel's existence right next to them.

Dean throws a glance over at Castiel, who is barely even holding himself together. Truth be told, Dean is surprised at how long he's managed to keep himself from coming right in his pants.

"We've decided to close it," Mr. Moore says, "-we don't see why there should be any delay, considering we've been discussing this on and off for quite a while."

It's as if Castiel doesn't even bother about the vibrator in his ass, vibrating at the second highest speed possible, as he smiles, beaming at both clients.

"So we have a deal?"

"We have a deal."
Mr. Evans smiles, and Castiel grins wider, hands swaying with nonchalance as he chuckles.

"That is wonderful. It's been a real honour working with you, and I genuinely look forward to working with you, and I think I say this mostly on behalf of the company as well."

"It's an honour working with you as well, Mr. Novak, and of course, bright Mr. Winchester. You're going a lot of places, son, I can tell."
Mr. Evans smiles, and Dean tips his head in acknowledgment.

"Thank you sir."

"So? Shall we pop some champagne?"
Mr. Moore suggests, and right as Castiel begins to speak, Mr. Evans cuts him off.

"Our flight's at eleven, Bruce."
There's a familiarity laced to Mr. Evan's words, and it's evident the two men are close friends.

"We've got an hour left, no?"

"The roads here are worse than the tube back home, and it's already half past nine."
Mr. Evans grumbles, and Mr. Moore nods, a solemn expression on his face.

"Uhm, if it's alright, we could get a company car to drop you off-"
Castiel begins, but is cut off by Mr. Evans.

"Oh no, that's no worry, and that's quite kind of you, but we'll get a cab. Yeah? We'll be taking your leave now, gentlemen, this was a lovely chat."

Castiel smiles, palms digging into the edge of the table to keep himself put, as the two elder men stand up. Dean and Castiel follow.

The elder pair bids them a goodbye, while they bid them a safe journey in return, and as the pair moves away, Dean steps forward to escort them to the exit, when a sharp tug at his wrist stops him. He turns back, only to meet Castiel's furious face.

"Give it back, Dean."

"Give what back?"

It's fun to tease him.

"You know what."
Castiel mumbles, eyes turned down, head hung with shame.

"Oh this?" Dean says, an amusing glint in his eyes, as he holds the remote right in front of Castiel's face, "-I don't really know what it is, mind uh, mind explaining?"

Dean loves this.

A warm, gorgeous pink blush spreads across Castiel's face, and he lifts his gaze up, until it meets Dean's. He takes a step forward, and for a moment, Dean finds himself frozen, this close to Castiel, when a hot breath blows against his cheek, Castiel's lips ghosting over his ear.

"How about you cut that crap out, and give my darned remote back to me, Dean?"

"Yeah, uh, I don't think I will."

A seething resentment flashes across Castiel's face, and he surges at Dean, trying to grab the remote in a brazen attempt, but failing, as Dean grabs him by the waist and holds him put.

Dean grins, and slips the remote in his pocket, eyes glancing to their sides to make sure they aren't being watched. Thank god for fancy restaurants and their private booths.

Defeated, Castiel sighs, hands gripping Dean's arms as he stables his breath, thighs pressed tight together, his head dropping down against Dean's chest.

"What do you want?"

Revenge. Sweet revenge.

"I'm just having fun with this new toy of mine."

"It's not yours. How did you even get it?"

"Fell out your pocket when I bumped into you."

"Damn it."

"You know, we really need to see them off, think you can manage yourself until then?"
Dean asks, a belittling tone to his voice.

Well. Novak is a huge dick, so it doesn't matter.

"Yes but," Castiel breathes, hands loosening around Dean's arms, dropping down to hold onto his wrists, "-please turn it down..."

Hmm. Does he deserve it? Eh, not really.

Dean leans forward, and his lips ghost over Castiel's ear, the other's breath hot against his cheek, as Dean squeezes Castiel's waist, and tugs him closer.

"No."

Castiel whimpers in his arms, eyes going wide the second he realises the sound he's made. Dean laughs, not intentionally, no, he just can't believe this imperious, authoritative, domineering man he's known for more than four years, and who happens to be his boss, is literally moaning in his arms like a bitch in heat.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because I hate you."

"Am I really that bad?"

"You have no idea."

"Do you want me to-ah- apologize for uh-anything?"

Dean considers it.

He could let Castiel apologize, hand his remote back to him, and go home to his bed. Or...

"No. I want to humiliate you, Mr. Novak, just as much as you love humiliating me."

Castiel sighs, and his lips drop open, head lolling back as he digs his fingers into Dean's wrist to hold himself up.

This is a sight Dean could get used to.

"Look, I'm sorry for being so, oh, so, ough-"

"So...?"
Dean prompts, and Castiel glares at him through narrow eyes.

"For being so bossy or whatever, just give me my remote, please, Dean, I beg you-"

"Then beg."

A thrumming whine rises up Castiel's throat, as his eyes squeeze shut, and fingers leave bruises against Dean's wrist. Dean glances down, eyeing the bulge in Castiel's trousers, as he smiles to himself.

"I need to-oh- I need to come, Dean, please, please, I'll do anything-"

Wait. Maybe...

"Anything?"

"Anything."

"Anything?"

This time, Castiel lets go of Dean's hands, and instead, slides his hand up Dean's neck, grabbing a fistful of hair at the back of his head and tugging him forward, until his lips are right next to Dean's ear. In the softest, the most sensual voice Dean's ever heard in his life before, Castiel whispers.

"Anything."

Dean's cock twitches even before he processes the word.

Oh my god. Castiel Novak wants to have sex with Dean. Wait, does Castiel want to have sex with Dean? Yeah, sounds like it.

Holy shit. This can't be real. This can't be real. This can't be real. This can't be-

"Dean?"

Castiel's voice draws Dean out of his stupor, and Dean sets his eyes onto Castiel's.

In the blink of an eye, Dean is grabbing Castiel's hand, yanking him forward, as he turns around and drags Castiel along to the exit, where their clients are engrossed in conversation.

Before they can enter the client's field of sight, Dean turns to Castiel, eyes focused on the gorgeous man in front of him, as he instructs Castiel.

"Get inside the bathroom, and stay there. I'll bid them."

A smirk lingers at Castiel's lips, and his eyes drop down to study Dean's lips, before meeting his eyes.

"Yes sir."
He whispers, and jerks his hand out of Dean's, sauntering away.

This can't be real. He did not just call Dean 'sir'.

Dean takes a deep breath and turns to their clients.

Get a grip, Winchester.

Dean steps out of the corner, walking over to the clients with a wide smile on his face.

"We were wondering if you'd forgotten about us?"
Mr. Moore scoffs, and Dean shakes his head.

"Sorry, Mr. Novak and I were simply discussing a few things. Anyway, he's in the bathroom, so I decided not to keep you waiting. Have a safe flight sir, you as well, and on behalf of Garrison Corps, we really look forward to working with you. So glad you could fly out today and settle the deal."

The two men smile at Dean, and extend their hands out for a shake. Dean shakes both of their hands, before waving to them as they leave the restaurant.

Well. Good riddance.

Dean turns on his heel, sending the receptionist a charming smile that has her blushing, before heading towards the bathroom.

The door is unlocked, and he glances around once to check they're not being watched, before slipping into the bathroom.

Woah. That is one spacious bathroom.

"I'm starting to believe that being late is an inbuilt part of your personality, rather than a repetitive mistake. "

There he is, Castiel, sitting on the closed toilet seat with his face in his hands, eyes studying Dean.

"Oh shut up, Novak. Do you ever have moments where you feel like it's absolutely not necessary for you to speak?"

Dean rolls his eyes, and with a click, locks the door behind him, hands reaching for the buckle of his belt.

Castiel glances at his belt, at his nimble fingers working it open, before his eyes meet Dean's.

"I like speaking. Because I know I'm right."
Castiel stands up, walking over to Dean, a slight stiffness in his movements and a shit-eating grin on his face.

Bastard.

"God, do you know how much I hate you? Like literally, I can't even tell you how much I despise you."

A step forward, and all at once, Castiel is in Dean's space, his blue, lust-blown eyes tracking every movement of Dean's. His lips part, tongue darting out to wet them, as his eyes fall to Dean's lips. It's a subconscious action, and Dean licks his lips too.

Before he knows it, there's a hand at Dean's belt, nudging his fingers away, and working the buckle open.

"You know what they say, from the deepest desires often comes the deadliest hate..."

Their eyes meet, lips parted and slick, expectant and impatient, breaths warm against each other's cheek, as a tug at Dean's belt draws him closer to Castiel.

It's strange.

This man, the one unbuckling his belt, has starred in quite a few fantasies of Dean's. Sometimes he's begging for a cock, down on his knees, sometimes he's tied up to a bed, with blindfolds on, being fucked ruthlessly by a machine, sometimes he's got cocks filling his mouth and his ass, coming inside him and filling him up like a whore.

And yet, here, in the big bathroom of La Claire de Lune, with a vibrator inside his ass that Dean has been playing with for the past hour, hands on his belt, is none other than Castiel Novak.

"This doesn't change things."
Castiel whispers, and it draws Dean out of his reverie, as he slides his hands around Castiel's waist, up to his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling his head back to expose his neck.

No going back, Winchester. You're the one in charge here, now.

"Dean."
Castiel breathes, chest heaving as he gasps, lips hung open, so tempting and inviting, but Dean won't get to them so soon. No, he knows just what they're good at, and he'll make sure he uses those lips until Castiel's jaw aches.

With a glint of determination in his eyes, Dean dives down and latches his lips onto Castiel's neck.

"Oh-"
Castiel moans, eyes slipping shut as Dean presses their throbbing erections together, kissing his way around Castiel's neck. A hand slides up to the back of Dean's head, holding onto his hair, as Dean drags his lips lower, until they reach the curve of Castiel's shoulder.

And then, the hands start flying, followed by the buttons, the zippers, the shirts and pants, (thanks to Dean, one less button), and before they know it, they're naked, and this time, Dean pins Castiel to the glimmering white tiled wall behind them, hands pressed on the wall above his head, as Dean slips his knee between Castiel's legs, rubbing his thigh against Castiel's throbbing erection.

"Fuck- can you hurry up?"
Castiel says, earning him a sharp squeeze at his wrists that has him hissing.

"Who has the remote?"

A pause.

"Who has the remote, Castiel?"

"You."

"So, who makes the rules?"

Another pause.

"You."

Dean smiles, and brings a hand down to rub his thumb over Castiel's dusky pink nipples, causing Castiel to cry out Dean's name, as Dean takes the bud in his mouth, swirling it around, scraping his teeth against it.

"Fuck yes-"
Castiel thrusts forward, head resting against the tile, and Dean bites his nipple softly, until Castiel is glaring down at him.

"You only come when I tell you to come, clear?"

Oh it's very clear, if Castiel's lewd, arousal filled eyes are to be trusted, but Dean needs a word.

"Yes."

"Good."

Within a second, Dean steps away from Castiel, and watches as he whines at the loss of Dean's touch.

For a moment, Dean simply studies Castiel's body. It's impressive, honestly, and Dean wonders why he insists on hiding it under that stupid trench coat of his. Toned shoulders, lean arms, narrow waist, a round, thick ass, and a slender, throbbing cock.

That's it. Dean can't wait to debauch him.

"On you knees Cas, hands on your back."

Castiel's dark gaze wanders over Dean's figure, before he drops down to his knees, hands held together behind him.

"Good boy."

Dean grins, and steps forward, until his heavy, erect cock hangs in front of Castiel's face. Under him, Castiel's cock twitches, and his nipples perk up, eyes studying Dean's cock as it hovers a mere inch away from his face.

"Open your mouth."

Without an ounce of modesty left in him, Castiel opens his mouth, and Dean grabs the sides of Castiel's head, fingers digging into his scalp with a death grip.

"Now be a good boy for me, and take what I give your slutty little mouth."

A smile twinkles in Castiel's eyes, one Dean's never seen before, as Castiel lets his tongue out.

One, two, three. 

There it goes. 

I just put my dick in my boss's mouth.

The first touch of Castiel's warm, wet mouth over Dean's cock is like a much needed antidote to Dean's plight. But he's not going to let Castiel take his time sucking him off or whatever, no, Dean wants to fuck those lips. Fuck them until they're swollen, until Castiel is gagging around his cock, until he's crying, begging for more, begging for Dean to cum inside his throat.

He holds Castiel's head steady, and with a sharp thrust, pushes his cock inside.

"Oh yeah..."
Dean groans, as his thrusts fasten. He glances down at Castiel, who's eyes are shut, sweat trickling down his forehead, and a cock ramming inside his throat.

His tongue lays flat against the bottom of Dean's cock, as Dean holds his head in his hands, and fucks into his mouth.

You know how you could make this better? You still haven't pressed XX.

Dean's eyes widen at the light bulb idea in his brain, and with one hand steady around Castiel's head, he pulls out, pulling a throaty whine out of Castiel as well.

"Shut up."
He hisses, and watches as Castiel opens his eyes, lips swollen, spit dribbling down his chin.

Dean reaches for his pant, rustling the fabric until the remote drops out.

"What are you doing?"
Castiel asks, his voice breathless.

"Having some fun."
Dean scoffs, and without any preamble, shoves his thumb onto the last button.

XX.

"Oh my god- Ah-"
Castiel cries out, body going limp as his hands fall to the ground to hold himself up. Helpless and writhing in stimulation, Castiel tries to grind his ass against the marble floor, seeking any, any sort of relief, but Dean doesn't let him have it. There's a lot more left to take from Castiel, isn't it?

He steps into his prior position, and with a round hand grabbing Castiel's jaw and the other grabbing a fistful of Castiel's hair, Dean glares down at Castiel.

"Open up-"

"Dean please, I just need to come-"

"Open your mouth, Castiel."
A sharp tug at his hair, and Castiel's mouth jerks open, tongue dropping out to rest against the back of his lips.

With a sharp, bruising squeeze at Castiel's jaw, Dean shoves his cock inside, until the head of his cock nudges against the back of Castiel's throat. A guttural sound rises up in the back of Castiel's mouth every time Dean thrusts his cock deep inside, balls slapping against Castiel's chin.

"That's right baby, gag on my fucking cock."

"Mmph-"

Castiel gags, and no matter how hard he tries to complain, the voice only ends up as a moan.

Dean's head drops back, and oh god, that mouth should be illegal. His thrusts never stop, only fasten, until the slow build of an orgasm begins to crawl through Dean's balls, and he pulls out.

His eyes refocus on Castiel's face, tears streaming down his blue eyes, lips swollen red and jaw slack.

Dean grins, and slaps his cock against Castiel's lips.

"You know, Cas, with a mouth like that, you'd be making more money on the streets."

Castiel sighs, rolling his eyes to himself, as he pants out a breathless-
"I'll keep that in mind."

God, what's it going to take to get the snark outta him?

He's hotter this way, though.

"Get up."
Dean growls, and steps away, pumping his hand over his cock to keep it erect.

Castiel doesn't move an inch.

Dean sighs, and moves forward, hooking his hands under Castiel's arms and heaving him up.
"Alright, up, come on."

Castiel falls pliant against Dean's chest, panting heavy, as the soft buzz of the vibrator reaches Dean's ear.

"You wanna come, sweetheart?"
Okay, Castiel might be Dean's most hated person, but hey, Dean can't help the soft endearment that rolls of his tongue, especially not when Castiel's snuggled to his chest like a fricking koala.

"Yes, please."
Castiel sobs, hands scrambling to hold onto Dean's biceps, as he struggles to hold himself up.

"You're gonna listen to me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, go stand near that sink, and bend over like a good little slut for me, will you?"

Castiel sucks in a deep breath before nodding and pulling away. He walks over to the sink, and bends down, hands holding onto the rim, just as Dean instructed.

Dean jerks his cock a few times, before reaching for his wallet inside his pant pocket, and grabbing the condom he keeps there for emergency.

Like this one.

He tears the package apart, and slips the rubber onto his aching cock, before walking over to where Castiel is bent over, his thick, meaty ass on display.

"Deeann-"
Castiel whines, pushing his ass back against Dean's cock, a shiver running down Dean's back as his cock brushes against Castiel's hole.

Dean drops to his knees, eyes fixed onto the ass in front of him.

Look. Dean is a simple man. He sees an ass. He worships it. Especially one this tempting.

"Can you hurry up? We're in a restaurant bathroom, Dean, not the backseat of your Impala."

"Sorry I- how'd you know I drive an Impala?"

"You told me. Is that seriously more important?"

Dean shakes his head, and with a determined sigh, slides his hand over the round, meaty flesh of Castiel's ass, eliciting a soft gasp from Castiel, before pulling his ass apart with his fingers.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Nestled inside Castiel's pink, tight little hole, is a thick, long black vibrator.

Dean brushes his finger against the vibrator, and hears Castiel moan above him, and dear God, it's vibrating so fast it literally looks like it's not moving at all.

Wow, I've really been torturing him, huh.

With the slightest tug, Dean hooks his fingers around the vibrator and pulls it out. Immediately, Castiel whines, and Dean watches as his tight, sloppy hole clenches around nothing, mourning the loss of the vibrator. Dean presses a dry thumb against Castiel's hole, and he jerks, pushing his ass back against Dean's thumb.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is probably about to be the best sex Dean has and it's going to be with goddamn Castiel Novak.

Without any more hesitation or delay, Dean plunges his middle finger inside Castiel's hole, watching as the man's back arches, and Castiel gasps.

One finger. Simply thrusting. In and out. Dean feels around the walls of Castiel's ass, one hand holding onto his hip, as the other prods into Castiel's ass.

"Dean, another one-"
Castiel breathes out above him, and Dean complies, simply because it's what he was about to do anyway. He stills his middle finger, pushing another finger in beside it, picking up pace as he thrusts his fingers harder, while consciously looking for any kind of ridge of muscle to indicate where Dean needs to be rubbing.

It happens in a second, Dean's finger brushes against something swollen, and Castiel moans, a shudder ripping through his entire body.

Dean presses his fingers deeper, until he finds the same spot. This time, Castiel has a milder reaction, and Dean continues to press his fingers around the ridge, massaging around the muscles and over it, watching as a bead of precome drizzles down Castiel's cock.

"Please, need your cock, Dean-"

"Shh... You'll get it when I say so."
Dean growls, and after a few solid minutes of massaging Castiel's prostate, withdraws his fingers.

They're short on lube, so they've got to work with the one Castiel already has inside him when he put in the vibrator.

With the lube smeared on his fingers, Dean slicks up his cock, stands up, and holds it against Castiel's hole, brushing the tip up and down Castiel's hole, watching the hole flutter at every touch.

Alright. This is it.

Dean draws in a deep breath, and presses the tip of his cock to Castiel's hole, gently nudging it in. To his surprise, his cock is swallowed up with much eagerness inside Castiel.

Loud moans tears through the room, as Dean drops his head back, and Castiel pushes his ass back onto Dean's cock.

"Dean, fuck me, please, fuck me, please, please, please-"
Castiel breathes out under him, and Dean complies, setting a slow pace, as he pulls his cock out until his head is right about to exit, before thrusting in.

Through narrow, dark eyes, Dean watches his cock plunge inside Castiel, and pull back, stopping only at the entrance before pushing in again. His hands slide under Castiel's stomach, and he drapes himself over Castiel, lips pressing right below Castiel's shoulder, as he fucks into him.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The thrusts are heavy, and excruciatingly slow.

"Dean. Dean."
Castiel chants in a broken sob, as Dean fucks into him.

A hand reaches up to Dean's neck, stroking against his nape and resting there, and he tightens his grip around Castiel's stomach.

Their bodies jerk with every thrust, and in the white noise around him, Dean can distinguish the sound of a sob, rising a notch each time Dean thrusts against Castiel's prostate.

"Faster, please-"
Castiel cries, and his voice is thin, full of need and want, as he pushes his ass back, meeting Dean's thrusts with his own, driving Dean to drill his cock deeper inside Castiel.

"God, Cas-"
Dean hisses, and stills himself inside Castiel for a moment, before picking up his pace, sending his thrusts in faster, until the friction is unbearable, and Castiel is crying out his name.

"Dean-Dean-Dean-Dean-"

Maybe it's the hoarse, fucked out voice of Castiel that does it, or the fast, intolerable friction that his cock is enduring inside Castiel's ass, or it's the concept itself, of Dean bending his boss over and fucking him in the ass, that does it, but Dean finds himself nearing his climax, the familiar buzz of an orgasm creeping through his veins, drawing his balls together as he lets his hips enter a frenzy, feral state, where his mind and his cock are two separate entities. His hips are snapping with each thrust, and in the back of his mind, he knows Castiel is crying, moaning, screeching, has been, for quite a long while now, and yet, he can feel nothing, but the jerk of his hips as he fucks ruthlessly into Castiel's hole.

"Dean, I'm gonna come-come- I'm gonna come, please let me, please, please, please, please-"
Castiel begs, and in his reverie, Dean grants him the pleasure, mumbling a soft 'come for me, Cas', against his shoulder, and then Castiel coming, thick, white stripes painted over the tiles, his toes curling into the ground, neck snapping back and body contorting around Dean.

Everything stills for a minute.

Castiel's moans. Dean's cock. Their bodies.

"Come on my face."
Castiel says, and it's the filthiest, most vulgar thing Castiel has ever said to him, but the mere idea of Castiel's face covered in sticky white cum is enough to throw Dean over the edge, so he pulls out and steps away from Castiel's ass.

A moment later, Castiel turns around and settles down onto his knees, pushing Dean's hands away from his cock. Castiel slips the condom off, and with cautious, hesitant fingers, takes Dean's erect cock into his hands.

Dean hisses, holding on to the wall next to him to keep himself from stumbling back, as Castiel pumps his fingers around Dean's cock. Before he knows it, there's something wet poking at Dean's slit, and he groans, eyes blinking open, only to settle on to Castiel, kneeling under him, his tongue lapping at the head of Dean's cock.

"Shit-"

Dean cusses, and his hand flies down to brush through Castiel's hair.

Wide blue eyes meet Dean's, and in the blink of an eye, Dean's cock is being swallowed, literally. Castiel pushes his mouth on to Dean's cock, until the head nudges against the back of his throat, and his fingers reach for Dean's balls, pressing and tugging, rolling them around in his hands as he sucks Dean off with a fiery determination.

"Gonna come, Cas-"
Dean groans, and Castiel pops off his cock with a string of spit stretching from the slit of his cock to Castiel's lips. Castiel leaves little kitten licks at the head of Dean's cock, before using his hand to pump his cock, eyes shut as the hand in Castiel's hair tightens, squeezing a chunk of Castiel's hair.

The slow build of his orgasm from before has gained it's pace as Castiel jacks Dean off, lips parted with spit drooling down his chin, eyes shut and cock soft between his legs.

"Fuck-"
Is all the warning Castiel gets, before Dean comes.

His cock twitches in Castiel's hands, jerking and throbbing, as sticky, white come paints all over Castiel's face, from his lips to his cheek, to a splatter against his nose and forehead. His hands don't stop, though, milking out every last drop of come from Dean's cock, as an orgasmic shiver runs down Dean's spine.

A silence falls upon them, and Dean opens his eyes in the slightest, only to find Castiel licking his lips, swallowing down the blobs of come from his face. His fingers reach up, flicking the globs off, as he sucks his fingers clean, and Dean can do nothing but watch, stunned as his boss swallows down his come.

"Holy fucking shit, Cas."
Dean breathes out, and watches a smug grin settle across Castiel's face.

Dean reaches a finger down, swiping some come off Castiel's cheek, and holding his finger to Castiel's mouth, watching as his tongue expertly laps away the white fluid, a sated smile on his face.

They slip down onto the floor, sitting side by side, with their backs against the wall.

A moment's silence later, Dean voices the query he's been having for the past hour.

"Why did you wear a vibrator to the most important meeting of the year?"

Castiel smiles. His hand slips into Dean's, and he draws in a deep breath.

"I always wear one to meetings. Plugs and vibrators, I mean."

"Wait, so every meeting I've ever attended with you, you've been wearing butt plugs?"

"Yes. It's extremely peculiar, however I find wearing a plug or a vibrator to a meeting really helps me stay conscious. Somehow I just perform better. Today, though, you weren't supposed to find the remote."

Dean laughs, turning to Castiel, and studying his face.

"I wasn't supposed to rip off a button on your blazer, either, sorry about that."

A smug grin spreads across Castiel's face.

"I think you've made up for it."
He bumps Dean's shoulder, and the two men bask in the aftermath of bathroom sex. Albeit, given the bathroom is quite luxurious.

"So... Do we still hate each other?"
Dean asks, a slight teasing note to his voice.

Castiel laughs, and Dean turns to study his face. There's a soft glow on his face, a prominent rosiness tinting his cheeks. In that moment, Dean decides he likes this look on Castiel's face.

"Very much."
Castiel says, and turns to Dean, the smile on his lips faltering as he catches Dean staring at him.

A beat passes between them.

"We should get going."

"Yeah. Never been more thankful to have a day off."

Castiel laughs at that, and using the wall as support, pushes himself up on his feet, helping Dean stand up next.

"Do you uh, know a good burger place?"
Castiel asks, as he walks over to where his clothes are in a heap, and begins dressing.

"We can have a burger here?"

"No, no, like a real burger place. With lots of grease and beer. Something that will probably give me diabetes."

Dean laughs at that, eyes meeting Castiel's, and there's a vibrant gleam in his eyes.

"Yeah. I do. Wanna have lunch with me?"

"I'd love to."

Castiel smiles. From across the room, his eyes meet Dean's.

"It's a date then."