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When Dean got off his shift at the garage, it was already hot as balls, so he was less than thrilled—but not surprised—to find the AC in the apartment had crapped out. He got as far as taking off his shoes and shirts before exhaustion hit and he dropped down on the couch to veg.
He might get around to getting his jeans off later, but he didn’t have the energy just yet. It could have been worse. He could have actually worn his uniform pants instead of being behind on laundry. And thankfully, he'd already showered before leaving the garage, so he wasn't covered in grease.
All of that was why, when Sam came home after study group, Dean was lying on the couch half dressed, head barely propped on his hand and only semi-conscious. He belated looked up after Sam opened the door and mumbled a hello.
When he realized there was a second person behind Sam, he heaved a breath that he hoped didn't come across as annoyed as he felt and glanced at the new addition and mumbled a “Hey” he barely meant. The guy answered back and Dean looked back at the TV as Sam started explaining something to the guy. Then the guy’s looks registered in Dean’s brain and his gaze flew back that direction. He checked to see if Sam was looking and then, when he saw that neither of them were paying him attention, he took a minute to check out Sam’s friend thoroughly.
Fucking hell, that guy was sexy. Dean wasn’t even sure what it was about him. He seemed nervous and he was dressed like he didn’t really understand the concept—or possibly as though he’d been dared to find three pieces of clothing that were completely unmatched and wear them as an outfit—but something about him yelled “Please get naked so I can bang you over a table till you scream.”
And Dean was halfway to naked already.
He jerked his eyes away, just as he felt the other guy turn his gaze Dean’s way. He was aware that a similar scrutiny was being applied to him now, but he didn’t feel uncomfortable. If anything, he was excited by it.
“Oh, uh, Dean, this is Cas. He’s my study partner and I invited him to dinner. Hope that’s okay. We really gotta get this project done right and we’re on a tight schedule,” Sam said.
Dean glanced over again, managing a small, distracted smile this time, in Cas’ direction. “Yeah, man, it’s cool. Hope you like chicken.” The guy licked his lips and Dean turned back to the TV, willing his dick to play dead until they were safely out of the room.
“Chicken is fine, thank you, Dean.”
Holy shit. That guy’s voice ought to be illegal. And saying Dean’s name? Punishable by... damn, the possibilities had Dean’s head swimming.
“Here, Cas, let me show you to my room and then I need to grab some stuff, all right?” Sam said and led Cas away.
Dean took the opportunity to take in the view from the side and the back. They were not in the least disappointing. Damn, but the man had an ass. A perfect ass, just made for gripping with both hands and—
“Dean!” Sam said in a hoarse whisper, snapping Dean out of his imagination and making him realize that Cas had already made his way to Sam’s room.
“What?”
“Don’t you dare do this to me, Dean!” Sam warned in a low breathy voice.
Dean frowned indignantly. “Do what?”
“You know exactly what, Dean. Need I remind you about Brady?” Sam asked, pissy face firmly engaged.
Dean wasn’t sure whether his own expression was a scowl or a grimace, but he knew it was unhappy and unpleasant. “Dude, how many times I gotta tell you I didn’t sleep with Brady? Dude was not my type, on top of which he was douche. He skipped out on you because he was an asshole. It had nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah, whatever. I saw the way you looked at each other.”
“I don’t know how he looked at me, but I looked at him like he mighta just crawled off the bottom of my shoe. Now fuck off, Sam. I’m hot and I’m tired and you got studying to do with your hot friend,” he added, just to piss off his brother.
If the disgusted noise Sam made was any sign, he hit his mark with accuracy.
An unknown amount of time later, Dean was floating in a daze, unsure of what he was watching, when Sam suddenly came rushing out of the bedroom, swearing.
“Fuck, Dean, I gotta go get Jess. Cas is gonna stay here and keep working till dinner. I don’t know how long this is gonna take, so go ahead and eat without me, okay?”
“Uh, okay, sure,” Dean agreed, groggily.
He sat up on the couch as Sam was flying out the door, practically slamming it behind him. The door almost immediately swung back open, Sam leaning through it and pointing straight at Dean.
“And behave!” Sam admonished before slamming the door again.
“Whatever you say, bitch,” Dean muttered to himself.
“Your brother is very intense, isn’t he?” Cas said in his road machinery voice and Dean jumped.
“Fuck! Um. Yeah, kinda. He’s good people, though.”
“Yes,” Cas said, continuing to stare at Dean. “Why is he so afraid that you and I will have sex? Does he think I might get pregnant?”
Dean laughed, hoping like hell that, despite his complete lack of expression, Cas was making a joke. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Because that isn’t possible,” Cas said. So, maybe not kidding. Before Dean could respond, Cas followed that up with, “I’m on the pill.” This time, Dean noticed the slightest twitch in the corner of Cas’ mouth and a slight crinkling of the eyes.
Dean grinned. “You’re all right, Cas.” Then he glanced at Cas’ outfit again. “Who dresses you, though?” he asked, causing Cas to look down at himself. “Did you lose a bet? I feel like you lost a bet. Not that you don’t look hot anyway, but still.”
“The purpose of clothes is cover nakedness and regulate body temperature. These serve both those functions adequately.”
“Yeah, I mean, why don’t we just go back to togas, huh? Frat boys couldn’t have everything wrong, could they?” Dean joked.
Cas didn’t laugh. Cas looked at Dean like he might be from a different planet. Then suddenly, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re joking.” It quirked up another notch and was joined in its lifting by the other corner. “You also said I was hot.”
“Yeah, and duh, you are hot. You know that.”
Cas lost his version of a smile and one of his eyebrows lifted to replace it. “Do I?”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t think there’s anything particularly appealing about me, no.”
“Dude—that’s—I don’t... are you fucking with me right now?” Dean spluttered.
“No?” Cas said, as if he weren’t quite sure what the right answer was.
Dean was at a loss for words, but he was saved from answering by the growling of Cas’ stomach. Dean sighed and stood up, gesturing for Cas to follow him into the kitchen.
“Come on, let’s get you something to eat. I’m thinking chicken fajitas. Sound okay to you?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Cas said, taking a seat at the kitchen table as Dean walked to the fridge and started removing ingredients. “Would you like some help?”
“Uh, yeah, you ever cut up an avocado before?”
“No,” Cas said, looking worried.
Dean smiled. “Good time to learn, then. Here, I’ll show you on one and then you can finish it and do the others while I’m taking care of the chicken, okay?”
“All right.”
Cas watched him studiously as he demonstrated how to slice all the way around the pit and separate the avocado into halves, then peel and slice it. Dean left him to it and started preparing the chicken. He also tossed the tortillas in the oven to warm. Once he had it seared on both sides and cooking on the pan, he went back to check on Cas.
“Damn, man, not bad for a first time. Not bad at all. You want just plain avocado slices on yours? I was thinking about making some guac.”
“Guac?” Cas asked, like it was a sound he’d never heard before.
“Guac, like guacamole,” Dean explained.
“I’ve never had guacamole.”
“You... okay, yep, guac it is, then. Here, take these and chop them into this bowl,” Dean said, handing him all the makings of guacamole. “I’ll be back to put it all together in a minute.”
Dean found that he enjoyed teaching Cas things. The guy had a clear passion for learning that was nice. He treated each new piece of information Dean gave him as if it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever heard. And he took Dean’s instructions seriously, but didn’t go all perfectionist on anything, which was nice.
A little while later—after Dean had shown Cas the proper way to build a fajita, since Cas had never tried that, either, apparently—they were sitting on the couch watching some HBO movie, as they ate their fajitas and drank beer. They’d been discussing whether the movie heroine’s actions were actually plausible, when Cas went off topic all of a sudden and threw Dean for a loop.
“I’m just saying, I don’t think that’s the outfit you choose, if you’re a woman planning on robbing a place,” Dean said.
“What are your feelings on having sex with me?” Cas asked.
Dean, who was smack in the middle of a bite of fajita, froze for a second before completing the action he’d started and chewing very, very slowly. His gaze never left Cas’, though. Finally, he swallowed.
“I’m sorry, what now? Are you offering?” Dean asked.
“Not offering, necessarily. Just wondering. Sam expressed concern that you might try to have sex with me, but you never said what your own feelings were on the subject.”
“Well, what are your feelings on the subject?” Dean countered.
“Like I said, I’m on the pill,” Cas said and Dean caught that tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth and the crinkling of his eyes again. “And you aren’t hideous to look at,” he added, the smile growing ever so slightly. “So I wouldn’t be against it.”
“Oh. Um, good. Yeah. I’d, um, yeah, I’m not against it, either,” Dean said, cringing inside at the least smooth he’d ever been on any hookup, ever.
“Would you prefer to finish eating? Or would you like to get started while there’s still a chance your brother won’t catch us?”
Dean quickly finished his beer. “Now’s good. You good?”
The smile was now truly visible and not just a hint. “I’m good, but perhaps a mint first, given the amount of onions in our food.”
“Shit,” Dean said, kicking himself mentally. “Yeah, um, oh wait! I actually have something better.”
He ran to the kitchen and got a couple of sprigs of fresh parsley and brought them back. “I read a long time ago, this is good for your breath.”
Cas squinted, but dutifully chewed, just as Dean did. Before Dean was entirely ready, Cas pulled him forward and gave him the single hottest kiss he’d ever had in his life. The fact that it tasted like both parsley and onions said a lot for just how good it was, he thought.
“You taste like onions,” Cas whispered, as they leaned with their foreheads together and panted.
Dean snorted. “Sorry. You do too.”
Cas shrugged. “I like onions,” he said, then pulled Dean back in for another kiss.
If they were in a movie, Dean thought, they’d probably have rolled artfully down the hallway, swapping back and forth between who had their back to the wall, until they made it to the bedroom. Or maybe Cas would have jumped up and wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist, allowing Dean to carry him.
As they were not living in a movie, what actually happened was they knocked over a table, tripped over Dean’s shoes, knocked their teeth together, smacked Cas’s head into the door frame, and only just barely made it to the bedroom alive.
Also, there was no swapping back and forth because Cas was in total control the entire time.
“Get naked and lie down on the bed,” Cas commanded, beginning to remove his own clothes.
Dean had fewer clothes, obviously, but it still seemed to take Cas far longer to get naked. Dean would have been disappointed, had it not been for the hot as fuck strip show that meant he got to watch. With every new patch of Cas’s tan skin that was revealed, Dean could have sworn his temperature rocketed up ten degrees or more. By the time he was fully naked, Dean was fully erect and far from complaining about the wait.
“Fuck. You’re ten times hotter than I thought. And I already thought you were plenty hot.”
Cas looked like he might dispute Dean’s claims, but it was difficult to deny the hard evidence presented to him in the form of Dean’s proud cock. Instead Cas licked his lips and ran his gaze hungrily over Dean’s naked body.
“At the risk of being seen as derivative, I feel the same way,” Cas said, stepping closer. “Fuck, I wish we had longer for this.”
“Oh, yeah?” Dean asked breathlessly. “Why’s that?”
“Because what I want to do is tie your hands and spend the next three hours worshiping your skin with my hands, lips, tongue, and teeth until you’re a sobbing, incoherent puddle of sexual desire and only then give you a taste of the cock you’ve been so desperately begging for.”
Dean attempted to respond, but only managed a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There’s a lock on the door for a reason. Or I could, um, text Sam. Tell him to stay gone for a while.” He licked his lips. “We could do th-the thing. That you said. If you, um, want.”
The grin that stretched across Cas’s face was that of a predator scenting prey. “Next time,” he said. “I think I’m a little too eager today to tease you for any length of time.”
“Oh, thank God,” Dean said, even though part of him was disappointed. Still, the promise of next time was music to his ears, even though they’d barely started.
Cas climbed up on the bed until he was on all fours over Dean’s body. He dipped down and kissed him, long and slow. Dean was able to get lost in it. He was vaguely aware that hands were roaming, but he wasn’t entirely sure how effective his moves were. He was tongue-drunk on Cas’s kiss and not the least bit ashamed of it.
He hadn’t noticed Cas lowering his body down, until that first sweet slide of his cock against Dean’s own. Cas bit Dean’s lower lip as Dean gasped at the burning sensation of Cas against his sensitive flesh.
“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, as Cas began a scaled down version of the body worship to which he’d alluded earlier.
“You taste divine,” Cas rumbled into the skin below Dean’s ear.
Dean whimpered in answer, trying to move his hands over Cas in return, but so lost in the pleasure Cas was giving him that he seemed to have lost some motor function. Finally, he gave up on exploration and just moved his hands down to cup Cas’s perfectly shaped ass, rolling his hips up as he tugged Cas down.
Cas let out a deep moan of enjoyment and left off his delicious torture of Dean’s neck to kiss him again. Dean reached over to the window sill, blindly fumbling for the bottle and packets he knew were there somewhere. Finally, his hand closed over lube and condom and he clumsily got them into Cas’s hand.
“You’re a gift,” Cas whispered against his lips, blue eyes heavily lidded and fully dilated with desire.
He kissed his way straight down Dean’s body, not even pausing to torment a nipple or nip at the skin of Dean’s belly. His kisses landed almost chastely against Dean’s cock, if such a thing was possible, in a straight line, still, and not pausing until he’d reached Dean’s perineum. To Dean’s utter surprise and infinite delight, Cas then attempted to suck a mark there—or so it felt to Dean—causing Dean to let out a high-pitched moan and draw his legs up, granting Cas more access to the area. He could feel Cas smile against the back of his thigh as Cas shifted sideways slightly.
Cas’s voice was slightly muffled by his position as he asked, “I doubt you were expecting to have sex today. Are you clean enough for me to start this with my tongue? Or should I just use my fingers?”
Dean’s laugh sounded slightly manic to his own ears, but he managed to answer. “I start every day hoping to have sex, Cas. I’m usually disappointed, but I’m also usually thorough in the shower.” He lifted his head to try and make eye contact and Cas looked up at him. “Please,” he added, not even caring how needy he sounded.
Cas bit into his thigh and sucked at it, growling. “You’re hotter than you have any right to be, Dean.”
Cas grabbed a pillow and helped Dean get it under his hips. Then he pushed Dean’s legs apart and up, and spread his cheeks, exposing his hole to the air. Cas pressed a kiss to it, then started to lick it with a fervor Dean usually reserved for cocks and strawberry popsicles.
Dean was pretty certain he was going to end up the sobbing, incoherent mess Cas had wanted, regardless. He also thought he might come before Cas even got around to using his fingers. Fortunately—or unfortunately—Cas didn’t linger on the task too long. One outstroke of his tongue became an instroke with his finger, and before long, two fingers were scissoring inside Dean, opening him up and driving him mad.
Cas didn’t skimp on the prep time, for which Dean was grateful. He’d intended to request it if necessary, but Cas didn’t stop until he’d worked up to four fingers and left Dean begging, as promised earlier. And then suddenly, Cas was sliding into him, stretching him, filling him, burning him up from the inside out.
“Oh, fuck,” Dean all but sobbed as Cas bottomed out.
Cas bent down and kissed him, pressing one of Dean’s legs up and forward until his knee was almost touching his shoulder. It changed the angle slightly, stretching him open just that bit more, allowing Cas just that tiny bit deeper—not to mention lining up that bundle of joy known as the prostate gland closer in line with Cas’s thrusts.
Cas varied his depth, so that Dean never knew from one roll of Cas’s hips to the next if he’d be hitting Dean’s prostate or not. Each time he did, pleasure shot out in all directions, sparking through him like a tiny bolt of lightning.
Nonsense poured from his mouth when Cas got too lost in the moment to kiss him anymore. Mostly it was swear words and Cas’s name and variances of “So good,” but some of it might not even have been English. Cas mostly kept his noises to inarticulate growls and moans, up until he got close to his orgasm.
“Dean, I’m close, tell me you’re close,” he panted out, grasping at Dean’s cock and stroking it roughly. “Come for me, Dean,” he said in a commanding tone whose effect was somewhat lost when he added a broken, “Please.”
That little whimper was what did Dean in, all the glorious sensations in his body drawing inward, tighter and tighter until it all exploded outward and he barked a sharp cry before coming all over his chest and Cas’s hand. Seeing that made Cas’s eyes go wide and then roll back as he too lost any attempt to stave off his orgasm.
To Dean’s surprise, he pulled out quickly, ripped off the condom and jerked himself to completion over Dean’s stomach. He stroked himself slowly through the dwindling tremors, until his head became so over-sensitized that he doubled up slightly and gasped. Sweat was beaded all over his face and it too dripped down onto Dean’s skin.
“Fuck!” he said before flopping over on his back next to Dean.
Dean, who was starting to recover his composure, turned his head toward Cas and jokingly asked, “Did you pull out so I wouldn’t get pregnant?”
Cas gave a surprised snort that turned into a soft, exhausted laugh that shook his whole body.
“Naturally,” he said after his laughter had died down a bit. Then he shrugged. “I told you I was on the pill, but you never said.” He turned to Dean and shrugged.
Dean looked back up at the ceiling. They lay there in hot, tired silence for a few minutes before Dean turned his face back to Cas.
“So, you mentioned something about next time? How soon you think we should schedule that momentous event?” Dean asked, hoping like hell Cas wasn’t going to change his mind.
“As soon as—”
“Dean? Cas? I’m home!” Sam shouted from the other room. “Guys? Guys?” he called, his voice getting more concerned. “Why is there uneaten food just sitting here? Tell me you didn’t!”
Dean and Cas turned to each other and tried to hold in their laughter.
Then next thing they heard was Sam trying the door to Dean’s room and then an angry, “Son of a bitch!”
Cas smiled at Dean. “I think perhaps we should give your brother some time to recover from the initial event, but let’s not wait too long.”
“So, ten minutes?” Dean asked with a cheeky grin.
“Dean, I am going to kill you!” Sam shouted through the door.
“Mm, better make it twenty,” Cas said.
“Cas, I expected more from you, man!” Sam called out from somewhere further away than outside the door.
“Nah, he’s getting over it already,” Dean said.
“I’m going to Jess’s for the night! I hate you, Dean!” Sam called from the other side of the door.
“We’ll miss you every second you’re away, Sam,” Cas called back.
“I hate you both!” he said, punctuating the statement with a slam of the front door.
Dean looked down at himself and chewed his lip as he contemplated. “Shower first?”
Cas grinned. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Change of plan, though. Three hours no longer seems like the right amount of time.”
“What?” Dean asked, disappointed.
“Well, I mean, why leave it at just three when we’ve got all night?” That feral, predator look was back on Cas’s face.
Dean swallowed dryly. “You make a good point.”
“And you,” Cas said, leaning in for a kiss. “Make an excellent lover,” he whispered.
Dean smiled and kissed back.