Archive of Our Own

Dean feels so out of place it makes him physically sick. The flickering lights are making him dizzy, the music is too loud and definitely not his cup of tea. The air is hot and heavy thanks to all the people crowding in the small space. Dean had never seen so many men dancing at the same time. He also hadn't seen so much glitter and sequins. It only makes him more insecure about his jeans and button-up shirt. At least Charlie told him not to wear plaid. Most of the guys here are scantily glad, showing off ripped bodies. They look like a different species to him. He immediately feels guilty for the thought, but he knows he won’t be able to approach any of them. At least not while they’re in a group, he needs to be like a lion and find a lonely pray.

He looks around and sees the brightly lit bar. Taking a deep breath he starts his way through the crowd. Once he’s entered the rabbit hole, he might as well fall the whole way down.

As he approaches the bar counter he starts breathing more easily, relieved that this part of the club is emptier.

There’s just one guy sitting on a barstool, sipping from a beer bottle. There’s a possibility he’s some loser but at least he’s fully clothed and not wiggling his butt on the dance floor and Dean has to start somewhere, right?

He sits on the barstool, leans against the counter and looks at the guy. His heart skips a beat because wow, he’s really attractive. He has thick dark hair that looks like someone just ran their hand through it, high cheekbones and sharp jawline with a five o’clock shadow.

Dean mentally cheers himself, he can do that, he can hit on a guy.

"Waiting for someone?" he asks. Wide surprised eyes snap to him. Are they really that blue or is it just a reflection of the lights?

"What?" the guy blinks at him. He doesn’t look offended though so Dean leans closer, speaking into the guy’s ear.

"Are you waiting for someone or may I buy you a drink?"

The guy turns his head so he’s looking at Dean, considering him. Dean notices a soft smile tugging at the corners of his wide lips.

"I’ll have a whiskey, thank you," he says. Now when he’s closer, Dean can appreciate his voice, deep and husky.

Dean turns to the bartender and orders two shots of whisky, then he looks back at the guy who’s staring at him shamelessly.

"I’m Dean," he says, offering a hand.

"Castiel." His grip is firm and his skin warm as he shakes Dean’s hand.

"Interesting name. Foreign?"

They need to lean closer to each other to be able to hear anything over the music. The closeness makes it possible for Dean to smell the guy’s cologne. It’s nice, spicy and warm.

"No, it’s angelic."

Dean raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I knew I was lucky to meet a guy like you, but I didn’t know you’re an actual angel."

That was surprisingly smooth, Dean mentally high-five's himself as Castiel huffs out a laugh.

Dean raises his glass and takes a sip. If he sees correctly the guy is blushing a bit, hiding it behind his own glass.

"So, Cas, how comes you’re not dancing?" Dean asks gesturing to the dance floor. Cas turns to look at the crowd and their knees brush.

"I wasn’t in the mood. What about you?"

"I’m not much of a dancer," Dean admits. "I can slow dance when I’m forced to. You know, two steps to the right, two to the left. Not this- "he motions to the people grinding against each other to the beat.

Cas smirks, but doesn’t say anything, just takes another sip of his drink.

Dean panics a bit, afraid that the conversation got stuck. He was doing fine and he likes the guy, he doesn’t want him to lose interest.

"So, do you come here often?" He immediately feels stupid, but Cas doesn’t seem to care. He shrugs one shoulder.

"It depends. I don’t spend every night here, but I come when I have time and when I don’t feel like staying home alone, watching TV."

Dean grins, picking up the hint that Cas is single.

"What about you? I’ve never seen you here before."

Dean’s smile falters and he feels his cheeks warm up.

"Uhm, I... I have never been here before," he answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Really?" Cas raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah... Uhm, it’s actually my first time at a place like this."

He feels his throat tightening as Cas remains silent, tilting his head and squinting at him.

"Dean, are you straight?"

Dean opens his mouth and shuts it again, his heart beating fast like he’s been caught red-handed.

It’d be pointless to lie; Cas is staring at him like he can see right into his soul.

"Look, I’ll tell you the truth. Please don’t get mad at me."

Castiel frowns, crossing his arms across his chest. "I can’t promise you that."

Dean sighs. "Okay. So I’m not gay. But my annoying little brother was like how can you know you don’t like guys if you never tried to sleep with one. He’s been bugging me with that, daring me, so I thought okay, I’m gonna shut his mouth."

He tries to laugh it off but his laughter dies in his chest when he sees Cas’ serious expression.

"So I’m supposed to be your experiment?"

Dean’s full on blushing now.

"Uhm, yeah, basically."

"Why me? Do I look like an easy prey?"

Dean curses internally. Cas is pouting a bit, it’s kinda cute. Dean finds himself willing to do anything to get that look off of his face though.

"No!" Dean raises his hands in a placating gesture. "No. You... you looked like someone who wouldn’t punch me in the face if I told you the truth." He offers a weak smile, but it doesn’t seem to work.

"Don’t be so sure about it," Cas growls, turning away, finishing his drink and waving at the bartender for another.

"Look, Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to offend you. I like you, you know? And you’re attractive. And I get if you don’t wanna have anything to do with me after what I just told you, but I’d be really glad if we could carry on as friends. Because as you noticed, I’m not in my element here and talking to you was fine."

Dean startles as Cas turns to him, a dangerous sparkle in his eyes.

"So you changed your mind? You don’t want to fuck me to establish your sexuality?"

"I...ugh..." Dean stutters, taken aback, afraid that whatever his answer is it will only make Cas angrier.

"I suppose you don’t want to. But if you wanted to-"

Cas purses his lips, eyes running over Dean’s body.

"I have a condition."

Dean’s heart stutters. Does that mean Cas would be willing to leave with him?

"Spill."

"You’ll dance with me."

"Oh," Dean breathes, taking in Castiel’s daring look. He clenches his teeth, knocks the rest of his drink back and stands up.

"Okay, let’s dance," he says, offering his hand to Castiel.

It’s not that Dean can’t dance, he just doesn’t know how, so he finds himself standing awkwardly among the dancers, Castiel grinning at him.

"Just relax, Dean! Nobody gives a damn if you make a fool of yourself!" Cas shouts at him over the music and then starts to do the most ridiculous dance moves ever possible.

It punches a whole body laugh out of Dean and a minute later they’re beating each other up in who comes up with crazier moves.

He doesn’t even care that other people are looking at them, some amused, some disgusted and a few of them seem interested in Dean. It makes him equal parts flattered and uncomfortable.

Then the music slows down and the atmosphere shifts, most of the dancers pair up, pressing their bodies close to each other.

Cas steps into Dean’s space. "Finally something for you, Mr. Slow Dance Only."

Dean’s muscles hurt from laughing and by the way he’s panting he can tell Cas feels the same.

Grinning, Dean grabs Cas’ hips, hauling him closer. It’s just a game, like their fooling around a moment earlier.

That changes when Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders and the atmosphere is suddenly too heavy, suffocating.

Dean feels too hot all over; maybe it’s from dancing, or all the bodies around him. Or it might be because of the way Cas is looking at him. He’s a bit shorter than Dean and it’s hard to shake off the thought that he would have to lean down just slightly to kiss those pink lips.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts by Cas’ voice right next to his ear.

"Let’s get out of here."

Dean’s heart makes a back flip.

"You sure?"

Cas nods and grabs his hand.

The cold air outside feels amazing on Dean’s flushed skin.

"So my place or yours?" he asks, trying to ignore the jitters in his stomach.

"It depends. Are you a serial killer?" Castiel tilts his head.

"No. At least I think so, but you know, I never killed anyone, so how could I know?"

Cas huffs out a laugh. "Did you just compared being gay to being a serial killer?"

Dean freezes. "Oh-I didn’t-"

Cas cuts him off with another burst of laughter. He pats Dean’s shoulder.

"Let’s go to your place," he says, eyes glistening.

"Wow, that’s yours?" Cas asks when Dean leads him to his car.

"Yeah, that’s my baby," Dean smirks, opening the door.

"Impressive,” Cas mutters and takes the passenger seat.

They exchange a few words about the car, Dean preening as he talks about how he takes care of her himself,but then they run out of words and a heavy silence settles over them.

Fortunately Cas breaks it before Dean can get too deep in thoughts about what’s going to happen.

"So you said your brother dared you, but what about him? Has he tried? Has he ever been with a guy?"

"He’s a college kid, he experimented. Says it was fun but he prefers girls."

"So is that what you expect to happen? You’re gonna sleep with me, it’ll be fun, but it will convince you you like chicks better?"

Dean sighs and his eyes flick to Cas before he fixes them on the road again.

"I expect that I’ll freak out halfway through it. So I’d like to apologize in advance if that happens."

He sees Cas’ smile in his peripheral vision.

"It’s okay, Dean. I wasn’t expecting to get laid tonight, so I wouldn’t be much disappointed."

Dean feels an answering smile spreading over his lips. He trusts Cas, which is weird, because he’s known the guy for like half an hour.

"Why did you agree to go with me?" he asks, genuinely curious.

Cas leans against the door, looking at Dean.

"You’re really hot. If I turn you" he makes quotation marks with his fingers. "It would be a great contribution to the gay community."

Dean snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. He must admit though, knowing for sure that Cas finds him attractive makes a warm feeling spread through his chest.

"And you were honest with me, I appreciate that," Cas adds, hesitating a bit before he continues."The last reason is that if you’re going to experience this just once, I want to personally make sure it’s as good as possible."

Dean chuckles. "Are you saying you’re the best possible choice to be my gay thing?"

"You bet your sweet ass I am," Cas grins.

The rest of the way to his apartment Dean’s relaxed. It feels like they’re just two friends hanging out.

He unlocks the door and lets Cas in. When the door shuts behind him and he’s about to ask if Cas wants a beer, the shorter man turns to him and with one hard push slams Dean against the door.

All Dean’s able to do is let out a sharp breath. His throat tightens, all alarms in his head going off. He wonders if he could take Cas down, the guy is stronger than he looks.

The intense way in which Cas is looking at him makes Dean shiver but fortunately Cas doesn’t look like he wants to hurt him. No, more like he wants to eat him alive.

"Still sure you want to do this?" Cas asks and now, when there’s no loud music to drown his voice, Dean can finally fully appreciate it. It’s gravel and honey and since when have male voices had such an impact on Dean?

Dean nods, realizing that his heart isn’t beating like crazy out of fear, but excitement.

Cas’ expression softens, getting less predatory but his stare is still setting Dean’s skin on fire.

Cas raises his hand and cups Dean’s cheek. Dean doesn’t realize his lips are parted until Cas is running the pad of his thumb over his lower lip.

"So this is going to be your first kiss with a guy, right?"

Dean’s brain must have short-circuited, because he seems to have no control over his mouth.

"I kissed Aaron Baas when we were ten, playing truth or dare."

Cas chuckles softly, closing his eyes for a moment.

"I don’t think that counts, Dean," he says, his eyes sinking into Dean’s again.

"No," Dean pipes up, realizing that he’s stalling. He must have turned ten again, because why would he be so nervous about a simple kiss?

"I’ll try to make it good then," Cas says and then he’s leaning in. Dean instinctively leans down just the fraction that’s needed for Cas to reach him.

Cas touches the tip of his tongue to the center of Dean’s upper lip first, then he presses their lips together, sucking gently on Dean’s lower lip. Dean would swear he’s not the one who makes the small desperate sound.

Cas pulls away too quickly, leaving Dean’s lips tingling.

"Okay?" he whispers, his hot breath brushing over Dean’s face.

"Yeah."

"Are you freaking out yet?"

Dean shakes his head minutely.

"Do you want more?"

Instead of an answer, Dean kisses him. It’s graceless, overeager, heated. Cas laughs into Dean’s mouth and takes the lead again, grabbing the back of Dean’s head, forcing him to slow down just a little.

It’s awesome. Cas’ lips are soft and his tongue does totally wicked things in Dean’s mouth.

Their hands roam, squeezing hips and biceps, tangling in hair, tugging at clothes.

Dean realizes his shirt is unbuttoned when Cas’s fingers brush over his nipple, making him gasp.

"Tell me if I’m going too fast," Cas mutters against Dean’s neck.

"What if I want you to go faster?" Dean growls, throwing his head back against the door, making space for Cas to suck at his pulse point.

Cas looks at him, grinning like a hungry beast and tugs at Dean’s belt.

Dean lets out a harsh breath, watching long fingers working the buckle, then unzipping his pants.

Castiel drops to his knees, dragging Dean’s pants down his hips. Dean bites his lip, looking down at the obvious bulge in his boxers. And then Cas is mouthing at his half hard cock through the fabric and Dean feels like his legs might give out under him.

Castiel hooks his thumbs under the waistband of Dean’s underwear and pushes them down.

The cold air touching his cock makes Dean hiss. Cas makes a pleased sound as he wraps his fingers around Dean’s shaft. For a moment he looks up into Dean’s face before he takes him in his mouth, swallowing him as deep as possible without preamble.

Dean’s eyes fall shut and his head thumps against the door.

He wonders how many cocks Cas has sucked, because wow does he seem experienced.

Dean moans, raking his fingers through the short strands of Cas’ hair.

A small voice in the far corner of his minds tries to tell him this should be weird because Cas is a guy but Dean doesn’t care. He’s too distracted by the perfect wet heat of Cas’ mouth, by how silky his hair feels between Dean’s fingers and how every time he moans around his cock the vibrations run through Dean’s whole body.

As abruptly as Cas started, he stops. He pulls away with a wet sound and stands up in front of Dean a bit awkwardly, if Dean had a spare brain cell to judge. All he can focus on are Cas’ lips, swollen and wet from sucking his cock. 

"So does your experiment include bottoming or is it enough if you fuck me?" Cas asks, startling Dean a little bit.

"Bottoming you mean like - oh." He averts his eyes feeling a blush creeping up his neck. To be entirely honest he doesn’t know if he can take that. On the other hand, maybe he should try it, because what if he likes it? The whole point of this is finding out, right?

"I...ugh... I don’t know?" he stutters, his cheeks beet red now. "Both maybe?"

To Dean’s relief Castiel’s smile is amused, but not mocking.

"So we have two rounds?"

"Two rounds, yeah," Dean breathes out.

Still smiling, Cas leans closer and nuzzles at his cheek.

"You’re cute when you’re blushing," he whispers.

Dean makes a disgruntled sound because no way he’s cute, but he also leans into the touch because the scrape of Cas’ stubble against his own feels delicious.

"I’d like to see your bedroom now," Cas says and Dean nods.

He takes off his shoes and socks and steps out of his pants and underwear while Cas gets rid of his own shoes. Then Dean grabs Cas’ hand and leads him to the bedroom.

"It will be easier if you’re on top first," Cas says on the way, like they’re discussing what they’ll have for dinner. Yeah on top, that sounds good, like he’ll have some control, which is good because right now he feels like everything is slipping out of his grip.

"Nice place," Cas says as they step to the bedroom and before he can say anything more, Dean is kissing him.

"This is really unfair," he growls against Cas’ lips, reaching for the button of his jeans.

Cas chuckles and pulls his shirt over his head while Dean works his fly open.

Dean’s eyes slide over Cas’ naked torso and his stomach ties itself into knots. Looking at Cas’ lean muscles Dean suddenly feels self-conscious about his own body. Yeah he has muscular arms and chest but his tummy is a bit pudgy. Cas’ tum is flat, his hipbones protruding and Dean can even see his ribs.

Cas must notice the pause in Dean’s actions, but he doesn’t comment it. He pushes Dean’s shirt off his shoulders and when Dean hunch on himself, Cas leans down and swipes the tip of his tongue over Dean’s nipple playfully, making Dean laugh. He pushes the shorter man away and Cas tumbles on the bed.

Dean runs his hands up Cas’ shaven legs, wondering if the guy does any sport, probably running. He doesn’t ask though, because Cas cuts off his train of thoughts by bending his knees and exposing himself.

"What’s that?" Dean asks, his brows drawn together in a curious frown.

"A plug," Castiel answers, propping himself up on his elbows so he can look at Dean who seems unable to rip his eyes off Cas’ stretched hole.

"You were wearing this the whole time?" Dean asks, finally looking at Cas.

"Yeah. It makes me feel good. Besides it saves time needed for preparation," he adds with a smirk.

"You said you hadn’t been expecting to get laid."

"You never know."Castiel shrugs and lies back folding his arms under his head and waiting for Dean to continue examining his body.

Dean bites his lower lip and nudges the base of the plug with a finger.

"Dean!" Cas gasps.

Dean doesn’t react, totally entrailed by the sight of Cas’ hard cock giving a twitch, precome pearling on its tip.

Castiel watches him for a moment, studying Dean’s wide eyes and parted lips, his chest heaving with shallow breaths.

"Touch me," he prompts in a soft voice.

Dean jerks a bit, startled, his eyes flick to Cas’ face and back to his crotch. His hand is shaking when he tentatively wraps his fingers around Cas’ cock.

He expected touching another man to feel the same as touching himself and in a way it is, but at the same time it’s totally different.

"Firmer, I won’t break, Dean."

Dean nods and tightens his grip as he runs his fist up and down Cas’ length.

Cas lets out a soft content sound which gives Dean confidence to try some of the things he likes being done to him like brushing his thumb over Cas’ slit.

The moans he earns go straight to his own cock.

"Dean," Cas sighs, "take me in your mouth."

Dean freezes. "What?"

Cas sits up, looking agitated and apologizing.

"I mean if you want to. You don’t have to, of course you don’t, I just thought-"

"What did you think?" Dean asks, his hand slipping off of Cas’ cock and curling into a fist on Dean’s thigh.

The blush on Cas’ face is a bit surprising.

"You have such beautiful lips I thought... I bet they would feel great around my cock." His eyes are dark and soft, looking at Dean with earnest.

The admission makes something flutter under Dean’s breast bone.

He wets his lips with his tongue and notices Cas trailing the movement with hunger in his eyes.

Dean’s nervous about sucking him, but he’s here to try new things, right?

"Okay," he breathes out. "I want that."

Cas doesn’t smile, just stares at Dean with anticipation and waits for him to position himself between his legs.

Dean hears Cas take a deep breath as he runs gentle fingers through Dean’s hair. He grips the base of his cock and guides it towards Dean’s mouth. Trying not to shiver with nerves, Dean leans in and presses his lips to the flushed tip giving it an oddly chaste kiss. Cas’ breath hitches, encouraging Dean to swipe his tongue around the head before sucking it into his mouth.

"Yes," Cas sighs, throwing his head back, his hands curling in the sheets. "Even better than... than I thought."

Dean lets Cas’ cock slip off his mouth just to grin brightly. It wasn’t half as bad as he expected, the weirdness of it was worth the feeling of power it gave him.

With that thought he closes his lips around Cas again and tries to take more of him in.

"Easy," Cas breaths out, his fingers tangling in Dean’s hair and guiding him to find a rhythm.

Drool is running down Dean’s chin, his lips start to burn and his neck aches, but he doesn’t care because he can feel the pornographic sounds Cas makes and he clings to those sinful hips and it’s awesome. Then somewhere out of the haze filling his mind an idea occurs and Dean lets his hand wander, feeling the firm curve of Cas’ ass. His fingers find the plug and tug at it, pulling it just a fraction out only to push it back in.

An animalistic groan rips its way out of Cas’ throat and his hips buck up, making Dean choke a bit, but he doesn’t care, just breaths through his nose and swallows around Cas while using the plug again.

This time Cas whines, his body twitching.

"Stop," he pants, tugging at Dean’s hair. "Dean please stop."

Dean pulls away immediately and wiping spit off his lips looks at Cas.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks, chest tight with anxiety.

Cas lets out a breath, relaxing into the mattress, then chuckles a bit.

"No, no, you were good. Too good. I don’t want this to end prematurely." He lifts his head and looks at Dean. "I want to come with you inside me."

Dean has heard these words before, but he would swear they never affected him like this before.

He climbs up Cas’ body to press a quick kiss on his lips, then reaches for the lube and condom waiting on the bedside table.

"You’re prepared," Cas chuckles.

"Yeah I had a clear plan," Dean grins.

While he rips the condom open and rolls it down his cock, Cas takes out the plug and lubes his fingers. Dean watches him making sure he’s prepped enough.

"Are you nervous?" Cas asks, his voice a bit breathy as he’s stretching himself on three fingers.

"I’m not the one going to take it up the ass," Dean says.

"I love taking it up the ass."Cas winks whipping his hand into the sheets before pulling Dean down to him.

Dean chuckles and shakes his head, unable to believe his luck. When he went to the club he expected (and kind of hoped) he wouldn’t find anyone. And now he’s here with this gorgeous guy who’s okay with Dean’s little experiment and also is some kind of sex god judging by the way even the smallest of his touches lights up Dean’s nerves.

Cas wraps his arms around Dean’s neck and kisses him, rolling his hips in silent encouragement.

Dean looks him in the eyes, checking for consent one last time before pressing the tip of his cock against Cas’ hole and slowly pushing in. Castiel squeezes his eyes shut and Dean stops moving in fear of causing him pain. Then Cas’ face relaxes and he lets out a long sigh.

"Are you okay?" Dean asks, surprising himself by how shaky his voice sounds.

"More than okay," Cas smiles up at him. "C’mon, Dean, fuck me," he whispers, wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer.

Dean pushes deeper, muffling his moans in the crook of Cas’ shoulder.

It’s hard for him to set up a rhythm; he’s overwhelmed by the feeling of Cas enveloping him, by the need to get more.

Castiel feels the same if the moans of "good" and "more" are anything to go by.

Dean feels fingernails digging into the skin on his back and wonders if they’re going to leave marks. He wouldn’t mind, it would be nice to have a reminder of this.

He feels warmth coiling low in his belly and his thrusts get faster when Cas squeezes his shoulder.

"Wait," Cas chokes out like he’s fighting himself.

Dean comes to a halt immediately and looks down at Castiel, confused and worried. Cas gives him a placating smile and disentangles his legs from Dean’s waist only to hook them over Dean’s shoulders.

"Wow, you’re flexible," Dean comments the new position, rubbing the back of Cas’ thighs.

"Yoga," Cas breathes, "I’m a yoga instructor.

Dean frowns. "You didn’t tell me."

"You didn’t ask," Cas replies impatiently. He’s right, they can chat later. When Cas moved, he caused Dean to pull almost all the way out so he thrust back in, slow but hard. His mouth falls slack when the new position blows his mind.

"Cas," he moans, "so deep."

Cas just throws his head back and fucking purrs like a giant cat and Dean can’t but kiss his bared throat while grinding his hips against Cas’ ass.

They are so close, so tightly wound that Dean wonders if they’ll ever be able to disconnect. He’s not sure he wants to.

Their lips are pressed together but more than a kiss it’s just sharing each others breath. Then Cas moans into Dean’s mouth, a high pitched voice that sends shivers down Dean’s spine. He looks Cas in the eyes, the blue in them is almost swallowed by the black of his pupils and Dean feels like he might get swallowed too.

"Right there," Cas says, his voice equal parts whiny and commanding. "Don’t stop, Dean, please don’t stop."

Dean didn’t intend to stop, ever. He rests his forehead on Cas’ shoulder and tries to hit the same spot, feeling immensely satisfied when he succeeds because the way it drives Cas crazy is the best reward ever. Not that he’s not going crazy. His whole body feels like a live wire, pleasure is making his blood boil. He lets himself get lost in it, maybe for the first time in his life and it’s only because of how unrestrained Cas is. He’s moaning and grunting, begging for more, not caring that someone might hear him or how he looks. And he looks perfect, skin shiny with a sheen of sweat, cheeks pink and hair a total mess. Dean, being a considerate lover, would normally be worried if his partner is enjoying themselves, if he does everything right, to fully let go. Not with Cas, with Cas he knows he can take as much as he wants because Cas is just loving it.

Dean’s thighs are starting to shake because of exertion and when Cas’ hand brushes over his nipple, he gasps for breath, gathering all his self-control not to come.

"I’m so close, babe," he whispers into Cas’ sweat-damp hair, the endearment slipping off his lips unnoticed.

"It’s okay," Cas pants. "Let go."

"No," Dean grunts. "Not before you," he adds wrapping his hand around Cas’ cock, flushed and leaking.

In a way of reply, Cas lets out a long whine and letches his lips to the pulse point on Dean’s neck.

Dean’s sure the sounds Cas makes as he strokes him, smoothing the way with his precome, will be filling his dreams for weeks.

A moment later Cas gives a whole-body shudder and comes with a broken cry, fingers digging into Dean’s shoulder and tugging at his hair. Cas clenches around Dean so hard it knocks him off the edge, the orgasm surprising him with its force.

He realizes he’s collapsed on top of Cas only when he feels gentle fingers rubbing the back of his neck. Cas’ legs slipped off Dean’s shoulder and he’s splayed under him looking like he doesn’t mind Dean’s weight crushing him. Dean fights back the want to let himself be lulled to sleep by the rise and fall of Cas’ chest and pulls out coaxing a disgruntled sound out of Cas. Dean looks at him guiltily, but the guy seems content, lying with a hand under his head, eyes closed, come cooling on his belly. Dean tears his eyes off him and sits on the edge of the bed. He slips off the condom, ties it up and throws it into a bin next to the bedside table.

His skin is still flushed, but now when he lacks the heat of another body, the cool air in the bedroom makes him shiver. Or maybe it’s the panic finally creeping up on him. He feels his chest tighten as he realizes what he’s done. It’s not that it was bad. It was good and maybe that’s the problem. It wasn’t the "I liked it but I can live the rest of my life without ever doing it again" kind of good. No, It was the "I can never get enough of this" kind of good.

That’s not what he expected and he doesn’t know what to do with it. Telling himself that there’s nothing wrong about it doesn’t help.

He feels the mattress rock as Cas sits up and his heart sinks even deeper because what if Cas asks if he liked it?

"I’m going to take a shower," Cas says instead. His voice is low and even huskier than before. It’s no wonder after how much he strained his vocal cords.

"‘kay," Dean nods, unable to look at the man.

Cas leans closer and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s shoulder. "Wanna join me?" he asks.

Dean looks at him. Cas is warm and soft and disheveled and Dean wants nothing more than wrap himself around this man and let the calm that emanates from him seep into his bones. Maybe he can allow himself that just for a little more, just until the sun gets up and the spell is broken.

"Yeah, I’d like that," he breathes out eventually and the smile Cas gives him is blinding.

Cas turns the water a tad bit too hot for Dean’s liking, but he doesn’t object. Pushing all his doubts and worries into a dark corner of his mind, he feels like a Cinderella on a ball - he wants to enjoy every moment of it because he knows it’s all going to turn into pumpkins and mice in the end.

He still touches Cas like he’s something precious, unique, tender fingers and soft lips trailing lean muscles and bones outlined under soft skin. Castiel seems surprised by it, not sure how to react. He lets out little puffs of breath and tries to press his lips to every part of Dean he can reach, trying to reciprocate but it’s hard with Dean determined to just worship his body.

Sometimes when Dean finds an especially sensitive spot, Cas shivers, his lips part and a soft "Dean" slips off them, but nothing follows like Cas is scared himself by the words that are hanging on the tip of his tongue. And Dean is glad for that at first, he doesn’t want to hear words that might have too much weight, he doesn’t want to get an offer he couldn’t accept.

But then Cas’ patience runs out, he grabs Dean’s hand that is drawing small circles on his hipbone and pushes Dean against the tiled wall. It seems like he’s intending to give back all the caress he got from Dean but in a much shorter time so it’s concentrated and transformed from slow and gentle into fierce and passionate. Teeth scraping and fingers leaving bruises.

With a moan Dean relaxes against the wall and lets it happen. The hint of pain is surprisingly satisfying, it kicks on his self-destructive side though. He wants it to hurt. He’s screwed up already so now it’s just go big or go home, right? Or maybe he’s still just a poor girl on her first night out and he believes that if he drops his glass slipper on the staircase he can make the bliss last longer.

"What about the second round in the morning?" when it’s out it feels like falling down a rabbit hole once again.

Cas, who’s been sucking a mark on Dean’s collar bone, looks up at him, utter shock in his eyes.

It feels like a punch in the gut and Dean is bracing himself for hearing a strict "no."

"You want me to stay the night?" Cas asks him and his disbelieving tone makes Dean understand that the man expected to be kicked out. That he too knew the ball was going to end when the clock strikes midnight and he wanted to get as much out of it as he could.

It lights up a spark of strange fondness in Dean’s heart, because even though it’s clear this is just for one night, Cas is already more than just a hookup. He’s definitely something Dean will never forget.

He wants to tell him, but he’s too much of a coward, he’s already walking on thin ice and if he starts talking about feelings he would drown in cold water.

So he just brushes the wet strands of hair off Cas’ forehead and nods resolutely.

It’s a bit awkward when they crawl into the bed next to each other. Dean wonders if Cas already regrets staying.

They lie silently on their sides of the bed, leaning against the headboard.

Dean starts to think that it was really a terrible idea to ask Cas to stay and that he should pretend he’s asleep or something, when Cas’ hand slides over the sheets and gently touches Dean’s hip.

Dean looks at him, he must look like a scared animal, but Cas doesn’t notice, he’s looking down at the space separating them.

"Dean, can I-?

"Yes!" Dean blurts out and shifts closer, happy that Cas immediately reaches for him.

As they curl close in each other’s embrace, limbs intertwined, Dean feels like he just emerged from underwater and can finally breathe.

Dean wakes up to that strange state when you don’t remember what happened before you went to bed. You’re just really happy you made it here because you’re comfortably warm and everything is good. At least until your memories start coming back to you. In Dean’s case it’s when he feels hot breath on his neck and a hand loosely draped over his chest.

He blinks his eyes open to see Cas snoring softly, lying halfway on top of Dean. Dean’s heartbeat quickens and he expects himself to freak out but instead, he just stares at Cas’ peaceful face and feels nothing but fondness.

He’d be able to spend all day like that, but he needs to pee so he gingerly twists out of Cas’ embrace and goes to the bathroom.

When he comes back Cas is tangled in the sheets, face buried in the pillow still fast asleep. Dean doesn’t have the heart to wake him up so he opts for making  breakfast.

There’s nothing much in the fridge so he just makes coffee and reheats yesterday’s muffins. When he returns to the bedroom, one blue eye blinks at him sleepily from a cocoon of sheets.

"Good morning, sunshine," Dean grins, setting the tray with the breakfast on the bedside table.

"What’s the time?" Cas asks, muffled by a pillow.

"Nine," Dean says, unable to fight back a fond smile.

"That’s not morning," Cas replies, but rolls to his back so at least his face isn’t obscured anymore. There are pillow marks on his face which makes Dean huff out a laugh.

"Breakfast in bed?" Cas raises an eyebrow when he finally notices the food.

"Yeah, you didn’t look like you were going to get out of here so..."

Cas doesn’t even let him finish as he reaches for one of the muffins and stuffs it in his mouth, moaning around it in a way that makes Dean think of last night and his cheeks blush.

"Hey! You’re getting crumbles in my bed," he complains just to cut his own thoughts off.

"Sorry," Cas says with his mouth full, only sputtering more crumbles.

Dean snorts and grabs his own muffin. Castiel scoots over to make a place for him on the bed and Dean sits against the headboard.

"So, not a morning person, huh?" he asks handling Cas a mug of coffee.

"I hate mornings," Cas grumbles and rolls on his belly so he can sip the hot liquid. "I’m happy I don’t have to get up for work."

"Yeah, it sucks, but I got used to it."

"I still don’t know what you do."

"Uh." Dean takes a big gulp of coffee, scolding his tongue. "I’m a high school teacher. History."

Cas tilts his head and his eyes narrow. He looks like a confused kitten.

"When you said your brother was a college kid you made it sound like you didn’t go to college."

"Well I did, but I rather experimented with weed not with-"

"Cock?" Cas suggests with a smile.

"Yeah," Dean nods with a chuckle, he feels blood rushing to his cheeks again. "What about you?"

"Cock. And weed too, actually."

Dean huffs out another short laugh. "I was just asking if you went to college, but thanks for the details."

Cas grins. "I did. Religious studies."

Dean’s brows shoot up. "Religion? Really?"

"Why is it so surprising?" Cas asks in a tone that tells Dean to mind his words.

"Well, I ugh... you seem so... open-minded."

"First, you can be religious and open-minded. Second you don’t have to be religious to study religion even though a lot of people are."

"So why did you choose that?"

"Because of my mom," Cas answers and Dean recognizes the tone. It’s the same tone he slips to when someone asks him about his mom so he knows he should stop prying. To his surprise Cas continues without being prompted.

"I told you I was named after an angel."

Dean nods, he didn’t believe it in the bar, but believes it now.

"My name is the only thing that I have left of her. When I found out it was angelic, I wanted to know more. It felt like I had a connection with her."

"My mom died when I was four." Dean doesn’t know why he said that. Maybe to make Cas feel less weird talking about his mom. Maybe because he knows Cas won’t say the stupid compassionate bullshit people usually say.

"What happened?" Cas asks.

"Fire. I got Sam out and dad tried to save mom, but-"

Cas squeezes his hand, but doesn’t say anything. Dean is grateful.

"My mom died during labor. She came to the hospital when I was already on the way and she gave them a fake name. I never managed to find out who she was. But she managed to tell them my name was Castiel. I think my foster parents could have changed it, but they didn’t."

Dean feels his heart clench when he imagines not knowing anything about his mother. He has only a few hazy memories and his father’s stories, but it’s better than nothing.

"Were they good? Your foster family?" Dean asks, rubbing Cas’ knuckles with the pad of his thumb. He’s relieved when he sees a small smile spread on Cas’ lips.

"Yeah, they were very nice. They were told they’d never have kids and they felt really lucky for getting me. Then I got a younger sister. Mom, step-mom, says I was their good luck charm."

"Or an angel," Dean smiles.

"Yeah, she used to say that too. She changed her mind. I was a difficult child."

"I can imagine," Dean chuckles, poking at Cas’ side teasingly.

Cas grabs his hand and pulls him down then flips them so he’s on top, pinning Dean to the mattress.

"So do you have any special teaching techniques Mr.- fuck I don’t know your last name," Cas breaks into laughter, leaning his forehead on Dean’s chest.

"Winchester," Dean answers with a fond smile.

Cas looks up at him, his eyes pausing for a moment on his lips before settling on his eyes.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester," Cas says in a low voice.

"Pleasure is all mine Mr.?"

"Novak."

"Castiel Novak?"

"Hm," Cas hums and leans down to kiss Dean’s lips. Dean lets him lick into his mouth and tastes coffee and chocolate on his tongue.

"So, do you wear tweed jacket and button-ups?"

Dean blushes a little. "Yeah, I even wear glasses."

"Nice," Cas purrs, nibbling at Dean’s jaw.

"So yoga, huh?" Dean tries to play the same game. "Can you suck your own cock?" He wants to punch himself the moment the words leave his mouth, but fortunately Cas doesn’t seem offended even though he rolls his eyes.

"If I got a dollar every time somebody asks me that," he grumbles.

It’s kinda adorable. Dean chuckles, suddenly not feeling embarrassed by his own question at all, on the contrary, Cas’ grumpy expression encourages him.

He tilts his head so he can look Cas in the eyes despite Cas’ bowed head.

"So can you?"

"Well, yeah," Cas sighs and Dean’s mouth falls slack.

"But it’s because of a back condition and I’m not supposed to do it because I could get stuck so I’m not gonna show you," he hurries to add.

"Hm, I don’t need to see it, my imagination is enough."

Cas raises an eyebrow. "You’re gonna think of me when I’m gone?"

Dean freezes. He’s not supposed to. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. He should say it was fine but not so great that he would switch teams.

A small voice in his head is telling him it would be a lie and every minute he’s with Cas it’s harder to stomp it down.

Cas must have interpreted Dean’s expression differently, because his face darkens and he sits back on his heels.

"I should go."

"No!" Dean blurts out, grabbing Cas’ forearm. "I mean... do you have to?"

Cas shakes his head."No but-"

"You promised me round two."

Castiel frowns. "You really want that?"

Dean takes in a shaky breath and considers it. He doesn’t know. He’s pretty scared that he won’t be able to take it, but he feels like he should try.

"I’m pretty scared," he admits. "But I feel like I should in the sake of my little experiment. And it’s now or never, you know? Because I’m not gonna pick up another guy."

An unreadable expression flicks over Cas’ features before his lips curl into a small smile and he lies down next to Dean, propped on one elbow.

"What are you scared of?" he asks softly, his hot breath tickling Dean’s neck.

Dean folds his arms behind his back and sighs. He keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he answers.

"That it will hurt? That I’ll freak out and tell you to stop before anything actually happens?"

"You can tell me to stop anytime and it will be okay. There’s nothing wrong about it."

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. "I know but-"

He feels Cas press closer, the warmth of his body soothing. His lips brush against the sensitive skin of Dean’s neck as he whispers.

"I promise I’m going to take it slow. I’ll be gentle with you. I want to make it good. No matter if I’m the only one you’re ever gonna do it with or not, I want you to remember me."

Dean’s whole body shivers. He opens his eyes and reaches for Cas who’s already leaning in for a kiss. Dean clings to him the whole time they’re kissing. It feels like an eternity, yet it’s not enough. When they part, they are both panting and half hard.

"Dean, have you ever-" Cas starts but trails off, distracted by the sound Dean makes when Cas’ fingers graze his nipple.

He hums and sucks the hard nub into his mouth, making Dean squirm. Dean rakes his fingers through Cas’ hair, tugging lightly at the longer strands.

"What?" he tries to guide Cas’ mind back to what he was talking about, hopeful that he’ll stop teasing him.

"Tell me; have you ever teased your hole," Cas says between peppering Dean’s chest with feather-light kisses.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat, his cheeks burning.

"I- yeah. I have," he stutters

Cas looks up at him, chin rested on Dean’s sternum, eyes curious.

"I had a girlfriend who... liked to...uhm use her finger, when she was blowing me," Dean explains, not looking at Cas. He’s sure he must be beet red.

He feels Cas’ smile when the man nuzzles at his neck.

"Did she push a finger inside you?" Cas whispers into Dean’s ear.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and gives a weak nod.

Cas’ lips brush against the shell of Dean’s ear as he speaks.

"I bet you liked it."

Dean swallows thickly. "I did. I thought it didn’t make me gay or anything."

Cas snorts. Dean glances at him, then averts his eyes. If it was even possible, he would blush even harder.

"Well I guess the things we’ve done make me a bit gay."

Cas rolls his eyes.

"Don’t think too hard about it. You’ll have enough time to label yourself later." He kisses him on the lips, hard and almost chaste.

"Now turn on your belly, I’m gonna fuck your ass."

Dean huffs out a laugh that sounds a bit hysterical, but he obeys anyway.

He threw a pair of sweats on when he went to prepare the breakfast and Cas pulls them down.

Dean tries not to squirm, feeling exposed. But then he feels warm hands on his shoulders and soft lips pressed behind his ear and he relaxes a bit.

"Try to relax, Dean," Cas murmurs, rubbing his shoulders with skillful fingers. "I meant what I said. I’m not gonna hurt you, but I need you to trust me."

Dean nods, face hidden in a pillow. "I do."

"Good," Cas breathes out. His hands travel down Dean’s body working the kinks out of his muscles, making him melt into the mattress. He stiffens a bit when Cas reaches the curve of his butt. He skips it and continues kneading Dean’s thighs which isn’t much better. It just feels weird to be touched like that, on a part of his body that isn’t sexy at all. He writhes under Cas’ hands, trying to make him move somewhere more interesting, but Cas has none of it.

"Shhh," he soothes him, gently pressing his hips down. "I want to touch every inch of your body. Let me, please." There’s such a softness in his tone it’s disarming and Dean can’t but comply.

It’s actually quite pleasant. Cas’ hands massage his thighs and calves and move to the soles of his feet which doesn’t tickle as Dean feared, but it actually makes him moan.

When Cas’ hands are done with their work, his lips take the turn, following the same path in reverse.

Cas stops every time he finds a particularly sensitive spot, sucking and nibbling there, making Dean’s heart hammer against his ribs and his breathing harsh.

When he comes all the way up to Dean’s neck, Dean’s cock trapped under his belly is already aching, begging for release.

Dean thinks he can’t be more turned on, but then Cas presses against him, his cock hard against Dean’s thigh. Knowing that touching Dean like this makes Cas this aroused is intoxicating. Dean feels dizzy with the feeling of being wanted.

"Dean," Cas moans right next to Dean’s ear, hands dancing down Dean’s sides and over his hips. "I want to eat you out. Open you up with my tongue." His voice is almost whiny, like he’s begging for something he can’t live without.

Dean’s heart must have skipped a beat and it’s a bit hard for him to breath. He wants it. Asked Rhonda about it when she turned out to be open to experimenting in bed. The face she made prevented him from even thinking about it. And now Cas is begging for it.

"Dean?" it’s like Cas snapped out of a role, the sultry tone is gone and he sounds worried. "I’m sorry if that was too much."

"No, no," Dean sighs, shaking his head. He rolls to his side so he can look at Cas and realizes he’s shaking all over. Cas wraps his arm around Dean’s waist, anchoring him.

"I want it," Dean says, his voice breaking a little. "I want it real bad," he adds with an attempt for a smile that feels a bit awkward. Cas’ answering chuckles is nothing but fond. "But are you sure you want it?" Dean asks. He needs to make sure, thinking about Rhonda.

"Yes, Dean, I’m absolutely sure." He presses a soft kiss to Dean’s forehead and pushes himself up, sitting on his heels.

He squeezes Dean’s hip a little. "On your hands and knees."

Dean obeys, but his arms are shaking so much he’s afraid they might give up under him.

"Lean on your elbows, that will be more comfortable," Cas suggests, his hand sliding down along Dean’s spine as Dean bends. He’s more stable like this, also more exposed.

"So beautiful," Cas sighs and normally Dean would protest but he’s so out of it he doesn’t have the strength. He’s a ball of nerves and excitement, the situation he’s in is so surreal he has troubles believing it’s really happening to him and not just some fictional character he can watch from the outside.

Cas takes his time just kneading Dean’s ass cheeks, then pushes them apart. His hot breath brushing over the sensitive flesh makes Dean gasp. Cas drags a pad of his thumb over the puckered skin of Dean’s entrance before touching it with just the tip of his tongue. Dean moans, grateful for his position because otherwise he would fall on his face. Then Cas uses the flat of his tongue, it’s soft and wet and so hot Dean wonders how it’s even possible. The contrast with cool air when Cas pulls away is startling and Dean feels his hole clench, already asking for more.

"Dean? You have to talk to me. Do you like it?"

Dean swears internally, clutching the sheets. Of course he likes it, he likes it so much it scares him. Making him say it out loud is an unnecessary torture.

"I do," he growls. "For god’s sake, don’t stop."

Cas huffs out a laugh and then his lips are on Dean again working with such vigor Dean cries out.

Cas licks and sucks, alternating between soft touches and long licks. When he pushes in, Dean bites down on his wrist to stifle the sound that tears itself out of his throat.

Without realizing, he starts rocking his hips, grinding against Cas’ face. Cas tightens his grip on Dean’s hips and moans, the vibration of it running through Dean’s body.

He doesn’t know when Cas grabbed the lube and he’s too busy not losing his mind to care as a lubed finger pushes in along Cas’ tongue.

Dean draws in a harsh breath. It’s weird, it always is, but it’s a good kind of weird, exciting. He knows he needs to relax so he forces himself to breathe deeply.

"Good?" Cas asks, drawing circles with his free hand on the small of Dean’s back.

"Yeah."

Cas hums and starts to slowly pull his finger out only to push it back in. It’s a bit uncomfortable at first, but Dean’s distracted by Cas’ voice.

"You feel so good, Dean. So hot and tight. I can’t wait to feel you from the inside, to make you come on my cock."

Dean chokes out a sound that’s almost like a sob, his cock twitching hard. He’s not sure what affects him more, Cas’ finger working him open or his dirty mouth. Before he can collect himself, he feels a second finger pushing past his rim and oh.

"Dean?" He must have given some sign of distress, because Cas stops and there’s concern in his tone.

"I’m okay, just- give- gimme a second," Dean stutters. It’s hard to even breathe, not to mention talking.

Now it’s really uncomfortable. It burns a little, but it’s still the kind of pain that is on the borderline with pleasure. It makes Dean torn between wanting it to stop immediately and getting more.

"You’re doing so good, Dean." Cas’ voice is a deep rumble against his back as he reaches around him and wraps his hand around his cock. Dean draws a sharp breath and clenches around Cas’ fingers only to relax as Cas starts to stroke him and the pleasure subdues the pain.

"That’s it, babe, so good opening up for me like this," Cas praises, pushing his fingers deeper inch by inch. "You have no idea what you’re doing to me. The sounds you make..." He leans down to lick at Dean’s rim while still moving his fingers, drawing a loud moan out of Dean. "Just like that."

"Oh god, Cas," Dean cries out, rocking his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Cas’ fingers. A small part of him is afraid the fun will be over too soon because he’s getting too close to the edge. The rest wants nothing but release.

"Cas, Cas," he chants, his knuckles white from clutching the sheets so hard.

"What is it, Dean? What do you want?"

Dean’s not able of more than another broken sound. Then Cas’ fingers reach a spot that makes Dean’s vision white out. It’s like he’s touched a raw nerve and Dean’s whole body reacts violently, breath hitching, muscles tightening. He feels a drop of precome run down his shaft and drip on the sheets.

"There we go," Cas says, smile noticeable in his tone.

He uses Dean’s prostate to turn him into an incoherent mess and then, the son of a bitch just stops.

"Dean, do you want more?" What a stupid question is that? Dean opens his mouth, but Cas cuts him off. "It’s okay if you say no, I can make you come like this. We don’t have to go any further."

Dean takes a deep breath, trying to clear his mind at least a little.  He wants to come, that’s for sure, and he’s not sure he can take more, but does he want to? Definitely, because if it feels so good with just Cas’ fingers, how amazing it must be with his cock? Besides he wants Cas to enjoy himself too.

"I want you to fuck me," he says on an exhale. To his surprise, Cas lets out a soft moan, leaning his head against Dean’s back.

He adds more lube, scissoring and bending his fingers, stretching Dean open. 

Despite how much he likes it, Dean grows impatient soon. His body is aching from the unnatural position and he feels like he might lose his mind if he doesn’t get more right now.

But no matter how much he begs, Cas insists on doing it right and takes agonizingly long to fuck him with three fingers.

When he finally pulls out, Dean regrets asking for it. He hisses with pain, suddenly not sure anymore if he wants anything to touch his ass ever again.

Cas makes quick work of rolling a condom on his cock and slicking it up with lube. Then he’s pressing against Dean’s rim.

"Dean, are you sure?"

"Yeah," Dean breathes out, "just take it slow, okay?"

"Of course, Dean." With that, Cas drapes himself over Dean’s back, the warmth of his skin soothing Dean, the weight of his body grounding him. He presses a kiss to the top of Dean’s spine and slowly pushes in.

Dean’s vision blacks out, all the air leaves his lungs in a one harsh exhale.

Cas stops, giving him time to adjust, just the head of his cock breaching Dean.

"It’s so big," Dean moans. He thought it wouldn’t feels so different from three fingers, but he actually thinks he might snap in two.

"I’ll take that as a compliment," Cas mutters, nuzzling at the back of Dean’s neck. "But if you want me to pull out-"

"Just shut up and fuck me, Cas," Dean growls.

"I can’t, Dean, you need to relax."

"I’m trying!" Dean snaps, his throat tightening like he’s about to cry.

"Shhh." Cas’ hand starts to slide up and down Dean’s back. "You’re doing good, Dean," he says, voice deep and soft, whiskey and honey. "You’re so beautiful. I wish you could see what I see. Your pretty hole stretched around my cock. I think I could come from the sight alone."

Dean moans, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head drop on his forearms, but at the same time he feels himself relax.

"And as much as I want to come, I wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. Feeling your warmth around me, touching you like this." He emphasizes his words with feather-like kisses peppered over Dean’s shoulders.

"Cas," Dean moans pleading, his body shivering at the soft caress.

Cas’s hand slide down Dean’s arm and finds his hand in the sheet. He laces their fingers together, squeezing them as he pushes deeper.

Dean wouldn’t recognize his voice as his own, making small whiny sounds, needy and desperate. Fortunately, he’s not too loud to miss the sound Cas makes as he bottoms out because the choked out sigh is something he’s going to replay in his head a million times.

Dean’s overwhelmed by how deep Cas is, how full he makes him feel. It’s like nothing Dean has experienced before. He always liked the kind of connection sex brings, but it was never like this. Being the one opening his body for his partner makes him feel vulnerable and powerful at the same time. It blows his mind just as much as it turns his body on.

As Cas starts to move, his hand stroking Dean’s cock in a rhythm matching his thrusts, all discomfort gives way to pleasure. Dean feels like floating, he has no control over his hips meeting Castiel’s or his mouth. He doesn’t even know if he’s just moaning and grunting, or screaming Cas’ name, he could be begging, he doesn’t care.

Cas is whispering praise into his ear, but Dean can’t make out the words, all he knows is that Cas’ voice breaks into a moan from time to time and that it’s beautiful.

"Come for me, babe." That Dean hears clearly, like he’s been waiting for those little words. He squeezes Cas’ hand and after a few more hard thrusts that nail his prostate, Dean is letting go.

For the first time in his life he understands why it’s called la petite mort. He feels shattered. The orgasm punches through him with such a force it’s bordering painful and he feels like he’s never going to recover from it. His whole body convulses and a spurts of white fall hotly on his belly and the sheets while Cas is still rocking into him. He hears a cry of his name and feels teeth sink into his shoulder as Cas’ hips stutter and he topples over the edge. It’s almost as satisfying as his own orgasm. Dean clenches around him like he wants to keep him there for the rest of days.

He’s gasping for breath, his body still thrumming, ears ringing, head dizzy when Cas pulls out. He’s gained enough consciousness to guess that Cas is getting rid of the used condom. Then there are strong hands on him, flipping him over and pulling him into an embrace. He lets out a content sigh and buries his face in the crook of Cas’ neck, tasting his sweat on his lips.

"Are you okay?" Cas whispers, out of breath.

"No," Dean moans because okay is really the furthers from how he feels. Cas stiffens in his arms and tugs at Dean’s hair to look at his face. Dean stares at him with eyes half-lidded, taking in his disheveled state. He frowns as he realizes that Cas doesn’t look just fucked out, but also alarmed.

"I’m good," he mutters and leans in to press his lips against Cas’. They’re plump and warm and Dean wonders how he survived so long without kissing them.

"Dean, do you hurt?" Cas asks, still in the concerned tone that Dean starts to hate.

"Hm," he hums, shifting closer to Cas, entwining their legs. He’s sore and his muscles feel like they are filled with lead and there’s a strong possibility he’s having a heart attack, but Cas is holding him so close that Dean can feel his heart beating wildly in his chest, and it makes everything bearable.

 "You should clean up," Cas suggests, rubbing Dean’s back.

"No," Dean grunts. "I’m not moving."

Cas lets out a soft chuckle. "Okay, but you’ll regret it."

"I don’t care." He feels Cas’ lips curl into a smile as he presses them to Dean’s forehead.

They lie in silence, basking in the afterglow, enjoying the closeness.

"Is it always like this?" Dean asks tiredly.

"It gets easier when your body gets used to it," Cas answers. There’s a hint of something that sounds suspiciously like guilt in his tone.

Dean shakes his head, his hair tickling Cas’ face.

"That’s not what I meant."

"So what did you mean?"

"Intense," Dean yawns.

"Hmm, no," Cas smiles. "It can be boring, or awkward."

"I don’t believe it," Dean slurs. "Not with you."

"Dean," Cas sighs. Maybe he says something else, but Dean doesn’t hear it, because he drifts off.

He’s woken up by Cas trying to disentangle their limbs without disturbing him. With a moan, Dean grips his arm and tries to pull him back.

"Dean, I have to go."

It’s like a cold hand squeezing Dean’s insides. All the cotton-like sleepiness immediately cleans off his mind.

"I’m sorry, I have a class at three," Cas explains apologetically.

"What time is it?" Dean sits up, stifling a groan as his body reminds him of their previous activities.

"Almost two."

"Wow," Dean huffs out. "That explains why I’m so hungry." He rubs his stomach that growls right on cue.

With hopeful eyes, Dean looks up at Cas, who’s buttoning his pants.

"You must be hungry too. I can cook something."

Cas shakes his head with a sad smile.

"I really need to go."

So that’s it. The ball is over. Time to go back to normal, boring, a little bit crappy life.

 Dean watches Cas dress in uncomfortable silence. Maybe he should say something, do something, but he feels stupid. This was supposed to be a one night stand, that was clear from the beginning. He can’t ask Cas for more, he shouldn’t even want it. He’ll just stick with the plan. He’ll keep the nice memory, maybe use it to get off sometimes, but nothing more. He’s straight, after all, Cas just somehow managed to confuse him. It crosses Dean’s mind that it would be easier if he hated Cas, but that’s impossible. As he watches the man head to the door, all he feels is sadness.

Cas stops in the doorway to give him a small wave and a soft "bye." Dean doesn’t even get up to follow him to the hallway.

He hears the door click and then Cas is gone for good.

"You look like a kicked puppy," Sam says the moments he sees him on their regular beer and burgers Friday night.

"Shut your mouth, Samantha," Dean growls flopping himself into the booth. "I just had a terrible week."

"What happened? Your students giving you hell?"

Dean frowns. He can’t really say what was wrong, just that everything felt shitty for no apparent reason. It felt like he lost the ability to feel joy.

"Not really. I’m just feeling a bit off. Must be the weather," he answers.

When he sees the look on Sam’s face he braces himself for a cross-examination, but for once in his life Sam lets it slip.

Dean gets a bit suspicious when Sam suggests they do shots, but hell getting drunk sounds really great right now.

It takes only a few shots of tequila until Dean is leaning against his brother’s shoulder and sigh dramatically.

"I made a mistake, Sam, the worst mistake of my life." He’s not exactly drunk, just tipsy enough to feel like sharing. He’s so tired of holding it in.

"What did you do, Dean? Whatever it is, you can tell me," Sam says, wrapping his giant arm around Dean’s shoulders.

Dean frowns a bit, fumbling with his empty glass.

"It’s your fault actually. You made me do it."

"What did I make you do?" Sam sounds suspiciously calm and sober.

"I’m straight, you know that. But you were nagging me about it. You were all ‘how can you know if you never tried’ so I did and now I’m screwed."

There’s a heavy silence, in which Sam’s eyes are burning holes into the side of Dean’s head.

"I’m totally screwed and almost definitely not straight."

"You, uhm, you tried it with a guy?" The slight hint of disapproval in the look he’s giving him sets Dean off.

"Yeah I did. You said you did it in college, so why are you looking at me like that?"

Sam averts his eyes. "I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. And yeah I told you I experimented when I was younger. But... it was just a few mutual hand jobs, maybe some dry humping. I never went all the way."

Oh. Dean’s stomach twists. He feels a bit betrayed even though he knows it’s stupid.

"Did you?" Sam asks, his voice soft. "Go all the way?"

"Yeah, all the ‘cock up my ass’ way," Dean says bitterly and knocks back the glass that has magically appeared in front of him.

He kinda enjoys the look on Sam’s face before he drinks his own shot.

"I hope you were care-"

"Oh, god, Sam!"

"Sorry, I needed to ask!"

"No, you didn’t, bitch."

"Jerk."

Sam’s lips curl up into a small smile and Dean feels his heart lighten a bit.

"So you liked it?"

Dean nods.

"You know there’s nothing wrong about it, right?"

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. He should have kept his mouth shut.

"That’s not the problem. I’m okay with being a bit gay, well I’m not okay with it but that’s not the reason why I feel like shit."

"So what’s the reason?"

Dean hesitates for a moment, trying to form his thoughts.

"I really liked the guy. So it’s hard to just ignore it and go on with my heterosexual life."

"Then don’t."

"What?"

"Don’t carry on with your heterosexual life. If you liked the guy, why don’t you give him a chance?"

Dean groans, throwing his head back, but Sam continues.

"Look I know you kinda suck at relationships, but maybe that’s it? Maybe you need to try something entirely different so why not a guy, now when you know you’re into guys."

"You don’t get it." Dean shakes his head. "For him, it was just a hookup. He’s not interested in dating me."

"That’s what he told you?"

Dean bites his lower lip. Cas’ words about how he wants Dean to remember him echo in his head.

"Ugh, no, he didn’t but-"

"But you have no sense of self-worth so it didn’t occur to you the guy might like you back."

"I don’t know! That’s the problem, Sam! I don’t know if he liked me. I don’t know if he’s even into dating, he seemed like someone who doesn’t want to settle down so I doubt he would want a relationship especially with a loser like me who doesn’t even know his sexual identity."

The amused smile on Sam’s face is so annoying Dean needs another shot of tequila.

"You know what normal people do in a situation like this?"

"No," Dean huffs out gesturing at the bartender.

"They ask."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, what a bit of wonderful advice, doctor Phil. The problem is I don’t have his number."

"But you know his name, right? I bet that if you really try, you can find him."

"Sam, this is not a soap opera. You know how desperate I would look?"

"Not more desperate than when you’re drowning your feelings in tequila."

Groaning, Dean drops his head on the bar counter. He has to admit Sam has a point

Dean feels like he’s having a Déjà vu. Exactly two weeks ago he was standing at the same spot at a gay bar, looking for a hookup. Now he’s looking specifically for Castiel and he’s possibly even more nervous than the last time.

Part of him expects to see Castiel sitting on the barstool, looking bored, but there’s no one sitting at the bar counter.

Feeling disappointed, he orders a beer.

"Are you looking for someone?" the bartender, a short guy with mischievous eyes asks.

"I am, actually," Dean says, raising his voice over the music.

"Ye high, dark messy hair, blue eyes. Looks like a nerd but is actually lightning in a bottle."

"You must be talking about Cas," the bartender smiles and Dean’s heart lurches.

"You know him?"

"Of course I do. He’s my cousin. But he didn’t show up for quite some time. Might be two weeks since I’ve last seen him."

Dean lets out a harsh breath. He doesn’t know if he’s disappointed, or glad that Cas didn’t come here right the next day to pick up another guy.

"Could you give me his number or tell me where he lives?"

The bartender tilts his head to one side. "I don’t think Cassie would be very happy about that. How do I know you’re not some kind of a psycho?"

"Oh come on," Dean groans. "I just really need to talk to him."

"That’s exactly what a stalker would say."

Dean sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is pointless. He shouldn’t have even come here. He blew his chance when he let Cas leave his apartment. If there ever even was a chance at all.

"But you know what?" Cas’ cousin snaps him out of his thoughts. "Maybe I might tell you where he works."

Dean’s buzzing with excitement as he opens his laptop the moment he gets home. He grimaces when the "Grace wellness and spa" website greets him with pastel colors and tinkling music, but then he clicks at the Yoga classes link and his heart skips a beat. The article is saying something about how amazing yoga is, but all Dean cares about is the picture of  "Our charismatic and experienced instructor Castiel."

It’s a photo of Cas sitting in a lotus position, all stubbly and messy hair with a bright smile on his face. Dean smiles too, this definitely isn’t the Cas he met at the bar, but it is much closer to the Cas who has been spread on his bed.

Dean scrolls down the page to see another picture, this time of Cas in front of a bunch of other people, all contorted in a crazy pose. The pose shows off Cas’ amazing body beautifully. Dean swallows, his body remembering how Cas felt under his palms. He lets out a resigned sigh admitting to himself that he has to at least try to convince Cas he’s worth the shot.

Normally Dean would happily flirt with each one of the ladies who pass him as he’s waiting in the reception of the studio, but he’s too focused on the fact he’s seeing Cas in a few minutes to care about any other hot bodies.

"Welcome to Grace, what can I do for you?" the redhead receptionist asks with a sweet smile.

"Hello, I ugh... I’d like to talk to Cas- Castiel. Is he here?"

"Yes, he’s preparing for his class. If you want to sign up for a sample lesson-"

"No, no thank you. I need to talk to him in... in a private matter."

"Oh." Understanding reflects in her eyes and her smile turns a bit mischievous.

"You can find him in the Sun room," she says gesturing to one of the doors down the hallway.

Dean forces his lips into a smile as he thanks her and heads to the door.

The moment he enters he understands how the room earned its cheesy name. The afternoon sun is coming through the huge windows, coloring the walls orange. There’s a huge sun-like mandala painting on one of the walls emphasizing the impression.

And in the corner of the room, casting a long shadow, sits Castiel. The butterflies that have been fluttering in Dean’s stomach explode the moment Castiel looks up at him.

"Dean?" he breathes out, looking confused.

It’s a good thing they’re alone, because Dean’s mind short circuits and the only thing he’s capable of is to blurt out: "Bisexual."

"What?" Cas’s expression turns even more shocked.

"T-the label," Dean stutters as he watches Cas push himself to his feet.

"The label is bisexual which means I like both chicks and guys even though I don’t really like guys, mostly just you, but that’s okay, because it doesn’t have to be 50/50, there’s a scale and you can be just one or two, but you’re still bi. So yeah, bisexual."

Dean realizes he said all of it on one breath and inhales deeply. Cas, now standing in front of him, is examining him with a tilted head.

"Why are you telling me that, Dean?"

Without his say-so Dean’s eyes drop to Cas’ lips.

"Because... because I came to ask you to date me and I wanted you to know it’s not another experiment."

He dares to look Cas in the eyes and to his surprise, he finds a hopeful spark in them.

"You want to date me?"

"Yeah," Dean breathes out with a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean the sex was amazing and I also really liked you so I thought that maybe you-"

He’s cut off by Castiel’s lips pressed to his. He lets out a small needy sound and wraps his arms around Cas’ waist.

"Is it a yes?" he asks against Cas’ lips.

"No. It’s a hell yeah," Cas grins and surges into another kiss.