Chapter Text
Dean was in the middle of shoving scrambled eggs into his mouth when Castiel emerged from the hall in his stolen Led Zeppelin t-shirt and poured himself coffee into his favorite mug—the one with the smiling bee on it that said “bee positive!” on it. Sam and Eileen were having bagels and reading the local newspaper they picked up on their morning run, choosing to drink water over coffee because it was “healthier.” Bah humbug!
When Cas plopped down in his usual chair, he waited a few moments before clearing his throat and speaking.
“I’ve decided that I am gay and I would like to go to Pride in Wichita.”
The room was silent for a few beats.
“That’s like four hours away,” Sam finally said at the same time Dean said “How do you know you’re gay?”
Cas answered Sam first. “Yes, I know. I would like us all to go and I would like to get a hotel.”
“When is it?” Sam rebutted, as if that was the most important aspect of Cas’s little outburst.
“This weekend, Saturday mostly. A few things on Friday and Sunday, so I wouldn’t mind getting in a little earlier and staying around some on Sunday if we can.”
“And you know it’s Tuesday, which might make finding a hotel a little difficult.” Sam sounded more like a parent concerned with logistics than anything.
“I have faith in you,” Castiel nodded.
“Thanks, Cas,” he chuckled and rolled his eyes.
“Well, I’m bi and I’m ready to fly!” Eileen chimed in, doing the sign for flying, “I love pride!”
Dean felt his stomach roll. Oh god this is really happening . They’re going to have to take Cas to Pride. Any chance he could weasel out of it?
“Can I just…not go?” Dean asked, then. “I have to…wash my socks or something on Saturday.”
His head filled with visions of what he would do with the bunker all alone if allowed—ala Risky Business .
“No, Dean,” Sam's voice was stern and forceful. “Cas is our friend. He wants us there to support him. That means we’re all going.”
Dean suddenly didn’t feel like finishing his eggs. He might have even muttered to himself something about “bullshit.”
“He’s an angel, for chrissake! How could he even be gay?”
“I’m sitting right here, Dean.” Cas glowered at him from his seat to the right of him.
“Well, aren’t angels sexless or something?” Dean tried to defend himself.
Cas shrugged, taking a sip of coffee before answering. “I’ve inhabited this physical form long enough that I’ve grown to identify with it. I have, of course, inhabited bodies of all different genders, but this one feels the most like me . It’s also the one I have spent the most time in. And, as such, I have also come to feel more human than I ever have before. Especially after my time as an actual human. That being said, I do not seem to find myself attracted to women, sorry Eileen, whereas I do find myself attracted to men.”
He said it so nonchalantly that Dean didn’t know what to say.
“Okay,” was the word he went with. Then, he got up from the table to scrape his remaining eggs into the trash, put the plate in the sink, and take his coffee back to his bedroom again.
Before he was completely out of ear shot, he was pretty sure he heard Sam say “Well, that didn’t go well.”
…
“Charlie, please save me,” Dean breathed into his phone in his room.
Charlie groaned. “Dude, what time is it? This better be life or death.”
“It is,” he grit out.
“Well, what is it then?” She still was not awake.
“I guess Cas is gay or whatever and he wants to go to Wichita for sure pride.”
“I knew it!”
“What?”
“I said ‘I knew it.’ Though, I would like to point out that this is not, in fact, ‘life or death,’ and I’m pissed off that you woke me up this early. When is the event?”
“This weekend,” Dean laid down across his bed.
“Okay,” she said, sounding a little distracted.
“Okay? Okay, what?”
“Okay, I just got a plane ticket and I’ll meet you guys there.”
“Charlie, when I said I needed help, I didn’t…”
“Dean, trust me. Have I ever steered you wrong?”
“I—”
“Have I ever steered you wrong? Answer the question. And remember how much you loved LARPing before you say anything.”
“You have a point there.”
…
“I’ve booked us two motel rooms in a cheap motel in Wichita for Friday and Saturday night,” Sam explained over the spaghetti dinner he made them a few nights later.
Dean had been sitting with the fear of this event looming over him. It was a pit in his stomach that was keeping him from sleeping and eating, making him a general all around unpleasant person to be around. He knew he sounded homophobic, but goddamn it he was uncomfortable. Regardless, he wasn’t dumb enough to pick a fight at dinner.
“I’m not going,” his big dumb mouth opened up and said anyway. Fuck . Why was he picking a fight?
“Dean,” Sam gave him the death glare of his life. “You’re. Going.” He grit it out like an angry parent fed up with their mischievous child, leaving no room for discussion.
Dean understood this finality from previous arguments, like their time in Purgatory, and didn’t even try to argue, just shoveled the spaghetti into his face to keep himself from trying again.
…
Dean wanted to take Baby to Wichita, but was out-voted by everyone else in favor of taking a car with air conditioning and more leg room. So, not only did he not want to be there, he now wasn’t even able to bring his car, his home, with him. He just had a sinking, terrible feeling in his stomach. How was he supposed to go on this trip? This was the most uncomfortable he’d ever been in his whole life. Maybe. Probably.
And, he had to sit in the back with Cas, since Sam was driving and Eileen was shotgun—she got carsick if she sat in the back for too long. His only option was to lean against the window with his headphones and check out while everyone else in the car enjoyed their trip with banter and snacks and nervous excitement. Dean was alone and carsick with nerves.
It was a long trip; he didn’t even pee when he needed to while everyone else did just out of pure spite and stubbornness. The pain in his bladder was a punishment.
…
When they pulled up to their motel, a single-story cinder block construction from the 70s at the latest, Sam let them all know there was a drag show at midnight at a gay bar and the parade was at noon the next day.
“We can definitely go, but I’m not holding anyone to it since we just had this four hour trip,” Cas said.
“Do you want to go?” Sam asked Cas.
“I do.”
“Then we’ll take you. Dean?”
“I’m tired,” Dean lied.
Sam didn’t argue with him. “Our rooms aren’t really near each other so let’s meet in front of the lobby at 11 and then we’ll make our way to the drag show.”
“Sounds good,” Cas nodded.
Sam gave them their two room keys and they made their individual ways to their respective rooms, silently.
Inside, Dean claimed the bed closest to the door and AC unit. He dropped his bag on the table and ran into the bathroom since he still hadn’t gone in the entire 4 hours. When he emerged, Cas was sitting on his own bed, back supported by pillows and legs stretched out straight in front of him, staring at the tv, which was muted. Dean was not gonna touch that with a 10-foot pole. He went to his own bed and flopped down on it, facing away from Cas.
“You won’t come with us?” Cas said calmly, though Dean could tell something was brewing.
Fuck .
“I’m really tired, Cas. I’m just going to fall asleep immediately. Go have fun.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Cas deadpanned, “I thought you were my friend.”
Dean felt his stomach twist tighter like a sharp dagger right into his guts. He wanted to cry, just a little. But men don’t cry (never mind all the times that he did—those were justified because the world was ending and shit. Apocalypses didn’t count). So, he tried to defend himself.
“Cas, I’m not being mean to you. And I am your friend.”
“You’re not acting like it. You’re being homophobic.”
And there it was. That word. The word. The one he’s been dreading but expecting.
“Cas, I’m just tired. I’m going to the parade and everything tomorrow. You don’t have to worry. Just go to the drag show and enjoy yourself.”
Cas didn’t argue, just put the volume up on the tv. It was Law & Order , an episode Dean had seen a dozen times in a dozen different motels across America.
At 10:30, Cas started getting ready to go. He put on a pair of shorts and a tank top Dean had never seen before. He wanted to ask where Cas got the clothes from, but he couldn't speak. There were at least two or three inches of Cas’s thighs sticking out of the shorts and his biceps were on full display. The shirt said “Y’all Means All.” It was…distracting.
Before Cas shut the door behind him, he took one last—imploring?—look back at Dean. It was a final, tacit plea for Dean to come along. Dean knew he was hurting Cas by not going but he just…couldn’t. He broke eye contact and stolidly stared at the tv instead. If the door slammed more than was strictly necessary considering there was a door closer, well, then Dean pretended not to notice.
He gave himself about half an hour before he pulled out the whiskey bottle he’d stashed in his duffle bag. He took a few “Dean shots”—what he called it when he took huge pulls off the bottle in lieu of a shot glass. The alcohol hit his brain quickly and he started to swim, loosening up. It made him sad he was alone, he couldn’t even go to Sam this time, but it also made him bold. He pulled out his phone and started trying to find some porn. What else is there to do when you’re drunk and alone?
Unzipping his pants, he freed his cock and started stroking it while he kept browsing. He didn’t know what he wanted so he kept opening videos and exiting out of them quickly. Not much was doing it for him exactly at that moment. Finally, he settled on something—pretty generic stuff with a conventionally attractive dark haired man with a big dick vigorously fucking a tiny, conventionally attractive blonde woman who kept asking if he “likes this little pussy.” He was barely watching it, just letting the sounds of moaning and slapping skin heighten his arousal. It started out languidly at first, but it didn’t take long for him to start vigorously trying to reach orgasm.
After he came, he got up and washed his hand and dick, then changed into night clothes, drank a few more “Dean shots,” and passed out drunk with the tv on.
…
Dean woke up to an alarm going off and morning wood straining through his boxers against someone’s back. The back was warm and he lazily pushed his hard cock into it in his foggy, vaguely hungover haze. His head hurt and his mouth was the Mojave, but the bed was just the right amount of warm in the icebox he’d created in the motel room. They don’t lie when they say that motel AC hits differently. But, through the fog in his brain, he heard the painful moan of the person in the bed with him. He would recognize that voice anywhere. Cas . He thought. What is Cas doing in my bed? More importantly, can he turn off that damn alarm?
Upon peeling open one of his eyes, the room was flooded with light; he never closed the thicker curtains before bed the night before and it seemed Cas forgot too. The alarm, a chirping little 3-second tone repeated like a mama bird pecking at your skull, was still going. Dean didn’t know where it was coming from, so he started shoving at Cas to try to wake the fucker up. No one knows desperation like a man who can’t seem to figure out how to turn off an alarm in the morning when he’s hungover and hasn’t truly gotten enough sleep.
“ Cas? ” Dean growled, giving Cas’s solid back another shove to try to wake him up.
“Mmph,” Cas groaned, clearly back asleep somehow. “Turn it off.”
“It’s your alarm, dude,” Dean was mostly awake now, more pissed off than anything. “I can’t reach it.”
“Fuck,” Cas swore, shifting and shooting an arm out to pat around for the phone somewhere on the nightstand between the beds.
Finally, after a few minutes of fumbling with the damned contraption of metal and glass, Cas figured out how to turn the sound off and there was blissful silence save for the rush of the window unit.
“We have to get up,” Cas grumbled, “The parade is in a few hours and we need to eat.” He was clearly not ready to get up any more than Dean was, but he had a goal whereas Dean would be happy to just camp out in the motel the rest of the weekend, especially with how bad his head was hurting.
“How much did I drink?” Dean asked out loud.
“A lot, it seemed.” Cas’s voice was inscrutable.
When Dean looked at his face, he saw the smeared glittery blue eye shadow and red lipstick. It was just a reminder of where Cas had been the night before, and it made his stomach tighten.
“Fuck.”
Cas’ eyes searched Dean’s face quickly before closing again, a small groan of discomfort escaping his mouth. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t bring himself to.
“What are you thinking?”
“Well,” Cas grit out, “first, I’m thinking I’m hungover and need an assload of ibuprofen.”
Dean was a more experienced drinker. He was a bit hungover himself, but he wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d ever been. He needed water, right then, and some ibuprofen himself too. He rolled off the bed and padded over to the plastic wrapped plastic cups on the sink so he could fill it up. First, he drank back the whole thing and then filled it a second time to hand it to Cas. Cas readily took it and gulped it down himself
“You don’t, uh, happen to have ibuprofen, do you?”
“Hold your horses, big guy. I gotcha covered.” He told him as he walked over to his duffle bag where he had his medicine stored.
It felt fucking domestic, like he was taking care of his lover. He tried to tamp down the feeling of anxiety that was bubbling up in his throat. Swallowing down his own ibuprofen helped a little. Then, he filled the cup back up and brought over the rest of the pills for Cas.
Cas took both gratefully, the tiniest of smiles on his lips. Dean had to make himself look away as Cas tossed both back, careful not to see the bob of Cas’ throat as he did so.
Dean did not know why, didn’t know what in the fuck compelled him to do so, but he opened his stupid mouth anyway, as he fixated on the cheap poster frame with an abstract picture of…a barn? in it.
“So, why exactly did I wake up with you in my bed, anyway?”
He didn’t bother looking at Cas. If he had, he may have seen the long-suffering glare he received for his trouble.
“You were drunk,” Cas offered, “and I was drunk. You kept begging and pleading with me to get in bed with you, grabbing at my clothes and waist.”
Jesus. Now he was extra glad he didn’t remember anything.
“Wow,” Dean said, glancing over now, unable to help it.
“You kept begging me to fuck you.”
This was said with a straight, serious face, Cas defiant knowing what it would do to Dean. It was a killing blow. But Dean had been dealt those before and gotten back up anyway.
“Well, that was, like, your dream scenario. Why didn’t you take me up on it?”
He could not believe the words coming out of his mouth, but he’d said far worse. To Cas, even. Fuck .
“I’m not interested in having sex with someone who will only agree to it when plied by substances. I want to have sex with people who are willing, enthusiastic, and sober.” Cas was so matter of fact, and his straight face penetrated Dean’s heart like a killing blow.
He needed to talk to Charlie ASAP.
“Well, I guess we need to get ready,” Dean said, completely changing the subject. “The best hangover cure is a good, greasy breakfast.”
He grabbed his outfit for the day—his usual fair minus the plaid over shirt—and moved to the bathroom to change, brush his hair, and brush his teeth. While he had been in there, Cas had changed into his own outfit. A different pair of shorts and a t-shirt with a rainbow on it.
“Where did you get all these new clothes?” Dean asked, unable to stop himself.
“Eileen got me some stuff online with express shipping. The modern world is truly a marvel.”
Dean nodded. “Right.”
“She said she’s going to help me get ready.”
“How?”
“She’s going to paint my face. And I need her to take off this from last night.”
“And we’re going to breakfast that way?” Dean felt the embarrassment creeping in, but he was trying to tamp it down.
Cas glared at him. He clearly had not forgiven him for everything that had just transpired between them.
“Yes, Dean. We are going to breakfast that way. And, in fact, I would appreciate it if you would let her paint your face, too.”
Dean’s stomach rolled, but he steeled himself. Maybe he owed Cas. “Okay.”
Cas looked momentarily stunned. “Okay. Well, I’m going over there now.”
“I’ll take the time to call Charlie for a few minutes,” he said, pulling his phone out to prove he was serious.
Cas nodded and left.
Dean waited a few seconds, taking some deep breaths and then he pressed Charlie’s name in his contacts.
“Deano!” Charlie answered the phone, shouting just a little. She was clearly in a public place. “What’s shaking?”
“Where are you?”
“I saved us a spot for the parade. I have folding chairs for the five of us.”
“Oh, wow. Okay. Thanks.”
“No problem. I’m excited!”
And she really did sound excited. Dean didn’t want to kill her vibe but he had to ask.
“Hey, Charlie?”
“Yeah?”
“You remember when I asked you to help me?”
“Yes, of course. That’s why I’m here.”
“How does this help me?”
“I’m here to support, be your wingman.”
Dean felt his brain lock up. “What do I need a wingman for?”
There was a long silence on the line, Charlie clearly unsure of how to proceed. “We’ll…talk in person, later. Okay?”
“Uhh…okay. Well, I guess we’re getting breakfast soon. Have you already eaten?”
“Yeah, I ate. Thanks. I’ll send you a pin of my location so you guys can find me.”
“Thanks, Charlie. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When Castiel returned from Eileen and Sam’s room, he had rainbows painted on both cheeks. Dean’s stomach rolled a bit but he didn’t say anything.
“You want to go over there now?”
“Uh, yeah, sure,” Cas said noncommittally.
He didn’t want to, but he went anyway. For Cas.
Eileen answered the door to her and Sam’s room. Instead of rainbows, she had pink, purple, and blue stripes on her cheeks. Sam had rainbows, despite being completely straight.
“Well, I have to admit,” Eileen said, sitting Dean down on one of the beds. “I didn’t think I’d see you.”
“Yeah, uh, Cas asked me to.”
“I see. Well, what set of colors do you want? Like me?” She paused and the silence felt weighty. But then she continued. “Or like the boys?”
Dean’s stomach flopped like a dying fish. Did she know? Certainly not…she’s just being polite, right? He couldn’t get a read off her face.
“Uh, the rainbow is fine, I guess.”
“Okay,” she said, noncommittal as she began painting the colors under his eyes.
He wasn’t sure what that all meant, but he was choosing not to examine it.
“Charlie has seats for us. So, I think we don’t need to take too long with breakfast.”
“Charlie’s here?” Sam asked, head whipping up from where he was playing solitaire on his phone.
“Oh, uh, yeah. I called her earlier in the week. So, we have seats.”
“I guess we should just get something through the drive through, then and head on over there,” Sam conceded. “Wish you would have said earlier.”
“I thought she would have told you,” Dean shrugged and Eileen fixed him with a glare, tacitly telling him to sit the fuck still. He made a sheepish face back in reply, cowed by the diminutive woman trying to paint his face.
“Dean, you know she only talks to you these days,” Sam rolled his eyes.
“That’s not true,” Dean protested, knowing full well it was true.
When he had asked her to help him, he never expected her to come. He kind of wished she had just decided not to. But she was trying to be a wingman, whatever that meant. So, he had to deal with that.
“Okay, done!” Eileen announced, obviously proud. “Go check it out!”
Dean hopped up off the bed and went over to the mirror above the sink. The little rainbows on his cheeks were…cute. He liked them there. But…he didn’t really need them. That wasn’t him. He was straight. Right?
“Thanks, Eileen.” He smiled and tried to sound as sincere as possible.
She flashed a huge smile. “Of course! Now, I won’t have any hearing aids and it will be loud at the parade so I’m going to need you to look directly at me if you need me. Or for you to sign. I know you don’t know a lot of signs.”
“Cas does,” Sam interjected.
Okay, and? Dean thought. But he didn’t say it. “Right.”
“Let’s go get breakfast.”
…
They found Charlie exactly where she said she’d be with four other folding chairs for them. He was glad that her presence made it so they only really had time to go through the drive thru instead of sitting down at a diner all made up in rainbows like he had been afraid of. He knew most people would probably be fine, but he wanted to keep the lowest profile possible.
She stood up when she saw them, hugging each of them one by one, lingering on Cas.
“I’m so proud of you, Cas,” she said, squeezing him tighter than anyone else.
He squeezed her back, “Thank you,” he said genuinely.
Dean awkwardly averted his eyes and shuffled over to sit in the chair next to Charlie’s. Charlie sat down and gripped his hand tightly.
“You ready for this?” She whispered to him.
He squinted his eyes at her. “I mean, it’s just a parade. I can handle it.”
At that, she made a confused face. “Dean, that’s…not what I meant.” She was still whispering.
“What did you mean then?” He whispered back.
“You know, the whole Cas being out thing. Are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him what?” Dean said much louder than he meant to.
Sam and Cas looked over, causing Eileen to look over too. She scrunched her face up in confusion since she hadn’t actually heard what he said. He looked away, down at his shoes.
Charlie waved at the rest of the party, laughing at Dean before pulling him back down to whisper in their secret bubble, quieter and closer than before. “Dude, what do you think I mean? Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked, trying to keep his voice low this time, feeling stunned more than anything.
“Just tell him you love him. He’s just come out as gay…he’s open to it.”
“Charlie, I don’t want to talk about it.” He got up and walked a little a ways away, toward a drink vendor he saw down the road to buy a drink. Fuck it. Hair of the dog .
He showed the man his ID and got himself a rum and Coke. Before he even really walked away, he drank the whole thing down and got back in line for another drink. The second one, he sipped on and walked back over to his family group.
Charlie gave him a skeptical look but didn’t comment on it. It wasn’t even noon quite yet.
“The parade is about to start,” she said, instead.
Sure enough, only a few minutes later, the distant thunder of motorcycles sounded, and the crowd roared in cheers.
“It’s the Dykes on Bikes!” Charlie told him before jumping up and cheering along with everyone else. “This is my favorite part. If we’re lucky, we might see a few titties!”
Dean felt himself perk up a bit at that. Titties . Then, an idea popped into his head. Bi chicks . He’s here for pride. There had to be a plethora of bi chicks there that he could hook up with, so why not go ahead and download a hook up app? He decided to do it later. First, he wanted to see titties. He would have some free time while the men were marching, so he didn’t have to look at so many naked dudes.
Finally, the women on motorcycles were in view. They were butch looking women in shorts, vests, and leather with sunglasses. Unfortunately, he didn’t see any titties, but several of the women had some flags and signs announcing their negative feelings about cops, and Dean couldn’t help but hoop and holler for the women. He had to admit, despite the lack of bare titties, he still found them incredibly hot. He leaned over to Cas, who was sitting next to him, and asked, “That really does nothing for you?”
“Not really, no. Does it do something for you?” Cas shouted back over the sound of the engines and crowd.
“Well, they’re not exactly my type. But boobs? Yeah, definitely.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. I just really don’t have an appreciation for the female form beyond the aesthetic.”
Dean nodded. He could see the aesthetic appreciation, but it was definitely more than that for him. He definitely liked women, no question about it.
Behind the women on bikes, a giant, giant pride flag was being carried by several dozen people. It looked a little different than the pride flag he was used to seeing though, with a pink color on the top. Weird. Since the real meat of the parade was starting, Dean pulled his phone out and started walking away to download and fill out his new dating profile while waiting in line for another drink.
Who are you interested in? The app asked once he’d decided on a username and uploaded a photo of himself shirtless, sans face. He automatically checked women but paused over men. If he’s trying to attract bi girls, what would be the best way to do that? Appear bisexual yourself , he decided. Yep, that makes sense. I’ll just swipe left on any guys .
He finally got to the front of the line and purchased another drink. It was hot, though, so he decided to get a bottle of water too.
When he got back to the group, Charlie eyed him again but he ignored it. He was definitely feeling the alcohol hit him, especially in the sun. When he looked at the parade, it was a big group of heavy set hairy men on a float with a bunch of gradient brown and yellow looking flags with a paw print in the corner. He felt a sense of pride in himself when he looked at the men and felt no stirring of arousal at all. Definitely straight , he thought.
He decided the rest of the parade really wasn’t worth watching, so he sat back down in his chair and got to swiping. Guy, guy, guy, guy, guy, guy…they’re all guys . Where are the girls? He kept swiping left to no avail. Sighing and frustrated, he closed out the app.
Looking up, a group of people with a bank sponsorship were walking by, waving and tossing out rainbow beads. Charlie sat down, clearly looking annoyed.
“What’s up with you?” Dean asked her.
“Corporate sponsorships don’t belong at pride. The first pride was a riot,” Charlie sneered derisively.
Dean nodded. “Yeah, fuck that,” he agreed.
“I get that gays need money, but blood money from big corporations and banks is just…selling your soul.”
Dean didn’t have much to say, so he just nodded some more.
Cas took a seat then too.
“How’s it going?” Dean asked.
Cas looked at him deeply, smiling. “It’s good.” He admitted. “I’m having fun.”
“I’m glad to hear that. We gotta keep the party going.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. We should go out tonight.”
Cas flashed a big though surprised smile. “That sounds great.”
The next group to march was a gay men’s choir. They were singing Diana Ross. Cas and Charlie stood back up, but Dean pulled his phone back out. He saw that he had a superlike. Opening the app, he saw a handsome man named Mike, 35, who had superliked him and sent a message that said “hey, beautiful. I see you’re not from Wichita. Coming to the after party tonight?”
Afterparty? That would be a great way to go out and have fun. Cas could even meet other gay men—a thing Dean definitely wants. Instead of xing the guy, Dean opened the app and accepted the message.
“Hey,” he wrote, “I didn’t know about the afterparty, but I’d love to meet you there. When and where?”
The message back was swift. “That’s exciting! Meet me at 10 at Napoleon’s Itch!”
“You got it!” Dean typed back.
“So, afterparty tonight at a place called Napoleon’s Itch?” He said to Charlie and Cas.
“How’d you find out about that?” Charlie questioned. “I couldn’t find anything.”
Dean felt his stomach swoop at that. “Uh, I don’t know. I just googled until I found something on Reddit.”
“Sounds fun,” Cas did not question. “What time?”
“I think it starts at 10.”
“Let’s do it,” Cas said, turning to tell Sam.
Dean watched as Sam smiled and nodded enthusiastically, then turned to Eileen and signed to her, spelling out the dumb name of the venue. Eileen also looked excited and enthusiastically signed back. Looked like plans were locked in. Dean felt a sense of accomplishment that he did something good for his friend.
When the parade ended, the crowds started to break up. There was a park close by that had lots of vendors and performances going on. There was more drag and, Dean happily noted, more alcohol. They set up their chairs in the grass in front of the stage in the park and waited for the next show to start.
This was their position for several more hours, Dean repeatedly going to get drinks and off and on chatting with Mike. He’d swiped on several women but gotten no matches.
“I’m hungry,” Sam announced some time around 5 PM.
“I could definitely eat,” Dean agreed, his head swimming.
“I looked up some restaurants near here. A few within walking distance. There’s some Asian street food that sounds really good,” Sam continued.
“That sounds amazing,” Charlie chimed in.
“I second that,” Dean said.
“I’ll go wherever you guys want to go,” Cas stated, matter of fact.
Sam must have already spoken to Eileen since she didn’t jump in, but was clearly watching the exchange of the group with a smile.
“Dean, help me carry the chairs to my car. The rest of you, go get us a table,” Charlie instructed, leaving no room for argument. He liked when she mommed them.
Without a single argument, the group stuffed their chairs back into the bags and handed them off to Charlie and Dean. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Cas give him… a sad look before walking off with Sam and Eileen.
“Dean, you gotta cut the drinking so much. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing. I’m just trying to have a good time. Is it not a Saturday night?”
“You’ve been doing it since before noon.” She gave him a withering look.
“I’m just trying to loosen up and have a fun time.”
“Just…be careful, okay?”
“Charlie, why are you lecturing me?”
He was definitely more than a little tipsy. It would probably be a good idea to stop, but he knew he was at a level where he just wanted to keep going. That little voice in his head telling him he needed more, more, more .
“I care about you, Dean. I just feel like…I don’t know. You’re running from something?”
“Running from what?” he snapped, harsher than he meant to.
Charlie flinched back and was silent as they approached her car and lobbed the chairs in the trunk.
“I’m sorry. I’m…yeah, I’m feeling weird. I don’t really want to be here. I don’t know how to explain it exactly, but Cas is making me uncomfortable.”
“Is he doing something to you?” she asked, locking her car behind her.
“No, no. Nothing like that. I think the gay thing is…I’m not handling it great.”
“But you’re fine with me? ” Charlie looked deeply offended.
He knew that this could very easily veer into him getting lectured; he probably deserved it.
“Charlie, it’s different with you. You’re like my sister. I know nothing would ever happen between us—”
“And there was never going to be,” Charlie interrupted pointedly.
“Right. But with Cas…”
“You think something is going to happen?” Charlie’s eyes went wide, trying to tell him something he was pointedly trying not to understand.
“Charlie, I…I guess I got really drunk last night when everyone went out without me and when Cas came back to the room, I begged him to…” his stomach rolled a little but also his head was swimming and the alcohol had loosened his lips. “Begged him to come to bed and fuck me.”
Charlie’s face was stunned, eyes wide. She stopped in her tracks, eyes wide.
“Dean…did you guys…?”
“No, no. Cas made it very clear that he was not interested in fucking someone who was only up for it if they had been plied with alcohol.”
“Is that why…?”
He shrugged. “I like being drunk.”
“Dean…” Charlie looked troubled. “Don’t…don’t ruin this for him.”
That struck Dean right in the heart. He couldn’t say how many times he’d been told not to ruin something. Especially by his dad. Fuck, that made him think of his dad. Did he have time for another rum and Coke?
“Can I just…not go to dinner?” he said, his insides squirming.
Charlie looked stunned at him saying that. “Why?”
“I wouldn’t want to ruin that too,” he felt hot tears at his eyes. If he worked hard enough, he could keep them at bay.
“Deano,” Charlie deflated, “come here.” She pulled him into her arms.
“John’s long gone,” she said, seeing straight to the heart of him. “This is just about you and Cas. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just want this to be fun for everyone.”
“Me too,” Dean hugged her tightly, feeling her smaller body against him. It was a comfort. “I just…don’t feel good, Charlie.”
“Dean,” she squeezed him tighter, “you have to be nicer to yourself. I know that’s easier said than done. But part of it is accepting yourself.”
He nodded, his chin digging into Charlie’s shoulder. “I know.”
“I know, Dean. I love you and accept you.”
He wasn’t crying. Definitely not. “I love you and accept you too.”
“You have to love and accept yourself, too.”
“I’m…” he sniffled, “It's hard. I’m scared.”
“I know, I know.”
“I guess…I’m not? Straight?”
Charlie pulled back and looked him right in the eyes. He tried to cringe away, but she wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t judgmental and it wasn’t braggadocious; she didn’t look like she wanted to say “I told you so.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” she said. The relief nearly made him dizzy. That was the best possible thing she could have said.
She smiled. “Now, let’s go to dinner.” Actually, that was the best possible thing she could have said.
“Yes, god. I’m starving actually. And, I think I could use some water.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
When they reached the restaurant, Sam, Eileen, and Cas were waiting with a buzzer outside. Charlie squeezed Dean’s shoulder and went to go sit next to Cas. Dean moved to sit next to Eileen.
“They said it’ll be about 15 minutes,” Sam informed them.
“I’ll be right back,” Dean said, heading for the bar.
He saw Charlie twinge as she noticed what he was doing, but he gave her a tight smile he hoped was reassuring. At the bar, he ordered a water for him and a Sprite for Charlie.
She took the soda from him gratefully and relaxed completely when she saw he just had the water after all.
“I wanted to pay for something so I could tip, but I mostly just really needed some water.”
They didn’t have to wait too long after that to be seated. And thank goodness. Everyone was tired and hungry from a long day out in the sun. And dinner was delicious. Dean had a spicy, spicy noodle soup while Sam and Eileen had noodle dishes, Charlie had wings, and Cas got a bunch of dim sum plates. Everyone was so full by the end of it, but they decided to get some dessert roti anyway. It was so worth it.
“Can we go back to take a nap before we go out tonight?” Dean asked the group as they stumbled out of the restaurant, almost full to burst, to go to their separate cars.
“What, you feeling sleepy, old man?” Sam teased with a lazy grin on his face.
“Yeah, what of it?”
“It’s only 7:30.”
“We’ve been awake and out in the sun since before 11! You’re telling me you’re not tired?”
“Okay,” Sam conceded, “I guess we need to go take a nap before going out tonight.”
…
Dean easily fell into a deep food coma sleep back in the hotel room. He tried to look at something on the internet, respond to a few messages, including from some men on the dating app (still no women), but only got a few words out before his eyes started crossing and he drifted off to sleep.
When he woke up, he was alone in the room. Cas probably got tired of Dean’s snoring, he guessed. He checked his phone to see if Cas had texted him. Nothing. He did have a few more messages from the dating app, specifically from Mike.
Still coming tonight? ;) I definitely hope to make you , Mike had said. Clearly the message was a double entendre, Mike trying to push the conversation in a sexier direction. Dean’s stomach rolled nervously. He needed to find a way to get out of this.
After emptying his bladder, he realized he was completely sober and needed Charlie’s help. He splashed some water on his face and then ran his hands through his hair to try to fix the damage done by sleeping on it. Then, he called Charlie.
“Hey, Deano,” she greeted him. “Are you okay? Ready for this thing tonight?”
“I’m gonna be honest, Charlie, I’m getting cold feet.”
“I understand. Do you know why you’re feeling that way? Is it about Cas?”
“Partially.” It wasn’t completely untrue.
“Is there something else?”
Dean hesitated, but Charlie didn’t push. Gods bless her .
“Yeah, there’s something else.”
“Okay…” she left room for him to continue.
“I signed up for a dating app as ‘bisexual’ hoping to maybe meet up with some bi chicks,” Charlie scoffed at that but said nothing, “but all I’ve gotten is men. That’s how I found out about this afterparty.”
“Ohh, so you made plans to meet up with someone?”
Dean sighed, trying to calm the nerves in his stomach. “Yeah, I did.”
“A man?”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Well, I think Cas still really wants to go based on his excitement at dinner. I’m sure it would mean a lot to him if you were to go too, but are you worried about him seeing you talk to another man?”
“Why would I be worried about that?”
“Dean…”
“What?”
“Okay, fine. I’ll address the elephant in the room. You like Cas, right? Like, you want to be with him right?”
Dean’s whole body went into a bizarre stasis at that, suspended in time and space. He was frozen solid.
“Why don’t you just tell him?” she asked, hitting the crux of the real problem.
“Because,” Dean sighed, “there’s the Dean and Cas, the Big One, the Real One, and there’s what’s in my head. And what’s in my head will always be different from reality. Even if he does like me back, which I guess is possible considering the whole gay thing, that doesn’t mean it will be anything like what I imagined. Or that we’re even good for each other. I mean, do you know how many times we’ve hurt each other?”
“So you have thought about it?”
“Yeah, I’ve thought about it. A million different ways, in a million different lifetimes, if he wasn’t an angel and I wasn’t a hunter.”
“I get it. I’ve been there. But the reality is so much better than whatever you’re imagining. To love and be loved…”
“Woah, Woah, Woah. Who said anything about love?” Dean interjected, weakly.
Charlie paused for just a second. Perhaps she was stopping herself from being snarky because her next words were rather sincere. “Your face, every time you look at him. Literally the entire world sees it. Hell, he probably sees it.”
“Don’t say that to me,” Dean almost whispered.
“Why not?”
“Because it raises possibilities I’m not equipped to deal with.”
“What? Like maybe he loves you back?”
Dean’s stomach rolled. He was about to say more when the door to the hotel room started opening.
“I have to go, Charlie,” he said before he pressed “End Call.”
Cas came in, looking weird . Dean couldn’t put his finger on it. High?
“Cas, are you high?”
“I guess?”
Dean laughed out loud. “Did you take a nap at all?”
“No,” he squinted his eyes and looked far away. “Eileen gave me a gummy when we got back and I’ve been hanging out in their room while you were in here sawing logs.”
“Wait, who taught you that expression?”
“Sam,” Cas shrugged and slumped down on his own, unused bed.
He started digging through his bag to find another outfit for their clubbing. He pulled out a mesh top and yet another pair of short shorts.
“How do you feel?”
“Nice,” Cas admitted, stripping off his top and switching it for the mesh one.
Dean panicked and averted his eyes.
“Kind of floaty, kind of distant, kind of slow,” Cas continued, his words sounding measured.
“Yeah, you’re high,” Dean laughed.
“Are you ready to go, Dean?” Cas asked, fixing Dean with his blurry and bloodshot eyes. It was comical but Dean kept his laughter to himself.
“Uh, yeah, I’m ready, I guess. I don’t need a costume change.”
Cas snorted, amused, and pulled on some yellow boots. “All right,” he said, “well, I’m ready to go.”
Dean made sure he had the room key in his wallet and they headed out.
…
Napoleon’s Itch was a pretty small club, but it was packed wall to black wall with people, mostly men in various states of undress. As they parked and walked up, they could hear the pounding music flooding out of the doors, neon lights flickering around inside. There was a somewhat steep cover but they all paid and filed inside. There was a back patio that seemed to be filled with regulars who were smoking and trying to escape the bigger crowds, a good mix of ages and races, Dean was happy to note. He wasn’t a smoker anymore, but he wasn’t exactly keen to head right into the throng, so he veered out onto the patio to sit at one of the picnic benches out there.
“Hey,” he heard a voice next to him.
He looked over and there was an older man, maybe late forties, sitting next to him smoking a cigarette. “Want a smoke?”
This made Dean a little nervous because he was afraid the man was hitting on him and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. Instead of speaking, he just nodded. The man pulled out a pack of Marlboros, the brand Dean used to smoke, and tamped the pack down on the table a few times before opening it and pulling one out. He handed it to Dean and then produced a lighter. Dean put it between his lips and let the man light it for him.
“Name’s Dan. You?”
“Dean.” He didn’t see a point in lying.
“Dean and Dan. You local?”
“Not especially. Lawrence.” This time he did lie.
Dan gave him a very strange look. “All the way up there? Isn’t Topeka or Kansas City closer?”
Dean shrugged. “We wanted to come here.”
“We?” Dan looked interested.
“Oh. Yeah, I came here with some friends and my brother.”
“You gay?” It wasn’t a malicious question, obviously but it was more forward than Dean was used to.
“Bisexual,” he said, almost instinctively. He’d never really admitted it, even to Charlie, but he was trying it out.
“Interesting. You want a drink?”
“Sober,” Dean lied again.
“Interesting,” Dan said again and put out his own cigarette before getting up.
Dean wasn’t sure if he would come back, but he wasn’t very concerned. It gave him a chance to puff on the cigarette and quietly survey the crowd. The folks outside seemed to skew a little bit older and a little more clothed but still visibly gay. Most were drinking, smoking, and chatting. There were a few bar games around that people were actively playing. He started to think that it seemed like a comfortable place that he wouldn’t mind coming more often, despite his usual type of haunt being a place with peanut shells on the floor and a mechanical bull.
After finishing his cigarette, he pulled out his phone to check his messages. He had a text from Charlie and a few messages from the dating app. His stomach rolled as he swiped away all those notifications and opened the message from Charlie.
“I’m here. Where you at??” the message said.
“Back patio,” he shot back.
He didn’t have to wait long for Charlie to find him. She had a drink in her hand. He glanced at it, then back to her face that was registering his gaze.
“Should I…?”
“No, no, you’re okay. I’m not that bad.” He laughed wryly.
“I’m just trying to get a little loose and maybe kiss some cute girls tonight.”
“I wish you the best of luck with that!”
She tipped the drink up in a cheers and took a sip. “What are you doing out here, anyway?”
“I don’t know. The bar just seems really crowded.”
“It is,” Charlie agreed. “Only way I got served is because the bartender is a lesbian.”
“Oh, that worked out for you.” He chuckled.
“It usually does.” she shrugged and sat next to him. “You been smoking?”
“Eh, yeah,” he admitted, feeling a little sheepish. “Old habit. A guy gave me one when he was sitting out here. I think he was hitting on me, but I told him I didn’t drink and he dipped.”
“His loss.” Charlie joked.
They sat in silence for a bit.
“I do want to go dance at some point. Will you come with me?”
“I don’t dance, Charlie.”
“It’s really fun, Dean. I’ll be with you the whole time, if you want.”
“Mm.” He considered it. It was for Charlie, he reasoned. “Okay.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Charlie downed the rest of her drink and hopped up. Dean followed suit.
Inside, they found Eileen and Sam sitting at a booth by themselves drinking Guinness. He was a little surprised that they were able to get a booth but it was clearly working out for them since they looked so happy, just signing away instead of dancing. The dance floor was down a level and pretty crowded, so Dean didn’t see Cas as he scanned over it. This was what they were there for, right? As he scanned, he also was looking for Mike, grateful that the man had no clue what Dean’s face looked like.
The music was loud and it made it hard to hear anything Charlie was saying, even when she was shouting. But he let her grab his hand and pull them down the stairs into the throng, bobbing and weaving through the crowd to find an empty space for them to dance.
Charlie didn’t wait for Dean, she just launched into her moves. He watched her for a few seconds to get the idea of how to do it and then started following her lead. He saw how big her smile was when she saw him dancing with her. The music was thumping and he closed his eyes, listening to the beat and letting his limbs move in ways that just made sense. He was stone-cold sober and yet he was letting his inhibitions go.
“ Push me. And then just touch me,” the robotic voice was chanting over a driving beat. “ So I can get my…satisfaction.”
They went on like that, dancing together, occasionally having other people dance around and with them. At one point, a man came up behind Dean and put his hands on Dean’s hips while dancing behind him. It sent an electric thrill through him that he wasn’t sure how to deal with, but he swallowed the feeling down and let it happen. It didn’t go much beyond that. Dean didn’t turn around and look at the man, but he knew it was a man from the feel of the body against him. He wasn’t sure what the man could want from him, maybe just a dance or maybe more, but he didn’t find out.
After several songs of just bopping around to the music, he was sweating and tired. Damn, I’m an old man , he thought. He didn’t know much sign language, but he’d learned the sign for water. Quickly, he signed to Charlie to let her know he was going to go get some water at the bar at the back of the club that they were closest to.
As he approached, he saw that the bartender was a gay man. He watched as the man deftly ignored the women standing there and spoke only to the hottest guys. Shit, I’ll never get served , he thought, feeling silly holding his fake credit card loosely in his hand.
He was shocked when the bartender’s eyes landed directly on him to ask what he wanted. He felt pinned beneath the weight and stunned stupid for a few seconds. The man was not patient and it was obvious on his face.
“What do you want?” He asked.
“Uh, a water and a vodka soda,” Dean said in panic, feeling stupid that he ordered alcohol after telling Charlie he wouldn’t.
The regret started welling up as he watched the man quickly fill up the cup with ice before pouring in a generous amount of vodka that he topped lightly with some sprite. He just wanted a water but he felt like he couldn’t just ask for something free. He didn’t leave the tab open, just paid for the one drink and dipped off, sipping from the water and holding the drink farther away from himself as if it exonerated him. He’d just give it to Charlie, that’s fine!
As he spun around, he saw Cas standing at the bar a few feet away from him, leaning with his back to it and a man crowding in on him. They were chatting, close together to be heard over the music. Something felt like it snapped inside Dean; he couldn’t stand seeing this other guy clearly hitting on his Cas.
Without thinking, placed his drinks down before walking up and inserting himself between them. He was looking right at the other man, not at Cas, and saw the man’s obvious surprise at the intrusion.
“Um, hi,” he heard the man say.
Dean didn’t bother responding, just turned to Cas and kissed him. It was hard and fast, not a real kiss at all, just a clear warning.
“He’s taken,” Dean growled, “piss off.”
The man put his hands up in surrender before hightailing it out of the vicinity.
“What the fuck, Dean?” Castiel’s face was livid.
He didn’t wait for a response from Dean, just grabbed him by the wrist and started escorting him out to the back patio, skirting around the dance floor on the upper level. Dean spotted Charlie, but she was so lost in the sauce that she didn’t notice them.
The crowd in the back was a bit thinner than it was earlier and Cas found them an empty picnic table, sitting opposite of Dean. His face was tight and stony.
“You clearly wanted my full and undivided attention. You have it. Now, why did you do that?”
His sins laid bear in the light of the back patio and away from the thump of the music, he felt foolish, but foolish pride makes many a man say foolish things.
“I just think it’s a little dangerous for you to be talking to random men. You need to be careful.”
Cas looked almost like he wanted to hit Dean in that moment. “You fucking homophobic asshole,” he said instead.
He reached into his pocket, then, and pulled out a joint and a lighter.
“Where’d you get that?” Dean asked, shocked.
Cas glared at him before taking a pull. He shrugged. “Someone gave it to me.”
They were silent for a few minutes.
“Cas, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. That was out of line.”
Cas looked at him with slightly hazy eyes, but he was keenly aware of Dean anyway.
“Why did you kiss me, then? You’ve been off this whole trip. You’re breaking apart.”
Leave it to Cas to cut right to the heart of Dean. He took a look around the patio, checking to see if there was anyone looking at them. Not a single other person was paying attention to their personal conversation. Dean felt like there was a safety blanket wrapping around them in the night.
“I guess I am,” Dean admitted.
Cas took another hit but said nothing, an invitation for Dean to keep talking. Dean’s stomach knotted, and he took a deep breath to try to relax. He could hear John’s voice in his head calling him a pansy faggot, but he forced it down and away. John’s long gone , he reminded himself.
“I, uh, I think I’m in love with you. And it scares the shit out of me.¨
At that moment, the universe opened up around Dean, and he was bathed in a purple light. The infinity of possibilities was laid out before him of all the different ways this could play out.
Cas was stoned, they were in a completely different city from home, Dean was a fish out of water and he felt like his lungs were being crushed by the air around him.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything,” he said, standing and pulling the keys from his pocket. “I’ll be in the car.”
At that, he walked away, his heart clenching in his chest.
“Dean.” He heard Cas’ voice behind him, steady and clear.
He wanted to turn around, but he knew that way lie heartache, so he kept walking through the parking lot to the SUV they brought on the trip, climbing into the driver’s seat and turning the car on so he could blast the AC and music. This called for some Zeppelin for sure.
With the vents stripping the skin from his face with the chill and force and “Immigrant Song” on full volume, the passenger door opened and someone slid into the passenger seat. Dean knew it was Cas, but he didn’t open his eyes or look over.
Cas turned the volume down on the radio to where it was barely audible and the AC down to a reasonable force. He didn’t say anything for a while, just let the radio play.
“Dean,” Cas finally said, his voice warm and steady, simultaneously a comfort and something that set Dean on edge.
Dean said nothing.
“Dean,” Cas said again, “please look at me.”
His stomach clenched, but he opened his eyes and peered over at Castiel, former angel of Thursday, now just a vulnerable and human man sitting next to him with glitter on his cheeks and a mesh top. When he first encountered him in that barn years ago, he absolutely never thought they’d end up here. He never thought he’d fall in love with him either.
“I love you, too.” Cas said.
And there it was, that thing between them. In some way, Dean had always known it.
“What does that mean for us?” Dean said, looking out the windshield instead of Cas.
“Should we try…dating?” Cas sounded unsure.
“Does it even make sense for us to be together?” Dean said. “What if we’re bad for each other? What if we break up?”
“We’ve already broken up and come back together again many times. I think that we will always find each other. It’s fate. It was always you and me.” He placed his hand over Dean’s scarred hand print. “Ever since Heaven tasked me with raising you from hell.”
Dean wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe he felt a jolt of electricity at the touch. It could definitely just be his imagination.
He peered back out the SUV at the club in front of them, the rainbow flags out front and the pounding lights bleeding out into the dark and rippling across the bricks. Cas dropped his hand from Dean’s shoulder. He keenly felt the loss of the hand and before it could fall away, Dean reached out and grabbed Cas’ hand with his own. Cas squeezed it and rested their hands down on the console between them. Dean wasn’t sure what this meant for them and their future, but there was something like hope swelling inside him.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Summary:
The sexy stuff.
Notes:
Huh well this went a little more plotty than I expected, but still mostly just an excuse to write Destiel porn. Enjoy! Also beta’d by Des. Thanks as always!
Chapter Text
“I’ll shower first, if that’s okay?” Dean said as they came into the motel room.
“By all means,” Cas waved Dean on, slumping down into the desk chair, already blinking between sleep and wakefulness.
They’d gone back into the club and danced more, exhausting themselves. Charlie had made big eyes at Dean, clearly wanting answers. He made what he hoped was a gesture of “I’ll tell you tomorrow” before going back to dancing not exactly with Cas but next to him.
At the end of the night, Dean found Eileen and Sam asleep, slumped together in their booth. He was glad they’d had a good time and glad he wouldn’t have to…explain things to them just yet. Charlie, obviously, he owed his life to and would have an in-depth, tell-all goss sesh with later, no matter how unpleasant for him, since she deserved that much.
When Dean got out of the shower, Cas was lightly snoring. He allowed himself to think how adorable it was and found it oddly freeing to do so instead of clamping down the thought before it could fully form like he would have before. How much mental anguish had he been permitting just to shove thoughts about Cas down?
Gently, he shook the former angel awake, letting him know the shower was free. Cas was not shy about stripping naked before stepping into the bathroom, but Dean still felt a mild discomfort from it. Casual nudity was not something he was familiar with. Even with any hookup he’d ever had, mostly they were quick and in a dark place with clothes thrown back on as soon as the deed was done. There wasn’t time or space to feel shy.
This was different, watching Cas’s sculpted, bare ass disappear into the shower. It was hot, and he felt his cock twitch a little, but he was too sleepy and they’d already agreed no sex yet. So, he climbed into the bed and tried to get comfy.
He was almost asleep when Cas got out of the shower, steam rolling out behind him. Dean rolled over to face Cas, who was leaning over his duffel bag to pull out boxers. Despite Cas’s best efforts, he hadn’t managed to get every piece of glitter off his face. It was, now that he was allowing himself to admit it, kind of adorable.
Cas crawled into bed next to him. They had no real basis for how they wanted to sleep as they’d never done it before.
“How, uh,” Dean started, “how do you want to do this?” his voice was gruff with sleep.
“I’m happy to be the ‘little spoon,’ if you’d like,” Cas offered.
“Is it okay if I’m little spoon?”
“I have no real preference,” Cas said, rolling over to spoon Dean, his hand wrapping around Dean’s side to rest against his stomach.
It was insanely comfortable, and they started drifting off to sleep. After a bit, though, Dean realized he felt…something against his ass. Holy shit, Cas has a boner , he thought, suddenly much more awake than before. Should he say something? Do something? Or maybe just ignore it? They said no sex in the hotel; they needed to wait until they were home. But the boner behind him was turning him on too, his own boner at half mast just thinking about it. Maybe just a little squirming back against Cas, to see if Cas is even awake and test the waters a bit?
He shimmied his ass just a little, pushing back against Cas as he did.
“Dean,” Cas moaned, low and gruff, definitely turned on.
Fuck , that sent an electric shock right to Dean’s dick.
Cas’s hand on Dean’s stomach started to move low across his abdomen, causing the muscles to twitch at the touch. They could leave it at this, they could just tease a little and go to bed, but the desire was coursing through Dean, his heart pounding and his cock fully hard now. He was no longer thinking straight; all he could think about was Cas touching him and stroking him, them both making each other come.
“Cas,” Dean breathed out, “will you touch me?”
“Are you sure? We said…”
“I know what we said, but I don’t care. I need you so bad, Cas. I’ve needed you for so long.”
Dean was a little shocked about the things coming out of his mouth, but he’d certainly said much more vulgar and depraved shit before when he was even less horny.
Cas didn’t have to be told twice. His hand moved farther down, hand reaching down into Dean’s boxers to wrap around Dean’s cock. It was perfect to have Cas’s warm hand around him, slowly stroking.
“God, that feels so good,” Dean moaned out. “How’d you learn your way around a cock like that?”
“I studied. And practiced. I’m doing what I know feels good to me.”
Dean moaned again.
“Am I the only man you’ve ever touched like this?”
There was a small pause. “No, but you’re the only man I’ve ever really wanted to touch like this.”
“Fuck,” Dean said, his stomach fluttering.
“Can I suck you off?”
“Yes, please,” he breathed out, like the wind had been knocked out of him.
Cas pulled away to let Dean roll over onto his back.
“This is something I’ve never done, but I’ve wanted to.”
Dean reasonably knew that meant that the blowjob wouldn’t be the best technically, but just to have Cas’s mouth on him would be perfect.
Cas got himself into a position on his stomach between Dean’s legs, now face to face with Dean’s hard cock. He was enraptured by the sight of Cas down there, looking up his body with his left hand on Dean’s thigh and right hand wrapped around him. Cas took a few tentative licks, sending Dean’s head back in a moan. He couldn’t believe this was really happening. Something he’d dreamed about but never let himself think too deeply on. Then, Cas put the whole thing in his mouth. The warm wetness and the hint of teeth around him was beyond what he could have imagined. Of course, he’d had plenty of blow jobs before, but he’d never had a blowjob from Cas , and somehow that was making it the best blowjob of his life.
Cas was keeping a decent rhythm, only occasionally losing it but then getting back to it, trying not to catch the delicate skin on his teeth, and going as far down as he was able to, only now and then gagging a little bit. It was so cute to see how much he was trying. He clearly cared so much about Dean and wanted to do a good job. With his right hand steadying the cock, it was easy to keep it up and stroke over the spit that he was leaving behind, keeping it slick and pulling the skin delicately down and driving Dean crazy.
It was something to do with the fervor, seeing that it was Castiel between his legs, that was really building the warm feeling deep at the bottom of his belly, helping him creep closer and closer to orgasm.
“Cas, I’m gonna…”
“Come for me, Dean,” Cas commanded in his voice that sounded raked over gravel, now lower than ever.
Holy SHIT , what that did to Dean. It was enough to push him over the edge. He spilled right into Cas’ mouth, something he hadn’t done with someone else in a looooong time. There was something not only liberating about it but just insanely sexy that it was Cas and that Cas wanted that. Dean had been with lots of people who either refused to let him come in their mouths or just spat it out if he did. Cas, on the other hand, swallowed it looking like a cat who got the cream.
“Holy shit, Cas. You might be the sexiest thing in existence.”
“That’s not the case, Dean. But I appreciate you saying so,” he said as he moved to lay back down beside Dean.
Dean didn’t try to argue, just lazily reached a hand over to Cas’ cock, still basking in his afterglow. Cas moaned at the slow touch.
“I’m still so turned on,” Cas said, clearly hinting at something.
Dean hesitated for a second. Dare he ask for the thing he wanted the most? Should they really go that far?
“Cas…would you…” he stopped, feeling too vulnerable, embarrassed. “Do you think you’d want to, uh…”
“Do you want me to penetrate you?” Cas asked without a hint of humor, his eyes piercing into Dean’s.
Dean bit his lip, embarrassment and arousal flushing him. He nodded.
Cas did not waste time, rolling off the bed and going over to his duffle bag.
“Did you bring lube?” Dean asked in a bit of disbelief.
Slyly, over his shoulder, Cas replied. “I came here for my first gay pride. The possibility of anal sex did, in fact, come up in my mind, yes.”
“Fair point,” Dean conceded. “Wait, you were really going to have sex with a guy who wasn’t me?”
Cas stood up and turned around, fixing Dean with a withering look. “I hadn’t thought it was a possibility for us to be in this scenario. So, yes, I was prepared to fornicate with a stranger. Not like you’ve never had any random hookups before.”
“Not since…” Dean trailed off, embarrassed to even think back to it. Had he really not had any ‘random hookups’ since he met Castiel, Angel of the Lord?
“Since when?” Castiel sauntered over, lube and condoms in hand.
“Uh…since I fucked Anna in the back of the Impala almost 10 years ago.”
“Wait…you’re telling me you’ve had a decade long dry spell?”
“I mean…no, I was with Lisa for a while after the apocalypse. But yeah, after that, I use my hand and that’s been enough.”
“But why?” Cas seemed genuinely confused, and Dean was mortified to have to spell it out for him.
“Maybe I didn’t realize it, but I think it’s because you were the only person I really wanted to sleep with. Maybe not at first; maybe the apocalypse kept me pretty busy, but then after that…I don’t know.”
Cas was still just looking at him without a word. Dean wasn’t sure what Cas was thinking, so he didn’t press on.
“I can’t believe this,” Cas admitted, not mad but certainly distressed, sitting down on the bed next to Dean.
“What?” Dean sat up.
“All this time…I never would have thought…”
Dean was silent. Up until a few hours ago, he would not let himself think any of this at all.
“How long have you been thinking about it?”
“I couldn’t say for sure. I took me a while to figure out human emotions. I couldn’t say when exactly I figured out what it was that I felt about you. I always knew I liked you more than Sam, no offense to him.”
Dean pulled a face. “Let’s not talk about my brother right now.”
“Right, well. Uh…”
“Do you want to do this?”
Cas nodded. “Will you get on the edge of the bed?”
Dean was happy to comply wordlessly, leaving his asshole exposed up to Cas’s caprices. Cas took his time to open the lube bottle and liberally coat one finger with the viscous liquid before gently approaching Dean’s hole. Then, he ringed his finger around it, teasing in a way that almost made Dean want to call the whole thing off. But he’d secretly wanted this for so long he couldn’t go back now. This was Cas and Cas was fingering his ass. But he felt so vulnerable, so open, in a way that just made him want to hide. Instead, he buried his face in his forearm and the sheets on the bed. Finally, Cas’ finger slipped inside, and there was some resistance but it felt nice. Different, but nice. There was plenty of lube to keep Cas comfortably pumping in and out for a few minutes.
“Ready for another finger?”
Dean thought about it for a second but nodded his head where it was resting against his forearm on the bed.
Cas deftly opened the lube bottle with one hand and added more to the hand already working Dean’s hole. The second finger seemed to go in easily, and Cas began to pump his hand a little faster, managing to hit Dean’s prostate a few times on the upswing and making him see stars.
“Woah,” Dean moaned out.
“The human anus can be a marvelous thing,” Cas agreed, redoubling his efforts to make Dean feel good.
After a few more minutes, Cas asked about a third finger. Now Dean was kind of worked into a frenzy, his hard dick scrabbling for some kind of friction where was none. He wanted to grab it while Cas kept working, but he was afraid he would come too quickly if he did that, so he let himself be tortured.
“Yes, for the love of god, please give me another finger.”
Cas was happy to oblige and continued working in and out, stretching Dean as best he could.
“That feels so fucking good,” Dean allowed himself to say.
“I can’t wait to be inside of you,” Cas said, leaning over Dean’s body to whisper in his ear.
Dean shivered with pleasure, imagining Cas’ girth slipping inside of him. It was almost too much.
“Cas, please, I need…”
That was enough for Cas to take the hint. He pulled out and wiped his hand on the motel sheets, knowing it would easily wash out.
He added a little more fresh lube to his hand to coat his cock.
“You’re sure?”
Dean nodded again, rucking his hips a little bit, feeling like his dick was very untouched right now. “I’m so fucking keyed up right now, Cas. I need it.”
Cas wiped his hand off again and then gripped Dean’s hips, pulling him closer to the edge of the bed so that he could line himself up and start to enter.
It definitely hurt a little, more than Dean was expecting, a bit overwhelming.
“Can you pull out?” Dean asked, a little desperate for the pain to stop.
“Did I hurt you?” Cas was panicked.
“It hurt a little,” Dean admitted, “but I want to try again. It was just…a lot.”
“Okay,” Cas said, cautiously. “Okay. I’m trying again.”
This time, as Cas entered him, it didn’t really hurt. In fact, it felt so good that an involuntary moan slipped out of his throat as Cas moved in slowly.
“Holy shit,” Dean breathed out.
“Are you okay?” Cas check in, worried. “Am I going too fast?”
“No, no. It’s good. Keep going.”
That was all Cas needed to proceed. He started to pick up the pace, his hips holding a slow, steady rhythm. Dean slumped himself forward so he was resting just on one arm, so that he could reach up and grab his own cock to jerk it in time with Cas’ thrusts that were starting to get faster and faster.
“Dean, I’m getting really close. You’re so tight.”
“Cas, come for me, please,” Dean moaned.
Cas kept thrusting, his movements getting faster and his breathing getting shallower. It took him a little while before he cried out in orgasm, yet he kept going for a few seconds anyway, still working his hips. It was so hot that Dean kept up his own feverish pace with his hand to bring himself off, spilling onto the white sheets in front of him.
“I think I need another shower,” Dean admitted, feeling like jello.
“You want to shower together?”
Dean just nodded, rolling over. “Might be a bit of a tight squeeze,” he admitted, but the thought of it still excited him. “Then I’d like to get some sleep.”
speakingofprettyboys on Chapter 1 Sat 17 Jun 2023 01:54AM UTC
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ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) on Chapter 1 Tue 29 Aug 2023 04:06AM UTC
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