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Castiel didn’t know why watching Dean work on the Impala made his heart pound the way it did. It could have been the grease and sweat smeared over his brow. Or the way his dirty white tank top would creep up over the waistband of his jeans, revealing the contour of his hip bone, the sharp line Cas wanted to trace with his tongue. Maybe it was the way Dean leaned over the engine, practically inviting Cas to grab him from behind and fuck him over the hood. Or it was how Dean’s rough hands, covered in calluses and grime and bruises, could be so nimble and delicate with the small bits of machinery he tinkered with; hands that would sneak under Cas’ shirt and make him shiver with just a touch.
“Hey, Cas?”
He startled from his thoughts to look at Dean leaning through the passenger side window. Castiel wasn’t sure when Dean had moved away from the engine where he’d been working for the past 15 minutes.
“Did you hear me, buddy?”
Cas cleared his throat, “No, I’m sorry, what was it?”
“Could you try the engine again? I think I finally found what was bothering her.”
Dean’s smile was quirked lopsidedly and his eyes had a gleam of self-satisfaction, a job well done. The intense sun filtered through his lashes, making his eyes seem greener than ever and highlighting the splash of freckles that dusted his cheekbones. Cas would have done anything to stay in this moment forever.
Nonetheless, he turned the ignition and the Impala started with a deep purr. Dean rarely let Cas behind the wheel, even going so far as to call him his “passenger princess.” (A title that Cas outwardly protested, but secretly made him blush). Helping Dean work was basically the only time he was in the driver’s seat, running his hands over the wheel, feeling the indentations made by Dean’s hands in the old leather after years of driving back and forth across the country.
Dean laughed and clapped his hands as he moved to shut the hood, “That’s my Baby!”
Cas knew Dean was referring to the car, but he couldn’t help the way the praise went straight to his dick which was still half-hard from his earlier fantasies.
Dean climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
Cas tilted his slightly to the side, “Don’t you want to park in the garage?”
“I was thinking you could do it, you’re already behind the wheel afterall.”
It would only take a couple minutes to drive to the bunker’s garage on the carefully concealed road which led to the back entrance, but this felt important. Dean was trusting him, asking him to drive. He knew it was stupid, but as Cas shifted out of neutral, his heart began racing again.
“Uh, Cas, you alright?”
Cas followed Dean’s gaze to his crotch. Apparently, the excitement was also going straight to his dick.
Dean slid across the bench seat closer to Cas and began unbuttoning his pants, drawing a sharp inhale from Cas.
“Eyes on the road, sweetheart, I don’t want to see any scratches, mkay?”
Cas nodded and tried to steady his breathing, staring straight ahead and trying to focus on the road, but damn Dean was hot.
Dean leaned down, mouthing at Cas through his boxers, nearly completely hard already. His open mouth was warm through the thin fabric and Cas wanted more. The heat of his mouth retreated for a second as Dean used his teeth to pull down the waistband of Cas’ boxers and expose his cock.
Cas only knew Dean had used his teeth because he had made the mistake of glancing down for a second, slamming on the brakes to stare at Dean.
Dean glared up at him through his lashes, “Keep driving.”
Cas nodded again and began driving forward slowly. Dean’s car, Dean’s rules. His breathing quickened as Dean began licking long, slow stripes up his shaft, but he managed to keep his eyes looking ahead as he navigated the bunker’s twisting driveway. Dean’s tongue circled the head of his cock, teasing. Cas was definitely completely hard now, and getting impatient. Dean suddenly swallowed Cas’ dick into his mouth, taking almost the whole length in one go and making Cas gasp.
He began bobbing up and down, tongue flat and throat relaxed so he could essentially fuck his mouth with Cas’ dick. Dean’s pace was slow, an ebb and flow of warmth and pleasure without ever completely pulling off Cas. It was far too slow for Cas’ taste, making him groan and buck up into Dean’s mouth. Cas wished he could look at what he knew was an obscene sight between his legs. He reached down, threading his fingers into Dean’s soft hair, about to begin guiding him at a faster pace like he’d done many times before.
Suddenly, Dean stopped completely, his mouth leaving Cas’ cock in a way that made Cas groan at the sudden lack of sensation.
“Both hands on the wheel,” Dean’s command was practically a growl and Cas found himself obeying before he could even protest.
Thankfully, Dean’s mouth began working as quickly as it had stopped, faster now and drawing a moan from Cas as he felt his dick hit the back of Dean’s throat. Cas gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as he maneuvered the Impala through the garage door.
He could tell he was close now, Dean seeming to swallow him deeper with every bob of his head. He hazarded a glance down as shifted into park and reached to remove the keys from the ignition. Dean’s mouth formed a tight ring as he popped the head of Cas’ cock out of his mouth like it was a lollipop.
“Keep her running,” Dean shot a wicked grin up at Cas, “Wouldn’t want anyone to hear you.”
Cas moaned as he was finally able to watch Dean take his cock in his mouth, his sharp nose buried in the coarse hair at its base, his green eyes watering slightly every time the head reached his throat. Cas ran his hand down Dean’s neck, along his tanned and muscled shoulders, scarred from years of fights and hunting mishaps. Sometimes he missed seeing his handprint seared into Dean’s skin, marking him as his property, Castiel’s. But even without the mark, he knew Dean was his.
Cas felt the heat coiling at the pit of his stomach as he watched this beautiful man take his cock like he was made for it. He gently squeezed the back of Dean’s neck as a warning but Dean just gave a minute nod and kept bobbing his head.
Cas came with a sound somewhere between a groan and a shout, making the hanging lights flicker and the Impala’s radio blast static for a second. Dean swallowed his cum, ensuring not a single drop touched the leather seat, leaving Cas panting for breath.
Without giving him a moment to recover, Dean tucked him back into his pants and clambered out of the passenger side.
Sam burst through the door that led to the rest of the bunker, “Did you feel that wave of energy? It was like–”
He stopped, glancing between the two of them and quickly connecting the dots, “Really guys? Again? Couldn’t you use Enochian warding so you don’t set off the bunker’s alarms every time? And in the car?! You know, I use it too. You–” He huffed through his nose, “That better be disinfected next time I’m here.”
Sam stomped away, slamming the door behind him.
Dean grinned, “Oops. I’m going to go take a shower.”
He flashed an inviting wink at Cas and spun to head into the main bunker, whistling as he climbed the steps.
Cas took the keys from the ignition, the Impala’s engine winding down smoothly. Even with the car off, Cas could swear he could still feel a satisfied vibration. Dean Winchester had a way of making powerful things purr.