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Dean sprawled on the shitty hotel bed, wishing he was back at the bunker. He missed his memory foam mattress. He took another swig of beer, grimacing because it'd sat long enough to get warm. He sighed, and picked up the tv remote. At least Sammy was getting' lucky, he thought sourly. He'd given Dean that shy little grin, tossing a 'don't wait up' as he went out the door, keys to the Impala in hand. Eh, it's not like Dean could say anything, the last hunt he'd gotten lucky with that waitress at the restaurant. But it meant that he was alone tonight, drinking warm beer and watching informercials on tv.
A commercial caught his eye, then. Some kind of online lingerie shop, but what grabbed his attention were the panties. He hadn't bought anything new in awhile. Usually he carved out time on hunts to hit up boutiques while Sam was busy elsewhere. It was easy to say he was buying something special for his girlfriend, when he was really buying for him. Curious, he grabbed Sam's laptop and pulled up the site. He felt like a kid in a candy store when he saw all the options. It'd be tricky to order from an online place though; he couldn't really list the bunker as a shipping address. Maybe he could sneak out to Lebanon and rent a P.O. Box? He could always throw some cash on one of those temporary cards so the purchases couldn't be tracked. Grinning to himself, he started perusing the site, his dick twitching with interest at the seemingly endless array of colors, styles, and fabrics. His breath hitched when he stopped on a mesh number, hot pink polka dotted with darker pink lace trim. The back had a caged design with dark pink satin straps. Oh, man, he could just imagine how those would feel, the silky straps hugging the top of his ass, the mesh dragging across the tip of his sensitive head every time he moved. He closed his eyes, palming his crotch as he lost himself to the thought, so engrossed he didn't hear the rustle of feathers or fabric.
“Hello, Dean,” came a gravelly voice right next to him.
“What the fuck?” Dean yelped, eyes snapping open, jerking his hand away from his crotch like it burned. He looked up at Cas, standing right by the bed. The angel was looking at the laptop screen with a frown, head tilted and eyes squinted.
“Those are very pretty, Dean,” he said, while Dean gaped at him like a landed trout.
Feeling his face flame, Dean quickly slammed shut the laptop and shoved it away from him, before glaring up at Cas. “Dude, seriously, what the fuck? You couldn't have called or something?” A sudden, horrible thought occurred to him. “You saw nothing, Cas,” he growled, pointing a finger at him. “You saw nothing, you heard nothing, and we pretend this didn't happen.”
“But Dean-”
“No buts, Cas! Never happened. Period, end of story.” He looked away from the angel then, arms crossed. His face still burned with embarassment, but he was pissed, too. Who the fuck did he think he was, barging in on people unannounced? What if he'd been jerking off, or something? He mentally winced, because he knew that's probably exactly where he was heading before Cas showed up.
“Dean.”
Dean looked up at Cas, who still stood there looking at him like nothing was wrong. “What?” he spat.
“I may not know much about being human, but I've watched your kind for centuries. You're not the first man to like women's undergarments. You'll not the the last. It's nothing to be ashamed of.”
Dean groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Seriously, man, drop it.”
“No, Dean, I want you to know that it's completely fine that you like to wear women's underwear.”
Dean froze, horror creeping through his chest. “What did you say?”
“I said, it's fine that you like to wear women's underwear.”
“How did you, you can't, I mean, I don't,” he stuttered, looking up at Cas with sheer terror on his face.
Cas smiled then, and reached out to him, cupping his cheek in one palm. “I've known since I was human and you let me borrow clothes at the bunker. I didn't mean to find them, but while I was getting a pair of your boxers I found your panties.”
“Fuck,” Dean croaked. He'd forgotten about that, about telling Cas to help himself to whatever was in there. He'd thought they were still shoved to the back of the drawer, but with finally having his own room, his own space, he'd gotten a little careless. Unbidden, the thought of Cas touching his panties, pulling them out to look at them, made him shut his eyes and groan. What if Cas had pictured Dean in them? Would he like it? Shaking his head hard, he forced his eyes open and looked at Cas, who was watching him impassively.
“Sammy doesn't know,” he said pleadingly. “Please don't tell him.”
Cas actually looked hurt. “Of course not, Dean. I would never violate your trust in that way. I wouldn't have mentioned that I knew, but I thought you heard me enter, and with the way you were looking at other panties I thought you wouldn't care that I knew.”
“It's uh, not something I tell anybody. Ever.” He scrubbed a rough hand over his face.
“Can I ask why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do you wear them? Do you like to wear other women's clothing, as well?”
Dean snorted. “Dude, no. I dunno, I just like them. I like the way they fit, I like the way they feel.” He sighed. “My life's so damn ugly, all the time, it's nice to know there's a part of me that's not, I guess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “I mean, I like it, I get off on it, but I wear 'em sometimes just because, you know?”
Cas nodded, as if he understood. “Are you wearing them now?”
Groaning, Dean covered his face in his hands. “Dude, don't ask me shit like that.”
“Tell me.”
Dean looked up, caught by something in the angel's tone. When he met Cas' eyes, he was struck by the intensity of his stare, more so than normal. It was almost predatory, hungry, and it made Dean's mouth go dry and his pulse kick up a notch. He swallowed hard, and whispered, “Yes.”
“Describe them to me.”
Dean closed his eyes briefly, feeling a shudder run through him at the want he heard in Cas' voice. He looked up at Cas, licking his suddenly dry lips. “They're blue.” Blue like the color of your eyes,he thought. “Blue satin with white lace trim.”
Blue eyes burned into green. “May I see them?”
Dean's heart raced, and he practically felt all the blood in his body racing down towards his dick. He felt like he could hammer nails, he was so hard. Wordlessly, he nodded.
Cas seemed to be in no better shape than Dean. His breathing was ragged, and a flush spread from the collar of his dress shirt up the sides of his face. When Dean glanced down, he wasn't surprised to see a very prominent bulge in the angel's slacks. His hands were fisted at his side, clenched tightly, as if he had to restrain himself from reaching out to touch. Dean popped the button on his jeans, and with shaking fingers grabbed the zipper and slowly pulled it down, hissing in relief as his aching dick had a bit more freedom. He looked down at himself, seeing he'd already made a wet spot in the satin. A whimper from Cas made him look back up. Cas was trembling, a fine tremor that would have been hard to spot had you not been looking for it. His knuckles were white with the strain of keeping his hands clenched.
“Let me see all of them, Dean, please,” Cas said hoarsely, his voice almost a croak. A light sheen of sweat coated his face now.
Dean took a deep breath. He knew that this would be crossing a line, that things would never be the same after this, but he was so turned on he didn't care. He'd deal with the fall out later. “Only if you touch me,” he said softly, looking up at Cas, letting his own hunger and want fill his eyes, “and let e touch you.”
Cas' eyes widened, and he jerked his head, swallowing rapidly. Without prompting he shucked off his trench coat and suit jacket, and yanked off his tie. He started unbuttoning his shirt, but then got impatient and just yanked, sending buttons flying across the room. He kicked off his shoes and toed off his socks, and ripped his pants when he couldn't get the zipper open fast enough. All the while Dean watched with his mouth open, his arousal growing at each bit of flesh Cas revealed.
Cas finally paused, his hands on the waistband of the plain white boxers he wore. He looked at Dean, tilting his head in question. Dean suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing and yanked his shirt off over his head, before raising his hips and pushing his already open jeans down his hips and off his legs. He started to take off the panties, but Cas stopped him, growling, “Leave them on.” He looked up, and for the second time that evening felt all the spit dry up in his mouth. While he was taking off his jeans, Cas had removed his boxers, and fuck he was gorgeous. He wasn't as long as Dean, but he was thicker, and it was so hard it curved up and to the left, almost hugging his hipbone.
Slowly, as if Dean was a wild creature who might spook, Cas crawled up the bed, until his body caged Dean's. Slowly, he dipped his head towards the other man's, clearly letting him know his intentions and giving him the chance to back out. Seeing none, Cas closed the last few inches and softly placed his mouth on Dean's. Dean groaned, feeling Cas' body slowly sink onto his, as Cas licked into his mouth as if it were the most delicious thing ever. He twitched his hips, and the feel of his satin clad dick rubbing against Cas' hardness made him see stars. Judging by the sharp intake of breath, Cas liked the way that felt too. Cas moved his hips against Dean's, causing both men to cry out at the feel.
“You're so beautiful, Dean, so good,” Cas murmured, as he planted small kisses on Dean's neck and shoulder. “So beautiful for me.”
“God, Cas,” Dean whimpered, reaching up to tangle his fingers in the other man's hair. It was thick and soft, and he tugged at it gently when Cas nipped his collar bone. “Fuck, man, you're killing me here.”
“Tell me what you want, Dean,” Cas said, laving his left nipple with the flat of his tongue, causing Dean to cry out. “Tell me what you need.”
“You, fuck, I need you, I need you, Cas,” he breathed, arching his back and drowning in the twin sensation of Cas' mouth on his nipple and his dick rubbing against his.
“How do you need me, Dean?” Cas asked, his tone dark and teasing, as he scraped his teeth across the flat bud. He looked up at Dean though his lashes, watching Dean watch him as he swirled his tongue around his nipple.
“Fuck me, Cas, fuck me, please,” he begged. He could come just like this, he knew he could, but it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted Cas, wanted to feel him.
“I think that can be arranged,” he said, giving Dean and honest to Chuck smirk. He slowly moved down Dean's body, and his mouth hovered over Dean's panty clad dick, making Dean whine. Locking eyes with Dean, he licked a stripe right up the hard outline, over the satin, and Dean nearly came right then and there. “Patience,” Cas murmured. He lifted off then, grabbing Dean's hips gently. “Get on your hands and knees for me.”
Dean scrambled quickly to obey, shaking a little in anticipation. “There's lube in the nightstand,” he said, and Cas nodded, reaching over and pulling the tube from the drawer. Dean rested his forehead on the pillow underneath him, waiting.
Gentle hands caressed his sides, feather light, making him shiver. He sighed when he felt soft kissed pressed along his spine, from his shoulders down to the swell of his ass. Through it all he heard Cas murmuring, words like 'beautiful', 'lovely', 'good'. There were other words in there he didn't recognize, and he wondered briefly if Cas was speaking in Enochian. All thoughts went out the window when Cas' hands slid over his satin covered ass. He hissed in a breath as Cas traced the fabric down the cleft, before gently cupping his balls and rolling them in his hand.
“Please, Cas, please,” Dean begged, not even sure at this point what he was begging for. Everywhere Cas touched seemed to leaving a burning trail straight to his aching dick. He'd never wanted, no needed, to get off so badly in his life.
Finally, finally, he felt Cas pull the panties down over his ass. When Dean went to palm his erection, Cas swatted his hand away. “No touching unless I tell you to.” When Dean groaned at the command, Cas pressed soothing kisses to his lower back. “It will be worth it, Dean, I promise.”
Dean heard the tell-tale click of the cap, but he still hissed when he felt the coolness against his fevered flesh. Cas worked him open gently, taking his time, making sure Dean was ready before adding another finger. “I wish you could see how beautiful you are, Dean, how well you open for me,” Cas crooned, slowly pumping two fingers in and out, scissoring them to make more room.
“Cas please, more,” Dean gasped, rocking back on the fingers inside him. The fucker kept just missing his prostate, and by now Dean knew the bastard had to be doing it on purpose. He groaned, long and loud, when Cas added a third finger, and in doing so lightly brushed that bundle of nerves. Dean bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, panting hard as he tried to stave off his orgasm. “Cas, man, I'm ready, please, I need you,” he babbled, rocking back hard on the angel's fingers. Even though he knew it was only temporary, he still found himself whining when Cas removed his fingers, leaving him empty and aching.
“Shh,” Cas soothed, and Dean heard the cap click again, and knew Cas was slicking himself up. Finally, finally, he felt the blunt head at his entrance, and sighed in relief as Cas slowly started to push his way in.
“So perfect, so good, so beautiful,” Cas said, over and over as he sank, inch by inch, into Dean. It seemed like forever and no time at all before he was fully sheathed, his hip snug against Dean's ass.
“Move, Cas, please, I need you to move,” Dean begged, wanting to feel it.
Cas groaned, and pulled out slowly, before easing back in just as slow.
Dean gritted his teeth. “Cas, I'm not gonna fuckin' break, now move!” he growled, as he shoved his hips back into Cas, sinking back onto his dick.
“Fuck,” Cas breathed, before taking Dean at his word and set up a brutal pace, his hips snapping hard into Dean, skin slapping against skin and his fingers on Dean's hips hard enough to bruise. Dean hung on for dear life, Cas shoving into him so hard he was actually scooting forward on the bed. Suddenly, Cas wrapped both hands around Dean's torso, and hauled him up, until his back was against the angel's chest, and Cas pistoned his hips up into Dean, the new angle causing him to drive right into his prostrate on every thrust. Dean howled, cursing, “Fuck, Cas, I'm gonna come, I need to come, please motherfucker, let me come!”
Cas' breath was harsh in his ear, but the low growl made Dean's toes curl. “Come for me, Dean. Come for me now.” The command, punctuated with a deep thrust against the sensitive bundle of nerves shoved Dean headlong over the edge, screaming as he came untouched, his release soaking his panties. Two, three more thrusts and Cas followed him, coming with a hoarse cry of “Su vah nah miga!” that made Dean writhe again as he felt Cas painting his insides.
Exausted, Dean dropped back down on his hands and knees, before flopping onto his side, only whimpering a little as he felt Cas slip out. He closed his eyes, but smiled as he felt Cas against his back, spooning him. He lay there, catching his breath, as Cas traced his fingers up and down his torso. They lay quietly for a few minutes, before Dean broke the silence.
“Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“What was that, that you said right as you, you know?”
Cas was uncharacteristically quiet. Dean opened his eyes and looked over his shoulder, and was surprised to see Cas blushing, looking anywhere but at Dean. When he saw Dean frowning at him, he looked away again. “You weren't supposed to hear that.”
Dean grinned at him then. “Kinda hard not to when you yelled it. I'm pretty sure the whole hotel heard it. So what was it?”
“Nothing of importance.”
Dean smirked at the stubborn look on Cas' face. He turned in the other man's arms, placing soft kisses on his jaw. “C'mon, at this point, it'd be fair trade for knowing about my panty fetish.”
Cas sighed, closing his eyes and drawing away, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, his back facing Dean. His head dipped, and his voice was full of resignation. “It's Enochian.”
“I figured that much. What did it mean?”
“I...I don't want to tell you.”
“What? Why not?” Dean frowned, sitting up. “It can't be that bad.”
“You won't like it. I don't want to taint what we have here, so please drop it, Dean.”
Dean was silent a moment, taken aback. Finally he said quietly, “Did you not like it?”
Cas actually turned around at that, his eyes wide with surprise. “No, that's not it at all, Dean, please, don't think that. I enjoyed it very much.”
Dean let out a silent breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. “So, you'd want to do this again? With me?” He knew he was going out on a limb here, but now that he'd lived out one of his deepest darkest fantasies, he sure as hell didn't want it to be a one time thing. What Sam didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?
As if picking up on Dean's line of thought, Cas frowned. “I would very much like to do this again, but I don't want to be your secret, Dean. I-” he stopped, looking away briefly, before looking back up at Dean. “I care very much for you, but not enough to be something you keep in the dark.”
Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It'd be easier if this was a one and done, man, not gonna lie. But,” he paused, scrubbing the same hand over his face, “I'm not gonna sit here and tell you that I want that, either. It'd be easier, sure, keeping it hidden, but at the same time, I kinda don't want to. But since I'm having my chick flick moment here, I'm a fucking coward. I'm fucking terrified.”
Cas crept closer on the bed, sitting cross legged next to Dean and touching his arm gently. “What are you afraid of? I highly doubt Sam would care who you were with, as long as you were happy.”
“That's part of it, but I'm also scared of fucking things up. I'm no good at the relationship thing, Cas, I fuck up every good thing I've touched. Look at how many times the two of us have hurt each other. How many times you've left, how many times I've told you to go. How many times we've turned on each other.”
“Yet we always come back to each other,” Cas said gently, reaching out and touching Dean's face. At his touch, Dean turned to face him and Cas brushed his lips against the other man's. “We always find our way back, we always find a way to forgive each other. Isn't that what's important?”
Dean closed his eyes at the words whispered against his lips. He let out a shuddering breath, his eyes still closed. “Everybody I love leaves me, Cas. It would break me if you left for good.”
“I've always come back to you, Dean, always.” He rested his forehead against Dean's, sighing. “Su vah nah miga is Enochian for 'I love you'.”
Startled green eyes flew up to meet his. “You love me?”
“Yes, Dean. I always have.”
“But why didn't you...I mean, why did you never tell me?”
Cas leveled a stern look at Dean. “If I had told you when we first met, when you were fresh from Hell, that I had fallen in love with the brightness of your soul, from feeling your soul cradled in my grace, would you have believed me? You had enough trouble believing I was who I said I was. Then there was your deeply ingrained and flawed idea of masculinity instilled by your father. I never thought that there was a chance of you reciprocating my feelings, let alone being comfortable enough to hear them.”
Dean winced. “No, I mean, I get it, you're right, I wouldn't have. Honestly, if it hadn't been for, well, this, we'd probably still not be having this conversation.” He leaned forward and kissed Cas, soft and sweet. “I can't promise anything. I can't say I won't be a raging dick to you. I can't say that I'll be okay with PDA in public, because I probably won't be, at least not at first, if ever. But,” he took a deep breath, looking up at Cas, “I want to try. I don't know if I can say the words,” he trailed off, looking down at his lap. “But know that I feel the same way.”
“You do?” Hope tinged the angel's voice, and Dean looked up, giving the angel a small smile.
“Yeah, Cas, I do.”
Suddenly he had a lapful of happy angel, kissing him soundly. It made him laugh, but it also made him remember that he had panties that were rapidly becoming uncomfortable as they dried. “Cas, man, lemme up, we need to clean up.”
“I can take care of that,” Cas said, waving a hand and using his angel mojo to clean up the mess.
“Yeah, that's handy,” Dean said with a laugh, laying back down and pulling Cas with him. “Stay with me?” he asked, kissing Cas softly on the forehead.
“Always, Dean,” he replied, snuggling against the other man's chest. “I'll watch over you.”
Contented and sated, Dean pressed another sleepy kiss into Cas' hair, and let sleep take him over.
~~
Sam quietly unlocked the door, doing his best to keep the noise down and not wake his brother up as he crept into the room. He stopped dead in his tracks as he turned around and saw Dean and Cas tangled around each other in Dean's bed, their clothes and shoes strewn around the bed. I fucking knew it! he thought to himself, doing a small fist pump. Grinning to himself, he grabbed his duffle and his stuff from the bathroom, and went to the front desk to see about another room. While he was happy for his brother and his friend finally getting their heads out of their asses, that didn't mean he wanted to see... stuff. He let himself grin again at how much shit he'd be able to give Dean as he softly closed the door behind him.