Dean doesn't know what makes him love Castiel, really. It's not that he hasn't done anything to warrant his undue and probably unwelcome affections. It's just that every time he passes by, Dean finds his eyes closing and his lungs breathing just a bit deeper, hoping for the tiniest whiff of his scent. Or every time Cas says anything flirtatious to him in a joking manner, he finds his attention pulled towards Castiel's soft, full lips; his smooth, vein-ridden hands; the slope of his shoulders; the way his chest rhythmically expands and relaxes with every breath, filling his shirt and then coming to rest, the folds of fabric settling into place only to come back into motion only moments later. These thoughts he's kind of okay with. Well, that's not to say he doesn't resent himself for his emotions; the settling, heavy, constant pain he knows Castiel would feel if he found out he felt this way. Because he knows how much it sucks, having a person hang onto your every word, constantly texting and talking to you and never leaving you alone, when all you want is for them to forget about you. He's been in a few relationships before, but never in one he really wanted to be in. And he's always been the one who tries and tries again to get the other person to not have romantic feelings for him. It just - it sucks, he know? It fucking sucks that he feels this way. Because it just hurts so fucking much to know that he's never going to love Dean like Dean loves him. And he just knows that if he ever tries to find out how he does feel, he'll be causing him pain. So no, he's not really okay with those thoughts. But they're a whole lot better than the other ones. The ones that notice the way Cas's legs move beneath his pants, the way his unfortunate but rather beautiful chest gathers the fabric of his shirt, the way all of his leggings have panty lines because he hasn't bought boxers yet. The way all of his mens' jeans bunch up in the front because he doesn't have anything there to hold them in place. The way he knows that if he reached down, his pelvis would be solid in the front and soft on the bottom.
And maybe wet, too.
The thought comes out before he can help it. He almost gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. Slowly he comes back to reality. He extends his consciousness, feeling the bed beneath him, smelling the candles burning next to the bed, hearing his friends laughing, talking. He's at Castiel's house. They're having a party, playing truth or dare like the most fucking cliche teenagers. He's trying to remember if he's supposed to be doing anything when he hears his voice, Castiel's voice, feels his breath drifting across his cheek, the weight of his hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Dean's eyes fly open, terrified that Castiel might know what he's been thinking about. "What? Yeah, I'm fine." he manages to say. He can tell by the worry in Castiel's eyes that he's not convinced, but he lets it go. He feels the hand that's been resting on his shoulder slide down his back, causing him to have to fight a shudder. "Okay, well, it's your turn anyways. Truth or dare?" "Truth" he responds a little too quickly, terrified of what his weird-ass friends might make him do if he agrees to a dare. Maybe he'd dare you to kiss him. Or have sex with him. Or strip down right here, in front of everyone. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Maybe you should just do it anyways. The thought darts across his mind and he feels himself getting aroused against his will. He digs his fingers into his palms, even though he knows pain's not gonna help.
"Okay, um..." His voice brings Dean back to the present, and he can feel a blush spreading across his cheeks. Shut up! he silently admonishes. But he's still lost in his own thoughts when the next sentence comes, leaving him vividly unprepared. "What were you thinking about, a second ago? Your face looked really... upset."
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. He knows he can't back out on this one; his friends would get an answer out of him either way now that it's been brought to their attention. "Uh..." he says, fighting for time. "Um... I wasn't thinking about anyone."
"Anyone?" Castiel says, eyebrows raising. Fuck! "Anything! Wasn't thinking about anything." Dean yelps. Shitshitshit you fucked it up you fucked it up he totally knows now you're such a loser fuckfuckfuck! Cas's face curls into an exaggeratedly suspicious look. "Come on man, you gotta tell us." says one of his other friends. He can feel everyone's eyes on him. Hot tears prickle at the back of his eyelids while his face flushes, turning red. "Come on, tell us who you were thinking about at least!" He can feel Castiel's kind eyes on him, a playful smile glinting across them. He wonders if this will be the last time Castiel smiles at him. He opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. He can't think of any way to get out of this, so he just whispers "you" as quietly as he can, praying no one'll hear him. Everyone else leans in, complaining about how they couldn't hear what he said and can you say that again please. But one look into Cas's beautiful eyes tell him that he heard. Tears spring to Dean's eyes, falling onto his hands, folded in his lap. He feels Cas stand up next to him, and he can't even make himself look up. He knows what's going to happen next, he can feel it. Even if he's kind enough to keep you as a friend, he'll always treat you as something fragile and broken. He'll certainly never touch your shoulder again, or sit next to you. But something unexpected happens. He hears Cas's soft, gentle voice from his position on the bed, staring at his feet. "Hey guys, why don't you go down and get a snack or something? We'll be right down." He feels more people's weight leave the bed, leaving him alone with him as they file out. He expects him to laugh at him, or yell, or even hit him for embarrassing him in front of all his friends. Instead he sits down across from him, cupping his face in his hands and guiding his head upwards until he's looking into his eyes. Dean feels more tears leave his eyes, silently sliding down his face, but he looks at him. He searches for the humor or malice in Cas's eyes, but all he can see is kindness, maybe even... worry? affection? something else?
"What were you thinking about?" he asks him softly.
He tries to dip his head again, but he holds it firmly, his face cradled in his hands.
"You can tell me."
For some reason he finds himself believing him.
He begins to speak softly. The tears have stopped, but it still feels like he's crying, like all of the pent-up pain and worry is flowing out of him.
"I was thinking about... you... how beautiful you are... how... I know you'll never like me like I like you... and how... how..." he trails off. "How what?" Cas asks him softly, still cupping his face in his hands. Dean doesn't reply, terrified of his hands leaving his face, leaving him here, alone, vulnerable.
"How what, Dean?"
"...How.... how soft... and wet you'd be... if I touched you..."
Dean feels him hesitate, for just a second. It feels like his heart stops, every atom in him quivering, terrified of losing him forever.
Until he pulls his face forwards and kisses him.
In the millisecond while Cas pulls him in, a million thoughts battle in his head. It feels like he's dying, exploding from the inside out, a thousand voices in his head screaming indistinctly. He's struggling to breathe; each beat of his heart feeling like an eternity. He wants to cry out, to do something, to warn Castiel of what he's about to do. He knows that if their lips meet, Dean will never be able to let go of the feelings he has for Castiel. He will always and irreparably be in love with him, no matter what Cas thinks or feels or needs. But all of the thoughts go out like the switch of a light as soon as Cas's mouth meets his. He's kissed people before, but it's never been - like this. He's never enjoyed it before, and he's not even sure he does now. The curious sensation of Castiel's smooth, dry lips bordering the wetness of his mouth feels a bit... odd, like something he knows he could learn to love but just... hasn't yet. None of that really matters, though - at least not to him. Because he can feel him from here, feel the warm air that drifts in and out of his nose, the softness of his skin. He can almost hear their heartbeats mingling in the otherwise silent room, declaring the passion of the embrace. It feels like his entire body has been enveloped in a cloud of haze, his eyes unable to see clearly, as though he were in a dream. He decided right then and there that he wants to spend the rest of his life exploring Castiel, learning of all the bumps and dimples of his skin, where his pulse can be heard the most, the soft and hard places of his bones and muscles. Every spot where he likes to be touched and every spot he doesn't.
His thoughts are broken suddenly by Cas pulling away. He almost cries again at that; the anticipation of being left almost unbearable. Instead, he finds Cas pulling his body closer, their knees touching. He lingers on Dean's waist, slowly tracing his fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, feeling the soft glide of fabric on skin. He slides his hands down, under the hem of his shirt, bringing them back up again to rest in the same place. They just sit there for a moment, Cas savouring the sensation of Dean's smooth skin against his calloused hands, Dean becoming wetter by the second from the electric shudders the pads of Cas's fingertips are causing to course through his entire body.
"Do you think you'd like to see?"
Not waiting for a response, he lets go of his waist with just his left hand, which comes down to hold his right hand, guiding it towards his waist. Dean's breathing gets shallow. He's so aroused it hurts. It feels like his chest is being filled too full, over and over and over again, like a helium balloon. Suddenly bold, he finds himself kissing him again, closing his eyes while his heart races. Cas pulls back, resting his nose and forehead against Dean's, both their eyes half-closed while he guides his hand below his waistband, smoothly drifting down his skin until it meets the folds of his pussy. He exhales as Dean runs his fingers up and down his labia, soaking everything it touches with the wetness of his hole. He traces light circles all around his clit, teasing it with the very tips of his fingers. He thinks back to the many nights where he's laid in bed, listening to music from his old MP3 player, his eyes squeezed shut while he fingers himself, working circles on the base of his clit with two fingers over and over and over again until it only takes him seconds to come. Staying awake for hours until it feels more punishment than pleasure but never being able to stop, the very thought of Cas sending him tumbling back into a cruel, painful world of arousal. Choking out silent tears as he tries to convince himself that if he just goes once more, it'll be over; that the suffocating wetness seeping out onto his sheets will pass, that he doesn't really need Castiel to get through the night. The memories send a jolt of possessiveness throughout his bones, and before he knows what he's doing he's grabbing Cas's head, kissing him fiercely, climbing into his lap and forcing his chest down until Cas's only holding himself up by his elbows. He deepens the kiss furiously, not caring that the night might end and Castiel might tell everyone what Dean did to him. He just needs. Cas moans into the kiss, Dean pulls back to see his pupils blown wide despite the light of the room. So wide that he can barely see the clear blue irises he's fallen in love with so many times. He makes a half-sigh, half-squeak, a sound he'd be embarrassed of under any normal circumstance, but right now he's too far gone to care. He makes his way down Cas's chin, sucking at the side of his neck, kissing the spot where his Adam's apple should be, if this goddamn universe had any justice in it. His hands go to his waist, wanting to go under his shirt, but he hesitates. He knows full well that they both have a lot of top dysphoria (though he wouldn't mind if someone took his shirt off and ate him out while his breasts faced the ceiling, thank you very much), and as much as he just needs right now, he doesn't want to make Cas uncomfortable. He looks back up at Cas's face, trying and failing to come up with a way to eloquently ask him whether this is okay through the haze in his brain. "Um- is it- is it okay if I-"
"Go ahead" Castiel breathes out, cutting him off. "But- I know we're both dysphoric- and I just-"
"Dean." Castiel says in a serious tone, looking down at him. "It's okay. Go ahead. Just maybe keep my bra on, okay?"
"Y-yeah" is Dean's only response before he's shucking Castiel's shirt off faster than he thought possible. Since Cas's still propped up by his forearms, it gets stuck on them. He's too out of it to realize what the problem is, so he just kind of tugs at it a couple times before catching Castiel's eye. They both look at each other for a second before bursting out laughing. Cas sits up, bringing Dean with him. He takes his shirt off but gets his head stuck. They're both giggling like a pair of middle-school girls by the time Dean finally manages to untangle him. They take a moment to readjust, turning so that Cas's propped up on a pillow, his head a few inches from the wall. Dean laces his hands around Cas's neck, kissing him passionately before returning his attentions to his body. He notes the beautiful baby blue of his bra, pressing a quick kiss to Cas's cheek before continuing. Working his way down to his collarbone, he lets out a sigh before licking at the beautiful bone, sucking until he's sure he'll leave a mark. He grinds his pelvis on Cas's thighs - a pointless gesture, seeing as the only place he'll really get pleasure from is the underside - but he's just so needy. He shifts the position of his head, wanting to lick and suck at the little gulley between Cas's collarbone and his neck, but he's so overwhelmed with need that he almost involuntarily sits back up, his breath increasingly shallow. He's not quite sure what he's saying, it feels like words are flying out of his mouth faster than he can think about them. "So- I mean- You know- I- I'm a switch- and I- I really want to top you- I just-"
"You just what?" asks Cas, a bit amused at how flustered Dean's getting.
"You know- I just- you're really hot- and you know I, I really want to do stuff to you first- I just- by the end of the night- I just think I'm gonna- you know- need something..." Dean trails off, mortified at the words that just came out of his mouth. Cas chuckles a little, sitting up, cutting him off with a kiss.
"Are you asking me to top you?"
"Well- no- I mean, yes- I just- I want to top you too, I..."
Cas kisses him again, somehow tender and wild at the same time.
"Yes Dean. I'll top you. In fact, I... um..."
This time it's Cas's turn to be flustered. "You what?"
"Well... um... I might just possibly have brought things with me every time I go anywhere with you. Just- you know, in case..."
Dean feels like he might be exploding all over again. "You mean... you thought about this, too?"
Cas looks at him uncertainly for a moment before swatting him playfully. "Yeah you asshole, I thought about this too."
Dean doesn't really know how to respond to that. He knows he wants to explore those feelings - the feelings Cas has for you? Oh my god oh my god holy shit I- but at the moment, he's far too wet to do anything except dive back down, licking at Cas's protruding hips. Which seem to be quite sensitive, because Cas's breath turns shallow, deep moans coming with each exhale. And fuck, Dean didn't think he could possibly be any more aroused than he already is, but he guesses this night is holds more than one first thing. He looks up at Cas, pupils blown wide. "You like that, huh?" he almost growls. Cas full-on moans at that, throwing his head back. "Please Dean- holy shit, I just- please keep going-" He's quickly cut off by another moan as Dean nips at his hip bone before pulling down his pants and underwear all in one go, sliding them off of Cas's bare feet and tossing them next to the shirt. He goes back up to his left hip bone, licking little strips all the way down to the inside of his left thigh. Cas's hips buck up at that, his wetness apparent even from the closed lips of his pussy. And Dean really wants to keep going with the foreplay but, fuck it. He positions himself directly between Cas's legs, inserting his tongue right to the entrance of his hole and licking upwards, spreading his pussy with his hands so he can lick right at his clit. He's lost track of all the moans and oh fucks and gasps Cas's been uttering because he's just so fucking lost in Cas. He's had sex once or twice - once in ninth grade, when his boyfriend of three months fingered him while watching Buffy, and once in tenth grade, when the same boyfriend (after about twenty breakups, each lasting anywhere from two days to three weeks) fucked him in his brother's bed while his brother was hooking up with his girlfriend in his mom's car - but he's never eaten someone out. He decides it's his new favourite activity, though that could just be Castiel. Everything with Castiel is always his new favourite thing, so he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. He keeps licking and sucking and Cas's pussy, rolling his tongue into a tiny cigar and inserting it into his hole. He moves back up to his clit and just sucks, making tiny dots, stripes, and swirls around it with his tongue while he does. And just like that, Cas's coming, thankfully not squirting all over his bed but definitely getting Dean's face a bit wet. Dean wipes it off with a tissue from the box perpetually sitting on the windowsill before kissing Cas sweetly (oh, come on, everyone's tasted themselves before). Cas's eyes are still half closed, but he lifts his face to kiss Dean, enveloping him in a hug. "Do you want to go again?" Dean asks him softly. "We can try something else too if you want." Cas shakes his head. "No, I uh. Could I. Top you now?" Dean grins inwardly, taking off his shirt and pants, leaving him exposed in just his soft black sports bra and a pair of Sam's boxers (yes, it's kind of weird, but it's not like Dad would let me buy my own, he reasons.) "What do you want me to do?" he asks, his breath turning shallow again. "Um- just- gimme a sec" Cas says, slipping off the bed and over to his bag. He returns holding two items. Dean has to blink a couple times to make sure he's seeing correctly. "Is that...?"
"It's. Um. A rabbit vibrator. I just. We don't have to do this if you don't want to. I just thought - I mean, I bought this... for you, and I just- I don't know, maybe if you wanted to..." He trails off.
"Are you kidding me?" Dean says. He practically jumps on Cas, pulling him back onto the bed. "I'd love to. You really... bought this for me?" he asks, turning his wonder-filled eyes towards the beautiful boy sitting in front of him. "I mean... yeah..." Cas says sheepishly, not sure what he should say or do. Dean kisses him passionately, flicking at his lips with his tongue this time.
"You're making me feel bad about just eating you out."
"Oh, what? Dean, no! That was- I mean, that was amazing, I don't-"
Dean cuts him off, laying back down on the bed, his legs wrapping around Cas, inviting him in. "Cas. Please. Fuck me. I need you."
"Yeah. I- yeah." Cas stutters before attaching the strap-on to his pelvis and lubing it up. He wants to do some foreplay first, to make Dean feel as good as he made him feel, but Dean's already pulling his hands towards him, guiding him as he takes off his boxers and pulling him forwards by his hips. He sits up, and Cas sits back against the wall. Dean clambers on top of him, switching the vibrator on and lining his pussy up with the rounded tip of it. "Please Cas, I know I'm going really fast I just... I'm already so wet from all the stuff we just did, please Cas please I just need you to fuck me." He doesn't even really realize what he's saying, how needy his voice is getting, he just knows he needs Cas so fucking bad right now. With a soft growl Cas thrusts his hips up, taking Dean by surprise. He lets out a high, keening whine, grinding down on the vibrator, feeling the smooth silicone ears on his clit. He whimpers, fucking himself as best he can while still keeping the ears on him, because if he doesn't come right fucking now he thinks he might explode. "Please fuck me sir" he whines without trying. Suddenly jolted back to the moment, he stops moving, gasps, realizing what he just said. "Oh my god Cas I'm so sorry I didn't - I don't-" he stutters incoherently, the buzz of the vibrator making him want to scream. He feels tears, wishes he could just disappear here and now. You fucked it up again, didn't you? You had it all right there, and you just fucked it all up.
"Dean." Cas says. "Dean, listen to me. It's okay Dean, please just listen to me it's okay, don't cry it's all okay." Dean forces himself to look at him. "Cas I'm sorry it's just - I know I'm a freak I just find it hot, and I-"
"Dean!" Cas says again. "Dean just listen to me! It's okay, I find it hot too. You're okay."
"R-really?" Dean stutters. This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. And yes, he knows he sounds like a fool, but that fucking goddamn vibrator is still on and he thinks that if they don't get back to Cas fucking him he might just fucking die.
"Yeah, Dean. Really. It's all okay. I just- let's keep going, ok? I can see how wound up that vibe's getting you." Dean almost sobs with relief "Yeah I- can you fuck me properly? I think I'm gonna go insane soon if I don't come." Cas's eyes darken. His fingers dig into Dean's hips as he flips them over and starts fucking him at an insane pace. Dean almost screams at that, his eyes rolling upwards and going unfocused. "Oh my god sir please I really need to come sir please please please let me come" he gasps out, eyes glassy with tears of pleasure. (Well, not that he could really stop himself from coming. But, you know, a formality.)
"It's ok Dean, you can come." are the last words Dean hears before he full on screams with pleasure. His vision goes dark. The heat in the middle of his stomach he always hears about but has never felt in real life fucking blossoms. It feels like he has to swim his way back into consciousness before he can finally resurface. As soon as he's awake enough to move, though, he's climbing onto Cas's lap, kissing him over and over and over again all over his face (Cas was merciful enough to have turned the vibrator off and set it aside by the time Dean came to.) "Thank you Cas, thank you so much, that was so amazing I just-"
Cas cuts him off with a laugh. "It's okay, Dean. I very much enjoyed it too." He kisses him back properly, the kiss soft and tender. "Listen to me, let's get ourselves cleaned up enough to go downstairs with the others. You can stay the night, and once they all leave we'll take a shower, okay?" Dean nods his head. He doesn't know why he feels so ridiculously small and submissive, but he's sure as hell not going to question it. "Yeah okay, that sounds good."
Cas gives him one last kiss on the forehead before leaving the room to get a washcloth. He cleans them up, wiping the sweat and wetness from Dean's body and then his own. Pulling on his own clothes, he cleans the vibrator and puts it and the lube away before returning to Dean's side and helping him back into his. They exit the room (being sure to spray a bit of Lysol around the bed before they go) and walk downstairs, Cas's hand on the small of Dean's back. Dean never wants it to leave. But it does, of course, just in time for them to walk in on a group of teenagers drinking soda and very decidedly not looking at the pair. "Um, guys? Hello?" Dean asks, seriously weirded out. Their friends exchange glances before all bursting out laughing. "...Guys?"
One of their friends pipes up. "Did you guys have a nice chat?" Tiny bouts of laughter are heard all around again. Cas sighs. "Guys..." Dean turns to Cas, terrified this was all some cruel practical joke. Before he can open his mouth to say anything, though, the same boy interjects. "It's nothing! We're just glad you're feeling better."
Dean's still uneasy, but he lets it slide. Until around midnight, when most of their friends have gone. As the last one goes to leave, though, he makes the mistake of curling up just a bit closer to Cas. The boy turns to them and, seeing the position Dean's in, smirks. Hurt, a thousand thoughts go through Dean's head. Are we going to tell them? Do they already know? Is he homophobic? Of course he's not homophobic you little shit, he's gay! Does he think Cas isn't right for you? The thoughts are interrupted by the boy's next sentence. "Just wanted to let you know we all love and support you no matter what." He turns to go again, making it to the doorframe before turning back around. "And I'm sure you had a great friend-to-friend talk! Just might want to keep it down the next time things get a little... kinky." He's gone before Dean can respond. Now alone, he turns to Cas in mortification. Cas chuckles. "Well, you were a bit... loud. In a good way! But yes, loud."
And if Dean might have playfully smacked him before kissing him deeply, well. Nobody needs to know.