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The Other Kind of Purgatory

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Castiel knew from the moment Gabriel suggested the outing that their destination would be somewhere...lascivious. And he was by no means disappointed.

The sign over the door read Purgatory but at least it wasn't outfitted in glowing neon letters, and what Gabriel had described as a "classy drinking establishment" turned out to be a strip club. 

When Castiel pointed that out, however, Gabe had simply returned, "It is a classy drinking establishment, just with added nudity."

Either way, the décor wasn't too over the top - a raised central platform surrounded by clusters of small tables and chairs, with a bar along the left wall and leather upholstered booths along the right - and the music, while not to Castiel's taste, wasn't overbearingly loud. The lights were dim, but spot lighting set a pleasant gleam on the stage, which was currently unoccupied.

"Not too shabby, eh?" Gabriel murmured, leaning in close, more for the sake of privacy than in order to be heard over the clamour of the patrons.

"I do not have any prior experiences from which to draw an accurate opinion," Castiel replied, and he could practically hear his brother rolling his eyes, "but I find it pleasant enough."

"That's a start," Gabe grinned, throwing an arm over his shoulders. He gestured to a front row table whose occupants were leaving, said "Grab us a seat and I'll be right back with some drinks," and then disappeared somewhere to Castiel's left, weaving through the small crowd like a seasoned pro. After a moment Castiel obliged, hurrying towards the table and ducking his head to avoid curious looks shot his way, where he settled into the empty seats quietly, feeling conspicuous in his hastily assembled suit and trench coat.

The next act began before Gabriel's return, leaving Castiel to look up alone as the club's lights dimmed and the spotlights over the stage lit up.

A figure sauntered onstage from behind a dark curtain, silhouetted by the lighting but clearly broad and muscular. As he got further onstage the lights caught his face and Castiel's breath caught in his chest.

This was undeniably the most handsome- no, the prettiest man he'd ever seen.

Sure, the man on-stage was as masculine as he'd first appeared, and between the slight stubble and strong jaw he could never be called feminine, but his full pink lips, gleaming wetly in the bright lights, and his green eyes, surrounded by lashes that cast shadows on his cheeks, were beautiful. His tan skin gleamed dully where it wasn't covered by the simple black t-shirt - tight enough so as to cling to the contours of his chest and back - and his leather pants left practically nothing to the imagination, looking as though they'd been painted on.

Castiel's mouth was so dry he was almost relieved when Gabriel slipped into the seat next to his and slid a beer across the table. He reached from it mechanically, and took a quick mouthful without looking away from the man on-stage.

"Like what you see?" Gabe chuckled in a light undertone, but Castiel was too transfixed to bother with a reply.

The music built slowly and the man began to move, body undulating in sinful rolls and quick lithe movements that made Castiel's skin feel one size too small. He worked the crowd, a grin twisting his gorgeous mouth and his eyes alight with mischief as they lit upon customers. His dancing was unlike anything Castiel had had the pleasure of seeing, but it was undeniably skilful, and he almost felt like he'd become adjusted to it when the man skimmed fingers down his own chest, catching the hem of his shirt and lifting it slowly, teasingly, revealing a glimpse of defined abs, before turning his back and removing it in one practised pull that made the muscles of his back ripple.

When he turned back Castiel hardly knew where to direct his eyes. Roaming hungrily across a muscular torso that could rival Michaelangelo's David, taking in the firm pecs and small round nipples, the washboard abs, and the sharp jut of his hip bones that drew Castiel's eyes down, down, down to the skin-tight pants and the undeniable bulge of his groin.

"Wow, don't you wish he charged by the hour," Gabe muttered under his breath, and suddenly Castiel was picturing that man spread out beneath him, that dazzling torso his to touch and taste and-

Castiel took a hard swallow of beer, wincing at the crude taste, and willed the erection tenting his trousers to abate.

A minute or two must've passed, with the man twisting himself into different positions that made Castiel catch his breath over again, before turning his back to the crowd and grinding out in a wide circle so the curvature of his ass strained suggestively against the leather. At that Castiel had to swallow a groan, and then before he'd had time to take a settling breath the man was facing outwards again, hands moving assuredly to the fastenings of the pants and tearing them off in a single quick movement.

Newly bared, tanned, toned thighs and calves gleamed from the tightness of their former coverings, and the silky black underwear he wore turned out to be a g-string as he ground round in a teasing circle to make sure everyone got another look at his perfect rear.

Castiel was in a state of intense arousal and shock, and then the music reached a crescendo, the man's seductive movements bringing him to the front of the stage, barely a metre or two from where Castiel sat, close enough for him to inhale a hint of sweat and male musk that made his mouth water and his pulse jump erratically.

There must've been some sort of signal that Castiel didn't catch, because suddenly women were crowding closer, scattering dollar bills onto his chest as he lowered his undulating body onto the stage briefly, before getting up onto his knees and leaning in close to the women who were more than happy to tuck more notes into the top of his underwear.

He got up, moving around the front of the stage, giving those bold enough to come close their fill, before rising and gathering the money with subtle movements that didn't at all cheapen his act. The man was nearby when Gabe shoved a few notes into Castiel's hand and nudged him forward with a push on the shoulder, and then Castiel was leaning in as the man turned around, their face's barely a foot apart, and extending the money. The man's eyes widened as they took him in, tongue flicking out to wet his lips in a manner that made Castiel yearn suddenly. The man reached out, but his hand went to grip Cas' backwards tie, pulling him in close so he could murmur softly in Castiel's ear, "I hope you enjoyed the show," before pulling back and accepting the money from Cas' suddenly lax grip. And then he was curving an amused smirk and striding back to the curtain to disappear backstage.

Castiel sank back in his chair with a little sigh, and didn't miss Gabe's low laugh.

"I didn't expect you to enjoy this quite so much, little brother," Gabriel chuckled, whiskey-coloured eyes brimming with amusement, lips twisted into a broad grin.

"Do you-" Castiel cleared his throat, voice hoarse, which triggered another short chortle from his brother, before saying again, "Do you come here often?"

"Not really," Gabe shrugged, taking a drink as he settled comfortably into his chair, "just every once in a while, always worth it when I do though."

Castiel nodded, drinking another swig of beer. He could most definitely see the merits of visiting such establishments on occasion. He might even be persuaded into returning to Purgatory again if that man was a regular performer.

"Good show tonight, Winchester," murmured the bar's owner, Crowley - a dark-haired, dark-eyed, Englishman with an eye for on-stage talent - as Dean headed back to the changing rooms.

"Thanks," he shot over his shoulder, hurrying through the short hallway to the prep room. He was already collecting the 'tips' from where they were tucked into his underwear as he stepped through the door. Some of the guys grinned at him, whistling as he made a show of fanning himself with the cash. He headed over to his table, laughing to himself, and grabbed some clean clothes to wear. He'd need a shower as soon as he was home, but the worn jeans and old t-shirt would do until then.

"Sounds like a good night, Dean," Benny grinned, nudging his shoulder.

Benny Lafitte had worked at Purgatory since before Dean started, and he had the skills to go with it - plus, the ladies (and guys) went crazy from that Southern drawl.

"Not bad," Dean agreed, tucking the reasonable wad into his wallet and getting to his feet. It had been his last set of the night, which meant he was free to have a drink or two before heading home if he liked, and that night he felt like maybe having a beer - which had absolutely nothing to do with a certain guy with sky-blue eyes and a badly tied tie.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Benny called out as he left, earning a loud laugh.

"Quite a long list left then!" Dean called back, and the guys around them laughed too.

Usually Dean wouldn't drink in the club, he'd go to a quieter place, maybe the Roadhouse, to avoid being mobbed by excited customers, but he wanted to see if he could get another look at the guy from earlier. He'd been attractive even in the dimmed lights, blue eyes big and bright, jaw dark with stubble, similarly dark hair sticking up in slight tufts like he'd ran his hand through it more than once, and he'd seemed to be quite enjoying the show if his wide-eyed, lip-parted expression was anything to go by.

So he slipped through one of the side doors back into the bar, greeted the bartender, Meg, with a smile and accepted the beer she passed to him gladly. As per Crowley's rules, the first two drinks of any of his workers were free and any after that were taken from their pay, so Dean leaned back against a vacant section of the bar and surveyed the crowd without worrying about spending his freshly earned cash.

He quickly spotted the guy from earlier at his table near the stage, sat with another guy who was objectively attractive (but not really Dean's type) and slightly older.

Seeing the man, Dean let himself acknowledge that he'd come for the drink purely to try and flirt around with his blue-eyed admirer, and he hesitated, wondering if maybe the two guys were in a relationship - hell, going to a strip club together wasn't exactly conventional, but Dean wasn't gonna judge about other guys' choices. He was internally floundering, and had finally decided to just finish his drink and head home when his guy stood up and headed off in the direction of the men's bathroom alone.

I'll just go and talk to him, ask if he's available, Dean told himself, draining the bottle in one quick swallow and dodging a couple of women who were eyeing him speculatively as he made a beeline for the toilets.

The guy had just entered the bathroom when Dean walked in, and he glanced over his shoulder as if sensing someone approaching. The man's eyes widened in surprise, and Dean smiled warmly, stepping maybe a little too close to the man in the otherwise empty room.

"Hey, I've don't think I've seen you around here before," Dean said in greeting. And, sure, it wasn't original, but he was nervous - faced with a stunning guy who may or may not be in a relationship wouldn't usually throw him off his game, but this particularly guy had a piercing gaze and cocked his head to the side a little as Dean spoke.

"No, I rarely visit...places like this," the man said, edges of his mouth twitching up into the hint of a smile while his eyes remained somewhat bewildered.

"I'm Dean."


And it said something that Dean didn't even bother mocking the guy's weird-ass name.

"You here with your...boyfriend?" Dean said, hesitant, and the man made a sound that was half between laughing and choking.

"No!" Castiel said after a moment, "No, he's my brother."

An odd place for brotherly bonding in Dean's opinion, he'd never go to a strip club with Sam (not after what happened the last time he did), but, hell, at least Castiel was single.

Dean tried not to smile too broadly, but he couldn't help it, "Single then?" he suggested.

Castiel flushed a little, eyes flitting about nervously, like he didn't know where to look, but he nodded, looking up at Dean from beneath his dark lashes, and suddenly Dean was really very much in the mood for something more than flirting. "I, uh, did enjoy your performance," Castiel said, his low voice going straight to Dean's cock, and Dean couldn't help but wonder what that voice sounded like during sex, if it ever got rough and wrecked and pleading-

"Thanks, I guess," Dean said, his own face heating slightly as he felt himself hardening in his jeans.

There was definite tension between them, and Dean caught the man darting a glance at his mouth in the pause that followed, before returning his heated gaze to Dean's, and like a dam breaking he stepped forward, bending his head minutely to line up their mouths, kissing hard and infinitely glad to feel the pressure quickly returned.

Castiel reached up, one hand skimming up Dean's side to grip his shoulder, the other stroking higher to curve around the back of his neck and press them closer together. Dean's hand gripped around the tie, using it like a leash to pull Castiel with him as he backed towards the door, pulling them both against it and fumbling quickly to twist the lock before returning his attention to the kiss.

His mouth tasted like beer, with the faintest remains of mint, and Dean couldn't resist teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of his lips. He was rewarded with a hushed sigh and Castiel's mouth opening beneath his, their tongues sliding together and lips pressing almost painfully hard. He felt Castiel suck on his tongue for a second and he couldn't repress the groan as his dick hardened further.

And then Castiel's mouth was gone and Dean took the opportunity to pull in a quick breath, before expelling it sharply as Castiel's hands dropped from his shoulders to his belt.

He dropped to his knees before Dean, pulling the leather belt through the loops, unbuttoning the jeans and pulling the fly down quickly, before pushing up Dean's shirt to mouth at his taut stomach. Dean braced back against the door, head falling back and eyes fluttering shut as Castiel's hand cupped him through his jeans, the teasing squeeze making him gasp a little, before that same hand reached boldly into his pants to grip his dick more firmly.

"I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you out on stage," Castiel rumbled, pulling Dean's cock free from his jeans and immediately sucking a bead of precum from the tip.

Dean clenched his jaw hard, hands fisting before he reached out blindly for something to ground him and finding themselves tangled in Castiel's dark hair. He forced his eyes to open and his head to bow forward, looking down as Castiel parted his lips and went down on his flushed dick, shallowly again, before pulling off with a lewd pop and swirling his tongue around the head.

"You're killing me, Cas," Dean groaned, and finally Castiel gave in with a wry smirk, eyes flicking up to meet Dean's as he lowered his mouth down onto him. He bobbed his head up and down, overwhelmingly blue eyes staring up at him, and the visual, auditory, and physical stimulus was almost too much. His head fell back against the door and he breathed out a breathy sigh as Castiel took more of him into his mouth, warm hands wrapping around where his mouth couldn't reach and pumping him firmly.

"God, Cas," Dean groaned, and Castiel hummed, pleased, around his dick, the sensation drawing another lewd gasp from Dean.

He was moving faster, urging Dean on as his panting breaths came quicker, hands tightening in Cas' hair in a way that the man clearly liked.

Castiel pulled off for a moment, licking his lips as though savouring the taste, he leaned down, licking a stripe up the bottom of Dean's cock, leaning down to tease at his balls for a moment before abruptly taking Dean back in his mouth, managing to take him from root to tip where he pressed uncomfortably against the back of Cas' throat, and as Castiel lifted off a little bit Dean came in hot spurts in his mouth, head tipped back and swallowing moan after moan, and Cas continued to swallow around his dick until he was finished. Finally pulling his mouth away and getting to his feet.

He tucked Dean carefully into his pants as he leaned helplessly against the door, and then leaned in to press a light kiss to the edge of Dean's mouth.

"That was..." Dean groaned, eyes blinking open and his vision quickly swallowed up by blue, he pressed forward, kissing Cas soundly, very aware of the hard erection pressing into his hip. "Did you want to go back to my place?" Dean suggested quickly, "My brother's over at his girlfriend's this weekend and-"

"Yes," Castiel agreed, eyes twinkling, and Dean noticed his totally dishevelled sex hair, sticking up all over the place, as well as his reddened, spit-slicked lips. He could think of nothing better than taking this man back to his bed and spending the rest of the night (and more nights to come, hopefully) finding every possible way to reciprocate.

They unlocked the bathroom and left, feeling very conspicuous as they hurried toward the exit. They glanced over to see Cas' brother with his lap full of sexy leggy blonde and Cas mumbled something about texting him later.

Out in the parking lot, seated in his car, Dean couldn't help but grin when his gaze met with Castiel's deep blue one. He was very much looking forward to the rest of the night - and everything else that might come after.