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Poker Face

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The lights are bursting and the guns are going off, but the creature doesn’t stop walking. Castiel, he had said. As Dean continues to shoot at this creature, he has to remind himself that this THING almost killed a good friend of Bobby’s.

Why are the lights exploding? Is this the creature’s doing? What has the power to make hanging light fixtures explode without the wave of a hand? A demon? A spirit? This is obviously neither because both he and Bobby are shooting it full of rock salt and that isn’t even slowing it down.

‘Whatever it is, it certainly has bad fashion taste,’ Dean thinks to himself. The thing is wearing a trench coat for fucking fuck’s sake! He can’t really see its face, but he can see that it’s hair is messed up, like he just finished a couple rounds of extremely rough sex. ‘And that’s hot af,’ Dean hears a little voice in the back of his head say. This is the same voice that whispers extremely gay things to him when he’s watching Dr. Sexy, MD. ‘NOT RIGHT NOW!’ Dean thinks.

The creature comes up to them, stopping when he gets to be just a few feet away. Dean grabs the demon knife, the knife that kills demons. “Who are you?” Dean asks the thing.

“I’m the one who gripped you tight and saved you from perdition,” the thing says. ‘I’ll let you grip something else with that damn voice,’ the voice in Dean’s head says.

Instead of repeating the disturbingly arousing thoughts going through his head, Dean just says, “Thanks for that.” The thing seems to nod ‘you’re welcome’ to him. And Dean can’t help but think for a split second that DAMN THAT’S HONESTLY ADORABLE before he remembers that he’s not here to exchange phone numbers, he’s here to kill this thing that burned out an innocent woman’s eyes. And with that, Dean takes the demon knife and plunges it into the creature.

Dean realizes with horror that, oh great, the creature isn’t even slightly fazed about being impaled with a knife that kills demons. In fact, he just pulls it out and lets it fall to the floor. AND THAT’S OFFICIALLY THE HOTTEST THING DEAN HAS EVER SEEN.

Dean wakes from his dream with a start and morning wood. Awesome. Not dream, memory, says the voice. Dean groans and starts getting up, planning on taking a nice, long shower to help take care of his little problem.

Dean finds the showers currently occupied with an adorable and currently very naked ex-angel who, for some reason, forgot to shut the door or something and Dean certainly got an eyeful. Which doesn’t help his little problem at all. Or it does. Depends on how you look at it.

So Dean, after a few awkward apologies and some embarrassed blushing, retreats into his room to deal with the issue. After a few moments of panting, grunting, and finally collapsing into his own mess in the bed, there’s a knock at Dean’s door. What now, Dean thinks as he quickly makes himself presentable.

Dean opens the door to a very embarrassed and adorable (even though he would never admit it) ex-angel. “The, uh, shower’s free.” Cas stares down at his feet. Adorable fucker.

“Thanks,” Dean mumbles, shuffling around him to the bathroom. Dean is finally able to breathe correctly when he shuts the bathroom behind him. Ok, he really needs to stop this, whatever it is. He knows what Sammy would call it. He remembers Sam calling Cas his “very own little gay crush.”

Well, now dean knows that Cas is anything but little.

A while later, Dean and Sammy are sitting in the living room, talking about something or other that Dean really can’t remember because suddenly the man who he totally wasn’t having x-rated fantasies about during this morning’s jerk-off session walks in wearing his dress pants, his trench coat, and nothing else.

So of course the big moose asks him if he wants to play poker with them. That’s what they were doing, playing poker. Dean remembers now. Cas asks him something, but Dean can’t really focus on anything but Cas’ bare chest. “Um, sure,” he says. Cas just stares at him. Dean doesn’t know why until he remembers that Cas had just asked him to move over on the couch.

So now Cas is half naked and sitting next to him on the couch and Dean really cannot think.

After a moment, Cas leans over into Dean’s personal space and shows him his cards. “I have never played poker before, Dean. What do I do?” I know who you can do, Dean thinks before catching himself.

“Um, so, you have three pokers here. So you need to play these pokers, but not this poker.” Dean points to the cards, his chest touching Cas’ back while Cas nodded along in the most adorable way, and Dean knows he is done for. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

After a few rounds, poker happens and Cas throws his cards down onto the table, yelling, “POKER!” and he did indeed have three pokers and won all the poker. Dean and Sammy both moan and sit back helplessly as Cas takes all the poker money from them.

“Alright,” The big moose says, “I’m off to bed. Ya know, before Cas takes all our poker money.”

Dean panics. “No, you can’t! the party hasn’t even started yet! The night is still young!!!” Dean really doesn’t want to be alone with Cas.

The big moose just laughs. “You can party with Cas. You two can play,” Sam snorts out a laugh, “go fist fish.” Dean hates Sam.

So now Dean is alone with the shirtless ex-angel and can really feel the pressure to play this right. The pressure seems to be especially felt in his dick area.

So Dean and Cas play another few rounds of poker because even though Dean wants to call it and just go to bed where he can be alone with his thoughts (if you know what I mean), Cas really wants to play some more and with one look at Dean with those big, puppy eyes, Dean’s a goner.

After Cas has taken pretty much all of Dean’s money, Dean says, “Ok, that’s enough. I can’t poker anymore.”

Cas whines, “But Dean, I’m having so much fun…”

Dean pats his pockets. “I don’t have anything left to gamble with. And I don’t want you becoming an addict.” Dean points at Cas warningly. Cas pouts.

A smile crosses Cas’ face. “I have something you can gamble…” uh oh. If Cas keeps talking like that, Dean’s going to have a BIG problem. “How about if I win, you have to be my slave for a day.” Cas smiles at Dean like he hasn’t just given the guy a boner.

“And if I win?”

“I’ll be your slave.” Great, now Dean has a problem. A hard problem.

“I’m in,” Dean finds himself saying. After all, it’s not like innocent Cas means it like that. Does he?

Cas lights up. “Great!”

Of course Cas wins. As he has his little victory dance, Dean wonders how he got so good at poker.

While he tries to not stare at Cas’ ass.

“So, first thing you’ll need to do as my slave is my laundry.” Of course, what was Dean expecting, that Cas would just bend him over and fuck his ass?

Hoped, not expected.

Whatever. Dean follows Cas into his room where Cas takes his laundry basket and hands it to him, filled to the brim with shirts, pants, and underwear. Awesome.

That touched his dick, says the voice. Stop!

So Dean goes to wash Cas’ clothes. He finds Sam in the laundry room. “Sammy, what are you doing here?”

“The important question is what are you doing here with Cas’ clothes?”

“I lost at poker so now I’m his slave for the day.”

The moose laughs. “Who knew he was that kinky…”

“Shut your face.” Dean throws all the clothes into the wash in one load, save a pair of underpants. Those were just for research. “The real question is who knew he was so good at poker.” Dean turns on the machine.

Sam looks surprised. “I did. We play all the time.” What?

“He told me this was his first time playing!” The little fucker.

“He played you…” a certain annoying moose said. Dean stormed out of the wash room. A certain adorable fucker was going to get it now….

When Dean bursts through Cas’ door, he finds a very naked liar laying seductively in his bed, and little Cas is definitely at the ready. And not little in any way.

Dean is so shocked that for a moment, he forgets how to English. “I believe you are still my slave for today and I really need someone to suck my dick.” HOLY SHIT CAS JUST SWORE THAT’S SO FUCKING SEXY I CANT and Dean’s upstairs brain stops working for a second.

So Dean just stares at not-so-little Cas for a minute.

“See something you like?”

Dean coughs. “You lied to me. You have played poker many times before.”

“It’s called a bluff. And that doesn’t change the fact that you REALLY suck at poker. So, SUCK. MY. DICK.”

And Dean stops thinking.

He gets down on his knees in front of Cas and grabs Cas’ thighs. Dean takes Cas’ head into his mouth and sucks. Hard. While Cas whines, Dean laps at his slit and teases his head. Then he sucks more of Cas’ overly sensitive cock into his mouth and Cas lets out a deep moan. Dean scrapes his teeth lightly along Cas’ sensitive vein and lets out a chuckle at the choked noise that Cas makes. He is really enjoying this way too much.

He palms his hard dick through his jeans with one hand and uses his other one to play with Cas’ balls. Cas has one hand on the bed and the other in Dean’s hair to direct his head. When Dean makes any noise, Cas moans harder and starts thrusting into Dean’s mouth. It’s a good thing Dean has no gag reflex.

“I- Dean, I’m gonna…” Cas comes with a shout and Dean swallows him down, practically humping the bed at this point. Cas tastes like honey and sweet nectar no wonder the bees like him.

Cas brings Dean up to him and kissed him roughly, tasting himself on Dean’s lips. When he finally breaks away for air, Cas mumbles something about that being satisfactory and lays down on the bed.

Dean whines. “What about me?”

Cas sits up like he forgot something. “Oh, yeah.” He opens the bedside drawer and pulls something out, but he won’t let Dean see what it is. “Take off all your clothes and lay down on the bed.” Dean does and Cas puts a cock ring on him. A DAMN COCK RING! Dean Winchester don’t wear no cock ring. “Don’t worry,” Cas laughs at Dean’s concerned face. “It’s just so you don’t come until I say you can.” Dean can live with that.

And Dean spends the next half hour getting the best damn blow job he’s ever had in his life!

Just when Dean thinks that even the cock ring can’t stop him from coming, Cas stops. “Cas,” Dean whines. “Please don’t stop.”

“I understand that you were about to orgasm, Dean, but I really need you to go and put my clothes in the dryer.” What? “Put on your pants, Dean Winchester.”

Dean whines and Cas picks him up off the bed. DAMN he’s strong. “I said, put on your fucking pants!” Castiel growls into Dean’s ear as he shoves him onto the floor. Well fuck. Dean just puts on his jeans because he can’t find his underpants and is honestly a little scared of what Cas will do to him. This is really not fair, his jeans keep rubbing against his extremely painful erection and Dean’s having trouble walking, but he makes it to and from the washroom without any incidents.

He finds Cas sitting on the bed as naked as the day he was born. After another hour of painfully arousing blowjobs, Dean puts his pants back on and goes to get Cas’ clothes from the dryer. He cannot take another minute of this. Dean runs back to Cas’ room.

Cas is currently stroking his dick as slow as humanly possible and Dean is going to come at the sight. “Fuck.”

Cas moans or chuckles, Dean can’t really tell. “In a minute, baby.” Cas stands up, completely unfazed that his dick is up and ready to go. “Now we have to fold the laundry.”

“No, please! I’ve walked up and down stairs with those damn jeans rubbing on my overly sensitive dick while doing your damn laundry for the last two hours, Cas! Please let me cum….”

“No, Dean.” So they spend the next ten minutes folding and putting away the laundry while Dean shifts uncomfortably in his way-too-tight jeans and his dick slowly leaks precome.

After the longest ten minutes of his life, Dean sighs deeply. Maybe now he’ll get to come.

Cas tackles Dean and literally rips his pants off. Oh well, Dean really didn’t like those jeans, anyway. Too tight.

Cas takes Dean and his hard dicks in one hand and starts rutting into it, using his other hand to work off the cock ring. After only a handful (Ha ha I know I’m so funny) of thrusts, Dean comes all over both him and Cas which seems to get Cas off enough considering how he comes all over Dean after a second.

Dean must’ve passed out because the next thing he knows, he wakes up with a warm body in his arms and a soft bed pressed against his back. The alarm clock says that it’s technically morning wood he’s sporting, and today, instead of getting himself off, Dean has a very willing ex-angel to do the dirty for him.

~END~