To Dean's relief, Cas finally quit trying to convince him of how fantabulous he was. Dean had always been uncomfortable with praise, but the open adoration Cas was directing his way was more than he could deal with right now – he was just barely wrapping his head around the whole “Cas loves me” thing.
Eventually, Dean must have dozed off because next thing he knew, someone was pounding on the door. He scrubbed his thumb and fingers over his eyes, trying to shake off the disorientation as he sat up and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. When he blinked his eyes open again, Cas was already at the door. Totally naked.
Dean quickly yanked the sheet over to cover his lap. “Cas, no!” he hissed.
But the door was open, and Cas addressed the person waiting outside. “Yes?”
There was a momentary pause before their visitor said, “There've been a buncha calls to the office about noise from this room. Have fun and all, sugar, but keep it down, wouldja? I don't wanna have to throw you boys out.” The voice was female, older, and definitely roughened by many years of whiskey and/or cigarettes.
“My apologies for the disturbance. I will make certain the room is soundproofed hereafter,” Cas assured her.
Another pause. “Whatever you say, honey, just quit ticking off the other guests. And for Pete's sake, put that thing away.”
Dean heard her footsteps as she shuffled away.
Cas closed the door and turned to Dean looking puzzled. “Who is Pete?”
“Cas! What the hell, man? You don't answer the door with your junk out!” Dean waved vaguely at Cas's nether regions.
Dean threw his hands up in exasperation. “Because you just don't, that's why not!”
With the facial equivalent of a shrug, Cas moved back toward the bed.
“Hey, whoa, watch where you step – there's glass from the broken lights,” Dean cautioned.
But Cas told him, “No, I removed the glass. The bulbs will need to be replaced by the management, however.” He slipped back into bed. “Besides, it wouldn't have harmed me.”
“Hm. Fair point,” Dean acknowledged.
He rearranged the covers he'd yanked out of place, floofing them back out flat. He fell back onto the mattress, but before could even think about getting comfortable, he was being rolled onto his side, facing away from the angel.
“Cas? What're you doing?”
“Finding a suitable position,” Cas answered, slipping an arm around Dean's middle and pulling him tightly against the full length of his warm, firm body.
Dean's mouth went dry. “Uh. For what?”
“This gives me maximum contact with your body while still leaving my hand free to touch you.” Cas's lips were so close to the back of Dean's neck, he could actually feel the words vibrate against his skin.
Dean shifted, trying to turn in Cas's hold. “It's called spooning.”
“Interesting that humans consider this arrangement of bodies significant enough to give it a name.” Cas nudged Dean's shoulder back around to where it had been.
“I don't know if that counts as giving it a name, really, since it's just describing the shape of it. It's like two spoons stacked together in a drawer.” He shifted again, scooting around in increments so he could face Cas. “Look, if you wanna spoon, that's cool. But I get to be the big spoon.”
Cas scrunched up the bridge of his nose. “I don't understand what that means.”
“It means turn over, Cas.” Dean gave him a push, encouraging him to roll to his other side. “Big spoon holds the little spoon.”
Reluctantly, Cas complied, allowing Dean to cozy up behind him, but only for about a minute. He pulled away and turned back over to face Dean.
“You will be the little spoon,” Cas told him.
“No way, I called big spoon. You be the little spoon.”
Cas's eyes narrowed. Before Dean realized what was happening, he found himself back on his other side with Cas snugged up behind him. Crap. He hadn't taken into account Cas's obstinance and, more importantly, his significant strength advantage.
“Cas! Dammit, I'm not the little spoon!” he complained, struggling to turn over again, but he was pinned by Cas's arm.
“By your own rules, I had already chosen big spoon before you 'called it'. While being little spoon does allow for a great deal of body contact, it doesn't provide enough opportunity for me to touch you. So I'm big spoon.”
Dean put up some token resistance, but eventually acknowledged defeat with a huff. “Fine. But nobody else ever needs to know I was little spoon.”
Cas settled in behind him. Soon his nose and lips were nuzzling at the back of Dean's neck, spawning goosebumps. His free hand explored the expanse of Dean's chest and belly and drifted over his hip and thigh in soothing strokes. Dean closed his eyes, gradually relaxing into the soft touches. He hated to admit it, but being little spoon actually felt really fucking good. God help him if Sam ever found out he thought so, though. He'd never hear the end of it.
“And just for the record, if the person who's the big spoon is smaller than the person who's little spoon, then it's not spoons,” he murmured. “You're a jet pack.”
“My true form is much larger than you. I'm the big spoon.”
Dean didn't answer. Cas was a stubborn son of a bitch, so there was no point in arguing. And if letting him call himself the big spoon meant he'd keep cuddling Dean, then all the better. Not that this was cuddling. It just felt nice to be held was all.
Across the room, Dean's phone buzzed on the table where he'd left it. Cas's hand stopped roving.
He asked, “Should you answer that?”
“No. Fuck it, I don't wanna get up.
Eventually the phone stopped buzzing, but about thirty seconds later, it began vibrating across the tabletop again.
“Dammit,” Dean grumbled. “Stupid freaking phone.” He rolled out of Cas's arms, crossed to the table, and checked the device's display. “Stupid freaking Sam.” Of course. Just because the moose was pissed off, he had to go and be an asshole, interrupting when he knew Dean was in the middle of stuff. He scowled and powered down the phone.
Dean dropped it back onto the table and went back to his side of the bed.
Huh. His side.
He had a side of the bed.
A little smile he couldn't restrain broke out on his face as Dean crawled back under the covers and let Cas manhandle him back into being the little spoon. Cas resumed fondling everything he could reach. Well... almost everything.
If it were anyone else, Dean would think the angel's slow, teasing exploration of his body was intended to torture him. The curious hand caressed him, bringing heat to the surface everywhere it graced his skin. Every reverent touch aroused him physically, of course, but emotionally as well, which was confusing as hell and possibly a little terrifying.
The things he'd been feeling over the last twenty-four hours were... overwhelming. He just wasn't used to this. Being cared for. Being loved unconditionally. Hell, trusting people with his life was difficult enough and happened only rarely – trusting someone with his heart was inconceivable. At least, before now.
Now, with Cas, it might actually be okay.
But Dean stopped worrying about any of that as Cas's touches grew steadily more sensual. His hand felt so good caressing Dean's skin, making long strokes over his shoulder and hip, chest and belly, and if only he would move just a little bit lower. If Dean had any telekinetic abilities at all, he'd have discovered them for sure with how desperately he was willing Cas's hand to grab his cock. And even though Dean could feel Cas's erection press tantalizingly against his ass, Cas just continued with the same torturous touches and gentle sucks and kisses on his shoulder and the back of his neck.
His need grew until he was whimpering with each panting breath. Each time Cas's hand wandered close, Dean's hips twitched, and his dripping dick jumped, straining for the touch that never came.
Then Cas's hips began a subtle rocking, each tiny thrust nudging his cock, the tip of it slick with pre-come, along the cleft of Dean's ass.
The raspy groan in his ear sent a shiver down Dean's spine. “Cas...” he gasped.
“I like this. Feeling you against me, so aroused and needy. It's very stimulating.”
“Fuck, yeah, it is,” Dean groaned.
Suddenly, Cas was moving, rolling Dean onto his stomach and moving him to the center of the narrow mattress – literally lifting him and shifting him over. Dean's eyes involuntarily screwed themselves shut at the unexpected rush of heat that caused. Cas was so much stronger than him, yet so gentle, and it aroused something in Dean, something that he wasn't sure he understood, but it was shockingly intense.
Cas grasped his wrists and tucked his hands under the pillow beneath his cheek before sliding his palms down Dean's arms to his shoulders and along the muscles in his back. Dean arched into his touch when his hand traveled down to cup his butt cheek and give a squeeze.
“What're you doing?” Dean asked breathlessly. His cock was pressed between his belly and the bed, and he wasn't sure if that was better than before or not. At least there was pressure, if not much friction.
Draping his body half over Dean's, Cas bit down on his ear. “Trying stuff,” he growled, “as you requested.”
Cas kneaded Dean's ass for a moment longer, then continued with the roaming hand. It felt incredibly good. And weirdly enough for Dean, being on his stomach and having his hands pinned under the pillow was making him so goddamn hot. Sure, he'd let girls tie him up a few times in the past, which was fun enough, but it never made his blood run hot. Not like this. He wondered briefly how it would be if he asked Cas to tie him to the bed, and the mere thought sent hot pinpricks of pleasure rippling over his skin.
Cas trailed his hand up the length of Dean's spine and scraped his nails lightly over his scalp before threading his fingers into his short hair and gripping tight. Dean gasped and tipped his head back, following the pull of Cas's fingers. The angel leaned over him, his breath warm on Dean's cheek. If he looked to the side as far as his eyes would go, Dean could just see Cas's face, lit with an expression of interest and realization, and his breath came a little quicker.
“You like that,” Cas murmured.
Dean squeezed his eyes closed, panting out, “Yes.” Oh, fuck yes, he did.
Cas grunted thoughtfully.
The grip he had on Dean's hair eased, and Dean dropped his head to the pillow. The hand slid lower, and Cas gripped the back of Dean's neck and pushed down just enough to make Dean's breath hiccup before he released the pressure.
Dean blinked open the eye that wasn't squashed into the pillow. That blazing blue gaze burned back at him. “Cas,” Dean whimpered. He didn't even know what he was asking for. He just needed something.
Cas had been lying half on Dean, but now he moved to straddle Dean's ass. He leaned forward, slipping his hands under the pillow to grip Dean's forearms, his weight holding him down. A choking moan rolled out of Dean. He strained against Cas's hold on him, and the bucking of his body set Cas's cock rubbing between the cheeks of his ass.
With a long groan of his own at the friction on his shaft, Cas observed, “You like it, being restrained. You respond favorably to being dominated sexually. Don't you, Dean?”
“Yes.” Dean's face heated – his cheeks tingled he was blushing so hard. “By you, just you.” He needed Cas to know that this – whatever this was – was something new. Something unique to Cas.
“Why, Dean?” Cas rasped. “Why just me?
The angel rocked his hips, skimming his dick in long strokes against Dean's ass. His thrusts grew shorter and faster, along with his breathing. With the limited movement he was allowed, Dean desperately pushed back against Cas, but at the same time, tried to grind his own cock against the sheets. Anything that would get him closer to release.
“Because I trust you,” Dean answered more honestly than he probably would have if he weren't half out of his mind with lust. “I know you'll take care of me.”
The sweat that had built up between their bodies let Cas's cock glide more freely against Dean's skin, and Cas pumped his hips frantically as he neared his edge. “Dean!” he cried out as his thrusts stuttered erratically. “Oh, Dean! Ah!”
Dean felt the warm flood of Cas's release spilling over him. Hot pulses of fluid pooled at the base of his spine and got smeared along the crack of his ass with Cas's shuddering finish. Dean buried his forehead in the pillow and muffled his cry of pleasure. Some part of his mind wondered what the fuck was wrong with him, getting off on his angel holding him down and coming all over him. But he did. He loved it, and he wanted more.
“Dean,” Cas moaned, the scrape of stubble on Dean's spine sending shivers the length of his body. He still rocked his softening cock against Dean's ass, slowly and dreamily, whispering words of Enochian into his skin. The pool of come squelched between them, spilling out and onto the sheets. Cas released one of Dean's arms and ran his fingers through the trails of semen, painting Dean's hip.
Still achingly hard and desperate for friction on his cock, Dean whimpered and squirmed beneath Cas, trying and failing to rub himself against the mattress.
Castiel began dropping light kisses over Dean's back in between his Enochian praises. He slid one knee up between Dean's thighs, then brought the other knee in to push Dean's legs apart. Dean gasped, his back arching and his balls drawing up tight. Cas grabbed him by the hips and pulled up to his elbows and knees, ass in the air.
“Cas?” Dean was shivering uncontrollably and sucking air through his slack lips. He wasn't sure where this was going, and though he trusted Cas, he didn't know if he was ready for... everything.
Cas's hand slid up to the back of Dean's neck, pushing his face down to the mattress. There was enough cooling jizz still pooled at the small of his back to send a trickle of it down along his spine. Cas ran a thumb along the trail, and Dean heard him suck it into his mouth.
“Are you all right, Dean?” the angel's voice was rough, but calming on Dean's nerves.
“Yeah,” he answered a little unsteadily. “I think so?”
Cas stroked his hands over Dean's body, down the muscles of his back, along his ribs, over his hips. “Would you like me to touch you now?”
“God, yes, Cas! Please?”
With a swipe of his palm, Cas gathered up the remaining come on Dean's back to use as lube. When his hand closed over his shaft at last, Dean shuddered and whined wordlessly. Cas coated the length of him and slowly began pumping his cock. His technique was far from perfect, but Dean was so desperate to get off, he couldn't care less.
“Dean,” Cas whispered. “You're so beautiful like this. I could keep you at the edge of orgasm for hours just to see the flush on your skin and the desire in your eyes.”
More pathetic begging noises rolled out of Dean. He strained to drive his hips forward, to fuck himself into Cas's fist, but the angle was awkward. He was left to Cas's whim.
“I want you to tell me something, Dean. Tell me all the things you imagine me doing to you.”
“I-- I--” Dean swallowed hard, trying to wet his throat, dry and raspy from his gasping breaths. “Oh god, Cas. I want-- I want you to fuck me stupid. Finger me open and fuck me so hard I forget my own name. On my hands and knees, or bent over the table, on my back with my knees around my ears, whatever. Make me suck you off, jack me with your wings again, or let me ride you like a fucking roller coaster, I don't care, just please, please, I need you, Castiel.”
The hand that'd been holding Dean's hip moved, and Dean felt one finger pressed gently over his hole, the slight touch driving him plummeting over the edge. “Oh, shit. Cas!” Dean cried out as his body seized up. White light burst behind his eyes, and tingling shudders wracked his body. Hot ribbons of come spilled over the bed and Cas's hand. When it was done, Dean fell limp with a sob, gasping out Cas's name over and over and over again.
The next thing he knew, Castiel had laid him out on the bed – both he and the bed miraculously free of stickiness or wet spots – and pulled him into an embrace. A very girly one, if Dean cared enough to think about it. Which he didn't. His head was tucked in the cradle of Cas's neck and shoulder, his arm draped across his chest. Cas's arm was wrapped tightly around his shoulders, and the fingers of his other hand stroked Dean's hair, his face, his shoulder. Anything he could reach.
Cas brushed the sweaty hair back and kissed Dean gently on the forehead. As his breathing and heart rate slowly returned to normal, Dean burrowed himself more deeply into the angel's warm embrace as he felt the heaviness of sleep overtaking him.
“I love you, Dean.”