Archive of Our Own

Dean is on the verge.  

Multiple days have passed, but they have to wait until Sam and Eileen leave again before they can do what they want. As much as sneaking around is very thrilling for Dean, it’s not ideal. He wants to be able to let go as much as possible and be as unashamedly pleasured as he wishes to be with Cas (partly because Cas makes it so difficult to not) but that simply is not possible when the other couple is home.  

Dean’s on the verge of considering figuring out how to fake a monstrous-appearing disaster a few states away simply so that Sam and Eileen will leave. He and Cas can’t take this anymore.  

After what they did a few days ago, both of them obviously feel amped up to 100 with the urge to do it again, but now they can’t until they have the bunker to themselves again. The baby-blue pair of panties in the top drawer of their dresser calls to him like a siren, but they can’t do anything about it yet.  

Dean can see the hunger in Cas’s eyes when the ex-angel looks at him. It’s not uncommon over the past few days that they’ve wound up locked in their room trying to be as quiet as possible; up against the door, in bed, an incredibly sneaky trip to the shower that probably shouldn’t have happened simply because of how risky it was, and in bed again. 

Each time, Dean knows what Cas is thinking about, and knows that it’s the very same thing that he’s thinking about. He knows that both of them can’t get the fantasies out of their heads of Cas taking care of him while he wears another pair of dainty panties. 

The baby-blue panties in the drawer that once made him so upset a few weeks ago now sit like a present on Christmas morning—not allowed to be opened up until the time is right, and otherwise sitting and taunting from its place beneath the tree until it’s time.  

Which leads them to today.  

It’s early-afternoon, not too long after lunch but enough time that they’ve already spent the entire morning practically eye-fucking every time they look at each other. They even started their day with some early-morning handjobs to try and rid some of the pent-up tension as they wait in hopes that Sam and Eileen will leave, but it inevitably is going to be another quiet day of sneaking around.  

Cas’s hand is currently wrapped around Dean’s cock for the second time today, the ex-angel having a thigh between the hunter's own on top of him with his free arm on the pillow beside Dean's head for support.  

Dean’s back arches off of the mattress to press the front of his torso up into the ex-angel's above his own, an arm wrapped around the man’s body with his other hand in the man’s hair.  

They both are (unfortunately) fully clothed, and notably  not  in the particular article clothing that both of them want. As tempting as it is, they know that it’ll be more worth it to save the panties—considering that the green pair got a little roughed up the other day—for a time when they can truly indulge in it, rather than waste them on a time that they can’t even fully let go enough to thoroughly enjoy it. 

It’s just so damn tempting.   

“I want ‘em,” Dean complains quietly, peering up into blue eyes as he thrusts into Cas’s grip.  

The ex-angel has a broken sort of crease to his eyebrows in desperate pleasure, giving a small shake of his head while holding eye contact as he whispers a forlorn, “I know,” in agreement. Dean doesn’t have to clarify; they both know what he was referring to.  

“Want you to put ‘em on me,” the hunter whispers with an equally desperate expression, drawing a quiet groan from the man above him. Cas’s pupils seem to blow further with lust, eyes darkened a shade of hungry at the words.  

“Let you have me,” Dean whispers breathlessly, body rolling into Cas’s too-slow strokes.  

Cas groans out a quiet, “Dean,” as he drops his forehead down to the pillow beside Dean’s head, grinding against the hunter’s hipbone as he strokes him slowly and breathes harsh and hot into the man’s ear. They want to prolong this, because they both know that they’re probably going to wind up horny all over again soon afterward. That’s how the past few days have seemed to go, at least.  

This has somehow been even  worse  than those two weeks (after Cas had initially found the panties in the drawer) before Dean finally got the courage to put on the undergarments for Cas. The constant horniness over  those  two weeks were bad, but that was before they even fully  knew  what to expect.  

Now, they do, and it’s killing them. Dean wants Cas and he wants him all the time, and it’s clear that Cas feels the same exact way.  

“Want you to—mm,” Dean starts before arching up into Cas’s torso with a soft moan in reaction to a particularly strong wave of arousal, “Want you to take care’a me,”. 

Cas knows what Dean’s doing. While the hunter is being genuine and truly telling what he wants, Cas knows that he’s certainly milking the teasing aspect of it as well. As much as Cas is currently teasing him with the slow strokes of his hand, Dean is teasing him with the currently-unobtainable fantasies described through his words.  

Cas suckles on the skin right below Dean’s earlobe with a groan low in his throat, feeling Dean’s chest pressing up against his own. The hunter’s voice is deep and familiar and whispered and hoarse with arousal but it’s needy all at the same time in a way that drives Cas wild.   

Dean takes a moment to breathe heavily, hand gently gripping Cas’s dark hair as his other holds tightly on Cas’s back overtop t-shirt fabric. He’s certain that they’re both probably sweating through their shirts by now.  

He swallows dryly and licks his lips before starting again, “Want you to take control’a me,” with a whispered voice coated in desperation. 

Cas just quietly groans his name again in response, grip around him tightening and hips rolling. His breath is hot and lips brushing against Dean’s ear, making the hunter squirm beneath him at the shiver it sparks down his spine.  

“Tell me what to do,” the hunter adds, painting a delicious picture of his mental fantasies for Cas. “Make me listen t’you,” he mumbles quietly with a small whine in the back of his throat punctuating the sentence, having built up throughout his words in clear pleasure at the mere thought of the idea. 

Cas suckles at the skin above his jugular, rutting against his hip and channeling his arousal into the suckling of skin instead of being able to very audibly show it.  

Dean’s hand in his hair tightens a bit as the hunter whines quietly before breathlessly whispering, “...Make me come in my panties again,”. 

The groan that Cas sounds low in his throat with his lips still latched onto the hunter’s neck is a bit louder than he intends for it to be, stroking a bit faster around Dean’s cock with the mental image of the man being debauched and desperate for Cas in his pair of dainty blue panties and practically begging Cas to let him— 

A rap of knocking knuckles outside of their door suddenly startles both of them out of their little world they'd fallen into, gasping quietly as they scramble off of one another to try and look presentable.  

“Hey guys?” Sam asks from outside, not opening the door until given the all-clear.  

While swiftly attempting to tuck his boner into his pants as well-concealed as he can manage, Dean’s voice cracks embarrassingly halfway through the short sentence as he calls out, “One second!” in an attempt to make his voice sound like its usual shade of gruff instead of like it did when he'd just been whispering delicate fantasies in Cas’s ear.  

He stumbles to the door quickly as Cas sits on the edge of the bed facing away from the door, likely also sporting a tent that he doesn’t have time to hide before Dean is swinging the door open with a slightly more agitated than intended, “What?”. He can’t help the frustration from bleeding into his tone.  

Sam’s face falls immediately into amusement, raising an eyebrow as he huffs a laugh at his brother before quietly commenting, “Wow,” under his breath as though making fun of the state of him.  

Dean’s sure that he probably looks a mess, knowing that he’s probably red in the face and disheveled but that there’s nothing that he can currently do about it. 

“The hell do you want?” Dean asks impatiently, not trying to rush Sam away from their room rudely, but also very much trying to do that. They were kind of right in the middle of something.  

Sam rolls his eyes a little amusedly before commenting with a wholly teasing-younger-brother tone and a cringe in his expression, “Well, I’m sure you two’ll be pleased to hear that I was coming to say that me ‘n Eileen are about to head out. Case in Garden City about 3 hours out,”.  

Dean swallows near-cartoonishly, voice carefully gruff as he answers, “Okay?” as though annoyed that Sam bothered to inform him. Truly, he’s overjoyed at the information, but isn’t about to be obvious about that in front of his brother (especially considering that they’ve already basically just been caught red-handed).  

“Okay,” Sam answers with a blown-out sigh in amused exasperation before awkwardly laughing with a finishing, “Bye,” and widening his eyes in discomfort as he walks away.  

Dean hardly gets the word “bye” out in return before he’s already quickly shutting the door back behind himself, turning to see Cas already looking at him from where the ex-angel is now stood by the bed with his arms crossed and a very obvious tent in his pajama pants that makes Dean really hope that Cas wasn’t standing like that while Sam was at the door.  

“They gotta go to Garden City. S’like 3 hours from here,” Dean informs, skin prickling with horny anticipation as Cas slowly walks over to him with a smug look in his eyes. He feels like prey getting stalked towards, and God he wants Cas on him and wants Cas on him now.   

“So I heard,” the ex-angel confirms, coming to hold his hands on the dips of Dean’s waist.  

Their lips are on one another’s in a heartbeat, quietly moaning into one another’s mouths. They still aren't being as loud as they want yet, considering that Sam and Eileen are about to leave but probably won’t be gone for another few minutes.  

Cas’s lips are eager, and Dean can practically taste the ex-angel's barely-restrained need in a way that makes his own boner kick a little embarrassingly inside of his boxers and pajama pants.  

A few more long, aching minutes pass of heatedly making out before Dean has to tell himself that Sam and Eileen must be gone by now, because he truly can’t take this any longer. His veins feel alight with need.  

Clearly in the same boat, Cas strings kisses across Dean's cheek to his ear, lips plush and breath warm against cartilage as he slides his hands down to grip shamelessly at the hunter’s backside with a sultry whisper of, “Are you going to let me put them on you?”. 

Dean moans softly at the words, nodding in response as he lets his crotch grind against Cas’s.  

The ex-angel kneads the meat of his glutes for a few seconds longer, nibbling at the hunter’s ear in a way that sends a shiver down his spine before pulling back to look at him with their faces mere inches apart. 

As eager and pent-up as they both are for this, there is still a gentleness in Cas’s eyes that makes Dean’s heart warm with immeasurable love that has little place to go other than the connection of their bodies.  

As much as they both want this, Cas knows that Dean is still a little nervous, can see it in his eyes. One time of them doing this isn’t going to suddenly rid all of the complexes that he has about the undergarments—though it certainly did help—and Cas knows this. He knows that Dean still needs help letting himself enjoy it.  

Cas can see that Dean needs this, but that he might  also  need a bit more of a push or extra guidance to be able to fully let himself be immersed without shame.  

The ex-angel thinks of Dean’s prior words, “Tell me what to do,” and "Make me listen t’you,” and knows that the comments were a bit more than some simple pillow-talk or fantasy sharing. He knows that they were requests; requests for Cas to take over.  

Truly, though, that is something that Cas needs just as much as Dean does. Just like they’d discussed in their conversation in bed a few weeks ago (after the whole panty-fiasco of Cas accidentally finding out and Dean getting upset), it helps Cas to take charge and be in control just as much as it helps Dean to be controlled.  

He thinks of the way that Dean had keened when he was clearly the one with less power in the situation; when he’d been so clearly worked up while Cas was managing to stay mostly composed, when he was given instructions to stay in a specific position, and when he was pinned helplessly beneath the ex-angel.  

Cas also, along that train of thought, thinks of the way that Dean had tried so hard to be obedient for him. He thinks of the way that he’d told Dean, “Stay like this,” after putting him in a more-presented position, and the way that Dean had dutifully held that position until he literally couldn’t.   

Being able to let Cas take control and set the scene for them allowed Dean to let himself go and give himself over to the pleasure, and Cas will make it his sworn duty (with extremely little complaint) to make sure that Dean gets to experience that again.  

Letting Cas take control means that Dean gets to be smaller, more fragile, soft, and taken care of.  

Girly, the ex-angel thinks.  

Dean thrives off of being able to turn his brain off and let Cas guide him, and Cas by all means will indulge in that.  

He sees the want swimming in the hunter’s green eyes as he kneads the meat of Dean’s rear end in his palms, feeling Dean grinding up against him as if he quite literally can’t help himself amidst his growing impatience for them to begin. 

Waiting for instruction, Cas thinks. 

He raises his eyebrows in question and Dean immediately returns an eager nod, though Cas truly hadn’t expected any other response. Despite the hunter's slight trepidation, Cas can tell that he wants this.  

He leans in to press a lingering, gentle kiss to the hunter’s lips as though to commence what they’ve both been waiting so desperately for, then allows himself a few additional more-heated kisses before reluctantly pulling away.  

With his face inches from Dean’s own, Cas deliberately holds Dean’s gaze and gives a punctuating squeeze of his palms as he softly instructs, “Go get them out of the drawer,”.  

Dean takes a moment to process the sentence, though the shaky sigh and blown-out pupils a few short seconds afterward make it delightfully obvious to Cas that the hunter has processed the words. 

Dean swallows a little dryly with a few small nods, letting Cas’s hands fall from his backside as he walks over to the dresser.  

He can feel the ex-angel's eyes practically burning into the back of him as he opens the creaky drawer of the dresser, pulls out the iconic pair of baby-blue panties, and shuts the creaky drawer afterward. The little piece of clothing that was his exac demise a few weeks ago now rests in the palm of his hand like a sacred item. 

He turns back to Cas, being met with a gaze that is nothing short of hungry. His hand around the delicate fabric is a little clammy from anticipation, but he knows that there’s about to be worse on them than sweat, so it’s not that big of a deal. 

Cas holds his palm out as he walks up to him by the dresser, and the dainty panties are obediently set in the ex-angel's hand upon his arrival. 

“Thank you,” Cas murmurs as he leans in to press a kiss to the hunter’s forehead, then another to his lips.  

To Dean’s confusion, Cas gently tucks the panties into the pocket of his pajama pants.  

It takes a second to get his voice to work, but he manages to in time to argue with very obvious dissatisfaction in his voice, “I thought that we were gonna—” 

“Patience, Dean,” Cas says with a small smile and amusement in his eyes.  

The ex-angel had to tell him that a lot last time, too. He truly can’t be blamed, though. It’s not his fault that he gets so eager while Cas is literally standing in front of him with an obvious tent in his pants and panties in his pocket.  

“We’ll get there,” Cas whispers. They don’t really need to whisper, because Sam and Eileen are probably gone by now, but the atmosphere somehow seems to call for it.  

The lights in their room are dim and warm, the faint scent of a candle that had been blown out a few hours ago still barely wafting through the air. Gentleness is in the atmosphere, as is in Cas’s eyes.  

The ex-angel leans in to press another kiss to his lips, and Dean revels in the feeling of being far more comfortable with this than he had been last time. He’s still a little nervous, yeah, but this is so much better.   

Last time, he was incredibly worried for Cas to see him in nothing but panties, but now he craves it. He wants to be stripped and donned in nothing but the pair of dainty blue panties just how he knows that Cas will love to see him, and he wants it now.

As though his saving grace in the face of insatiable horniness, Cas’s hands place low on his waist. He holds there for a moment while letting his lips move softly against Dean’s, though then pulls away and begins slowly—too slowly for Dean’s liking—rucking the shirt up his torso.  

He’s standing just too far away for Dean to grind against, leaving the hunter stranded with nothing but his lust and the feeling of Cas far too slowly trailing his t-shirt up his torso.  

“Cas,” he whines quietly with a tone of argument. His hands rest on the back of the ex-angel's triceps because he’s just too far away for Dean to wrap his arms around.  

“What?” Cas asks innocently with a small smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of how worked up the hunter is.  

“Take it o—oh,” Dean tries to complain but gets cut off by a weak moan at the feeling of Cas deliberately choosing that moment to brush thumbs over his nipples.  

“I am taking it off,” the ex-angel murmurs fondly, smiling to himself as he takes another indulgent moment to thumb at the hardened nubs and send shivers down Dean’s spine.  

As he begins slowly pushing the shirt up a little more until Dean has to lift his arms up to help get it off, the hunter complains, “Well I want you to start takin’ stuff off faster,” nearly under his breath as though saying it more to himself than to Cas.  

Dropping the shirt to the ground off to the side of them, Cas bears a raised eyebrow in reaction to the impatient attitude.  

He watches Dean’s cheeks redden as he simply lets the man sit with his petulant complaint remaining stagnant in the air, and then places his hands on the dips of Dean’s now-bare waist, making the hunter jolt slightly.  

Leaning in, Cas mouths teasingly slowly at his neck for a moment in a way that has Dean letting his head tip back with a low groan. He suckles at the soft skin right beneath the line of his jaw, stubble scraping the hunter’s neck before he kisses his way back up to his ear.  

“...What did I tell you?” he whispers gently, voice all deep and gravelly in a way that makes Dean shiver.  

The hunter gulps near-cartoonishly, recognizing in this very moment that they very clearly are venturing into a far more distinct dominant-and-submissive sort of situation than he’d anticipated.  

He twitches in his boxers at the thought. 

“Hmm?” Cas questions, slowly sliding large palms up his torso until his thumbs reach nipples again. 

Dean draws his bottom lip into his mouth, thighs clenching for a moment as if attempting to press together (though mostly unable to do so due to his feet being just too far apart and his bowed legs obstructing the ability to fully do so). Why is the idea of Cas simply making him say it turning him on so much? 

“What did I tell you a second ago?” the ex-angel asks again as he rubs his thumbs in feather-light circles around the nubs on his pecs. Dean can faintly hear the smile in his voice. 

Resisting the urge to moan at the way that this is making blood rush south in his body, he swallows a little dryly before somehow successfully managing to form words.  

“...Be patient,” he whispers before immediately tucking his lip back beneath his top row of teeth.  

“To be patient,” Cas parrots in confirmation with a slow nod. He places a kiss to his earlobe before suckling it gently in a way that makes Dean’s hips twitch forward pathetically.  

Dean whines barely audible low in his throat, sound unable to come out of his mouth thanks to his dutifully bitten lip. His hands are grabbing at Cas’s back again now, though he’s resisting the urge to grind his hips. He’s supposed to be patient.  

Cas presses a kiss to the earlobe once more before that gravelly voice is whispering low in his ear again.  

“...Were you being patient?” he asks lowly, voice gentle but carrying an underlying note of dominance that makes Dean so horny that he feels dizzy with it. 

Cas’s voice almost carries a tone like those kids TV-show, cartoon protagonists that talk right to the audience, asking, “Do you see the map?” as if they could actually hear the answer on the other side of the TV screen. 

Just like that TV-show protagonist, Cas knows that he knows the answer, but the fun of the game is that he’s gonna make him say it.  

Dean is a grown man. Over 40 years old. He’s a grown man, with a deep register of speaking and muscles and stubble and battle scars. He has a gruff voice and calloused hands and frequently bruised knuckles.  

...Yet, still, he finds himself whispering a sheepish, “No,” in response to Cas’s question like a kid with their hand stuck in the cookie jar.  

Cas hums quietly in his ear as though both agreeing and pleased with his honest answer, planting another kiss to his ear before pulling back to be able to look him in the eyes. It is unsurprising that the hunter is met with a lustful (yet fond) smirk from the ex-angel.  

Dean’s sure that his face is probably beet-red right now, though it somehow only manages to get redder when Cas slides his hands down the sides of his torso to roam down over his ass as whispers, “Are you going to be?”.  

Dean’s soft intake of breath through his nose and reddening face is a delightful sight for Castiel, and it only gets better when the typically macho, gruff Dean Winchester responds silently with a timid and undeniably submissive nod.  

Cas smiles softly, leaning in to peck the hunter on the lips before murmuring a pleased and casual, “Good,” as if he didn’t just practically melt Dean’s brain into submission.  

Cas’s hands grip at him for a moment as he lets their lips slide languidly against one another’s, though then suddenly slides his hands up to Dean’s lower back and then down again—this time under the boxers and pajama pants.  

The hunter twitches forward towards Cas’s body, a startled moan muffling into the ex-angel's mouth at the feeling of warm palms grasping the bare skin of his ass. Cas hums softly, kneading shamelessly as he grips and squeezes and spreads and unsqueezes and squeezes again.

Once he pulls his mouth away, Cas gently begins sliding Dean’s bottoms down. He crouches as he goes down with the clothing, shimmying boxers and pajama pants down at the same time whilst getting down to kneel in front of Dean.  

Somehow, even though Cas is the one kneeling in front of Dean, it is still obvious who truly has the high ground.  

The bottoms drop around Dean’s ankles at the same time that Cas instructs, “Step out of them,”.  

Dean wastes no time complying, obediently stepping out of the pants around his ankles so that Cas can toss them off to the side just like he did the t-shirt. It makes Dean’s face flush red-hot at the fact that he’s currently fully naked with his cock standing very proudly at attention, meanwhile Cas is kneeling in front of him completely clothed.  

The ex-angel peers blue eyes up at him, and Dean can see the smugness in his gaze.  

His throat bobs with a nervous swallow, though it isn’t bad nerves. It’s good nerves. It’s nervousness, but it’s nervousness that he knows Cas will take in stride and take care of.  

Cas slides large palms up his quads with thumbs that brush teasingly along his inner thighs in the process, then around the backs of his thighs right beneath the curve of his rear end, then up the sides of his quads to finish settled on his hipbones.  

“You’re beautiful,” Cas praises, watching Dean’s expression cringe immediately.  

“Cas, don’t—” 

The hunter’s complaint is cut off by a shake of Cas’s head with a soft sort of “aht-aht” noise of disapproval.  

“No, Dean,” Cas refutes gently. “I don’t want to hear that,” he says in reference to Dean’s denial of the compliment.  

Dean wilts a little at the gentle reprimand, feeling extra sensitive at the current moment for a reason that he can’t quite articulate right now.  

“You’re beautiful,” Cas repeats while purposefully holding the hunter’s gaze, watching Dean’s throat bob with a swallow as he averts his eyes shyly to look past the ex-angel.  

Though, he doesn’t deny it, and that’s at least an acceptable enough response for Cas for now.  

Dean takes a deep breath in and out, wanting Cas to go ahead and get the panties on him instead of just sitting and staring at him. He’s not going to complain, though. He’s being patient.  

Cas smiles softly before leaning in to gently kitten-lick at the leaking head in front of his mouth, immediately drawing a punched-out moan from Dean in startle. 

He mouths at the tip and tastes salty precome on his tongue, knowing that he’s been stringing the hunter on for quite a while already.

Really, he’s not entirely planning on trying to keep Dean prolonged and drawn out until an orgasm. If Dean wants to feel like a girl...then Cas is going to make him feel like a girl. 

...And girls don’t always settle at one orgasm.  

“Cas,”  Dean whispers with a crease of his eyebrows in pleasure as the ex-angel licks a stripe up the underside of his cock. He watches Cas tongue at the underside of the head for a moment, whining quietly in reaction to both the feeling and the sight.  

The blue eyes peering up at him are almost too intimidating to continue looking down into.  

Cas starts to plant slow, teasing kisses down the side of his cock, and Dean thinks that he might explode. He knows that Cas told him to be patient, but he’s strung so tight already that he thinks his entire body might spontaneously combust by the end of all of this.  

Dean’s about to whine his name again until Cas finally decides to actually take him into his mouth, though only bobs around the first inch or so past his head.  

A whimper sounds from the back of his throat, and Dean nearly has to reach a hand to grab onto the dresser behind him for support because of how weak this is making his knees feel, though the furniture is just too far away. It’s taking all of his self-control not to thrust into Cas’s mouth.  

The hands that were resting on his hips start to trail gently all along his thighs again, and Dean can’t quite tell if the staticky sound in his ears is the fan that they keep on for background noise or if its the blood rushing in his head. It’s probably the latter.  

Cas starts to bob deeper despite maintaining a slow pace, tongue wet on the underside of the length and mouth suctioned tight. He keeps his cheeks hollowed, making Dean feel like all of the blood in his body is rushing into his cock and being coaxed to the few inches being sucked into Cas’s mouth. 

His toes curl where he stands, and he has to take a moment to squeeze his eyes shut and tilt his head back.  

His entire body is so damn sensitive and they haven’t even gotten the panties on yet. This is a simple blowjob just like they’ve done many times before, and yet Dean still feels like he’s having to consciously keep himself from blowing his load already. He’s not going to survive this.  

Cas pulls off, and the cool air of the room feels like a stark contrast on his cock after having gotten used to the feeling of being inside of Cas’s warm, wet mouth.  

“Dean,” the man rasps, giving a gentle squeeze to his muscled thighs to get him to look down. 

Cas looks nothing short of pleased at himself as he watches the heavy rising and falling of Dean’s chest. The ex-angel's smile is somehow both fond and smug as he gently instructs, “I want you to keep looking at me,” with raised eyebrows as though setting an expectation.  

Dean’s cock twitches embarrassingly obviously, drawing a far more smug smile out of Cas now (rather than how it had been mostly fond).  

“Yes?” the ex-angel asks in wait for confirmation. 

With a small nod, Dean quietly answers, “Yeah,” with a very red face. It scares him a little how much he had to bite his tongue from instead responding with, “Yes, sir,”. Somehow, he doesn’t think that Cas would necessarily be opposed to that, though.  

Dean obediently holds eye contact as Cas slowly leans back in towards his cock, whining softly when the wetness of the ex-angel's mouth begins to encompass his length once more.  

It takes all of his strength to not thrust into Cas’s mouth because he’s going so slow that its damn near agonizing. Dean knows that it’s on purpose, though. It’s Cas’s intention to get him as mind-melty as possible. 

...And he is certainly succeeding.  

Cas takes him a bit deeper while bringing one a hand to massage shamelessly at his balls, drawing a soft moan from Dean’s lips while keeping his free hand on the back of the hunter’s thigh.  

In addition to how much it clearly turns Dean on to follow Cas’s guidance, it turns Cas on a great deal to witness how hard the hunter strives to follow his guidance. The way that Dean is clearly trying his best to keep his eyes on Cas’s own despite how shyly he keeps obviously wanting to look away is incredibly pleasing for the ex-angel to witness.  

Cas keeps one of his hands massaging in its place, though sneakily moves his other around the back as he continues to bob his head. It’s a great deal of multitasking, but it’s rewarding to see the hunter’s reactions.  

A startled moan travels up out of Dean’s chest when two fingers suddenly brush dryly over his rim, hips twitching uncertainly between the contrasting sensations with a whimper of,“Cas,” falling from his lips.  

Much to Cas’s pleasure, Dean still keeps his green eyes locked on blue for the entirety of the ordeal.  

The ex-angel rubs up and down with two pads of dry fingers, adding extra stimulation for Dean as he continues to bob his head and fondle with his other hand.  

Dean’s lips stay parted with weak whimpers slipping out beyond his control, brow creased in pleasure as he watches the obscene sight occurring and processes the near overwhelming stimulation happening. He can feel warmth pooling in his gut, but it’s too soon. He literally hasn’t even put the panties on yet.  

A filthy swirl of Cas’s tongue makes the hunter moan and nearly tip his head back before catching himself at the last second, remembering to keep his eyes on Cas’s while breathing heavily with weak knees. 

Both of Cas’s hands return to his thighs, mouth sliding off with lewd pop as he catches his breath.  

Dean works a lip beneath his upper row of teeth, cock kicking both at the new lack of stimulation as well as the look in Cas’s eyes that is nothing short of proud.

The ex-angel smiles softly with a swipe of hand across his chin to wipe off saliva, peering up at the flushed face and neck of the hunter above him. 

Now, Dean thinks, hoping that Cas’s next movement will be to grab the panties out of his pocket. He really can’t wait any longer, despite how much he’s trying his best to be patient. 

The ex-angel gives a gentle squeeze to his thighs before instructing, “Turn around,” with a soft smile and something akin to plotting in his eyes.  

Reddening in the face, Dean obediently turns around with a deep breath in and out. It’s occurring to him once again that he’s literally completely naked while Cas is fully dressed, and it’s also occurring to him that that honestly turns him on a lot for some reason. 

Cas’s hands slide up and down the back of his thighs, and he can practically feel the ex-angel's lustful gaze burning into his backside.  

He waits patiently for instruction.  

He’s unsure what he’s supposed to be doing nor what Cas’s plans are now, and he’s distantly a little embarrassed at how he's literally waiting for Cas to tell him what to do before doing anything, but more than anything, he loves this. He wants to be good. 

The sudden instruction of, “Step,” from behind him brings him out of his thoughts.  

He turns with a quiet, “What?” and look at Cas, though halfway through turning around sees the baby-blue panties that Cas is holding in front of his feet with the foot-holes situated open for him to step into.  

He can see Cas’s fond grin out of the corner of his eye when he mumbles, “Oh,” before turning back around, obediently stepping his foot into one of the foot-holes. His tongue feels a little heavy in his mouth. 

In a way that he should probably be embarrassed about but isn’t, he waits for Cas to instruct, “Other one,” before moving, obediently following and stepping his other foot into the other foot-hole. 

Cas praises a soft, “Good,” from behind him, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice.  

Dean has the sudden shift of train of thought that this isn’t something that he should be praised for. He’s having clothes put on him—a dainty pair of panties, at that—like a child that doesn’t know how to dress themselves, and Cas is telling him that he’s, “Good,” for obeying and allowing himself to be dressed. This is dumb. 

...And, worst of all, he loves it.  

“Are you okay?” Cas asks gently as though he can somehow shift the change of demeanor. The panties stay around his ankles, and the ex-angel doesn’t drag them up his legs yet. 

Dean turns to look at him over his shoulder with a soft, “Mm-hmm,” before turning back around, immediately (a little pathetically) comforted by simply seeing the ex-angel's face.  

“Okay,” Cas whispers, giving another gentle squeeze to his thighs.  

Dean can hear the ex-angel shifting around behind him, and is about to turn to see what he’s doing when he instead hears a gentle, “Put your hands on the dresser,”. Despite Cas’s tender and romantic tone of voice, there’s still a note of control in his words that makes Dean’s spine shiver a little bit.  

Despite not fully understanding what’s going on, he obeys. He goes to step forward, needing to be closer to better reach— 

“No,” Cas stops gently, putting his hand on the front of the thigh of the leg that had begun to step forward.  

He brings his foot back immediately, turning to look over his shoulder in question.  

The ex-angel's smile is fond despite the obvious arousal in his eyes, and the shifting sounds he’d heard now reveal that Cas has moved to sit up on his knees (instead of how he’d been on his knees but sitting on his achilles).  

“From right here,” Cas clarifies, putting his other hand on the front of Dean’s other thigh as well to insinuate for him to stay in place (just in case he misunderstands again).  

“Oh,” Dean answers hardly above a whisper. To be fair, he would have probably tripped over the panties around his ankles if his step had actually landed like he’d been planning to do, but he knows why Cas really wants him to put his hands on the dresser from here.  

They’re a couple of feet away from the piece of furniture, meaning that Dean is practically going to be leaning away from Cas and arching his back if his feet stay here. 

He timidly reaches one hand at a time for the sake of maintaining his balance, landing one hand and then the other and winding up with straight arms and his body leaned forward slightly.  

His shoulders are up close to his ears and his pelvis a little tucked under, clearly trying to shyly avoid completely arching his back in the way that would be easiest for the position (and in the way that is obviously Cas’s intention in having him place his hands like this). 

Though, when Cas’s two palms come up on his rear end and suddenly boldly spread him wide, he doesn’t have much of a choice.  

His back arches with a soft moan and shoulders fall down from his ears, actually even giving a nice stretch to his back in the current position in a yoga-y sort of way. His knees are straight, arms reached long in front of him in a way that practically has him bent nearly halfway over. 

Cas doesn’t do anything yet other than observe in a way that makes Dean’s face hot despite not even being able to see Cas doing it. Dean can hear the soft, “Mmm,” sort of hum from Cas behind him, the ex-angel sounding completely pleased at the mere sight. 

Though, he then grows confused when Cas’s hands remove and begin to instead gently push on the inner sides of his calves. 

Dean tries to turn his head over his shoulder but pretty much can’t from the current position, though thankfully hears the instructing, “Spread your legs a bit wider,” and understands that Cas is trying to nudge his legs apart.  

He begins to shuffle his feet a little further apart, though stops shortly afterward out of fear of stretching the undergarments. When Cas soothes a gentle, “It’s alright. They stretch,” upon noticing, he shyly shuffles his feet just a little bit further and then stops when Cas softly says, “That’s enough,” with a fond tone of voice.  

It always baffles Dean that Cas can sound so gentle and fond when Dean is literally standing with his legs spread wide enough to blatantly expose his hole while he’s arched over where he stands with his hands on the dresser and panties around his ankles. If he hadn’t already known that Cas loves him, then that aspect of all of this would be evidence enough for him to believe it. 

A whiny moan comes out of him when Cas starts pressing gentle kisses to the backs of his thighs and on his cheeks, the ex-angel kneading the soft flesh with his palms whilst practically acting as though he’s trying to get his lips on every inch of skin.  

“Cas,” Dean begs with a harder arch of his back as though trying to press his hips into Cas’s touch, attempting to look over his shoulder again despite knowing that he won’t be able to see the ex-angel.  

“Patience, Dean,” Cas murmurs fondly, reminding the hunter of his instruction.  

Dean whines softly as he turns his head to face the floor again, though the whine very quickly turns into a moan when he feels a press of lips right overtop his rim. 

The press of lips then quickly turns to a broad pass of tongue afterward, a feeling that is not unfamiliar for them by this point after the past year but yet still feels just as foreign to Dean every time.  

His back arches a little harder with another shameless moan, the position stretching out the muscles of his upper back and lats while Cas begins lapping his flattened tongue in broad licks overtop his rim.  

Dean’s sure that he’s probably dripping precome at this point, feeling hard as a damn rock. His body jolts with a shaky moan when Cas hums softly with his tongue right up against him, the vibration coursing on just the teasing side of not-enough throughout his body.  

He tells himself to be patient, but is sure that Cas won’t mind his eagerness that much as he presses his hips back harder towards the ex-angel's mouth while gripping the wood of the dresser with clammy palms.  

Cas presses open-mouthed kisses to him and gets him wet in a way that makes Dean feel dangerously girly, making him start to teeter right on that edge of giving in to the fuzzy feeling settling in his brain. 

Warm palms on his backside keep him spread open as Cas seems like he’s trying to get everything as wet as he possibly can, making Dean squirm with little room to do so anyway.  

“Cas,” he begs quietly, not wanting to be impatient but genuinely feeling like he might be going insane.  

Cas laps at him for a few moments longer before Dean hears shifting behind him again, the hands falling away from his rear end.  

Cas adjusts himself into a crouching position while continuing to mouth at Dean a little gentler, then gently grasps the panties around the hunter’s ankles and begins to slowly trail them up his legs.  

Dean whines a little more needily than he intends to when Cas’s mouth goes away, the only contact left being the feeling of Cas dragging the undergarments up his legs.  

The ex-angel shushes him softly as he settles the panties over his hips, entrapping the wetness of everything that just occurred now within the confines of fabric. His cock is in the front a little haphazardly, but he knows that Cas will fix it.  

A warm palm rubs from his lower back up to his neck a few times, soothing the faint tremble that is coursing under his skin. He feels Cas press a kiss to the knob of his neck before hands gently slide up the sides of his torso—making his body twitch at the slight tickle—until Cas’s palms slide under his armpits and rest on the front of his shoulders to help pull him back to a normal standing position. 

Dean lets himself be moved, delighting in the feeling of Cas’s warm body being close and present right behind his own as the ex-angel lets him lean his weight back into him. Cas’s hands slide up and down the sides of his torso with a soft, “Shh,” even though he technically didn’t say anything other than a few soft whimpers.  

Really, Cas is probably shushing his mind, trying to get him to the point where he’s thinking so little that Cas can completely take care of him without any inhibitions in the way. And they most definitely are already starting to get there, slowly but surely.   

He lets his head rest back heavily against Cas’s shoulder as the ex-angel slides warm palms down the front of his torso, though jolts with a soft moan when Cas suddenly takes him into hand. The ex-angel hums softly with a quiet, “Mmm,” as though enjoying his reaction, clearly not unaffected despite his carefully composed demeanor. 

Cas makes quick work of gently tucking Dean into the panties a little more neatly than when he’d first dragged the garment up the hunter’s legs. He tucks him so that Dean’s cock is angled to the side rather than pointing straight forward, perfectly snug within the fabric.  

He revels in the arch of Dean’s back against his chest when he slides his palm back and forth overtop the panties, gently rubbing the hard length beneath the delicate fabric.  

“These fit you perfectly,” he whispers in the hunter's ear, keeping one hand on the front of Dean’s abdomen to keep him close whilst rubbing this other in a feather-light touch overtop the fabric. 

He can hear the heavy breaths through Dean’s nose, the hunter barely resisting the urge to not thrust into his palm.  

“Is this one of your favorites?” Cas asks, smiling when Dean’s hips twitch forward with a shaky whimper. “Hmm?” he asks, earning a few fervent nods from the hunter.  

He presses a kiss to Dean’s temple before whispering, “It’s one of mine,” with unadulterated lust in his voice.  

Dean can only moan in response, hips twitching forward into the heat of Cas’s palm again. 

Cas plants a few kisses on the side of his face, rubbing his hand teasingly slowly up and down the hunter’s abdomen while continuing to palm him through the panties.  

Dean’s whole body jerks with a punched-out moan when the hand on his abdomen comes up sneakily to start thumbing at a nipple. Cas’s finger rubs the hardened nub while his other hand pays closer attention to the head of his cock, rubbing at the clothed tip back and forth in small motions with the middle three fingers of his hand.  

The mental realization that Cas is practically treating the head of his cock as if it were a clit immediately makes Dean arch harder with a moan, hand coming up to grab onto the wrist of the hand thumbing at his nipples for support in reaction to the onslaught of arousal.  

Cas hums softly in pleasure before whispering, “Look how wet you are,” in awe with his gravelly, lust-hoarsened voice. He rubs the 3 fingers in tiny circles right on top of the obvious patch of precome already staining the baby blue fabric—even despite him just recently having readjusted Dean’s cock into position within the panties.  

“Leaking into your pretty panties,” the ex-angel murmurs in narration as though talking more to himself than Dean.  

“So—oh, Dean,” Cas starts though cuts off with a moan when Dean’s free hand sneakily comes down behind his own backside to palm the ex-angel overtop the pajama pants.  

Cas flips him around eagerly a second later and wastes no time connecting his mouth to Dean’s, sliding his palms slowly up and down the hunter’s back as he presses him closer. 

Dean keeps palming him through the pajama pants, reminding Cas of just how much his need is truly amped up as much as Dean’s. He licks into the hunter’s mouth with a soft hum, letting his hands roam down to grasp at the meat of his glutes without hesitation. 

Cas begins to nose at the side of Dean’s face, hands gripping and kneading as he whispers, “I love that you let me have you like this,”. 

Dean moans softly with a few nods, nonverbally communicating, “Me too,” despite not having to actually say the words.  

He mouths gently at the hunter’s ear in a way that makes Dean squirm, breath hot against cartilage as he whispers, “So pretty,”.  

Dean’s whole body twitches forward into the heat of Cas’s body when one of the ex-angel's hands moves from the cheek beneath its palm to instead rub right on his rim overtop the panties, fingers rubbing up and down against where he’s wet beneath the fabric as he murmurs, “Such a good listener,” in praise.  

Dean drops his head to the crook of Cas’s shoulder, letting himself moan freely as he moves both hands to clutch at the t-shirt on the ex-angel's back. He ruts his crotch shamelessly against Cas’s own, moans and whimpers weak and sounding higher in register than they typically would for a man with as deep of a voice as his own. 

“I wish you’d told me sooner so that I could’ve had you like this all year long,” the ex-angel whispers, continuing to rub Dean’s rim with one hand and knead glute with the other. “Don’t you?” he adds, earning nodding against the crook of his neck that is nothing short of desperate.  

“How long had you been keeping it a secret from me?” he asks with no judgment in his tone, rather pure  tease  instead.  

Dean can only moan weakly in response, biting down on his lower lip as he feverishly grinds against Cas through the fabric. 

“How many times over the years have I been in your room while your panties had secretly been hidden in the drawer?” the ex-angel asks, a smile in his voice at how obviously worked up this is getting Dean. 

The hunter moans again before pulling back to look Cas in the eyes as he whispers, “A lot,” with his gaze flicking back and forth between the ex-angel's lips. He watches blue eyes turn darker with lust.  

“A lot?” Cas asks in clarification despite definitely having heard correctly. Dean nods with a soft, “Mm-hmm,” before surging in to connect their lips for a moment.  

Shortly afterward, his lips part away from Cas’s with a whiny sound in his throat when the two fingers rubbing against him through wettened fabric suddenly begin to press in—just barely enough that he can feel it.  

“Were you ever wearing them without me knowing?” Cas asks, that hungry look returning tenfold in his eyes. “Out on a hunt saving lives while secretly wearing a dainty pair of panties under your jeans the entire time?” he adds on, watching as Dean’s eyebrows furrow in pleasure at the words.  

The hunter nods eagerly as his hips press back towards the fingers pressing into him overtop the fabric, lip bitten and cheeks red as he breathes heavily through his nose.  

Cas’s next question, “Did anyone else ever know about how much you like these?” is simple, but Dean hears the underlying question within it.  

Within Cas’s simple words lie the actual question: “Did you do this with anyone other than me?”.  

Dean swallows hard with a twitch of his hips as he nods before choking out, “Once,”.  

Cas groans low in his throat before whispering, “Who?” while he presses his fingers a little deeper, not wanting to mess up the fabric but desperate to be inside of the hunter somehow.  

Dean gasps at the feeling before panting, “Rhonda,”.  

He rocks his hips back and forth between the heat of Cas’s crotch and the fingers pressing into him as he gives the best explanation that he can at the moment, “Was when I was younger. They were—oh—were pink,”. 

Cas groans again before repeating, “They were pink?” as though wanting confirmation. He seems to like doing that; seems to like the way that it forces Dean to think about what his horny-addled brain said and let it turn him on even more.

Dean nods eagerly before adding, “Were satiny, too,”.  

Cas moans softly as though turned on by the mere thought. He spreads Dean wider with the hand on his glute whilst letting his fingers prod further inside of him as he murmurs, “Rhonda’s a very lucky girl,”.  

Dean whines with a bitten lip, humming a shaky, “Mm-hmm,” in answer. He’s so hard that he feels like he can’t see.  

Without thinking first, he suddenly finds himself whispering, “She told me I had ‘hips like a girl’,”. He also finds himself realizing that it truly isn’t as scary to say as he’d worried it would be.  

Cas moans a soft, “Oh,” as though pleased to simply hear it. He lets his fingers pump in and out (not very deep at all though, given the constraints of the fabric) while he leans in close to Dean’s ear, letting his breath pant hot for a moment before asking, “Do you know what?”.  

Dean’s throat bobs with a swallow, clutching tighter at Cas’s back and squirming at the feeling of warm breath against his ear as he asks, “What?”. 

“...She’s right.”  

Dean drops his head to the crook of Cas’s shoulder again, hips rutting desperately against the man’s crotch with a particularly needy moan.  

Cas hums in satisfaction at the response, incredibly pleased at how worked up Dean’s getting and how much he’s surrendering himself to the pleasure.  

“If nobody ever knew except for her...” Cas starts again without giving the hunter time to recuperate from the last mind-melting words, listening to Dean whimpering pitifully as he says, “...then I bet that means that you had a lot of time all by yourself,”. 

The hunter nods, pulling back to be able to look at him again as if he doesn’t like not being able to see him.  

Cas returns to simply rubbing overtop of his rim instead of practically pumping the undergarment into him anymore, pupils blown out wide with lust as he whispers, “How much did you touch yourself in pretty panties like these?” while peering directly into needy green eyes.  

A shaky moan slips from the hunter’s lips. “A lot,” he answers just like he had earlier.  

Cas hums again, nodding slowly before he whispers, “I want you to show me,”.  

Dean moans louder than he means to at the vision that the sentence creates in his head, eyebrows creasing and chin dropping down to look at himself grinding against Cas.  

“Oh,” Cas says fondly on realization with a soft laugh before whispering, “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” as if telling him a secret.  

Dean blinks back up to him with a bitten lip, brow furrowed and looking through his eyelashes from the angle of his head even despite the fact that they’re mostly similar heights.  

Bravely, he nods. Though the movement is small, it is obviously the answer. 

Cas’s smile grows slyer, something devilishly lustful as he sighs in satisfaction. He gives a squeeze of both of his hands on Dean’s glutes while teasing, “You’d like me watching you touch yourself,”.  

It isn’t a question, because both men know the answer.  

Dean nods anyway.  

Cas moans softly with a small smile. He has a fiery look in his eye as he whispers, “Would you like it if I made you touch yourself in your pretty panties while I watched?” with a teasing, faux-soft tone of voice.  

Despite the faux-softness of his tone, though, they both know that he remains gentle regardless of his heated words.  

Bravely, Dean nods again. His cock is already leaking at the thought.  

Cas groans low in his throat, leaning in to press his lips to Dean’s hungrily. He kisses the hunter like a starved man, hand traveling down Dean’s abdomen until he’s gently squeezing overtop the rock-solid length straining within the fabric of the panties.  

Dean’s lips drop open despite staying close to his own, forehead pressed to Cas’s.  

With a purposeful brush of his thumb on the precome-stained tip overtop the fabric in a way that draws a wanton moan out of the hunter, Cas whispers against his lips, “Get on the bed,”.  

Dean should be humiliated at the way that he scrambles to get on the bed and follows Cas’s instructions, but he isn’t. He’s too damn turned on to care about being humiliated right now.  

Part of him would normally be cringing at Cas’s words, at the dynamic happening, at the interactions...but he’s so far-gone in horniness that he can’t even be bothered to feel anything other than pampered. He feels safe.  

He sits with his knees pulled up to his chest up near the headboard, discreetly rubbing his thighs together as he chews on his lower lip in incredibly horny anticipation.  

Cas pulls his shirt up and over his head, tossing it to the pile of Dean’s clothes as he moves to stand right in front of the foot of the bed. The tent in his boxers is incredibly obvious.  

Dean can feel another leak of precome into his boxers when Cas crooks a finger at him and instructs, “Come closer,” with a fond (though undeniably aroused) look in his eyes.  

Once he gets to a place that Cas has apparently deemed suitable, the ex-angel instructs, “Sit,” with that same hand held out to gesture for him to stop there. His free hand palms himself shamelessly over his pajama pants.  

Dean sits obediently, knees pulled up to his chest the same as he’d been at the headboard. 

Distantly, he thinks that he should be a little embarrassed about the fact that he’s practically following commands like a damn dog...but even more distantly thinks that that turns him on a little more than it probably should. Whatever. He’ll unpack that another day.  

He feels another small leak of precome against the fabric as he observes the craving way that Cas is looking at him.  

The ex-angel swallows with a bob of his throat, sighing softly at the feeling of his palm stroking himself back and forth. He inhales deeply and sighs heavily, pleasured from the mere sight of Dean in front of him before he whispers, “Spread your legs for me,”.  

Dean’s so turned on that he nearly feels sickened with it. He’d probably do just about anything that Cas goddamn asks him right now. 

He parts his legs open slowly, leaning his weight onto his hands behind him as he peers up at Cas through his eyelashes. As much as this all drives him crazy, he knows that the way he looks seems to drive Cas even crazier. He can’t just let Cas have all the fun.  

The ex-angel moans unabashedly as he squeezes his palm on himself, watching Dean tuck his lip beneath his teeth and give a near-imperceptible roll of his hips into nothing but the fabric of the panties.  

Cas groans at the sight.  

Dean does it again; more purpose in the movement this time.  

He’s grinding into nothing, but doesn’t care. He needs the friction. The mere concept of Cas being half-dressed and palming himself through his pants while staring at him wearing nothing but a pair of panties on the bed with his legs spread is mind-blowingly arousing.  

He slowly trails his hand down his abdomen—teasingly slowly, putting on a show—until he reaches the soft panties, squeezing himself overtop the fabric all while never breaking eye contact with Cas. 

Despite the blatant horniness in Cas’s eyes, the ex-angel raises a fond eyebrow before commenting, “I don’t remember saying that you could touch yourself,” with that typical Cas-esque sassiness despite the gentle nature of his voice.  

Feeling emboldened by the way that Cas is watching him, Dean finds the breath to argue, “Didn’t say that I couldn’t touch myself either,” with his typical Dean-esque sassiness despite the needy nature of his voice.  

Cas’s raised eyebrow loses a bit of its fondness—remaining gentle, but instead now carrying more of that stern look that drives Dean crazy more than anything else.  

Without a word needing to be spoken, Dean reluctantly removes his hand and puts it behind himself for support like his other hand.  

“Thank you,” Cas says with a fond smile as though proud of him for following instruction despite not technically having told him to do anything.  

Dean’s cheeks redden with a shy aversion of his eyes, though he can’t stop his hips from giving another roll against nothing but the fabric of the panties in response to the loss of touch. God, he’s hard.  

Cas bears a smirk in reaction to his desperate state as he begins palming himself again.  

“I want you to touch yourself for me...” Cas starts, though has to stop himself with a stern (yet fond), “Not yet,” when Dean starts to move a hand toward himself again. The hunter’s expression grows more sheepish as he puts the hand back down.  

“I want you to touch yourself for me...” Cas restarts, “...and I want you to do it how you used to before I found out,”.  

Dean’s expression grows a little conflicted; still definitely wanting to, but a little confused at the prompt. “Did it by myself for a long time, Cas,” he whispers. “Kinda did it a lot more ways than one,”.  

Cas picks up on the slight tone of dejection in his voice, wasting no time to chase it away with a soft, “I know,”. His expression is gentle as he clarifies, “I want you to show me your favorite ways,”. 

Dean’s face grows redder. 

“What were your favorite ways to touch yourself like this, Dean?” Cas asks, not sugarcoating the words or bothering to make them less bold whatsoever. It makes the hunter's cock kick involuntarily in the panties. 

“Uh, um...” Dean starts, eyes averting as he thinks while nibbling on his bottom lip. “Well, most of the time I’d just...y’know...” he says quietly with a vague gesture towards his crotch.  

Cas raises an eyebrow and gives a small shake of his head in question.  

God, Cas is gonna make him say all of it. The realization makes the hunter both way hornier and way more impatient at the same time  

Dean sighs a little heavy through his nose in something akin to sexual frustration, though then more gracefully articulates, “I’d like...jack off, y’know?”.  

Cas nods with a soft, “Mmm,” in understanding as if he hadn’t understood in the first place. They both know that he did, though. He just likes to see Dean squirm. 

“Over or under the panties?” he asks, watching Dean’s face fall into something shyer at the straightforward question. 

In a way that is difficult to describe, Cas finds that Dean almost gets a sort of look in his eyes when he starts giving in. When Dean starts to grow more and more submissive, that look starts to show up.  

It’s starting to show up, right now. 

“...Both,” the hunter mumbles sheepishly with an unrestrained roll of his hips. He’s so horny that he feels like he might be overheating.  

“Which did you like more?” 

“Cas,” Dean complains, growing more desperate by the second and frustrated at the lack of stimulation.  

“Dean.” the ex-angel says a little sterner. His voice is still gentle, though it packs expectation.   

Though the ex-angel doesn’t say it, Dean can mentally hear Cas’s instruction of, “Patience, Dean,” like he’s already had to say so many times.  

The hunter averts his eyes a little guiltily, looking at his aching cock and taking a deep breath before softly answering, “Over,” as he looks back up to Cas’s gentle blues.  

There’s that look, the ex-angel thinks to himself.  

“I thought you’d say that,” Cas says with fondness all over his voice. The sweet tone of voice is a stark contrast to the way that he suddenly slips his hand beneath his pajama pants and begins to stroke himself within the confines of the bottoms.  

After Dean’s next desperate roll to hips, Cas instructs, “Show me,”. Dean looks at him with question in his eyes before he clarifies, “Show me how you’d touch yourself over your panties,”.  

Holy hell. This is like the kinkiest thing that they’ve ever done with each other and it isn’t even that kinky to begin with but it still is, and it’s kinky in such a tender, loving way that it seems like it shouldn’t be possible for what they’re doing but it is.

Working his lip back under his teeth, Dean slowly slides his hand down his abdomen like he’d done before. He feels the warmth of his bare skin beneath his palm, hips rolling as he sighs heavily and lets his head tip back.  

He groans breathily when his palm comes in contact with his cock over the panties, fingers splaying wide as he rolls his crotch right up into his warm hand.  

Put on a show, he thinks to himself with a tiny leak of precome adding to the stain. 

He tips his chin back down, needy eyes locking onto Cas’s. The ex-angel shakes his head with a broken sort of awe in his eyes, hand stroking himself slowly under the pajama pants.  

Dean’s back arches into every roll of his hips, palming himself shamelessly as he peers directly into the blue eyes staring back at him. When he hears the near-inaudible praise of, “Such a pretty boy," from Cas’s lips across from him, a wholly unashamed moan travels up out of his throat. 

It’s higher pitched than usual, and a more desperate part of him wishes that the final word of Cas's sentence had been different, but he’s plenty satisfied by the praise given. He wants to hear it again.  

He thinks of himself the last time that they did this, and nearly laughs at the thought of how nervous he’d been then compared to now.   

“What would you think about, Dean?” Cas asks, voice arousal-hoarse and gravelly.  

Dean cups his palm so that he can stroke his length properly over the fabric instead of just leisurely palming himself.  

“This,” he pants out. 

“This?” Cas asks, equally as breathless. 

Dean nods eagerly, paying a moment of special attention to his leaking tip. 

“What about this would you think about?” the ex-angel inquires. “What made you feel good?”. 

Dean’s eyelids flutter when he moves his hand down to massage his balls through the panties, though he keeps his eyes locked onto Cas’s.  

“You,” Dean starts obviously before next listing, “Would think about you watchin’ me, too,”. 

Cas groans low in his throat. He hadn’t fully expected that out of him at first given his usual timidness, but seeing the way that Dean is acting for him now? He seems entirely in his element. Cas isn’t the least bit surprised by the statement, but God is he turned on by it.  

“You like watchin’ me,” Dean says. It isn’t a question, because both men know the answer. “Like watchin’ me make myself feel good,”. His eyes are half-lidded and filled with little other than pure need and lust.

This is so much better than all of the years past when he would touch himself like this and feel nothing short of guilty. He used to feel dirty, and yet Cas’s eyes somehow make him feel clean.  

The ex-angel's breath is heavy, having to catch it in order to instruct, “Tell me more,”.  

Dean’s hips buck up into his hand, trying to get his thoughts in order to be able to answer, “Would think about how wrong it feels,” with a crease of his eyebrows and heavy breaths.  

Briefly, when paired with the statement, Cas can’t tell if the crease of eyebrows is borne of pleasure or insecurity.  

“Dean—” 

“Then I’d think ‘bout how it felt so right,” the hunter finishes, beginning to get lost in his own world of fantasy as he drops his gaze from Cas’s eyes to look at his hand rubbing himself through the panties. “And I thought how it can’t be wrong ‘cause it feels so good,” he adds, voice growing whinier. 

Girlier, Cas thinks.  

“You’re absolutely right,” he commends gently before tacking on, “It isn’t wrong,”.  

Dean groans higher in his throat with another roll of his hips. 

It wasn’t Cas’s intention with this, but he’s beginning to realize that them having this current discussion is likely healing for the hunter in more ways than intended. Him being told that what he’s doing is not wrong and that it’s okay for him to feel this way while he’s actively making himself feel good by doing it is inarguably a healing experience for the man.  

Dean’s throat bobs with a swallow, catching his breath before whispering, “Made me feel pretty,” as though saying it like a secret with his gaze glued to the baby-blue panties confining his cock. 

“You are pretty,” Cas praises, feeling pride whirling warm and loving in his chest. 

Dean’s gaze travels to where Cas is finally taking himself out of the pajama pants and boxers. With a soft moan, he watches the ex-angel lift his cupped palm to his mouth, spit into it, and bring it back down to wrap around himself completely casually as if that wasn’t damn near pornographic. 

...Granted, what Dean’s currently doing is technically a little more pornographic. He’s literally masturbating in a pair of women’s panties in front of Cas.  

...And, normally, having that thought in a little more clarity would have probably just scared him out of doing it. It would’ve been the exact thought that he’d need to put an end to this because he’d realize what he’s doing and he’d realize that he’s disgusting. But...with the way that Cas is looking at him...he simply can’t bring himself to feel that way.  

Instead, he feels good, and he feels pretty. 

He feels pretty, and he feels wanted. Cas wants him, and Cas wants him exactly like this, and God that’s hot.  

Dean’s legs start to trail closed, feeling warmth building low in his gut and instinctively trying to squeeze his legs shut just like he’d had to do earlier but couldn’t because of his bowed legs and feet being just too far apart.  

“Open them back up,” Cas instructs gently. The sound of his hand slickly stroking himself is obscene.  

Dean’s so horny that he’s beginning to wonder if it’s possible to give himself a fever. With a soft whine in disagreement, he reluctantly opens his legs back up despite how much his body wants to squirm instead of staying in one position.  

“Good,” Cas whispers, squeezing his hand at the base of himself to tamper down some of his need.  

“Do you like me watching you?” the ex-angel asks with a small, knowing smile when he watches Dean’s hips roll up into his hand a little desperately.  

The hunter nods eagerly, squeezing himself over the fabric.  

“I can tell,” Cas murmurs fondly, sounding again like he’s talking to himself more than to Dean. “You’re wet,”. 

Dean’s head tips back with a moan, lips parted and eyebrows creased in pleasure. He really is wet. He’s recognizing that Cas’s oral treatment before sliding the underwear up his legs must have been purposeful, because everything literally feels wet.   

Dean tips his head back down, eyes locking onto the way that Cas is slowly sliding his hand up and down on himself. He watches the movement of Cas’s palm, imagining it as if that very palm is the one currently feeling him up overtop the panties.  

He’s been in this very situation of touching himself and thinking about it being Cas’s hand instead of his own so many times before, and now Cas is in front of him watching him do it. Holy shit.  

“Dean,” Cas says to get his attention.  

Half-lidded green eyes snap up to his own, peering through his lashes with a brow creased in pleasure as he continually rolls his hips into the warmth of his palm.  

“Keep your eyes on me,” the ex-angel instructs, drawing a soft moan from Dean’s lips.  

He keeps his eyes on Cas’s.  

It’s so tempting to look away like this. Holding eye contact with someone for a long time is already usually kind of awkward, but this is like a challenge. He can’t look away, even though Cas’s gaze is so intense that it’s intimidating. 

It makes it even better that he’s holding this purposeful eye contact with Cas while literally masturbating overtop the underwear. He can’t hide from what he’s doing, and he can’t hide from Cas’s gaze. 

...And it feels good.

“You said that you like to simply ‘jack off’, as you so eloquently put it,” Cas starts with a gesture to Dean’s hand on his crotch, watching the hunter’s cheeks redden. “What were some of your other favorite ways to make yourself feel good?” he asks, a lustful look in his loving eyes. 

Dean chews on his bottom lip for a moment before managing to get his heavy tongue to form the words, “Weren’t many,” with a small whimper at the end of his sentence when his tip rubs against the wetted inside of the fabric just right.  

“But there were more...” Cas starts knowingly with a raised eyebrow, “...weren’t there?”. His heart swells with pride at the way that Dean obediently keeps eye contact despite the obvious pleasure evident on his face. 

The hunter squeezes his eyes shut for just a brief moment while he gives a few fervent nods, though opens his eyes again to lock right back onto Cas’s. 

“I want you to tell me,” Cas instructs, practically unlocking Dean’s tongue with his words. 

Breathing heavily, Dean obediently pants out, “Pillow,” with a rougher grind of his crotch into his hand. “Would ride a pillow,” he finishes explaining all in one breath, eyes obviously wanting to dart away from Cas’s but staying strong.  

“Oh,” Cas says with a pleased smile. Doing that thing again where he parrots what Dean just said, Cas whispers fondly, “You’d ride a pillow in your panties?”. 

Dean’s brain might explode. This type of dirty talk and attention might normally make him cringe, but right now it’s everything that he’s ever wanted and more. And it’s Cas.

He nods fervently, squeezing his eyes shut again for a moment so that he doesn’t accidentally come simply from that hungry look in Cas’s eyes.  

“Show me.” 

“...Wha’?” Dean asks as his eyes snap back open, out of breath. 

Cas stalks around the side of the bed towards the headboard until he’s out of Dean’s eyesight unless the hunter were to turn around to look at him, then comes back a few seconds later to the spot he’d been standing in—though now bearing one of their plain, white pillows in his hand.  

Dean gulps near-cartoonishly, mouth somehow feeling both wet from arousal and also dry from how much he’s been moaning and panting through his mouth. It’s more-so that his mouth is wet and his throat is dry. Whatever.  

He can’t really think about that right now, because he’s instead a little too focused on Cas slowly setting the pillow down right in front of his spread legs. 

“Show me,” the ex-angel repeats, voice gentle but still having that dominating tone in it that makes Dean’s head swim.  

This is probably the horniest that Dean has ever been in his life. Maybe they should go multiple days between having pent-up panty sex more often.  

Dean looks back and forth a few times between Cas’s expectant blue eyes and the white pillow sitting innocently in the space between his spread legs. Evidently, Cas is dead serious. 

...And Dean is so turned on.   

He gulps again, giving a final squeeze overtop the panties before slowly beginning to reposition himself.  

He glances to Cas with uncertainty as he carefully moves to straddle the pillow, earning a quiet, “Mm-hmm,” of encouragement from the ex-angel and a few small nods. 

Inhaling deeply, he puts his hands on either side of the pillow and lowers himself down slowly until the fabric of the panties touches the fabric of the pillowcase. The baby-blue fabric has a very prominent stain of wet precome seeping through.  

“Good, Dean,” Cas praises, even though he technically hasn’t even done anything other than sit down.  

Dean chews on a lip, staring down at the pillow and at Cas’s hand sliding slowly up and down on his cock. He’s much closer to the foot of the bed now (where Cas is standing right in front of), and is easily within touching distance for the ex-angel.  

He doesn’t move his hips yet, despite how tempting it is. It’s been so damn long since he’s done this, but he doesn’t move yet. He’s being patient.  

Waiting for instruction, Cas thinks again proudly as he observes Dean’s careful stillness.  

“Look at me,” he instructs, watching as Dean’s green eyes immediately travel up to his own. The hunter’s face is flushed red, body lightly trembling with need. 

Cas’s eyes are darkened with something carnal despite the gentleness of the blues.  

“Move.” 

Dean whines quietly, looking down to watch his hips give a tentative roll against the pillow before moaning a little louder at the delightful feeling of the friction. He’s so damn sensitive by this point that he feels like a few grinds of this is gonna wind him up bursting like a dam. 

Gripping the pillow harder and shifting a bit on his knees to get a little lower to it, he draws his hips back and rolls them forward again with a shaky moan. 

“I said to look at me, Dean,” Cas reminds gently, though with no actual judgment or disappointment in his voice.  

Dean’s eyes snap up to his own, feeling a deep shudder run through his body as he holds Cas’s eye contact and rolls his hips again with another moan.

“Slower,” the ex-angel instructs. It’s a little sadistic when considering how obviously needy Dean currently is. It’s not that he wants to make Dean uncomfortable, but this is a sight that he would  really  like to savor as much as possible.  

Dean whines quietly as though wanting to argue, but obediently slows his rhythm down. He hadn’t even been going quickly in the first place, so this is just mind-numbing to be going even slower. 

“Good boy,” Cas praises, drawing an embarrassing moan out of the hunter involuntarily. Dean doesn’t go any faster, but grinds much harder when Cas leans in close to his ear to whisper, “Be obedient for me, and maybe I’ll call you something else,”.  

This Castiel seems so different from the everyday, not-in-the-bedroom Castiel that they all know and love so well; and, yet,  he’s so the same.

It’s Cas, the same Cas that’s a little socially awkward and has a stupid voicemail message and likes bees and watching Netflix and lets Dean put cowboy hats on him. It’s Cas—the same exact Cas—that talks to Dean so gently but so filthily, makes Dean melt into submission with carefully curated words, and quite literally looks at him like his one and only goal is to pound him into the mattress.

It’s that same exact Cas that loves him, and makes that love evident even in his dirty talk while Dean rides a pillow in front of him in a pair of women’s baby-blue panties.  

“Does it feel good?” Cas asks with a small, smug smile.  

The hunter nods eagerly, need written all over the features of his expression.  

“Yeah?” Cas asks, immediately earning an even more eager nod from Dean with a shaky sigh on a particularly good, slow roll of hips. 

As if the words that he’s saying aren’t incredibly  lewd and even damn near embarrassing for Dean to receive, the ex-angel shamelessly asks, “It feels good to ride the pillow in your panties?”. 

Dean doesn’t have half the mind to be embarrassed right now. He nods feverishly with a white-knuckled grip on the pillow and a broken, “Yeah,” that nearly comes out as more of a quiet moan than a spoken word. 

“Good,” Cas praises, having to tighten his hand on the base of himself again at the incredibly arousing sight. Holding Dean’s gaze, he whispers, “You look so pretty,” with a small smile. 

Absolutely lost in the feeling of being delightfully pampered and taken care of, Dean does not deny it. He moans softly, giving a more eager roll of his hips against the pillow while keeping his eyes locked on Cas’s like they’re the only thing that he knows how to look at.  

“You like this even more than simply touching yourself,” Cas observes, taking note of the familiar look in Dean’s eyes. Again, it is not a question. They both know the very obvious answer. 

Dean is close enough to him now that Cas can bring his free hand up to pet over the hunter’s hair in soothing sweeps. He’s warm to the touch.  

“Don’t you?” Cas asks, earning quick nods from the hunter with a quiet, “Yeah,” said through panting breaths. Dean’s hips pick up speed ever-so-slightly, but Cas doesn’t scold him for it. The hunter obviously is growing more desperate by the second.  

“Was this your favorite way to make yourself feel good?” Cas asks, watching as Dean immediately nods. The green eyes looking back at him are glazed over with want.   

Cas strokes himself slowly but with a tight hand. He has to maintain his self-restraint, because he—unlike he’s planning for the hunter—is not going to be able to have an orgasm midway through to satiate himself.  

He indulges in a few swipes of thumb over his tip, resisting the urge to tilt his head back so that he can instead maintain eye contact with Dean’s desperate gaze.  

Dean has that look in his eyes and it’s so needy. And, the best part of it all is that it’s all for Cas.   

Cas loves it. 

“How often would you put a pillow down and grind on it like a pretty girl?” he asks sultrily, taking a shot in the dark like he’d done a few days ago when they last did this. High risk, high reward.  

...And high reward it is.

Dean moans loudly, dropping his chin to his chest to look down at his hips eagerly grinding against the pillow through the confines of the panties. 

“Eyes on me,” Cas reminds a second later after graciously letting Dean have a moment to process the wave of arousal. Dean can hear the smile in his voice. 

The hunter’s gaze comes back up to his own, looking entirely debauched.  

Cas’s hand slides from where it was petting his hair to instead cup a cheek to keep Dean’s gaze up. With a little bit more difficulty, he manages to convince himself to take his hand off of his cock so that he can lift it to cup Dean’s other cheek as well so that he can effectively cradle the hunter’s face.  

Dean’s face and neck are red, eyes clouded with lust and brow furrowed in pleasure. Cas truly could look at this all day long.  

“Hmm?” he asks, having gotten no response to the dirty question (for understandable reason). “How often, Dean?” he prods, watching the hunter’s eyelids flutter. 

Though his tongue feels heavy in his mouth from the crash into submission that is currently occurring in his brain, he manages to get his words to work to pant out, “Lot,”.  

Cas knows that the answer is intended to be “a lot” despite the slightly slurred state of the words. “A lot?” he clarifies anyway, earning an eager nod with his hands still cradling Dean’s face.  

The hands on the pillow grip tighter, hips rutting desperately and cock leaking profusely into the dainty fabric. 

Cas has to breathe deeply for a moment to quell his own arousal as he cooks up his next words. This dirty talk happening is not only affecting Dean.  

“I bet you did it when people were home, too,” he whispers, reveling in the punched-out moan that it pulls from the hunter. “A bunker full of people all while you were secretly making yourself feel good in our room,” he adds. 

Dean nods, unashamed. 

“I bet you spent time in here...grinding against a pillow like this with only the lock on the door keeping anybody from finding you,” Cas whispers, painting the wonderful fantasy for the both of them through his words. “Hiding in your bedroom and straddling a pillow while wearing nothing but your panties,”. 

The statement draws a gasping sound out of Dean; somehow exceeding the pleasure of requiring a moan and instead locking his lungs for a moment as he ruts harder down into the pillow with a mostly-soundless noise of pleasure coming from his dropped jaw.  

The part that turns Dean on so much more is the fact that it isn’t a fantasy. It’s true, and has secretly happened many times.  

But it’s not a secret anymore. Cas knows. Cas knows what he’s been doing in secret, and God if that doesn’t turn him up even hotter.  

“How often did you grind your pretty panties against our pillows, and then let me sleep on them at night without having any clue?” Cas whispers teasingly.  

Dean’s entire torso shudders with a needy moan as he continually rocks his hips back before shoving them down in a roll against the pillow, desperately chasing the pleasure. He doesn’t have to answer with words. His reactions are plenty of a clear answer themselves.  

Cas doesn’t reprimand him to go slower. This is far too enjoyable to watch for the ex-angel to dare try to slow it down or put a stop to it.  

Dean can feel the scorching heat pooling in his lower gut, but he doesn’t have half the mind to try and stop himself from coming or preserve himself. All that he cares about right now is the words that Cas is saying, the panties rubbing mind-meltingly against his cock, and Cas’s eyes staring at him with pride.

“How many pairs of panties did you make a mess in?” Cas leans in closer to  whisper like it’s a dirty little secret before then pulling back to see Dean’s face again. They’re close enough that Dean can very clearly hear him, despite the lowered volume of his voice. 

His lips part and eyebrows furrow in pleasure, wanting to look down and see himself but unable to do so from Cas’s hands keeping his face gently cradled up to hold their eye contact. All he can do is feel the mind-spinning friction of his cock rubbing within the panties against the pillow; back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth desperately as he stares into Cas’s eyes. 

“A lot,” he finally answers, a whiny tone to his voice.  

His hips stutter in rhythm simply because of how difficult it is to keep up with the hurtling pleasure, whimpering pathetically as Cas’s thumbs rub back and forth on his cheeks soothingly for a moment with that look of unadulterated lust in his eyes. 

There’s something underneath the look in Cas's eyes that Dean can’t quite place, though. Something possessive. 

Dean is like this for Cas. Dean has never been like this for anybody but Cas. And Rhonda, but y’know. Not ever since her, and that was when he was a younger guy. 

This is Cas’s—and Cas’s only—to be allowed to witness. It is cherished.   

Cas tilts his head to the side with an impossibly fond look mixing with the lust in his eyes. Pride and love and arousal swirl all at once in his chest, and the love that he has for the man in front of him is immeasurable.  

As sentimental of a thought it is to have while Dean is literally grinding on a pillow in front of him, he’s so, so grateful that he gets to have the hunter like this. This is a sacred experience, and Dean trusts him enough to experience it with him.  

“Cas,” Dean pants, rubbing desperately against the pillow.  

“I know,” the ex-angel soothes, eyes both fond and smug. Cas leans in to press a kiss to his lips, though Dean can’t fully kiss back very well due to the sounds spilling helplessly from his lips.  

His knees and the inner sides of his hips and thighs ache from squeezing the pillow between his legs, and he’s growing more and more tired the longer that this goes on, but the pleasure is right there and he’s desperate for it and Cas’s eyes are so loving that he simply can’t stop despite how much it’s wearing him out.  

Cas’s voice so familiarly gravelly and hoarse with arousal as he whispers, “I think you’re about to make a mess in this pair, too,” with a small smile. His own cock twitches as he watches Dean desperately chasing the pleasure.  

The hunter moans in something akin to complaint, face red and body hot as he keeps his eyes locked onto Cas’s through his lashes. He doesn’t want to mess his panties up, despite having known going into this that he was going to. He also distantly knows that he doesn’t want to come yet, because he still wants Cas to fuck him.  

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, but he gets it to work enough to whine, “Don’t wanna,” with creased eyebrows.  

Cas coos softly, brushing his thumb on his cheek as he whispers, “We’ll buy more,” in promise with a small shake of his head. 

Despite a little dazedly not wanting to mess up the undergarments, it’s not like Dean’s gonna be able to stop it, now. The pleasure is building too fast, and the heat is coiled up tight in his gut as he ruts his hips with abandon and a white-knuckled grip on the pillow.  

“Cas,” he moans, chin twitching like he was trying to look down but was stopped by the hands cradling his cheeks.  

“I know,” the ex-angel soothes softly, own breath heavy from watching Dean’s desperation.  

The hunter rolls his hips hard against the pillow, face screwing up with pleasure as he whispers, “Don’t—don’t wanna—” 

“Mmm, but you’re going to, Dean,” Cas says to cut off Dean’s mindless complaints, voice coated with lust. “You’ve already gotten them all wet,”. 

The hunter’s eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with a mix of need and submission.

“I want you to,” he coaxes, watching as Dean’s torso shudders again at the words. “I want you to come in your pretty panties for me,” he whispers, keeping Dean’s face cradled and eyes up to him as the man’s lower body rolls desperately. 

Dean opens his mouth to speak before cutting himself off with a moan, hands holding a vice grip on the pillow as his eyes squeeze shut for a moment.  

This never used to be his first choice of getting off even though it was his favorite, and this is why. It’s so much harder, and so much more exerting, but when he comes it’s worth it because it feels so toe-curlingly good.   

And, suddenly, he quickly is feeling that familiar sensation building up and building up fast.   

He pants for a few seconds, the look in his eyes growing more desperate as he whimpers to Cas, “M’gonna,”. He doesn’t have to say the full sentence. Cas already can tell.  

“You’re gonna come?” Cas asks with a cocked brow, doing that thing where he basically repeats what Dean says and this time even somewhat repeats the tone that he’s says it. Cas isn’t typically the type to shorten the words “going to” to “gonna”, but he’s currently meeting Dean where the hunter is at—and that, currently, is deep in submission.  

Dean’s brow furrows in pleasure, face red-hot as he chews his lip and nods fervently with a quiet, “Uh-huh,”. He’s so far-gone that his voice doesn’t even sound like his own when he hears it.  

He’s a grown man, with stubble and battle scars and muscles, but he doesn’t feel like that right now. 

Right now, he feels like a pretty girl, with dainty panties snug on his hips, Cas’s hands cradling his cheeks, and an orgasm building low and fast in his gut. 

"Where are you gonna come?” Cas inquires softly with a small and smug smile, immediately drawing a wanton moan out of Dean as his hips shudder into the next roll down against the pillow.  

“Cas,” the hunter whines, glazed-over green eyes locked desperately onto blue. 

“Where’re you gonna come, Dean?”. 

Dean’s face screws into a sort of a pleasured grimace before he whispers, “Panties,” in a hardly audible voice and creased eyebrows. His hips practically shudder with each grind at this point, riding desperately in a way that is giving the ex-angel plentiful ideas for the future.  

Cas, in an equally as quiet voice, whispers, “Whose panties?” while leaned down a bit so that his face can be mere inches from Dean’s own. 

The hunter pants through his mouth for a moment, so deep in it that he can’t think about anything other than Cas.   

He breathes more than speaks it, but the whisper of, “My panties,” that gets trailed off into a whiny moan as he rocks even harder is still perfectly audible to Cas.  

The ex-angel shakily sighs a pleased, “Oh,” in both pride and satisfaction, smiling proudly. "Your panties,” he parrots in confirmation as if he didn’t already know. 

Cas leans forward to press a kiss to his forehead, the skin warm and slightly sweaty against his lips. Without thinking, he praises, “What a good girl,” with audibly genuine pride in his tone, brushing his thumbs back and forth as he shakes his head in awe. 

Dean’s jaw drops open with creased eyebrows, humping feverishly with a shaky moan. 

“Oh, there you go, honey,” Cas encourages proudly, own hips twitching forward at the arousing sight of Dean beginning to swiftly come undone.  

Dean’s voice is slurred and mumbled and whiny as he desperately whimpers, “Cas I—mmm, I’m—” 

“Go on, Dean. Come in your panties.” 

The hunter’s hips finally snap taught, hands squeezing the life out of the pillow beneath his palms and eyes snapping shut with an unashamed moan of pleasure. 

Cas praises, “Good, Dean,” as he watches Dean seep pulse after pulse through the delicate fabric, wetting a large splotch that turns the baby-blue into a darker shade as milky white seeps through the dainty material.  

“Such a good girl,” he praises proudly, Dean’s moans sounding nearly sobbing as his hips continually make tiny twitches forward and his eyes stay squeezed shut amidst the height of the sensations.  

“Good, honey,” Cas praises as the man (literally) rides it out, feeling some precome blurt out of his own cock at the sight of Dean unraveling and the sound of pleasured whimpers and whines.  

The hunter’s eyes crack open as the sensations slowly begin to dwindle, still riding it out as he peers half-lidded into the proud blue eyes staring right back at him. It feels like his body is going to keep coming forever.  

Cas shakes his head in awe upon making eye contact, breathing it more than speaking it when he whispers, "So good,”. Dean hears it all the same.  

His whole legs tingle and thighs feel trembly as the wake of the orgasm begins to slowly subside, a feeling of relief washing over him. Cas’s hands still cradle his face, thumbs rubbing back and forth softly as the ex-angel watches him like he’s the most interesting thing in the world.  

The man who has watched the mountains move and the Red Sea part, utterly enraptured by the sight of Dean coming undone in his hands.  

Cas’s lips press softly to Dean’s, and the hunter at least can actually mostly return the kiss this time now that he isn’t helplessly moaning like earlier. Cas’s lips on his own currently feels like the most comforting feeling in the world, more comforting than anything has ever comforted him before.  

Normally, this is when it hits. 

The post-nut clarity hits, and he’d immediately be stricken with guilt and self-directed disgust. That’s what would always happen after he’d do this. He’d put the pillow back where it belonged, wash the pillowcase if necessary, and then pretend like it never happened.  

He doesn’t feel that, now. He didn’t feel it when he and Cas finished a few days ago (the first time that he’d worn panties for Cas) and he doesn’t feel it now.  

He feels good.

If anything, he feels floaty. He feels a little distant, but not in a bad way at all. Instead, he feels like all that he wants to feel is Cas.   

He’s staring into Cas’s eyes, peering deep and feeling all of the feel-good hormones coursing throughout his body as his dick continues to throb a little uncomfortably in the die-down of the mind-melting orgasm.  

Normally, he’d start to shut down immediately at the thought that he just came while Cas called him a “good girl” and watched him ride a pillow in his panties; but he doesn’t. He doesn’t shut down.  

He feels cracked open for Cas—and only Cas—to see, and it feels good.   

“You are...” Cas starts, awe in his voice as he shakes his head and keeps Dean’s face cradled in his hands, “...so, so good,” he praises.  

Dean doesn’t even fully have the energy to pull a smile, but Cas can somehow see the faint one in his eyes. He can see the adoration.

“My beautiful—” Cas presses a kiss to his forehead, “beautiful—” he presses another to his pink, bitten lips, “beautiful—” he presses one more to the tip of his nose, “—beautiful Dean,” with a beaming grin. It nearly doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore by the time he’s said it so many times.  

Dean preens shamelessly under the attention, a bashful expression on his face and a small smile tugging at his lips as he shyly averts his eyes. He assumes that Cas’s instructions don’t apply anymore. At least not right now. 

“I love you,” Cas says with pride. “So much,” he tacks on.  

Dean looks at him as if he’s the man that hung the moon.  

“L’ve you too,” the hunter mumbles, words a little slurred from sheer pleasure.  

He feels drunk from how good Cas made him feel, and Cas technically didn’t even lay a hand on him for that entire latter part (other than the hands on his face). The ex-angel's praising words felt like a warm touch, all the same. 

Dean feels spent, but all at the same time wants to keep going forever and have this be all that they do for the rest of their lives. He’s sure that Cas wouldn’t be opposed.  

“How do you feel?” Cas asks, a twinge of concern in his eyes. It’s probably at the fact that Dean looks entirely fucked-out and hasn’t even technically been fucked yet. 

Yet. Important word. Dean is not letting this be finished without having Cas inside of him first. Especially after that.  

Dean’s smile is small but gleams in his eyes as he mumbles, “R’lly good,”.  

Cas nods with a fond look in his eyes as he moves one hand from Dean's cheek to brush gently through soft brown hair, sweat having gathered along the hunter’s hairline. 

In his floaty state, Dean doesn’t fear the vulnerability of the statement as he murmurs, “R’lly liked that,” while letting his cheek lean into the palm still resting on his face.  

Cas rubs his thumb back and forth gently, looking pointedly into Dean’s eyes as he whispers, “Me too,” with an amused smile before returning his gaze to the hand brushing through sex-mussed hair from how much of a sweat Dean worked up.  

The hunter licks his lips, mouth a little dry from all of the moaning.  

“W’nna keep goin’,” he mumbles, gazing at Cas as if he’s the most captivating sight in the world.  

Cas glances to him with a glint of concern in his eyes.  

“...Are you sure?” he asks, eyebrows creased as he tries to assess if he thinks that Dean is currently even capable of making a decision for himself—especially in that regard.  

Dean nods with a soft, “Mm-hmm,”. His current lack of fear of vulnerability encourages him to add, “Want you in me,” in way that makes Cas’s eyebrows raise in amusement.  

Cas chuckles softly at his casual boldness before gently arguing, “What we just did was a lot, honey,”. His blue eyes are tender as he points out, “We don’t have to do any more if you don’t feel up for it,” while promptly ignoring his raging hard-on that currently stands loud and proud.  

“I want to,” the hunter argues back, sounding a little petulant. His voice seems a little higher in his floaty, sexed-out, Cas-drunk state.  

Girlier, both of them know.  

Chuckling softly again, Cas gently reassures, “Dean, I’m just saying that we don’t—oh,”.  

Dean’s hand promptly sneaking up and wrapping around him makes his sentence trail off into an involuntary moan, hips twitching up into the palm without thought. God, he’s hard.  

“Dean.” he warns gently, voice a little shakier as the hunter shamelessly starts to stroke him slowly.  

“I want to, Cas,” Dean repeats, purposefully making his words a little more articulated to display his cognizance despite the extra brain power that it takes to do so.  

Cas groans low in his throat when Dean thumbs lightly at his slit, near over-sensitive from how damn hard he is. 

“Dean, we—” 

“Please?” the hunter asks with a bit of a whine in his voice, looking at Cas through his lashes.  

Conflicted, but so, so, so  damn horny and only getting hornier at the look in Dean’s eyes, Cas sighs with a crease in his eyebrows before gesturing to the bed and fondly instructing, “Lay down for me, then,” as though doing it to appease Dean. They both truly know that he wants it just as badly. 

Dean smiles a little dazedly though completely victorious as he carefully crawls off of the pillow with a helping hand from the ex-angel. They’re definitely gonna need to wash that pillowcase, but he tosses it back up to the headboard for now.   

He mumbles, “I got it,” to Cas to relieve the man of helping him reposition, earning a soft, “Okay,” in response as Cas walks over to their desk.  

Dean lays himself down on the bed as he watches the ex-angel rummage through the desk drawer, shameless of the fact that he’s currently laying in stained panties and probably looks a mess. 

Lube held in hand, Cas shuts the drawer and comes back over. He makes quick work of ridding his pants and boxers in the process, having been a little too preoccupied to take off his clothes amidst all of what just occurred.  

The memory of Dean grinding on the pillow moments ago makes his cock twitch despite it being such a fresh memory, crawling onto the bed with the sprawled out hunter. Dean is smiling softly, clearly feeling incredibly blissed out after what just happened.  

“Love you,” the hunter mumbles when Cas crawls over him, feeling as if his heart is overflowing with love.  

Not only does Cas love him the way that he does, but he treats him phenomenally in and out of the bedroom. He’s never been a particularly lucky person, but Dean practically won the damn lottery with this guy.  

“I love you, too,” Cas murmurs with a fond smile, leaning down to peck his lips to the hunter’s as he sets the lube beside them.  

They get situated similarly to how they were before Sam interrupted them earlier. Dean wraps his arms a little clumsily around Cas’s bare back, bent knees parted to the side to account for Cas lying between his legs. Cas has an arm beside Dean’s head on the pillows for support, the other trailing gently up and down the side of the man’s ribcage.  

Dean’s hand sneaks down amidst some languid making out, drawing a sharp inhale through the ex-angel's nose when a palm wraps around his length again.  

“You’re so hard,” Dean whispers proudly, peering up into Cas’s eyes above his own.  

Cas cocks an eyebrow with amusement in his eyes, though his voice is a little strained from the hand stroking him slowly as he easily replies, “After the little show that you just put on, I don’t think that I could  not  be,”. 

Dean’s face flushes red all over again (though the redness from his orgasm still hadn’t quite dissipated much at all), though it isn’t embarrassment. It isn’t like those few weeks ago when Cas pulled the panties out of the bedroom drawer with accusation in his eyes. Rather, it’s soft and flustered more than anything else.  

Cas presses a kiss to his cheek with a fond murmur of, “I think that I might have to make you do that more often,”. Despite it technically being flirtatious pillow talk, Dean can tell that Cas genuinely means it.  

“Mm-hmm,” Dean hums in agreement before turning his head to catch the ex-angel's lips with his own.  

Cas indulges him for a moment before pulling back, clearly beginning to grow impatient himself.  

“Do you want to keep these on, or would you rather that I take them off of you?” the ex-angel asks gently, fingers moving to hold on the top hem of the stained panties.  

Dean hesitates for a moment as he decides, but ultimately settles on, “Off,”. Cas nods, beginning to already slide them down when he hears Dean mumble a sheepish, “They’re sticky,” and can’t help himself from chuckling softly in response.  

He leans back on his knees to more efficiently slide the panties down once they’re at the hunter's mid-thigh, pulling them off in one sweep. Dean sighs in relief once they’re off, feeling like his crotch has finally been freed.  

He opens his knees back up once the garment gets tossed over with their other dirty clothes, letting Cas crawl back into place. They’ll probably wash the panties and try to salvage them, but they won’t be as good as new.  

“What color should we get next?” Cas teases as he leans in to press a kiss to Dean’s temple.  

“Cas,” the hunter scolds lightly with an amusedly affronted tone of voice.  

As if Dean hadn’t even commented on his forwardness, the angel kisses along the side of his face and down to his neck as he mumbles between kisses, “After what you told me earlier, I’m now particularly intrigued by the thought of you in a satiny, pink pair,”.  

Dean snickers softly as Cas pulls back to be able to peer down at him, hands roaming up and down the ex-angel's back as he teases, “What, are you jealous of Rhonda now?”.

Cas laughs softly with a fond roll of his eyes, but Dean caught it. He caught that just-too-long pause before the laughter.  

“You are!” he giggles in all of his middle-aged-man glory, playfully hitting Cas lightly on the back with a limp fist.  

“I am not jealous of Rhonda,” Cas argues lightheartedly, sounding as though Dean’s silly for thinking so.  

“Yeah you are,” Dean teases, grin proud in response to Cas’s unimpressed expression.  

“I am not,” Cas refutes calmly, not giving Dean the retaliation that he’s wanting to get.  

Just to get Cas riled up—both because it’s amusing and because it’s a little hot—Dean purposefully puts on a casual tone of voice as he shrugs and murmurs under his breath, “Would be if y’knew what all we did,”.  

Cas’s face drops, and Dean’s face lights up with slyness in reaction.  

“What do you mean?” Cas asks, stern eyebrow raised.  

“Whaddya wanna know?” Dean asks slyly. His voice is still a little slurred from the extent of an orgasm he had moments ago, but is picking up clarity now that he has the thrilling feeling of the high ground.  

Cas’s face is flat, reaching over for the lube and watching Dean’s legs instinctively open a little wider in reaction once it’s in hand. 

“What did you do with her?” the ex-angel asks softly despite the obvious protectiveness bleeding into his tone, face stern but hand gentle as he runs a soothing palm along the inside of Dean’s thigh for a moment before moving on to do anything yet. 

“Other than the panties?” Dean asks slyly, reveling in the drop of Cas’s face again.  

“‘Other than the panties’?” Cas repeats flatly. It isn’t like how he normally parrots stuff to Dean; rather, it’s faux annoyed and displeased that that’s the taunting wording that Dean chose. He can tell what the hunter is trying to do, and it isn’t going to work.  

Dean’s grin remains smug as he whispers, “Cas. C’mon,”. 

“So you really did more than just the panties?” the ex-angel asks, now thoroughly intrigued though also feeling jealousy stirring hot in his chest.  

“Cas, she was kinky enough to get me to try on a pair of her panties,” Dean starts playfully. “You really think we stopped there?” he teases. 

Cas’s expression remains thoroughly unimpressed, hand moving from his inner thigh to now reach for the bottle of lube. “What all did you do with her?” he asks as though trying to appear unbothered, uncapping the lube a little clumsily with his one hand. 

Mocking the phrasing that Cas used earlier, Dean’s grin grows more sly as he whispers, “Want me to tell you my favorite parts?”. 

He hadn’t heard the click shut of the lube, suddenly gasping in startle when two slicked fingers start to rub shamelessly over his rib. 

“Go ahead, Dean. Tell me,” the ex-angel answers with a smug note to his voice despite his carefully neutral expression.  

The high ground is unclear. 

Remaining strong to his teasing, Dean breathes deeply for a moment to adjust to the sensation of Cas’s fingers rubbing against him before starting, “Well, obviously the panties were the best part,”.  

“I could’ve guessed that,” Cas says with a press of lips to Dean’s temple, making the hunter’s ears redden. “What else did you do?”. 

Dean licks his lips and whispers, “Y’want the kinky part or the kinkier part first?” with a sly grin. 

Raising an eyebrow, Cas whispers back, “You pick,” with a sassy tone to his voice and a small shrug. 

Dean smiles, gaze plotting.  

“Well, first she—” 

The hunter’s sentence gets cut off with a moan when a finger presses inside of him without warning. 

“She what, Dean?” Cas asks with a near-condescending tone to his voice despite its attempt to sound purposefully unbothered. 

His demeanor seems much like when they used to fight, though obviously bearing far more gentleness now. It makes Dean think of a version of Cas a little over a year ago, with the tendency to be far sassier and make comments like, “If I plan to anything else stupid, I’ll let you know,”.

Dean chews on his lower lip for a moment, getting his bearings as Cas slowly pumps a finger in and out of him.  

“She bent me over her knee,” he says, voice breathy but expression sly as he watches Cas’s expression stay carefully neutral. 

“Really?” Cas asks flatly as though not fully believing him, eyebrow raising.  

“Really.” 

The ex-angel pumps his finger slowly, not enough to get Dean worked up but rather just enough to make him have to resist squirming.  

“And what did she do while you were bent over her knee?” Cas asks, growing a little more jealous at the way that Dean’s cock twitches as he watches the hunter prepare to answer. Whatever he’s thinking about, it’s clearly a good memory.  

Dean leans his head up a bit, getting right into Cas’s ear to whisper, “What do you think she did?”. 

Cas sucks on his teeth with jealousy, not wasting a second before carefully sliding a second finger into the hunter. 

Dean’s back arches with a soft moan, though his smile remains. Just to taunt Cas a little extra, he adds a teasing whisper of, “Left her house with a red ass and a panty kink,” with a small snicker.  

Cas’s fingers slide in and out of him gently, though when Dean lets his head flop back down to the pillow, the expression he’s met with is clearly displeased.  

It makes him feel victorious. 

Cas raises an eyebrow, rubbing against Dean’s inner walls with every pass of fingers as he asks, “And, was that the ‘kinky’ part or the ‘kinkier’ part?” as though wholly unimpressed.  

Dean squirms at the feeling of fingers inside of him, sly expression cracking for a moment when Cas rubs particularly deep before mustering it back up to answer, “Kinky,” with a grin.  

Cas’s expression stays flat, but somehow falls flatter.

“The kinkier part was my favorite,” Dean shares. “Not that I didn’t like gettin’ spanked six ways to Sunday over a girl’s knee, though. God, that was good,” he reminisces, milking it for the sake of how it makes Cas’s fingers seem to rub more deliberately within him.  

His voice is shaky, but he knows that he’s successfully getting Cas worked up (in more ways than one) as he continues, “Was so good ‘cause I could grind against her leg while she was spankin’ me,” with a soft moan towards the tail end of the sentence at the both the memory and the sensation of Cas’s fingers.  

Dean whines quietly in the back of his throat before adding on, “Nearly came over her knee,” as though obviously very turned on when thinking back to the memory.  

The ex-angel groans softly at the thought, though Dean thinks that the sound almost seems akin to a growl.  

Just to make Cas even more jealous, he peers up into the blue eyes peering down at him as he whispers, “Makes it even better that we kept the panties on for that part,”.  

"Dean,” Cas warns, clearly not pleased. He crooks his fingers inside of the hunter, rubbing in a “come here” motion in the way that he knows makes Dean squirm. 

True to his plan, Dean’s head tosses back into the pillows with an arch of his back, legs unable to decide if they want to squeeze around either side of Cas or spread even wider.  

With a smug smile and a shaky sigh, his back arches up so that his torso presses almost to Cas’s as he whispers, “Wanna hear the kinkier part?” with obvious pleasure in his voice.  

Cas inhales and exhales deeply, expression unimpressed as he answers, “Yes,” while gently slipping a third finger in. 

Dean moans at the entrance—why does three always seem so different from two?—and gives himself a moment to adjust, peering up into Cas’s eyes with a needy look in his own. A break in smug character, but only brief.  

He laughs softly—the sound a little shaky from the feeling of three fingers rubbing in that same “come here” motion—before starting, “Well, she was a girl, y’know...” 

Cas raises an eyebrow, rubbing with more purpose and drawing a whinier moan out of the hunter.  

Dean breathes heavily for a moment, gathering his breath to be able to taunt, “...so she had a lot of toys,”. 

Cas groans low in his throat again, giving a small shake of his head with a tight jaw as he rubs his fingers repetitively in a way that makes Dean’s whole body feel hot.  

God, Cas is not going easy on him with the fingering.  

“What kind?” the ex-angel asks.  

“Thought you weren’t jealous?” Dean teases with a wavering smile as Cas rubs deep within him, out of breath as his hands clutch at the ex-angel's back.  

“I’m not,” Cas replies easily, not letting up.  

Dean aims to laugh again but a moan slips out instead, head tossing back for a moment and letting his eyes slip shut. He breathes heavily, breathless as he asks, “Then why’re you fingerin’ me like you’re tryin’ to make me come again?”. 

“Maybe I am,” the ex-angel shrugs.  

“Cas,” Dean complains immediately, a desperate and slightly incredulous look in his eyes. 

“Keep talking, Dean,” Cas instructs ruthlessly. “Tell me what you did with Rhonda’s toys,” he says as though a challenge.  

Whining with a writhe of his hips as Cas’s fingers start pumping back and forth again (mostly for the sake of the ex-angel not wanting to give his forearm a cramp), Dean has a feeling that he’s definitely lost the little amount of high ground that he’d had.  

“She had a bunch,” he pants, keeping his eyes locked on Cas’s.  

Cas leans down, nibbles at Dean’s ear for a teasing moment, and then proves his high ground with the whisper of, “What was your favorite?”.  

Dean whimpers with another squirm of his hips beneath the ex-angel before answering, “Vibrator,”. His tongue is starting to feel heavy in his mouth all over again.  

Despite his short-lived grip that he’d had on the high ground, he has lost it incredibly quickly. He truly isn’t even sure if he ever had it to begin with.  

Cas hums in satisfaction above him, own gaze growing smug as he watches Dean begin to lose his umph and fall back into the submissive state that Cas had him in before.  

“What kind of vibrator was it?” he whispers, going back to crooking his fingers and rubbing in a “come here” motion again.  

Face hot, Dean grabs a hand at the outside of Cas’s upper arm with a shaky moan, feeling muscled bicep beneath his palm as he pants. God, he’s getting close again already. 

“Tell me, Dean,” the ex-angel instructs as if he’s not the literal reason that Dean’s a little speechless right now.  

“Wand,” the hunter pants. “It was a wand, one of the girl ones,”. 

Cas nods as he holds the eye contact, recognizing the look that he sees in Dean’s eyes.  

Smiling, he leans down to the man’s ear again, rubbing slower but firm as he whispers, “Did you keep the panties on for that part, too?”. 

A moan punches out of Dean, back arching and hips attempting to roll into the sensation as he nods fervently. The ex-angel hums in satisfaction again at his response, clearly pleased at the sight of the hunter losing himself to the pleasure all over again. 

“Did she use the vibrator over or under the satin?” Cas asks with a tease in his tone, voice a little strained but mostly steady—a stark contrast to Dean.  

With a small whine, Dean answers, “Over,”. 

“Oh,” Cas says with pleased understanding as he nods, eyes locked onto Dean’s as he goes back to pumping his fingers back and forth and drawing a squirm out of the hunter. “That’s the way that you like it, isn’t it?” Cas teases, though his tone obviously reveals that he already knows the answer. 

Breathing heavily, Dean chews on his lip as he nods.  

Cas goes back to crooking his fingers, drawing a loud moan out of Dean with an arch of the man’s back and a toss of his head back.  

Smiling to himself, Cas whispers, “Look at me, Dean,” in instruction.  

The hunter brings his chin back down and opens his eyes, face mere inches from Cas’s own. 

Rubbing deep within him, Cas’s voice is low and gravelly and knowing as he whispers, “Did you make a mess in her panties, too?”.  

His grin grows as he watches Dean shudder, torso contracting before his back arches back out and legs spread a little wider. “I bet you did,” he whispers a little condescendingly with pride in his expression as he watches the hunter squirm.  

Dean nods eagerly, breathless.  

“What about this, Dean...” he starts to ask, voice confident as he whispers, “...did she make you feel good on her fingers like I do?”. 

Dean shakes his head just as eagerly, panting as he stares up into Cas’s eyes with desperation in his own. He needs Cas in him now or else he’s literally going to wind up coming a second time and he really doesn’t think that he could go for a third.  

“No. She didn’t,” Cas agrees with pride in his voice. He leans down to nose at the side of Dean’s face, the skin hot to the touch from racing arousal despite having already gotten release once. 

Just to drive Dean a little more wild, he gets right up to his ear and crooks his fingers just right as he whispers, “She can’t make my pretty girl feel good like I can,”. 

Dean moans at that. Whiny; girly.   

“Can she?” Cas asks just to hammer it in when he pulls back to look at Dean; green eyes looking up to him like he has all of the power in the world. 

Shaking his head, Dean pants, “No,” with that glazed-over look of submission in his gaze.  

“No. She can’t,” Cas agrees proudly just like he’d done a moment ago, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead as he finally, finally withdraws his fingers. 

Dean moans weakly when the fingers are gone, clenching around nothing despite knowing that the feeling is fleeting. He lets his eyes slip shut for a moment as Cas leans back on his knees to get the lube and slick himself up, simply reveling in the blissful feeling of floatiness settling heavy in his brain. 

Cas shifts on his knees a bit, hand on Dean’s thigh and the other on himself. Dean cracks his eyes open to look down his body at Cas, being met with a far fonder gaze than the ex-angel had a few moments ago.  

“Still feel good?” Cas asks gently as he begins to slowly rub himself back and forth overtop the hunter's wet rim.  

Dean has a little bit of whiplash from the way that Cas is acting like he wasn’t just acting all jealous and possessive over him, but nods anyway. He wants the ex-angel inside of him yesterday. He’s sick of being patient.  

“Please,” he whispers in a beg, desperation obvious in his tone and in his eyes. 

“Shh, I know,” Cas murmurs soothingly, leaning over to peck a gentle kiss to the hunter’s lips. 

Despite now falling back into his typical gentle demeanor, Cas does give one last kick of the whole jealous-possessive streak. 

He presses a kiss to Dean’s cheek before whispering, “Do you know what else Rhonda couldn’t do?”. 

Face inches from Cas’s own, Dean shakes his head with that dazed look in his eyes. 

After a final press of lips to Dean's own, Cas murmurs, “This,”. 

Dean whines and grabs at the sheet when the head begins to slowly press into him—a feeling that has grown familiar for them, by this point.  

Cas groans in satisfaction, leaning back on his knees again to watch as he guides himself inside the hunter. Dean’s incredibly well prepared by this point, so Cas doesn’t have to take as much time to slide in as he normally would. 

Truly, he doesn’t have the patience, either. 

Dean whimpers quietly until Cas is flush to the hilt, leaning over Dean as he had been before and feeling the hunter’s ankles come up to link behind his back like they often do.  

“I love you,” Cas whispers gently with a press of his lips to Dean’s, earning a breathless, “Love you,” in response.  

Cas slowly—too slowly for Dean’s liking, at this point—draws his hips back, pulling a soft noise of pleasure out of the both of them. He presses back in just as slowly, pushing deep within Dean and drawing a breathy whine of, “Cas,” from the hunter’s lips. 

“I know,” he soothes, shaking his head as though to will away how uncomfortably desperate Dean is growing by this point even after having already had release. 

They both know that this probably won’t be lasting long at this point—for either of them.  

Cas repeats the motion, drawing a low groan out of his throat. “Feels so good, Dean," he praises genuinely with a strained voice in pleasure, drawing a whimper out of the hunter. 

“Go faster,” Dean begs quietly, voice whiny—girly—and looking in near tears from how badly his body is craving Cas. If Cas tells him to be patient, he might explode—whether in tears or frustration, he isn’t sure. 

Cas revels in being in control like this; being in protection of Dean. The hunter is desperate, and yet trusts Cas to get him where he needs to be. He trusts that Cas will take care of him; and take care of him, Cas will.   

The ex-angel obediently picks up the pace a little bit, pressing a kiss to his cheek with a soft whisper of, “Whatever you need,”. Despite the utter kinkiness that has occurred thus far, Cas is nothing if not gentle. 

In truth, the ex-angel can likely tell that Dean's already begun to fall off the edge into that needy, floaty headspace that Cas seems to always be able to sex him into. He’d fallen into it with his first orgasm but then crawled his way back out when he’d thought he’d had the high ground, though now feels like he’s crashing back down into it twice as hard as the first time. 

It's not a bad feeling, though it likely would be in the hands of the wrong person. Of course it’s not bad with Cas, though. With Cas, he can let himself go and give himself over to the pleasure, and that’s what Cas wants him to do. Cas is safe.

Dean moans softly but helplessly as the ex-angel thrusts in and out of him and sets up a steady rhythm, knowing that they’re both more at the point of chasing release rather than wanting to drag things out any longer.  

Cas brings a hand up to cradle Dean's cheek, keeping his forearm beside the hunter's head for support.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he praises as he fucks into him, eyes bearing adoration. “Do you know that?” he asks, voice extra gentle and words extra loving in reaction to the fragile state that Dean evidently is falling into. 

Tongue feeling heavy in his mouth and brain feeling a little post-verbal by this point, Dean nods a few times instead of verbally responding.  

A thin sheen of tears coats over his eyes, though it is not borne of anything other than sheer pleasure.  

There was a time a few weeks ago that the tears would have been borne of something bad. There was a time a few weeks ago that Cas called him pretty in bed, and it rendered him having a complete breakdown in the ex-angel's arms.  

And, now, look what strides they’ve made just since then. Despite the kinkiness and the quite literal dominant/submissive situation that they’ve (mostly) unintentionally gotten into today, there is no denying that it would not be possible if it were not for the healing that has occurred since Cas initially found those baby-blue panties in the drawer.  

“L’ve you,” Dean mumbles when he can get a break for breath between his mindless noises of pleasure, keeping his teary green eyes locked onto blue. 

Cas coos softly, stroking his thumb back and forth on his cheek. He groans low in his throat at the pleasure and heat of being within Dean before he whispers, “I love you too, honey,”. He leans down to press a kiss to the hunter’s forehead, tender despite the lewd actions happening further down their bodies.  

“I love you so much,” Cas emphasizes softly, rolling his hips with purpose as he tries to work both of them up to the edge. Dean is kinda just laying there at this point with arms and legs wrapped around him, but Cas truly doesn’t blame him. The hunter is already incredibly spent after everything they’ve done. 

He strokes his thumb on Dean’s cheek and brushes away occasional tears, peering down into green eyes as he whispers, “Pretty girl,” with an incredibly fond look in his own.  

Dean whines softly at the comment, eyebrows creased in pleasure and eyelids fluttering. The ex-angel can feel the man clench around him in involuntary reaction to the words.  

“Do you like when I say that?” Cas whispers fondly, though very obviously already knows the answer.  

It’s simply easier to help Dean understand that these things are okay when he’s already in this vulnerable, floaty state of mind. If he can get to Dean’s brain like this, it’s like reaching the very core of the problem in order to handle it; like going to the main area of operation and manually rerouting the system himself.  

The hunter nods softly, panting and whimpering through reddened, parted lips. 

“I like saying it,” Cas says with a fond smile, voice a little strained. “Because it’s true,” he adds, watching Dean’s back arch up a little bit. 

He thrusts a little harder, though can’t quite get himself to not. He’s losing control over himself just as much as Dean is.  

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, earning a whiny, wanton, undeniably girly moan as the man’s back arches harder. 

Dean moans brokenly, sound cracking in the middle with a grind of hips. 

“There you go, honey,” Cas praises gently, knowing that he’s coaxing the hunter up to the edge. It’s taking everything in him to get Dean there first.   

He rocks his hips steadily, the sound obscene and the movement strong but the atmosphere loving. 

Dean’s whole rear end is literally wet from a mix of lube and still a little bit of Cas’s saliva, and Cas’s hips keeping hitting him with every thrust but he feels so good and so full and everything is just Cas around him and— 

“Cas,” Dean begs whinily, squirming and trying to wrap his legs and arms even tighter around Cas like a koala clinging to a branch. 

“Come on, sweetie,” Cas coaxes.  

“Sweetie” isn’t always his main choice of pet-name for Dean...but, right now, he thinks that something softer and slightly more feminine by connotation—girlier—might be more of what the hunter needs in this moment.  

Dean moans with desperation in his tone despite the soft, weak sound of it, back arching involuntarily. 

Cas moves the forearm that was beside Dean’s head to instead scooch to be in a similar-ish position but with his palm cupped behind the hunter’s head, making him able to press Dean’s forehead to his shoulder so that Dean doesn’t have to do as much of the work doing it himself.  

The hunter clings desperately, whining softly as his hips give tiny, minute rocks into Cas’s thrusts.  

Cas gently moves the hand that was holding Dean’s hip to instead wrap around the hunter’s cock, trying to coax him faster towards the impending orgasm before he himself loses it.  

Dean’s still mostly soft at this point, and understandably so. Despite having it in him to come again (even if a little dry), their middle-aged refractory periods can’t replenish to full hardness that quickly. Cas mainly rubs his thumb feather-light over his tip around his slit, gently giving a tiny bit of stimulation to get Dean over the edge quicker. 

Dean, at the distant thought that Cas again is practically treating it like a clit rather than the  very  male body parts that he has, moans weakly and strained with an arch of his back. He clings to Cas tighter, but he knows that he’s nearing the edge despite how scary the quickly hurtling pleasure feels.  

He knows that Cas will keep him safe, all the same.  

Hips beginning to falter, the ex-angel holds himself together as he encourages, “Come on, Dean,” a little desperately. “Come for me, sweetie,” he encourages with a beg in his tone, voice slightly strained. 

A few more deep, hard thrusts despite not being very fast at all finally render Dean moaning whinily and pressing his forehead even closer to Cas’s shoulder, full body shuddering as his cock spurts out what little that it has been able to muster up since his last orgasm. 

Cas praises him with a proud, “Good, Dean,” until his own hips are snapping taut shortly afterward, unable to restrain himself any longer and practically winding up coming with Dean from the lack of time between their peaks. He’s been pent up for long enough that Dean simply squeezing tight around him is enough to send him careening over the edge that he’s been holding back from so dutifully.  

He groans shamelessly as he drops his forehead down towards the pillow, keeping his hand pressing Dean’s own forehead to his shoulder as his hips twitch with every pulse of release inside of Dean.  

Dean whimpers and moans weakly as his orgasm begins to subside, feeling Cas still spilling within him as the ex-angel groans in his ear. He feels so, so delightfully blissed out, even more-so from the hormones spiking amidst the climax.  

Cas’s breaths are ragged, body going limp against Dean’s as he slowly lowers his weight down on top of the hunter. He lets Dean’s head gently lean back down to the pillows, though keeps his hand cradled behind soft brown hair.  

After laying and simply breathing for whoever knows how long, Dean feels Cas plant a kiss to his temple, another to his cheek, and another to his cheek a little further inward on his face.  

Moaning weakly when Cas pulls out of him with a soft, “Sorry,” at the discomfort it causes, the hunter squirms a bit despite how simultaneously heavy and floaty his body currently feels.  

He watches the ex-angel lift up a bit, leaning up enough so that they can be face to face. He feels Cas wipe a few stray tears, lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, and then pull back. He sees the glint of concern in his eyes despite how beautifully fucked-out the ex-angel looks above him.  

“Are you alright?” Cas whispers gently, brushing along Dean’s sweaty hairline to resituate some of the hairs. 

I love him, Dean thinks fondly as nods with a slow blink. He inhales and exhales deeply, core feeling sore as if he just did an ab workout.  

“Are you sure?” Cas asks just as gently. After Dean nods again in answer, the ex-takes a moment to search his face with his eyes before he observes with concern light in his tone, “You’re very quiet,”. 

Dean licks his dry lips, having to take a second to force his brain to work so that he can mumble a near-incoherent, “F’l good,”. 

Cas furrows his eyebrows, concern not looking relieved whatsoever as he asks, “Hmm?”. 

Dean swallows hard, licking his lips again and blinking some of the blurriness out of his eyes as he more carefully articulates, “I feel good,”. 

Cas raises an amused eyebrow despite the concern still a little evident in his gaze, fondly parroting, “You feel good?”. This time, he’s parroting in more of a gentle manner, not as teasing as he’d been doing before. 

Dean nods with a tiny smile tugging at his lips, adding on a slightly slurred mumble of, “R’lly good,”.  

Cas chuckles softly in a way that sounds more like an simple exhale through his nose, leaning down to peck another kiss to his forehead as he whispers, “Well, I’m glad, then,”.  

When he leans back and simply continues carding his hand through the man’s hair, he takes a minute to just look and  savor  before he whispers an incredibly fond, “You look like you’re about to fall asleep,”.  

“Feel like I’m bout’a fall asleep,” the hunter mumbles with a small laugh, looking a mix of exhausted, blissed out, and a little drunk. A beat of peaceful silence passes before he murmurs, “Love you,”.  

Cas’s soft smile somehow grows fonder as he returns, “I love you, too,”. He watches Dean’s slow, peaceful blinks before gently praising, "You’re so wonderful. Do you know that?”. 

The hunter nods softly before mumbling, “You too,” while peering at Cas again as if he hung the moon. 

Cas does that soft, quiet-huff-through-his-nose laugh again before gently getting off of Dean and beginning to shift their position. He rolls to his back so that he can pull Dean into his side, the hunter following without question as he curls up close and lays his cheek on Cas’s chest.  

They probably need to shower anyway, so he’s not worried about the fact that he’s still got a little bit of stuff on his stomach from what little his body could muster up amidst the second orgasm. Not to mention that he’s sure there's probably some of Cas’s release dripping out of him at this point.  

Clean-up can happen later. Post-coital cuddling is happening now, and it’s arguably both of their favorite parts. 

“I am very, very  grateful that you trust me to make you feel good,” the ex-angel whispers once they’re situated.  

Dean nods softly, listening to the quiet *thu-dum* *thu-dum* of Cas’s heartbeat beneath his ear. He scooches a little closer even despite already basically being as close as possible, having a nearly overwhelming amount of love whirling in his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with.  

“I love that you let me try new things with you and explore different ways to make both of us feel good,” the ex-angel murmurs, chest rumbling beneath Dean’s ear. 

The sound is so comforting and so  Cas  that Dean has a brief moment where he fears that he’s gonna cry. His hormones are scattered all over the place right now, and the floaty feeling of being protected is still present in his brain despite it very slowly beginning to dwindle away. 

“I greatly enjoyed that,” Cas says, and Dean can hear the smile in his voice. “I know that you did too...” the ex-angel teases lightheartedly with a rub of his hand over Dean’s back and press of lips to the crown of his head, drawing a soft chuckle out of the hunter, “...but I am extremely proud of you for letting us try that,”.  

Cas presses another kiss to his head before leaning his cheek on Dean’s head, gently murmuring, “I love getting to take care of you,”. 

Dean, while still feeling 99% dazed, mumbles, “You take good care’a me,” in a voice that sounds hardly awake.  

Cas coos softly, rubbing his hand up and down the hunter’s back to soothe out some of the residual full-body trembles.  

A few moments of peaceful silence pass, to the extent that Cas isn’t entirely sure that Dean isn’t falling asleep, though then hears the quiet mumble, “I liked that,”. 

“Yeah?” Cas asks gently with pride in his voice, tipping his chin down to try and get a look at the hunter’s face.  

“Yeah,” Dean murmurs softly, tilting his head up enough to see Cas’s face in return.  

Cas cards his hand through the soft brown hairs, quietly praising, “You were...very good,” as if it’s the only way that he knows how to put his pride for Dean into words.  

Dean watches Cas’s smile go a little sly as the ex-angel adds on, “Well, up until you began being a bit of a brat midway through, but then you got your act together,” with a fully lighthearted tone of voice.  

“You liked it,” Dean quips back smugly. It’s not a question, because they both know the answer. “And you were jealous of Rhonda, by the way,” the hunter mumbles with a fond grin despite his tired voice.  

Sighing fondly, Cas finally relents, “Yes. I was,” with a small smile.  

“Knew it.” 

Cas shakes his head with amusement bleeding into the fondness of his expression, though his eyes grow sly when he whispers, “Maybe to make up for it, we just need to do everything that you and Rhonda did,”.  

Dean’s face grows a bit red, though his voice is thoroughly amused as he mumbles, “Everything?” with raised eyebrows. 

“Everything.” 

“You’re a freak,” the hunter insults lightheartedly as if he wasn’t just the one grinding on a pillow in a pair of women’s panties a short while ago, earning a fond eyeroll from the ex-angel.  

Dean readjusts his cheek against Cas’s chest back to the position they’d been in before, the ex-angel's cheek moving back to rest atop his head. 

“...I really liked that pair,” the hunter mumbles sadly after a few moments with a wistful voice.  

“I did too,” Cas murmurs. “We’ll go to the store and buy more,”. 

Dean snickers softly, listening to Cas’s heartbeat and feeling the man’s voice rumble in the chest beneath his cheek.  

He can hear the smile in Cas’s voice when the ex-angel teases, “I’m thinking pink... maybe something satiny...” 

“Shuddup,” the hunter says fondly with a small, flustered smile to himself.  

“Maybe while we’re at the store getting new panties, we can also get some other items as well,” Cas suggests softly with a smile still in his voice. 

Dean thinks of the toys that he’d mentioned to Cas when he’d been telling him about Rhonda, feeling his face grow very hot all over again.  

“...Maybe some batteries,” the ex-angel whispers in addition with a teasing tone of voice. 

Despite being completely and utterly on board, Dean snickers softly before derailing the flirtatious conversation with a soft, “Quit the pillow-talk and let me go to sleep,”.  

“We still need to shower, Dean. It’s not even dinner time yet,” Cas reminds with a small laugh.  

“Sleep.” 

“Dean. There is literally still dried semen on our stomachs,” the ex-angel reminds with a slightly sterner voice despite the obvious amusement.  

If Dean were more awake than he’s currently feeling, he’d probably tease Cas for the formal tone of voice. Some things never change.  

“You seriously don’t want to shower first?” the ex-angel asks.  

Dean shakes his head, burrowing a little closer into Cas’s hold. “Sleep,” he responds simply with a small smile in his own voice. He’s too comfortable—too safe—to get up.  

“Fine,” Cas sighs fondly, gently readjusting the blankets over he and Dean and making sure that the hunter is warm and covered.  

“Love you,” Dean mumbles, snuggling a bit closer. “I love you, too,” Cas murmurs fondly, pressing a kiss to the crown of the hunter’s head. 

They drift off quickly, both a little exhausted (though Dean certainly more-so) from the intimate events of the evening. The baby-blue panties are left on their pile of discarded clothing, forgotten.  

It’s no big deal though. They’ll buy more.

Upon falling asleep whilst wrapped up in the safety of one another's arms, both men—predictably—are met with delightful dreams of delicate pink satin.