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Dean tells Sam he needs to take a walk. Go get coffee. Whatever. He doesn’t have to fake being pissed off that Castiel brought that Uriel asshat with him. He’s not even sure why the whole thing made him so angry—it’s not the first time he and Sammy had to prevent thousands from death. The way Castiel stood up to him, with that deep and rough voice, had an effect on him.
He had to bite his lip to keep from gasping.
Dean doesn’t really know why he’s felt this pull to Castiel. It’s probably because Castiel literally put him back together. He’s had his hands on the very essence of Dean’s soul. The intimacy of the act permeates Dean’s mind every time he sees the angel. He can’t imagine being any closer to another being. So Dean tells Sam he needs to take a walk. What he doesn’t tell him is that he is going to pray. Dean ends up behind a diner in an alleyway when Castiel answers his prayer.
“Dean.”
Fuck. He’s so turned on that this time biting his lip doesn’t work. He gasps. “Castiel.”
Castiel tilts his head. “Dean, are you ill? Your face is red, it would indicate…”
“I’m…I’m fine Cas.” Dean takes a slow breath, careful not to make it look as deep as it is. “I needed to see you.”
“What for? Have you and Sam changed your minds? Are you leaving the area?”
This time Dean licks his lips and looks down. Rub your chin, he tells himself. He does. “Ah, no. I mean what the hell Cas? Just what kind of expert is that Uriel guy?”
“Uriel is an angel of the Lord.”
“I know that, jeez, just tell me again.” Dean knows he’s pushing it.
“Tell you what?” Castiel is obviously annoyed that he is unable to understand what Dean is requesting and it’s hot. Everything about what is happening right now is hot and Dean can’t take it anymore.
“Tell me to obey you.”
“You ask for me to command you?”
“Tell me to obey you, Cas. Please.” The ‘please’ comes out almost as a moan. Dean is so hard that the pressure of his jeans against his body hurts.
“You and Sam need to leave town. Samhain cannot be released. Dean, you must obey me.”
Dean wants to kiss Castiel, wants to feel every inch of his body against his own. Instead, he nods. He fucking nods. “I’ll talk to Sam, maybe I can talk him out of it.”
“See that you do,” Castiel replies before flying away.
Dean unbuckles his belt and jeans and thrusts his hand into his pants, grabbing himself and pulling fast and hard. After only a few strokes his legs start to shake and he puts his free hand against the wet, cold brick. He imagines Cas pulling his hair, biting his neck, thrusting into him hard. Dean pulls a few more times and comes—hard—spilling half onto his shoes and half onto the bricks in front of him.
He’s tingling all over his body, his heart is thumping and eyes watering. He’s a mix of shame and confusion and lust and wanting. He doesn’t want to think about the whole gay thing—gay doesn’t even matter in this—and he doesn’t want to think about the fact that he wants to bone an angel. He just wants to want. Dean loves the feeling of wanting another being in such a carnal way. It’s almost something that can be tasted on the back of his tongue and its better than any burger or pie.
Once he stops seeing starts and can walk straight, Dean makes sure to grab 2 coffees from the diner before walking back to the motel.