Fantasies Are Alright
The motel room Castiel dropped into from the ether was empty, the warding against angels on Dean and Sam's ribs doing their work. It looked like the right place, the brothers' familiar duffels beside their beds, a flannel shirt draped over the back of a chair, a couple empty beer bottles on the table.Cas sat down on Dean's bed, resigned to waiting for as long as it took for the brothers to come back. It wasn't anything urgent anyway, otherwise he'd called. Ignoring the irritatingly gnawing thought that he could have simply called anyway, Castiel didn't look at the thought and his reasons very closely. The unfamiliar, indescribable and urgent need to see Dean face to face pumping through his grace with a force he’d never felt before.He looked around, his thoughts coming to a halt when he saw the open door to the bathroom, the floor wet, informing him that someone had been taking a shower not long ago.The image of Dean standing under the spray came forth into his mind’s eye instantly; The time when Castiel had flown in, clearly at an inopportune moment, when he'd heard Dean's pleas and begging, and found him lost in the intimate act of masturbating. Dean breathlessly whispering Cas's name while twisting his wrist just so, the grimace on Dean's face one of pleasure. Teeth gritted, forced to keep quiet.Cas had left the moment he understood what he was witnessing, before Dean noticed him, but it felt like that moment was branded into Cas's everything ever since. He simply couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't control his body and the urges coming with the hardening of his cock. So far he'd abstained, the feelings so alien to him he was nervous to find out what would happen if he acted on them.He licked his lips nervously, trying to chase the thought away, but it was pounding, incessant - how Dean had looked like in the midst of his intense pleasure, face turned up, throat bared, teeth grinding, water sluicing down his chest.Castiel had wanted to trail it with his tongue.He shifted on his seat, growing hard in his slacks at the mere idea of being able to do that, to touch Dean like that, to be the one to bring Dean that kind of pleasure. What would it be like? Cas got up and shed his trench coat, quickly folding it haphazardly on the bed. He'd made up his mind. He was going to do it, and he probably didn't have much time, so he kept on the rest of his clothes, in case he was interrupted. Nudity wasn't required for this. Cautiously, Cas sat further back, lifting his legs to rest on the bed, leaning against the wall. Castiel pressed his head against it, licking his suddenly dry lips nervously, his hands feeling like they trembled.What if he had Dean on this bed, naked, willing to be touched, for Cas to worship, Dean's arousal caused by Castiel? Have him here liike he had been in the shower, tense, so close to something Cas had never experienced, his whispers silently calling Cas's name between gasps.Castiel's cock throbbed as he let the thought become clearer; how Dean would groan and buck under his touch, if Cas took that hardness in hand.Cas still had time to back off. He didn't have to do this. He'd gone without this long.But the memory of Dean's flushed chest, how his eyes had been shut tight against the pleasure, rose to the forefront of his mind again, and suddenly the need to get some pressure on his cock was excruciating.Cas pressed the heel of his hand against the bulge in his slacks, his eyes closing, lashes fluttering against the dull ache of a ghost of pleasure he hadn't expected. It certainly wasn't enough, but using Dean as fodder for this, for something that was described as self pollution, onania - Was he defiling Dean with his fantasies, his urges and the utterly debauched, delicious feeling of depravity that came from picturing himself with Dean?Suddenly, the idea of just willing it away felt like he was only deceiving himself. If Dean was allowed, If Dean was welcome to use Castiel for his fantasies, wasn't it only fair that Cas was permitted to do the same to Dean? Dean's lust had been almost palpable, and Castiel had been the power behind it. Surely Dean would be willing to be that power for Cas?And it wasn't like Dean would ever know.Bolstered by the thought, Cas unhooked the clasp of his slacks, deft, yet trembling, and unzipped himself, thick, long fingers digging to find his heated, hard flesh through the opening of his boxers.He drew his cock out, fisting himself loosely around the tip for the first time, his mouth open with a groan at the tentative touch. Cas slid his thumb over the slit, his thigh tensing and sheer electricity coiling into the pit of his stomach.It wasn't much of a relief, really, the sparks skittering over his skin more an irritant accelerating his need. He tightened his hold, moving his hand down experimentally, his other large hand coming down to curl around his balls on instinct, his mind finding the memory of Dean again, his focus on Dean's hand stripping his cock with a tight fist, his face contorted and beautiful, mind completely gone in his hedonism.Cas let out another sigh and began to stroke faster with intent, taking a page out of Dean's book, his hips coming off the bed to meet his hand, spreading his legs as wide as the restriction of his slacks allowed. Those precious few seconds he'd seen Dean's hand on his tumescent cock before Cas had fled in sharp focus in the center of Cas's heated mind, the sight of it playing back over and over again relentlessly, making Cas's back curve off the bed, his breath erratic and his movements jagged and eager, his body fruitlessly searching for a connection with another body. Dean's.What if he hadn't fled? What if he'd joined Dean in the shower? Genuflected, and helped Dean to completion?Cas couldn't stop the harsh long moan from escaping his throat, his head pressed tight against the wall, tendons on his neck straining as he clenched his teeth together, thoughts flooding in wild, a curling fire roiling in his stomach as he imagined himself getting on his knees. Greedily drinking in the approval on Dean's face, taking him in mouth, lips stretching around the hot, satin covered iron of Dean's cock, tasting him, Cas looking up to find Dean staring at him slack jawed, enraptured.Cas's cock twitched hard in his hold, and he could feel his grace dancing, rejoicing along his spine, all along his body, right to his fingertips, while the fantasy took a new shape, how Dean fed him his cock, past Cas's lips, the weight of Dean's cock on his tongue, the girth pressing the corners of Cas's mouth, how Dean's fingers curved into Cas's hair, fingers rubbing restlessly, a tug, a fair warning--Cas felt his balls tighten, fingers pushing past them to his taint and pressing down hard. His muscles flexing all over his body in rhythm of his cock throbbing, swelling and driving Cas insane. And Cas came sharply, almost painfully, with helpless animalistic moans and grunts, the results of his self-indulgence spilling over his hand, cum spurting onto his shirt in long forceful stripes, leaving white, wet splotches to his tie. With heaving breaths, Castiel was fucking his fist shallowly through the aftershocks, dragging out every last drop of this self induced, blissful gratification.He slumped against the wall, breathing hard, blinking his eyes open as if seeing the world for the first time, giddy with sexual delectation. Now he could certainly understand the appeal of this activity.His cock softened in his hand, and Cas tucked himself away gingerly. With some irrational, grumpy disappointment, he realized he'd have to wait to do this again. Human bodies had refraction times after all. Not that he'd have the time right now anyway. But there were going to be other times.He swallowed hard, dry throat clicking as he headed to the bathroom to clean himself up.A brief flash of something akin to shame flashed in his chest, the impurity of his actions trying to claw at him, but it dissolved as quickly when he realized he'd done nothing wrong. He hadn't blamed Dean for thinking about him, surely Dean wouldn't blame him for this.And of course he wouldn't.Because Dean would never find out.A key turned in the lock of the front door when Castiel had just finished trying to clean his cum off his shirt with a wad of wet toilet paper, managing to get the shirt and tie damp and decorated with tiny white paper balls clinging tight to the fabric.Cas turned to look towards Dean and Sam, hands frozen to place when he met Dean's eyes.“What happened to you, man?” Dean grinned, checking Cas from head to toe and tossing a bloody machete on the table.“I just... I. I Spilled something...” Castiel tried very hard not to blush. ***
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