Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Seriously? You said we're going for a 'nice dinner.'"

Gabriel hops out of the Uber, "C'mon Cassie, it is nice!"

"This is nothing more than a den of iniquity."

"No," now Gabe's at Castiel's door, "it's that plus dinner and a show."

Even as Castiel balked again, Balthazar chimes in, "This is happening, Cas."

"Yeah! We're gonna get you outta this funk. Sulky Cas is no fine," his ever pushy cousin tugs Castiel up.

Bristling at the comment, Castiel frowns, "I don't sulk."

Dammit, both cousins roll their eyes. Resigned, he follows them into the… establishment.

The host smiles brightly, no doubt well-trained. "Welcome to Cowboyz! Bar, table or booth?"

Balthazar smirks, always has an eye for perky blondes, "Wherever gives us the best view of the show."

"I've got just the table! Follow me."

"Just lovely," Balthazar doesn't even attempt to show decorum, blatantly ogling the hostess, "Tell me, Alfie, will we be seeing you in the ring?"

Rolling his eyes so hard that he caught a glimpse of his own brain, Castiel tunes out the lecherous commentary. They're quickly seated directly next to the low barricades circling the mechanical bull. Which of course has his cousins proudly sharing ridiculous accounts of their personal experiences here. Of all places… well, at least the music isn't bad, country rock pouring over the speakers.

Focusing on the grain of the wooden tabletop, he tries damn hard to not look around. Castiel Novak does not ogle.

"Hey boys, I'm Dean. I'll be taking care of you tonight."

The husky voice is absolutely gorgeous and has Castiel turning. Eyes landing on bare thighs topped with very short denim cutoffs, his eyes travel right up. Dear Lord, this man is gorgeous. Tall and well-muscled, golden flesh covers this beauty. Defined abs are visible below the tight red tank top, thick arms flex as he sets glasses of water on the table. Perfect cupid's bow lips are pink over gleaming teeth. Lightly golden brown hair perfectly spiky and rakish. But his eyes are the very best part; mossy green with flecks of gold, so captivating that Castiel drowns in them when they land on his own.

"And extra good care of you, Blue," the beauty winked right at him as he holds out menus.

"Exactly what Cassie needs, Dean-o!" 

Blushing at Gabriel's ability to so easily embarrass him, Castiel tears himself away from his trance. Taking the menu, he quickly ducks and hides behind it.

"Can I get y'all started with drinks?"

That bastard does it again, quipping out, "Looks like you can without." Castiel could slap him. "But yeah, we'll all have beers and angel here will have an Easy Rider."

Fucking hell.

But Dean just rolls with it, "Gotchu," and then strolls away. Oh, fuck… the man's legs are beautifully bowed, just right for riding… fuck.

"Well, would you look at that," Balthazar sounds intrigued, "It would seem something has finally caught Cassie's eye."

"See? I knew there was something still working in him," Gabriel is simply irritating.

Castiel groans, "Why do you keep saying that? You know I date. I went on one not three weeks ago."

Gabriel shoots, "Yeah, and you were bored the entire time and stared at the wall more than the guy."

"You were spying on me? Seriously, I have no privacy."

"At my restaurant!"

"Which is the first point," Balthazar intervenes, "If you had any interest or intention to do more than a first date, you wouldn't have gone to Gabe's place."

Knowing he can't fight that logic, Castiel just huffs and looks away. His eyes roam the servers, quickly slipping over the incorrect forms. Realizing that he's looking for Dean, he reigns himself in. And he suddenly senses the man at his side, that bare midriff so very close Castiel can feel Dean's body heat. 

"Here ya go," sliding over the mugs, then sets a glass in front of Castiel, "and something special for you. Figured a big guy like you could handle a double."

Tongue slipping over the drool pooling in Castiel's mouth, he blurts out, "I'm sure I can manage."

"Atta boy. Y'all ready to order?

He hears his cousins speaking, but it's drowned out by Castiel's own heartbeat. He can't look away from the smooth expanse of that taut belly. When Dean shifts on his feet, his abs curl and Castiel's fingers itch to just touch. Then Dean's hip bumps his shoulder and Castiel's brain must fight the mutiny arising in his fingers, all ten of them rebelling with the craving for that warm skin.

"What about you, Cassie?"

Startled back to the moment, Castiel stares blankly at Dean for a moment as his brain was victorious in quelling the uprising, but rather slow getting back to its day job. "My name is Castiel."

"Hiya Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

Something happens in that moment, a sensation that is entirely new and yet incredibly familiar. The exhausted brain just shrugs, unsure what's happening, tapping the Try Again Later button. 

Ever willing to finagle his way into something, Gabriel pipes in, "It's Cassie's birthday."

"Then you're in for a helluva treat, Blue."

Cheeks flushing with a range of emotions, he glares at his cousin, "It is not my birthday."

"I promise not to tell," holy hell, the beauty winks conspiratorially, "So, what do you want?"

"Uh," he scrambles for a second, "I'll have the special."

"Oh, you've already got me, hot stuff," that drawl tingles from Castiel's ears straight to his cock. "How do you like your meat?

"Rare," another slup. There are some serious OSHA violations occurring, Castiel's tongue can't be expected to function correctly in a flood. His brain could have at least put out a Caution Floors Are Wet cone or two.

"Now you're just flirting. Soup or salad?"

"Salad."

"What do you want it tossed in?"

"What do you recommend?"

"Mmm, the house Texas Gold. It's sweet as honey but has enough spice to tingle your tongue."

"That." And that was the last attempt said-tongue makes at speaking, checking out for some desperately needed PTO.

"Coming right up," and the cowboy spins on his booted heels and swaggers away.

Gabriel is gaping as he blindly reaches to the side, running hands over Balthazar's face, "Balty, is this real? Are you real? Did that just happen?"

"I can't be sure, perhaps we're both hallucinating? I thought I just saw Mr. Cassie the Robot flirting."

"Me, too! Unless there's acid in our water, it must've happened. Cpusin, that was kinda hot."

"You're ridiculous, both of you."

"Nope, we're just stupefied," Balthazar smirks. "It has been years since we've seen it."

Feeling defensive now, "Well, I was in a committed relationship for a long time so there was no need to flirt."

"See, that's where you're wrong," Gabriel piles on, "If you had really been into Inias, you'd have never stopped flirting. Doesn't go away with status, ol boy. Hell, me n' Kali are always d–."

"Yes, yes, Gabe, we have all had to stomach your pornographic version of flirting."

"Don't hate what you can't replicate, Balty, " and the two launch into a quibble, which is their natural state of being. 

Ignoring the antics, Castiel downs half the shot, the alcohol inspiring his tongue to come back. That confused muscle agrees, but demands another drink as backpay. Brain agrees, telling half of the traitorous fingers to raise the glass again.

While the internal racketeering was occuring, his eyes went freelance, dancing around the room. They trail a plush ass as the stunning man makes his rounds. Oh, he's certainly not the only one, damn near everyone in the saloon watches as Dean's hips roll. When the beauty catches him watching, Castiel's brain is so startled at the heat he feels that it forgets to tell eyes to look away. Nope, he just stares right back, cocooned in the intensity, feeling a glowing warmth course through his veins. 

Then Dean blew him a kiss. Castiel's veins immediately directed all blood flow directly to his cock. 

That smile just amps up, blindingly gorgeous, eyes so knowing. Castiel quickly turns away, wrapping a hand around the mug, allowing the chill and beading condensation to center him. It's impossible to keep up with the chitchat between the other guys, he can't focus.

A platter is slid in front of him, that faint drawl tickling his ears, "Careful, hot stuff." And that golden body stretched right in front of Castiel, inches away as Dean sets the other dishes down. Then a stack of sticky notes and a pencil offered to Castiel.

"So, Dean, our little cousin has never been here before. Think you could give him the ___

"Oh yeah, you're in for a real treat tonight. In just a few minutes we've got a fun game. Who Rode it Best. All 12 of us Cowboyz take a turn on, see who lasts longest on Taurus over there," the stunning man nods to the mechanical bull. Everyone gets to vote, just put the name of your favorite. Six with the highest votes move to Round 2, same thing with the top three. You gotta pick who you think was the Bucking Best," this last part was said with full eye contact and a flirty smile that pierced Castiel's heart.

Needing to say something, Castiel fills in with, "Are there incentives for… participants?"

A flash of tongue over those perfect imprints and, "Champ's choice. Never know, Blue, the winner might just split the pot. Y'all want another round?"

The men nod, Castiel just grabs his mug and takes several long draws of the draft. He waits a whole four seconds after Dean walked away before turning to stare at his unworldly body. He knows because he was counting and couldn't make it to five. Watching the man move behind the bar counter, he nearly chokes on his beer when the golden beauty playfully bumps into the burly bartender. It's none of Castiel's business, there's absolutely no reason or right for him to feel the sudden flood of jealousy. But it's there, tinging the edges of his vision red, his nostrils flaring as he heaves a deep breath. 

Shoving the ridiculous thoughts into the corner, Castiel forces himself to calm. By the time Dean returns withore drinks, Castiel is almost calm. Halfway. Maybe one third. Fuck it all, he's riled up and there's no denying it to himself. He can't even force himself to touch his food just yet.

"Now this, Cas, is something just for you. Been dying to whip up a new cocktail, just needed some yummy inspiration," he holds one out for Castiel, their fingers brushing and sparking as the glass trades hands. Dean drops gracefully onto the fourth chair, leaning back nonchalantly, "Cheers."

They clink glasses, eyes locked as they both sip on the colorful liquids, an ombre of bright blue melding with bright green.

"Mmm," Castiel murmurs in appreciation. "This is delicious."

"Yeah? Thanks, gorgeous. What should we name it?"

There is no response from Castiel's brain, but his tongue tries to provide a response on its own… the poor thing. "Uh, Blue-Green?"

Oh, he forgot about the peanut gallery sitting beside him. Gabriel is still snickering when he swats at Castiel's shoulder, "Gotta excuse him, Dean. Mr. Robot here has nerves of steel, but he's a bit rusty right now."

Flustered and annoyed, he arches a brow at his ridiculous cousin, "The majority of my time is spent not talking, Gabriel. So yes, my 'people skills' might be a little 'rusty.'"

His cousins snicker again, but Dean's laugh is just about the sexiest sound he's ever heard, and Castiel knows music.

"That was adorable, big guy, and that Dom brow, wow. So, if you're not talking all day, how do you communicate?"

Drawn to the warmth that is Dean's attention, Castiel straightens his spine, firming his shoulders, "I'm a composer for the Philharmonic Orchestra."

Oh, the way Dean's verdant eyes glow is unreal, "Here in Denver?"

"Yes."

"Mmm, with hands like these, bet you're real good on the piano."

That ravenous beast Castiel has kept locked away stirs again, fighting the shackles. "I am rather dexterous."

"Yeah, I can only imagine. Yet." Dean rises to his grand height, snagging the empty glasses, "I'll check up ya again in a few minutes."

Narrowly avoiding a comment that would be incredibly inappropriate, Castiel bites his own tongue and focuses on his meal. It's incredibly difficult. Even though the food was quite good, everything pales without the glow Dean's presence brings. Move fork. Chew. Swallow. Comment on the latest bickering between his cousins. Take a sip. Repeat. 

He feels Dean approaching, prepares himself to act like an adult and stay composed. Ha. But he readily accepts another Blue-Green as Dean slides onto the extra chair.

"Thank you, Dean."

"You can thank me later, stud. Did you pick a name yet?"

Shit. Think, man, think! "Destiel." Fucking hell.

"Oh, I like it! Bottoms up," they cheer and take sips. For all that's holy in this world, Dean let out a small moan, quiet enough to not be heard more than a foot away in this noisy saloon, but unmistakable. "We taste good, Cas."

There was a moment where Castiel had to vigorously clamp down on every muscle in his body, all he wanted to do was taste this man, to touch him. While he was busy with that, the beast sniffs the air and fills in with, "Yes, we do."

That smile stretched even wider now, the beauty's voice gruff and perfect, "Atta boy. So, you guys all set for a bit?" At their nods, Dean grins, "Awesome. Game's about to start so I'll be busy for a bit. You need anything, just flag down Benny over there," pointing towards the burly man working the bar. 

Balthazar must antagonize, it's in his very nature, "Meaning you expect to last riding that bull?"

A return of beautiful laughter raises goosebumps, "I've got stamina."

Now the beast emerges again, a smirk popping up, "You sound confident."

Dean leans close, his mouth hovering at Castiel's ear, "Very. Could even call me cocky ." Oh, Castiel's eyes blaze, fingers clenching to remain still. Doubly so when Dean hums and arches back, long body bowing gloriously, "Enjoy the show."

Seeing nearly every other patron in the restaurant locked onto the group of ridiculously attractive and severely underdressed men, Castiel finally feels no shame in gawking at Dean. A voice over the speakers announces the first Rider, but Castiel has eyes only for the golden man. His cousins provide enough commentary to cover his silence, they shout and clap and hoot as the participants took their turns.

Then Dean swaggers over and dear Lord, the man has a black resistol hat now. Swinging a beautifully curved leg over the behemoth, even more of Dean's thighs are exposed as the barely-there shorts rise even higher. The bull gets moving and holy hell, he's gorgeous in the saddle, spine arching into his plush ass, abs rolling as his tank top rides up. Dean's grinning right at Castiel as he keeps one hand on the pommel, the other on his hat. Dean can ride .

This time Castiel's cheering, quite possibly louder than anyone else. His whistle was certainly loud enough to have the closest patrons wincing and glaring at him. Fuck them, Dean deserves all the praise. The bull finally stops its twirling, the tall man sliding to his booted feet and giving a dramatic bow, which has Castiel grinning. He follows Dean's path as the man strolls through a door towards the kitchen.

The host, Alfie, comes around to collect the votes. Castiel has the ridiculous urge to write Dean's name on every sticky note in the stack… wow, he's just tripping up. Huh. He's still contemplating his overwhelming urges when he sees Balthazar weaving his way to the bar. Ah, sure enough, his cousin downs several shots while flirting with the bartender. 

"Still grumpy about coming here, Cassie?"

Stifling the impulse to roll his eyes, Castiel  just shrugs, "I'm certainly entertained."

"Ha!" Gabriel just laughs, grabbing at Castiel's nearly untouched plate, "Pretty boy's all but throwing himself at your feet.*

Unsure how to respond, Castiel just clears his throat and watches as Round 2 begins. It's entirely possible that he didn't blink once when Dean took his turn. To miss even a moment of the stunning eroticism that is Dean would be a mortal sin. Said-eyes nearly vacate the premises and permanently attach to Dean when the man outlasts the machine, swinging off and using the hem of his shirt to wipe at the sweat on his face. Oh, the definition of those abs would shame the Statue of David!

Quickly scrawling Dean's name on another note, he stares at it. The simple motion of writing those four letters has his heart thudding, it's intense and wonderful. 

The final round is here and Castiel barely notices Gabriel slipping away to join Balthazar at the bar. He has eyes for only one person here. He hears the shouts as the first two finalists land on the mat. He feels the boldness when Dean glances over his shoulder and winks right at Castiel. Fuck.

Dean's legs clamp around the wide bulk, the roped muscles in his arm bulging as he holds himself steady. During a particularly wild spin, the man slips a bit in the saddle, but he doesn't fall. No, something so much better, his shorts gape at the back, revealing the faintest tease of a red thong. 

Oh sure, now Castiel's brain wakes from its nap and focuses on that tiny hint of red, a deluge of images flitting through his mind. Fuck, he desperately wants to catch that fabric with his teeth and chew his way around…

The man is laughing as he spins, rocking right into the bucking motions. The strength in that insanely gorgeous body has Castiel's brain adding more kindling to the furnace, imagining those legs wrapped around his waist, that taut stomach flat against his own, one hand knotting in Castiel's hair as the cowboy rides him into the sunset. 

Thankfully, his tongue has been tricked into working again, happily doing its part with another loud whistle. Dean's grinning wide as the bull slows to a stop, just leaning back in the saddle, both arms stretched over his head, shirt riding up. Raising his head, his eyes flash as he flings his hat like a frisbee, right into Castiel's hand.

Something hums through Castiel's blood, his inner beast taking this treasure and demanding more . He soothes his suddenly dry tongue with a long draw of his water. Startled when his cousins both wander back and flop into their seats, he's flustered at his own reactions. Excusing himself, he sets the soft felt hat on his seat and makes his way to the restroom. 

Several splashes of cool water calm the outermost flush, but fuck he's heated. When he feels a modicum of calm and his cock has agreed to stay where it belongs, he grabs paper towels and pats his face dry. 

The door swings open, a whistle, then, "There you are. I was afraid you ran away."

That purring voice undoes all the calm Castiel had just enforced, scattering his nerves like he just chugged an energy drink and been stabbed with a vial of adrenaline.

His beast takes over, "Hardly."

That drew a chuckle from the golden man, the beauty turning to lean a hip against the counter, crossing his ankles. "What'd you think of the show?"

He growls out, "That was the singular most captivating thing I've ever had the pleasure to witness."

"Well, shit," now Dean's cheeks pinkens, his freckles glowing that much brighter. "That's a helluva sweet compliment."

"It's simply an honest observation," unable to completely subdue the urge to touch, Castiel balls up the paper towel and clenches a fist around it.

"Fuck, Cas, your voice is the hottest sound I've ever heard," there's a small gasp, then Dean continues. "Lips that pretty, of course you've got that super-dom growly thing."

"Mmm, I beg to differ, you easily surpass anyone I've ever seen."

Another quick flash of tongue wetting the cowboy's lips, a flirty smile rising again, "Prove it."

Control is gone, Castiel moves, crowding Dean with an arm on either side, hands on the counter. Their chests are pressed close, Dean's legs between Castiel's. He hovers just over Dean's mouth, relishing the hot puffs he feels against his skin. 

There's a faint whimper, the sound going from Dean's throat directly to Castiel's cock, fueling the long-starved beast. 

"Tell me, Dean."

Another gasp as the man squirms, a gruff whisper of, "Kiss me, Cas."

Oh, even the beast wants to savor this, pressing lips to the corner of Dean's mouth, tongue flicking out to follow the line. Reaching the other corner, he's awash in the flavor of Dean . Leather and grass and whiskey, he's intoxicating.

"Again, please," the ask is perfect.

Castiel dives in, spreading the cupids bow with his tongue, seeking out more Dean . He feels the moan as it rises from the beauty, Castiel swallows it right down. When he sucks on Dean's tongue, he feels strong hands in his hair, tugging him closer. The man is a whirlwind of motion now, grasping and pulling, arching against Castiel, mouth plundering Castiel's, beautiful moans fogging the air.

Peppering his face with kisses, Castiel works his way to Dean's ear, flicking along the shell before trailing lower. Dragging his teeth across the warm throat, Castiel can taste the faintest saltiness, the remnants of the sweat built from riding that bull like something out of a dream. Latching lips around Dean's Adam's apple, he sucks. The groan that wracks Dean's body could harden a dead man's cock. Castiel happens to be very much alive, and his cock is straining against his chinos for release. Canting his hips just once, he meets the unmistakable hardness of Dean's arousal, both of them gasping. 

But it also brings a wave of clarity, Castiel grabbing back the reins. With a final kiss against the trembling lips, he takes a small step back, allowing the incredible heat from their inferno to slowly dissipate. 

The words must be said, "You are absolutely delicious."

"Cas, I…" Dean rubs at his cheeks, then fanning himself, "I can't describe what just happened."

Neither can Castiel, he just stares into Dean's emeralds for a long minute. Cursing in his mind, he scoops more cool water and splashes his heated cheeks. The shocking temperature change does the trick, also calming his cock at the same time. From his peripheral, he can see the outline of Dean's cock beneath those skimpy shorts… three more cold splashes and direct orders to his eyes to not look over. Not yet.

Another minute passes as they both settle. Then another lovely whisper, "Think I really like you, Cas."

Oh, he knows this is a dangerous path, but there's something profound here. "Same." He should say something else, but the door swings open and another person stumbles to a stall. Meeting Dean's eyes one last time, Castiel purposefully moves his feet. The walk back to the table is a blur, along with whatever his cousins are grabbing about. All he can think about is that brief and life-changing crescendo in the restroom.

A sharp kick to his shin has Castiel narrowing his eyes on Gabriel, "What?"

"Seriously? I asked you the same thing four time!"

"Ugh," he rubs his eyes, "Okay, what?"

"Balty's trashed," nodding to their cousin who is… sigh, he's nodding off while trying to raise a glass of whiskey. "Gonna take him home."

Disappointment floods his body, but before Castiel can say anything, Dean's there.

"Nope, can't let this hottie go just yet. We're gonna split the prize, since Big Blue here helped me win."

A choked laugh pops out, "I did nothing, Dean."

"Yeah ya did. Gave me something to stare at," long fingers trail down his shoulder for a second, "how I kept my balance."

"Staaaaaay, Cassie," Balthazar slurs and nearly spills his whiskey, only saved by Castiel lunging forward and grabbing the glass. 

"What Sloppy Joe here said. The night is young ever for an old guy like you," Gabriel is ever smarmy. "Check's paid. Our Uber's here. C'mon, Balty."

But the drunken man stumbles trying to reach for Castiel, "Meant it, cousin, you should b-b–" a loud burp has Castiel cringing, "be happy. Sulking is for p-pez-pheasants! Novaks don't do it. Can somebody please get me a drink?"

Rolling his eyes at the absurdity, as if they were still in college and getting hammered was all too common, Castiel mutters, "Good night." The smaller man props up the wobbly one, making their way to the door.

"Your family seems cool."

Swinging his eyes to the cowboy standing yet closer, Castiel swallows the sound that's trying to rattle up from his chest. "Ah, thank you. They're… something."

With a laugh, Dean shakes his head for a moment, then, "So, I'm off in a couple minutes. Lemme buy you a drink then?"

There's no questioning his response, it's absolute, "Yes."

"Atta boy. Sit tight." Dean easily hefts the full tray and struts back to the kitchen.

A grin is tugging at Castiel's cheeks, the attention from Dean touched his very soul. Fiddling with his lukewarm bear, he concentrates on the background music, something he usually finds soothing. When Dean makes final rounds to his section, Castiel blatantly watches. Every reach and stretch, each time he pops a hip, or smiles or laughs, every breath Dean takes, Castiel sees. He never wants to stop looking, disappointment flaring when Dean disappears into a backroom.

But when he emerges, it's like the Sun has risen in the sky, stunning. Castiel thanks the star itself when he sees that Dean's still wearing his work attire; never has skimpy clothing been so devastatingly attractive.

Dropping a backpack on a chair, Dean holds up a finger, one minute , and struts to the bar. Returning with several glasses, he sets them down before shoving the table back several inches. And then a long leg is crossing over Castiel, Dean sliding right down onto his lap. Body already humming, he knows his eyes are wide and intense, Castiel's digging trenches into his own palms to stay still. 

Dean doesn't offer any mercy, just pressing his barely clothed body closer. That insane belly arches against Castiel as the cowboy reaches behind him. Holding up a glass of Destiel, it's now topped with a thick layer of whipped cream and a candle. Lighting it, Dean meets Castiel's eyes with a beautiful smile and a wiggle of eyebrows. "Guess it really is your lucky day."

"Dean, I told you it's not my birthday."

"Didn't say birth day, hot stuff. Said lucky ." For all that's holy, the man squirms on Castiel's lap, "Blow out your candle, babe."

Castiel doesn't look away from Dean, he puffs out once, extinguishing the tiny candle. He barely breathes as Dean tosses the candle behind him, dipping a finger into the fluffy cream, "Try?"

Lips parting, he moans when Dean slides the lathered digit across his tongue. 

That husky voice cracks faintly, "Good?"

Not growling, but also not not growling, the beast manages two words "The best."

"Hell yeah," Dean's eyes are half-closed, body humming with some incredible energy. "Gonna share?"

Swirling a finger through the cream, he trails the tip across Dean's bottom lip, captivated by the erotic vision on his lap. When Dean's tongue flicks out to lick across his lips, a groan does escape, Castiel's cock twitching with need. And Dean just slowly rocks against him. Needing to see more, Castiel recoats his finger, wiping it across his own tongue before slipping it between Dean's parted lips. 

They take turns working through the excessive amount of whipped cream, not that Castiel's complaining. Hell no! Even his whiplashed brain is onboard with this decadence. Reaching the actual drink, he offers Dean the first sip, then takes his. He sputters on the liquid when Dean takes Castiel's other hand and places it on his hip, sliding it around the bare flesh.

"Wanna feel you, Cas. Get those gorgeous hands on me, touch me, lemme touch you," oh this man is bold and beautiful and perfect. 

"I will happily do everything you consent to," sure, it sounds formal, but consent is sexy

"Oh, Blue, I want everything with you," long arms loop behind Castiel's neck, tugging him up for a filthy and incredible kiss.

Taking the permission, Castiel's hand trails to Dean's back, sliding up his curved  spine, down his lean waist. Emboldened by the beast within, one finger runs along the waistline of Dean's shorts, dipping below and tracing the soft fabric he knows is hidden beneath. 

"I must admit, I've been incredibly distracted by this ," fingertip curling under the string and giving the lightest tug, "The things I've imagined."

A wanton moan cascades against Castiel's throat, Dean's lips so close, "Wanna show you, stud."

The admission has Castiel's other hand cupping the plush ass, drawing them closer together. But a deep drawl interrupts their wanton exploration.

"Winchester, you're always good for drink sales. But you gotta take your guy and hoof it."

Seeing the big bartender smirking at them, Castiel nearly blushes at the realization of others watching them. But… he kinda likes it. Fuck. 

Thankfully Dean handles the response, as Castiel's tongue is currently reassessing its entire life.

Sniffing regally, Dean pouts and it's just the cutest thing, "No appreciation, Benny. I won tonight, I wanna enjoy my prize," another nibble on Castiel's lip.

" Cher , you know I never mind watching you, but not here."

"Rude, dude."

"Don't gimme that sass, boy. You're getting everyone riled up. Now, I know I don't wanna have to bash any heads tonight, and I'm betting this pretty thing has something better to do than deal with drunks grabbing at your ass."

Ah, the man has a point. 

Dean grumbles now, "Yeah, fine. G'night, man."

"I'm sure it will be," the barkeep laughs and winks at Castiel before heading to the bar.

The moment Dean uncurls and stands, Castiwl wants to drag him back, to savor that warmth. But they must go… where?

Dean takes lead, slinging his backpack over one shoulder and grabbing Castiel's hand. Once out the door, they both breathe deeply, taking in the summer night's air, "My place?"

Oh, he would follow this magnificent creature anywhere! Might as well say it, his brain gives the nod to growl out, "Anywhere."

Whirling around, Dean grabs his chin and pulls him for a bitey kiss, "Fuck, you're intense! Okay, I'm two blocks over, mind a walk?"

"Dean, start moving or I'm throwing you over my shoulder."

"Hell yeah, so feisty! You're gonna be all kinds of fun, ain't ya?"

They walk quickly. Well, Castiel does. Dean is pure swagger, drawing the eyes of everyone they pass. For some reason, that goes straight to Castiel's ego and id, thoroughly enjoying how much attention this stunning man draws. 

Stopping in front of an art studio, Dean unlocks the door, resets the alarm and leads up the stairs. Castiel bites his tongue twice as he watches the firm ass shift beneath the swatches of denim, strong legs flexing with each step. There's a rumbling sound, which takes several seconds to realize is coming from himself. Fuck.

Sliding open a large metal door, they're in a loft. High ceilings, lots of windows letting in the glowing lights of the city, the space is huge and beautiful. But there are better things to do than admire decor. Instead, he admires Dean's drool-worthy body as he follows to a bedroom. 

Flinging his backpack onto the floor, Dean faces Castiel as he kicks off his boots. "You're wearing way too much, hot stuff. I wanna see you."

Oh, the beast likes that, pushing the words right out, "Undress me, Dean."

An audible gasp strokes the beast's belly, relishing how Dean gets right to it. Castiel's tee-shirt is peeled up and off,  golden fingers run down Castiel's tawny chest, kneading over the dense muscle he's secretly quite proud of. Hands moving lower, his belt and fly are quickly undone, Dean flushing as his eyes flit up and down. But he bucks up, tugging Castiel's pants down, crouching to remove the loafers. Those same marvelous hands trail up over his calves, the back of his thighs, circling the hems of Castiel's boxer briefs for a moment, then across his hips.

"You're gorgeous, Cas."

That compliment settles deep within Castiel's soul, finding permanent residency.  "My turn."

Dean drops his head back and takes several deep breaths, flushed and beautiful. Then those long arms lift straight up over his head. 

Growling at the submission, Castiel makes quick work of the tight top, replacing it with his mouth. Suckling across a sharp collarbone, then around a pert nipple, he tastes and feels and breathes Dean . 

Unbuttoning Dean's tiny shorts, Castiel lingers, waiting for Dean to open his eyes and meet his gaze. The heated stare is locked in place, Castiel slides the shorts down, holding Dean's hand to step out of them. Finally allowing himself to look, his groan is absolutely debased.

Oh, the red panties are lace and stretched right over Dean's bulging cock. The thin strings wrap around powerful hips. Circling the man he craves, Castiel's fingers drag along the lines, moaning when he sees them meet together and form a vee just above that golden ass. Cheeks so round and firm, just begging to be worshipped and taken apart and marked up.

Stepping closer, pressing his clothes cock against that thick cake, Castiel's body dearest unity, limbs offering obedience do long as he keeps touching this deity. He agrees to the terms, snapping his hips tight against Dean.

"So perfect, Dean, you take my breath away."

"Fuck, babe, wanna take everything you've got," followed by a yelp when Castiel nips sharply at his neck. "Please, Cas."

With a rising growl, he circles and shoves Dean onto the bed, immediately crawling over him, pressing their bodies flush. Dean's knees are up and squeezed around his waist already, hands roaming. Castiel dives into that gasping mouth, he can't stop tasting. Again working his way down, this time using his teeth to memorize the density of each trembling muscle, while his fingers search out every possible sensitive spot. One pass across Dean's lower ribs and the man shouts, bringing intense satisfaction to Castiel, replacing his fingers with his lips just to hear that incredible sound again.

"Oh, the noises you make, baby, fire to my blood," Castiel takes on the holiest of missions, bringing Dean pleasure. "I'm going to make you scream."

"Yes yesyesyes! Want that, need you!"

Dean remains just as vocal, each whimper and moan and gasp creating an utter symphony.  When Castiel mouths across his cock, soaking the lace around the throbbing length, Dean wails, hands knotting into Castiel's hair.

"Oh my God, your mouth! More, Cas," the rest trails into deep moans as Castiel nuzzles his way down to his balls, suckling against the fabric. 

With the beauty writhing beneath him, Castiel tortures them both by taking his sweet time rolling the panties down. His mouth covers every inch of exposed skin, laving with his tongue, nipping now and then for the sheer want of it. Finally bare, he shudders as he gets an eyeful, "You have a beautiful cock, Dean. I need a taste," and he takes a mouthful. Working the long, perfectly curved cock down his throat, eager to take and offer pleasure, to be full of that distinct flavor that he'll never grow tired of. Hollowing his cheeks, he draws him deeper.

"Suck my cock, babe, oh fuck," the vocal prompts fan the beasts flames. Castiel takes off, throwing himself down over this delicious piece of Dean. Taking him too deep to even gag, Castiel forces his throat to behave, to obey, to spread for Dean. Humming in anticipation of this beauty pouring hot cum down h– But he's suddenly yanked back by his hair, a snarl erupting.

"Nuh uh, big boy. First time, we're doing this right. I'm not cumming until you're buried in me."

Now Castiel's panting, eyes wild as he refocuses. Following Dean's gesture, he opens the bedside stand, finding lube and a whole lot of toys. Yes, every part of Castiel's body and soul shiver for a moment before a grin spreads. That grin turns sharp and wicked, eyes roaming his near-lover. 

"Deal. But soon enough, I'm going to spread you open with every toy you have and drain you."

Dean's cock jumps at that, another lovely drop of cum oozing a path down his cock. Castiel watches closely as he coats his fingers in lube. Kneeling between the perfectly bowed legs, nudging Dean's thighs up and out, he's not touching the tasty cock, just watching. lapping at Dean's ass, wetting a path, nudging his tongue past the tight rim until the golden cowboy shouts and drags him up again, whimpering as he trembles.

His fingers rub right over the furled hole, watching the whole body tremor, the clear bead joined by a second, slowly traveling lower. Rubbing and teasing Dean's ass for a minute, he's hypnotized by the sounds and motions, finally slipping one finger in and right back out.

Dean groans, "You're a freaking tease! C'mon, feel me."

Castiel repeats the motion, quickly adding a second finger to curl with the hot channel. Eyes locked onto the drips, he taps against Dean's prostate, rewarded with a shout, the beauty's hips bucking and those drops have now merged, fueled by a thin stream leaking from Dean's slit. Twisting, spreading, stroking, rubbing that sweet spot, Castiel's dexterity has the shiny wetness reaching Dean's balls. Finally!

Adding a third finger at the same time he drops to catch that nectar, his tongue following the path all the way back up to the head of Dean's cock. Lapping at the fat top, his fingers spread and tease, his other hand rubbing across Dean's coiled abs.

There's that inspiring sound, Dean's neck arched back as he wails. Every fiber of Castiel hums in glee, determined to keep Dean completely stimulated. When Dean's begging nonsensically, Castiel offers a momentary break. Just long enough to shimmy out of his underwear and slick up his own cock.

But now Dean's eyes are huge, staring at his with an open and oh so inviting mouth, "Cas, baby, you're a fucking beast!"

Sliding over him, Castiel nips at his lips, growling, "You have no idea." And presses his cock against the soft entrance, working himself in further with each thrust. It's like fucking into quicksand where each grain is a burst of bliss; hot, wet, snug around Castiel's cock, sucking.him.deeper.inside this heavenly body. "Oh, your ass is amazing, so soft!"

His eyes cross when Dean wraps those bowed legs over his thighs and pull, drawing him deeper inside the cowboy. Fuck, Dean lifts his hips to meet each thrust, spreading and taking and working them both into a frenzy. Buried fully, Castiel's certain he could live inside this ass, he has never felt anything so perfect. Finding Dean's lips, he chews on the bottom one as their dance picks up tempo. Nearly his whole length rubs across Dean's sweet spot on every other thrust, drawing decadent noises, so insync with one another. 

When Dean shouts loud and grabs his cock after a particularly deep plundering, squeezing right around the base, Castiel's grin returns, "Almost got you, didn't I?"

"You bastard, fuck!" Dean surges up, rolling them over. He rises to his knees, dropping his ass right over Castiel's cock, moaning out, "Yesssssss! Oh, I need this so bad, need to ride you, Cas."

Grasping Dean's hips, he growls, "Move."

Dean takes off, hips rolling, thighs lifting, hands rubbing across his own body, eyes closing and head dipping, "So good, you fill me up so good."

The eroticism of Dean riding that mechanical bull has nothing on this. Every movement is exquisite, a work of art seared into Castiel's memory. But he knows Dean can get louder. 

Tilting Dean's hips back, Castiel bucks into the perfect heat, flat-out nailing his prostate. When Dean shouts and stutters, trembling, Castiel growls, "There you go, baby, my cock loves your sweet spot."

Grabbing for his cock, Dean's shaking as he staves off another near-flood. Oh, but his face is just so beautiful like this, drowning in sensation, trying desperately to hold on. Castiel wants to drag him right over the edge. The beast agrees.

Dragging Dean's hand to his mouth, he kisses along the knuckles for a minute, then moves it to Dean's chest. "Touch yourself, Dean, while I fuck your sweet ass and stroke your beautiful cock."

Wrapping a large hand around Dean's cock, slicked by the leaking cum, Castiel squeezes and twists in opposite rhythm of his own cock. It throws Dean off-balance, overwhelming him even as the beauty plays with his own nipple, reaching behind him to brace an arm on Castiel's thigh. Pumping into the perfect ass, Castiel won't last much longer, can't keep up with sheer perfection.

Absorbing every single motion, eyes glued to his lover, Castiel is close. Pinning Dean's hips down with one hand, he batters at just the right angle to have them both soaring. A scream shatters the air, Dean arching back as his orgasm takes over. His cock throbs, spraying ribbons of hot cum across Castiel's chest and belly, wetting his hand so the squelch is pure music. The beauty's ass clenches so tight, dragging Castiel right over with him.

Castiel's vision whites out, he sees stars as he gives final pumps into the volcanic heat surrounding his cock. There is no comparison, this is utopia, paradise, heaven.

When Dean sags against Cas' chest, his cum smeared between them, Castiel groans. Needing the taste, he draws his own shaking hand to his mouth, lapping at the spilled cum. Nothing could possibly taste better than this, better than Dean's hot cum on his fingers. Opening his eyes after the last finger is clean, he finds Dean's half-closed eyes on him.

"Cas… words are hard."

A breathless chuckle rises as he lets Dean's hair, holding him close, "Very."

Several minutes later, Dean pushes himself up, lifting off of Castiel's cock with a moan. He only gets as far as rolling to his side, which conveniently means he's curled around Castiel's side, head on his shoulder. 

The cowboy traces circles on Castiel's chest as they both calm down. "Hey?"

"Hmm?"

"We're gonna have breakfast in bed."

Smiling broadly, Castiel knows it's his goofy gummy grin , but he's just damn happy. "Sounds perfect."

"You're kinda awesome, Cas."

"And you're perfect, sweetheart."

Minutes later, they're both asleep. Sweaty, sticky, perfect.