Chapter Text
Castiel has always been very observant. He has spent literally millennia watching humans. However, until he Fell and became human, he didn't fully understand the finer nuances of reactions, especially those relating to physiological stimuli.
When he was an angel, Dean Winchester was his favorite subject to study. Other humans were interesting, sometimes, but Dean was different. Castiel figured that might be because he had rebuilt Dean after rescuing him from Hell. He would never be close to another human the way he was with Dean.
They had a Profound Bond, but that was a knife that cut both ways. When Dean threw newly human Castiel out into the world, helpless and so very alone, he experienced an emotional pain deeper than anything he could have imagined. Dean explained his reasons, eventually, and tried to maintain a tentative friendship during his exile. Even so, that didn't erase the damage done.
Castiel would always love Dean, would always protect him before any other human, but part of him wanted to see Dean suffer. Maybe pettiness was a carryover from his human days. He was also growing weary of Dean denying and taking for granted their obvious connection. Maybe it was time to give Dean a little push.
~~~
The first time when he was an angel, Castiel had often been confused by the way that Dean sometimes got physically uncomfortable around him. It was difficult for the angel to discern triggers. They could be at a diner or mid-battle or just doing research in the library, and suddenly Dean wouldn't be able to sit still. He'd get flustered and sometimes angry. It was odd.
As an angel who had merely studied humans, it didn't make a lot of sense. Since he didn't need to sleep, he'd ponder these strange fits while the hunters slept. Sam didn't seem to have these odd reactions. Maybe something had gone wrong when he put Dean back together.
For example, when Castiel had a hot chocolate with whipped cream at a diner one morning, Dean kept staring at Castiel and seemed sweaty and anxious, nearly tripping over his own feet as he rushed from the booth. Castiel had been careful to lick any stray whipped cream from his lips, so as not to embarrass the brothers by being messy, so that couldn't have been it. When Dean returned from the bathroom, he smelled subtly different. Castiel had tried to ask what happened, but he just got a nervous chuckle and quick subject change from Sam, and grumpy silence from Dean.
Sometimes Dean would have a similar reaction during hunts, especially if Castiel had to smite something or pull out his angel blade. Dean's posture would change, he'd be sweating or breathing heavier than what the situation called for, and sometimes Castiel would notice a hint of that strange, yet not entirely unappealing, tangy scent in the air. Dean would usually then struggle to form logical, complete sentences and then he'd storm off. When Castiel would look to Sam for an explanation he'd usually get a shrug, sometimes with an almost pitying look.
The most recent time this happened, they were in the library researching a case. Dean passed out beers, and Castiel had been drinking considerably slower than Dean. Slow enough that condensation was forming on the bottle and he kept idly wiping it away while trying to find something useful in the dense text in front of him. The book wasn’t useful, so Castiel’s attention kept getting drawn to Dean, as he didn’t seem to be able to find a comfortable position. Castiel had looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and in reply Dean told him that he was wasting beer if he was letting it sit so long that it was “getting the goddamn table wet!” So Castiel sighed, tipped back his head, and drank the bottle in a rapid series of swallows. He asked Dean if he was satisfied and Dean just made a small noise, almost like he was in pain, and said he was going to bed, voice a bit rougher than usual, as he once again stormed off.
~~~
But that was then. Remote then, back when Castiel had only ever been an angel. Once he Fell and became human he began to experience human physiological reactions. Annoying and overwhelming as they were, some of the previous incidents slowly shifted into a new light. When he first saw Dean at the Gas-N-Sip, in addition to the hurt and anger, he had also felt flushed and sweaty for reasons he didn’t entirely understand.
A few weeks later, the final puzzle piece shifted into place. He had finally saved enough money for a shitty motel room, and for the first time felt safe enough to fall into a deep sleep. Towards morning he was having a particularly vivid dream about Dean washing the Impala. He was out in the sunshine and without a shirt. His muscles stretched and flexed as the sun warmed his freckled skin. In the dream, Castiel could still see his handprint seared into Dean’s flesh. Dream Dean smiled warmly at him, and Castiel jolted awake just in time to feel himself grinding his shockingly hard penis against the mattress. He couldn’t seem to stop rolling his hips down and he gasped in surprise and pleasure as thick, white fluid pumped out of him, smearing across his belly and soaking the sheets. As he struggled to make sense of what had happened and catch his breath, he realized that he recognized the scent that hung heavy in the air. Arousal and release. The realization from this new data sent shockwaves through his system. Dean, apparently, was very turned on by Castiel .
~~~
Now, Castiel has some of his powers back. Although not as strong as he once was, he’s certainly more than human. And while he’s fully aware he should be using his energy to fight whatever’s trying to destroy the world this week, he’s retained a bit of humanity and fully intends to indulge in a bit of pettiness first.
~~~
“Popsicles? Since when do we buy popsicles?” Dean asks, unpacking the groceries that Sam just brought in.
“Since Cas put them on the shopping list,” he replies.
“Since when do you eat popsicles? Or any food for that matter?” Dean asks, accusation coloring his tone.
Castiel briefly debates a flutter of eyelashes, but immediately writes that off as overkill and settles for a shrug instead.
“I liked them when I was a human. I’m curious to see if I still do.”
“You spent your human time eating popsicles ?” Dean pops the “p”, just to be a dick.
Castiel just barely bites back a knee-jerk reply of “No, I focused nearly all of my energy of just trying to keep myself alive, as I had no money, food, shelter, or fucking idea how to exist as a human.” and decides to go with “Well no, but I did enjoy slushies from the Gas-N-Sip. However those can’t be stored well in the bunker so I thought this would be close enough.”
Sam must have picked up on the tension. “Lay off, Dean. If he wants to try popsicles, he can. Let’s not make things harder for him than they already are.”
Dean snaps his mouth shut and flushes with shame. Castiel feels a small bit of victory at that.
~~~
A few days later Dean is outside washing and waxing the Impala. It isn’t nearly warm enough for him to be topless like in Castiel’s dream, but it is warm enough that it isn’t entirely absurd for him to take a popsicle outside while bringing Dean a beer. Castiel is getting tired of waiting, but also wants to maintain the plausible deniability of angelic innocence. Dean thanks him for the beer, and after taking a long swallow goes back to his task. Castiel sits down on a nearby tree stump and waits, quietly watching Dean and noting that his own not entirely human body is still capable of at least some human functions. He no longer needs to eat, but he is pleased to feel a wave of arousal wash through his body as he watches Dean work.
Once Dean is on the other side of the Impala, facing Castiel, it’s time for action. Not looking at Dean, he unwraps the treat and gives it a tentative taste. He is relieved to find that he isn’t repulsed by flavor. He’ll have to remember to thank Sam for getting the organic, 100% juice ones, he’s not sure he would have been as successful with entirely artificial flavors. However, in trying to time out his plan, the popsicle has started melting. Banishing all thoughts of Sam, he starts licking the frozen treat in long strokes from base to tip in an effort to not stain his shirt with pink drops of strawberry.
He glances up from under dark lashes to find Dean staring at him, cheeks flushed pink and lips parted. Dean must have noticed Castiel looking at him, because he clears his throat and shuffles around awkwardly.
“How is it?” he asks in a voice noticeably deeper than usual.
In reply, Castiel stares right at him and sucks the entire thing into his mouth, wrapping his lips around the base. Dean’s eyes widen almost comically, and Castiel hollows his cheeks, pulling it out with an obscenely wet noise.
“It’s not bad, but it’s certainly messier than a slushie.” Castiel licks his lips, sweet with juice and far more pink than usual.
“Yeah,” Dean pants out, fingers tightening on the hood of the car as Castiel notices him very subtly rocking forward.
“Perhaps it’s too hot,” Castiel muses, resuming long licks of the quickly disappearing treat, sucking at the base to keep it from dripping.
“Yeah.”
Castiel barely hears Dean’s exhaled reply as he watches his body jerk slightly as his eyes squeeze shut and he bites his lower lip to prevent any other sounds from escaping.
Castiel makes a quick exit to spare Dean embarrassment, and to prevent Dean from seeing just how much his own body was on board with what just happened.
He’s glad Sam isn’t around to ask about the satisfied grin he can’t keep off of his face. He makes a hasty retreat to his room to get just a bit more messy before cleaning up.
~~~
Dean makes himself scarce that evening, claiming he isn’t feeling well. If Sam thinks it’s weird that Castiel isn’t offering to check on him, he doesn’t voice his concerns. Dean doesn’t appear to be dying, but if he says he isn’t feeling well he is likely to lash out, so they opt to just leave him alone.
After a few days, things seemed to have returned to normal. Still weird and tense, but at the usual level that means Sam won’t say anything. Castiel is getting anxious, but strives to outwardly project an angelic calm.
When Sam mentions finding an easy case, Castiel is grateful that it is near Jody and suggests that Sam team up with her. Despite Dean’s mildly panicked protests, Sam insists that he and Jody can handle it and that Dean and Castiel will be fine on their own for a few days.
~~~
The next afternoon, Dean is in the library nursing a whiskey when Castiel brings in some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
“I’m not sure if I still like these, but I was partial to them as a human. Would you like one?” Castiel asks, holding a plate out to Dean.
“Thanks. Well, the uh. The popsicle experiment seemed to go okay. Maybe you’ll still like these too.” Dean blushes and looks down, taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“I hope so, they were one of my few pleasures as a human.”
Castiel sits down on a chair near Dean and gives the sandwich a contemplative look. When he feels Dean’s eyes on him he slides the tip of his index finger through the peanut butter oozing out from the bread and licks it off of his finger. He smothers a calculating smile when hears Dean choke slightly.
He looks calmly up at Dean. “Sometimes multiple flavors can be overwhelming, so if I taste them one at a time I can better assess if I’ll be able to handle the whole thing.”
“Right. Uh, yeah. Makes sense.” Dean takes a large swallow of whiskey.
“Hmm, not as good as I remember,” Castiel says as he pulls his finger from his mouth. “Maybe I should stick with popsicles for now.”
Dean whines low in his throat, cheeks flushing and a light sweat breaking out over his body.
“It’s not as warm in here as it was outside. I'm sure I could make it last longer this time.”
“Fuck,” Dean exhales quietly. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Why Dean, whatever do you mean?” Castiel’s eyes narrow, his words drip heavy with false innocence.
Dean squirms again, uncomfortable, but pinned in place by eye contact.
“Are you asking me, an Angel of the Lord , if I’m aware of what I’m doing? Are you asking if I’m aware of how hard you get for me?”
Dean blushes furiously, eyes wide with shock as he tries to formulate a reply.
“I will admit that before I was forced to dabble in humanity, I didn’t understand what was going on. Why you could never sit still. Why you would always rush off. That heavy, salty, tangy scent in the air. But once I was human? The pieces fell into place. The final realization was actually inspired by you. It was my first wet dream, my first orgasm in this vessel. I woke up achingly hard from dreaming about you, rubbing against the sheets until I ejaculated all over myself. That was the last dot to connect.”
The color drains from Dean’s face and his heart is racing. He stands up on shaky legs and starts to slowly back away. Castiel uses his more than human speed and strength to pin Dean’s back to the wall, hands gripping his biceps tightly.
“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” Castiel’s voice is quiet, but commanding.
“To, uh. To my room?” Dean’s voice is shakier than what he’d probably like.
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I won’t let you run away again. I won’t let you deny both of us or continue to politely look the other way.”
Castiel looks down pointedly at Dean’s very obvious erection.
“I… Cas.”
“I’m sorry Dean, but I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do things like deep throat a frozen confection in front of you, wishing it was your cock in my mouth, while you rub yourself to orgasm against the side of your car.”
Dean blushes and whines as he jerks slightly in Castiel’s grasp. Castiel looks down to see a small wet patch at the head of Dean’s swollen cock, where it’s pressed tight against his jeans.
“Dean, look at me.”
Dean looks at him, eyes wide, pupils nearly eclipsing the green.
“If you really and truly don’t want this, tell me now and I’ll stop.”
He pauses a few moments, listening to Dean’s ragged breaths as they puff against his lips.
“Don’t. Don’t stop. Please.”
Dean’s voice is quiet, and a little scared, but he’s not saying no.
“Good. I was hoping you’d say that. When I pulled you out of Hell I put you back together, and now I want to watch you fall apart. I don’t want you to hide from me anymore. Not when this is something we both want. I want to see how hard you get for me, and I want us to deal with it together. As much as I enjoy knowing that you’re touching yourself because of me, it’s not enough.”
He drags his thumb over the damp patch on Dean’s jeans, feeling another warm pulse of liquid against his skin. Dean moans and rolls his hips in a desperate bid for friction. Castiel traces light circles through the slick fluid and brings his damp thumb up to his lips.
“I want to see and taste how wet you get for me. I’ve grown rather addicted to the scent, and I want to feel you pressing it against my lips and into my mouth.”
Castiel is still standing far enough back from Dean that their only point of contact is where his hand grips Dean’s bicep hard enough to bruise, pinning him to the wall. After lapping up the fluid from his thumb while maintaining eye contact, he moves his hand back to Dean’s arm. He feels tremors racing through Dean’s body and longs to press against him, but not until he’s had a little more revenge. He wants Dean out of his mind with desperation.
Still keeping their bodies apart, he leans in to speak softly into Dean’s ear. “Dean, after I lick and suck every inch of your cock, do you know what I’m going to you?”
“Anything. Anything, Cas. Whatever you want.”
Castiel smiles, predatory. “I’m going to get you ready for me. I’m going to spread your legs and lick open that pretty pink hole. Once you’re all shiny wet and opening up for me, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue first, licking and sucking until you’re begging for it. Maybe I’ll let you ride my face, grinding against my mouth, trying to get me deeper. Then you can live out your cowboy fantasies as I let you ride my cock. I know you’re curious. Do you want to see how big it is? How deep I’ll be buried inside you?”
“Cas, please.” Dean’s voice is shaky and breathy. Cas can feel the shift in air as Dean rolls his hips up against nothing. Clearly desperate for more than just the friction of his jeans.
“Mmm, so desperate for me. Dean, I want to mark you again, to claim you as mine. It was a mistake to take my mark from you before. I should never have let you doubt my intentions.”
“‘M yours. Still yours. Always was. Please, Cas. It hurts .”
Castiel feels a flush of warmth in his chest at those words. Perhaps the teasing has gone on long enough, especially since he’s dangerously close to the edge himself.
“Shh,” he murmurs softly. “I’m going to take care of you. I will make sure there is never a doubt that you are mine, as much as I am yours.” He slowly unbuttons Dean’s jeans, and lowers the zipper. Dean groans in relief at the sudden release of pressure.
“Show me, but don’t touch. I want to see you. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“Y-yeah.”
Dean’s hands are shaking, but he does as asked. He pulls the waist of his boxers away from his body and pushes them down his thighs. His cock springs up, slapping against his stomach, splattering his shirt and dripping with arousal.
“Gorgeous,” Castiel sighs. “You’re so good for me. Take off your shirt and stay there for me, just like that.”
Dean does as he’s told, dropping his shirt to the floor. As he does, Castiel opens his own pants and pulls out his cock, flushed dark and hard, shiny with how much he’s been leaking while teasing Dean. He gasps as he touches it, drawing Dean’s attention.
“You’re beautiful,” Castiel gasps as he fucks into his own fist. He’s already so close he knows it won’t take much.
Dean’s eyes are hungry and desperate and dark as he watches Castiel jacking off mere inches in front of him. He starts babbling near incoherent pleas mixed in with Castiel’s name, and after a few more strokes Castiel cries out a possessive claim in Enochian. The first hot pulse of release splashes against Dean’s shoulder, once again marking him as belonging to Castiel. He shudders as he watches more of his claim splatter Dean’s chest and over his swollen cock, dripping down his thighs.
“Ohfuckohfuckohfuck,” Dean chants, arching his back as an orgasm slams through his body, jet after hot jet of fluid spurting across his chest, mixing with Castiel’s release as warmth flows over his skin.
Finally Castiel falls against him, bodies and foreheads pushed together as they try to catch their breath.
Well, that went better than I imagined, Cas thought.
“Cas?” Dean’s voice is small, hesitant.
Castiel keeps his eyes tightly shut, bracing for the inevitable fallout.
“Yes, Dean?”
“I think we need a shower.”
Cas looks up at Dean, suddenly hopeful. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“Together?”
Cas grins, finally pressing his lips to Dean’s.
“Yes. Together.”