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Dean woke to a forceful rat-tat. He groaned and stretched, body still heavy with sleep. Shaking himself awake, he crossed the seedy motel room to the door, barking out a rough “ ‘S there?”
“The pizza man,” a gruff voice answered from the other side of the door.
Dean’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t ordered pizza. They had come back from their last case, some son of a bitch shifter/vamp hybrid, and collapsed into sleep. Sam had left an hour or so ago to scope out some grub, letting Dean catch an extra forty winks. But Sam would’ve stayed in if he had just ordered pizza.
Leaning down, Dean peered into the peephole. The sight on the other side of the door surprised him.
“Cas?”
He quickly unlocked and opened the door, greeting the pizza-uniform-clad angel with an inquisitive stare.
“Cas,” he said. “What’re you doing?”
Castiel pushed his way into the room, leading with the steaming pizza box. He looked ridiculous, electric blue-and-red cap perched upon his head. A name tag on the slightly-too-large polo read “Hello, my name is Joey” next to the little Dominos logo. He must have “borrowed” it.
Dean laughed, hands on his hips. Cas worked his way further into the room, placing the pizza box on one of the bedside tables. He cast a baleful glare towards the hunter, then, taking a deep breath, stuck his chin out and twitched his eyebrows. He ran his tongue over his top lip. The effect was comical and Dean laughed harder.
“Well, Cas,” he said. “I appreciate the service, but, uh, can you explain what exactly is up with the getup? You could’ve just brought me breakfast in your regular clothes, you know.”
The angel approached him, one eyebrow arched and biting his lower lip. “Dean,” he said. “I am the pizza man.”
Then Dean was being pressed against the wall and Cas’s mouth was on his, sucking and biting ferociously.
“Yeah, you little –” Cas paused awkwardly. “–bitch, you like that?”
It took Dean a few seconds to put it together. The pizza, the uniform, the dirty talk. And, oh, oh shit.
“Cas!” he exclaimed, taking ahold of the man’s face and pulling it from his. He had to fight his laughter. “Are you reenacting the pizza man/babysitter porn?”
Cas’s eyebrows furrowed. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.” He tried to kiss Dean again, but Dean couldn’t stop laughing. His body shook helplessly. He had to hold onto Cas’s ridiculous polo just to stay upright.
“Oh my God, man,” he said, gasping, lungs aching.
The angel growled, low and feral. Then he flung Dean upon the bed, stomach down, and gave his backside a hearty slap. “Shut up, you ... naughty slut!”
That just made Dean laugh harder, his face reddening. He flopped over, convulsing in his laughing fit. “Cas,” he gasped. “I can’t even, oh my God.”
“Dean!”
The hunter took a few moments to breathe, calming his laughter, and when he looked back up at his angel, the despondent look upon Cas’s face sobered him entirely. Dean’s name had come out as a desperate whine and now it was obvious that he had offended the angel when he hadn’t taken the scenario seriously. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, face softening.
“Hey, Cas,” he said. “I’m sorry. It just ... You surprised me, that’s all. The whole thing was a little ridiculous. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, man.”
Cas offered Dean a half-hearted smile, then turned to leave. “It’s all right, Dean. I understand if you don’t want to be my babysitter. It was a ... foolish hope.”
Oh, no. Cas had thought that his laughter had been all-out rejection. Dean stood, catching the angel’s arm, and swung him around. He gently removed the ridiculous hat from its perch atop Cas’s head and took the angel’s face in his hands. He grinned and told Cas, “Now you hold up a moment. You forgot your payment.”
Then his lips were crashing down and Cas opened to him, mouth hot and ready. Deft hands stripped Cas of his absurd clothing and pinned him to the bed, shaking and moaning. Cas fumbled Dean’s shirt off, lips flushed and swollen.
“You want my c-cock, you whore?” He stuttered awkwardly, as Dean slithered over him. The hunter tried to press kisses into Cas’s neck, but they came out as grins smeared across the man’s skin.
“Cas,” he said. “Do us both a favour and stop trying to talk dirty.”
The angel nodded, looking relieved, and Dean claimed his lips, invading his mouth as he shimmied out of his jeans.
A knock pulled them from their frantic grinding. Both their eyes snapped to the door, no way to cover their situation.
“Hey, Dean, it’s Sam. Can I come in? I got breakfast.”
Dean stuttered awkwardly. “Uh, sorta ... Sorta got a situation in here, Sammy. Can you give me a couple minutes? Like, ten?”
He could almost hear Sam’s eyeroll. “You expect me to wait out here for ten minutes? Dean, c’mon, you want breakfast or not?”
Dean wriggled off of the angel and back into his jeans, trying to will his boner down by sheer force of mind. Cas pouted as he redressed in his freaky angel way, familiar tie and trenchcoat appearing on his body. “Just a moment, Sam, give me a couple seconds.” He kicked Cas’s fallen pizza uniform under the bed. So they were red and flustered and Cas had a bite mark already forming on the skin just above his shirt collar, but they were Sam-presentable. Dean stiffly walked over to the door and let his brother in, jeans uncomfortably tight. Man, he was going to have a bad case of blue balls.
Cas blushed brightly under Sam’s inquisitive gaze. “Uh, hi Cas? I didn’t realize you were planning on dropping by. What ... were you guys up to?”
Both men cleared their throats, suddenly busy looking at the floor. Sam could feel the overwhelming awkward. Holy crap, he did not want any part of this. He desperately searched for an out.
Spotting the pizza box on the bedside, he said, “Oh, looks like you guys already have breakfast. Awesome. Well, I think I’ll just get out of your hair.” He left hurriedly. Leave it to Cas to pick the most inopportune time to jump his brother. At least this meant they were finally on par about their feelings. Sam had gotten so sick of watching them make cow eyes at each other.
Back in the room, Cas and Dean stared at each other, blushing furiously.
“So, uh,” Dean said. “That was–”
Cas interrupted him. “Can we skip the talking part? I’m ridiculously uncomfortable and need release before I can think straight.”
Dean breathed, relieved. “Oh, yeah. Absolutely. Me too.”
They were both back on the bed within seconds.