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moonlettuceTitle: The hypotenuse of a right-angle triangle
Author: Claire
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It starts, as many things do, with Dean watching porn...
It starts, as many things do, with Dean watching porn. There are four women on the TV with several dildos and not a real pair of boobs between them. And it isn't enough to totally redeem the fact that he's stuck in the ass-end of nowhere, but it's a start. On the upside, the seal's been saved, the evil's been vanquished and the angels have given them the night off.
Ruby turned up a couple of hours ago and dragged Sam away, muttering about a separate motel room and not being anywhere near Dean. There was also some comment about chocolate sauce that made Sam blush bright red, but Dean's trying to block that out of his mind. Because the last thing he wants to be thinking about is his baby brother having fun with chocolate sauce while he's stuck here in a motel room with a carpet so lurid he's not sure if it's the pattern or if someone puked and didn't clean it up properly.
Of course, it's only fair that if Sam gets to have some fun, then so does Dean. And since he really doesn't feel like going out and picking someone up at the nearest bar, it means that Mr Bon Scott's brand new credit card is paying for Dean's night with Slutty Housewives.
Sliding a hand down to open his jeans, Dean closes his eyes, spreading his legs wider as he fishes his cock out, stroking himself and feeling the flesh harden in his hand. He hisses as the skin catches slightly and reaches out to the bottle on the table next to him, frowning as he flicks the lid open and the smell of vanilla wafts out. At least the hand lotion he's liberated out of Sam's bag isn't the flowery shit Sam had had last time. Dean's cock had smelled like a fucking bouquet for the entire day.
On the screen there's a woman on her knees with a giant dildo being stuffed up her pussy while she grins and moans aboutso good and so big. And Dean's fingers tighten on his cock, grip slicker thanks to the lotion as he jacks himself slowly.
Dean closes his eyes, feminine groans of pleasure fading into the background as Dean's mind replaces the image on the screen with blue eyes and the voice of an angel. Because Dean's all for equal opportunities when it comes to sex, although Castiel's been taking a more equal role than ever in Dean's head recently. And he's pretty sure that jerking off to thoughts of an angel of the Lord sucking your cock is a breaking at least a few of the commandments. But he's also pretty sure that God's got more important things to worry about than Dean imagining fucking one of his kids.
He can see the angel sliding to his knees, tie pulled off and trench coat abandoned to the floor as he leans forward, eyes fixed on Dean's as he opens his mouth and--
"Cas--"
"Yes, Dean?" Voice that most definitely isn't in his mind.
Dean's eyes snap open to find Cas watching him, calm blue gaze not fazed by the sight of Dean with his cock out.
"Jesus holy fuck, Cas!" Dean glares at the angel as he yanks his hand off his cock and stuffs himself back into his jeans. "Warn a guy before you do that!"
"My apologies, Dean. I merely came to tell you--"
"Ah!" Dean holds up a finger, cutting off Cas's words. "Night off, remember."
"But I--"
"Unless the next words out of your mouth are brought you pizza or came here to have wild monkey sex, then I don't wanna hear it."
Cas glances down for a moment before looking back at Dean. "I don't have any pizza," he says carefully.
Dean makes a noise that isn't a snort, and is nothing like a snort, no matter what Sammy insists.
"Guess that means you're here for the wild monkey sex then," Dean comments, still half expecting a lightning bolt to come from the sky, through the ceiling and smite him where he sits.
Cas is quiet for long moments and then--
"I don't have pizza."
The words are deliberate, quiet, like Cas is unsure. Although Dean doesn't know what the fuck Cas has to be unsure about. The only one who should be unsure is Dean, since he's pretty positive that Cas just agreed that he's there for the wild monkey sex. And that never happens. Except in porn movies. And that tends to be less angel of the Lord and more I'm here to fix your washing machine but oops, your clothes have fallen off so let's fuck.
"Seriously?" Because Dean's luck just isn't this good. Is never this good.
Cas nods.
Except, apparently, when it absolutely is.
Author: Claire
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Summary: It starts, as many things do, with Dean watching porn...
It starts, as many things do, with Dean watching porn. There are four women on the TV with several dildos and not a real pair of boobs between them. And it isn't enough to totally redeem the fact that he's stuck in the ass-end of nowhere, but it's a start. On the upside, the seal's been saved, the evil's been vanquished and the angels have given them the night off.
Ruby turned up a couple of hours ago and dragged Sam away, muttering about a separate motel room and not being anywhere near Dean. There was also some comment about chocolate sauce that made Sam blush bright red, but Dean's trying to block that out of his mind. Because the last thing he wants to be thinking about is his baby brother having fun with chocolate sauce while he's stuck here in a motel room with a carpet so lurid he's not sure if it's the pattern or if someone puked and didn't clean it up properly.
Of course, it's only fair that if Sam gets to have some fun, then so does Dean. And since he really doesn't feel like going out and picking someone up at the nearest bar, it means that Mr Bon Scott's brand new credit card is paying for Dean's night with Slutty Housewives.
Sliding a hand down to open his jeans, Dean closes his eyes, spreading his legs wider as he fishes his cock out, stroking himself and feeling the flesh harden in his hand. He hisses as the skin catches slightly and reaches out to the bottle on the table next to him, frowning as he flicks the lid open and the smell of vanilla wafts out. At least the hand lotion he's liberated out of Sam's bag isn't the flowery shit Sam had had last time. Dean's cock had smelled like a fucking bouquet for the entire day.
On the screen there's a woman on her knees with a giant dildo being stuffed up her pussy while she grins and moans aboutso good and so big. And Dean's fingers tighten on his cock, grip slicker thanks to the lotion as he jacks himself slowly.
Dean closes his eyes, feminine groans of pleasure fading into the background as Dean's mind replaces the image on the screen with blue eyes and the voice of an angel. Because Dean's all for equal opportunities when it comes to sex, although Castiel's been taking a more equal role than ever in Dean's head recently. And he's pretty sure that jerking off to thoughts of an angel of the Lord sucking your cock is a breaking at least a few of the commandments. But he's also pretty sure that God's got more important things to worry about than Dean imagining fucking one of his kids.
He can see the angel sliding to his knees, tie pulled off and trench coat abandoned to the floor as he leans forward, eyes fixed on Dean's as he opens his mouth and--
"Cas--"
"Yes, Dean?" Voice that most definitely isn't in his mind.
Dean's eyes snap open to find Cas watching him, calm blue gaze not fazed by the sight of Dean with his cock out.
"Jesus holy fuck, Cas!" Dean glares at the angel as he yanks his hand off his cock and stuffs himself back into his jeans. "Warn a guy before you do that!"
"My apologies, Dean. I merely came to tell you--"
"Ah!" Dean holds up a finger, cutting off Cas's words. "Night off, remember."
"But I--"
"Unless the next words out of your mouth are brought you pizza or came here to have wild monkey sex, then I don't wanna hear it."
Cas glances down for a moment before looking back at Dean. "I don't have any pizza," he says carefully.
Dean makes a noise that isn't a snort, and is nothing like a snort, no matter what Sammy insists.
"Guess that means you're here for the wild monkey sex then," Dean comments, still half expecting a lightning bolt to come from the sky, through the ceiling and smite him where he sits.
Cas is quiet for long moments and then--
"I don't have pizza."
The words are deliberate, quiet, like Cas is unsure. Although Dean doesn't know what the fuck Cas has to be unsure about. The only one who should be unsure is Dean, since he's pretty positive that Cas just agreed that he's there for the wild monkey sex. And that never happens. Except in porn movies. And that tends to be less angel of the Lord and more I'm here to fix your washing machine but oops, your clothes have fallen off so let's fuck.
"Seriously?" Because Dean's luck just isn't this good. Is never this good.
Cas nods.
Except, apparently, when it absolutely is.
