[ castiel, on the other hand, never had to deal with hormones before that precipitous time in his life. it's not so bad now that he has grace again, even if it isn't his own grace, but apparently dean can still get a rise out of him.
he licks his lips and swallows around the lump in his throat. ]
I'm a little embarrassed. I know it must make you uncomfortable.
[ he assumes that dean is just saying that for his benefit, but, well, he appreciates it anyway. of course, then he has to go and put his hand on his shoulder, and the skin on skin contact rings through him like a bell. there's a small, soft hitch in his breath, which he hopes that the sound of the water covers. ]
[ The water still falls, splashes over them, droplets on old tile
yellowed with age. Dean licks his lips and ignores the things that stir in
his belly; naked under running water with another man - his friend, his
best friend - he’s losing track of what’s real what isn’t. Air is thick and
friends are strangers and Dean can’t tell up from down. Shame he doesn’t
have a drink. ]
Do you, uh. Want help with it? Dunno if you know what to do with it.
[ he would protest that he does know how to masturbate, thanks, but before he gets his mouth open to stick his foot into it, it occurs to him he has to concede his technique may leave a little to be desired. perhaps it's that rarely spotted self-preservation instinct, or his dedication to taking things too literally.
either way, he realizes dean is offering.
his chin jerks, though he doesn't quite manage to look back over his shoulder. ]
[ It would be insanely stupid for Cas to turn down Dean’s offer.
It’s not like he does this regularly, slip into the shower with other men,
press close, slide hands over wings, carefully pull broken feathers, ask if
they need pointers on how to handle a bone they’re not used to dealing
with. ]
Take it in your hand.
[ Moving close is hard, pressing between spread wings and the joint
of them against Cas’ back, a hand dropping to grip his hip, fingers
pressing into skin. ]
Don’t jerk, stroke. Nice and slow. It’s all in the movement, right? Skin on
skin. It’s nice.
[ yeah, sure. he can do all that. as soon as he stops internally combusting.
dean crowds in close, hot at his back, and he moves almost as though by rote, like a machine. his hand drops to his hard cock and his fingers grip around it, a breath rushing in through his nose to hitch in the back of his throat at the sudden deluge of pure sensation. he had known he was aroused, obviously, but he'd never actually considered taking care of it.
he hadn't prepared himself for how good it'd feel.
but he has a little bit of trouble following dean's directions in his nervous haste— squeezing too tight, moving his hand too stiffly. it doesn't feel bad, but it isn't what dean told him to do. ]
[ The wings present a small problem- he can’t quite press up against Cas’ back, but he likes them out. It’s.. kinda wild, a literal angel in the bathroom of a shoddy motel, a place that peaked in the 50s with greasers and black leather jackets. The shower shows its age, mold across the caulk despite the owners best attempts, the ancient shower head, the towels that feel like they’ve been washed too many times.
But the water stays hot, and Dean finds a way to rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder, his hand sliding from hip to thigh to inner thigh, a huffed chuckle in his throat. ]
Slower. Don’t squeeze so tight. You’re not trying to stop a water hose.
[ it has a certain ambiance— familiar. he likes it despite himself, and the dirty tiles, and the stained shower curtain that's currently in a pile on the floor. dean's hand is rough and warm on the soft skin of his inner thigh, and for several seconds he forgets to breathe.
but he does as dean instructs, loosening his grip. it feels better, feels so good, in fact, that it pulls a moan out of him. ]
[ He'll have to leave some cash for housekeeping for the mess they're making; no shower curtain and the water still on, the floor is puddling and slick, they'll have to watch their step when they get out.
He tries to look down so he can see what Cas is doing, dragging his fingers over skin, slipping them between Cas' thighs so he can brush over his balls. ]
There you go. It's better with lube, it's all nice and slick. But the water works in a pinch, so keep going just like that. You're doing great.
I— [ he's unraveling moving his hand in a daze. dean's fingers brush his balls and his sac tightens, as spurt of precum dribbling from the tip to be washed away in the spray. the water hitting his sensitive cockhead makes his knees tremble, toes curling against the tub floor, and he finds himself leaning back against dean, at least a much as he can with his wings in the way. ] —I think I'm. Close.
I'd be surprised if you weren't. You've been pent up this whole time, haven't you?
[ He uses his other hand to slip around Cas' waist, palm flat on his belly, drawing him close when Cas leans back. The other still teases his balls, nudging up under them to press his knuckles against perineum. ]
he opens his mouth to answer, and makes a keening sound instead— dean's big hand on his soft stomach, dean knuckling up underneath his balls, so close to his fluttering hole. his wings shiver, and he does as dean offers, mouth fallen open on a gasp as he speeds to a rhythm that almost hurts. he feels the sensation coalescing in his belly complete, tightening his inner muscles until he's spilling ejaculate all over his hand, all over the grimy tile. ]
[ perfect, oh god. he whines, and another dribble of jizz leaks down his fingers and over his balls. the thought he might have gotten some on dean's hand nearly threatens him with a second orgasm— he has to take several deep breaths to collect himself. ]
[ He moves quickly; Cas still feels pent up, and he knows if they move fast enough they might be able to wrong a second out of him, which is always nice.
He knocks Cas’ hand away and takes over, stroking his cock quickly, thinning the head, twisting his wrist. Cas can come again, he knows it. ]
[ oh holy FUCK— not that he minds dean's help, but he doesn't expect for his hand to be knocked away (and why does that make his body sing with arousal?) or for dean's to replace it— he makes a half-choked off sound that's caught between a yelp and a scream while his hips jerk into the welcome heat. dean is right, he can absolutely wring another out of him while that feeling is still simmering so close to the surface.
he presses one hand to the wall to brace himself, the other clamping down around dean's wrist. probably too hard, but he needs a ballast, because it's taking all of his control not to flap his wings and give dean a shiner— or a broken nose.
the consequence is that his power needs another outlet, and the bulbs above the bathroom mirror pop one by one with a sharp plnk! plnk! until they're bathed in darkness. ]
[ It’s kind of loud, that noise Cas makes; shrill, almost like it’s laced in enochian. The hand kinda hurts too, but he keeps moving, keeps jerking his cock, determined and groaning softly against his ear.
He isn’t expecting the bursting lights and Dean can’t help but laugh as they shatter and they’re plunged into darkness. ]
Yeah, sweetheart - [ breathless, horny; ] Just like that. Gimme another - You can do it.
[ dean's voice in his ear is what crests him— something in the distance makes a loud, unfamiliar sound, and with a gasp, his cock tightening in dean's grip, another splatter of cum hits the wall. there's a sound of something shattering on the other side of the wall, and several people shouting or making sounds of dismay—
as the entire building is plunged into darkness. ]
[ Dean works him through it, strokes him like he’s jerking himself off, wringing that second orgasm out of him.
He doesn’t expect the entire room to go dark, and as Cas comes down Dean can hear people swearing, commotion starting through the motel. He huffs a soft laugh, letting go when Cas starts to soften, letting the water rinse the jizz away that’s on his hand. ]
[ castiel's answer vaguely resembles the words "very much so", but with the words so slurred together that it comes out sounding more like enochian— castiel's body sagging heavily in dean's arms, his wings trying to spread out to counterbalance the weight. his right wing thuds hard against the shower wall and he grunts, arm wheeling to slap his palm hard against the same wall to keep himself from slipping and taking dean down with him. ]
[ He lets go of Cas’ cock in favor of both arms around him, holding him steady. ]
Yeah. Let’s get you in bed. [ He reaches to shut the water off, laughing at the mess they’ve made. The plastic curtain is in a pile on the floor, the bath mat soaked. They’re only lucky the towels themselves aren’t wet. By the grace of god they’re further away on the sink, outside the splash zone. ]
[ is his eloquent answer. he lets dean help him out of the tub, wobbling on one leg, and then two legs. even his wings seem to wobble, his mouth a precarious slash across his face as he focuses on balancing. once steadily on the ground, he moves for the towels, keeping one for himself and handing one off to dean.
when he turns and catches sight of him, he stares, like he can't quite believe that happened. even in the dark, he can see dean easily.
Dean chuckles, reaching to try and steady Cas as he himself climbs out, hand on the wall as he steps over the lip of the tub. He's definitely standing in a puddle, and the bathmat squishes beneath his feet, wet and cold.
Eugh. ]
Thanks. [ The towel is welcome, even if he can't see very well, and he rubs it over his head, ignoring his bobbing dick. ]
Help me with what? [ he doesn't have angel eyes Cas, he's assuming he's in the clear. ]
[ castiel stands with his wings dripping, the puddles beneath them growing and only adding to dean's discomfort. drying them is going to take more than two towels. ]
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he licks his lips and swallows around the lump in his throat. ]
I'm a little embarrassed. I know it must make you uncomfortable.
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[ It's Cas. It's not like he's in some gym locker room and dudes are trying to peep his dick.
He shrugs, not that Cas can see it. He does lean in, tries to work around the wings and rest a hand on his shoulder. ]
Promise.
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Thank— Thank you.
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[ The water still falls, splashes over them, droplets on old tile yellowed with age. Dean licks his lips and ignores the things that stir in his belly; naked under running water with another man - his friend, his best friend - he’s losing track of what’s real what isn’t. Air is thick and friends are strangers and Dean can’t tell up from down. Shame he doesn’t have a drink. ]
Do you, uh. Want help with it? Dunno if you know what to do with it.
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[ he would protest that he does know how to masturbate, thanks, but before he gets his mouth open to stick his foot into it, it occurs to him he has to concede his technique may leave a little to be desired. perhaps it's that rarely spotted self-preservation instinct, or his dedication to taking things too literally.
either way, he realizes dean is offering.
his chin jerks, though he doesn't quite manage to look back over his shoulder. ]
I could. Use the pointers?
[ a pointer? a— some help. is what he's saying. ]
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[ It would be insanely stupid for Cas to turn down Dean’s offer. It’s not like he does this regularly, slip into the shower with other men, press close, slide hands over wings, carefully pull broken feathers, ask if they need pointers on how to handle a bone they’re not used to dealing with. ]
Take it in your hand.
[ Moving close is hard, pressing between spread wings and the joint of them against Cas’ back, a hand dropping to grip his hip, fingers pressing into skin. ]
Don’t jerk, stroke. Nice and slow. It’s all in the movement, right? Skin on skin. It’s nice.
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[ yeah, sure. he can do all that. as soon as he stops internally combusting.
dean crowds in close, hot at his back, and he moves almost as though by rote, like a machine. his hand drops to his hard cock and his fingers grip around it, a breath rushing in through his nose to hitch in the back of his throat at the sudden deluge of pure sensation. he had known he was aroused, obviously, but he'd never actually considered taking care of it.
he hadn't prepared himself for how good it'd feel.
but he has a little bit of trouble following dean's directions in his nervous haste— squeezing too tight, moving his hand too stiffly. it doesn't feel bad, but it isn't what dean told him to do. ]
Um... Is tha..that...
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But the water stays hot, and Dean finds a way to rest his chin on Cas’ shoulder, his hand sliding from hip to thigh to inner thigh, a huffed chuckle in his throat. ]
Slower. Don’t squeeze so tight. You’re not trying to stop a water hose.
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but he does as dean instructs, loosening his grip. it feels better, feels so good, in fact, that it pulls a moan out of him. ]
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He tries to look down so he can see what Cas is doing, dragging his fingers over skin, slipping them between Cas' thighs so he can brush over his balls. ]
There you go. It's better with lube, it's all nice and slick. But the water works in a pinch, so keep going just like that. You're doing great.
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[ He uses his other hand to slip around Cas' waist, palm flat on his belly, drawing him close when Cas leans back. The other still teases his balls, nudging up under them to press his knuckles against perineum. ]
You can speed up if you want.
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he opens his mouth to answer, and makes a keening sound instead— dean's big hand on his soft stomach, dean knuckling up underneath his balls, so close to his fluttering hole. his wings shiver, and he does as dean offers, mouth fallen open on a gasp as he speeds to a rhythm that almost hurts. he feels the sensation coalescing in his belly complete, tightening his inner muscles until he's spilling ejaculate all over his hand, all over the grimy tile. ]
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He presses himself up against Cas’ back best he can, purring encouragement, massaging with his knuckle, thumb smoothing over his belly. ]
There you go, just like that. Feels good, doesn’t it? Perfect, Cas, you’re perfect.
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Dean...
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[ He moves quickly; Cas still feels pent up, and he knows if they move fast enough they might be able to wrong a second out of him, which is always nice.
He knocks Cas’ hand away and takes over, stroking his cock quickly, thinning the head, twisting his wrist. Cas can come again, he knows it. ]
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he presses one hand to the wall to brace himself, the other clamping down around dean's wrist. probably too hard, but he needs a ballast, because it's taking all of his control not to flap his wings and give dean a shiner— or a broken nose.
the consequence is that his power needs another outlet, and the bulbs above the bathroom mirror pop one by one with a sharp plnk! plnk! until they're bathed in darkness. ]
Dean! Dean!
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He isn’t expecting the bursting lights and Dean can’t help but laugh as they shatter and they’re plunged into darkness. ]
Yeah, sweetheart - [ breathless, horny; ] Just like that. Gimme another - You can do it.
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as the entire building is plunged into darkness. ]
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He doesn’t expect the entire room to go dark, and as Cas comes down Dean can hear people swearing, commotion starting through the motel. He huffs a soft laugh, letting go when Cas starts to soften, letting the water rinse the jizz away that’s on his hand. ]
Better?
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—I think it's time to get out of the shower.
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[ He lets go of Cas’ cock in favor of both arms around him, holding him steady. ]
Yeah. Let’s get you in bed. [ He reaches to shut the water off, laughing at the mess they’ve made. The plastic curtain is in a pile on the floor, the bath mat soaked. They’re only lucky the towels themselves aren’t wet. By the grace of god they’re further away on the sink, outside the splash zone. ]
Cmon. One foot out, let’s get dry.
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[ is his eloquent answer. he lets dean help him out of the tub, wobbling on one leg, and then two legs. even his wings seem to wobble, his mouth a precarious slash across his face as he focuses on balancing. once steadily on the ground, he moves for the towels, keeping one for himself and handing one off to dean.
when he turns and catches sight of him, he stares, like he can't quite believe that happened. even in the dark, he can see dean easily.
he can also see dean's erection. ]
I should... help you with that.
[ ideas are forming. ]
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Dean chuckles, reaching to try and steady Cas as he himself climbs out, hand on the wall as he steps over the lip of the tub. He's definitely standing in a puddle, and the bathmat squishes beneath his feet, wet and cold.
Eugh. ]
Thanks. [ The towel is welcome, even if he can't see very well, and he rubs it over his head, ignoring his bobbing dick. ]
Help me with what? [ he doesn't have angel eyes Cas, he's assuming he's in the clear. ]
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Your erection.
[ duh.
too bad. but he does. ]
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it got smaller and smaller
cas' dick
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