Chapter Text
Sam and Jack went to join Eileen on a hunt where she and a friend needed backup. Dean offered to go with, secretly hoping that they would just leave without him because Dean needs a damn break. They actually left him and now he's alone in the bunker. He can't remember the last time this happened—if ever—, which means he has a rare opportunity. He can watch porn on the big screen in the Dean Cave. He's always wanted to do that, just for the novelty of it. Dean has watched countless hours of Casa Erotica in motel rooms through the years, but that's not the same as watching it in his very own space—a space that isn't his bedroom, specifically.
He searches through his collection of DVDs, trying to find a specific one, but he can't remember the title, so he spends much longer than he'd like to looking over each of the covers. After what seems like ages, he finds it: Giving Him What He Needs. It's pretty standard fare, as far as porn goes. Nothing way out of the ordinary, just a needy bottom begging to be filled with cock. That's exactly why it's one of his favorites, though. He's been that needy bottom plenty of times and left the interaction feeling as sufficiently sated as he could expect from an average gay hookup. He would probably be more satisfied with those experiences if he wasn't thinking of someone else the whole time.
Having now found what he had been looking for, Dean puts his box of DVDs back into his closet—an appropriate place for a closeted bisexual to keep gay porn—and heads down the hallway to the Dean Cave. His cock is already approaching half hard by the time he gets there, based solely on the thrill of having some goddamn privacy for once.
Once the video is set up, Dean figures he might as well go for it and decides to undress completely to relish in the joys of privacy; he even leaves the door open.
Dean presses play and starts palming at his crotch, fully hard before the guys on screen are. He lubes his hand and strokes his cock, moaning loudly just because he can. With labored breathing, he speeds up his strokes, bringing himself close to the edge, but he's not ready for this to be over yet. He squeezes the base of his cock and rests a moment. His dick isn't happy about it.
Having staved off his orgasm for now, he starts again, keeping his hand slow. Fuck, he loves this video. He can't count the number of times he's pictured himself begging for Castiel like this—on his stomach, hips pulled up in the air, practically crying to be filled. Other times, he envisions himself on his knees, mouth open and eyes wide in a silent plea. Sometimes he imagines Castiel easily giving into his pleas, but sometimes he wonders just how far Castiel would go to tease him.
At this point, Dean isn't paying attention to the video, so he closes his eyes and just listens to the moans and the slaps of skin on skin, fantasizing that he and Cas were the ones making those noises. All he can think of is how badly he wants—needs—Castiel inside him. Whichever hole Cas chooses is fine by him, even if he doesn't touch Dean. Hell, Dean could probably come just from blowing him.
And because he can, because he's alone, Dean groans loudly, drawing out the vowel, "Cas…"
This was a mistake, apparently, because Dean heard the woosh of wings. His eyes shot open and he grabbed the pillow closest to him to cover his crotch. Standing beside Dean's chair, Castiel stares at him and tilts his head to the side, as if confused why Dean called his name. It couldn't possibly be more obvious why he groaned Cas' name when he was jacking off, but maybe he's giving Dean the benefit of the doubt? That's what he hopes anyway.
Castiel tears his eyes away from Dean, cheeks pink, and turns to the TV.
"You called my name and sounded distressed. It appears I misinterpreted your tone."
They stay frozen for a moment made all the more awkward by the porn playing on screen. They avoid looking at each other and there's nowhere else to look but the screen. He needs to find the words to ask Cas to leave but his mouth is dry and his mind comes up with nothing.
So now we're watching porn together, I guess, Dean thinks, just pretend this is a regular movie. Cas and I watch regular movies all the time.
But it isn't a regular movie. Regular movies don't make him hard. Well, not this hard anyway. There are plenty of movies they've watched together that get Dean more turned on than he'd like to admit, but this is the first time he's been fully erect in Castiel's presence. Dean would've expected that being walked in on (or more accurately, flown in on) would be an immediate boner killer; that doesn't seem to be the case with Castiel. If anything, he's harder now. Off-handedly, Dean wonders if Cas is horny from this, too.
"I also find this video arousing. I would like to join you in watching this… if that is something you're comfortable with."
Well, that answers that question. It's probably not me that's got him horny, though. Just the porn. Gay porn. Is Cas gay?
Castiel stands there silently; the only noise in the room is the moaning from the porn still playing on screen and all Dean can do is stare at him, face flushed with embarassment and arousal.
This is a dream come true. Literally, he's had almost this exact dream, minus the inability to say anything. Was he dreaming? It would make a lot more sense if this was a dream, but if this was a dream, wouldn't he have immediately said yes instead of sitting here, jaw dropped with no ability to speak? Or is his current inability to speak proof of this being a dream? If this was a dream, they would've moved past this by now, so this has to be real.
Giving up on words altogether, Dean nods slowly, but Castiel doesn't seem to believe his answer.
"You are allowed to decline, Dean. Your willingness does not appear genuine. Apologies for asking."
He turns towards the door and suddenly Dean can speak again and blurts out far too eagerly, "No no no, Cas you can be here and watch, it's okay, it's good, you don't need to leave."
He's nearly panting now and cringing at how desperate that sounded. Maybe Cas didn't notice the desperation in his voice. Maybe he did and he'll just ignore it. He's frozen again but manages to choke out, "if you still want to."
Dean's desperation seems to convince Castiel that he's being serious in saying 'yes' because he removes his coat and suit jacket and sits down in the other recliner while Dean's internal crisis continues.
Castiel starts rolling up his sleeves and Dean swallows, quickly turning away when he realizes he's staring. If his face could get any redder, it would. He tries to turn his focus back to the porn, but then he realizes he chose this video because the bottom kinda looks like Dean and the top looks a little too much like Cas. He really hopes that he doesn't notice. Sure, Dean has been wating for the right time to bring up his feelings, but this really isn't how he wants Castiel to find out about them—not that they don't seem pretty obvious now with the whole 'moaning Cas' name' of it all.
There never really seems to be a right time to tell him, though. It's been apocalypse after apocalypse and some betrayal here and there. Besides, what if Cas doesn't feel the same way? Why risk fucking up his friendship with one of the most important people in his life? It's better this way. This way he knows he won't fuck it up.
But now, sex has been brought into the mix—kinda. It's masturbation, obviously, but Cas is there, too. For the first time Cas is there, too. Cas is here, they're about to masturbate together, and now Cas is unzipping his pants. Even without looking directly at him, that makes Dean's cock throb, but he's unsure if he should touch himself yet.
In Dean's periphery, he sees Castiel pull his hardening cock out of his boxers and start stroking himself. Dean tries—he really does try—to keep his eyes focused on the TV when he follows suit, but can't help sneaking a glance. He's spent so much time fantasizing about what Castiel's cock looks like and now he has confirmation that he was right: Castiel's cock is the perfect size for Dean. Big enough that he'd have to work to keep his gag reflex in check; big enough that he could really feel it.
He swallows and snaps his eyes back to the TV, determined to give Castiel a reasonable amount of privacy. I mean, how would he feel if Cas was staring at his cock? Suddenly that thought was more interesting than anything happening on screen. He chanced another look at Cas, this time curious about where his eyes were. Like a regular boundary-respecting person, Cas was only looking at the TV. A small twinge of guilt churns in his gut.
Pull yourself together, Winchester. Watch the porn. Watch the porn. Watch the porn. Don't be a creep, just watch the porn.
But Dean can never manage to look at the screen for long before his eyes wander back to Cas. Some times looking at his face or his forearms; other times, mentally cataloguing exactly how Castiel stroked himself. His hand moves slowly, paying fervent attention to his tip and slicking his precum down his shaft. Dean watches as Castiel slouches further down into the seat and spreads his legs.
An involuntary moan leaves Dean's mouth when Cas unbuttons his shirt just enough to gain access to his nipples.
Dean had to close his eyes. There's no possible way he can pay attention to the video now. The only image he wants to see is Castiel fucking into his fist and tweaking his nipples. Eventually he gives into the urge again and sneaks another glance at Castiel. He notices something that makes his cock throb in his hand: Cas is looking at him, too.
Castiel, angel of the lord, is watching him masturbate. He's not glancing back at the TV. His eyes are locked on Dean and he's making gravelly, desperate sounds. Dean loses all shame and stops paying attention to the TV altogether, too. His free hand reaches for the remote and pauses the video, then turns to face Cas, who mirrors his movements. Dean avoids eye contact, only paying attention to the movements of Castiel's hands and imagining he was the one stroking Castiel's cock and teasing his nipples instead; he imagines his own hand as Castiel's.
Their hands move faster now and their breathing becomes more frantic. From the way Castiel moans and gasps, Dean is certain he's about as close to coming as Dean is himself and god does he want to see the expression Cas makes when he comes. He's wanted to see that expression just about the whole time they've known each other. For as much as he's been trying to avoid making eye contact during this, he can't help himself. Dean takes a peek at Castiel's face and their eyes meet.
Dean's breath stutters and before he knows it, he's coming thick spurts over his fist and over the small table between them. With his eyes involuntarily closed through his orgasm, he just misses how Castiel looks when he comes shortly after. He curses at himself under his breath, first for missing it, then again when he realizes what they just did.
His eyes shoot open, assessing the mess between them, then making the mistake of eye contact again. Dean clears his throat.
"I—I gotta—uhh—y'know… gonna get stuff to clean this up." Dean stutters.
Before he can stand, Cas uses his grace to clean the mess between them.
"Oh, heh, thanks then I'm—" Dean clears his throat, pulls his pants on, and speeds his way to the bathroom for a quick internal crisis.
"Cas," Dean prays. It sounds like a groan. He may be in pain and he needs Castiel's help.
With a woosh of his wings, he appears in the Dean Cave and finds Dean scrambling to cover himself while porn blares on the TV. Thoroughly embarassed (though certainly less embarassed than Dean), Castiel blushes and turns his attention to the TV, explaining the confusion to Dean. He keeps watching, trying to find something to say and secretly hoping that Dean will ask for his help.
Castiel has had almost this exact fantasy before: Dean praying to him for his presence during a time of self-pleasure, pleading for his cock. But Dean wasn't exactly pleading for him. He just said his name. It could mean nothing. Perhaps Dean had been saying someone else's name but Cas cut him off by showing up so abruptly. He does have an ex named Cassie, but this is gay porn. Why would he be calling out a woman's name while he watches gay porn?
Castiel takes a moment to assess the situation. Porn is playing. The men in this video look strikingly similar to him and Dean. Dean is naked, minus the pillow covering his genitals. He can sense that Dean's arousal has not faded, despite Castiel's presence, and now Cas has an erection, too.
I recall Dean saying that 'you don't watch porn in a room full of dudes and you don't talk about it,' but Dean has not turned off this video, suggesting that it is okay that we are watching pornography together. Perhaps it is also acceptable to 'talk about it', maybe even join him in this activity.
Finally breaking the silence, Castiel says, "I also find this video arousing. I would like to join you in watching this… if that is something you're comfortable with."
The uncomfortable silence resumes as if the room is holding its breath. After an abnormally long time for Dean to stay silent, he slowly nods, and Castiel can't believe Dean is allowing him to join. His response seems unenthusiastic, though, so Castiel lets him know that Dean is allowed to decline and apologizes, preparing to leave.
"No no no, Cas you can be here and watch, it's okay, it's good, you don't need to leave," Dean babbles, urgently, "if you still want to," he adds, failing miserably at nonchalance when he chokes out the words.
Now believing Dean's invitation, Castiel removes his coat and suit jacket and sits in the unoccupied recliner. He waits a moment to see if Dean will resume first, but he still seems frozen and uncertain if Cas 'joining' meant he'd be masturbating, too. To answer the unasked question, Castiel unzips his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers; Dean follows suit, removing the pillow from his lap. Castiel swears he can feel Dean's eyes on him and peeks over at him out of curiosity.
Dean is staring at the screen, which Castiel should have expected, and turns his attention to the TV as well. Only seconds later, curiosity gets the better of Castiel and he looks over to Dean to take in the sight of his body. It's been years since he last saw Dean completely naked. At the time, Castiel focused only on the mission of Heaven, and heaven said to rebuild Dean's body. Even mangled by hell hounds tearing him apart, Dean's body was beautiful. Muscles built by the practical strength needed for hunting, freckles dotting his skin. Castiel remembers sewing him back together with his grace, and once Dean's soul was returned to his body, he shone radiant.
With a better understanding of humanity and a grasp on feelings of his own, Castiel saw Dean's naked body with a hunger that wasn't there last time he saw him naked. As an ordinary angel, rebuilding Dean's genitalia was no more interesting than rebuilding the rest of him. But now, he can hardly take his eyes off Dean's cock for a second before he needs to look again.
Castiel unbuttons his shirt and rubs his nipples—something he remembers liking from exploring his body as a human. He hears Dean moan and can't deny any longer that Dean is getting off on watching him masturbate, but he seems to think it's disrespectful to watch Castiel because he closes his eyes.
Cas figures that Dean would be more comfortable if he didn't think he was the only one getting off on them masturbating together, so he stops paying attention to the TV altogether and watches Dean jacking himself off, eagerly waiting for the moment when Dean reopens his eyes.
And then he does.
Castiel was right. The moment Dean registers that Cas is into this, too, he pauses the porn and turns to unapologetically stare at his cock; Castiel mirrors him. Within moments, their hands are in sync and they moan loudly alongside each other. Dean remains focused on Castiel's cock, but Castiel's eyes wander up Dean's body to his face, flushed and glazed with sweat. Dean pants through parted lips and Cas wonders what it would be like to have those lips wrapped around his cock. That image brings him closer to the edge and he wonders how close Dean is to coming. Fuck, he'd love to be the one to make Dean come.
Dean's eyes meet Castiel's for less than a second before Dean shuts hit eyes and comes. The sight of Dean making a mess on the table between them; the sound of Dean's deep moans; and the vulnerability of Dean falling apart overwhelm Castiel and pushes him over the edge. His cum joins Dean's on the table between them.
"Fuck…" Dean sighs, then follows with a much louder, "Fuck!" as he assesses the situation.
Dean makes eye contact with Castiel, which he senses is filled with awkwardness, made all the more obvious by him stuttering, "I—I gotta—uhh—y'know… gonna get stuff to clean this up."
For an insane moment, Castiel considers cleaning it up with his tongue. He thinks better of it and uses his grace to clean up the mess instead.
"Oh, heh, thanks then I'm—" Dean clears his throat, pulls his pants on, and bolts out of the room before Cas can even zip his pants back up.
Castiel sits alone in his recliner, processing today's events from the time he showed up in the bunker until now. It was all very strange. Under most circumstances, a human being interrupted during a masturbation session would ruin their arousal, but that didn't happen with Dean. Dean actually got more aroused. It suddenly clicks in his brain that Dean is sexually attracted to him.
Cas finishes redressing with no idea what he'll say when Dean returns. He hears Dean's footsteps approaching.
He panics.
Woosh.
Dean washes his hands and stares at himself in the mirror, trying to grasp what the fuck just happened.
Alright, Cas showed up while I was jacking off. Asked to join. I sounded fucking desperate when I asked him to stick around. Wait, backtracking. He said he found the video arousing which is why he wanted to join. The gay video. The gay video that kinda looks like me and Cas banging. Did he notice that those guys kinda look like us? Does Cas wanna fuck me? Pretty sure he figured out by now that I want him to fuck me. I came from fucking eye contact. Jesus fucking Christ I can't believe all it took to get me there was looking into his damn eyes. Gayest part of that whole thing.
Dean spends the next several minutes convincing himself that Castiel couldn't possibly want to fuck him. After all, it was the porn that got him hard. Then Cas got a live show, so why wouldn't he pay more attention to the real thing than a damn video? It doesn't matter who the guy was, Cas totally would've looked at any guy jacking off instead of the video. After all, Dean would've rather watched another guy jack off than a video no matter who he was so surely the same applies to Cas.
He snaps himself out of his spiral (tries to, anyway) and splashes cold water on his face.
Enough freaking out, I gotta figure out what to say when I get back to the Dean Cave. I should probably tell him we shouldn't do that again. I can't lose him and if we cross this line too many times, I might fuck it up and lose him. But now that the cat's outta the bag, I could just set some ground rules and we could do that again. Maybe more—hopefully more. Shit, I dunno what to do. Maybe I should just talk to Cas, no plan, just wing it. Just say 'hey, man, that was really hot and I wanna do a lot more than that with you' or some shit. No, no, I gotta look at this with my brain, not my dick. My brain says I'm in love with Cas and doing a 'no strings attatched' thing with him is a great way to get hurt. My dick though? My dick wants to see Cas naked as much as possible.
He entertains the idea for a moment that Castiel might feel the same way. Maybe Cas is in love with him, too. He shakes his head, clearing the thought away like an Etch-A-Sketch. Why the hell would someone as awesome as Cas be in love with a fucked up mess like Dean? Can angels even feel love like that? They're friends and that's enough.
Friends that masturbated together. Dean's brain helpfully supplies—or maybe that was his dick talking again—and he heads down the hall back to the Dean Cave. When he arrives, it's empty.
Typical.