Chapter Text
The night air is chilly and Dean shudders where he stands outside the club waiting for Benny. Dean doesn’t know what the fuck he is so late for, but he’s getting pissed off just standing here like a chump waiting for his friend while everyone else giggle their way past him.
It’s Friday night, another weekend started after a long week and Dean is so fucking ready to just get a drink and have some fun. Backbreaking work at the volunteer firefighter station combined with a few extra shifts at the auto shop toiling on old clunkers that Dean had no business taking has really beat him down. Well, the money will be good in the end but that doesn’t stop him from being tired both body and soul right now.
He glances at his phone to see absolutely no new messages from Benny and then throws a wink in the direction of some fine ladies who walk past him on their way to the club. They smirk at him, sashaying their hips unnecessarily and he feels that twinge inside him. The one that tells him it’s time he finds himself someone to spend the night with. Dean isn’t one for relationships and all that shit, not like his little brother Sam who has been with the same girl for about a lifetime now, but he would be lying if he said he isn’t interested in sharing a bed once in a while.
In fact, those women looked too fine to pass up on and Dean is just about to turn and walk after them when his phone goes off.
“Hey,” he more or less snaps when he answers, annoyance clear in his tone.
“Hey brother,” Benny says on the other end and fuck, Dean can already hear in his voice before Benny even continues that the night is ruined. “I’m sorry, my car broke down.”
“Take the bus.”
“Dude,” Benny has the galls to chuckle. “It like broke-broke. I gotta fix it before work on Monday.”
Dean rolls his eyes. Music and laughter come from the club up the street, and above him he can see the first snowflakes of the season blowing past the streetlamps. It’s so fucking tempting to just hang up on Benny and go to the club on his own. Wouldn’t be the first time anyway. And he needs that damn drink or something, needs to take the edge off.
But no matter how much of an asshole Dean can be, he’s not that kind of douche.
“Want help?”
Benny sucks on his teeth and Dean waits with bated breath, hoping for the answer he wants.
“Nah,” Benny eventually says and Dean feels his body sag with relief. He has spent the whole damn week fixing cars and he just now got the grease stains off his hands. He’s not keen on adding more just yet. “I think I can handle it.”
“Well don’t change your mind and call me later,” Dean retorts dryly. “I plan on getting drunk as fuck.”
Benny chuckles. “I figured. Have fun and have a beer for me too.”
“Yeah,” Dean mutters. “Next time, huh?”
“Of course, brother.”
Whatever. Dean pouts to himself after they have hung up, considering his options. He knows very well that he can have fun by himself and if things go the way he wants, he wouldn’t be alone too long anyway. But he only feels annoyed now, and indecisive. Maybe he should have gone to Benny’s to help him? That way he at least would have had some company.
“Fuck it,” he mutters, scuffing his boot against the ground. Yeah, fuck it. Guess he’ll just go home and have some beer on the couch, maybe watch some TV. He is behind on every show ever anyway, maybe he just ought to rest.
He looks lamentingly at the club, feeling irritated and pathetic.
“Excuse me?”
Dean turns, confused and surprised to find a man standing behind him. He looks about Dean’s age, maybe a few years older, sharp in a three piece suit and trench coat, thick black hair combed back, and a kind half-smile making his face look handsome and inviting.
“Uh, me?” Dean asks stupidly because even though there are people milling about the club, he and the man are standing pretty much to themselves. But fucking hell, why would someone who looks like that want to talk to a blue-collar guy like Dean? Maybe he thinks Dean is working as a valet or something.
“Yes,” the man says, his smiling widening. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping but would it be right of me to assume that your plans for the evening were cut short?”
Dean might need a fucking crowbar to unstick his eyebrows from his hairline but damn, now he’s even more confused.
“I, uh—yeah I guess?”
The man tilts his head to the side, regarding Dean. He is actually just about Dean’s height but suddenly he feels taller. Maybe it’s his whole aura making Dean feel small, Dean doesn’t know but he sure as fuck doesn’t like it.
“Then, are you free for tonight?”
“Oh okay,” Dean holds up a hand, stopping the man. Okay, now he knows what this is about. “Yeah, no thanks I’m not interested.”
The man blinks but doesn’t look perturbed. “Wouldn’t you like to hear my proposal first?”
Dean snorts, putting his hands in his jacket pockets, huddling against the cold. “Please, I ain’t dumb enough to be getting mixed up with the mob or whatever. Thank you, but I don’t need a job.”
“Mob?” the man asks and then laughs a surprisingly intoxicating laughter. It’s kind of contagious but Dean tries his best to not even smile. “Gracious no,” the man shakes his head, grinning. “I was simply going to ask if you would like to engage in something of a more sexual nature,” he taps his own chest. “With me.”
Dean is so dumbfounded he doesn’t even know where to start with that. Truth be told, he has been straight his whole ass life but yes, he has been approached by guys before. But not like this.
“You think I’m a hooker or somethin’?” he almost snarls and the man tilts his head like that again. Like a fucking puppy.
“No,” he smiles indulgently. “I think you’re a handsome man who has an hour or so to spare, and I would very much like to suck your cock.”
Dean’s whole fucking body jerks and he looks wildly around them. This has to be Candid Camera or some shit like that. Things like this just don’t happen in real life.
“The fuck you on about?” he hisses, stepping close to the man. For what purpose he doesn’t know. Presumably to intimidate him for some reason, but most likely it’s because Dean doesn’t want to be discussing this so loudly and so publicly.
The man’s smile turns lecherous and his eyes darken as he leans in a little bit more. “I’m saying I’ll pay you sixty dollars if you’ll let me suck you off,” he stares right into Dean’s soul. “Or a hundred if you let me jerk off while I do it.”
Almost a full minute of stunned silence passes between them. Around them, the snow begins to fall harder, people walk by laughing and cheering about their party night, and the scent of the man’s cologne wraps around Dean’s senses.
“Do I look like I’m that desperate for money?” he eventually asks in a low tone; voice unsteady because what the fuck kind of offer is that?!
The man smirks. “No. But you look like you wouldn’t mind getting sucked good and well, and money is the cherry on top.”
Well damn. Not like Dean can argue that.
*****
They go to a hotel but fuck, Dean can’t remember which or what room the man leads him too. He’s still too stunned by the fact that he accepted the man’s request and now here he suddenly is, alone in a nice though admittedly generic hotel room.
The man turns to him as soon as he has flicked on some lights. Ambient light, maybe, but Dean isn’t in the right headspace to appreciate something like that. The man is certainly inviting, but Dean nonetheless feels hesitant.
“Do you want to take off your jacket?”
Dean clears his throat. “Um…”
He shrugs, as if righting his jacket on his shoulders. The man shakes his head, chuckling softly.
“I get it, but you don’t have to be nervous,” he takes off his trench coat and tosses it carelessly on the bed before retrieving one of the pillows and coming over to where Dean is standing in the small hall. “I won’t force you to do anything, and if you don’t want to take anything off, you don’t have to.” He smiles again, tilting his head like that. “I just thought you might get warm.”
Dean is already warm, for several reasons but yes, one of them is that he is inside with a winter jacket on.
“I, uh, okay.”
Fuck it, there’s a coat hanger literally within arm’s reach of where Dean is standing. He hangs his jacket there, barely moving from his spot. The man only smiles again before unceremoniously tossing the pillow to the floor between them.
“Tell me,” he says calmly. “Is your hesitance born from the fact that a stranger approached you for sex, or because I’m a man?”
“Both,” Dean answers staunchly. “I’m straight.”
The man nods. “Well, just to put your mind at ease: I promise I won’t try anything with you.” He reaches in and touches Dean lightly on his hip and to Dean’s surprise he doesn’t want to shove off the man’s hand. “I promise I will only touch your hips and thighs for purchase, and of course your cock and balls. For more pleasant reasons.”
Fuck, the way he says cock does something to Dean. He can feel his dick tingling and it’s that nice sensation before it starts taking a real interest in whatever is happening.
“That’s fine,” Dean mumbles. “Just, uh, I’m not gonna touch you or anything. No kissing either.”
The man’s eyes cut down to Dean’s lips for the slightest second. “Of course. Have you decided, then? Sixty or a hundred?”
Dean purses his lips. “I don’t mind you jerkin’ off if I don’t have to touch you. Hundred is good.”
Good money if nothing else. Might mean he’ll at least be able to treat himself to some good meat next time he goes grocery shopping.
The man positively beams and okay, that’s a good look on him.
“Great,” he says and reaches into his suit jacket to a pocket from where he pulls a wallet.
Dean can see that he has way more than a hundred dollars tucked in there and the fleeting thought of asking for more is just that: fleeting. A hundred dollars is already a decent amount of money, good enough since it doesn’t seem like Dean has to do anything other than let this man suck his dick. Well, he does consider the fact that he might not get hard because let’s be real. The man is objectively handsome, Dean is smart enough to see that, but he is straight so maybe his dick won’t work.
On the other hand he hasn’t had any good sex in a while and his dick is already sort of invested so what the hell, right? Dean has never been a leap of faith kind of guy but maybe he ought to be this once.
“Thanks,” he mumbles when the money has exchanged hands and he has pocketed the bills. He feels kind of seedy but in a sexy way, strangely. Maybe because he knows he isn’t a hooker and he knows the man understands that too.
“My name is Castiel,” the man says then, tone friendly. “But you can call me Cas.” He leers. “It’s not a prerequisite, but I like when my partners say my name.”
Dean swallows. “Gotcha. I’m Dean.”
“Great,” the man—Cas—says and promptly slinks down to his knees.
Just—fuck—just kneels in front of Dean as if someone looking like that, in an expensive suit and everything, has any business kneeling for anyone, let alone a dumbass like Dean.
He feels a rush at the sight, a sense of power and superiority washing over him and okay, fuck yeah okay, Dean can see himself enjoying this after all. His dick sure as fuck likes what he sees and when Cas dives right in and starts opening Dean’s belt and jeans as if he simply can’t wait any longer, arousal curls lazily around Dean’s balls.
“Eager, are we?” he says gruffly and watches with dark eyes how Cas’ body seems to react to either his voice or his words.
“You know,” Cas murmurs, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. “You’re free to touch me as much as you want. I don’t mind things like face fucking.”
Dean grins to hide his surprise, feeling more arousal go through him, like a heavy fog blanketing his body. Pleasant and cloying at the same time.
“I bet you don’t.”
“Just don’t hurt me,” Cas says and looks down again, at what his hands are doing. Opening Dean’s jeans just enough that he’ll be able to reach in and grab Dean’s dick and balls.
“Of course not,” Dean snorts. He isn’t that kind of guy and anyway, if he was, the time for that has passed.
If he didn’t jump the man on the way to the hotel, or when they got alone in the room, or even when he saw Cas’ fat wallet, then he sure as fuck isn’t going to do it now that they’re here. And Cas is about to suck him off.
He’s already half-hard when Cas frees him from his underwear and he can’t help but smirk at Cas’ hungry stare. He knows he isn’t too big but he thinks he’s a decent size and he has usually gotten positive reactions from the women he has slept with. And apparently that applies to men like Cas too, go figure.
“You’re already hard,” Cas moans then and more or less plants his face against the base of Dean’s dick, mouth open as he breathes Dean in.
Suddenly Dean is aware of two things. Any mouth is a good mouth as far as his dick is concerned, and he hasn’t showered since this morning. Fuck, he has to stink.
“Maybe I should just go wash up,” he murmurs when Cas audibly sniffs him.
“No,” Cas groans. “You’re perfect.”
And before Dean can even gather his goddamn wits, Cas has licked his semi into his mouth. It’s wet and hot and Dean’s hips feel like melting. Fuck yeah, he loves getting blown. Looking down, he can see Cas with his nose buried in the coarse hair at the base of Dean’s dick, an expression of pure bliss on his handsome face.
“Hungry for it, hm darlin’?” he drawls without thinking, brushing a thumb over Cas’ cheekbone.
It makes Cas groan deeply and Dean hisses at the pleasure that blooms in his gut, traveling like sparkles up his spine and making his scalp tingle. Fuck. Guess Cas is the kind of cockslut that likes any dick as long as they work, size and scent be damned. Or maybe Dean’s dick is just that good?
Yeah, he thinks as he watches Cas pull out, only to plunge back in, choking himself on Dean’s hard dick. Yeah, it’s definitely his dick that’s good enough to render this man delirious with want. Goddamn, it’s such a rush. Cas sounded so eloquent earlier, conducting himself like an important man, like a well-educated gentleman. And now here he is, clearly enjoying sucking the life out of Dean’s dick.
He has his hands on Dean’s hips, leaning slightly on him, fingers framing Dean’s crotch as his thumbs brush against Dean’s throbbing balls. The inside of his mouth is soft and inviting, and the way he curls his tongue around Dean’s dick, prodding the slit at the swollen head, feels fucking divine. There’s a desperation in Cas’ movements that doesn’t yet translate to the way he swallows Dean’s whole length but Dean can feel it there, simmering under the surface and it feels so fucking good. Knowing that he, that his dick, makes this man feel good makes pleasure pump through Dean.
It has always been like that for him, when he has sex, that he gets pleasure from seeing his partner get off on him, but there’s just something about this situation, the covert seediness of it, that makes it better. It’s sloppy and urgent and Cas seems caught between wanting to savor the moment and his yearning for Dean to come down his throat.
In his eagerness, Cas does a little abortive motion with his head that pushes Dean that last bit down, so that the head lodges at the back of Cas’ throat. It makes Cas moan wantonly and Dean’s whole damn body sags against the wall.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he grunts, putting a hand on the back of Cas’ head. “I know you want it bad but don’t actually fucking choke yourself.”
His hips tremble and he gets an insane urge to thrust against Cas when the other man looks up, meeting Dean’s eyes while his face is stuffed with Dean’s dick. Cas’ throat makes a clicking sound and Dean feels a swoop in his stomach when Cas tries and mostly fails to swallow with Dean so deep down.
Fuck his dick is hard now. Way harder than he ever thought he would be with a dude but fuck it, there’s just something about the wanton way Cas gives himself over to pleasure that does something to Dean. It makes arousal flare hotly inside him and he feels a kind of earnest longing, a need to fill up this man.
A primal want to own.
“Fuck,” he grits his teeth, unable to stop his hips from thrusting shallowly.
Cas moans deeply, and it sounds garbled as he continues to bob his head on Dean’s dick. Up and down, faster, sucking harder and shit, fucking shit, he is pawing at his own crotch now. He wants to jerk off, Dean realizes with a kind of explosion of pleasure. Sucking Dean off made this man want to pleasure himself.
He doesn’t look, mainly because he doesn’t want to, but also because he can’t really focus now anyway. Besides, he doesn’t need to look. He can sense it in the way Cas’ body moves all of a sudden. A jerky kind of motion that indicates that he is stripping his dick fast and hard.
Arousal burns inside Dean, emanating from his crotch, his balls tight now and his dick so fucking hard it’ll be a goddamn surprise if Cas doesn’t come away with bruises inside his mouth. And fuck, his mouth. So hot and wet, so sloppy now, slurping noises mixing with Dean’s labored breathing and the sound of his blood rushing in his ears.
It’s like a snap inside him, like a rubber band reaching its limits and then suddenly there he is, at the precipice, at the edge waiting and willing to tumble over. He feels it gathering, feels his whole body going taut, his dick expanding as if it has any business getting any harder.
“I’m coming inside, darlin’,” he grunts, one hand on Cas’ cheek halting his movements.
He digs in his thumb against the side of Cas’ mouth, prying it open just the slightest. Cas looks at him with unseeing eyes, drool running down his chin as he shifts his tongue around, prodding and licking Dean’s dick. He looks completely out of it and the only thing moving on him is his hand, continuously stroking his dick. If Dean had looked, he would have found it red and leaking, but he doesn’t, instead too focused on his own pleasure.
A choked off groan escapes him as he starts thrusting shallowly again, rubbing the head of his dick against the roof of Cas’ mouth, one thumb pressing down on Cas’ tongue to open his mouth wider.
“You be good and take it for me,” he presses out, pleasure making his body burn, sweat beading.
Cas makes a little hiccupping, needy sound and then Dean feels the other man’s body jerk. It’s a jerk all men know. That telltale signal that the body is caving in, the pleasure having successfully taken over. And shit, it’s all because of Dean.
It’s all he needs, that final push that lets him sail off the cliff as well. He tries to say something more, wants to be suave in this moment where Cas has shown him such grace, but fuck if he can. All he accomplishes is a sharp intake of air and a little grunt and then he’s fucking flooding Cas’ mouth. Deep down his throat, all the way inside, giving the man as much as Dean can give and then a little extra because it was that fucking good.
Cas moans, sounding so fucking happy it sends another jolt of desire through Dean, and he slumps back against the wall while Cas tenderly but eagerly licks him clean.
“Damn, dude,” he murmurs after a moment.
He is startled when Cas opens his eyes and they are coherent all of a sudden. He pulls off Dean’s softening dick, smirking to himself, and when he rises to his feet it feels as if he towers over Dean who is still leaning against the wall.
“That was just as good as I thought it would be,” he says cheerily, his already rumbly voice only a little wrecked. By Dean’s dick. Being lodged down there.
Fuck.
“Yeah, you seemed to, uh,” Dean waves to Cas’ crotch where his dick is still hanging out of his suit pants. “Really enjoy it or whatever.”
“I did,” Cas states enthusiastically, as if they’re talking about literally anything else. “And don’t worry, I seem to have managed to miss your boot,” he points down and Dean only now looks at the floor between them. And there, in front of the pillow Cas had used to cushion his knees, are the clear stains of evidence of Cas’ enthusiasm. “I got a little carried away,” he chuckles and steps to the side, going to the bathroom.
“Uh-huh,” Dean harrumphs, wondering how he should feel about that as he listens to Cas turning on the faucet. Disgusted, he supposes, but they’re just globs of come, just like his own.
“I was supposed to catch it in my hand, I usually do that,” Cas states, still sounding like they’re talking about something completely normal. Or maybe this is normal and Dean should just calm the fuck down. “But I kind of lost myself,” his eyes linger on Dean’s dick and fuck it, there’s a goddamn tingle in his spine again. “Anyway, thank you.”
With that, he kneels down and wipes off his come stains with some paper he took from the bathroom. Dean stands there like a chump, dick out and legs spread, while Cas is basically in the same position he was in a few minutes ago, when everything felt glorious.
An insane urge to grab Cas and shove his dick back inside the man’s welcoming, greedy mouth comes over him but he of course remains still until Cas is finished. Only then does he go into the bathroom and clean himself up.
When he comes back again, Cas is standing by the bed and his trench coat, rifling through his wallet.
“I have to be honest with you,” he says without even looking up. “Without exaggerating, you were the best I’ve had in a long time.”
Dean swallows. The way Cas can shift from this well-spoken, calm guy to the absolute cockslut from before, and then back again is both unnerving and intriguing and he doesn’t know what to do with that.
“Thanks, I guess?” he throws Cas a grin for good measure when he looks at Dean. “You were pretty decent yourself.”
Was fucking fantastic but Dean isn’t ready to admit all that.
Cas’ beaming smile throws Dean for another loop. “You know what they say. When you love something…” he makes a little Tada-gesture with his hand and Dean has to suppress a smile.
“So what? It’s like a kink or something? To suck off strangers?”
“I’d say it’s exactly a kink,” Cas states confidently, without a shred of embarrassment. Dean envies him at that moment. “Of course, it doesn’t have to be a stranger. I just like sucking cock.”
Dean clicks his tongue, contemplating Cas while he looks through his wallet again, clearly searching for something.
“Why not get a boyfriend or whatever then?” he shrugs when Cas tilts his head, looking confused. “I mean, then you’d have free access to a dick, right?”
“Oh yes, that would be nice,” Cas nods, smiling. “But I’m a very busy man. Work takes up too much of my time so it’s much easier to engage in quick little things like this.”
Dean nods. “I get it, I guess.” Well he doesn’t guess, he knows exactly what Cas is talking about, but he feels weird about relating too much to this man. They’re just too different, and not just because of the dick-loving aspect, and it’s making Dean tense. Or maybe it’s the fact that he liked seeing this man ruffled that’s making him anxious as fuck, who knows? “And hey, if it works for you then I say go for it.”
“I’m happy to hear that,” Cas grins. “Because I wouldn’t mind having another go at your cock specifically.”
“Uh…”
“I mean,” Cas chuckles, waving his hand. “Nothing serious. Just if you feel like getting a good sucking again some time you can call me and maybe we can arrange something? Oh but I seem to have run out of business cards,” he huffs, throwing his absolutely loaded wallet on the bed and turning his back to it as he goes over to the desk opposite the bed.
Dean stares long and hard at that wallet. It would be so easy to just nab it and make a run for it. Cas seems like he’s in good shape but Dean is a pretty recent runner and he is pretty confident he could out-run Cas. Because damn, there is a lot of money in that wallet. Either Cas is actually rich as fuck and he doesn’t care even if Dean takes it or he is a careless dumbass. Well, he did invite a random stranger to a secluded hotel room, maybe it’s a little bit of both.
Dean closes his eyes for the barest second, collecting himself. He isn’t the kind of guy who would steal something from anyone so the temptation isn’t really there. But still, he thinks when he looks up to see Cas studying him through the mirror above the desk, it’s a part of Cas’ character and motives worth thinking about.
“Here,” Cas says then, smiling when their eyes meet. He turns, holding out a paper to Dean. “Have my number.”
It’s indeed a number, with Cas’ name written above it. Dean takes the note and looks at it for a moment, trying to figure out if the number seems legit or not.
“I probably won’t call,” he says but pockets the note anyway. He brushes the hundred dollar bill when he does and feels a rush inside him.
“I’ll be happy if you do,” Cas says, still smiling slightly.
Dean nods. “Probably won’t, though.” Cas nods as if he is agreeing but somehow Dean feels as if he’s not. “Okay, I’ll be going then.”
“Do you know your way back from here?”
“Dude,” Dean snorts. “It was only a couple of blocks.”
Truth be told, no Dean doesn’t know his way back since he had walked here in a goddamn trance but he isn’t about to fucking admit that. Instead he simply slips out of the room, follows the exit signs and turns on Google Maps as soon as he is outside.
Turns out he wasn’t wrong and it is only a few blocks from where the club is, not that it matters much since Dean isn’t going back there. He considers it, thoughts straying to his newfound money, and then he considers going to his favorite bar instead and getting something to drink straight from the tap. But he feels illogically lonely and the weather has picked up too, the wind blowing harder and carrying more snow than Dean cares to acknowledge.
With a huff, he starts walking to where he parked his car but is stopped in his tracks when his phone dings with an incoming message. Irrationally, his mind first goes to Cas, as if he had gotten Dean’s number in return and would be texting him immediately. Well, he did seem thirsty for cock so maybe that wouldn’t have been too far-fetched if Dean had actually left his number. But he didn’t so he doesn’t know what he is feeling disappointed for when he sees it is only Benny. Did he want to bust his balls this soon again, even though they feel like wrung-out peaches, or is he disappointed that Cas didn’t text about getting a beer or something instead? What a dumb fucking idea.
No, instead it’s Benny who happily declares his car fixed. Good job Ben, it only took about two hours and a blowjob. Dean stops to text his friend back, something congratulatory because he is happy for Benny. He knows all too well how it is when cars break down and you’re fucking stranded, and not only because it’s part of his job to fix messes like that.
Suddenly, looking at Benny’s happy texts, Dean doesn’t feel like being alone anymore and he knows a quick question will fix that but also knows he won’t ask. No matter the fact that Benny stood him up tonight, his friend is always there for him when he really needs him but Dean can’t bring himself to ask tonight. Maybe it’s his shame over not immediately jumping on helping Benny, or maybe it’s a sense of that seediness from earlier that’s seeping back and making him feel less sexy now that he is alone, but something stops him from asking Benny if he can come over to celebrate.
It’s fine, he thinks as he pockets his phone and makes his way back to his apartment instead. He should really go home, have a shower and maybe think about his life choices, be a grown-up and all that jazz. And maybe in the morning he won’t feel as bad about using the money, or as nervous about looking at Cas’ phone number.