Chapter Text
"Mr Novak-" Cas didn't hear the rest of the sentence, because his mind was on Dean, or rather, on Dean's arousal. When the other person felt strong emotions, the other would be able to sense it, and right now, Dean was fucking horny as shit.
Cas sighed, "Yes Sir, everything is completed, you don't need to do further paperwork, everything is under control." But the guy didn't stop talking. He. Just. Kept. Complaining.
The client was blissfully unaware of his rapidly hardening erection underneath the spotless fake wooden table.
Father help me.
----
Dean stroked his cock slowly, and began to moan, softly at first, and then louder. Completely letting go of his inhibitions. He knew Cas could hear it, because now, he was more turned on than ever, and he could feel his effect on Cas through the bond. He could literally feel Castiel's frustration at his stupid fucking nit-picky client, who was groaning on at something for what seems like forever.
Dean had just come back from a hunt, Sam was passed out in the other room. Sam knew what was going on between Dean and Cas, he saw the glances, the frequent touches, he'd even heard the moans, in fact he'd wanted a room at the other end of the dingy motel, thank you very much. But no. They'd been booked. How does a dank, damp, dirty ass, stinkin' fuckin' motel room like this get booked? Sam had no idea.
Dean could hear James Clarkendon, yapping endlessly into Cas' ear while Castiel palmed himself through the fabric of his tailored slacks.
"Mm, you feel that, Cas? I'm so wet for you," He touched the tip of his cock, shiny with precome, and shuddered against the blankets, "Cas, baby, c'mere, I want you." He created a tunnel with his callused right hand, and fucked into it slowly, rolling his hips the way he knew Cas liked, imagining his hand was instead Castiel's perfect ass, Castiel with his stomach pressed flat against the bed, just for Dean.
----
Shit, did he just moan out loud?
"What was that Mr Novak?" The client looked at Castiel, eyebrows raised in question,
"Oh, uh nothing, I need the bathroom, excuse me, I'll be back shortly." Castiel dropped his suitcase on the restaurant's black chair, and hurried to the bathroom, fighting the urge to rub his straining erection the entire way there.
He got there, and locked himself in a cubicle. Shit.
Dean was still fucking into his hands, just with more vigour, and Cas could tell he was getting closer and closer to orgasm.
Dean's cock was chafing against the unmade sheets, but he didn't care, the tip of his swollen manhood was red now, aching and too sensitive to be touched.
He touched it anyways, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the head, aching for release, but wanting to tease Cas.
"Cas, baby, I don't want you to touch yourself, let's see if you can come from just knowing I'm going to, hm? What do you think?" Dean's voice was cruel, and Cas shuddered, there were... loopholes, he couldn't touch himself, but he could rut against something. The innocent toilet paper roll was above the seat. He grabbed it, unzipped himself and began to slowly thrust his hips against the roll, his cock growing more and more with each thrust.
Dean began to whimper, he was close, so so so close, but he didn't cum because he couldn't, not just from touching the head, and yet he kept going, his breathing catching every few seconds.
"Do you hear me? Can you hear me pant for you, Cas?" He whispered, tugging at his balls every few strokes.
Castiel groaned in response, he could hear Dean pray for him, use the holy connection for sin, and oh, it was delicious, he could feel Dean's lust radiate from every corner of his mind, it encompassed him, and without warning, he began to ejaculate.
He moaned out loud, the walls reverberated the sound back at him while his cock steadily shot out sticky white liquid onto the paper, with no intention of stopping, his high had ended, but the physical sensations had not, so he continued to revel in the pleasure/pain that his sensitive cock was being exposed to.
He felt Dean's peak coming, too soon in Dean's mind, but that was fine, he enjoyed edging himself. And so Castiel did not come out of the bathroom for another twenty minutes while Dean giggled and smirked nastily.
Dean had grabbed a bottle of lube out of the small wooden dresser, and had slicked himself up, ready to probe himself with his fingers. "Do you like this Cas?" He had said, but he had known the answer, "Do you like it when I spread myself for you? Do you like it when I fuck myself with my fingers, Castiel? When I imagine it's your cock grinding into my asshole, so wet and hot and tight and open for you?"
Cas was hard again, the erect tissue in his hand proof of that. He stopped grinding. He just let Dean's prayers and thoughts envelop his celestial brain in a cloud of lust, so thick he couldn't even think.
Dean was just slowly, ever so slowly pumping his fingers in and out of his asshole while laying flat on his stomach, Cas could feel how exposed Dean felt, he could feel the pure lust coursing through his veins, Cas felt every single twitch of muscle, every single time he stroked his prostate.
Dean began to whimper, muffling his sounds with the starched white pillow, "Cas, Cas, Cas, I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum."
Dean pumped his fingers faster and faster and added a third to ride the wave of pleasure higher and higher, he thrust his aching cock against the sheets, desperate for release, "Cas."
Dean keened when he came all over the sheets, fists gripping the blankets and breathing laboured and ragged.
Cas became aware that he came. Along with Dean, just feeling everything he felt, he began to keen because he knew Dean would understand,
"Was I good for you, Cas? Was I? Did you cum, Castiel?" Dean gasped when Castiel appeared beside him, grasped his hand, and licked his fingers clean.
Cas showed up before the man, flushed and sweaty.
"You were perfect, sweetheart, perfect."