#magicfingers

Chapter: The Greatest Thing You'll Ever Learn

“This place is a relic,” Cas said as he stood aside, holding the door open for Dean to file past with two stuffed army green canvas duffles in hand; a lot of clothes and rags needed washing. The place could’ve smelled better. It could also have smelled much worse. A privacy wall—drywall and wood laminate to about waist height and frosted, warped glass squares from there on up—jutted about five feet out into the room. The motel was music-themed, with a little framed Elvis kitsch on the walls. Horrendous brownish wallpaper that had probably once been closer to red and orange covered the walls. Two queen size beds.

“Un-frickin’-believable. There is an order to the universe,” Dean quipped, sounding like a kid at Christmas as he dumped their bags onto the extra bed.

Castiel fixed Dean with a baffled, quizzical look. Digging into his back pocket for his spare change, Dean flopped himself down on the far bed, slipping a pair of quarters into a coin meter that read:

Enjoy

Magic Fingers!

QUARTERS ONLY

Still only 25 cents for 15 mins!

Tingling Relaxation and Ease

The smile on Dean’s face widened in time with the warm-up of the bed’s motors. “Awww yeahhh. That’s the ticket. Ha-ha!” he declared, his voice warbling with the motion of the bed.

Amused, Cas tossed his overcoat and jacket onto the second bed, undoing his cuffs, taking his eyes off Dean for no more than a few moments all the while.

Dean opened his eyes and turned his head Cas’ way, not bothering to lift it from the fluffy down pillow in the slightest. He jumped his eyebrows up playfully, unabashed with his intentions. “Whatcha think?”

Wearing a smile that screamed ‘mischief’, Cas sauntered over as he undid his tie, threading it out from under his collar with a sound approaching a snap. “I think I need a shower...” Castiel clapped one hand against the inside of Dean’s ankle, taking an unmistakably sensual hold of him for an instant, dragging his leg a few inches over on his way past. “and so do you.”

Dean propped himself up on his elbows with a grin on, keeping eyes on Cas’ backside as it disappeared behind the ajar bathroom door. The rise and fall of Cas’ backside cheeks with every step left Dean biting into his lower lip with one canine tooth, remembering vividly what it felt like to have been in there only hours ago. He grudgingly peeled himself off the pillow and covers as though having to extricate himself from quicksand. All things, in time, Dean mused silently, glancing at the paltry supply of quarters in hand. And first things first...

~

The plumbing in the bathroom squealed to life, and water splashed loud against the bottom of the bathtub as Dean picked up their room key from the rickety table by the door and left, locking the door behind him.

Dean stood outside the bathroom, his stare fixed on his hand resting on the doorknob. Despite what he wanted, hesitation still managed to get the better of him for a few moments that seemed much longer than they were. Closing his eyes, he took a breath, consciously sending his fears out with the exhale. He stepped into the bathroom, greeted by the sight of Castiel standing under the running water, hanging his head as he rinsed suds away, and his fingers worked at relaxing tension in his neck then lower back. Dean latched the door closed behind him. He saw the moment Cas’ head cocked toward him, the corner of his lips turning up. The angel’s eyes were closed, and still, he knew who was in the room with him.

Dean’s reservations melted away. One hand braced against the ceramic tile, Castiel stood calmly still as Dean climbed into the close quarters of the shower with him. As he moved his head out of the stream of water and wiped water clear of his eyes, Cas found himself stopped by a hand on his shoulder blade before he could turn around. Dean’s arms slipped under Cas’; hands with fingers spread moved over the angel’s chest and stomach. Clamping his chin down over Cas’ shoulder, Dean pulled him into his chest, putting himself in the showerhead’s path.

The hand on Cas’ stomach slid lower, fingers curling in to run his nails through the trail of wavy hair that flowed together under the navel and joined up with the thicker tract surrounding his soft-no-longer cock. Dean parted his fingers, two and two, pressing firmly down on either side of the seraph’s organ. A soft grunt, lopsided grin, and a backward jerk of the pelvis told Dean he’d struck a nerve. He let his fingers knead at where he’d found it. Cas laid his head back and to the side, against Dean’s, done with fighting the heaving breaths he wanted to take. Dean’s fingertips rolled hard over the right spot, sending a spasm of pleasure down Cas’s leg.

Castiel turned on Dean, ensuring their cocks stood side by side between them as he pulled and locked the man into a surprising kiss with a hand around back of his head. Dean’s hands quickly took up residence on top of his buttcheeks pressing divots into Cas’ flesh, holding their hips together hard enough to keep grinding pressure on their wet, rigid shafts. Cas’ tongue darted over his lips, seeking access, and Dean gave it to him.

Christ, that tongue had reach when the angel wanted it to. Curling around his in whatever way it could manage, tickling a hot spot on the roof of his mouth. It was a genuine tickle, and Dean couldn’t help the muffled laugh that burst out of him. Or the downright electric buzzing feeling lighting up the nerves wrapped around the back of his neck and head. He broke away, taking in a breath he desperately needed, keeping their foreheads together, his lips never more than an inch away from Cas’.

“Wow.” Dean could safely say he’d never been kissed like that before. Blinking, he smoothed back Cas’ wet hair, watching the seraph roll his eyes closed as he leaned into his hand only to open them moments later and meet his gaze with a piercing innocence. Staring into those bright blue eyes, Dean admitted something to himself, and by extension, Castiel—whom he had no doubt was seeing through him the way he often did. While ‘talented tongue’ gave Cas his due, it wasn’t just that. Sex, with him, mattered... in ways it never had with anyone—ever. In ways he hadn’t thought it could before last night. Dean frowned. “Cas. I... uh—”

The angel smiled his closed, knowing smile. “More of the same?”