Title: Befitting
Author: The Grrl
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for this spn_kinkmeme prompt: Dean had no idea a suit could be so sexy until Castiel came into the scene.

***

Dean hears the soft flutter but doesn't bother to turn around, he just continues stuffing dirty clothes into his duffle bag. "Too late, Cas, I took care of it. No more werewolves. You can go back to whatever you were doing."

"Dean," Cas says, quiet yet insistent.

"Seriously," Dean says, turning to Cas. "You can just--" He wants to say fuck off, but when he sees Cas, the words get stuck in his throat.

The trench coat is gone. The dark suit is gone. Cas is outfitted in a new suit, lighter in tone, with a cream-colored shirt and gray tie.

"I found the alpha," Cas tells him. "And killed it. It was in a warehouse a half mile away."

"And you couldn't--you couldn't just pop on over and let me know?" High on adrenaline, Dean is still pissed. But he can't stop staring. Cas looks like some kind of fucking movie star, from his fluffy hair right down to his shiny black shoes.

Cas steps closer. "Even with my powers, it is not easy to take on an alpha, Dean. I came as soon as I could, but you had already finished with them."

"Okay. Okay, I'm glad you slayed the dragon," Dean says. His righteous anger isn't fading. If anything, he's even more irritated at having the cause of it taken away. He scowls, then looks Cas over and shakes his head. "What the hell, Cas?"

Cas frowns in puzzlement.

"The suit," Dean points out. "What's with the makeover?"

"This?" Cas spreads his arms, looks down at his body and sighs. "Balthazar. He refused to talk with me until I allowed him to dress me in what he described as a 'proper suit'."

"Balthazar? You're kidding me, right?" Dean can't quite wrap his head around it. He wonders if Balthazar simply zapped the suit onto Cas or if they went shopping together. Either way, it's freaky-weird.

"He destroyed my other clothing. Said it pained him to look at it." Castiel gives a very human-like shrug.

"Well you look weird," Dean insists, irritated all over again. He's used to seeing Cas either in his trench coat or nothing at all. This suit business is unsettling.

"Am I wearing it wrong?" Cas looks down at himself, still confused.

"No." Dean pushes off the desk and approaches Cas. The suit looks even better close up, fitting his shoulders perfectly, tailored to define his narrow waist. The fabric is a fine soft weave--Dean finds himself touching the lapels without making the conscious decision to do so. "You're wearing it just fine."

"And yet it is weird?" Cas asks.

"When I say 'weird'," Dean explains with a huff, "I mean 'good', okay?"

"That doesn't make any sense, Dean." Cas's jaw juts out in a mixture of defiance and indignation. "You always mean 'weird' when you say 'weird'."

"Don't tell me what I mean." Dean gets right up in Cas's face, forcing Cas to tilt his head up to maintain eye contact. He tugs the lapels of Cas's jacket then slips his hands underneath, trailing his fingers down over Cas's ribs, over sleek, soft fabric.

He's just killed five werewolves, one of them lunging so close he could feel the stale breath on his cheek, all the while wondering where the hell Cas was. It wasn't his fault he didn't know the alpha was around, or that Cas was taking care of it and suits aren't supposed to look this damn good on a person.

Dean reaches for Cas's tie and tugs it to one side, trying to making it seem more like Cas's crappy old polyester tie, but it doesn't help. Cas still looks like some kind of slick GQ model.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas is radiating irritation now and Dean finds it oddly satisfying.

He presses closer and Cas doesn't back away. Cas never does. So Dean kisses him. Just a brief touch of lips but Dean stays right there, nose brushing Cas's cheek, breathing him in. "I'm doing this," he murmurs, lips barely touching Cas's lips.

Cas nods. He kisses Dean back with the same gentleness. "I approve of this," he tells Dean.

Dean chuckles, his anger finally fading. As he slides his hands around Cas's waist, Cas kisses him again, more firmly this time, lips parting, and it's all still new enough that Dean gets a thrill out of the simple fact he's kissing an angel. Kissing Cas. That he can make the shiny new sheriff of heaven sigh and lean against him, hands gripping his shoulders tight as they kiss.

And when Dean slides his hand down Cas's front--over the waistband of his snazzy new slacks-- and onto his crotch, he can feel Cas is getting hard, after just a few kisses.

"Dean." Cas breaks off the kiss, cheek touching Dean's. His voice is soft with a hint of pleading as presses into Dean's hand.

Dean strokes Cas, feeling him grow to full hardness through the thin fabric and it's fucking hot, the way Cas moves against him. Cas's mouth covers his again, kissing desperately now and Dean wants him, wants to do things to him, wants to mess up his spiffy new suit, scuff up his shiny shoes and wrinkle his shirt and stain his tie and ruin his cuffs--

Cas grunts and pulls back, eyes focused on Dean as he begins to slide his suit jacket from his shoulders.

"No." Dean grabs the lapels and tugs the jacket back up.

"No?" Cas says with surprise. "Dean, we are going to have sex, right?"

"Yes, we are," Dean tells him.

Cas begins to remove his jacket again, and Dean once again pulls it back up over his shoulders.

"Dean, I don't understand--"

Dean shuts him up with a kiss, putting a hand on Cas's ass and squeezing. Then says, "Come here, " and steps back, taking Cas by the hand and tugging him across the room.

"Where are we going?" Cas follows but the expression his face is enough to make Dean laugh--one part bewilderment, two parts frustration.

Dean brings Cas over to the desk and backs him up onto it. For once Cas doesn't resist, he sits on the edge of the desk and eyes Dean expectantly. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure sex is most effectively done while naked."

"Sometimes," Dean says, spreading Cas's legs so that he can stand in between them.

He leans in for a kiss, but Cas's lips are set in a straight line and it takes some nuzzling to convince Cas to kiss him back, as if Cas isn't really sure that Dean means it. To prove that he does, Dean unfastens Cas's pants and slides his hand down into the warmth.

Something is not quite right.

Dean pushes the tails of Cas's shirt aside, then tugs Cas's pants further down and discovers that not only is Cas wearing a new suit, but he's also the proud owner of gray silk boxers.

"Balthazar is picking your underwear now?" Dean asks, amused.

Cas's eyes shift to the floor. "They feel very good." He glances back up at Dean, eyes crinkling at the corners with a hint of a smile.

Dean presses his palm down over Cas's silk-covered cock, rubbing the slippery fabric, feeling the warmth seep through. "Yup," Dean nods. "They do."

Cas bites his lip as Dean rubs, eyes growing unfocused. Dean sidles in closer and kisses him, lips moving over Cas's cheek and down onto his neck. He sniffs and then licks the collar of Cas's shirt--fine, so it's a little weird, maybe he has a bit of an obsession over these damn clothes and he's not really sure how he feels about an 'old friend' dressing Cas but Cas is making small noises deep in his throat, hips moving restlessly as Dean reaches past the waistband of his boxers and pulls Cas's cock free.

When Cas reaches for him and tries to unzip his jeans, Dean bats Cas's hand away. He's busy, damn it.

"Dean." It's a command now.

Which Dean ignores. Instead he squeezes Cas's cock, rubbing his thumb over the head. Cas makes a low noise and reaches for Dean again, hands skittering over Dean's chest.

One last kiss and then Dean puts a hand on Cas's shoulder, holding him back as he strokes Cas's cock, sure and steady. Cas glances up at Dean questioningly.

"Let me just watch, okay?" Dean asks.

Cas frowns and Dean's pretty sure he doesn't get it, but then Cas leans back, his hands on the desk, legs spread and he's fucking gorgeous, suit jacket falling open and slipping off one shoulder, tie askew, shirt pushed up, pants pushed down and his red, thick cock sliding through Dean's fist. The head is wet and shiny with pre-come and Dean rubs his palm over it, slicking it up.

A sharp moan and Cas twists his hips, pushing into Dean's hand. He raises his eyes to meet Dean's and Dean feels it the intensity of Cas's gaze, right down to his toes. His own cock is hard and aching but he ignores it as Cas's breath quickens, cock growing stiffer and then Cas's entire body tenses up and he comes with a soft moan, eyes squeezed shut.

Dean makes sure Cas comes all over his shiny new pants, stroking him through it, coaxing every last bit out of him and it's only when Dean is sure that Cas is completely done that he unzips his jeans and pulls his own cock out, jerking himself off with a come-covered hand and fuck, it's good, so good his knees start to buckle and he has to lean forward and hang onto to Cas. Cas holds onto him and kisses him with a wet, sloppy mouth, one leg hooked over Dean's and then Cas scrapes his teeth over Dean's neck in a gentle bite and that's all it takes, Dean comes, shooting all over Cas's shirt and tie and jacket and yeah. It's fucking fantastic.

Dean slumps down, head on Cas's shoulder, trying to catch his breath. He's a little dizzy, coming while standing up always does that to him, but damn, it was worth it. After a moment Dean presses a kiss to Cas's neck, nuzzles his ear, then wipes his hand off on Cas's chest.

Pulling back to survey the damage, Dean grins. Cas's pants are undone, suit stained and wrinkled, his tie a mere shadow of its former glory.

"See?" he says. "The suit really does look good." And kisses the dubious expression right off of Cas's face.

***