Title: Interrupted
Author: vaderina
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Masturbation, PWP, toys
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: There is no summary as there is no plot. Well, maybe Dean interrupts Castiel's alone?

***

Dean never knew where Cas went when he left in the blink of an eye. If he did, he'd have realised long since that Castiel was nowhere near as naïve or innocent as he appeared to be. As it was now, Castiel was only 2 rooms from Dean, glancing at the empty bed. Dean Winchester, he noted to himself for not the first and undoubtedly not the last time, could be quite infuriatingly oblivious in his denial. Still, Castiel wasn't an angel who'd been around for a few millennia for nothing. A little while longer, maybe even a year wasn't even a blip in his long existence. And in the mean time, he could take care of things by himself. He smiled to himself and placed on the night stand by the bed what he needed for the next few hours to amuse himself until Dean decided his presence was required again. After all, his human vessel still had needs -which he quite enjoyed pandering to sometimes "“ and Dean had really riled him up. There was nothing quite like relieving pent up frustration and sexual tension than with a bit of time alone.


 

He shucked off his coat, followed by his suit jacket, tie, shoes and socks. Other angels would have found his behaviour odd as he could have just wished his clothes off, but Castiel enjoyed the build up. Enjoyed the sensation of the clothes slowly coming off him, revealing his body, small flashes of skin growing into large milky smooth planes tantalisingly. The fact was, he loved dressing up in so many layers, as it took longer to take off. He glanced at the night stand again and felt his cock stir to life in anticipation of what was to come. His fingers moved to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling with them as his breathing turned shallower and sped up. With the shirt off, Castiel turned his attention to his trousers, the bulge now very evident in them. Undoing the button, he eased the zipper down over his erection and stepped out of the material pooling at his bare feet. His boxers were stretched, a small patch darkening the front where the head of his cock rubbed against it. Letting his hand tease himself through the material for a little while, Castiel stood by the bed, enjoying the light friction which was nowhere near enough to serve as anything but a taster for what he was about to indulge in. With a sigh, he slid his hand over his abdomen and under the elastic of his boxers, letting them fall to the floor as he crawled onto the bed and lay on his back. He continued to caress his body with light touches and never allowing himself to touch his cock, just soft brushes against the insides of his thigh, his dry hands running circles and delicate patterns along bare skin.


 

A sigh escaped his lips, turning to a moan as he left his fingers close round his shaft briefly, squeezing the base. His other hand reach blindly towards the night stand, knocking things over before he grasped the lube he had put there. Flipping the cap, he removed his hand from himself to drizzle lube on his palm sloppily. Some of it splashed on his chest, the cool liquid on heated skin making him shudder. When his palm was slick enough and the lube had taken up some of the warmth from his palm, his hand drifted down his chest, picking up the dollops of lube and leaving a shiny trail from sternum to cock. He grasped it in loose fingers, allowing the slip slide of his hand to tease out another breathless moan. Truth be told, he loved teasing himself, keeping himself teetering on the edge, just away from the inevitable rise of warmth building behind his navel. He tilted his head back, eyes fluttering closed, dark lashes fanning out over arousal reddened cheeks in a stark contrast, neck exposed in a long line for no one to witness. Bending his knees, he shifted his hips, fingers trailing lower, over the sensitive skin of his balls, lower still to circle his hole with a wet finger. He ran a finger lightly round it a few more times, feeling the muscles shift under his touch, each circle becoming slicker and smaller. Castiel dipped a finger in, just the first knuckle of his index finger only barely enough to meet minimal resistance before he pulled it out again, resuming his circling. He repeated this a few more times, only pushing in up to the first knuckle and drawing out just as quickly.


 

An idea crossed his mind as he continued his slow touches. Bracing his feet on the bed, he pushed up so he was partially leaning against the headboard. With a wish, the wardrobe door flung open, the mirror on the inside of the door showing the image of him pushed up against the headboard, chest heaving with a slick trail from his fingers, cock flushed and hard, a hand trailing circles round his pink and puckered hole. He watched himself, as his fingers continued on their slick path before mercilessly shoving forward, his index finger pushing all the way in. The image in the mirror and the brutal force behind his push through the resisting and constricting muscles forced a groan from him, eyes closing as his head fell back against the wall. He pulled his legs up further, and pulled his finger out. His cock was throbbing between his legs, precome trailing the vein on the underside, sliding lazily down. He watched it mesmerised before pushing his finger back into his opening with just as much force, breath catching in his throat. He let it stay in him, flexing and curling it, delighting in the shivers it sent through his body. He continued to watch his image fingering itself through hooded eyes, letting out a strangled cry as he pushed a second finger in to join his index finger. His head thudded against the wall, breathing uneven as he pulled his fingers slowly out, relishing in the way his muscles clung to them, reluctant to relinquish their hold. Moving his free hand from where it had been resting on his stomach, Castiel curled his fingers around the base of his stiff member and gave a short sharp tug upwards while thrusting his two fingers deep into himself again. The hoarse shout he let out voicing his pleasure as his fingers stabbed repeatedly at his prostate filled the room. The joy of being alone in the motel room was that he could be as vocal as he wanted to be and didn't need to be ashamed of enjoying his own touch so much.


 

He continued to stroke himself, giving the base a squeeze every time he felt he was getting close to his climax, staving it off. Giving a few more pushes with his fingers, making sure he was loose enough, he drew them out, leaving himself feeling empty and craving more. He reached for the night stand again, finding the ring he wanted. Slipping it over his cock, making sure it sat low enough to fulfil its function, he whimpered and bit his lower lip. Reaching for the final object on the stand, he groaned, feeling its smooth surface. As he pulled it down, he looked at himself in the mirror again and was glad he'd put the ring on before. His legs were spread, hole looser, begging to be filled, his cheeks and chest flushed and a green dildo clutched in his hands. Closing his eyes, trying to regain some form of control, he ran his hands along the surface of the dildo, feeling the slight bumps on it, coating it in lube. When his hand slid smoothly over it, he let it trail down his erection, tracing the route of the beads of precome, increasing the pressure he applied at sensitive spots. He let it move over the curve of his balls, nudge them up as he pushed it against the tender skin behind them, moaning as he went. When he reached his goal, he stopped, taking a few deep breaths before looking up at himself it the mirror once more. Slowly, he applied more pressure to his hole, groaned as he saw the head of the dildo disappear, his hole stretching further than his fingers had prepared him for. The burn as he slid the toy deeper into himself anchored him, he could feel his orgasm building up, the cock ring barely holding it in. Finally, with a final push, the dildo's base nestled against his cheeks, all the way in. He let it stay for a while, just running a finger over his stretched hole, now smooth and taut as it clamped down round the toy. His grunted as he shifted his hips, the toy filling him up more than his fingers. Shifting again, he began to pull the dildo out, his muscles fighting him, clinging to it. Once it was almost all the way out, Castiel pushed against it with force, pushing it deep into him again, grunting at the pleasure mixed with the pain. He continued the pushing and pulling picking up the pace, while his other hand palmed his cock, whole body quivering with the need to release. With a vicious twist when the dildo was embedded as far as possible, pushing at his prostate in a punishing way, Castiel cried out, hips pumping into the air, fingers fumbling to remove the ring.


 

He was so far gone with pleasure, at first he didn't notice his phone ringing. Just as he was about to reach his climax and fall over the edge into bliss, the ringing cut through his haze. He groaned in annoyance, his climax fading from reach as the incessant noise brought him down from his high. Knowing that only Dean and Sam had his number, he let go of his cock and picked up the phone.


 

"Dean." he greeted, voice lower and rougher than normal. He shifted to sit up, stifling a moan as the dildo pushed against his prostate once again, sending a shudder through his body. Turns out, he had underestimated the amount of time Dean needed to mull over their most recent problem. Closing his phone, cast a glance at his reflection. His hair was more of a mess than usual, he was flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat and his hands (not to mention his phone too now) were coated in lubricant and bodily fluids. He growled in displeasure, removing the ring and dildo, placing them on the stand "“ he was going to finish this later. With a thought, his hands and chest were clean and his clothes in their usual place, covering his body. He appeared in Dean's room with a frown. Dean greeted him with a scowl and looked at the angel. Castiel was grateful for his long trench-coat at that particular moment as from where he stood, Dean could not see the prominent tent in his trousers. He waited quietly for the hunter to begin.


 

"I need your coat." Dean finally ground out. Castiel's insides went cold, but his cock gave a jerk at the chance to play on his exhibitionist streak.


 

"What do you require it for?" he asked, drawing it closer to himself. He didn't think Dean was quite ready for this yet.


 

"I just need it, OK?" Dean said, irate. When Castiel didn't move, Dean stalked up to him and yanked at the offending coat. He was close enough to not only see Castiel's erection, but if he shifted to the left a little, he'd feel it too. Just like that. Dean faltered in his attack on the coat and looked down.


 

"Oh." he said. But he didn't step away. Castiel looked at the wall behind Dean's head.


 

"You know what that is, right?" he leered at the statuesque angel.


 

"Yes Dean. It is an erection."


 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sure, it is. But do you know how to take care of it?" he asked, a lecherous grin spreading across his face.


 

"I've had them before." Castiel avoided the question. Dean smiled as his hand trailed to the waistband of the angel's trousers, pulling him closer.


 

"Let me show you then." he whispered, deft hands undoing the button of his trousers. He cupped the angel's hard flesh in his hand, fingers toying with the heavy sack below it. Castiel moaned, eyes closing.


 

"You like that, huh? Wait until your clothes are off." Dean smiled and pushed the layers of coat and suit jacket off together and moved to undo the tie and buttons. Castiel in the meantime was working on Dean's trousers, pushing them down with the man's boxers, freeing his half hard dick. Dean's fingers stopped and he groaned as long, soft fingers brought him to full hardness. While Castiel pushed his own shirt off and removed the rest of his clothes, Dean too stripped of his shirts. Dean took a moment to appreciate the sight of the bare angel in front of him before moving closer, running his hands along the expanse of Castiel's smooth chest. He let his hands roam over his shoulder, down his back tracing the bumps of his spine before settling on his backside, giving them a playful squeeze and pulling the angel flush against himself. Castiel went willingly, his cock painfully hard and begging for release. He buried his head in the crook of Dean's neck, groaning with relief as his cock slid against Dean's hardness. He pushed against Dean, rutting his hips against the other man, seeking the delicious friction. Dean moved his hand to slide between Castiel's cheeks to tease his hole. He pulled his head back in surprise as his fingers came away slick with lube and met no resistance in slipping inside the angel.


 

"You've come prepared?" he grinned.


 

"You interrupted me." Castiel bit back a cry as Dean pushed his fingers in again, toying with the angel.


 

"Let me help you finish then." he growled into the angel's ear. Castiel willingly followed him to the bed where he was pushed onto his back, legs hanging off the bed. Dean lay on top of him, smiling at the debauched angel. Wrapping his legs around the hunter's waist, Castiel pulled him down closer, urging the man to just take him. Shifting to a better position, Dean took a moment before he pushed into the hot tight channel of the angel. They lay like that for a little while, both getting accustomed to the feel of the other. Tentatively, Castiel placed a hand on the back of Dean's neck. Despite all the bravado from earlier and his willingness for an easy fuck, this seemed to be different. Dean too seemed unsure, his whole being unusually still, eyes searching Castiel's for an explanation. Yet there was none to give. Instead, Castiel pulled Dean lower, their lips brushing lightly against each other. Growing bolder, Dean let his tongue run a line down Castiel's bottom lip, seeking entrance which was granted. Their tongues danced in a sinful way, darting in and out, licking deep and pushing the other to his limits. As their kiss turned into something more than just a query and seeking answers, Dean began to roll his hips. The push and pull was countered by Castiel, pulling him closer on each thrust, hands moving to his back forming a harsh grip under his shoulder blades.


 

Castiel knew he couldn't last long. Not with the way he had worked himself up earlier and the way Dean seemed to naturally find the angle that hit his sweet spot on every thrust in at a merciless pace. He threw his head back, keening in pleasure and Dean took this as an invitation to bite on his neck, leaving teeth marks on his delicate skin, soothing them with swipes from his tongue. Moving onto his shoulder, Dean left a tail of possessive marks on his angel while whispering a mixture of declarations of ownership and filth. He could feel Castiel slowly reaching his climax. His moves were becoming more forceful, shoving Dean down as far and fast as he could, his legs tightening round his waist in silent encouragement. Dean himself was close too. The idea of Castiel jerking off making him harder. Without thinking, he was babbling to Cas.


 

"Tell me how you did it."


 

"I..."Castiel's voice broke off into a growl as Dean drove into him. "I have a toy."


 

Dean's hips faltered in their rhythm, himself not quite able to believe what he was hearing.


 

"A toy?" his hips began to move again.


 

"Yes." Castiel breathed. Dean wasn't sure whether he was agreeing with his words or actions. "A...a dildo." the way Castiel's full lips formed that word captivated him. And the image of the angel with a dildo turned him on even more.


 

"And a cock ring." Dean gasped into the crook of Castiel's shoulder, biting back a moan.


 

"I'd lube up." Castiel rasped in his ear, breath hitching every time Dean nailed his prostate. "And, stroke my cock. Then...open myself up with two fingers." Dean closed his eyes, imagining Castiel on the bed, fingering himself open while his cock was leaking. "Then, when I'm close to coming, I'd put the ring on. And then use the dildo to fuck myself." Dean whimpered, he was close, so close to the edge.


 

"When you rang. I had the dildo up me. You talked to me while I had a dildo up me Dean." Castiel's cock pulsed between their bodies. "And to answer, I had to sit up." Castiel's voice broke. "I had to sit up with it in me."


 

Dean cried out as he came, hot come shooting deep into the angel who howled as his own orgasm took him under. His muscles clenched round Dean, milking him until the last drop. His own cock lay spent, the mess on his chest cooling rapidly. He looked down at Dean who had collapsed next to him, exhausted. They crawled up onto the bed, where Castiel smiled at the hunter through tired eyes. The smile turned into an outright grin when Dean's cock gave a valiant twitch as he murmured; "And then I came here. Literally."

***