"Would you show me how to masturbate, Dean?"
Dean choked slightly on his beer, turning to look at the angel with a raised eyebrow. Out of all the things they'd done lately, it was hardly the strangest request, but --
"Uh, Cas, not complainin' here or anythin', but pretty sure you already know how. 'less you call jerkin' off in front've me in a laundromat somethin' different."
Cas shrugged. "It is different. I could have come just from watching you on that washing machine," he said matter-of-factly, and Dean's dick twitched.
Great, Dean thought, in equal parts amusement, frustration and nascent arousal, my dick's turning into a fucking Pavlov dong.
"Besides," Cas added, "I want you to show me how you masturbate."
"Jesus, Cas," Dean said hoarsely, and cleared his throat. "Closet voyeur, huh?"
Cas blinked. "I don't believe so. I don't wish to watch anyone else. Nor from a closet."
Dean snorted. "Should I be flattered?"
"If you find facts flattering."
"You're ridiculous," Dean said with a laugh, then brushed his hand over Cas' jaw when a hurt expression flashed across his face. "S'a good thing," he assured him. "Anyway, uh, why, though? Gettin' bored of my dick, huh?"
Cas rolled his eyes. "You know that we will not always be together, Dean.
Something hot and painful sank into Dean's chest. He tried to hide it, but to his slight surprise Cas caught the look in his eyes.
"You misunderstand, I think. I still have duties to Heaven, at least for the moment. And you will have tasks on which I cannot accompany you."
"An' you wanna think 'bout me when I'm not there, hmm?"
"Yes," Cas said simply.
Dean groaned, rubbing his eyes, but the ugly ball twining under his ribcage dissipated. Cas just watched him, chin in hand, his eyes bright and unearthly even in the motel light.
"Can't argue with that," he said with a small laugh. "And I guess we did kinda skip right over the whole awkward handjob phase. So... d'you want to watch me, or d'you want me to, you know… show you?"
Cas tilted his head, scrunching his forehead in the way that had somehow gone from fucking dorky to kinda cute to holy fucking shit hot in an embarrassingly short amount of time.
"I don't know," he finally said. "I'd like to see what you do to pleasure yourself. But I'd also like to feel you doing the same to me."
Dean let out a groan. He crossed over from his perch at the laptop on the table, sitting down next to Castiel on the bed.
"M'kay, well, you want -- you want me to do this or you to do this?" he said, flushing. His fingers danced up and down the angel's arm, and he hoped he'd got the message. "I mean --"
"You, Dean," Cas said, looking down at his hands, and Dean's cock gave another jerk.
"OK," he said. "Take off your clothes."
Cas reached up, pulling off his t-shirt -- one of Dean's that he'd been wearing to bed -- and then shifted out of his jeans, and Dean followed suit, gratified to see that Cas was already hard.
"You want me to touch you first?" he said, lacing their hands together. "Show you the way I'd do it to myself? Then maybe we can try it together?"
"OK," Cas whispered, and Dean leaned over to press a kiss against his temple.
"I love it when you get all shy," he growled against his ear, and Cas shivered. "So fuckin' hot."
Dean sat back against the headboard, considering, then patted the bed in front of him. Cas crawled into his lap, and Dean manhandled him until he was sprawled between his legs, back pressed to Dean's chest. He kissed Cas' neck and ran his hand down his arms, following the trail of goosebumps prickling up.
"So sensitive," he murmured, brushing his fingertips over his ribcage. He paused to tug at a nipple and Cas arched against him, his head tipping back onto Dean's shoulder. "You want me to touch you, hmm?"
"Y-yes," Cas gasped, shuddering.
"Hmm," Dean said again, nipping at Cas' ear. He stroked down Cas' torso until his hands were resting on the inside of his thighs, tugging gently. "Spread 'em for me, angel. Nice and wide."
Cas obeyed, bending his knees until his feet were planted outside Dean's legs, letting him nudge them wider, and Dean hummed approvingly.
"Good boy," he whispered, moving his hands to rest on Cas' hipbones. "Good little angel." Cas moaned quietly, and Dean smiled against his shoulderblades. "So you want me to touch you," he continued, rubbing small circles onto his skin, drifting slowly lower. "You want me to touch you like I used to touch myself, thinking of you?"
Cas choked out a cry, digging his fingertips into Dean's legs to still himself.
Dean drifted his fingers lower still, resting inches from his dripping cock. "I used to, you know," he said, almost conversationally. "Used to jerk off all the fucking time, thinkin' of you. Your perfect mouth wrapped around me, imagining what you got under that trenchcoat. Never thought I'd get to find out… to have you like this, laid out in front've me, trembling and begging."
"Dean… please..."
"I got you, baby," he said. He smoothed his hands from Cas' groin down to his knees, then finally wrapped his right hand loosely around his cock.
"I liked to take it slow," he said, digging his left hand into Cas' thigh. "Dreamed about takin' you apart." He jerked his hips, his cock sliding over Cas' lower back. "You never thought 'bout me?"
"I," Cas gasped. "Yes, no, I…"
"Which is it?" Dean said, tightening his grip. "Yes or no?"
"Yes," Cas whispered. "I, I thought about you. But I never, it never affected me… not like this. Not until you kissed me."
Dean pressed a kiss to Cas' neck, just under his ear. "You like this, now?"
"Yes," Cas murmured. "I -- please."
Dean groaned and set up a slow rhythm, fisting Cas' cock up and down.
"So beautiful," he murmured, mouthing at his neck. "So perfect."
Cas keened, high and broken, and Dean let go. "Wanna stop?" he said, fingers dancing along ribs.
"Please," Cas whispered, his head falling forward. "Please don't stop."
"Want me to make you come, Castiel?" Dean said thickly, his mouth buried in the angel's neck.
"Please," Cas repeated, turning his face away.