The sound of the pop/dub-step-esque music pumped through the testosterone-clotted topless bar, the scent of musk and cheap booze like pollen in the summer wind.

Dean Winchester had never been fond of topless bars. Not that he didn't like a nice pair of tits, but mostly because he couldn't stand the crowd.

He preferred doing it old-fashioned. And by it, I mean picking up chicks.
Seduce the most appeasing woman you see, take her back to a motel, or her house.

Sometimes take a quickie in the back seat of the Impala.

But tonight, tonight here he was. Sitting front and center as a pert blonde girl swung her jugs in his face. He smiled at her, the most charming one he could muster, and took a sip of his beer.

He hid the roll of his eyes behind the golden bits of amber floating in his glass.

He was not feeling it tonight. And by it I mean women.

Dean Winchester wasn't gay to say the least. Of course he wasn't. But damn was it wrong to enjoy the curves of a muscular body—lithe and coarse, slotting beneath you?

Was it wrong to prefer the hard curves, if any, on a man, as opposed to the delicate dips and nooks on women?

It was so much simpler, too. To just find someone and hold their hips and let go.

With women, they were finicky and fragile and once you got a girl who wasn't afraid of a little rough play, she'd either pass out from too much booze before you even got the chance, or she'd back out.

But he just needed someone to take it sometimes. Without the fear of a lawsuit or a serious slap across the face. Or, most likely, both.

Dean had occasionally bottomed, yes. But only on either really good, or really bad days.

He wasn't exactly the type any ways.

But as he sat in the middle the rancid bar, contemplating his bets with the busty brunette on the edge of the counter...

A celestial god amongst the dreary faces in the crowd, caught his emerald orbs.

He felt his palette wetten; his heart stop.

Well fuck.

Across, on the opposite side of the bar, sat a rumpled looking man, with a T-shirt and a pair of dusty jeans. His hair was a mop of angular tufts upon his head.

Dark and grisly, with crisp stubble to match.

Dean wiped his hands on his pants, gently fixed his hair, tipped the butter face blonde, and walked over to the gorgeous gentleman.

He didn't look up at first, and thank God for that, because Dean probably would have had to sit down immediately.

Because as Dean planted himself into the nearest seat toward this wayward stranger, the man looked up at him.

So innocently through those dark lashes, his rosy cheeks blisteringly red in the skewed lighting.

But even more astonishing was the color of those heart-throb eyes.

The purest crystallized blue stabbed into those eye sockets. They looked unreal.

Almost as much as Blondie's breasts.

"Hello." He said, and smiled. His lips wrinkling up under his nose, showing a set of white teeth and the smallest fragment of gum.

"Hi." Dean gushed. Usually Dean didn't do this kind of thing with guys. He had to know for sure they were batting for his team before he tried to get in their pants.

But the second he said Hello it was impossible to deny the flamboyance in his tone.

Not that he had a feminine voice, but instead his pronunciation, in just one single word.

Dean knew.

And fuck did it feel good knowing this wasn't a lost cause.

"How are you?" He asked, placing his tequila onto the counter.

And fuck if he'd only saw that before. He's a lady drinker too!

"Good, good... and yourself?" Dean flirted, twirling his finger along the edge of the martini glass.

If only he knew the imagery that was giving Cas right at that moment.

"Very.." he placed his hand a top Dean's own, then smiled again, but this time, he held something in those depths of oceanic eyes, so cruelly lustful, Dean couldn't believe just seconds ago, he'd used the word 'innocent' to describe this man. "Good." he finished.

"You know..." Dean said, his eyes never leaving Cas's own. "problem is, I'd ask you to go out for a drink..." He shrugged "But what do you know."

"Yeah." Castiel nodded.

"So, you got a name?" Dean asked, edging closer, so he could whisper in his ear. Because otherwise, he wouldn't have heard him over the thrum of distasteful music and drunken catcalls.
"It's Cas." He said, pulling away, almost teasingly. Striking Dean with those eyes that looked like they jumped right out of a Bob Ross painting.
"C-ass?" Dean asked, trying not to laugh. "Nickname?" He queried.
"Cas." He repeated. "Short for uh." He seemed almost embarrassed as he leaned forward and spoke, more quietly, "Castiel."
Dean couldn't help but lick his lips at the sound of that. It was the name of an angel. The Angel of Thursday, to be exact. And it was turning him on, at the thought of pining the gorgeous man across from him, down and grunting profanity and ever so subtly calling him 'Angel.'
"It's dumb I know." Cas said, looking over to the door as a man wearing flip-flops and a purple scarf came walking in, one girl on each of his arms. Shit shit shit.
Dean was losing Cas's interest. Any second he could move on, maybe he was a top. Maybe he wanted to top that kid. Oh fuck.
Dean panicked, not even realizing how badly he wanted to fuck this stranger, he reached out and grabbed his arm.
Cas whipped around at the speed of light, his glass raised to smash over Dean's head. He thought Dean was going to try something, and fuck, Dean could feel everyone watching him and he just wanted to sink down and disappear behind the screen of partially naked women and fake IDs.
But, gradually, Cas realized Dean meant no harm and lowered the glass, a look of confusion and amusement over those flawless features.
"It's an Angel." Dean spoke quickly, his eyes flickering over the glares of judgment coming from purple scarf and his posse. "Now please…forgive me…and let's…let's maybe get out of here?" Dean looked up to the Angel-named, angel-faced man and didn't expect to see a smile.
"Yeah." He breathed, placing his empty tequila down and sliding a few bills under the chipped glass.
He stood, gracefully, like you would expect from someone named after an angel, or maybe a cat.
He gripped Dean's wrist in his hand, his calloused fingers wrapped around the bones in his wrist and he tugged him through the crowd, and they left the stench of body odor and fermenting urine behind.
It was dark out, and Dean had almost forgotten as the pair stepped out form the darker bar into the unevenly lit street. The sidewalk was illuminated by shop signs and busy headlights. "You're name?" He asked, and now, without terrible music blocking his hearing, Dean realized his voice was so much less fitting to his appearance. His voice sounded like the crunching gravel across the street, in the parking lot where Dean's car was sitting, waiting for him.
"Dean." He said, with a small smile. Because he felt god damned lucky to have actually made it out of that place with an actual date. And an interesting one too.
"Very sexy." Cas chuckled. "Very butch." And then he winked. Dean felt himself blush at that, because yes, he was pretty butch, wasn't he? Oh shut up, Sam.
"So…" Dean trailed, eyes blazing in the neon lights, "Your place or mine?"
Cas's eyes matched with blinding fervor. "Mine…" And then he bit his lip as if he failed to contain himself from just bursting out, "If…that's okay."
Although Dean didn't usually accept, he was desperate to get with this guy. And a part of him wasn't really sure why. "Yes."
"You want to take your car?" Dean asked.
Castiel blushed "I walked."
Dean grinned a grin to put the Cheshire Cat to shame, "Perfect."
Together, they crossed the street and Dean briefly introduced him to Baby, his black, four-door, hard top, 1967 Chevrolet Impala.
"She's beautiful," Cas remarked, with genuine interest. Although, he admitted he wasn't a car guy, he could appreciate a sweet ride when he saw one.
They talked through the ride, however short it was, Dean realized that this guy was more than a sweet piece of ass, but a very real, very interesting individual.
But before he could get too far on himself, he had to stop himself from getting too involved. This was a one-night-stand. This guy doesn't care about you any more than you do him.
But was that really the problem? Considering, the level of care present was rather…generous. From both parties.
Dean ignored that realization as they pulled into the driveway of a gigantic, 3-story home, no, mansion.
"This is yours?" Dean marveled, his tone rampant with jealous awe.
"Yes.." Cas answered rather sheepishly. "I hope it doesn't…" His hand crawled toward Dean's lap, where those nimble fingers squeezed his thigh, "turn you off?" He answered, giving Dean that ever-so-innocent look through his eyelashes once more.
Dean gulped, and the only response he could offer was a shake of his head.
"Follow me, I have the perfect place…for us." Cas sounded like a schoolgirl losing her virginity. And god was it hot.
Dean didn't respond, only followed as Castiel led him along by his wrist.
Cas unlocked his door, disarmed his alarm system, and flicked on a set of lights.
The whole house was huge. With vaulted ceilings and sterile-white walls. Chrome appliances and white furniture. It was artistic and modern and it suited him.
"Come with me." He said, and Dean would have followed even if he told him he had bed bugs and an axe murder tied up in the basement.
Cas led him up a winding staircase, and down a white hallway into a room the size of a traditional master bedroom. And it was. Bed, nightstands, closet, dresser.
Except for one thing.
Each and every single wall, was one giant mirror. And across the side of one of the walls was a large chrome bar. Dean knew then this was once a ballet studio.
He gasped, realizing, the ceiling, was also covered in mirrors. He felt his cock growing inevitably hard. Holy fucking shit they were going to fuck in here.
Oh god Dean had wet dreams about this kind of thing.
"What do you think?" Cas whispered in his ear. But he already knew, his tongue pressing against the pulse point in Dean's neck.
"F-fucking.." Dean couldn't stifle the moan as Cas's hand moved to the front of his jeans.
"Come sit down." Cas offered, and Dean did not object, letting Cas lead him over to the bed, where he picked up a remote, and for fucks sake, He dimmed the lights.
And in the reflection Dean could see himself, of course, but the dull light hit Cas's pale skin, almost illuminating him against his dark sheets. And that was perfect.
Dean couldn't take it. He wanted clothes off. Now.
He turned around to Cas, and without a word, he pushed him backward, pinning the angel boy beneath him and kissing him roughly. He usually had a rule of no mouth kisses but who the fuck cared at this point? He'd never been so turned on while still being in all his damn clothes.
Cas whimpered under him, and Dean smiled, pressing his hips down, letting Cas feel his erection against his slender belly. Cas squirmed and gripped the front of Dean's flannel.
"You know," Cas breathed between a series of neck and mouth kisses.
Dean grunted in response, working his hands under the hem of Cas's T-shirt.
"You're the first…" Cas let out a moan of approval as Dean lifted his shirt and slid his tongue from Cas's belly button up to his nipple. "t-the first.."
Cas's hands nearly shredded through Dean's layers as the dirty blonde kicked his hips down, almost as a way of silencing the dark haired man, even though he was curious as to what he was trying to say.
"one to accept.." He said, as their shirts glided to the floor.
"Accept what?" Dean growled against the shell of Cas's left ear. Castiel's hands were on his belt.
"this." Cas shucked the belt and went straight for his zipper, simply desperate to touch Dean's dick.
"ey'." Dean mumbled, grabbing Cas's wrists as he slipped his first three fingers inside of the denim, touching Dean's hard member through his straining boxer briefs.
"I'm sorry," Cas recoiled, absolutely still, his beautiful eyes blown wide and flickering over Dean's face as if he'd just found out Dean's mother died.
"Shh, no, hey." Dean, not sure what else to do, he reached out and kissed the man again. He looked so frightened it really seemed to get to Dean somehow.
"Just..slow." He purred into Cas's ear. "I.." He chuckled "want this to last, and baby, if you keep going at this pace, there's not a chance I will." Cas laughed then, and recovered without another word.
From then on , they ground together and made out, as synchronized as a pair of lovers in Dirty Dancing.
From then on, Dean could feel himself get into a steady rhythm, he was rather happy with the way things were going. They were rutting and Cas was making some of the sexiest noises Dean had ever heard.
"Dean.." Cas whispered, His fingernails digging into Dean's shoulder blades, his legs wrapped around Dean's ass, they both were left only with their underwear. Dean wore charcoal grey boxer briefs, and Cas, navy blue briefs. And god did they bring out those eyes.
"Yeah?" Dean answered, slotting his hips against Cas's, having the smaller man whine and buck himself upward, his dick hard, pressing through the top of his underwear and wetting his own belly with pre-cum. And if that wasn't hot enough to make Dean pulse in between Cas's legs, where his own cock pressed against Cas's ass, slipping between his ass cheeks every time Cas bucked up.
And he couldn't wait to get inside there.
"Do you…" Dean looked up, the motion making a few loose strands of hair stick to his sweat-blotted forehead. Cas took this as an invitation to continue.
"Do you wanna fuck me?" He asked, and Dean groaned as the words, so small and gentle, like that little virgin schoolgirl, left Cas's swollen, fuchsia lips.
"If you're ready, anything you want." Dena paused, then flashed Cas a grin, adding "angel."
Dean watched, at four different angels, as Cas bit his lip, and nodded.
"I want you.." Dean edge closer, his dick pushing right up against Cas's waiting hole, "to say it." He breathed.
Cas absolutely lost it, squealing and shoving his ass down against Dean in one bravado thrust. Dean felt the tiniest tip of his dick press past Cas's entrance and enter him, if, only for a second "Yes! Fuck me!" Cas consented, bouncing back against the satin sheets, and if that wasn't enough for Dean, then nothing would be.
"Turn over on your belly." Dean whispered, gently climbing off of Cas and letting him scramble up, obeying with passion and enthusiasm you couldn't fake.
Cas moved under Dean, crawling beneath him on all fours, grabbing a pillow and resting the upper half of his body on it.
"Good boy." Dean purred in his ear, and he cried out in response, wagging his ass in the air. Begging for the attention he so desperately needed.
Dean mounted him then, letting him feel dominated and small, as he figured Cas would like.
He did.
He whimpered for more, pressing his hips back into the bulge of Dean's cock.
"Let me see that cute little ass." Dean encouraged, peeling Cas's underwear down, revealing a perfect bulb of pale, delicious flesh.
Dean smirked and gently rubbing his hands across Cas's butt. Then, he placed a small kiss right at his perineum.
Cas sighed and let his head bury in the pillow.
"Ah-ah." Dean said, gently lifting his head by touching his finger under his chin. "I want you to watch me."
A visible shudder actually skittered over his entire body. He only had the energy to nod back.
"Here," He said quietly, handing Dean a bottle of lube he had somehow conjured whilst he was un-tucking himself form his underwear.
As Dean removed his raging hard-on from its restraints, flicking both of their finale pieces of clothing to the floor, Dean heard him gasp and watched Cas's fingers curl into the sheets.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, placing his hand against his hip.
"Nothing." He breathed. "You…ungh…" His face contorted as Dean's hand gently brushed against his proud-standing erection. His eyes pulled closed and his eyebrows knitted together, his forehead creasing and mouth ripping open.
"You…you're so big.." He marveled. Dean chuckled, flattered and aroused by his partners words.
"That's not a problem is it?" Castiel vigorously shook his head.
"No." He answered, absolutely serious. "No. Please…continue."
"No problem."
Dean took the lube from his shaking fingers, and squeezed the glistening product onto his own hand. He missed this. Actually having to work for a lay. Women were just…
Well, without any other way to put it, easy.
They either just wanted you in and out, or wanted another date. And fuck was it hard to satisfy them.
Men, there was so much more intimacy and build up and you could draw it out for as long as you want and never lose interest. Without even trying.
And there was no hidden parts or far-off "G-spots"
While women were, 'easy.'
Men were simple.
And that was why Dean loved them so much.
While Dean was mulling over his own thoughts, he had started twirling his finger around Cas's entrance.
Cas was reminded of earlier at the bar, when Dean had been twirling his long, thick fingers around the edge of Cas's drink. And all Cas could think of was this moment right here, and it was actually happening.
"Fuck Dean…" Cas breathed, watching in the reflection of the reflection in front of him. He could see his own ass, Dean sat ever-so-slightly to the left, his dick sitting impatiently between his legs. Dean's own ass looking like it could take a good fucking every once in a while.
Cas had considered it, but he knew, tonight he needed this. Just how it was.
Before Cas had more time to consider what other options he had, Dean caught him off guard.
His index finger had pressed inside, and the cool sting of his finger sent Cas howling into the pillow, biting into the feathered sack and pushing back for more.
Dean's hands were so cold and slick and his ass was on fire and all he could think was how cold his dick was going to be, covered in lube and cum and shoving into him like none of even his best dildos ever could.
And then Dean's other hand was on his hip, his torso hovering, his head right next to
Cas's own, and he was asking, "Are you okay?"
"More." Was Cas's only command. Dean's face, mirrored across from them both, was doubtful. "Please." Cas added with a growl of impatience.
"As you wish." Dean answered. He swirled his first finger a few times, opening Cas up and letting him get a feel for what was coming.
And he scrunched his finger, bending it at his second knuckle and the tip of his calloused finger driving against Castiel's prostate.
Cas let out a desperate cry, where it died in his throat, followed up by a yearning groan, scraping through his chest and escaping through his nose.
"That'a boy." Dean murmured in a cooing type of encouragement.
Cas said nothing, how could he? He was afraid if he opened his mouth he'd scream.
And as Dean crooked that single digit, Cas could only whimper and rock against the small, yet powerful stimulation he was receiving.
And at the same time he wanted more. So much more.
"Dean.." He breathed, his voice endlessly uneven as he was pushed forward by Dean's own thrust in his wrist. Dean was strong, and he wanted to feel how strong his hips were.
"I know." He growled in Castiel's ear, bending over him, and adding a second finger within a few seconds. Cas was beyond ready, He wanted to feel himself tear open with the size of Dean's cock.
But Dean seemed so utterly content with fingering Cas, he had no objection.
"Tell me, when you are ready." Dean said after adding a third finger, gently slotting them in and out of Cas's leaking hole. He was in actual pain because of this.
Not because it hurt, or because he wasn't prepared enough. It was because Cas could not physically take another god damn second without knowing what it felt to have this stranger inside of him.
"I'm ready, for fucks sake Dean, please." He whined, pushing his ass backward against Dean's hand, the ring on Dean's finger cooling the intense heat around Cas's entrance.
Dean said nothing, but Cas watched him in the mirrors as he lubed himself up, as he lingered a few second longer on himself. His hand removing itself from Castiel, and rubbing his own dick.
Cas felt his hard-on twitch at the sight. How dare he be so fucking hot.
And when Dean was satisfied, he finally,
Finally,
Finally turned to Castiel, leaned over him like two dogs would mate. He mounted Cas in the way only an animal would. His bare chest met Cas's back, and their skin stuck together with sweat.
And Cas watched as Dean's hands traveled under, one to guide himself inside, and the other touched Cas. His entire arm wrapped under Castiel, holding him up with remarkable strength. He was going to hold him in place and fuck him just like this.
His hand wrapped under and fisted Castiel as he pushed in. Cas was sure he felt the impatient throb of his dick as Dean finally,
Finally,
Finally was inside of Castiel.
And it was everything either one of them could imagine it to be.
Dean was swollen and engorged inside Cas, filling him in a way that left him absolutely breathless. The cold bite of the lube only sending his nerves wild, making him feel positively light-headed with euphoria.
And Dean could only choke back profanity as Cas's tight hole trapped him inside, wrapped around him with the perfect intensity. The heat of him making Dean want to cry out in a sort of victory. Because this was going to be the best fuck he'd ever had.
"Cas, oh my fucking god." Dean finally said after reveling in the pleasure of that moment.
"Ditto." Cas huffed out, his chest heaving with the effort.
"You ready?"
"Are you kidding me?"
Dean moved.
And Cas gasped, the hilt of Dean's member leaving Cas completely. All was left was the head. Cas was about to argue when within a single second, all was returned with a throttling gust.
All of the oxygen inside Castiel was shoved out in that single second.
And all he could do about it was gape and curl his fists into the sheets.
And of course he could watch.
Watch in his mirrored room as Dean shuddered. Watch as Dean pulled away once more, and as all the cool heat came rushing back inside.
All he could do was watch as the words were stolen right form his lips.
Dean could have asked permission. He could have stopped entirely, and sheepishly wondered how Castiel was doing.
But he knew better.
He knew that Cas would have answered the same way no matter the circumstances.
Castiel would have said "Yes."
And what was the question? "You want me to go faster?"
Yes.
Dean did.
He held Castiel tightly at his hips, with his one arm, as the other found its way up toward Castiel's hair.
Dean pulled on it every so often, or at least, when Cas's head dropped.
Dean wanted him to see what they were doing. Dean wanted him to watch as he fucked him.
Cas had no argument.
Dean's hips began to rotate in a way that reminded Cas of his favorite vibrator.
Only better.
He sighed in defeat and let his body take control of his mind.
He shoved his own hips backward into each of Dean's angled twirls.
And each time they would both let out a huff or a groan. A moan or Dean would curse, and Cas would whimper.
By the time Dean had built up a momentum, the sounds where coming nonstop.
They were both very vocal in bed. Cas, maybe a bit more.
But Dean had to grit his teeth to keep from sinking them into Cas's shoulder blades.
It had become such an effort, he finally just bit down, Making Cas let out an inhuman sound of glorified approval.
In that moment Dean felt Cas's small thrusts backward become more frantic, felt the pulse inside Cas's dick quicken, felt the flesh between his teeth grow slick with sweat.
He knew Cas couldn't take much more, and he realized he was close to the end as well.
"DEAN." Cas cried out as Dean intentionally crashed the head of his dick against Cas's prostate.
Cas was finally talking again, as if the words had rushed from his belly and into his mouth once more.
"OH Dean." He cried, his words garbled and uneven.
"I know." Dean growled back through the hunk of Cas's shoulders in his mouth.
"D-dean oh go-" He began to shake like a wet puppy in Dean's arms, his orgasm closing in on him quicker than he anticipated.
"oh god." He whispered, throwing his head into the pillow.
Dean growled and lifted Cas's head, holding his chin up and making him watch again.
Cas's entire body was nearly limp and unresponsive. He was weak with pleasure and he could feel every second was a second closer to his climax.
"Watch." Dean commanded. "I want you to watch yourself cum in my arms." And with a strangled shout of Dean's name, Cas did just that.
He convulsed and shook with overstimulation as Dean stayed inside, finding his own orgasm with Cas's convulsions.
Dean let out a long groan, releasing Cas altogether as he came.
Cas collapsed, falling on the mattress, cloaked in sweat and his own cum.
Dean followed, falling right beside him, his arms tangled slightly in Cas's own, their glossy eyes meeting each other's, panted breaths falling against each other's rosy red cheeks.
There was nothing left to say at that point. Because they both knew the words each was searching for.
Dean wanted to tell Cas that was the most amazing sex he'd ever had.
And Cas wanted to say the same.
But they stayed quite, and instead, fell asleep in each other's arms.