So, I'm bored. Saw a scene from 'Trust the Man' on iplayer, and it spawned this. Set in season 4...back when things were simple.I haven't written fic in ages, and I'm really out of practice, but...well, this is done now.

"You're seriously gonna try this?"

"Shut up, and put the DVD in the thing."

Sam rolled his eyes and opened the drive, carefully not looking at the cover of the DVD in question. Dean leant back on the bed and shifted to get comfortable on top of the blankets.

"You can't even see it."

"But I can hear it."

Sam sighed. "The bandages are coming off in a week, can't you just..."

Dean would have glared, had the bandages in question not been over his eyes, resting up from a rather big explosion, taken directly to the face. Mostly he was fine, scratched up, but fine. A bit of something had wound up in his eye, thus the Mummy-face.

"Sam, I appreciate that you're some kind of sexual camel that only comes out to feed once a year,"

"What?"

"But some of us need a little, time now and then."

Sam tossed him the remote and watched with amusement as Dean felt his way across the bedspread for it. "Can't you just imagine?"

"I'm already having to imagine every pissed off face you do, throwing boobs in there right now? Not a good idea."

Sam winced. Gross.

"Hey, this thing has audio description."

"Huh," Dean held up the remote, "put it on."

"Seriously?"

"Some sexy voiced chick telling me what's happening with two other sexy chicks? Let me think about that for a second." He threw the remote in Sam's general direction. "Put it on."

Sam did so and tossed the remote back. "Now can I go to the library?"

"Yeah, get gone already."

The door slammed behind him, and Dean settled in as the credits started to roll up the screen. Cheese music bloomed and died, and then he heard the start of some very stilted dialogue.

"Dear Diary, being a high powered business president is super-fun. But sooo exhausting. Sometimes, I just need to relax. I need Casa Erotica."

A knock.

"Room service."

"A blond woman in some kind of lingerie, is opening the door of a fake motel room, to admit a hotel employee with an improbable moustache."

It's a dude. A dude is narrating his porn. Badly.

"Crap," Dean feels around for the remote, then hears a clunk as it falls off the bed onto the floor. "Double Crap."

"I've got the kielbasa you ordered."

"Polish?"

"Hungarian."

"The kielbasa is thrown at the wall, the hotel employee starts to kiss the woman."

"Thank you Norman Bates."

"OK, pants are off, lingerie is off, penis is hard, they're starting."

Dean would roll his eyes, but it kinda hurts when he does, so h just undoes his pants and decides to make the best of things.

There's the sound of a door opening. "Oh, another woman just came in. She is Chinese. Wait...Philippino?"

"Nice." He slips his hand into his underwear and gives himself a slow stroke. It's been about five days, so, bad narration or not, he can work with this.

"She's pulling up her uniform. I think she's supposed to be a girl scout...but that doesn't really make sense, why would she be selling cookies at night?"

"Because she's a dirty girl, looking for trouble."

The sounds of the porno are quite loud, some long moans and 'oh Gods' that Dean knows he would probably believe if he could see anything. As it is, they sound as fake as they are.

"And she has a...I don't really know how to describe that, it's a piercing of some kind, and whatever it is, it is flaring the lens."

Dean laughs, he can't help it.

"Was that funny? Sorry."

He jumped, pulled his hand out of his pants and turned his head from side to side, instinctively trying to see.

"Cas?"

"Yes."

"Why are you here?"

"Sam asked me to check on you."

"And narrating my porn because..."

"It says on the screen that the audio feature isn't available." Something weighted the end of the bed. "I was helping."

"Yes...yes you were." Dean shakes his head. He hadn't noticed that the voice was familiar, definitely not. Because he would have said something, straight away. Definitely.

The porno squeals in completion. Somehow, it would be different if he could see Castiel, but he can't. He can only feel the weight of him on the bed, hear him breathing. "Well, now that it's really, really awkward...what are you wearing?"

"What I always wear."

"You turned on?"

"...this film isn't very, effecting."

"Not what I asked."

"You've stopped touching yourself."

Dean swallowed, slipped his hand back into his pants. "Better?"

The weight on the bed shifted closer. "Mmm."

His throat felt think as he slipped his hand down, stroked his fingertips over his balls and slipped his palm up over his dick. Too dry. Fingertips touched his wrist, making him jump, and Cas pulled his hand out of his jeans, smoothed lube across it with curious fingers.

"Thanks."

He stroked, slick and fast, tipping his hips up to get a better angle. It seemed pointless to hold onto the moan scratching his throat, so he doesn't. And Cas's little, half guilty groan makes his hand move a little faster, he sucks in a breath, feels a finger trace the soft 'O' of his mouth, sucks it.

Cas's weight moves up the bed, settling a little over him. His thumb draws on Dean's lower lip, and Dean can feel his breath, warm on his face. He leans up, hand stroking restlessly, and tilts his head. Castiel's mouth touches his and Dean brings his hand up, tangles his fingers in soft hair and pulls him closer, moans into him as Cas's hand joins his, curious. His finger press against the head, smear the wetness there, and Dean comes over his hand, their hands. Collapses onto the bed.

Castiel's hand traces his hipbone, Dean, loose and warm, feels the trace of his own come on his skin, then the softness of Cas's mouth on his hip.

"See, now I'm jealous," Dean murmurs, "because I can't see you."

Castiel touches the side of his face, and unpins the bandage, pulling it free,

"You coulda done that sooner." Dean glared at him with restored sight. "Kinky bastard."

Castiel frowned at him.

"You have come on your mouth." Dean leant forwards to wipe it away, thought better of it, and traced his tongue over it instead.

"Now who's kinky?"

"I'm human, it's allowed."