Title: Lady GaGa got me hard WT?
Author: heartbreakingechoe and obsession-rules-me
Summary:It all starts with hipster clubs and public boners you see...
Warnings:Uhhh boners? Dirty thoughts?
Dean never goes to local band shows for a lot of reasons. Mostly though he just hates new music. Then why is he driving towards that stupid hipster club on the rich side of town? Oh yeah, fucking Sam. He's got a boner for some chick in a band and begged Dean to take him to one of her shows. Dean was so relieved Sam was showing interest in someone who wasn't his hell spawn ex-girlfriend Ruby that he stupidly agreed immediately. Dean regrets it as soon as he pulls into the parking lot and sees ten different guys in skinny jeans with the same exact Ramones t-shirt.
Just as Dean expects the inside of the small building smells like teenage sweat and smoke that isn't from cigarettes. Dean tries to hang out in the back but Sam grabs him with his gigantic hands and starts pulling him towards the front. Dean stands out enough in his torn up jeans, flannel button-up and Led Zeppelin t-shirt without his sasquatch of a brother dragging him around. Thankfully he only recognizes a couple of people from their school since most of the kids here are from the prep school that's near by. The room is packed tight but most of the people aren't dancing or really paying any attention to the band.
"These guys suck but the next band is awesome." Sam has to yell in his ear for Dean to even hear him.
"Yeah, I'm sure." He shoots back sarcastically.
They gave up on talking after that because the crap coming out of the speakers was drowning every thing else out. Dean started scanning the room for at least one hot chick who doesn't look like a total snob when the music stops. He had just locked eyes with a big boobed girl that looked as bored as he felt when Sam's gigantic elbow slams into him, making him flinch away.
"Dude, this is them!" Dean gives Sam a side-long glance, as if to say yeah, duh, that's why we're here, right? to which Sam Bitch-Faces (# 14) back at him.
The first person Dean notices on stage is a hot little thing in a plaid skirt, a leather corset with just the right amount of red lace and her toned legs strapped into the kinkiest leather boots Deans ever seen. He perks up a little, maybe things are looking up. The drummer is an equally hot red head in a full catholic-sex uniform and the same boots. Then some guy walks on stage with a bass and he might be wearing a uniform but Dean doesn't really look. The corseted one steps up to the microphone and gives the crowd a cocky wink and smile.
"Hey everybody!" Someone from off stage had come out to hand her a fire red guitar and as she puts in over her head she says "Thanks for coming out tonight, we're the Angelics and THIS IS CASTIEL!"
The whole band instantly strikes up into a happy poppy beat and then well Dean gets really distracted. A guy that must be Castiel marches to the front of the stage with a mic already in hand and the beat and rhythm switch to something heavier like those weird scream-o bands Sammy listens to.
"Want your bad romance
/ Want your bad romance/ I want your ugly/ I want your disease/ want your everything/ As long as it's free/ I want your love/ Love-love-love/ I want your love"
His voice is deep and rough with a slight growl to it and it sends chills up Deans spine. The guy is wearing a proper button up white shirt and black tie, ass clad in tight straight legged jeans and damn if the way his hips sway to the beat doesn't call for all kinds of attention. He is lean without being scrawny and Dean feels a little weird now because he is pretty sure he is checking out a dude.
"I want your drama/
The touch of your hand/ I want you leather-studded kiss in the sand/ And I want your love/ I want your love/ Love-love-love/ I want your love/ You know that I want you/ And you know that I need you/ I want your bad, your bad romance"
His eyes are a deep drowning blue rimmed in dark eye liner and has brown-black sex hair that Dean is pretty sure isn't on purpose. When he growls out a line about leather studded kisses he looks right into the crowd, the intensity in his eyes making all the girls simultaneously try to get even closer to the stage and scream bloody murder. If he wasn't such a big guy Dean would have been crushed and even then he is pressed closer to the stage, Sam even tighter against his side.
"I want your love
/ And I want your revenge/ You and me could write a bad romance/ I want your love and/ All your love is revenge/ You and me could write a bad romance"
The corseted girl started singing along to the chorus about half way . As she bangs on her guitar energetically, her and the lead singer share an intense stare. Dean feels odd when he starts thinking about that astounding blue gaze directed at him.
"Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!
/ Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!/ Oh-oh-oh-oh-oooh!/ Oh-oh-oooh-oh-oh!/ Caught in a bad romance/ Want your bad romance"
They're singing syncronized now, voices twisted together passionately. Every time Castiel growls out the word 'romance' he makes it sound dirty and forbidden.
"I want your horror
/ I want your design/ 'Cause you're a criminal/ As long as your mine/ I want your love/ Love-love-loves/ I want your love"
Every word is starting to sound filthy to Dean, like bad lines from a porn and he isn't sure if it's the way this guy sings it or the luscious, totally sensual mouth its coming out of. The song goes on, at least Dean is pretty sure it does. His brain may have fried out until the next lines slither out that porn star mouth. Wait, when did this guy become a porn star? Damnit, Dean, focus.
"I want your psycho
/ Your vertical stick/ Want you in my rear window/ 'Cause baby you're sick"
Now Dean knows his brain is gone because when the words 'vertical stick' come out of the little bastards mouth he gropes himself. Dean tries to shake out of it by looking at the lead guitarist and her kinky boots but his eyes just wont stay there. It doesn't really help that they're inching closer now and Dean cant help but look at both of them. When they share the microphone in Castiel's hand they start rutting against each other on stage and goddamn if that's the way he looks when he is turned on then Dean wouldn't mind a little more rutting.
"I want your love
/ And I want your revenge/ I want your love/ I don't wanna be friends/ Je deux amour/ Et te veux ta revanche/ Je deux amour/ I don't wanna be friends"
Dean no longer has to think about what it would be like to have those eyes on him because when Castiel drops on his knees and rips open his fucking shirt as he rants in French and is right in front of Dean. His eyes lock with Dean's immediately while he humps the damn floor like a stripper. Their stare is locked as the last note rings through the room and breaks when the guy stands back up.
When Deans brain turns back on he finally realizes one really bad thing. He is fucking hard. For a dude. In the middle of a crowd. Next to his fucking baby brother. Oh shit, what the fuck is wrong with him?
"We're Castiel and the Angelics, thanks for listening folks." His tone is oddly calm after all that screaming he just did but the sound of his voice is just as deep and raspy. The crowd starts shouting out 'encore!' over and over, Dean even notices Sam shouting along with them. The bass guy says something that makes the singer laugh lowly into the mic. "Wish we could but our time's up, come out to see us again."
Oh god, that laugh. Dean can feel himself twitch in his pants. Even as the Angelics are packing up and leaving the stage, Dean can't stop looking at this guy and silently freaking out about it. His attention is finally brought back to Earth when that perfect ass (WHAT?) is backstage again and Dean can focus on getting the fuck out of this place. Sam saw his woman, that means Dean can leave and he's about to hell Sam as much when he feels the moose grab his elbow and man-handle him out of the crowd.
Dean lets out an inaudible sigh of relief. Which, unfortunately, doesn't last very long when he figures out that Sam isn't leading them towards the exit but to the backstage area.
"What are you doing?" He shouts at his brother and, no, he does not sound hysterical because Dean Winchester does not get hysterical, goddamnit.
"I wanna say hi to Anna." Sam turns and looks at him with those big hazel puppy dog eyes that no one can say no to and fuck. Fuck Sam. Fuck him and his stupid face that can make Dean do anything for him no matter how freaked out he is about his boner for a dude. Dean pulls a face but goes along with Sam anyway.
Fuck. He is so screwed.