Uncle Cas

Cas need to talk to u

Cas need to talk to u 

It was those six words that had Cas crumbling to pieces. He had been avoiding Dean but up until now Dean had been avoiding him too so he had figured that it had been for the best. Crowley had worked as a temporary substitution. Or distraction, rather, but it worked. Most of the time.

Gods, Castiel missed Dean's voice and the text hadn't made it better. He was being a fool, he knew. He should have called Dean but he was starting to realize things about himself and about Dean. The more time Castiel spent with Crowley, fucking him, socializing with him, the more he realized that Dean was not just John's ghost. Dean was Dean and Castiel should have known. Had known for quite a while if he thought about it now that he was mostly sober but that was getting into dangerous territory. Crowley was supposed to act as a replacement, not get him thinking what it would be like to do these things with Dean!

Still, when Dean was finally reaching out to him again he should have called him and not Crowley.

Castiel sighed as he lay in his bed, waiting for his distraction to get out of the shower. Their latest tryst had been short and rough and even though Castiel liked that way he still felt... empty? That was not really the word. He knew the word he was looking for, he just didn't want to say it.

When Crowley sauntered out he was naked and still drying his hair on Castiel's towel. He stopped by the side of the bed and Castiel looked lazily at him.

"You okay there love?" Crowley asked when Castiel made no move to get up.

Castiel shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You tell me."

Castiel made a face and turned half-way away from Crowley, not really feeling like talking about him possibly falling in lo—no, not going there. He just didn't feel like talking. Crowley shrugged too and went back to the bathroom, presumably to finish up.

Castiel sighed again and thought about Dean even though he shouldn't. What would Dean do after—no, if—no, just...

"Fuck it all." He muttered and traced lazy circles in the dried come on his stomach.

What would Dean do after they'd had sex? Would he immediately disappear into the bathroom like Crowley? Would he stay? Would he be weirded out by another man's sperm? Would he taste it?

Castiel's tired dick twitched at the last notion. He had never dared to think about Dean like that but now that he had started it was hard to stop.

What would Dean look like, propped up on his knees, bent over Castiel and licking his stomach free from come? It was... it made quite the picture in Castiel's head.

He put his hand down by his dick, barely touching it but ghosting his thumb against its underside, feeling it slowly fill as more thoughts of what Dean might and might not do to him came flooding his mind.

Dean kissing him. Dean biting his nipples. Dean raking his fingers down his chest as he got closer and closer to Castiel's crotch—

"Well, aren't you looking perky?"

Crowley startled him and Castiel yanked his hand away from his erection, feeling stupidly embarrassed for someone who not an hour ago got rammed in the ass by the same man. 

"I-I..." he cleared his throat when nothing useful came out.

Crowley laughed huskily. "I don't really have time but by all means, don't let me stop you." He said and bent down to retrieved his button down from the floor. "It's your bedroom after all." He was wearing a slightly entertained grin as he shrugged his shirt on and Castiel blushed crimson.