angel grace

2. pittsburgh

Two days later the two brothers are hot on the trail of a lone vampire in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. All the attacks have happened shortly after hockey games by the local NHL team, and so the boys believe it to be one of the players on the team. Of course, naturally, the next step is to go to a game and watch the players. Three tickets and about $300 later, Sam, Dean, and Castiel are sitting in an arena, watching a hockey game.

"I mean, come on. What's the deal with this team anyway. Their colors are ugly, their captain is a crybaby, and their playing. Jeez, overrated much?" Dean complains, halfway through the game.

"Funny, Dean. I thought you were a wrestling man. How would you know if this team is overrated?" Sam prods at Dean. He smiles and elbows his brother in the side.

"Yeah, whatever. Shut up." He takes a sip from his beer, nearly choking on it as Castiel rubs his knee against the man's. Cas had let the slightest amount of energy into the touch, just enough to make Dean aware of his intentions. Dean coughs, "so any inkling as to who it might be?"

Cas interjects, "the captain, Crosby. He seems to be big on water breaks and his mouthguard is never quite in his mouth properly, almost like it's bothering him. He also is quite pale."

"I see what you mean. Okay. I'll stay here after the game, tail him home or wait until he's alone. You two go back to the motel, go federal, and I'll give you a call if I need you. We don't need more than one of us here with blood on our hands if something goes wrong." Sam runs through the game plan, voice lowered so the fans nearby don't hear the incriminating speech.

"Sam now just hold on a minute," Dean tries to throw in his two cents, but is interrupted the same, by Castiel.

A hand on the forearm releasing small waves of energy from the angel to the man snaps Dean's attention to him. "Dean, Sam is right. He needs to have backup, but we can't all be there at once." Dean's eyes flash lust for a mere second at the angel and the energy coursing through his body.

"Alright. I don't like it," Dean pulls his arm away from Cas. "But fine."

Once at the hotel, there is thick tension between the two. "Who the hell even likes these guys? They're overrated at best." Dean says, stripping the cheap jersey from his body to reveal the tight black t-shirt underneath.

"You've been saying that all night, Dean." Cas removes his jersey as well, a looser white t-shirt beneath his. "Been wasting your breath on how much this team sucks when you could've been using it to yell my name."

Dean turns to Cas, almost in shock. The angel ceases forward and grabs hold of Dean's hips. The man stumbles backward a few steps, his knees buckling against the edge of the bed. He regains his balance, just in time for Cas to shove him down hard on the bed. "In fact, I don't want to hear anything from your mouth right now that isn't you begging me. Understood?" Cas nudges Dean's knees apart with his own and stands between them.

"Yes, sir." Dean marvels at the sight before him. Castiel in a rather thin and sheer white t-shirt, half-tucked into his dark color jeans, the belt around his hips exaggerating their curve. He reaches out to let his hands worship those curves, but is instead met with a sharp and quick slap to the face causing him to gasp both in shock and excitement.

Cas grabs Dean's chin. "Don't get ahead of yourself, darling." He bends down to kiss Dean roughly, shoving him lightly when he pulls back. "Take my belt off," Cas demands, and Dean can feel himself getting hard from being bossed around in this manner.

He reaches his hands forward again, this time working his fingers on the buckle that's eye level with him. He loosens the belt and finishes pulling it through the loops with his teeth, not breaking eye contact with his Sir. Cas smirks and runs a hand through Dean's hair. "What a good listener. Now give it here." He holds his hand out, and Dean drops the belt in the open palm. "Hold your arms out." He commands, and Dean doesn't have a second thought in obeying.