Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Cas!!”

Castiel was towel drying his hair, standing at his dresser in just a pair of soft, worn jeans that clung to his still slightly damp skin. 

Dean stomped into his bedroom with a toothbrush in his mouth, wearing a black t-shirt, jeans and socks. He had a scowl on his face that made him look like a smoldering Greek god.

“What’s going on, Dean?” Castiel said, putting the towel around his neck and turning to face his normally playful but currently irate roommate.

“My socks are soaked,” Dean cried around his toothbrush, lifting one leg and extending both arms, palms out, towards his foot, “—again!”

Castiel could see Dean’s eyes raking down his naked chest and turning slightly pink once he put his foot down onto the carpet. Well, if he didn’t expect to find him in a state of undress, perhaps he shouldn’t have followed the water trail of a freshly showered man.

“Did you stand on the bathmat?” Castiel quirked an eyebrow at catching him staring while he tossed the damp towel onto the bedspread next to socks and a shirt. Dean turned quickly away from Castiel, putting his hands on his hips and looking towards the floor so he can only see his slightly pink ears. 

“You know I did, it’s where you stand to brush your teeth—and it’s sopping wet!” Dean sat on Castiel’s bed and started to peel off his socks. “There’s absolutely nothing worse than wet socks,” he grumbled. All of this was a little garbled from the toothpaste foam filling his mouth. But since Castiel had heard this a few times since they moved to a smaller, but more affordable, place with a shared bathroom last month, he didn’t need clarification. Their old apartment had had two bathrooms and Castiel had the en suite, so Dean never had to set foot in it. Apparently, Castiel had been bathing incorrectly this entire time and never knew it.

“Yes, Dean. I showered and utilized the bathmat, of course it’s going to be wet. You probably should wait to put on socks until after you are finished in the bathroom. I don’t understand why this is such a big deal to you.”

That must have been the wrong answer because Dean shot up from the bed with a growl. He grabbed the clean pair of socks from Castiel’s bed and shoved them in his back pocket before stomping back into the bathroom with his index finger in the air, making unintelligible grumbles around his mouthful. He could have gotten his own socks, but it seemed like taking Castiel’s socks was “punishment” for his puddle in the bathroom. If Castiel wasn’t a little turned on he might have been annoyed. Dean was quite possibly hotter when he was angry than when he was being just his normal, lovable roommate. 

“Because,” he said from down the hall, very garbled. Castiel heard him spit into the sink and turn on water to rinse his brush. “If you would do it right, you wouldn’t get water everywhere.” A pause for a slurp of water, a swish, and another spit. “I’m not expecting to walk through puddles in my own house!”

“Well then, by all means, Dean, teach me how to dry myself off like I’m a toddler,” Castiel called a little louder, rolling his eyes. He was shaking his head with a wry smile and pulling on one of Dean’s henleys that had migrated to his room when Dean showed up next to him, making him jump slightly.

“Oh, I will teach you, huggy bear,” Dean smirked darkly as Castiel’s heart pounded in his ears. “Next time you shower, I’ll give you a lesson. My socks will thank me—and so will you.” 

Dean’s eyes were trained on Castiel’s lips. Castiel gave a thick swallow and cleared his throat. Dean blinked and locked his green eyes onto Castiel’s icy blues and blushed.

Castiel didn’t think about those smoldering green eyes all day with a thrill. Nope. Not at all.

***

The next day was a Saturday, and Castiel went on his morning run. He thought about Dean’s promise, but he knew Dean liked to sleep in on Saturdays and would probably be sleeping when he got home. Dean would probably forget about what he said as long as Castiel was more careful about not getting water everywhere. What is there to learn anyway? Castiel closed his eyes and could picture Dean standing next him in the shower, sluicing the water off of his arms and licking drops of water off his neck. He had tried so hard to keep Dean out of his fantasies—no matter how flirty and receptive Dean seemed to be, neither of them had made that final step. He couldn’t help but think it was some sort of roommate barrier that kept everything simmering just below the surface. There were so many little moments, light touches, near boiling-over sexual tension. Castiel started counting his paces and pushed his muscles to carry him faster and faster to drown out thoughts of sparkling green eyes looking at him from under water-soaked lashes and a pink tongue darting out to lick the water off of plush lips.  

Upon returning from a harder run than he intended, Castiel turned on the showerhead and got the water to temperature before stripping off his sweaty clothes.  He tossed them into the hamper and stepped under the spray. The water temperature felt heavenly on his aching muscles, and he gave himself a few minutes of rolling his shoulders before he put some body wash on a loofah and started scrubbing. When the loofah made a pass over his nipples, he hissed slightly, and the thoughts of Dean came barreling back.  His cock lengthened between his legs as he started a slow, meandering southern trail with his loofah.

Just as he had encased his burgeoning erection in his fist with some real intention, he heard a surprised noise and saw Dean’s sleep-spiked hair pop into view of the mirror. Castiel gave an undignified squawk and spun towards the water so that the semi-translucent shower door wouldn’t give away his activities. Sharing a bathroom was still relatively foreign to him after having privacy for years—he needed to remember to lock the door if he was going to jerk off in the shower. Sharing one bathroom made it sometimes necessary for one or the other to pop in to grab something while the other was showering, so Castiel mostly left the door unlocked so that he wouldn’t have to cut his shower short.

“Ready for your lesson, sunshine?” Dean grinned like the cat who ate the canary. Castiel wasn’t sure if Dean caught him and wanted to ruin his solo flight or if he just thought he had startled him.

“Are we really doing this, Dean?” he said, sounding a little shrill. He put both hands and his forehead on the cool tiles of the shower and closed his eyes, still trying to catch his breath from the interruption. “I promise that I will try to drip less on the bathmat if you promise to cut me a break for the stray drop every now and then.”

“Oh no no no…I have a system and I’m going to teach it to you. There’s no need for puddles or drips anywhere if you follow the Dean Winchester Drying Technique,” Dean said, hands on his hips and looking like a TV commercial. When that didn’t get the laugh he desired, Dean scoffed, tossing his hands up and turning to brush his teeth with a light eye roll. 

“The…Dean…Winchester…Drying…Technique. I didn’t realize this meant so much to you,” Castiel chuckled, rubbing shampoo into his hair, and he could have sworn that Dean risked a glance or two in the mirror through the shower door.

“Yeah, well…” Dean seemed to hesitate, rinsing his mouth and his toothbrush carefully. And then, dropping his volume just a little, “My dad didn’t tolerate us dripping all over the place when he was able to afford a motel room. We had to dry off very carefully because when that man got his socks wet, oh man…”

Something in Castiel’s heart ached as he finished rinsing his hair. He knew Dean’s dad had been strict—the man had been hard on them and more than likely abusive. Every glimpse into his childhood had revealed as much. He had been Dean’s roommate for five years and whenever something like this came up, Castiel wanted to track down John Winchester and beat the living shit out of him. His ginormous crush on Dean aside, he was his friend and he couldn’t stand anyone hurting his friends.

When Dean seemed to cringe at the sound of Castiel opening a can of soda, Castiel didn’t really know what to think. Dean had eventually revealed to him that the sound just shoots right through him because whenever his dad was angry, he’d go pop open a Budweiser. Dean associated the sound of a can opening with those horrible feelings he felt when his dad was angry with him. 

Dean had said once he realized why he was reacting that way that it had gotten slightly easier to hear the sound without being filled with sudden self-loathing, but it never really went away. Likewise, for Dean’s seeming aversion to dogs. Castiel had a suspicion that Dean’s reticence for Castiel getting them a dog for the apartment once they moved to a pet friendly complex had to do with his dad. 

Then, Dean told him about the mangy puppy that his brother Sam had taken in once, when their dad was away for a few weeks. Sam had named him Bones and Dean had scrounged some money for puppy chow and tried like hell to make it so their Dad wouldn’t even notice the little thing. But it was still a puppy and Dean told him about how angry John had gotten about the puppy having accidents in their motel room and in his beloved car. After the accident in the car (which apparently only happened because John refused to stop for the dog to relieve itself), John pulled over to the shoulder of the highway, opened his door and set the dog down, just barely off the road, and had driven away. Dean and Sam watched from the back window, horrified as the little pup trembled and got smaller in the distance, willing it to move further off the road instead into traffic.

“You know what, never mind,” Dean muttered and turned toward the bathroom door to leave.

Castiel realized that he hadn’t said anything for a while, his mind inventing new and creative ways to make John Winchester hurt. 

“No, please Dean! Tell me your technique,” he nearly shouted. There was nothing Castiel wouldn’t do for this man, especially after discovering this was yet another in a long line of issues created by his dad. “There’s no reason I can’t be more careful, and we can’t have you leaving the house with wet socks—winter is coming after all.”

“Okay, Ned Stark, whatever you say,” Dean smirked, rolling his eyes and returning to his normal self as he leaned against the vanity again, raising his chin towards the glass door. Feeling Dean’s eyes on him gave Castiel a thrill as he had never been this forward despite their constant sexual tension.

“So, is this technique complicated?” Castiel goaded lightly as he ran some conditioner into his hair. “Should I be taking notes? Will you give me detention if I didn’t bring a notebook or a pencil?”

“I don’t know, you got lead in your pencil, Cas?” Dean said as he bounced his eyebrows.

“Hmm… that’s something you’ll have to check, I guess,” Castiel said as he rinsed his hair again. Screw it, let’s see how far we get with this. Dean is literally leering through the glass at his naked form. And he knew Dean wanted him—they had been doing this dance for years. It was time to see if he could put his money where his mouth was.

Castiel shut off the water, rolled back the glass door, and faced Dean in all his naked glory, water running down his body in rivulets. He knew he looked good. Dean raised his eyebrows and made a little “o” with his mouth while his eyes danced all around Castiel’s body.

“So, what’s the first step?” Cas tried his best to look nonchalant but in reality his heart was pounding in his ears, hoping finally taking this step wouldn’t blow up in his face.

“Well, I thought I’d just, kinda, ya know, tell you what to do,” Dean croaked out like his tongue needed to be dislodged from the roof of his mouth.

“Oh, well maybe you haven’t been a teacher for long, but you should know that students learn in different ways. And I happen to learn from being shown how to do something, not hearing what to do. You really want this lesson to stick, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ll...something about your stick,” Dean mumbled, his eyes following the trails of water making their way down Castiel’s form. 

Castiel grinned and his cock gave a small twitch that Dean clocked immediately, his eyes darting down from where they were focused intently on his left hip bone.

“Well then,” Dean said, grabbing a towel from the rack, “I guess I’d better get on with the lesson.”

“So, if you follow my instructions, you will be dry as the desert before you even step out of the shower and the bathmat will only be there to dry your possibly damp feet, no drips at all.”

“Hmm…are you sure your technique will work on me? I seem to have a lot of surface area to cover,” Cas ran his hands down his firm chest, “maybe some of it is left best to air dry.”

“No no, I think we need to cover every inch of your…surface.” Dean swallowed thickly, and focused on Castiel’s face, suddenly serious. “You ok with this? I feel like we’re about a cross a line here, Cas.”

“It’s a line I’ve been wanting to cross for a while now.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Dean’s voice was soft. “Is it okay if I touch you? I’d like to teach you properly, but I don’t want a misunderstanding.”

Castiel smirked, “By all means, sensei, show me how to wax on…and wax off.”

The air of seriousness thoroughly shattered, Dean snorted and stuck his face in the towel to chuckle, shaking his head from side to side.

Castiel gave him a soft smile and waited for Dean to approach. Dean started towards him, tentative. “Okay, well, I usually start with my hair but since you have longer hair, we’ll do that last. We don’t want our towel to be too wet. So just shake out your hair— without getting water outside of the shower. Like a wet dog.”

Castiel dutifully shook his hair out inside the shower.

“Good. Now, the first thing you do is dry your face.” Dean held the towel up to Castiel’s face and Cas put his hands up to rub his face with the towel, trapping Dean’s hands under his. Just that small amount of contact was electric to him. When he pulled the towel down just enough to peek over it, Dean had entered his personal space and gave him a soft smile.

“Ok,” Castiel breathed. “What’s next?”

Dean retracted his hands, leaving the towel with Castiel. “Next, you start at one shoulder and dry all the way down one arm and back to your armpit. Then do the same to the other arm. Very nice.”

Then Dean’s lips quirked mischievously as he crossed an arm over his chest, propped an elbow on his arm and put a hand to his temple. He feigned a terrible French accent and purred “No, no, do eet…slowly.” Castiel had been convinced to watch True Lies with Dean just the prior weekend so he quickly caught on to his imitation.

Castiel quirked an eyebrow and did his best to rub his armpit in a sultry way. He may not be doing anything to help Dean, but Castiel was a half hard under his intense gaze.

“Alright, now dry off your chest,” Dean rumbled. Then, remembering the bit, “…slowly.” Castiel worked the towel down his chest. Dean was eyeing the freckle that was just above his right nipple.

“And your stomach,” Dean continued, quieter, placing his hands over top of Castiel’s. Instead of leaving them there, Dean started a journey up his arms to his shoulders, squeezing his biceps slightly and kneading his shoulders. Dean’s forehead lowered to connect to Castiel’s lightly as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. Castiel’s breathing hitched as Dean made a small humming noise in his throat that made Castiel’s eyes flutter shut. “You used my body wash, didn’t you?”

“I always do,” Castiel said in a very small voice, not wanting to burst the bubble of intimacy that had just been created. He was fully hard now and his stomach was dry, so he held the towel in between them, not sure what to do next. He felt very vulnerable with Dean being fully clothed. He wasn’t sure of Dean’s erection situation, but there was definitely an imbalance here.

“I know.” Dean pulled his face back, smiling slightly and opening his eyes. “I like that you smell like me.”  Slowly he leaned back in, giving Castiel a very light, tentative kiss. Castiel shut his eyes and when Dean retreated, he immediately leaned in for another, this one getting slightly less chaste as lips were slightly opened. Dean pulled back and smiled a radiant smile and returned his forehead to his resting spot.

“Okay,” he said smiling and closing his eyes again, “Break time is over, time to resume the lesson.”

Castiel let the towel go, allowing it drop onto his erection, and he placed his hands on his hips. Dean leaned back and caught the sight of him holding the towel with only his dick and laughed, once again shattering the serious mood.

“Nice rack, Cas. But don’t hang up the towel just yet, we are only halfway done. Go ahead and dry off your junk and your undercarriage and then we will work on the legs.”

Castiel laughed and started drying himself while Dean squeezed his eyes shut, pretending he wouldn’t look but popping one eye slightly open to sneak a peek anyway. Castiel was glad that the line they crossed didn’t remove the playfulness that he had enjoyed their entire time as roommates. 

“Ok, done,” Castiel said with one last swipe.

Dean kept his eyes shut for another beat and then pretended to peek cartoonishly until he was assured there was no more taint-drying happening. “Alright. Now here comes the important part. Are you paying attention?” Dean said with a suddenly serious look.

“I am currently standing at attention, sir,” Castiel deadpanned, straightening his posture but then inclining his head toward the tent in the towel he was holding in front of him.

“I see that. At ease, soldier. Well—you know what I mean,” Dean said as he reddened a bit. He cleared his throat. “Alright, so you want to dry off down one entire leg and foot, then pivot that dry foot out onto the bathmat. Then turn and dry the other foot and leg that is still in the shower up towards your butt….slowly.”

Castiel performed the maneuver perfectly, which placed him bent over in front of Dean.

“Verrry nice,” Dean purred from behind him, cocking his head to the side to admire the view. “Ok the only thing that is left is your back, which you want to start at the bottom and work your way towards your hair so that any drips from your hair are contained.”

Castiel flipped the towel over his shoulders and settled it at the top of his ass, working the towel back and forth up his back. He looked over his shoulder at Dean and saw him staring at his undulating back muscles. But once the towel uncovered his thighs and ass on its journey upwards, Dean couldn’t help but focus on those instead.

Dean bit his lip. “There,” he croaked and then cleared his throat. “Just slide the towel up to your hair and you’re done.” Dean came up behind him and started rubbing his hair through the towel softly. Castiel could just feel Dean’s erection through his soft lounge pants, resting right on the crack of his ass.

Dean pulled the towel off and leaned down to plant a few kisses on Castiel’s neck. Castiel shivered and pushed his hips back to grind on Dean’s cock through his pants. Dean sighed into his neck for a few moments before propping his chin on Castiel’s shoulder.

“And that, my friend, is The Dean Winchester Drying Technique. Guaranteed to leave you dry as a bone or your money back.”

“Oh, is that so?” Castiel grinned, leaning back into Dean’s warm body. “Then I’m afraid I would like a refund.”

Dean stopped his kissing. “Oh yeah, why is that?”

“Because my bone isn’t very dry,” Castiel gestured at his hard cock, which was glistening at the tip with a pearl of precum.

Dean peered down the length of Castiel’s body and then snorted into his neck. “Well, Cas, let’s see what we can do about that.”

Dean spun him around and started kissing him in earnest, licking the seam of his lips until Castiel granted him entrance. Castiel ran his hands down Dean’s clothed chest until he got to the hem of his shirt and then worked his way under the soft tee and around to his back, rubbing circles into the small of Dean’s back. Dean licked into Castiel’s mouth and their tongues began to slide together in a warm, slick dance that had them both moaning. Dean’s right hand slid behind him to hook around Castiel’s shoulder while his left hand reached up to caress his stubbled cheek.

When they broke for air, Castiel started to tug Dean’s shirt upwards. “I think you’re a bit overdressed for the conclusion of this lesson.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” Dean said, allowing Castiel to drag his shirt over his head. Castiel started kissing Dean’s jaw and worked his way down his neck, leaving small, open-mouthed kisses and kitten licks down to his shoulder. He sucked a small mark onto the dip in his clavicle before moving down to one of Dean’s dusky nipples. As he licked and teased his nipple, he tweaked the other one with his fingers. Dean was biting his bottom lip and moaning softly, rubbing Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel switched nipples to give equal attention before kissing down Dean’s stomach as he dropped to his knees.

Castiel nuzzled Dean’s straining cock through his thin pants, making the man above him throw his head back and sigh happily. Castiel started to run his fingers along the top of the pants, silently requesting permission to take them down. Dean’s hands joined his own and together they shoved his pants down. Dean’s erection got caught in the waistband and pulled down with the pants until it abruptly sprung free and smacked Castiel in the chin on its way back up.

Dean snorted a laugh, “I always knew you were one to take it on the chi—hnng!” His pun was abruptly cut off when Castiel licked up the underside of his cock and then swallowed it all the way down. Castiel slurped a bit coming back up and swirled his tongue around the head. He tongued Dean’s frenulum as he heard the man above him trying to steady his breath.

Castiel went down to the root once again and hollowed his cheeks on the way back up, sucking hard. Dean put his hands in Castiel’s still damp hair and held on for dear life. Castiel reached around and started kneading the globes of Dean’s ass in his hands, moaning around his cock, letting the vibrations drive Dean crazy.

Dean pulled back a little, making his cock pull out of Castiel’s mouth with a soft pop. He hauled Castiel up to his feet and started kissing him again.

“Not that I wasn’t enjoying that—I was enjoying it a little too much,” Dean grinned into Castiel’s mouth. “But I could only reach your hair and I’ve waited too damn long to get my hands on you.”

Their cocks lined up, Dean’s still slippery from Castiel’s saliva and Castiel’s positively soaking from the precum that had been steadily dripping due to neglect. They both moaned into a filthy kiss and started grinding together, connected skin to skin from their knees to their mouths.

Dean worked his hands between them and enclosed his hand around both their cocks. He started slowly running his hand up and down their lengths as Castiel’s hand joined his. They intertwined their hands to create a slick tunnel and started jerking earnestly, both thrusting deeply with their hips and moaning into each other’s mouths.

The pace quickened and their moans turned into pants, the two quite content to just share each other’s air. Castiel could feel Dean's cock get even stiffer as his thrusts became erratic. He reached down with his free hand and cupped Dean’s balls, massaging lightly and felt them tense and pull up towards his body in preparation to ejaculate.

Castiel surged forward and sucked Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth as Dean gave one last thrust and then began coming all over their joined hands. With an even slicker channel, Castiel gave two more thrusts until he was also covering their hands with warm cum that smeared on their bellies and dripped down onto their toes and the bathmat underneath them. Dean keened from oversensitivity as Castiel was finishing his orgasm and let out a rough breath when Castiel released his lip and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Well, well, it looks like you shouldn’t stand on this bathmat in socks again anytime soon,” Castiel chuckled, looking down and wiggling his squishy toes.

“Worth it,” Dean sighed, nuzzling into Castiel’s neck.

“Looks like I need another shower. Care to join me?” Castiel gestured.

“For sure, I need to proctor your final exam to make sure you pass,” Dean said, stepping into the shower and moving to the back to allow Castiel access.

Castiel leered at him. “Well, I may not be the teacher here, but I could give you a thorough exam in return,” Castiel quirked an eyebrow as he stepped into the shower and backed Dean into the tiled wall. Dean hissed as his back hit the cold, damp tiles, but moaned when Castiel started kissing his neck and moved to a spot just under his ear.

“Hmmm...I’m going to need some recovery time, but I’m sure that can be arranged,” Dean smiled as Castiel pushed away and went to turn on the shower.

“That’s okay, you can make me breakfast. I’ll be busy on RateMyProfessor.com for quite some time.”

Dean chuckled as he started rubbing his body wash into his roommate’s shoulder blades. “Never change, Cas.”