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Man In Uniform	By : oculophilia Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4794 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own nor have any affiliation to Supernatural, its characters, properities and the like. All belongs to powers above me, including Eric Kripke, CW, Warner Brothers, etc. No profit or such was made.

Chapter List
- 1-Man In Uniform
- 1
Title: Man in Uniform

Rated: MA

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Warnings: Sexuality (m/m, crossdressing, anal, etc.), profanity, spoilers for season 5

Summary: Neither know why Castiel is wearing a school girl uniform, but Dean's not about to pass such an opportunity up.

Notes: This is all my friend Cas's fault, but who's surprised by that? Anyway, though there's no specific episode or arch this takes place around, you could say the more later episodes, since Cas has been drinking in this fic.

Disclaimer: I own nada.

"I appear to be... inebriated."

Castiel didn't need to tell Dean, the hunter could see quite clearly for himself. Just a minute ago, Dean had been comfortably lounging on his hotel bed, by his lonesome while Sam was out doing some research. Just enjoying a beer, some softcore porn, when in teleported the angel of the Lord himself. Except his usual outfit of business suit and coat had been tossed aside to make room for... Well.

From the look of it, Castiel was in an all-too-small girl's uniform top, with buttons that had popped right off in favor for showing most of the expansion of his chest, the sleeves coiled awkwardly below his shoulders. Strangely enough, the tie was on perfect and neat, albeit around his naked throat instead of threading into a suit as proper. Then there was the short, short blue skirt that told Dean instantly this was a Catholic school girl outfit (he was a proud owner of the Naughty Nuns and the Sinister Sorority DVD series, you see). Dean could clearly see the peek of... female underwear? beneath the trimming. Top it off with lopsided knee socks, messied hair and an expression torn between suspicion and complete confusion, yes, Castiel was drunk.

"Incorrect," Castiel breathed. He rubbed at his temples. "I am... tipsy. Not drunk."

"Tipsy is maybe putting on some lipstick," Dean snickered, "not the entire gown." His eyes twinkled as he sat forward, devouring the sight of the near naked, tanned figure before him. "You bagged a school girl, huh? Damn, for an angel, you sure are kinky. I hope she was legal." He paused. "Well, I don't think anyone is necessarily near your real age, Edward Cullen, but... You know what I mean."

Castiel rose a hand, waved at him. "I did not... 'bag' anyone, Dean," he scowled. He was obviously a sensitive, uptight drunk.

"Then why the Hell are you wearing those clothes?"

Castiel frowned. "I don't remember," he grumbled.

Dean blinked before laughing. "You're not tipsy. You're hung-over," he insisted and raised his beer to him. "You must have been too shitfaced if you can't remember doing this crap. Don't try and tell me you've been 'tipsy' the past few days alone."

The angel frowned. "I did drink a whole keg or two a night ago," he muttered and Dean widened his eyes in awe and jealousy. "But I seem to have misplaced my clothes." He grumbled under his breath as he tried pulling the small top over his chest. "I am too embarrassed to go out in public to fetch new clothing."

Dean watched as Castiel continued to poke and prod at his skimpy outfit. He was talking, though nothing was being registered in the hunter's lust coated mind. Cas's muscles were more prominent as they curved against the thin, white material, the front of his chest open to lines and dips downward, his tanned belly completely exposed, nipples shyly slipping out from the edges. The skirt hung snug and tight around his protruding hip bones, allowing a peek of his pelvic lines before they dipped under the cotton. Then of course there was the fact the skirt was hardly hiding anything, peeks of orange flashing with every slight move he made. Castiel's long fingers tugged at the miniskirt, tried to pull it farther down, like some shy, coy, well, school girl.

"Dean."

The hunter blinked back to reality, looked from Castiel's thighs to his face. The angel was glaring between him and the TV, which was showing a soft sex scene. "Are you watching porn, Dean?" Cas inquired firmly.

"Yeah," Dean smirked, eyes flashing over the body beside him, "you could say that."

"Now is not the time for porn, Dean," Castiel lectured. Another tug of his skirt. "I must retrieve my clothes or--"

Dean stood quickly, hands up. "Nah, nah, what's the rush?" he purred. Castiel blinked before the hunter was at his side, wrapping the tie around one hand. "This isn't necessarily a bad thing, you know."

"These clothes make me uncomfortable," Castiel insisted. "I would like very much to get out of them."

"And in due time, I'd like you out of them, too," Dean leered. The angel widened his eyes, and it was apparent his hang over had not dulled all his senses. Especially his "Dean Winchester wants to screw someone right now" sense. "But let's take it..." Dean slipped one finger into the waistband of Cas's skirt, tugged him forward and towards the bed. He moved his face close to his, lips about brushing. "... Nice and slow."

"Dean..."

The hunter flopped down on the mattress, crossing his arms behind his head. "Tell you what," he chuckled, and quickly switched off the TV, "you give me this, and I'll happily go out and buy you brand new clothes. If you want, something new instead of the same old tax accountant get up."

"I have grown accustomed to my previous wardrobe, like a... third skin," Castiel mumbled.

Dean smiled. "Well, then, I'll get you a new suit and coat and all will be peachy keen in Cas's world again."

"'Peachy keen'?"

"Just." Dean rose a finger. "Earn it." He winked, clicked his tongue to cheek. "I'll be your sugar daddy."

Castiel narrowed his eyes until they were about closed. "'Earn it'?" he repeated. A deep frown crossed his face, still sporting a five o' clock shadow. "Are you implying I am a harlot, Dean?"

"No, no," Dean totally lied. He sat forward, cupped one of the angel's hips and pulled him clumsily next to the bed. "Just it's been a rough couple of weeks for us, and I haven't had any, you know, alone time or good-times-with-the-female-company lately, and well, you're here now and... Why pass up the opportunity?" He shrugged. "It'll benefit us both. You even more so, cause you're getting clothes, too."

Cas continued frowning, idly trying to pull the sleeve up his shoulder. Of course it refused to relent and just slipped back down. "I am not entirely... adverse to the idea..." he said softly. "Perhaps due to the remaining alcohol in my system..."

"I'll say you ain't 'adverse' to the idea," the hunter chortled and nodded to his skirt, which was now pitching itself a little. Cas wanted to punch his stupid human body's stupid, disgusting thing for betraying him. However, humans often needed their penises, and treasured them quite a deal.

Finally, Castiel sighed. "This must be quick, before Sam returns."

Dean gave two double thumbs up. "Just the way I like it," he sniggered and slapped hands against his thighs, lap open and waiting.

Castiel slowly crawled onto the bed, mattress shifting under his weight. He had become accustomed to such... activities with the hunter, but somehow being in these clothes made him more... embarrassed, ashamed. Not one to blush, he was probably beet red now as he climbed weakly forward. Dean stopped him before he could sit, stationed on his knees between spread legs.

"Your panties," Dean chuckled, "off."

Castiel scowled, but slowly dug thumbs into the sides of his underwear, sliding them down his thighs. Dean felt his pants tighten. He took the angel's hands before he could pull them past his knees. "Give me a sec," he mumbled.

Castiel was obviously lost. "What for?" he asked, as he knelt between the hunter's legs, underwear dangling at his knees with a fresh blush on his face. Oh, yes, what for indeed.

After the image was permanently embedded into his memories, Dean swished a hand. "Yeah, sorry, continue," he tittered. Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes before sitting back, sliding the panties down his legs, each movement of lace on silky skin making Dean's erection twitch. The angel tugged the underwear off his ankle, held it up with a disgusted glare.

It was a pair of frilly orange panties with yellow trim, nearly transparent. "I do not understand how any of this happened," he mumbled, completely stumped as to just how he managed to get these on.

"I ain't complainin'," Dean chortled. He snatched the underwear from his hands, tossed it aside like all the others before it, letting it drape the lampshade. He reached for the hanging sleeves, yanked Castiel forward and into a kiss. Cas fumbled into his lap, coming to a sit, feeling Dean's clothed erection rubbing against his. Dean bucked forward as he sunk his tongue inside Castiel's hot mouth, and when he earned a whimper at the friction he accidentally created, he ground again. The angel breathed and groaned into his mouth, frot back, grinding naked flesh to levi.

Dean broke the kiss first, dropping his head back to take a deep breath of hot air. One hand scrambled inside the nightstand, instinctively reaching for-- Cas took his hand, shoved a small tube of lube into his palm. Well, it seemed Dean wasn't the only one anxiously wanting this. Chuckling against plump, wet lips breathing against his own, Dean thumbed open the cap and squeezed a few dollops into his other hand.

"Let's try not to get too messy, yeah?" Dean teased and gave Cas's bottom lip a small nibble. Castiel nodded drowsily before taking the tube, squirting a portion onto his palm. One hand pawed hard at the hunter's erection. Dean hissed lightly as long, playful fingers slowly eased down his fly, slipped inside and found him, the cold, smooth liquid meeting hot, sensitive skin.

Dean just laughed, at a loss for words. He let his hand run up along the back of one thigh, up along a cheek, leaving behind a thin trail of the lube as his hand tucked under the skirt. He squeezed his ass and sent Castiel's grip tightening around his cock as he pumped it nice and slow. Heavy pants and groans spoke for them as they prepped each other; Castiel continued stroking, lubing up his dick, Dean's fingers penetrating his ass and tugging at the sphincter. He pushed back into the fingers, wanting, needing more.

Finally, wordlessly, both men withdrew. Castiel took Dean's face in his wet hands, pulled him close to seal another kiss, tongues grinding against one another. Dean let shaky hands wrap around his bare thighs, over the waistband of the skirt and bulging hip bones, pulling him closer as knees brushed along bedsheets, digging right against his own hips. Then, lips drawn back, breathing in what the other exhaled, they studied each others eyes, glazed and husky, before Castiel bit his teeth together and lowered himself, slowly accepting Dean inside of him with a low, tight groan. Dean gave a soft gasp at initial entrance, so smooth and hot, fitting perfectly.

Slowly, Castiel began grinding, hips undulating back and forth. Dean moved along with him, in and out. The speed went from relaxing and slow to fast much too soon, as the two realized they had to hurry. Castiel growled between bared teeth, riding and pounding. Dean cupped the back of his head, grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked him down into another kiss, forcing his tongue damn near down his throat, tasting all that he had claimed time and time before. He tore his mouth away for air, Castiel dipping forward to bite into his ear lobe, giving it a small tug with his teeth.

Faster, now, faster. Castiel bounced, pressing down harder each time. The tension was growing, and he knew he'd be close to coming soon. Dean clawed at his hips, one free hand working its way past the uniform top, taking a nipple and pinching it hard between two fingers. Castiel gasped, arching back smoothly, taking Dean with him as he kissed his stomach, let his teeth graze over a hip bone and bite, before Dean was on top of him, pounding into him harder. Castiel let his fingers latch onto Dean's back, one leg hooked around his waist as he held on.

It had come to the both of their attentions that Dean had somehow become keenly aware of when Castiel was about to come. It had something to do with the way his eyes rolled back, the way he gave a specific type of whimper moments before he climaxed. The tell-tale signs were showing, and Cas gave a soft moan and wiggle as he rose into Dean. The pressure was enough to send him into release, Dean careful to shift back and up to avoid the spill.

Cas continued to move his swollen, tired hips with Dean's rhythm until he reached his own end, grunting as afterglow washed through his tired muscles. Dean wasn't too far behind, and when he came Castiel jerked upright as he felt his insides filled with heat. Just as he struggled to come back down from the high, Dean pulled out, causing a small convulsive twitch.

"Well," Dean chuckled, panting, "these sheets are ruined." He just laughed, sitting back and letting the heat roll off of him. Castiel grumbled something and turned on his side, his back giving a quick pang. He'd grown a bit accustomed to such, however, and usually the soreness numbed a few minutes later.

"I certainly hope I've 'earned' my clothes," Castiel scowled, though he was too sleepy to be offended. He wobbled painfully to jellied knees and weak ankles, giving a sway as his equilibrium and spine attempted to balance.

Dean watched as Castiel walked about the room, attempting to gather his bearings. He still wore the wrinkled, small uniform top and ruffled skirt now hiding his flaccid dick. His stomach was splotched with semen, while Dean's own ran ignored down his red thighs.

"Oh, yeah, buddy," Dean leered and fell back with a shit eating grin, "you earned it."

---

By the time Sam had returned, just a few hours later, everything was back to normal.

Castiel had managed to remember where he displaced his clothes just before Dean went out to buy him more. The school girl uniform had been trashed, even though Dean had asked if they could keep it. Castiel glared at him as he shoved it roughly inside the dumpster. The blanket had been rolled up and tossed out for maid service to deal with, Dean comfortable in a new pair of pants. There was absolutely nothing suspicious about them at the moment, Castiel sitting clear across the room and Dean flipping through the channels.

Sam had come bursting inside, babbling on and on about his research. Dean and Castiel moved to him, the three sitting in a circle on both beds as they discussed his findings. Cas kept his distance from Dean--not just to avoid suspicion, but just because they were fucking did not mean Dean didn't appreciate his private space. And the conversation was getting deep, deep enough for Dean to forget the naughty activities that transpired earlier, when--

"Oh, really, Dean? Really?"

Dean and Castiel widened their eyes when Sam found the one object they had completely forgotten about. The younger Winchester removed the pair of panties strung on the lampshade, held it up with disgust to his older brother. "You couldn't just wait to bag a chick until after we're done with this mission?" he demanded.

"It's not what it looks like--"

"These are kind of big," Sam noticed and threw them forward. "I didn't know you were into plus size--"

"I am not fat," Castiel insisted.

And it was quiet for a long while after.

END
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Man In Uniform