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Practice Makes Perfect	By : KittyAugust Category: Supernatural > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1147 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Practice Makes Perfect
- 1
“Wh- what?” Dean stammers.
“I said, do you want to go first or should I?” Cas sounds exasperated with him already.
“You, ahh…” Great start Winchester. “You actually wanna…?”
Dean can’t find the end of that sentence so he just gestures to his lower body and raises both his eyebrows and hopes that’ll communicate ‘blow me’ without giving away the ‘fulfil half the illicit fantasies i’ve had since we were 13’ bit.
“I don’t see why not,” Cas says simply. He closes his Trigonometry textbook with a loud slap that makes Dean jump. “We’ve practiced on each other before? This isn’t any different. Is it?”
“No?” Dean says and hears uncertainty in his voice. It had been a joke. Kinda stupid, slightly thrilling, but not serious. Castiel is his best friend, his nerdy, awkwardly hot, best friend, and he didn’t really mean it that way. Yet… Cas was right it wasn’t that different from the stupid practice kissing all the way back in 9th Grade. It was just-
“So,” Cas asks again. Dean’s eyes snap back to his face. Cas is determined, blue eyes bright, but looking at Dean like he might actually devour him. The look makes it a little hard to breathe.
“Do you want to go first or should I?” Cas continues. “What do you want, Dean?”
Cas is just sitting there like this is normal - wearing his stupid sweater vest (the dark blue one that makes his eyes shine). He stares at Dean, one eyebrow firmly raised, and waits for an answer. Dean knows that look - it’s a dare and a challenge. Damn it.
“Um, you? I mean me with… or-” Dean looks away from his best friend’s face. “I don’t mind...” Dean finishes lamely. He can’t bring himself to say ‘I want to suck your dick, Cas’ not out fucking loud, not when he means it.
Cas nods, shrugs and then surges forward in an act of singular determination. Before he knows what’s happening Cas is up on Dean’s bed with him, and straddling his lower legs. Dean swallows through the hot tension in his throat. Just like that Castiel Milton is right on top of him. He leans in so close Dean can almost taste him, but instead of a kiss Cas just grins and grabs the comic book out of Dean’s hands and tosses it aside. Cas doesn’t even hesitate after that, goes straight for the fastenings on Dean’s jeans.
Cas rucks up Dean’s tee-shirt, has firm hands on Dean’s sides. Then he moves in, swift and sure, to nuzzle into the sensitive, summer warm skin of Dean’s hip, right along the bone and down… Dean can feel Cas’ breath against his skin.
“Up,” Cas says, in that gravel and sex voice that makes Dean’s bones ache. It doesn’t even occur to Dean to disobey, he’s lifting his hips and letting Cas pull his jeans halfway down his thighs before he’s even really realised what is happening. Really freaking happening.
He’s dreamed about something like this more times than he likes to admit. But in his fantasy it was always Dean taking the lead. He had all the experience- it should have been him who knew what was going on. Cas doing 7 minutes in heaven with Meg didn’t count and even if there was something u with Hannah she’s a promise ring wearing good girl - Dean’s almost certain Cas is a total virgin, but… oh wow-
Cas really isn’t going to think twice about this. Fuck. He pulls Dean’s jeans and boxers half way down his thighs. Which is apparently enough for him because then- oh god then, Dean’s cock is free and seems to be much further along with the play than Dean’s brain because it is a lot more than half hard, and flushed and burning ready. Cas gives it a cursory, but determinedly curious look like Dean is a particularly problematic Bio experiment. Which he is, arguably. Dean tries not to wriggle away and tries not to panic under inspection. Cas leans in impossibly closer and breathes hot across the sensitive erectile skin. Dean’s breath catches again, and Cas looks up at him. Dean isn’t panicking. He refuses to. This isso happening. And again his cock seems to know how to react before he does. With Cas this close he’s getting harder by the second, Cas has his full attention, to the point it fucking aches.
Sweet, blissful relief arrives in the form of his best friend’s tongue. They haven’t even kissed in over four years and Cas is freaking licking his dick. Dean’s hears the whimpered half sobbed sound that comes out of him when it happens and he can’t even blame himself. Because goddamn that feels good. Way better than this kind of odd lapping motion has any right to feel. That’s what it is too. Cas is frigging lapping at him, short then long, wet, warm licks. Tasting, exploring. No girl has ever done that, but he’s also pretty sure no girl has ever been that interested in his dick. Dean makes that noise again because he can’t help it.
When Cas takes the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth Dean’s eyes roll shut and he can’t help arching up into it for a moment. It’s hot, and wet, and fucking perfect. Dean moans into it and risks another look. Cas is right freaking there, legs spread out across dean’s and pinning him in place (and that feels good in itself, good in a way that Dean files away for later consideration). His hair is even more of a mess than usual. And he’s just so into it-
“Damn, are you sure you haven’t done this before?”
Cas slides his mouth off Dean, slick wet and licking all the way. Burning hot pleasure follows his best friend’s tongue off his cock.
“I’d like to think you’d remember if I had,” Cas says with a cavalier smirk.
“No, I mean… like, at all…” Dean fumbles. Feels too hot all over but at least it gives him a few seconds to get a hold of himself.
“So did I.”
Dean isn’t sure how to take that so he closes his eyes and focuses on the heated pleasure that coils through him as Cas returns enthusiastically to his experimentation with Dean’s dick. Dean leans back and closes his eyes. Just feels it because seeing it too is too much.
A hand comes into play pretty quickly after that. Oh god that is Cas’ hand on his cock. Cas can’t take him very deep but god that doesn’t matter. He flicks his wrist in a way that’s practiced - on himself, if no one else. That thought is way too hot and this isn’t going to last long anyway. Dean tries baseball scores, he does, but- fuck. That is so slick and fucking warm, hot now. Deep tendrils of pleasure rolling through him. Following each blissful slide of Cas’ tongue and mouth and hands. That is actually Castiel Milton sucking his actual dick. Holy fu-
The coil of need pulls tight inside him, becomes an urgent throbbing heat that makes his toes curl like a freaking girl. And fuck- he tugs on Cas’ hair, and god damn it why didn’t he get his hands in there before. It’s satin soft and it makes Cas make a humming sounds and god- it’s almost enough to distract him but not quite.
“Cas,” Dean hisses. “Cas, I’m gonna…”
And that’s all she wrote. He’s coming in his best friend’s mouth, and it’s the best thing pretty much ever. And holy fuck- Cas chokes a little, which twists another shudder of shivering heat out of Dean, so he’s going to Hell then but it was probably worth it. Then Cas pulls back, tongue out and mouth open like a porno and ends up with a slick line of Dean’s cum on his chin. It’s Dean’s turn to choke on how hot that is. Cas fucking winks at him then and slides his thumb across his chin. He wipes the stripe of cum into his mouth and tastes it, makes his ‘not bad’ face and then he’s grinning like the fucking sun again. Dean just stares at him for a few long panted breaths. There’s still a couple drops of cum on his face, and his hair’s a mess, and his eyes are shimmering bright. That damn blue vest thing is all rumpled. And fuck, Dean did that (kind of). Dean was totally part of what made Cas look like that and if he wasn’t completely spent he’s pretty sure his dick would have some thoughts on that too. He swallows.
Cas is still looking back at him with heated intensity. Still pleased with himself, still confident, still a challenge but there’s something else there now too. Something that would be hesitation on someone less, well less Cas. Dean thinks he should say something but he can’t find any words that work. Cas sits back a bit. Leans back and stretches. He does it all the time, a cat-like stretch and sigh that’s always been able to get Dean’s blood going at the best of times. It is both totally familiar and somehow new too in the face of all… this. Dean’s eyes slide to Cas thighs taught across Dean’s legs, the fabric of his slacks is pulled so tight across them it is almost obscene. And, oh wow, Cas is totally hard right now. And Dean looks away blushing into his already post-sex flush. But then he remembers that Cas is hard for him. Hard for Dean. Which means he’s allowed to look right, maybe even allowed to touch-
“Dean,” Cas voice gets Dean’s attention. “Do you, want to, um...” there’s that incongruous hesitation again. “Try it?”
Cas shrugs one shoulder. Phrases it like a real question instead of dare. Like he thinks there’s a universe that Dean might say no. Like it is possible that this might not be everything he’s wanted to do for years.
“Hell yeah,” Dean says grinning back. Dean moves so fast that Cas ends up almost thrown back. Dean gets his hands back in Cas’ hair and pulls him close, kisses him like they never should have stopped kissing. Hot and desperate and just this side of too fucking much. And Cas kisses him back like he agrees, like he wants this, like he wants Dean and all the broken baggage that comes with it. Kisses like forgiveness and opportunity and making up for lost time- they kiss like a prayer. It’s a little salty, not bad but enough that it makes Dean smile, then laugh into it.
Cas pulls back. Not quite taken aback but puzzled, tilts his head, like he does. Curious and waiting for Dean to explain. Deeply familiar and brand new. Waiting-
“Cas,” Dean whispers into the scant inch between them. He puts a hand on Cas’ neck to hold him close, hold them close to this. Rests their foreheads together. “Cas, if I do…” Dean looks at Cas’ pink bow mouth for a moment then averts his eyes. “If we do this, I don’t think I’m gonna want to stop.”
He’s almost certain. He felt it in the kiss, he saw it in Cas’ eyes. Has probably seen it hundreds of times before and just pushed it back. He’s almost certain, but he blushes anyway. Feels an embarrassed heat under his skin chasing the remains of an earlier erotic one. He forces his eyes back up-
And if Dean thought Cas’ smile was the sun before, then this one is the whole freaking universe.
“I think i can agree to your terms, Dean,” Cas says, his serious tone belied by his smile.
Then Cas kisses him, like he wants to seal an eternal deal. This kiss is more like slow and sweet promise and Dean melts into it until he can turn it hot again. He kisses and bites his way up Cas’ jaw. Dean pulls the other boy in close and bites his ear, soft but just firm enough to make Cas moan for more.
Then, Dean whispers through a smirk, “it’s my turn, Cas.”
- 1
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Practice Makes Perfect