Fic: Acceptable Vice (Supernatural; Dean Smith/Castiel, Explicit)
Title: Acceptable Vice
Author: misachan
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Smith/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Content Notes/Warnings: Alley sex, prostitution. Set in the "It's a Terrible Life" verse.
A/N salt_burn_porn tag! Written for the prompt love for sale. (Third time was the charm!)
Summary: Dean Smith has a dirty little secret.
*
Dean Smith had one vice.
Not even a vice. A teeny tiny little not-even-worth-mentioning-it indulgence. And he was allowed that one thing, right? He worked hard, kept himself up good, never gave anyone reason to complain. Dean figured all that allowed him one completely inconsequential skeleton in his closet.
He parked his Prius in the usual covered garage and started walking, watching the buildings get smaller and shabbier by the block. It wasn't the bad part of town, really, but he still always made sure not to park his car on the street here. The crime stats weren't so high that it was a sure thing to be stolen but there was no such thing as too careful, and anyway the last thing he'd want to do was ever have to explain what he'd been doing in this area this time of night. That's how rumors get started.
Dean flipped his collar up and buried his hands in his pockets as the faint drizzle turned into a steadier rain. Still not so bad, not even enough to make him regret leaving his umbrella in the car. He'd been keeping a eye on the weather report for most of the day and he hoped this was as bad as it got. Not that the night would be ruined if the weather kept turning, but being able to stay outside was part of the charm.
After about twenty minutes Dean paused outside a certain alley, nestled between a shuttered bar and an auto body he was pretty convinced was some kind of a front. He leaned against the bar wall, looking up at the broken neon Budweiser sign for a moment before letting out a two-tone whistle. A few seconds later a blue-eyed man stepped out, his dark hair wet and dripping in his face. “Hello, Dean,” he said, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I was beginning to think you weren't coming.”
Dean grinned. Everyone had that one thing that was bad for them: some people had a weakness for chocolate, or needed a couple fingers of single malt before getting to sleep. Dean Smith's was a hot as hell piece of rough trade every other Sunday at 11:25 PM.
Okay, so maybe it was a vice. Dean didn't feel all that inclined to apologize for that at the moment. “Never late for business, Cas,” Dean said, giving him an appreciative up and down look. “Once an appointment's in my book, it's kept.”
Cas grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the alley instead of responding; Dean took over and pressed him against the wall, taking advantage of an overhang that kept them mostly out of the rain. “What do you want from me this time?” Cas said, pitching his voice so low Dean almost felt the rasp. He fingered Dean's belt, sliding it out of the buckle but not completely undoing it. “I want to make sure you get your money's worth.”
“Never had a problem there,” Dean said, watching Cas' lips part as Dean ran his thumb along the line of his jaw. Cas' chin lifted up, all but begging Dean to trail his tongue down his neck and around that very inviting hollow of his throat. The taste of the water on his skin made Dean wish it had been raining every time they did this. “Why do you always act like you don't think I'm going to show, anyway?”
“I know your boss wouldn't like you seeing me,” he said, leaning back as Dean slid his hands past the waistband of his jeans.
“I'm off the clock.”
“He still...wouldn't like it,” he said, his voice hitching as Dean sucked on his collarbone.
Dean couldn't deny it was true. He was pretty sure this counted as the kind of “illegal activity” that would trigger the morals clause in his employee contract, actually. Somehow that knowledge was never enough to keep him from making that walk in the dark. To distract himself from all those pesky thoughts of consequences Dean pinned Castiel's wrists above his head and kissed him until he moaned against Dean's lips, his body all tight pressure against Dean's. “Jacket's new,” he said, the scent of the wet leather hitting Dean's system like a glass of the best bourbon.
“You gave me a very good tip last time.”
“And did you ever earn it.” Dean was still amazed he'd been able to walk back to his car that day. “You want to buy some nice clothes, I can help with that. I got an assistant who does my shopping for me.”
“What's wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing.” Dean undid the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper; Cas never wore underwear to their little meetings and he was already hard as Dean wrapped one hand around his shaft, earning himself a deep down in Cas' throat whine. “The vagrant-who-lives-out-of-his-car look works for some people.”
“I had a friend who dressed this way,” he said, not sounding all that insulted.
“Oh yeah? Was he a vagrant who lived out of his car?”
“That...that is a remarkably apt description,” he said, gasping as Dean kept working up and down his shaft. He wrapped one arm around Dean's neck, leaning up close enough to whisper in Dean's ear. “You like me in these clothes.”
God help him, Dean knew he did. “Like you better out of them,” he said, his own hard on pressing against the fabric of his slacks at the way that made Cas' eyes light up. “Hope the clothes aren't all new, 'cause they're about to get dirty. Strip.”
Dean stepped back as he stripped down, Cas' eyes locked on his face the entire time. When he was done Cas leaned back against the wall, everything about him one living invitation. Dean gave himself a few seconds just to stare, to watch the now steady rain run in rivulets down his body. He wished HR would be okay with him taking a picture of Cas just like this and hanging it up on his office wall.
Dean shook that off; no point in wishing for things that couldn't be. He pressed Cas back against the wall, his hands tight on Cas' hips and his tongue in Cas' mouth. Cas started sucking on Dean's tongue and that was his limit; Dean turned him around, giving him the second to brace against the wall as Dean unzipped his fly. He licked at the water running down Cas' back as he worked his erection through his open fly, stroking himself all the way hard and rolling on a condom. Dean slid one finger into Cas just do get things started and just that was enough to make Cas' hips buck against him. Cas had a little spot that completely took him apart and Dean kept fingering him until he found it. “There we go,” he breathed, Cas' head snapping back. Dean grinned, crooking his finger and working him over until the moans got so loud Dean reached up with his free hand to muffle them.
That was Dean's cue. The lube on the condom was usually enough for Cas and anyway, they both liked it a little rough; Dean felt Cas' hot breath against his palm as he slid in that first tight inch, the smothered moans just making Dean even harder. Dean raked his nails up Cas' stomach as he sheathed himself all the way in, pressing his face against Cas' shoulder. “Cas, you have no idea how much I look forward to this,” he moaned; Cas was so tight around him Dean could barely breathe. Cas started shaking as soon as Dean started moving, moaning Dean's name into his palm. He rocked his hips against Dean, urging him even harder, faster; when the moaned name turned to desperate cries Dean wrapped his free hand around Cas' shaft, the touch jolting Cas' whole body like he'd been hit with an electric shock. As Dean felt Cas start to come apart under him he imagined them doing this on Dean's desk. Imagined Cas stretched out in front of him while he took nuisance calls. Imagined him ready and naked and available all the time, hiding under the desk during meetings right under management's nose.
Cas whimpered, so close Dean could feel that edge; he kept Cas hanging there for another minute, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. “Cas, look at me,” he said, moving his hand from Cas' mouth to wrap tight around his waist. Cas looked over his shoulder, blue eyes impossibly wide. Dean always loved watching Cas' eyes as he came, the way black slowly overtook the blue as the climax took him. Cas gasped one more time, so breathless now even moaning was beyond him, his lips parted and nails digging into Dean's arm as he came over Dean's hand. Dean had barely been holding on himself and let go, the rush of his orgasm almost knocking him off his feet.
Cas' legs did go out from under him and Dean propped him against the wall, pressing against him shield him from the rain. Dean's own clothes were soaked through but he barely felt it, too focused on how hard Cas' heart was pounding. Cas' hands tangled in Dean's hair, pulling him so close Dean could feel each little shiver. “You think about what we talked about last time?” Dean said when got back enough breath to talk.
Cas pulled away, a faint smile on his face. “I don't think I'm meant for an office life, Dean.”
Dean fished a mostly dry handkercheif out of his pocket and wiped himself off, wrapping the condom up and tossing both away before zipping himself back up “It wouldn't be the way you're thinking,” he said. “I'm talking a legit job. Entry level, sure, but you're pretty sharp. Work your way up into accounting, maybe.”
“You would say that,” he said softly.
“Why not? I promise, no sexual harrassment.”
“Your boss wouldn't want me there.”
“He's not going to notice one more office drone.”
Cas kissed him. “They have plans for you. Plans that definitely don't include me.”
Dean felt guilt reach through him. It was true, if he did vouch for Cas and all this came out it would cause serious problems and Dean felt like a heel for even caring about that. “What you do is dangerous,” he said, indicating the alley around him and fully aware of the hypocrisy. “You can't keep this up forever. I...y'know, worry.”
“I don't do this out of necessity, Dean.” The rain had mostly stopped and Cas shook out his soaked clothes, squeezing out some of the water before putting them back on. “I do it because I want to.” He pulled Dean back against him, inviting him to linger under the overhang for a few more minutes. “It's a very small rebellion, perhaps.”
“I don't get you sometimes,” Dean said, shaking his head. He handed Cas a wad of cash, which was pocketed without Cas counting it. “If you need anything, you know how to find me.”
“That would be unwise.” Before Dean could question that Cas kissed him and man, was Cas good at that. “I'll be your secret as long as you keep me one.” Dean wasn't sure he understood that but was too buzzed and happy to care too much. “Have a safe journey home.”
“All right. See you in two weeks, then.”
“Don't keep me waiting.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.” Dean watched Cas disappear back into the shadows, fighting down the urge to follow him to see where Cas went when he wasn't with Dean.
He shook off that impulse. Nothing but crazy talk. Time to get back to his life, back to work, back to the corporate ladder and eyes on the prize.
And if no one knew what that two week countdown app on his computer was for, well.
Everyone was allowed one little secret.
-fin-
Author: misachan
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean Smith/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Content Notes/Warnings: Alley sex, prostitution. Set in the "It's a Terrible Life" verse.
A/N salt_burn_porn tag! Written for the prompt love for sale. (Third time was the charm!)
Summary: Dean Smith has a dirty little secret.
*
Dean Smith had one vice.
Not even a vice. A teeny tiny little not-even-worth-mentioning-it indulgence. And he was allowed that one thing, right? He worked hard, kept himself up good, never gave anyone reason to complain. Dean figured all that allowed him one completely inconsequential skeleton in his closet.
He parked his Prius in the usual covered garage and started walking, watching the buildings get smaller and shabbier by the block. It wasn't the bad part of town, really, but he still always made sure not to park his car on the street here. The crime stats weren't so high that it was a sure thing to be stolen but there was no such thing as too careful, and anyway the last thing he'd want to do was ever have to explain what he'd been doing in this area this time of night. That's how rumors get started.
Dean flipped his collar up and buried his hands in his pockets as the faint drizzle turned into a steadier rain. Still not so bad, not even enough to make him regret leaving his umbrella in the car. He'd been keeping a eye on the weather report for most of the day and he hoped this was as bad as it got. Not that the night would be ruined if the weather kept turning, but being able to stay outside was part of the charm.
After about twenty minutes Dean paused outside a certain alley, nestled between a shuttered bar and an auto body he was pretty convinced was some kind of a front. He leaned against the bar wall, looking up at the broken neon Budweiser sign for a moment before letting out a two-tone whistle. A few seconds later a blue-eyed man stepped out, his dark hair wet and dripping in his face. “Hello, Dean,” he said, flicking his hair out of his eyes. “I was beginning to think you weren't coming.”
Dean grinned. Everyone had that one thing that was bad for them: some people had a weakness for chocolate, or needed a couple fingers of single malt before getting to sleep. Dean Smith's was a hot as hell piece of rough trade every other Sunday at 11:25 PM.
Okay, so maybe it was a vice. Dean didn't feel all that inclined to apologize for that at the moment. “Never late for business, Cas,” Dean said, giving him an appreciative up and down look. “Once an appointment's in my book, it's kept.”
Cas grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into the alley instead of responding; Dean took over and pressed him against the wall, taking advantage of an overhang that kept them mostly out of the rain. “What do you want from me this time?” Cas said, pitching his voice so low Dean almost felt the rasp. He fingered Dean's belt, sliding it out of the buckle but not completely undoing it. “I want to make sure you get your money's worth.”
“Never had a problem there,” Dean said, watching Cas' lips part as Dean ran his thumb along the line of his jaw. Cas' chin lifted up, all but begging Dean to trail his tongue down his neck and around that very inviting hollow of his throat. The taste of the water on his skin made Dean wish it had been raining every time they did this. “Why do you always act like you don't think I'm going to show, anyway?”
“I know your boss wouldn't like you seeing me,” he said, leaning back as Dean slid his hands past the waistband of his jeans.
“I'm off the clock.”
“He still...wouldn't like it,” he said, his voice hitching as Dean sucked on his collarbone.
Dean couldn't deny it was true. He was pretty sure this counted as the kind of “illegal activity” that would trigger the morals clause in his employee contract, actually. Somehow that knowledge was never enough to keep him from making that walk in the dark. To distract himself from all those pesky thoughts of consequences Dean pinned Castiel's wrists above his head and kissed him until he moaned against Dean's lips, his body all tight pressure against Dean's. “Jacket's new,” he said, the scent of the wet leather hitting Dean's system like a glass of the best bourbon.
“You gave me a very good tip last time.”
“And did you ever earn it.” Dean was still amazed he'd been able to walk back to his car that day. “You want to buy some nice clothes, I can help with that. I got an assistant who does my shopping for me.”
“What's wrong with my clothes?”
“Nothing.” Dean undid the button on his jeans and slid down the zipper; Cas never wore underwear to their little meetings and he was already hard as Dean wrapped one hand around his shaft, earning himself a deep down in Cas' throat whine. “The vagrant-who-lives-out-of-his-car look works for some people.”
“I had a friend who dressed this way,” he said, not sounding all that insulted.
“Oh yeah? Was he a vagrant who lived out of his car?”
“That...that is a remarkably apt description,” he said, gasping as Dean kept working up and down his shaft. He wrapped one arm around Dean's neck, leaning up close enough to whisper in Dean's ear. “You like me in these clothes.”
God help him, Dean knew he did. “Like you better out of them,” he said, his own hard on pressing against the fabric of his slacks at the way that made Cas' eyes light up. “Hope the clothes aren't all new, 'cause they're about to get dirty. Strip.”
Dean stepped back as he stripped down, Cas' eyes locked on his face the entire time. When he was done Cas leaned back against the wall, everything about him one living invitation. Dean gave himself a few seconds just to stare, to watch the now steady rain run in rivulets down his body. He wished HR would be okay with him taking a picture of Cas just like this and hanging it up on his office wall.
Dean shook that off; no point in wishing for things that couldn't be. He pressed Cas back against the wall, his hands tight on Cas' hips and his tongue in Cas' mouth. Cas started sucking on Dean's tongue and that was his limit; Dean turned him around, giving him the second to brace against the wall as Dean unzipped his fly. He licked at the water running down Cas' back as he worked his erection through his open fly, stroking himself all the way hard and rolling on a condom. Dean slid one finger into Cas just do get things started and just that was enough to make Cas' hips buck against him. Cas had a little spot that completely took him apart and Dean kept fingering him until he found it. “There we go,” he breathed, Cas' head snapping back. Dean grinned, crooking his finger and working him over until the moans got so loud Dean reached up with his free hand to muffle them.
That was Dean's cue. The lube on the condom was usually enough for Cas and anyway, they both liked it a little rough; Dean felt Cas' hot breath against his palm as he slid in that first tight inch, the smothered moans just making Dean even harder. Dean raked his nails up Cas' stomach as he sheathed himself all the way in, pressing his face against Cas' shoulder. “Cas, you have no idea how much I look forward to this,” he moaned; Cas was so tight around him Dean could barely breathe. Cas started shaking as soon as Dean started moving, moaning Dean's name into his palm. He rocked his hips against Dean, urging him even harder, faster; when the moaned name turned to desperate cries Dean wrapped his free hand around Cas' shaft, the touch jolting Cas' whole body like he'd been hit with an electric shock. As Dean felt Cas start to come apart under him he imagined them doing this on Dean's desk. Imagined Cas stretched out in front of him while he took nuisance calls. Imagined him ready and naked and available all the time, hiding under the desk during meetings right under management's nose.
Cas whimpered, so close Dean could feel that edge; he kept Cas hanging there for another minute, wanting to draw it out as long as possible. “Cas, look at me,” he said, moving his hand from Cas' mouth to wrap tight around his waist. Cas looked over his shoulder, blue eyes impossibly wide. Dean always loved watching Cas' eyes as he came, the way black slowly overtook the blue as the climax took him. Cas gasped one more time, so breathless now even moaning was beyond him, his lips parted and nails digging into Dean's arm as he came over Dean's hand. Dean had barely been holding on himself and let go, the rush of his orgasm almost knocking him off his feet.
Cas' legs did go out from under him and Dean propped him against the wall, pressing against him shield him from the rain. Dean's own clothes were soaked through but he barely felt it, too focused on how hard Cas' heart was pounding. Cas' hands tangled in Dean's hair, pulling him so close Dean could feel each little shiver. “You think about what we talked about last time?” Dean said when got back enough breath to talk.
Cas pulled away, a faint smile on his face. “I don't think I'm meant for an office life, Dean.”
Dean fished a mostly dry handkercheif out of his pocket and wiped himself off, wrapping the condom up and tossing both away before zipping himself back up “It wouldn't be the way you're thinking,” he said. “I'm talking a legit job. Entry level, sure, but you're pretty sharp. Work your way up into accounting, maybe.”
“You would say that,” he said softly.
“Why not? I promise, no sexual harrassment.”
“Your boss wouldn't want me there.”
“He's not going to notice one more office drone.”
Cas kissed him. “They have plans for you. Plans that definitely don't include me.”
Dean felt guilt reach through him. It was true, if he did vouch for Cas and all this came out it would cause serious problems and Dean felt like a heel for even caring about that. “What you do is dangerous,” he said, indicating the alley around him and fully aware of the hypocrisy. “You can't keep this up forever. I...y'know, worry.”
“I don't do this out of necessity, Dean.” The rain had mostly stopped and Cas shook out his soaked clothes, squeezing out some of the water before putting them back on. “I do it because I want to.” He pulled Dean back against him, inviting him to linger under the overhang for a few more minutes. “It's a very small rebellion, perhaps.”
“I don't get you sometimes,” Dean said, shaking his head. He handed Cas a wad of cash, which was pocketed without Cas counting it. “If you need anything, you know how to find me.”
“That would be unwise.” Before Dean could question that Cas kissed him and man, was Cas good at that. “I'll be your secret as long as you keep me one.” Dean wasn't sure he understood that but was too buzzed and happy to care too much. “Have a safe journey home.”
“All right. See you in two weeks, then.”
“Don't keep me waiting.”
“Wouldn't dream of it.” Dean watched Cas disappear back into the shadows, fighting down the urge to follow him to see where Cas went when he wasn't with Dean.
He shook off that impulse. Nothing but crazy talk. Time to get back to his life, back to work, back to the corporate ladder and eyes on the prize.
And if no one knew what that two week countdown app on his computer was for, well.
Everyone was allowed one little secret.
-fin-