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"Night, Cas," Dean called out softly to the angel as he slid under the blanket. Sam was sprawled out in the bed next to his already asleep. It was one of the rare instances Castiel stayed overnight in the hotel with them. Usually, he would leave because Dean said watching them sleep was creepy. However, they were hunting a rogue angel, and Dean insisted that Castiel stay in the warded room with them instead of going off to get himself into trouble. Castiel argued with Dean before giving up, sullenly sitting at the table in the hotel room, and using Sam's laptop to monitor the local news and police reports.
After a moment, Castiel responded, "Good night, Dean. Sleep well. I'll try not to do anything stupid until tomorrow."
Dean sighed. Snarky Castiel he could handle; dead Castiel was another story. Dean drifted off easily because the day had been long and exhausting. He awoke suddenly with the loud blare of music. He grasped the edge of the table. After his head cleared, he glanced around and realized he was in a strip club. Two women were dancing on the stage in very short shorts and halter tops, wearing cowboy hats and boots. He looked at them appreciatively. He muttered, "At least if I'm going to a bizarro world, this is starting out to be a nice one."
He looked around for Castiel and Sam and didn't see either of them. He sidled up to the bar and ordered a beer. The crowd was a mixture of men and women, equally split.
Sam's voice came from his elbow suddenly, "Hey, Dean."
Dean jumped as he was startled and spilled his beer down the front of his shirt, "Son of a bitch, Sam. I got to put a damn bell on you too now. What the hell?"
"We should go now, Dean."
Dean froze staring at the stage as a blonde woman in an angel costume came out, wearing a long, white robe. Next to her stood a leggy brunette dressed as a devil in a red flowing gown. The Aerosmith song, Devil's Got a New Disguise, blared out of the sound system, as the girls danced on the stage slowly removing articles of clothing. Dean felt his mouth go dry and licked his lips. It'd been a long time since he had a one-night stand. Sam continued to talk, but Dean didn't hear a word he said as he stayed fixated on the stage. He watched in fascination and realized at some point in removing the clothes the women had switched roles and the final bits of the costume had the blonde dressed in a very demonic looking bra and thong, while the brunette was in an almost demure white bikini. The two women gyrated their hips together until leaving the stage.
Sam said in an annoyed voice, "If you are done drooling, Dean, we should look for Cas, so we can get out of this bizarro world and go home."
"When did you get so annoying, Sam? Has it evolved slowly, or have you always been this way?"
Sam shot his best bitch face as Dean and ordered a whiskey from the bar. He glowered at Dean, as Dean relaxed against the bar watching the stage.
After the applause for the two dancers died down, Donna Summer's song Hot Stuff started.
Sittin' here, eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for some lover to call
Dialed about a thousand numbers lately
Almost rang the phone off the wall
Lookin' for some hot stuff, baby this evenin'
I need some hot stuff, baby tonight
I want some hot stuff, baby this evenin'
A man in a firefighter's outfit carrying an ax strutted out on the stage. His helmet obscured his face. He gyrated in beat and thrust his hips forward as he held the ax extended in front of him. He squatted and let the ax slide out of his hands to the floor. In cadence to the music, he stepped backward and pulled his jacket open. He slowly slithered out of his coat, showing a tight sleeveless muscle shirt underneath. His tan muscles rippled as he ran his fingers up and down his chest, thrusting his pelvis out.
At the bar, Dean stared with his mouth slightly opened. He knew Sam was still talking but ignored him completely.
Next, the man slipped off his helmet, showing the tousled black hair, chiseled chin, and piercing blue eyes of Castiel.
Dean stuttered, "Oh, my God."
Sam said, "Yeah, that."
Castiel did a forward flip, and as soon as he landed on his feet, he ripped the shirt off. He well-defined hip muscles peeked out above the low-slung pants. Dean told himself to look away, but he remained focused on Castiel. He stared slack-jawed as Castiel peeled his pants off, twirling them around his head, leaving a very brief pair of blue shorts underneath. Dean looked transfixed at his thighs -- who knew that under his holy tax accountant façade he was hiding this body. Dean held his breath as he could hear the last notes of the song playing. Castiel gave one more playful flip of his head, before pulling his shorts off and exposing the gold-colored thong. Castiel playfully wiggled his ass towards the audience and disappeared behind the curtains.
Dean's jeans were extremely uncomfortable. He knew it was obvious he had a hardon and looked at Sam nervously over his shoulder. Sam hadn't stopped staring at the stage.
Sam said, "Now, get this, according to the lore, angels…"
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Dean's eyes flew open as a door suddenly slammed in the hotel room. Castiel had his back to him, sitting rigidly. It was not an alternate reality, it was only a dream - a dream that left Dean painfully aroused, and Sam had just taken over the bathroom. After a moment, Castiel said in a stressed voice, "Good morning, Dean."
Dean swallowed nervously as he responded, "Good morning, Cas."
"I trust you had pleasant dreams."
"Ummm…" Dean gathered the blanket around his waist to hopefully obscure the tent in his boxers as he saw Castiel start to turn around.
Castiel looked at him earnestly, "Dean, I have to apologize. I invaded your privacy. I'm deeply sorry."
"You know what I dreamed about?"
"Yes, I’m sorry. I thought you were having a nightmare and I went to ease it, and I saw a flash of your dream. I never invade your dreams on purpose."
"Well, I put you in my dream, not you."
Castiel looked at him quizzically, "No, I touched you because I thought you were having a nightmare to chase the dream away. I saw the devil and angel women dancing and knew that I had mistaken why your heart rate increased and your breathing changed. I would never have violated your trust on purpose. I…"
Dean felt both relieved that Castiel didn't know he dreamed about him and guilty at the same time. He just had a very detailed dream about Castiel's body, yet Castiel was the one apologizing. "Cas, I don't mind. I know you only ever do what's best for me. Maybe, you got a little TMI, but it's all good. Ok?"
"How can I make it up to you?"
Dean bit his bottom lip as he thought of many ways Castiel could relieve some pressure at that precise moment. He inwardly shook his head as he tried to repeat to himself, "He's your best friend, he's your best friend." Dean tried to visualize being in a cold shower, slicing zombies into strips with a chainsaw, the unhygienic prostitute from his visit to the old west, everything and anything that could possibly make his mind veer away from sex and calm himself down. When he finally had things under control, he slid out of bed. He walked over to the angel and hugged him close. Castiel wrapped his arms around him and hugged him back. Castiel looked confused because hugs usually were usually reserved for when they were on their way to imminent death or they had been separated for a long time.
Dean said, "What you can do for me, Cas, is always be there. Don't ever change, and always be there."