A/N If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to just ignore the chapter and wait til the next one idk you do you boo

"I should probably start getting ready," Castiel says, pushing himself into a sitting position on the bed.

"And what does that entail?" Dean asks. "I'm trying to gauge how much free time we'll have afterwards."

"I don't know," Castiel says. "I'm basically just changing into my suit and leaving."

"I can help with that," Dean says, much to Castiel's confusion.

Dean reaches over and pulls of Castiel's shirt for him, tossing it carelessly on the floor. Castiel chuckles and presses a kiss to his cheek.

"Thanks, Dean, but I think I can handle this much myself," Castiel says.

"Oh, I'm sure you can, but where's the fun in that?" Dean says with a smirk.

Castiel shakes his head in amusement and stands up. "I swear, you're the horniest guy I've ever met."

"That's entirely possible," Dean agrees.

Castiel bends over to pick up the shirt thrown on the floor, and Dean lets out a low whistle.

"You should go to award shows more often," Dean says. "I'm really enjoying this so far."

Castiel chuckles. "Or I could not go to awards shows, and give you the same view at home."

"You know, I think I like that idea more," Dean says.

Castiel puts his dirty clothes in the plastic bag, then pulls his suit out of the closet. He puts it on effortlessly, tying the tie perfectly first try. The first few times he did it before awards shows, he accidentally wore it backwards, but he's done this way too many times since then to not know what he's doing.

"Hey, Cas, come over here," Dean says. "I want to fix something."

Castiel cocks his head in confusion, but decides to let Dean fix it anyway. If there's something wrong with what he's wearing, people are definitely going to comment on it, so he might as well let Dean help him out.

"Turn around," Dean says, his hands gliding across Castiel's waist as he turns to face away from the crippled boy.

Dean pulls Castiel's pants down below his butt, then sticks a hand under the hem of his boxers and pulls them away from his body a little bit.

"What are you fixing right now?" Castiel asks, confused.

"I'm fixing the fact that I haven't seen your ass today," Dean says, completely matter-of-factly without a hint of humor in his voice, which just makes it funnier.

Castiel doubles over in laughter. "Dean, literally, what the fuck?"

"In my defense, it's been almost 24 hours," Dean whines. "You haven't taken a shower since last night, and it's just been really hard to live like this, okay?"

Castiel shakes his head in amusement. He glances at the alarm clock next to the bed. 10 minutes until he has to leave. He has plenty of time.

"Here," Castiel says. "Let me fix that for you."

Castiel hooks his thumbs under both his boxers and pants and takes them up in one smooth movement. He walks over to the closet across from the bed and drapes them over the bottom bar of a hanger, but his boxers fall off almost immediately. He rolls his eyes. Well, he's the clumsiest son of a bitch he's ever met.

"I like your way of fixing things," Dean says with a grin. "How 'bout we fix things a little further, hmm? I haven't even touched your bare ass in ages."

"Oh, well, that won't do," Castiel agrees. "Let's change that."

Castiel crawls back on the bed, and Dean pats his lap. With a small smirk, Castiel sits down on him, straddling his hips with their faces just inches away from each other. Dean wraps his arms around the other boy's torso and lies down, pulling Castiel on top of him.

Dean rubs Castiel's bare ass slowly, and he's embarrassed to admit how much it turns him on. It seems he doesn't have to admit it, anyway, because his dick is more than happy to let Dean know he's doing everything right.

"Oh, do I feel what I think I feel?" Dean asks teasingly.

Dean rolls them over so now he's on top, and he crawls backwards just a little bit to see Castiel's dick starting to get hard.

"But Cas, you have to leave soon," Dean says, posing it as a much bigger problem than it is. "You can't leave with a boner. I guess I'll just have to help with that."

"Oh, you will, huh?" Castiel says, a slight smirk on his lips. "And how are you going to do that?"

Dean wraps a hand around the other boy's dick, jerking him off much easier than Castiel's ever done to himself. It doesn't take long for him to orgasm, and he throws his head back against the pillow, biting back a moan.

There's a few seconds of silence after that, just giving Castiel a moment to enjoy himself.

"Oh, look, now you're all messy," Dean says teasingly. "You can't go to the Grammys like that. I guess you're just stuck here all night."

Castiel chuckles. "You know, you'd almost have me sold if I hadn't already confirmed that I was going."

Dean sighs dramatically. "I guess we'll just have to have our fun later."

Castiel shakes his head in amusement. "I'm gonna go get cleaned up, and I'll be right back, okay?" He presses a kiss to Dean's lips, then heads to the bathroom to wash the lower half of his body, just to make sure he's all ready for the Grammys. If this is going to be his first real, scheduled public appearance since the terrorist attack in June, he's not letting anything mess it up.

When he returns to the bedroom, Dean gestures for him to come back to he bed. Castiel cocks his head in confusion but does so anyway.

"What's up?" Castiel asks.

Dean just reaches over and smacks his ass. "Okay, proceed."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "You're such a dork." He heads to the closet and grabs his boxers from the floor, ready to slide them back on.

"Woah, Cas, you can't do that," Dean says.

"What? Why?" Castiel asks, confused.

"They're dirty!" Dean say. "They've been on the floor!"

Castiel shakes his head at the boy. "I can still wear them, Dean. I think I'll survive."

"You can't wear dirty underwear," Dean protests, then, with a playful smirk, says, "I guess you'll just without them tonight."

Castiel chuckles. "Cute, but no. I'm gonna be on national TV. I'm wearing underwear."

"But that's no fun," Dean whines.

"If it makes you feel better, I'll wear the clean underwear I packed for tomorrow instead," Castiel says.

"And then you won't have any more clean underwear, and you'll do it on the way home, instead?" Dean guesses hopefully.

"No, I did pack underwear for the way home," Castiel says. "But you're really going all out on this, so yes, Dean. If it makes you feel better, I won't wear underwear tomorrow, okay?"

"Honestly, it really doesn't," Dean admits. "It just would've entertained me while I was watching the Grammys, just knowing that you're actually going commando and no one else knows. It's not the same if you don't do it today."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Then you're just gonna have to suffer."

"Compromise," Dean says. "You should just let me pick any day you're not on national television to go commando." He smiles hopefully, framing his face with his hands like an innocent little angel.

Castiel chuckles. "Okay, you know what? If we argue any longer, my limo's gonna leave without me. I'm leaving."

As Castiel slides his pants and underwear back on, Dean says, "Okay, but are you taking my deal?"

Castiel walks over to him and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "I'll see you tonight."

"But was that a yes?"

Castiel purposely doesn't answer at first, just walking straight to the door. Just as he's about to leave, he calls back over his shoulder, "Compromise accepted."

He can hear Dean's cheering through the closed door, and he laughs to himself. God, Dean is such a dork.