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Once he had done some research, Castiel had come to the conclusion that road head was just too distastefully dangerous to risk.
Unfortunately for Castiel's "try anything once" attitude and Dean's "try anything Cas wants to try" attitude, oral sex in a moving vehicle would have to remain one item forever unchecked on Cas's fairly extensive list. It was a shame, though a necessary one.
Castiel simply couldn't fathom why, given the inherent risk, anybody would be interested in putting such a fragile piece of their anatomy in the jaws of another person while engaging in an activity that requires quite a bit of focus. He was fairly certain that the quality of his blowjobs would be sufficient to seriously divert Dean's attention from the road.
It was a good thing pride wasn't actually a sin, because Cas was damn proud of that one thing he could do with his tongue.
"Penny for your thoughts, Cas?"
Cas gaze slid over to Dean, considering. They still had a long ways to go before their estimated time of arrival back at the bunker. Perhaps...
"I was pondering the merits and disadvantages of road head."
Dean blinked, cleared his throat, and adjusted his hands on the Impala's wheel.
"Umm, you were?"
A soft smile played at Castiel's lips as he watched a blush creep up from under the collar of Dean's leather jacket.
"Yes. Unfortunately, I don't think it's a very viable option. It's simply not safe for you. You know how I feel about safety, especially yours."
Dean glanced at Cas and quirked a smile before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, don't I know it." His smile turned fond. "I feel like you care more about my safety than I do."
"Your safety is very important to me, Dean," Cas said, voice dipping low with intent. "Which is exactly why you're not going to take your eyes off the road again for the rest of this trip."
Dean snorted, leaning back in the bench seat. "Shouldn't be too hard. Look at all of these endless miles of fascinating highway. How could I possibly bear to look away?"
Castiel deftly removed his own belt, the buckle clinking as he pulled it loose from his slacks.
Brow furrowing, Dean made to turn his head. "Cas, what-?"
"Eyes on the road, Dean. Don't attempt to remove your attention from it again."
Dean swallowed heavily, the tone Cas had taken with him going straight to his dick. He resettled his eyes on the road.
Cas's hand slid down, gripping himself gently through the material of his slacks. He sighed at the pressure. Dean clenched his teeth.
Cas slid a little lower in the seat and continued to palm himself gently, the easy stimulation perfect on his steadily thickening cock. His other hand rose to the buttons of his shirt, steadily baring more skin to the cool air inside the Impala.
Dean adjusted his grip on the wheel a second time and tracked the movement in his peripheral vision hungrily. Cas's hips were undulating against the pressure of his hand, grinding up into his palm in a delicious rhythm. Dean subtly tilted his head to the side to get a better look. Cas head was thrown back, his eyes were lidded, slivers of blue trained on Dean. Shit.
"Look at the road, Dean. I thought you were a more conscientious driver than this." He smirked.
Sadistic bastard. Dean returned his attention resolutely to the road. Cas wanted to play? Fine. He'd play.
Cas popped the button on his slacks. Dean's resolve took a major hit.
Then the fucker started talking.
"O-oh! Dean. This feels, oh." Cas sighed, gripping himself under his boxers. "So good, Dean, so good. Uhhn, I wish you could touch me, Dean, wish it could be your hand wrapped around me so warm and so tight." His free hand went to his mouth, words halting for a moment as he sucked on them sloppily. He pulled his hand free from his mouth with a wet pop and tugged on his nipple. "This feels so good, Dean, so incredibly good." Castiel groaned, hand working over his dick. Dean groaned, too.
"You're so good for me, Dean," Cas panted, tugging relentlessly at his dick. Where the hell had he gotten lube from? "So good, every day. Look at you, right now, ohh yes, doing exactly as I've instructed, so good." Cas gentled his movements, hand slowly sliding up and down as he focused all of his attention on Dean. "You're always perfect for me, Dean. You try so hard and you're so, so beautiful." His strokes slowly returned to their previous intense pace, Cas's breath again escaping in pants. "Dean I can't, fuck, I will never be able to explain to you how perfect you are." Cas slicked his hand over himself once more and came with a twist of his wrist, sighing Dean's name.
"Cas-" Dean cleared his throat. "You, ah, feelin' good there, buddy?" Dean spread his legs in an effort to ease the pressure in his groin and just barely suppressed the urge to chuckle hysterically.
Cas hummed contentedly, cleaning himself up with the napkins he'd swiped from the glove box. "I'm feeling very well, Dean. Thank you for asking." He deposited the napkins in an old fast food bag, and grinned at Dean brightly. "I'm very proud of you, Dean."
Dean flushed, embarrassed at the praise. But-
"But, uh, Cas, I didn't actually do so well. At the beginning. I, well, I may've snuck a look. Or two."
Cas smile turned warm as he tucked himself back into his slacks. "You did incredibly, Dean, especially when it was so unexpected."
Dean cleared his throat again. "Well, umm, thanks, but," He flushed deeper. "I, uh, still think you should, uh, punish me."
Cas' brow, which had briefly furrowed with concern as Dean stumbled over his words, smoothed out into wry amusement. "Well, Dean," he said, his voice dipping into that region that made Dean's cock throb, "I guess I have some, ah, plans to make for when we get back to the bunker. Tell me, how do you feel about edging? For a very, very long time."