(If you're following "The Secret Ingredient", don't worry. I'm not stuck. This is just a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone.)

This one really wanted to be porn, but I made it eat up all its character development before I would let it have any smut. Happy reading, and please leave a review if you like it =)

He wasn't snooping. He was looking for a scarf to complete his Doctor Who costume for Halloween and Dean's secret literally fell into his hands. Or rather, on his head. The sharp pain caused him to lose his balance on the step stool and fall backwards onto his ass which hurt even more.

"Cas?!" The crash brought Dean running from the living room where he'd been watching football, but by the time he got there Cas had all but forgotten the pain, distracted by the things that had spilled out of the shoe box when it tumbled to the floor along with him.

Delicate, lacy things in a whole rainbow of colors.

"Oh, shit," Dean said, his face turning approximately the same shade of red as the silk panties that Cas was now holding up curiously. "Cas, I can explain."

Cas looked up at his husband, grinning from ear to ear, his smarting backside now the farthest thing from his mind. "I certainly hope so because this" — he looked from Dean to the red silk panties and back to Dean — "is a story I definitely want to hear."

"You're bleeding."

"Smooth change of subject."

"No, I'm serious." Dean crouched down next to Cas and gently touched his temple. Cas hissed in pain. "Yeah, that needs a butterfly. The corner probably caught you. You're lucky you don't need stitches. Cardboard can be sharp."

"If I let Dr. Sexy patch me up, will he tell me the story behind his secret pantie collection?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yes, fine. Just … Stand up carefully. Did you sprain anything?"

"Only my dignity."

"Ha. No. You don't get to complain about dignity right now. Falling on your ass is nowhere near as humiliating as … that." Dean gestured to the pile of lace, silk, and satin on the bedroom carpet while avoiding looking directly at it.

"Dean." Cas was on his feet now, and he stepped up close to Dean, wrapping his arms around his husband's waist. He could immediately feel the tension in Dean's back, the way he held himself so stiffly, not pulling away but not melting in Cas's arms like he usually did. "Dean, I was only teasing. Of course you don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but don't you know I would never judge you?"

Dean relaxed somewhat and started to lean his forehead against Cas's, but he remembered the wound and quickly pulled back again. "I know," he said, stroking Cas's cheek instead. "It's just … I've only ever told one guy, and he … He thought it was weird. Hell, it is weird."

"No, it isn't," Cas said firmly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You don't even know what the story is yet."

"It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it's a part of who you are, so naturally it's beautiful and perfect because you are incapable of being anything else. Whoever that man was, I hate him for making you doubt that. I am not him, okay?"

Dean nodded, his cheeks still pink and his eyes a little sparkly. "'kay," he mumbled and swooped in for a quick kiss before dragging Cas into the tiny master bathroom to play doctor, and not in the sexy way.

Cas sat quietly on the toilet lid and let his husband fuss over him. He didn't push or tease anymore. Dean would talk if and when he was good and ready and that was all there was to it.

"So," Dean said as he carefully secured the butterfly bandage to Cas's head, "in high school there was this girl. Rhonda Hurley. We weren't exactly friends, but she was a cheerleader and I was on the football team, so we hung out a lot, and in senior year she asked me out. I didn't really like her all that much. She was kind of a bully and she had the most annoying laugh I have ever heard, but she was drop dead gorgeous and no straight teenage boy in his right mind would have said no to her, and I really needed people to think I was straight."

Cas nodded. He already knew about that time in Dean's life. Now that Cas was patched up, Dean held his hands instead, idly playing with the silver band on his ring finger. It was a little less than two months old, and Cas still felt his heart do a giddy little dance every time he looked at it.

"So Rhonda and me became an item," Dean went on, "and fortunately for me she was the kind of girl who liked to be in control. All I really had to do was lie there and think about Harrison Ford or Gunner Lawless, and biology took care of the rest. I'm not proud of it, but she was using me too. Neither of us had any illusions that it was more than sex."

Cas squeezed Dean's hand, a silent reassurance that he still wasn't judging. Dean squeezed back.

"She was kinky too. She always wanted to try something new. Tying me up, blindfolding me, covering me in chocolate and licking it off."

Cas's eyebrows rose at that last one, and he made a mental note to buy extra Hershey's syrup the next time he went grocery shopping, but he didn't interrupt. Judging by the shade of red in Dean's cheeks, he was getting to the good part. And sure enough …

"One time she decided that she wanted me to wear her panties. They were pink and satiny and, God help me, I liked it. I mean I really liked it. I practically didn't need a fantasy to keep it up that time. It was the best sex I'd ever had until my first time with a guy."

Cas knew he should be focused on Dean right now, being a good listener and a supportive husband, but he found the image of young Dean discovering his very first kink incredibly erotic. He wished it had been him instead of Rhonda Hurley who'd gotten to share that moment with Dean. He would have made sure Dean felt completely safe and free to love every second of it without shame.

"Anyway," Dean hurried on, obviously trying to get this over with as fast as possible, "after that I bought some, um … stuff like that for myself. I wore them when I jerked off, but sometimes I also wore them under my clothes just because. I'd wear boxers over top so no one could see even when I bent over, and it made me feel … good. Not in a sexual way exactly. It just made me feel more like myself, less trapped in the straight guy act. It got me through the really bad days."

Cas couldn't keep silent any longer. "Oh, Dean," he murmured, leaning forward to kiss his husband's forehead, his cheeks, his nose, and each eyelid before finally capturing his lips, trying to convey without words, I'm here now. The bad times are over. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again.

Dean sighed into Cas's mouth, kissing back greedily, devouring the unconditional love and acceptance he had lived without for so long, and giving just as good as he got. They only parted when they ran out of breath, and Dean was flushed for a different reason now.

"Dean," Cas said hoarsely, "you can say no if this isn't something you're comfortable with, but I would really, really like to see you in a pair of those panties."

Dean stared at him open mouthed for a moment, then said, "Yeah. Okay."

"You're sure?" Cas stroked his cheek. "You don't have to do it just for me. I have never had any complaints about our sex life. I don't need the kinky stuff to make it exciting. Every time with you is the best sex I ever had no matter what we do."

"Cas." Dean was smiling for the first time since he'd seen the contents of that box spilled all over the floor in plain view. "It's okay. I want to. I want to do this with you." With you and no one else was implied both by the matching rings on their hands and the love and trust in Dean's eyes.

Dean led the way back into the bedroom and gestured Cas towards the pile on the floor. "You choose," he said shyly.

First Cas picked up each pair and laid them out on the bed like he was handling the crown jewels. He was drawn to a baby pink pair that reminded him of the story of that first time and the lonely, confused young man finally discovering something that made him feel good about himself. But then he saw a deep aquamarine that had a slight golden shimmer as it caught the light. It was just so perfectly Dean, there was really no other choice.

"I was kind of hoping you'd pick those," Dean said as Cas held them out to him. "They're my favorite." He started to undo his belt, then hesitated. "Cas, could you … could you close your eyes? Just this once. I know you've seen me naked plenty of times, but this is different."

Cas closed his eyes and covered them with his hands for good measure. He didn't peek even once, but as turned on as he already was, the suggestive sounds of clothes being shed were enough to get him half hard.

"Okay," Dean said at last, his voice trembling just a little. "You can look."

Cas opened his eyes and … His breath caught in his chest. Dean was gorgeous because Dean was always gorgeous, but the way the blue green silk brought out his eyes, even picking up on the flecks of gold, and the way it hugged his hips like it had been measured and cut just for him … It was the most erotic, sinful thing Cas had ever seen in his life, and yet somehow pure and innocent at the same time. Dean's cock was making a slight bulge in the crotch but only slight. He was still too nervous and self conscious to really get in the mood. Well, Cas could help with that.

"Fuck, Dean," he breathed, letting his voice go low and rough the way he knew drove Dean crazy.

There was noticeable movement beneath the thin fabric, and Dean made a soft, whimpery sound of pleasure. Cas wondered what that felt like, the touch of silk instead of cotton on a stirring cock. He'd have to try it some time, but right now this was about Dean.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, moving closer with slow, sinuous movements which served the dual purpose of looking sexy and telegraphing his intentions clearly so Dean wouldn't be startled. "So perfect. And all mine. God, how'd I get so lucky?"

Dean snorted and said what he always said to that. "Pretty sure I'm the lucky one."

Usually Cas would have let it go at that, but now he put his hands on Dean's hips (fuck, that silk gliding under his palms, shaping itself so perfectly to the strong, masculine body beneath; it was the most decadent pleasure ever) and turned him to face the full length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. "You think? Look at that. That sexy man is my husband, and he is as kind and compassionate and good hearted as he is gorgeous. You can't tell me I'm not the luckiest man on Earth."

With every word Cas let his hand slide a little closer to Dean's cock, and Dean's eyes followed its progress in the mirror, mesmerized. When Cas finally cupped him through the panties and squeezed firmly, Dean's head fell back onto Cas's shoulder and his mouth opened in a groan of pure ecstasy. "Ohhhh, Cas."

"Mmm. So perfect, Dean. So beautiful." With his other hand Cas opened his jeans and pulled his fully erect cock out of his boxers to rut against the silk covered swell of Dean's ass. The first thrust made him gasp and convulsively bite Dean's neck.

Dean chuckled and rocked back against him. "Feels pretty good, doesn't it? The silk."

"Uh huh," Cas moaned, gripping Dean's hip hard enough to leave bruises, something he already knew Dean loved. "Can I borrow them sometimes?"

"Course. We're married. What's mine is yours. And I kind of like the idea of you going to work wearing my panties under your respectable suit where no one but you and me will know about it. Uuugh. More than kind of."

Cas's cock gave a hard twitch at the thought too. He spun Dean around, pinned him against the mirror, and kissed him, messy and desperate and possessive. Face to face was even better, the thick, rigid line of Dean's cock rutting with his own and the soft silk in between growing damp with the pre-come leaking into it from both sides. They moaned into each other's mouths and moved with redoubled purpose.

Dean clawed at Cas's clothes in mute protest of the inequality, and Cas reluctantly broke the kiss to pull off his shirt. Then Dean was nudging him back towards the bed, pushing him down on it and lifting his legs to pull off his jeans and boxers.

Every trace of self consciousness was gone from Dean. He was looking at Cas with the same shameless, unrestrained desire that Cas had seen in those beautiful eyes the very first time they made love and every one of the countless times since. And there was something extra this time. A soul deep relief and gratitude that they could share this too. In that moment Cas resolved that Dean's pantie collection was never going back into that shoe box. It would go in their underwear drawer, neatly folded as befitted such beautiful things, and he would add to it on every anniversary and Valentine's Day and just whenever he saw something that made him think of Dean.

Dean covered Cas's body with his own, pinning him down, and Cas surrendered control happily, clinging to his husband's strong shoulders as Dean drove them both closer and closer to climax. But just as he was nearing the point of no return, Cas had an idea. The hottest idea his brain had ever come up with. Just thinking it was almost enough to make him come, but if he came now he wouldn't get to actually do it, so he held on grimly, biting down on his own wrist and focusing on the pain.

Dean came with a sound halfway between a moan and a sob, soaking the panties with his release. It took him almost a whole minute to come back to Earth and notice that Cas was still hard. "Sorry. I thought you were close."

"I was. I didn't want to come yet." Cas pushed at the waist of the panties. He wanted to do this before they got cool and tacky.

Dean frowned, puzzled, but he let Cas roll him onto his back and pull the panties down over his hips. When Cas stood up and stepped into the panties himself, Dean's eyes went wide and his soft cock twitched bravely, refractory period be damned.

The panties felt fucking amazing, tight and warm and wet, almost like being inside Dean. "Now," Cas said, climbing back onto the bed and straddling Dean's chest, "I want you to suck me until I come. I want you to taste me and you at the same time. Together."

"Fuck, yes," Dean moaned, already lifting his head toward Cas's silk covered groin and licking his lips. Cas cupped the back of Dean's neck, supporting him. They'd done this plenty of times before, and they each knew exactly how long the other one could take it before the position got uncomfortable. Cas was so on edge right now, he was going to come long before Dean's neck started to hurt.

Dean lapped at the underside of Cas's cock, following the throbbing vein up to the hypersensitive nerve cluster just under the head. "Ghuuuh." Cas tipped his head back and moaned with abandon. Their upstairs neighbor was probably going to complain about the noise (again), but he couldn't care less. The familiar feeling of Dean's tongue combined with the new sensation of wet, chafing silk was indescribably good.

The panties were too tight for Dean to get Cas's cock all the way in his mouth, but he sealed his lips over the head and sucked pre-come through the fabric. Cas lost all ability to think. He screamed Dean's name, his whole body tensing as his orgasm built and built and built.

It seemed to take forever to reach its peak and even longer to crash to its jelly legged conclusion. He might have actually passed out for a few seconds. When he opened his eyes he was lying on his side with no memory of climbing off Dean. Dean was gently peeling the panties off him before they could get glued to his pubic hair with dried come. He didn't toss them on the floor though like he usually did after he made Cas come in his boxers. He carefully hooked them over the bedpost, and they both gazed up at them while they waited for their hearts to slow and feeling to come back to all their extremities.

"I love you," Cas said, finally turning his attention to Dean. "Every part of you. I meant what I said. I feel so blessed to call you mine."

"I love you too." Dean laid his head on Cas's chest, listening to his heartbeat. "I'm sorry I hid this from you for so long."

"You don't have to apologize," Cas said, stroking Dean's sweaty hair. "I understand why you were scared."

"Yeah, but I mean … I'm really sorry. To think I could have gotten to see you in those panties years ago if I'd just had the balls —"

"Hey. No. Don't talk like that," Cas cut him off firmly, or as firmly as he could while slurring his words. "You are not a coward, Dean Winchester. You are the bravest man I've ever known. And we can share this from now on. Focus on that." He was losing the battle with unconsciousness, so he decided to just surrender now. It was the middle of the afternoon, but a post-coital nap with his husband sounded like the perfect way to spend a Sunday.

As though reading his mind, Dean mumbled, "Gon' fall sleep inna min't."

"Mmm hmm," Cas agreed. "I'm right there with you." Always.