Cas had carved the ninth notch to their 'calendar' in the morning. It was getting late in the day and Dean was growing anxious a little distance from their pond. They'd been here on a hunt for ages it felt like, and there were only so many ways a man could squat holding a bow and arrow, while waiting comfortably with his junk hanging out.

They'd observed a varied variety of species of animals coming to drink for three days. All that sitting motionlessly for hours ate into their time of gathering resources, but they'd established a pattern by which they were now acting on. There was food here, that's for sure. Real food, a not so fine a point Dean had made excitedly when they’d spotted the wild boars. Meat.

A brief conversation had brought them to an understanding that they'd try to catch something they'd actually be able to consume. No point in killing something large and having it spoil. It was an ideology which both Cas and Dean proudly stood behind.

 

Now Cas was sitting on his haunches behind a bush near the water with Dean’s machete in hand, a spring ready to pounce in an instant. 

Dean trained his eyes on the water's edge, a scuffling sound catching his attention. He held his breath, hoping against hope that he was hearing right.

Just as sudden, there it was; A small wild boar.

Dean got it in his sights, and as soon as he released the arrow, the animal fell on its side, squealing like all hell, unable to get up, Cas already sprung into motion before Dean could even step closer.

The unholy noise stopped in a blink of an eye as Cas slashed the boar's throat almost to the spine. Sheer joy bubbled up Dean's throat and he let out a hoot, punching the air, and slapped his hand against a grinning Cas's for a high five. They'd eat well tonight.

 

”Does this count as a first date?” Cas beamed at Dean over his shoulder from where he was tending to the fire, Dean pushing pieces of fresh meat on a stick to fry their food. They'd have to slice the rest of the boar thinly and dry it, way the hell away from the camp so as not to attract any unwanted furry visitors, once their strength had been replenished.

”Well, there's dinner and dim lighting,” he acquiesced to Cas with a slow nod, ”but there's no candles. I'm not sure this qualifies.”

”The canopy of the stars isn't romantic enough for you?” Cas chuckled, ”I didn't peg you for so high maintenance.”

The stars had indeed come out on the last tail of the setting sun.

Cas shifted his weight on his spot next to the fire pit and faced Dean, taking a stick of meat from him and a dead serious look on his face. ”If it came down to it, if you were desperate, which part of me would you eat first?”

After a beat, Dean twirled a finger in the air. ”Turn around.” Cas stood and turned his back to him. ”Yeah. Your ass.” Jesus Christ, what was wrong with him? Dean flushed up to the tips of his ears, the heat of it burning hotter than the South African sun when Cas faced him again with a roguish smirk.

“I mean,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding the silent laughter in Cas's eyes. “Why let all that muscle go to waste, right?” No. There really wasn't a way out of this no matter how much Dean clawed.

 

They'd hung the sliced meat on some bushes about a hundred yards away, just to be on the safe side, and wished to anyone who was listening that the animals didn't get to it. The skin and the rest of the carcass they didn’t have use for, they’d carried a lot further out, but had decided against burying it since there were plenty of animals around that could make good use of them.

Not having their jerky nabbed was a feeble hope, but it would have been too dangerous to start building a better cover in the rapidly darkening evening. The day had passed quickly with all the activity and the banter and the conversations they’d had. Getting to know Castiel better was a pleasure Dean enjoyed avariciously.

After they'd eaten their fill, and then some, they’d made themselves comfortable on their bedding, Cas somehow ending up pillowing his head on Dean’s shoulder, hand resting on Dean's chest, petting slow circles.

Dean suddenly spoke into the comfortable silence, feeling it bubble up his throat, unable to stop, and blurted; “I lost my virginity to a man.” Dean went stiff and grimaced. Good fuck , had he said it out loud? It sure sounded like him. What the fuck was happening?!

He could feel the happy little smile Cas had on his face, as Dean was sure there was a ghosting of lips brushing against his skin.

“I lost mine to a woman, which was more surprising than it sounds like.” Cas hooked his arm over Dean’s chest and snuggled closer still. “How did yours occur?” 

Cas sounded innocent, well received enough so Dean relaxed again when his brain gradually calmed down from its panic mode. 

Surely the production of this show wouldn't air these kinds of conversations. Dean counted on that. “I was at a bar, I was seventeen. Fake ID and all.”

“After your father...”

“Yeah. After Dad crashed Baby and died. It's okay to say it.” He smiled at Cas, lifting his head and meeting his eyes for a moment.

“You kept your virtue until you were seventeen.” Cas sounded incredulous.

“Shuddup,” Dean smirked, shoving Cas’s ankle with his foot in retaliation. “ So ,” Dean continued pointedly. “I was at this bar, and a guy, probably a few years older than me, caught my eye. He started to buy me drinks and I was only too happy to accept. The flirting went on until I felt a little buzzed and a lot adventurous, and agreed to go to his place. Maybe not the smartest move, but what can I say, I like to live dangerously.”

There was a slight note of self-deprecation in Dean’s voice, one which Cas brushed away by sliding his hand over Dean’s chest, pressing his palms over Dean’s nipples so they perked at the touch, the small spark spreading, stirring Dean’s cock slightly. 

Dean turned to peck a kiss on Cas's lips. “No regrets, the guy was a perfect gentleman. Gave me quite the show too, showing me how to prep a guy. And called me a cab afterwards. That stuff went to my spank bank for a long time, after I got my head out of my ass and stopped panicking about what had happened.”

Dean liked how Cas listened. Attentive and accepting, but keeping his questions and interrupting comments to himself, if he had any. The way he just let Dean ramble on was a kind of freedom he hadn't experienced before. He loved his brother, his confidant, but fuck how the gigantic Samsquatch could interrupt like we was paid to do it.

“Then I obviously went on a frantic string of one-night stands,” Dean continued, waving a hand in the air to insinuate a gay panic was essential to the life of a bisexual man. “Didn't care about anything else than that they had to be women . Like it'd wash away the gay. To be the good little straight soldier my Dad raised me to be.” 

He held Cas closer, and the man went willingly, throwing his thigh across Dean’s, quiet but definitely listening intently.

“I'd thought I was fine with being bi, glad I didn't have to go through the existential bullshit so many people struggle with. Until it happened to me. Now, my most meaningful relationships have been with men, so I'm, like, what. A four on the Kinsey scale. My Dad would shit a brick. Two bricks.”

Cas filled the following silence with a soft kiss, brushing away the sting of the unwanted thoughts and bringing Dean firmly back into the present. Amazing how much Cas could do by doing so little.

Cas settled back down, pressing his body against Dean's side. “Mine was a nightmare.” The grin in there was audible. “I was twenty-two and I thought I just wasn't interested in sex. I could appreciate the aesthetics of a handsome or a beautiful person regardless of gender, but I didn't feel anything more outside masturbating. Not until I fell in love.”

He went quiet, and Dean gave him room to think, like Cas gave him.

After a pause that was filled with the sounds of the Bushveld, Cas continued in a husky voice. “It was unrequited, but she thought I was cute, so she dated me for a while. Mostly to feel wanted, I'd assume. It got to the point where I was in her bedroom, naked and shaking like a leaf. I barely got the condom on without tearing it apart, and after that, it was just a quick thrust and a looong stare.”

Dean couldn't help himself, he burst out laughing. The idea of poor young Cas fumbling and practically coming on the woman's thigh was too much. It was so unlike his Cas that it bordered on the absurd.

“Laugh it up, Winchester,” Cas reprimanded, and promptly bit his nipple. Which indeed shut Dean up, except for the throaty groan that burst out of him, his cock twitching almost violently.

“I haven't had that many partners.” Cas's voice sounded like a confession, despite the distinct laugh he was holding back. “But I'm experienced enough that I won't repeat that particular mortification.”

Dean's cock gave a feeble throb again and he took deep breaths to quell the heavy feeling between his legs. He was only a man, and the subject matter didn't help matters any. Not to mention the current company and how said company was around him like a limpet. So Dean breathed and focused on the stars.

 

They ended up talking deep into the inky night, sharing more tidbits about themselves in hushed voices, laying close and, in all honesty, spending more time quietly staring into each other's eyes, smiling happily than actually speaking.

Dean had learned that Cas had traveled some, doing survival excursions to the Amazon and South America. He'd wanted to know more about plants.

Dean had confessed that his adventures were limited to the US and Canada because of his fear of flying. Cas's eyes had shone even brighter.

They could both make a gillnet, among other various fish traps from scratch. Dean was a little bit in love with the way Cas's nose scrunched up and his gums showed when he laughed. In all the earnestness Dean didn’t allow himself, he’d just gone and fallen a little bit in love, period.

They'd fallen asleep facing each other like curved bows, Cas's hand covering Dean's where it lay between them, Dean doing nothing but curling his fingers around Cas's before his eyes slid shut.

 

True to his word, Cas woke up with an erection more often than not. Dean had ignored it the best he could after the initial, accidental, he swore, ogling of the majestic cock that made Dean have difficulties keeping his drool inside his mouth, his asshole clenching greedily.

And Cas always went and dealt with it by curling in on himself and breathing deeply for a minute, which in Dean’s opinion was a crying shame. But what else was there to do about it? They were filming a survival show, not Casa Erotica.

On day twelve Dean became conscious of his surroundings in slow increments. Then his sleep-blurry vision was filled with the slow, mischievous smile on Cas's lips as the man beside him batted his lashes at him.

“Morning, Cas.” He felt a bit slow on the uptake, since what was that look Cas was giving him?.

“Good morning, Dean.” Cas kept staring at him, eyes azure and so intriguing, then glanced down at Dean’s nether regions.

Dean squeezed his eyes closed in frustration and groaned heavily. He didn't have to look to know that he was hard as a rock.

Cas patted his shoulder and sighed, sliding his hand down his side and grabbing him by the knee, pushing to free himself. “I already dealt with mine. The cameras weren't working. More's the pity,” Cas whispered, then licked a long stripe to Dean's lips and pressed a kiss there, before getting up and taking the metal pot for a water run.

Dean was left completely miserable, cruelly left there to either die, or to decide whether to laugh or cry. He threw an arm over his eyes in utter frustration and torment.

He ended up slapping his head with his hand to chase some dirty thoughts away. He needed a cold shower to get rid of the image Cas left him with.

“The cameras really aren't working, I wasn't kidding,” Cas informed Dean when he came back to find Dean still lying on the bedding. Dean opened his eyes to peer at Cas in disbelief.

“So you really...” Dean made a very descriptive motion with his hand.

“No,” Cas smirked. “But if you bother to get up any time today, I have an idea. Follow me.” Dean scrambled up to do just that without a second thought, just Thelma and Louise it, put it in drive and go.

They ignored the camera people's shouts after them.

They hiked for about twenty minutes until Cas stopped and took Dean by the hand, guiding him under a lush Marula tree and shoving him against the trunk.

“Now would be a good time to say no if this isn't okay.” Cas's hands were rubbing over and down Dean's shoulders and he looked into Dean's eyes with seriousness, with intent. Dean swallowed hard and assessed the situation; There wasn't anyone around to see, and while they had their microphones, it wasn't very likely the recording would be of any use to anyone.

Mere inches separated them, and Dean's breath was coming fast. Whatever Cas had in mind, Dean was on board wholeheartedly.

“I want you so bad” Dean managed in a gruff growl, surging forward to catch Cas's mouth in a kiss. It was over too soon.

“We don't have much time,” Cas murmured against Dean's lips, hands sliding down his torso, thumbs catching his nipples. “I want to suck you,” Cas's hot breath in Dean’s ear and the words sinking in made him shiver. 

“We don’t have a condom,” Cas informed Dean of his dreadful realization, his chest flushed under his tan up to his tempting throat just asking to be bitten, a gleam in his eyes making Dean want to whimper with lust while they both felt momentarily so dismayed it was a wonder the world didn’t stop turning.

“No,” Dean whined pitifully. “I didn't come to the Bushveld to get my jollies on.”

“Do we need one? I assume we're both clean, since we wouldn't be here if we'd failed the health screening. They were very thorough.”

Dean pondered that for a moment. There was light at the end of the tunnel. “Thank fuck.” 

Cas was on his knees in a flash, Dean's cock already filled in Cas's hand. His knees buckled when Cas mouthed at the blunt tip, licking and laving, suckling greedily.

Thank god for their thorough wash last night.

 

The way Cas's tongue worked relentlessly promised that Dean wouldn't last long. 

Even if he hadn't been strung out by their prolonged body contact, he'd been on the cusp in a matter of moments by the extremely talented mouth of his survival partner.

Cas took Dean’s cock deeper and hollowed his cheeks, sucking hard, and Dean saw stars far brighter than the ones on the sky at night. 

Without the tree to his back, he'd probably toppled over with the wave of his impending completion, sparking lightning through his spine. His nails dug into the bark of the tree.

“Cas, I'm gonna–”

Cas only doubled his efforts, reaching behind Dean and pressing the pad of his middle finger firmly against Dean’s hole, not penetrating, but enough to make Dean buck deep into Cas’s mouth with a strangled moan and spilling hotly into Cas’s eager mouth.

“Proteins,” Cas offered by way of an explanation, a silly little grin curving his mouth after swallowing and looking very pleased with himself, gazing at Dean through his lashes, his flush all down to his chest and along his shoulders. “Got to take what you can get out here.”

Dean chortled, trying to catch his breath. He bent down to lean his hands to his knees, and saw the near unhinged state Cas was in. That was something Dean would gladly help with. So he hauled Cas up, thrust him trembling against the tree, and fell right on his knees to return the favor.