Dean's right hand danced a trail down Cas' neck, over his throat, down his chest. He worked his way down, and thumbed the button free from Cas' jeans. His hand pushed past the material, to grasp Cas' cock. He worked his hand, fingers massaging the shaft.
When Dean rolled back, and pushed himself up on his knees, his intent wasn't to pull away from Cas. He was focused on putting enough space between them that he could work at the clothes Cas wore. His shirts went first, and if he were smart he'd kick off his shoes while Dean was occupied, before Dean started in on his jeans.