[ dean sucks in another breath, this one sharper, sudden under all the kisses and touches. fire pools low in his stomach, harder and faster than he would have thought, setting every nerve in him into overdrive, and he just wants. cas' mouth at his ear gets another low sound, a harsh breath as he press into the ministration, silently asking for more.
he could take, demand, but...
but this is good, too. he can learn this, get used to it.
with cas' shirt off, it gives dean a good view of the skin he's seen a hundred times before, but never wanted. not like he does now. he wants to press his mouth to it, bite half-moon marks into it and mark it as his, wants to lick and taste it, breathe in the scent of him. yet, despite everything he wants, he pauses some to simply admire castiel's lean torso, letting a hand come to sculpt at the expanse of it, over his stomach and up his chest...
this, too, is something he hasn't done in so long.
the command gets dean to react quickly, has him tugging off his shirt in no time at all. his body is the same as ever, as he knows cas has seen him shirtless, and more, plenty of times before. even if he hadn't, the scarring from various missions, from close calls with croats and demons, from chasing after lucifer, mark his body every which way. he's not ashamed of them, finds each just another reminder of the mistakes he's made, of what he'd let sam become... and most vibrantly, still, lingers the once angel's hand print over his shoulder.
it almost aches now, just like the rest of him, as cas' fingers dip and explore just beneath his navel.
where his scars bear him no shame, how... into this he is, and how fast, does. somewhat. it doesn't really show, but he feels it burn brighter inside, scorches at him when he bites down a growl the moment cas' hand squeezes. ]
...Fuck
[ is that enough of an answer? or maybe... ]
Don't tease me.
[ this time the sound very much is a growl, one he bites into the side of cas' neck roughly, makes sure to leave a mark which will be fucking seen the next day. both hands skim over cas' torso now, blunt nails dragging down over the sides of him, to a sharply angled hip, over the back of him round down and past the waist of his pants, over cas' ass, to touch all of him. ]
no subject
he could take, demand, but...
but this is good, too. he can learn this, get used to it.
with cas' shirt off, it gives dean a good view of the skin he's seen a hundred times before, but never wanted. not like he does now. he wants to press his mouth to it, bite half-moon marks into it and mark it as his, wants to lick and taste it, breathe in the scent of him. yet, despite everything he wants, he pauses some to simply admire castiel's lean torso, letting a hand come to sculpt at the expanse of it, over his stomach and up his chest...
this, too, is something he hasn't done in so long.
the command gets dean to react quickly, has him tugging off his shirt in no time at all. his body is the same as ever, as he knows cas has seen him shirtless, and more, plenty of times before. even if he hadn't, the scarring from various missions, from close calls with croats and demons, from chasing after lucifer, mark his body every which way. he's not ashamed of them, finds each just another reminder of the mistakes he's made, of what he'd let sam become... and most vibrantly, still, lingers the once angel's hand print over his shoulder.
it almost aches now, just like the rest of him, as cas' fingers dip and explore just beneath his navel.
where his scars bear him no shame, how... into this he is, and how fast, does. somewhat. it doesn't really show, but he feels it burn brighter inside, scorches at him when he bites down a growl the moment cas' hand squeezes. ]
...Fuck
[ is that enough of an answer? or maybe... ]
Don't tease me.
[ this time the sound very much is a growl, one he bites into the side of cas' neck roughly, makes sure to leave a mark which will be fucking seen the next day. both hands skim over cas' torso now, blunt nails dragging down over the sides of him, to a sharply angled hip, over the back of him round down and past the waist of his pants, over cas' ass, to touch all of him. ]