[ if they weren't busy with this, if he could think a single coherent thought, dean might have to bail on those words alone. there's meaning in them, deep and understanding, more than he deserves from cas...
it only gets something of a whine right then though, a sound he wouldn't be caught dead making otherwise, yet one cas draws so easily from him then.
with cas' idea of easy being to take them both in his hand, it's cutting dean's will power in half, a sharp moan, pressed into cas' skin. but instead of putting an end to it, dean finds his hands wrapping around cas', fingers loose and moving wit him. the pressure is just right, the short jerks perfect even if it takes dean every bit of effort not to roll his hips, to thrust himself through the hot grip.
pressure builds blindingly fast, has him sensing the imminent end of this, that climax which would normally be his one and only goal. he can't remember the last time he particularly cared about his partner getting off, or their pleasure, never mind drawing things out and wanting them to last. but he does now, yet his body hasn't apparently gotten the memo. ]
Cas--
[ it's a grunt, muffled as he bites at castiel's mouth, presses himself every inch against cas' body, chest to chest, skin on skin. his other hands come back up, too, lingers at his shoulder then slides up to the side of his neck. he cradles cas' jaw, the side of his face, feels stubble and the angles of bone and cheek...
he could spend time just touching him, mapping out everything he's so familiar with seeing but not touching.
but not now, not with the building pressure almost there despite how dean doesn't want to tumble over the edge, not quite yet. ]
no subject
it only gets something of a whine right then though, a sound he wouldn't be caught dead making otherwise, yet one cas draws so easily from him then.
with cas' idea of easy being to take them both in his hand, it's cutting dean's will power in half, a sharp moan, pressed into cas' skin. but instead of putting an end to it, dean finds his hands wrapping around cas', fingers loose and moving wit him. the pressure is just right, the short jerks perfect even if it takes dean every bit of effort not to roll his hips, to thrust himself through the hot grip.
pressure builds blindingly fast, has him sensing the imminent end of this, that climax which would normally be his one and only goal. he can't remember the last time he particularly cared about his partner getting off, or their pleasure, never mind drawing things out and wanting them to last. but he does now, yet his body hasn't apparently gotten the memo. ]
Cas--
[ it's a grunt, muffled as he bites at castiel's mouth, presses himself every inch against cas' body, chest to chest, skin on skin. his other hands come back up, too, lingers at his shoulder then slides up to the side of his neck. he cradles cas' jaw, the side of his face, feels stubble and the angles of bone and cheek...
he could spend time just touching him, mapping out everything he's so familiar with seeing but not touching.
but not now, not with the building pressure almost there despite how dean doesn't want to tumble over the edge, not quite yet. ]