[ castiel's fingers on his face are gentle as they trace his skin, and dean-- it threatens to drown him, such a simple thing as those touches. right now all he can see is cas, all he can feel is his hands on him, and it's all he wants. right there and here, is everything he desires. no one's touched him like this, not in a long time and he feels himself suck in a breath at those words. his own are steady, but careful. ]
You have seen me fall apart.
[ but not in the way cas is suggesting.
dean opens up easily enough for the kisses, groans into the slide and bite as he settles between cas' legs. it's good, bordering on becoming familiar, right until cas rolls his hips for friction, for obvious need and dean moans quietly. the words drive the point home, that this is going beyond the usual hungry kisses, and dean-- he finds himself more than alright with that, wants this to go further, wants all of him, wants him right now.
dean's used to a simple routine that doesn't fit anything he and cas have between them. he's used to shoving, for clothes to come off just enough for the deed to be done, he's done for a quick, rough press-push-take and driving the point home, forcing the pleasure out for that single, mind-numbing moment. no words, no kisses, none of that.
yet here, he has so much more he almost doesn't know what to do about it. ]
Then this needs to come off.
[ this time his voice holds more humor, something quietly pleased. a hand pushes up at cas' shirt, exposing skin before latching down, fingers dragging greedily over his friend's torso. gentle, nice-- he's not sure how to go about that, so he does it how he knows; greedy and to the point. including when he bends down, bites at cas' mouth and forces entry. ]
[ There's a shuddering sort of breath, and he wonders, for the briefest second, if he's understanding any of this right. The almost teasing tone, the way Dean kisses him and the pressure of his hands, the bite of his fingers as he scratches at him. He sighs and shifts, breaking the kiss to discard the shirt he'd only just put on, and though Castiel hardly feels any modesty being naked, there's something strange about it being like this. Only partially undressed, and he's far more exposed than he's ever been, looking up at him with wide eyes.
Time to wake up. Time to do something about all of this desire sitting heavy between them.
Castiel leans up on his elbows, nipping at Dean's mouth and the curve of his jaw. He licks a path to his ear and spends a rather lengthy minute biting at the lobe, reddening the skin underneath and making sure Dean knows exactly where he wants this to go. He's fascinated by the texture and taste of him, nuzzling into the side of his cheek and breathing just to breathe. But he wants more, always more than what's being offered to him, and he falls back, laughing quietly as he pulls him to him. ]
You next.
[ But rather than go for his shirt, Castiel is sliding his hands down his sides and squeezing at his hips, rubbing against him for even more of that friction. Jeans are so problematic for such a situation as this, and he drags his thumb over the button, pressing in slightly before hooking his fingers in and popping it open. The zipper gives of its own accord, not much to do except trace the warm skin around his navel. A dare to go a little lower, dipping just inside, and he kisses him whisper-soft.
The restraint he has here is phenomenal, especially when all he feels like doing is pushing Dean on his back and taking him with his mouth. ]
... tell me you want this. [ Because he needs to hear that confirmation just as much as he can feel it, is desperate to have Dean write it into his flesh with his hands and suck it into his body with his lips. Still, he doesn't wait for an answer and pushes his fingers down, sliding under the material of those jeans to press right against him and squeeze. ]
[ 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. ]
[ A rough exhale, and he has to stop his hand from doing as it pleases, arching into each graze of Dean's fingers and the firm slide of his palms as he touches him. He could get used to this, turned on by the simple knowledge that it's Dean doing this to him and that it's mutual. The consent alone rushes excitement straight to his belly and down between his legs, and he makes a soft noise, rubbing himself against the edge of a thigh for more. For Dean to give him everything, to peel off the rest of his clothes and feel just what this is doing to him.
He'd have never imagined this, but now that he has it, he can't let it go. ]
I'm not teasing.
[ It's breathless, the beginning of a groan as he drags his hand free to push at the edge of Dean's jeans in an attempt to get them over his hips. Both hands slide everything over the swell of his ass, and he drags his nails over skin before sliding his fingers around to grip his dick. He wants to look, tipping his head forward just for a second to watch the glide of his hand around him. It seems... right. It feels better than right. He strokes him a little harder and leans back into the mattress, trying to spread himself out.
He needs more than the slight pressure he's getting from rocking against him, and Castiel sighs. ]
Touch me. [ It's not so much a command as it is a plea, kissing at the side of Dean's jaw and the exposed part of his throat. ] Please--
[ And there it is, the softest whine as he strains to get more and give more in the same breath. He's hard in his jeans, and none of this is as slow as he'd have liked to take it. Draw it out, feel the pleasure of it straight through him in every inch of his body. But then again, he supposes he and Dean have been dancing around this for years already. Even before they knew it could have become this, before anything at all.
He shuts his eyes and groans his name. please, please. Do something. ]
[ it's mutual, it's so mutual it has dean ready to burst. and with that need, the burning under his skin would leave his hands shaking if they weren't plastered to cas. this is overwhelming, from the fact that he's getting down to it, that it's another man, to the most terrifying fact of it being cas' body laid out for him, cas' hand wrapped around him.
yes, you are.
he wants to breathe it into cas' mouth, lick it against cas' tongue, because he is. he's teasing him just by existing right now, just by being there, and dean doesn't know what to do about it. there are too many options, too much he wants, and where he's usually so good at just taking, all of what he knows is falling into darkness now, clouded by his body being in overdrive.
and the blame is on cas.
then, cas is sliding a hand over his hips, pushing away at fabric, groping at his ass, spreading himself out, and stroking harder-- ]
Fuck, fuck-- easy, easy...
[ so fast, too fast. this is all gonna end too soon if cas keeps the pace up. wrapping a hand over cas' wrist, he stills the jerking despite how he knows he could ride that alone to a finish. but it'd be lonely, and they're only just getting started here. he wants this to last for now, if only because neither of them know if this'll happen again. ]
I got you.
[ hands at either sides of cas' hips, dean unbuttons the front of cas' jeans with an easy flick of his hand. he can feel the too-hot heat of him just beneath the fabric, knows this is getting to cas as much as it is to him... and while there would be mercy in just letting him free, in tugging out castiel's dick, instead dean palms roughly over the hard shape, gropes at him through the front of his pants. if cas is allowed to tease, so is dean.
he's dipped lower too, mouth further down away from cas', biting and sucking a mark into cas' collar bone, then slipping more... right until he's dragging teeth over a nipple. it isn't until then that dean's pulling away at the band of his boxers too, freeing cas, and letting fingers ghost over the length of him. almost careful, he barely touches, only hovers-- right until he's biting down, just beneath cas' chest, hard and bruising. ]
[ It's a sharp, short whine when he presses his hand down and doesn't bother to really touch him. Castiel distantly thinks this is teasing. Not the promise of what he will do or what he has done, but the underlying message that all of this had been sitting there for years without any thought of having it. It's distinct knowledge now, blatant in the wake of those fingers cupping him through the material of his jeans and the mouth gliding over his neck and collar. The teeth at his nipple cause him to jerk and arch hard against him, the blunt press of his fingernails obvious in the flesh of the hand curled around his wrist. Perhaps it should be drawn out, perhaps it should be slow.
But his body is strung tight already, screaming with want. Too much to contain, and he feels like bursting with the thought of it.
His skin sings where Dean licks and touches and bites, and he shudders, moans out his name again in a breathless little plea that doesn't do much at all except ignite the want already pooling low in his belly. Castiel spreads his legs a little more, clutching at him and twisting his hips in an obvious show of here right here touch me here. There's this moment, and there will be more after. But he needs to satisfy that initial craving, needs to peak them both before it can really start. ]
It's okay. [ A soft grunt, and he pushes into that hard bite, shivering with the pain and reeling with the pleasure of it. ] It's-- I've got you too.
[ Always has, always would.
A gentle shake, and Castiel curls his hand forward, rocking his own body up so that his dick grazes the edge of Dean's hip. He smothers the sound It instigates in him, rolling forward again until he's right against him, and his fingers slide around both their cocks, taking hold and lightly stroking what he can grip. The sensation is almost overbearing, hot and throbbing exactly where he needs it to ease. His thumb slides over the head, Dean's and his own, then circles down into another short stroke, and his breath is ragged now, crushed under the weight of how quickly all of this is building, how things have changed so much for them in the course of a few weeks. ]
Please-- [ A deeper moan, and his other hand is slipping into Dean's hair, tugging and pulling to get him to come up so he can kiss him again. ]
[ 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. ]
[ If it's more than he deserves, then Castiel deserves even less.
Still, he wants him to move, and he wants him to roll his hips. He wants him to use him until he can't see straight and the only thing he's able to do is barely breathe. He can feel how close he is, fingers gliding easy over them from the mixture of fluid gathering, and he resists the urge to withdraw, taste what he thinks he might possibly be missing. It's all the same, he supposes, but it's Dean, and that's infinitely different than someone else's or his own. A deeper sigh, and he stretches out even more, the heel of his foot pushing against Dean's lower thigh to encourage him to thrust. Move, do something. Touch him even more than the simple hold he has on the hand pressing them together.
Cock to cock, and he can't even imagine what it would feel like having him stretching him open. To actually- - Castiel's breath rushes from him in a sharp gasp. He can't think about that now. Absolutely can't. ]
I, I have you. [ It's low, licked into the corner of Dean's mouth in a hard kiss, warmth spreading across his belly and causing him to shudder, to jerk against him.
He reaches up to absently, instinctively dig the fingers of his other hand into the bright imprint of that mark scarred into his skin for a better grip. It's like sliding home, lining up and taking what he'd been ordered to free to keep for his very own. Castiel burns with it, a flash of memory in the depths of Hell and clawing his way to the surface, and he clutches at him, grinds against him and strokes faster. He presses his mouth to his cheek, draws him in as he breathes the words oh so quietly to him. ]
I've always had you.
[ And now it's this, now it's them. He makes a noise in the back of his throat and mumbles please please please into the kiss he gives him, biting into his lip and hanging just over the edge. Waiting for him. ]
[ dean's hand works roughly around both of them, nothing gentle about the grip, all intent and purpose. he's used to lonely nights with just his hand, has been fine with them right until this moment. from now on, he knows-- nothing will be enough again, that going about this solo will ever be okay again.
a part of him hates this change, that cas has made him weaker.
not that it registers now, or has him pulling away. if anything, the thought alone makes dean press impossibly closer, hips working a growing, urgent rhythm. ]
Cas, Cas--
[ the chant is quiet as dean's breath stutters, leaves him with a moan.
dean remotely feels cas' hand sliding up his shoulder, but it's when that familiar hand locks over an ever-present mark in his skin, when cas whispers i've always had you, which tugs at him somewhere deep, pulls at his very soul in the way cas must have when he'd raised him from hell all those years ago. it's simple, the words, but he feels them burn inside of him, shoving him right over the edge. where dean's mouth was spread messily over cas', he's now biting down on the side of cas' upper neck, muffling the deep sound which escapes him as it all crashes around him. pleasure numbs his entire body for those blissful, drawn out seconds which drive his hips to roll against the grip around their cocks-- spilling himself over his hand, over cas' lower body, marking and staining.
breathing heavy, he's buried his face against cas' skin, hand unmoving, body on fire with warmth, with the release of pleasure pooling in his stomach, relaxing his bone, his entire being. cas has left him blissfully content, even if only for now.
and finished him much faster than dean ever fucking remembers coming. fuck. ]
[ He encourages it, whatever he gives him, and even through the roughness, through the bites and the hard grip he has on his dick, Castiel pushes past it. He licks at his mouth, digging his fingers into the flesh of his arm and holding tight, working him through his orgasm when it hits and shuddering beneath him as his own tips and sways. Closer, teasing. The warmth soaking into him seems to do it though, a final shove that punches a harsh groan out of him as his body takes over and locks up.
Castiel wraps himself around Dean, curling his leg tighter against his hip as his hand slides from his arm to the back of his head. He breathes against that mouth, panting out what might have been his name as he slides through the pleasure. Just something soft, quiet as he rocks and leans and rubs against him to draw it out. It's less than a minute, but it feels so much longer, unwinding and falling into place against him.
He allows his hand to fall away, shivering a little with the lack of the contact. Absently, he wipes his fingers clean and pushes to cup the back of the other man's neck so he cradles him in both hands. ]
Dean--
[ It's quiet, a murmur that's only meant to be shared between the two of them, and despite having Dean's face pressed against him, Castiel turns his head to kiss at his forehead. Whatever he can reach, he presses his mouth to, and it's as if something heavy has lifted from them, welding them together. Strong and inseparable. It's a terrifying notion, unsure if he can give Dean what he should be given before it gets to be too much and he runs from it.
Like he always does.
But rather than focus on those things, on the thoughts threatening to swim in his head through the aftermath, he shifts and stretches against him, a lazy roll of his hips to push them together again. If he thinks this is over, perhaps he should reconsider. Castiel has only taken the edge off. ]
[ through the haze, dean feels cas tighten up, groan loud and it feeds that still glowing pleasure in dean-- knowing cas is experiencing this with him. he drinks in the sounds, quiet breaths pressed into cas' skin as answer, feeling the way cas' body pulses. it's all so hot, but for right now he just wants to stay in this moment with him, now that they've finally gotten this far.
it's a little scary, but dean doesn't have the mind to think about it just yet.
fingers push against the back of his neck, and dean feels the shape of lips on his forehead, morphing the moment into something warm, content and happy. he could get used to this, knows he shouldn't, but for now it's so good, so nice-- nicer than anything he's shared with someone before.
naturally, it would be cas.
slowly, he looks at him, green finding blue, the lazy roll hitting him just right, has dean breathing a quiet groan. ]
[ Maybe it is scary, but there are some things he hasn't allowed himself to feel to a degree. Given that he's so powerless now, the fear is nothing but a normal emotion anymore, and he accepts it with all the understanding he's gained and all the knowledge that's crammed into the mortal shell he is.
If that means this uncertainty and what any of it could possibly bring in the future, so be it.
The look, for all that it is and what it might be, causes him to smile, and he lets out a breath, something soft and quiet as he nudges his cheek with his nose and kisses him again. Once, twice. The third is directly on his lips, and despite the desire for more, he also doesn't want to ruin this moment. He wants to keep it, cradle it close and never let it go. ]
You. [ Castiel hums the word. ] I want you.
[ It's a line. He knows it's a line, and it would probably be utterly lame if not for the sincerity behind it. For as long as he can manage it, he wants all of this. At peace, for once, with the guilt and overbearing weight of uselessness. Selfish to keep what he's never had and can't seem to get enough of now that's he tasted it. Even after all this time, Dean is still teaching him and still surprising him.
He leans in and pulls him down. i want you closer ]
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indecadence) wrote2013-05-24 08:48 pm
no subject
You have seen me fall apart.
[ but not in the way cas is suggesting.
dean opens up easily enough for the kisses, groans into the slide and bite as he settles between cas' legs. it's good, bordering on becoming familiar, right until cas rolls his hips for friction, for obvious need and dean moans quietly. the words drive the point home, that this is going beyond the usual hungry kisses, and dean-- he finds himself more than alright with that, wants this to go further, wants all of him, wants him right now.
dean's used to a simple routine that doesn't fit anything he and cas have between them. he's used to shoving, for clothes to come off just enough for the deed to be done, he's done for a quick, rough press-push-take and driving the point home, forcing the pleasure out for that single, mind-numbing moment. no words, no kisses, none of that.
yet here, he has so much more he almost doesn't know what to do about it. ]
Then this needs to come off.
[ this time his voice holds more humor, something quietly pleased. a hand pushes up at cas' shirt, exposing skin before latching down, fingers dragging greedily over his friend's torso. gentle, nice-- he's not sure how to go about that, so he does it how he knows; greedy and to the point. including when he bends down, bites at cas' mouth and forces entry. ]
no subject
Time to wake up. Time to do something about all of this desire sitting heavy between them.
Castiel leans up on his elbows, nipping at Dean's mouth and the curve of his jaw. He licks a path to his ear and spends a rather lengthy minute biting at the lobe, reddening the skin underneath and making sure Dean knows exactly where he wants this to go. He's fascinated by the texture and taste of him, nuzzling into the side of his cheek and breathing just to breathe. But he wants more, always more than what's being offered to him, and he falls back, laughing quietly as he pulls him to him. ]
You next.
[ But rather than go for his shirt, Castiel is sliding his hands down his sides and squeezing at his hips, rubbing against him for even more of that friction. Jeans are so problematic for such a situation as this, and he drags his thumb over the button, pressing in slightly before hooking his fingers in and popping it open. The zipper gives of its own accord, not much to do except trace the warm skin around his navel. A dare to go a little lower, dipping just inside, and he kisses him whisper-soft.
The restraint he has here is phenomenal, especially when all he feels like doing is pushing Dean on his back and taking him with his mouth. ]
... tell me you want this. [ Because he needs to hear that confirmation just as much as he can feel it, is desperate to have Dean write it into his flesh with his hands and suck it into his body with his lips. Still, he doesn't wait for an answer and pushes his fingers down, sliding under the material of those jeans to press right against him and squeeze. ]
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. ]
no subject
He'd have never imagined this, but now that he has it, he can't let it go. ]
I'm not teasing.
[ It's breathless, the beginning of a groan as he drags his hand free to push at the edge of Dean's jeans in an attempt to get them over his hips. Both hands slide everything over the swell of his ass, and he drags his nails over skin before sliding his fingers around to grip his dick. He wants to look, tipping his head forward just for a second to watch the glide of his hand around him. It seems... right. It feels better than right. He strokes him a little harder and leans back into the mattress, trying to spread himself out.
He needs more than the slight pressure he's getting from rocking against him, and Castiel sighs. ]
Touch me. [ It's not so much a command as it is a plea, kissing at the side of Dean's jaw and the exposed part of his throat. ] Please--
[ And there it is, the softest whine as he strains to get more and give more in the same breath. He's hard in his jeans, and none of this is as slow as he'd have liked to take it. Draw it out, feel the pleasure of it straight through him in every inch of his body. But then again, he supposes he and Dean have been dancing around this for years already. Even before they knew it could have become this, before anything at all.
He shuts his eyes and groans his name. please, please. Do something. ]
no subject
yes, you are.
he wants to breathe it into cas' mouth, lick it against cas' tongue, because he is. he's teasing him just by existing right now, just by being there, and dean doesn't know what to do about it. there are too many options, too much he wants, and where he's usually so good at just taking, all of what he knows is falling into darkness now, clouded by his body being in overdrive.
and the blame is on cas.
then, cas is sliding a hand over his hips, pushing away at fabric, groping at his ass, spreading himself out, and stroking harder-- ]
Fuck, fuck-- easy, easy...
[ so fast, too fast. this is all gonna end too soon if cas keeps the pace up. wrapping a hand over cas' wrist, he stills the jerking despite how he knows he could ride that alone to a finish. but it'd be lonely, and they're only just getting started here. he wants this to last for now, if only because neither of them know if this'll happen again. ]
I got you.
[ hands at either sides of cas' hips, dean unbuttons the front of cas' jeans with an easy flick of his hand. he can feel the too-hot heat of him just beneath the fabric, knows this is getting to cas as much as it is to him... and while there would be mercy in just letting him free, in tugging out castiel's dick, instead dean palms roughly over the hard shape, gropes at him through the front of his pants. if cas is allowed to tease, so is dean.
he's dipped lower too, mouth further down away from cas', biting and sucking a mark into cas' collar bone, then slipping more... right until he's dragging teeth over a nipple. it isn't until then that dean's pulling away at the band of his boxers too, freeing cas, and letting fingers ghost over the length of him. almost careful, he barely touches, only hovers-- right until he's biting down, just beneath cas' chest, hard and bruising. ]
no subject
[ It's a sharp, short whine when he presses his hand down and doesn't bother to really touch him. Castiel distantly thinks this is teasing. Not the promise of what he will do or what he has done, but the underlying message that all of this had been sitting there for years without any thought of having it. It's distinct knowledge now, blatant in the wake of those fingers cupping him through the material of his jeans and the mouth gliding over his neck and collar. The teeth at his nipple cause him to jerk and arch hard against him, the blunt press of his fingernails obvious in the flesh of the hand curled around his wrist. Perhaps it should be drawn out, perhaps it should be slow.
But his body is strung tight already, screaming with want. Too much to contain, and he feels like bursting with the thought of it.
His skin sings where Dean licks and touches and bites, and he shudders, moans out his name again in a breathless little plea that doesn't do much at all except ignite the want already pooling low in his belly. Castiel spreads his legs a little more, clutching at him and twisting his hips in an obvious show of here right here touch me here. There's this moment, and there will be more after. But he needs to satisfy that initial craving, needs to peak them both before it can really start. ]
It's okay. [ A soft grunt, and he pushes into that hard bite, shivering with the pain and reeling with the pleasure of it. ] It's-- I've got you too.
[ Always has, always would.
A gentle shake, and Castiel curls his hand forward, rocking his own body up so that his dick grazes the edge of Dean's hip. He smothers the sound It instigates in him, rolling forward again until he's right against him, and his fingers slide around both their cocks, taking hold and lightly stroking what he can grip. The sensation is almost overbearing, hot and throbbing exactly where he needs it to ease. His thumb slides over the head, Dean's and his own, then circles down into another short stroke, and his breath is ragged now, crushed under the weight of how quickly all of this is building, how things have changed so much for them in the course of a few weeks. ]
Please-- [ A deeper moan, and his other hand is slipping into Dean's hair, tugging and pulling to get him to come up so he can kiss him again. ]
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. ]
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Still, he wants him to move, and he wants him to roll his hips. He wants him to use him until he can't see straight and the only thing he's able to do is barely breathe. He can feel how close he is, fingers gliding easy over them from the mixture of fluid gathering, and he resists the urge to withdraw, taste what he thinks he might possibly be missing. It's all the same, he supposes, but it's Dean, and that's infinitely different than someone else's or his own. A deeper sigh, and he stretches out even more, the heel of his foot pushing against Dean's lower thigh to encourage him to thrust. Move, do something. Touch him even more than the simple hold he has on the hand pressing them together.
Cock to cock, and he can't even imagine what it would feel like having him stretching him open. To actually- - Castiel's breath rushes from him in a sharp gasp. He can't think about that now. Absolutely can't. ]
I, I have you. [ It's low, licked into the corner of Dean's mouth in a hard kiss, warmth spreading across his belly and causing him to shudder, to jerk against him.
He reaches up to absently, instinctively dig the fingers of his other hand into the bright imprint of that mark scarred into his skin for a better grip. It's like sliding home, lining up and taking what he'd been ordered to free to keep for his very own. Castiel burns with it, a flash of memory in the depths of Hell and clawing his way to the surface, and he clutches at him, grinds against him and strokes faster. He presses his mouth to his cheek, draws him in as he breathes the words oh so quietly to him. ]
I've always had you.
[ And now it's this, now it's them. He makes a noise in the back of his throat and mumbles please please please into the kiss he gives him, biting into his lip and hanging just over the edge. Waiting for him. ]
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a part of him hates this change, that cas has made him weaker.
not that it registers now, or has him pulling away. if anything, the thought alone makes dean press impossibly closer, hips working a growing, urgent rhythm. ]
Cas, Cas--
[ the chant is quiet as dean's breath stutters, leaves him with a moan.
dean remotely feels cas' hand sliding up his shoulder, but it's when that familiar hand locks over an ever-present mark in his skin, when cas whispers i've always had you, which tugs at him somewhere deep, pulls at his very soul in the way cas must have when he'd raised him from hell all those years ago. it's simple, the words, but he feels them burn inside of him, shoving him right over the edge. where dean's mouth was spread messily over cas', he's now biting down on the side of cas' upper neck, muffling the deep sound which escapes him as it all crashes around him. pleasure numbs his entire body for those blissful, drawn out seconds which drive his hips to roll against the grip around their cocks-- spilling himself over his hand, over cas' lower body, marking and staining.
breathing heavy, he's buried his face against cas' skin, hand unmoving, body on fire with warmth, with the release of pleasure pooling in his stomach, relaxing his bone, his entire being. cas has left him blissfully content, even if only for now.
and finished him much faster than dean ever fucking remembers coming. fuck. ]
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Castiel wraps himself around Dean, curling his leg tighter against his hip as his hand slides from his arm to the back of his head. He breathes against that mouth, panting out what might have been his name as he slides through the pleasure. Just something soft, quiet as he rocks and leans and rubs against him to draw it out. It's less than a minute, but it feels so much longer, unwinding and falling into place against him.
He allows his hand to fall away, shivering a little with the lack of the contact. Absently, he wipes his fingers clean and pushes to cup the back of the other man's neck so he cradles him in both hands. ]
Dean--
[ It's quiet, a murmur that's only meant to be shared between the two of them, and despite having Dean's face pressed against him, Castiel turns his head to kiss at his forehead. Whatever he can reach, he presses his mouth to, and it's as if something heavy has lifted from them, welding them together. Strong and inseparable. It's a terrifying notion, unsure if he can give Dean what he should be given before it gets to be too much and he runs from it.
Like he always does.
But rather than focus on those things, on the thoughts threatening to swim in his head through the aftermath, he shifts and stretches against him, a lazy roll of his hips to push them together again. If he thinks this is over, perhaps he should reconsider. Castiel has only taken the edge off. ]
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it's a little scary, but dean doesn't have the mind to think about it just yet.
fingers push against the back of his neck, and dean feels the shape of lips on his forehead, morphing the moment into something warm, content and happy. he could get used to this, knows he shouldn't, but for now it's so good, so nice-- nicer than anything he's shared with someone before.
naturally, it would be cas.
slowly, he looks at him, green finding blue, the lazy roll hitting him just right, has dean breathing a quiet groan. ]
Tell me what you want.
[ and he'll try to make it so. ]
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If that means this uncertainty and what any of it could possibly bring in the future, so be it.
The look, for all that it is and what it might be, causes him to smile, and he lets out a breath, something soft and quiet as he nudges his cheek with his nose and kisses him again. Once, twice. The third is directly on his lips, and despite the desire for more, he also doesn't want to ruin this moment. He wants to keep it, cradle it close and never let it go. ]
You. [ Castiel hums the word. ] I want you.
[ It's a line. He knows it's a line, and it would probably be utterly lame if not for the sincerity behind it. For as long as he can manage it, he wants all of this. At peace, for once, with the guilt and overbearing weight of uselessness. Selfish to keep what he's never had and can't seem to get enough of now that's he tasted it. Even after all this time, Dean is still teaching him and still surprising him.
He leans in and pulls him down. i want you closer ]