Feedback: Makes me happy, just play nice
Disclaimer: They belong to Kripke/McG/et al, and a bunch of other corporate-type ppl, in other words, not me.
Warnings/Squicks: blasphemy in the form of angel sexing, cheese
AN1: So, I was cleaning out my fic folder when I stumbled on this, I know I was supposed to be fixing something in it, but I have no clue what (it's been a rough couple months)… I'm hoping that means I already fixed it, lol. Anyway, I dusted it off, rewrote a bit, and put some lace and bows on it, and since there's a lack of schmoopy sexing in the 'dom these days, I figured WTHs I'd post it.
AN2: The title is a line taken from Byron's The Giaour (line 1108, if my math is right, lol)
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"Do you feel?" Dean asked with obvious sincerity.
"Yes," Castiel watched the mortal from the corner of his eye. "We know emotions, but we don't let them control us."
Chuckling mildly, "No, Cas. I meant feel," he made a show of pushing against the angel's chest. "You know, touch. With the whole borrowed body thing. Still, it's good to know that somewhere under that angelic shell lurks real emotions."
Castiel's face was unreadable as he thought about Dean's question. He knew he felt different, confined, when he was in a human body, but there were other things that, before, he had dismissed as unimportant, but, now, he began to grow curious about.
Dean cocked his head, an unconscious mimic of the angel's own actions, "You don't know."
"It has never been …important." The blue-eyed angel swallowed the lump in his throat, adding, "Until now," in a barely breathed whisper.
Eyes filled with questioning and uncertainty flickered to the mortal who had become the one part of his existence Castiel didn't doubt.
Dean gulped. Cas was his strength and seeing the angel this vulnerable shook his core. Instinctively, Dean reached out for his angel, "Cas, it'll be okay," he assured, gripping Castiel's arm tight, hoping to convey even a fraction of the faith he had in the angel.
A faint hint of a smile fluttered over Castiel's face at the mortal's touch. "Thank you, Dean."
"Anytime, man. But you still didn't answer my question."
"I… believe so," the angel admitted uncertainly. "There are sensations that are unlike any I felt in my true form."
"So you can feel." He reached out and stroked Castiel's down turned face.
When Cas turned his face to the hunter, his eyes sparkled with intensity and awe. "Dean," he gasped- he had never felt this, the touch sent sparks of pure power through his body.
Dean smiled warmly at the angel, brushing his cheek with a rough thumb.
"More," Castiel gasped like a child requesting a forbidden treat.
Cupping the angel's face, he murmured, "Always, Cas."
Slowly, Dean slid the ever present trench coat from Cas' tensed shoulders, tossing it on a nearby chair, followed by his suit jacket.
The angel's breath had turned shaky, coming in ragged pants.
"Cas?" Dean's voice was warm and deep, almost as rough as Castiel's, "Want me to stop?"
He thought he'd go insane if the angel said 'yes', but Dean knew he'd do anything Castiel asked of him, including stop touching him.
"No," Castiel barked, obviously fearful that his hunter wanted to stop. Calming himself and catching his breath, "Please, Dean, don't stop."
Oh, so chastely, Dean kissed Castiel's parched lips. "You change your mind, just say the word."
Not trusting his voice, Castiel nodded his understanding; his eyes lingering hungrily on Dean's lips.
Dean ran his hands down the front of Cas' dress shirt, smiling wickedly at the shudders he felt in the angel's flesh.
Watching the angel's face for any sign of hesitation, Dean removed Cas' already loosened tie, tossing it aside with the rest of his clothes, before setting to work unbuttoning his shirt. As each successive button gave, more and more of Castiel's skin was exposed, until finally, his front torso was bare. Reverently, Dean ran his hand over the beautiful flesh, soft and smooth like nothing he'd ever touched before.
A needy mewl rose from the angel when Dean's finger's ghosted over an exposed nipple.
Bringing Castiel's right hand up to his mouth, Dean breathed, "So sensitive," over the angel's knuckles as he undid the buttons at the cuff. He then repeated the action with a, "So powerful," over Cas' left hand.
Shakily, Cas let the shirt slip from his body to puddle at his feet. He reached a hand out slowly to touch Dean's face, eyes wide and questioning, hunger lingering beneath those dark pools.
Whimpering softly, Dean nuzzled against Cas' hand, a silent answer to his questioning eyes.
Quickly, Dean pulled off his shirts, so that he stood bare chest to bare chest with his angel.
They could feel the heat coming off each other. Feel the panted breaths against flushed skin. Eyes locked, searching for confirmation, and when they found it- mirrored desire, trust, love- they fell together.
Dean guided them towards the bed as hands touched and explored his body; scratching, grabbing, and petting, trying to elicit as many reactions as possible from the hazel-eyed man.
Tumbling onto the bed, Cas' hands scrabbled at Dean's belt and fly, until he had Dean's jeans and boxers sliding over his hips and buttocks.
Stilling the angel's hands with his own, Dean locked gazes with Cas' azure eyes. "Cas, calm down. We don't need to rush."
The deep blue pools turned plaintiff, "Dean, need you- please."
"Okay," Dean soothed his almost frenzied angel, "anything you want, Cas, anything, just slow down."
Castiel wanted to scream, he wanted to make Dean understand, but how could he when he didn't understand himself. All Cas knew was that these new sensations were somehow coupling to and enforcing his emotions; emotions that demanded one thing- Dean.
Kissing his angel, "Cas, we do this right. I swear, we'll get there." Dean's thousand watt smile shone brightly, "My angel can feel," his hazel eyes looked over Castiel wolfishly, "and I'm gonna make sure you feel everything."