Sometimes You Feel Like A Nut
It started with a kiss. He assumed this sort of thing always did. Although all of his knowledge of this complex human mating ritual only came from one accidental viewing of pornography and it was made very clear that that was not how this usually went. To be honest he was very surprised the kissing thing had even happened. As surprised as an angel could be about anything.
Of course he loved Dean, and revered him, and would do anything he asked. And Dean would never say something as painful and human as I love you. But just because it was unspoken, didn't mean it wasn't true. Maybe this was a part of it, the kissing thing.
There is a lot to take in. The first thing is that humans are warm. Almost uncomfortably warm. Very unlike angels, who were multidimensional beings made of electricity, and righteous fury, and icy cold air. All folded up and filling a vessel. And he can feel every inch of the vessel, where he's crammed in , and what bits are left floating out that humans can't even see. It was like wearing clothing that was too small, making every action just a little bit harder than it needed to be. It was also very distracting. He had to push some of that away so he could concentrate on what Dean was doing.
So they were kissing. Well Dean was kissing him. He wasn't sure what he was doing. He had kissed someone before, but she was a demon and felt totally different. And she tasted like sulfur. Dean tasted like something else. His mind helpfully played back a quick memory of him watching Dean brush his teeth. Hmm, tooth...paste? He tasted like toothpaste, which tasted like mint. The kisses were soft, and then insistent, then sloppy. He was starting to get the hang of it he thought.
Humans were easier to understand if you read their minds. But they didn't seem to like that much. At least the Winchesters weren't too keen on it. Cas had said if they thought of their minds behind a door, then thought about locking the door, it was easier for him to remember not to do it. He still could if he wanted to, he just didn't. Although he really wished he was doing so now.
Kissing was nice, but maybe it would be nicer on the bed. You were supposed to do this on a bed right? He wished he could have asked Gabriel or Balthazar about this. They were experienced in this sort of thing. Except they weren't great role models and might have just made fun of him. Siblings suck whether they're angel or human. Dean let himself be led to the bed, and Castiel was careful not to hurt him as they tumbled down onto it. Somewhere between the wall he had been pressing Castiel against, and the bed, Dean had lost his shirt and was looking at the fully clothed angel disapprovingly.
He reached out his hands and began to unwrap Castiel like an especially exciting Christmas present. Even just being without the trench coat feels odd. It almost feels like a part of the vessel. But that comes off and so does the jacket and tie, and they lie on the floor in a little pool of black, and beige and navy. He is left with only the white dress shirt. And that only lasts for a moment before Dean rips it off, sending buttons flying everywhere. He will have to fix them later. If he understood exasperation, he would be feeling it now. Dean is wearing the expression the means he is very pleased with himself. Castiel has a mental catalog of Dean's expressions. He has one for Sam too, but he is much easier to read.
Content that they are both equally unclothed, he had tangled their hands together and placed them with Castiel's palm down on his chest. He could feel his heart pounding in a manner that would normally imply he was in danger. That was probably normal though. He could also feel Dean's chest rise and fall with breath. He trailed his fingers down until he reached a nipple. He watched in rapt fascination as it perked up under his attention. There was also an accompanying noise. But it was a good noise, so he touched it again.
Castiel ran his hand down Dean's ribs, and Dean laughed. Was it customary to laugh? He wasn't sure. This whole thing was very, very confusing, and he didn't know what he was doing. Being a fierce warrior in heaven doesn't give one much free time for people watching. He remembered hearing something about a base system and that was just more confusing. He didn't even want to think about that right now. Dean was moving now and Castiel shifted some of his weight, he could be as light as air if he wanted too, but Dean might find that "creepy". Dean was half sat up, leaning against the headboard with Cas in his lap. He kissed him again.
He decided kissing was something to put in the list of things he liked, right next to the internet, learning new things, cheeseburgers and sweets. Liking things was a very human activity. The mint flavor was still there, but less strong now. Yes, kissing was very pleasant.
What was one supposed to do after kissing? He was very close to asking before he felt Dean's teeth and tongue start dancing down his neck, leaving little red marks that rapidly changed to a very deep purple. They would be healed and gone the instant Cas thought about it, but they were here now. A new brand for this new profound bond. His vessel seemed to be having the appropriate response. His lips were swollen, his pupils enlarged, a new bite mark appeared on his collarbone, and a flush had crept over his face and chest. He still felt cold, but angel cold, not naked cold.
And there was another factor too. One that had once led to a very short, and very awkward speech from a profusely blushing Sam that eventually led to the angel learning the very basics of his vessel's anatomy on the laptop. Well not awkward for him. The procurement of information was necessary and angels could not feel awkward. Although he was pretty sure that was what was happening now.
So this is what desire feels like. Like an order you have to obey right that second and you have no idea how to do it. He felt like he could suddenly forgive humanity for a lot of the things they had done. Dean had spread his legs and Cas sprawled in the space between them, half laying on Dean's chest, hoping they would be doing more kissing. He could feel that Dean is hard too, and has slotted them together in a way that has their lower halves perfectly matched. Dean grinds up and in and suddenly he is grounded by that one sensation and he can no longer feel every millimeter of his angel body or his vessel, just the parts where he is touching the human. It's the most at home he has ever felt in this body.
Well that's new, and blows all the previous things on his list of likes right out of the water. This deserves a new list all together. He's the one making noises now, and they are very, very good ones. Dean is wearing a new expression. Its happy. Dean has several happy expressions. Happy (food), Happy (good hunt), Happy (Sam), and now Happy (Castiel). He files it away in his mind for later study.
He's so busy with his mental pictures of Dean he almost forgets the very real and very aroused Dean underneath him until he feels searching fingers dipping below his waistband and popping his fly. He tries to help, but mostly just gets his hands in the way and then Dean is flipping them so he is looking down at him and the entire pants issue is resolved in a quick yank. Castiel puts his hands on Dean's chest, his neck. He had kicked off his jeans, and they were both now completely naked. He licked hot trails from Cas' neck to his navel, hands feeling ribs and hip bones, down to part softly muscled thighs.
His tongue went farther and farther down. Then he stopped. Castiel looked down at him curiously. Why did he stop? Was it the vessel, was he malformed in some way? Cas was quite certain he had all the proper things in the right places. At least according to that internet diagram he did.
Then there were hands, and lips, and tongue. It was good, so very good. He arched his back, trying to reach. Trying to get more more more of that feeling. Dean was reaching for something under the bed, stretched out, stubbornly refusing to stop feeling and tasting. He managed to get his hands on whatever it was because Cas could feel Dean's questioning look and he nodded. All the words in all the languages there ever were, and he couldn't grasp a single one right now. Warm, slick fingers circled tender flesh. Cas tipped his head back into the pillow, floating near weightless without even trying.
At first the feeling was sort of uncomfortable. Not painful, just new. Dean was rubbing relaxing circles into his hip with the thumb of his free hand. Every curl and flex of fingers felt better and better. And then he quirked something inside and the angel went rigid, twitching, and shuddering out breath. He very much wanted to feel that again.
He was being nudged over to lay on his chest. Dean's hand wiped the sweat from his brow, caressed his shoulders, then dexterously guided his cock into Castiel. He let out a low groan into the sheets. Dean was moving, still rubbing his hands over Cas' shoulders and back. He made shallow thrusts, hands light against Castiel's hips, afraid he might in some way hurt a nearly immortal angel. Castiel held himself up on one elbow, and reached back to grab one of Dean's thighs and pull him closer. Fingers curled tighter around his waist, thrusts becoming deeper, both participants moaning louder.
Castiel came quickly against the sheets with a feeling that felt eerily like flying. After a few more deep thrusts, Dean followed, slumping over Cas' back and panting in his ear. Then he flopped down on the bed, put his arms around Cas, and brought their sweaty chests flush against each other. He could feel Dean's soul thrumming close to the surface, alive and very content.
Castiel looked up mischievously and asked Dean to kiss him again.