Cas is so sweet about it that Dean almost feels bad for asking. It seems like no matter what it is, when Dean asks, Cas does it. His mind is loaded with memories of bend over, angel, show the camera that pretty ass and that's right, swallow, beautiful and above all else Cas' smile. Always a smile when he's pleasing Dean.
Not that Dean doesn't return the favor. He has plenty of those memories, too. Cas gasping and whimpering unh, Dean, please and oh, yes, right there, more, more until the sun came up. Or went down, depending.
But this. It may as well be his birthday.
Cas kneels on the floor in front of him, soft lips gently pressing kisses to the head of his cock. Warrior's hands rest on Dean's hips, patient and still as he keeps kissing and waiting. Dean's legs shake as he stands, one hand quickly stroking the shaft of his cock while the other gently massages his balls. Little slips of pink tongue flash and flick across the slit of his cock, stealing away the precome and pushing Dean that much closer to his orgasm.
Dean looks down at Cas' face, lips swollen from Dean biting them as they kissed. His collar bones, too, are marked and covered in patches of pink. They'll turn to bruises, small reminders Cas can look at during the day. Dean knows Cas does. That occasionally his sweet angel likes to be reminded of all the depraved, dirty things they do. Part of Dean wonders if Cas isn't a bit of a masochist, loving the way pain stands out so starkly against the pleasure heating his skin and flooding his blood.
The room wobbles a bit, Dean's body feeling heavy and light as heat crawls around his spine like Cas' fingers inside him. Cas closes his eyes and sighs softly as he kisses Dean's cock again, a gentle smile tugging the edges of his lips. Dean's hips buck forward, fucking into the channel of his own fingers like it was Cas' body.
A rough growl grates his already hoarse throat, relaxation and pleasure making formerly tense muscles sag as the blissful feeling of completion overwhelms him. Warm splashes of come land on Cas' forehead and over one of his eyes, dripping down his cheeks. More ends up right on his lips, Cas licking it up with a pleased hum. Dean's knees feel like they'll give out, so he lets them.
His fingers tangle in Cas' hair, jerking the other man's head around so his face can be cleaned. Cas chuckles when Dean licks up his own come, holding it on his tongue until, finally, they kiss. As much as possible is sucked greedily from Dean's mouth, stolen desperately and savagely. Dean's hardly breathing when they part, chest heaving as he pants and takes in air that tastes like come and Cas.
A smirk darkens the pretty blue of Cas' eyes, his teeth looking sharper than normal. "You're on your knees, Dean. Would you like to pray for me?"
Dean smiles, still too breathless to laugh, and nods.