Title: Icy Cold
Author: snowin' you
Beta: None. All mistakes are mine.
Rating: M
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Food play. Coarse languages. Rough and literally dirty adult situations. Mild D/s. Non-explicit felching.
Word Count: 1,810
Summary: There are naked Dean and Castiel and icy cold beers. You do the math.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
A/N: I sometimes hate my plot bunny for jumping me out of nowhere.
~:~:~
"Dean." Castiel hissed when the ice-cold bottle of beer hit the small of his back. He was lying flat on his stomach with Dean sitting with one knee up beside him, toying with the glass bottle. "You're going to wet the bed."
"Then I say we move this to the couch." Dean was not commanding. Dean was not asking. He simply made a statement, knowing Castiel would comply, all the while rolling the glass bottle slightly back and forth on Castiel's back, making the angel suck in his breath.
But Castiel hesitated. He doubted he had the strength to move anywhere after Dean just sucked a very blissful orgasm out of him.
"Only if you carry me there," he finally said.
Dean quickly settled the bottle down on the bedside table. "Sure thing, angel," he said with a wide grin. Castiel rolled over and Dean slid both arms at the sides of his torso under his shoulders and lifted the angel up in one slick motion. The way their naked, sweaty bodies draped against each other sent a chill running all over Castiel's skin - the different kind of chill from that he felt off a beer bottle. Not to mention the fact that Dean was still very hard.
Dean gently laid Cas on the leather couch. Castiel quickly turned on his stomach and embraced the armrest, arching his back into a nice curve. Dean couldn't resist running a hand up and down the spine and nipping at the angel's earlobe.
"You should see how beautiful you are, Cas," Dean purred into his ear. Castiel blushed shyly, tucking his face away in the soft, fluffy leather of the armrest.
Dean smiled that small smile, retreating to the fridge and retrieved two bottles of beer from the freezer. He walked back to the couch and knelt beside Cas before slamming the bottom of one bottle on the coffee table. The loud bang made Cas jump, knowing full well the golden liquid would turn into ice in a matter of seconds.
"You ready?" Dean asked.
Castiel nodded, gripping the armrest tighter. He shuddered at the first touch of the freezing cold glass against his skin. Dean rolled the bottle down the small of Castiel's back, over the round cheeks, down to his thighs and back up again. Castiel let out small whimpers, trying to wince away from the icy object, pressing himself harder into the couch.
Dean gazed in awe as the circles he made gradually turned white butt cheeks into faint pink. The way Castiel was mewing and wriggling at the touch turned Dean on excitedly. His cock twitched with flaming passion, leaking incredulous amount of pre-cum.
"How are you feeling?" Dean asked with a cracked voice.
Castiel glared at him over the shoulder. How could Dean ask such a question? Even though he liked the fact that he was pressed hard against the couch and the friction burned him scorching hot, his ass went frigid and he didn't like the feeling, the numbness of it.
But it was not like Cas was going to tell Dean that.
"See for yourself," Cas said through gritted teeth.
Dean laughed; a pleasant laugh that warmed the cold in Castiel's heart.
"Yeah, maybe next time."
Dean put the bottle with the frozen beer down. He grabbed another and cracked it open. Castiel sucked in a breath as Dean slowly poured the cool liquid on the small of his back. A tiny pool of golden water appeared right where the hollow was.
Dean knew Castiel was trying hard not to move lest the liquid overflowed.
"Cas, you're amazing," he flattered and Castiel did not suppress the snort.
Dean lapped up the bitter liquid. Castiel hissed again as the soft and warm tongue pressed repeatedly against his back.
But this is not how you do it with beer, Dean thought. You drink it. You swig it. You don't lap it.
"Get on your knees, Cas," Dean ordered.
"What?"
"On your knees, please?"
Cas rolled his eyes but made an effort to push himself up on all four.
"That's my boy." Dean grinned eagerly. He poured a generous amount of chilled beer on Cas and the angel shivered with anticipation as the cold fluid flowed down both sides of his waist and down his thighs.
"Oh, fuck!" Dean swore. "This is not what I intended."
Dean quickly licked the brimming fluid, sucking, savoring traces of amber froth that formed all over Castiel's lower body. He dragged his slithery hot tongue on every inch of the slick cold skin and Castiel quivered at the contrasting sensations.
Dean smirked. "Why, you like it!"
Intended or not, Castiel absolutely loved it.
"You're going to like this more," Dean said with a wink. He sat himself behind Cas, and judging from how Dean settled the bottle on his back, and how he breathed hot over the knot of his ball, Cas kinda knew what was coming.
"Dean-"
Castiel couldn't finish whatever it was he was trying to say, as Dean carefully poured the cold, fizzy drink down the crack of Castiel's cheeks and drank it, swilled it, swallowed it before it could brim over.
Dean did not spill a drop.
Not when Castiel wiggled as Dean's lips nibbled away where he was most sensitive. Not when some of the liquor made its way inside his loosen hole and Castiel shrieked at how bitingly cold it was. Not when he sucked it out and his beer tasted somewhat foul. Not when he realized that the familiar brackish taste was actually of his cum that still lingered inside Castiel from their previous fuck-or-die session, and Dean concluded this was the hottest beer ever.
Not when Castiel pressed back on his face because he wanted more than that. He wanted more of Dean.
"Bottoms up!" Dean grinned proudly as he turned the bottle upside down and nothing dripped out of it.
"Dean," Castiel said, his voice cracking, limbs shaking, "once you're done with your beer, you might as well start fucking me."
Dean couldn't help a smile. Cas at this moment was such a sight to behold: a beautiful angel trembling on all four, his swollen cock throbbing furiously the only way Dean knew was painful, if the ample amount of dripping pre-cum was anything to come by.
"You wanna take this back to bed?" Dean asked with a click of his tongue.
Castiel glared at Dean again, with added daggers this time. "It's either here and now, or I'll fucking fuck myself," he snarled. "You had enough fun, Dean."
Didn't Dean love it when Cas was hot and hungry?
Dean yanked at Cas' hair, pulling his head back enough to hurt and growled into his ear, "such a bossy little bitch, huh?"
Castiel squeezed his eyes tight at the pain. When Dean got no reply but a ragged breath, he tossed his head away, infuriated. Dean's hands now came to grip threateningly at Cas' thighs, and he shoved himself inside the angel in one sharp thrust.
"Fuck, Dean!" Castiel yelled.
Even though Cas was already loose, it didn't mean the cruel plunge wouldn't hurt.
Dean might have regretted it; how he had defiled a pure and holy creation, how he had degraded a powerful angel to a helpless bitch at his mercy, but not tonight, nor any night Castiel squirming beneath him, screeching out his name, begging him, fucking him, making love to him.
Had Dean taken him for granted? Or was Cas always like this? Always appease Dean anyway possible?
"Soon enough, baby. Soon enough," the hunter said.
Dean pulled himself halfway out before gingerly thrusting back in. He knew he hurt Cas, shoving into him like that, so he moved cautiously. As cautious as he could, anyway, when his brain screamed at him to fuck Cas rough and raw.
Castiel bit his lower lip. It hurt, but it was not enough.
"Harder, Dean. Please."
Who was Dean not to gratify his and his lover's hearts' desires?
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. The way Cas howled almost made him stop, but then as he thrust harder and deeper and hit that bundle of nerves and Cas' voice changed from that of pain to pleasure, he knew he did the right thing. He tightened his grasp on Cas' hips, intending to leave bruises, guiding himself to crush that spot every time he thrust.
The wobbling limbs Dean saw minutes ago have now turned savage, fighting, pushing back at him in perfect pace, like Cas knew the exact moment Dean was going to slap him, echoing the sound of skin on skin through the room. His disheveled hair went even darker as the searing heat dampened it, and Dean reached out a hand to clutch and pull at the mess of his hair to elicit a few animalistic groans and more hitched breaths. Beads of sweat crept up on the plain of Castiel's back and Dean leaned down to lap them, whatever he could manage between berserk rhythms.
"Dean," Cas begged between broken sobs, "please."
"No!"
Dean knew what Cas was asking. He wanted Dean to touch him, but that was not going to happen. He wanted Cas to come. He did, but it would be a disgrace if he couldn't take Cas to seventh heaven with his dick alone.
Castiel was a writhing mess. He cried out incoherent moans and Deans and when he stuttered in Enochian, Dean knew his angel was close. All he had to do was speed up his thrust with more aggressive force and in no time Castiel shot hot streaks of pearly cum on the dark leather couch. His muscles tensed and the voice he made, oh, the voice he made. Dean wanted it to last longer but everything about Castiel was driving him crazy and after two more thrusts, Dean came hard and fierce inside Castiel. His head was spinning as he violently rode out his orgasm.
They both flopped on the sofa and none of them wanted to let go. Dean was puffing at the back of Cas' neck and Cas, after catching his breath, entwined their fingers together
"Did I tell you I love you?" Cas said meekly, bringing up Dean's hand to kiss at the knuckles.
"And I, you," Dean said, kissing Cas' steamy shoulder blade. He slowly removed himself, making Castiel whimpered at the chilly emptiness. He then turned to face Dean and pulled the hunter down for a melting kiss.
Cas always loves post-orgasm kiss.
"I think I need a shower," Castiel said after the kiss broke.
"Yeah, I concur."
But none of them actually moved, even though in the morning they would wake up to a sticky mess and muscles pain. Screw modesty and sanitary. Who needs those things when they have each other?
~:~:~
A/N: Reviews are welcome.