Blue Jeans

It was the fleeting touches, the nails over the goosebumps on his arms. Those were the things Castiel could have never grasped before recieving a vessel. The hot breath, once a nusance, was now a cause for shivers. The hands were rough, obviously calloused. Castiel knew what from, throughout his years as the Winchesters' gaurdian he'd often watched Dean work on the Impala.

It was clumsy, unlike any of Dean's other escapades. This one was new, uncertain; it was hurried and exciting. Dean couldn't recall ever being so ready, so goddamn hard. The fact that a man as holy as an angel just pushed the lust harder through his veins.

Dean had Cas pinned entirely, all vertabrae of the angel's back was flesh against the harsh metal of the dumpster. Dean's jeans seemed to mesh with Castiel's trousers. The materials met as eagerly as the throbbing cocks beneath. A beg was caught in Castiel's throat as Dean moved his hand from the back of his head and down to the top of his belt.

A novice in all sense of the word in all workings of this mortal world, Castiel knew only what his vessel's primal instincts were telling him. And that was that this felt good. And that he wanted this to last for as long as it possibly could. But that wouldn't happen.

And Dean knew it too the moment he pushed his thumb against the head of Castiel's throbbing cock. The moisture was almost to the surface of the khakis. Dean growled, pushing with even more force than before, slamming Cas into the barrier with a newfound sexual craving. He bit at the bottom lip of the angel, licked his way to the others tongue. Castiel groaned. Dean could feel him tensing up, all of his muscles tightening.

A sense of pride and sexual prowess washed over the hunter; was he really that attractive to make a man even think of coming so soon? Was he really so irresistable that he didn't even need to take Cas's dick from its restraints?

He smirked as he lowered his hand once again to the man's genitals. He took his mouth away so he could see Castiel's entire face. He wanted to memorize this picture for those late, lonely nights when Cas would be gone with more pressing matters.

A flick of his finger sent a wave of heat through Cas. Another swipe made his head spin, he was dizzy and if it hadn't been for the current pinned position, he probably would have fallen to the ground. His breath was picking up pace, coming in and out as fast as it could. As his breaths quickened so did the invigorating motions on his cock. Cas grabbed on to Dean's arms before placing his head into the other man's collarbone and biting.

The feeling was something Cas wished he could relive over and over again for the rest of eternity. All of that pent up tension spilled out, staining and darkening the cloth surrounding the offender. Cas rode out the aftershocks, the twitches of his cock, the oversensitivity. It took him a while to recover, for the world to stop spinning. And when that happened he looked up to see Dean smirking.

"I'm sorry, Dean. It just seems that you're quite good at this," Castiel looked a bit embarrassed, his eyes trained on the ground, sometimes moving to look at the dark patch in his crotch, "I'm sure, with some practice, I'll get better. I got better at using that cell phone. Surely this can't be much different."