Someone makes angel food cake, and Dean wants to lick the bowl.
And it's white and liquidy and Dean gets it everywhere and he's sucking on the spoon and such and saying how much he loves angel food cake and Castiel is just getting incredibly turned on
Dean didn't care that he was making pornographic noises- oh hell no. This was angel food cake batter, and it was damned angelic and Dean was gonna enjoy it. He wasn't sure exactly why there was a bowl with leftover cake batter, but he wasn't complaining. Besides, Sam and Bobby were out shopping. Dean had the place to himself.
Or so he thought.
He pushed the wooden spoon around the edges of the plastic bowl, trying to gather as much of the sugary goodness as he could. He stuffed it into his mouth, his tongue eagerly lapping the batter up. Some of it seeped from the edge of his lips and oozed down his chin, dripping down his neck. In a swift motion, Dean slid out of his t-shirt in one smooth motion, careful to keep it clean of cake batter. He licked his lips of the white stuff, but ignored the rest of it dribbling down his neck. His tongue swirls around the head of the spoon and he moans incoherently about angel food cake and deliciousness. Eventually, he ditches the spoon and starts to lick the bowl itself, getting batter all over his fingers, chest, shoulders, some in his hair no doubt, but Dean swore he was one good lick away from a foodgasm.
"Dean."
The hunter's eyes widen in shock as he turns to see the angel standing in the doorway, his eyes burning with a passion.
"Cas," Dean said, "Didn't see you there."
"Dean," Castiel repeated, "What are you doing."
He said like a command, and like the good soldier Dean was trained as, he instantly admits.
"Eating cake batter," Dean showed the bowl as proof.
"You're wearing it," Castiel looks pointedly at Dean's near batter covered torso, the passion in his eyes growing.
Oh wait... that was not passion. That was pure, unadulterated lust clouding the angel's perfect blues. Dean smirked, still holding the bowl, he picked up the spoon he tossed onto the counter, and held it out to Cas.
"Want a taste?" Dean winked.
Next thing he knew he was flat on his back on the linoleum floor, the bowl and spoon of cake batter forgotten, with a lap full of angel- and angel who was currently licking and sucking the batter off Dean's naked chest and making absolutely criminal noises.
Which were nothing compared to the sounds passing Dean's own lips.
"Cas..." he managed to groan out.
Castiel flicked his tongue out, catching in the hollow of Dean's throat.
Words abandoned, Dean grabbed onto Castiel's hair (so thick and soft and lush just like he had imagined it would be) and pulled him up for a searing kiss of cake batter. Castiel's lips parted instantly and Dean stroked his tongue inside, licking his way inside. Cas groaned and sent vibration all along Dean's body. His long fingers wrapped around the hunter's shoulders, gripping tightly. The pressure on the hand print sent jolts of pleasure racking through Dean's body and he surged forward, one hand holding onto Castiel's neck as the other pushed under the trench coat, under the suit jacket, until it found the thin white cotton shirt.
Castiel pulled away, barely. His eyes locked onto Dean's as their lips brushed. He dragged a finger up Dean's chest, catching the leftover batter. The angel lifted his finger and slowly, ever so fucking slowly, brought it to his lips and moaned as the sweetness hit his tongue. Beneath him, Dean groaned, his hips leaving the ground and pressing against Castiel. The angel gasped, his back arching and shuddering.
"Dean," Castiel said, and goddamn if his voice wasn't broken.
"I'm here Cas, I'm here," Dean breathed, taking Castiel's fingers into his mouth and gently sucking the cake batter of the digits.
Castiel collapsed against Dean, his face buried in the hunter's neck. His hot, damp breath spread across Dean's neck and shoulder and he shivered and rocked his hips again. Castiel moaned at the action and pressed himself closer to Dean, his voice whining pitifully.
Dean, all shame now forgotten, released the slick fingers and threaded them with his own as he rolled himself over Castiel. The angel didn't protest as he laid open on the kitchen floor, his coat and jacket opened wide. His hips in constant motion, Dean mouthed hot kisses across Castiel's neck, pausing to suck behind his jaw, right below the ear. Cas arched his back, his voice (now completely wrecked) moaning incoherent statements of pleasure. Their hips moved in sync beneath the layers of clothing. The pressure building as Dean continued to bite, suck and lick his way across the pale, sweaty neck before him.
Hands wound their way through Dean's hair, pulling him up for a biting kiss. Castiel nipped at Dean's lower lip then pulled it into his mouth, sucking hard. Their hips became stuttered, disjointed, and soon they weren't kissing at all, simply breathing each other's air in gasps of pleasure. A familiar tightening grew inside Dean and with one last, jolting thrust, he came in his jeans. Cas's hands, still gripping onto his hair, pulled hard as he rode out his orgasm.
Exhausted, Dean collapsed on top of the angel, pressing languid kisses across his neck where bruises were beginning to form. Castiel let his hands drop, his body boneless.
"We should get up," Dean muttered against Cas's throat, "Can't have Bobby or Sam see us like this."
Castiel made a noise from the back of his throat, neither agreement nor discontent. With a great effort, he raised his hand and pressed his fingers against Dean's forehead.
A blink and they were lying on the bed, beneath the blankets, and completely clean. With a great yawn, Castiel snuggled underneath of the hunter, falling asleep near instantly. Dean wrapped his arms around the slight figure and felt his eyes closing as well. This was a much better way to have angel food cake, that was certain.