The sound of the TV was the only thing to break the silence in the mostly empty motel room, and the room was lit by the eerie backwash of light from the TV alone. The light hanging in the center of the ceiling and the lamps on the bedside tables remained unlit. Dean laid on one of the beds in the motel room, alone, still booted feet propped up on the bed before him.
He popped another potato chip in his mouth, chewing and crunching loudly over the muted soundtrack of the current film he was watching, salt staining his lips as his tongue lapped out to capture stray crumbs from the corners. He tried not to flinch when Castiel suddenly ghosted into existence by the door, eyes resting intently on Dean's face as though he knew just where in the room he'd be, even before the angel arrived.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel said ominously, large eyes blinking in the light thrown out from the TV.
"Hey, Cas," Dean murmured, as he scooted across the bed to make room for the angel.
Castiel perched on the side of the bed, drawing his coat securely around his slim body, as he swung his own legs up onto the bed, highly polished shoes catching the light from the TV and throwing it back in segmented rhythms across his face in ever shifting patterns of light and darkness. Dean nudged his lover gently with one elbow, attracting Castiel's attention to the bag of potato chips held temptingly in front of the angel's body, a slight smile curving Dean's lips in invitation.
Surprisingly, Castiel's slender hand dipped into the half filled bag, drew forth a greasy chip with suddenly shining fingertips before placing the shiny snack in his mouth. Dean watched as Castiel's lips pouted as he ate, pushed out by his mouthful and glistening with a sheen of grease and dappled with salt. The hunter wanted to kiss Castiel, to lick the salt away and taste Castiel beneath.
"Where's Sam?" Castiel asked, transferring his gaze to Dean's face from the TV screen curiously.
"Gone to get pizza," Dean replied, reaching across to cup Castiel's cheek with one warm, firm, salt encrusted hand. "He'll probably be back soon."
Castiel smiled, leaned into his touch and kissed the palm of Dean's hand, tongue lapping out in sudden short strokes to taste the salt on Dean's skin. Dean chuckled, watched him continue to lick his skin clean in small kittenish laps, until all the salt was gone. The angel smiled at him; a small, private smile that spoke magnitudes of his love for Dean.
"So what are you watching?" Castiel asked, gesturing towards the TV set with his clean hand, reaching for another potato chip absently when Dean propped the bag between their bodies pressed close upon the bed.
"I dunno, some porno flick," Dean replied, too distracted by the beauty of the angel beside him to pay any attention to the porn movie playing out in graphic detail across the screen.
It wasn't as if the hunter was even watching the movie anyway, too distracted by current events and his ever deepening relationship with Castiel to even truly appreciate the movie any more. They didn't mean the same thing to him as they once did; the ladies didn't seem half as pretty, half as much of a sexual turn on that they had previously. This led Dean to the conclusion that he'd truly fallen head over heels for Castiel, to the point of seeing no one else but him as being even remotely attractive and a symbol of sexual desire.
All he could think about was Castiel, craved his touch, his body, his gentle kisses and frantic love making, finding thoughts of him more of a turn on than some half rate porno flick that showed at late night intervals on pay-per-view. Why he was even watching this now, Dean didn't even know.
Dean returned his gaze blindly to the screen, attention no longer even half caught by the flimsy excuse of a plot masquerading between gratuitous sex scenes in various places about someone's home. The hunter's attention had been tenuous at best, now even less so exposed to his lover beside him.
"I see," Castiel replied, voice cool and closely guarded to Dean's earlier comment.
"I'm sorry, Cas, we can turn over if you want. I'm not even watching this," Dean said, mouth pushing out in a rueful gesture as he rolled his eyes at the sex on a garden chair in full view of the dog scene currently playing out in front of them. "I kinda don't like these any more."
Castiel's lips quirked into an amused smirk, but didn't comment on the reason behind Dean's statement, knowing full well why Dean wasn't interested in the movies now. Instead his gaze flickered to Dean's tense face, eerily lit by shifting colors before he glanced back at the TV screen.
"No, this is fine, Dean," Castiel said, voice gentle, quiet, thoughtful as though regarding the movie in much the same way as someone would a new breed of animal or insect. "I have never seen one of these porno flicks before. I want to see what humans find so attractive about them."
Dean turned suddenly wide eyes onto him, unable to believe what he'd just heard coming from Castiel's mouth with his own ears.
"Excuse me?" he asked, voice hoarse as he choked on the last mouthful he'd taken of potato chips, crumbs and salt lining his throat in irritating strands and setting him to coughing.
"I want to watch this, Dean," Castiel repeated more firmly this time. "You have been watching these for years, and I want to watch one too. I want to watch it with you."
He turned his luminous blue eyed gaze onto Dean's eyes shimmering with borrowed light from the TV screen, almost masking the intense pleasure even the small act of watching a movie with Dean gave Castiel.
"You're serious," Dean stated, unable to hide the pleasure leaking into his voice and turning into a warm purr of satisfaction. "You sly dog, you; I never would have had you pegged as a porno angel."
Castiel huffed out a small laugh from his nose, turning his rapt and sometimes singular attention back to the screen in front of them, slender fingers reaching for another potato chip, meeting Dean's hand in the bag instead. They fought over the desired potato chip until Dean gave in, letting Castiel have it graciously. Again, Castiel snickered out a small huff of laughter through his nostrils, making Dean smile in turn beside him.
Dean watched Castiel, no longer even mildly interested in the writhing bodies onscreen, content instead to watch Castiel beside him. He smiled every time that Castiel eased another potato chip past salt shining lips, every time that Castiel blinked hugely at an extra loud moan coming from the TV's sensitive speakers. A muffled sigh eased past plump lips as he crammed another chip into his already full mouth.
Dean's eyes travelled over Castiel's body, at the way he loosened his tie, his collar still further as though hot, uncomfortable or possibly both. Dean watched still, smiled still when the angel removed his coat, his jacket and sat beside him looking strangely naked in his shirt sleeves and pants, erection bulging against his pants temptingly. Dean licked his lips, made an approving sound deep in his throat and inadvertently attracting his lover's gaze back to his face once more, throat working as Castiel's ripe lips parted in the flickering light.
"What do you think?" Dean asked, gently, voice pitched low as though to invite further conversation marked too intimate for other ears.
"I like it," Castiel replied, a small smile flickering across his face and mirrored in his eyes, lips shining and grease stained in the light.
"I never pegged you for a porn guy, Cas," Dean observed again, with dry humor. "So you like the lady, huh?"
This last said as he nodded towards the brunette writhing on the screen, breathy moans and pleasured gasps breaking from ruby red lips as she touched herself and the man who was with her.
"No, the lady does not hold any interest for me at all," Castiel said, firmly, without taking his gaze from Dean's face.
"You sure? The guy then? Perhaps you like the guy," Dean said, softly, teasingly, knowing full well who Castiel was thinking of as he watched the movie.
"No Dean, I don't care for the man either," Castiel replied, voice harsh and disapproving now making Dean's smile grow broader against his cheeks. "I only care for you."
Dean's eyebrows raised politely, trying to hide his pleasure, his pride over being picked for pornographic thoughts, even though he knew, he hoped it was coming. He didn't try and fight Castiel as the angel pressed silky smooth and greasy lips against his own, tasting of salt and potato and Castiel, tongue sliding effortlessly into Dean's open mouth, playing against the hunter's tongue in warm wet stripes. Dean moaned his approval, no longer caring for half-assed porno movies, intent on starring in his own porno movie with his real life lover.
He felt Castiel push him down upon the bed, hands insistent and salty against his t shirt, sliding up and under the smooth fabric and tickling over sensitive, super heated skin. He felt the angel settle in against his thighs, body slotting easily in between his hastily spread legs, dick pressing hard against Dean's own erection. Dean moaned, gasping for breath between kisses as Castiel groped his t shirt away from Dean's body, breaking the kiss long enough to push the fabric away from Dean's heavily muscled body.
Castiel drew enough away to rake an appreciative gaze over Dean's body, eyes lingering over every facet and plane of the hunter's skin that he could see, as though he had never seen Dean partially naked before. Dean shuddered beneath the weight of Castiel's gaze, tongue lapping out to lick all traces of salt, grease and the taste of Castiel from his mouth and savoring it all. His hands rose up and stroked his own nipples, made Castiel groan with the sight and strip off his shirt, his tie, wriggle free from his pants once he was kneeling once more.
Dean laid back and watched him, enjoying the show as inch by painful inch, Castiel's body was slowly revealed, glistening in the light thrown out by the TV set, colors shifting and playing over the angel's chest, his flat abdomen, his peaked nipples, his arousal as he pulled his boxers free, setting his cock to curl up towards his abdomen temptingly.
Dean reached for him, smiling, helped the angel to ease his heavy jeans from around his waist, his thighs, kicking them away from his ankles when they proved a restrictive hobble around his ankles. He felt Castiel's hands travel over his exposed skin, heard the sound of Castiel's wings springing free from his vessel, ripping through the air with a sound only Dean was attuned to keenly. Dean moaned, loved the sound, the sight, the feel of Castiel's soft-soft wings beneath his fingertips, his palms as he reached for him, reached to stroke his lover's appendages gently.
Castiel cried out at the merest touch of Dean's hand on his wings, shuddered against his lover's body and almost came from what Dean knew from past experience was the angelic equivalent of masturbation, hips rutting against Dean's to gain further friction for them both. Dean continued to stroke Castiel's outstretched wings, concentrating more on the left than the right, eyes blinking owlishly in the ever flickering light, firm lips parted as he watched Castiel's aroused expression.
The flickering light played across the angel's face, throwing ever shifting colors over his flushed and sweating features, ripe lips pushed out in a needy pout as Dean continued to stroke his wings, felt the punishing weight of his hips thrusting against his own. Dean stopped his stroking hand reluctantly, pulled his fingers away from the angel's softly feathered wings and instead pushed one hand through Castiel's hair, which was almost as soft as his wing feathers.
Castiel whined, a long, low croon deep in his throat as he tried to get the pressure back on his wing, tried to make Dean resume his strokes and make the angel feel good, to pleasure him once more. Dean smiled faintly at him and shook his head firmly at him.
"No, Cas," the hunter said, tone as firm as the shake of his head had been. "No more. I want my bag."
Castiel seemed reluctant to move, just stared down at him, large blue eyes even wider, more pleading than they usually were, and Dean's resolve almost broke. He shook his head once more, more to himself than to Castiel as a particularly loud groan and cry of arousal filtered from the TV set.
Castiel's eyes fluttered, lips parted still further as his tongue licked out over the ripe silken surfaces of his mouth nervously, throat working in dry spurts. His hands pawed at Dean's body, insistently, gasps penetrating the air between them as he stroked slender fingers down Dean's chest, digging into his bare shoulders and making Dean squirm beneath him, pleasured groans of pain induced arousal falling from his lips.
"Cas, give me my bag," Dean said again, more insistently this time, gesturing over at the far wall urgently. "We can't do anything until we have my bag, and the lube."
Castiel's eyes cleared, became more coherent for the briefest of times, which was long enough for Dean. He pushed again at Castiel's naked body, fingers sweeping seductively over the feathered surface of one wing and nodding when Castiel cried out and shuddered against him.
"Cas, I won't ask again," Dean urged, pushing again at Castiel's body.
Castiel nodded back at him, wordlessly, before swinging his legs up and over Dean's body, leaving him for a while. The hunter shuddered against the cold that suddenly slapped against his skin, totally unaware previously of how hot Castiel's skin had been against his own, at the feel of the feathers covering them both like the warmest of blankets. Dean moaned, tried to get some warmth back into his skin by rubbing his hands over his chilled skin, trying to create enough friction to make the goosebumps disappear.
He looked up when the angel appeared by his side once more, kneeling beside him and covering his body with one wing in an attempt to warm him while he passed the bag to the hunter. His eyes were still large, expectant, aroused and his dick curled insistently up towards his abdomen, shining in the light from the TV, flickers dancing across aroused skin, sweat stained and shining in the light.
Dean moaned when Castiel leant down and gave him a quick and dirty kiss, mouths, tongues wet and sloppy, kiss messy and perfect in its hastily stolen moment of wanton beauty. Dean felt as though he were about to come apart at the seams, fly off to all corners of the room with every sweep and pass of Castiel's pawing, groping hands, every sweep of his soft-soft wings across exposed flesh, every sweep of his tongue inside Dean's mouth and reaming moans from the hunter's willing throat.
The kiss left Dean breathless, without will, lust and love raging hefty hot battles in his body as he struggled the lube from his bag, almost dropping it to the floor in his haste. Castiel caught the lube easily, eyes wide and trusting as he passed it to Dean, lips puckered out in soft approval as Dean flipped open the lid and applied cool, shining liquid to hot, trembling, too eager fingers.
His breath wheezed in his throat, burst past parted, pouting lips as he eased his fingers over Castiel's erection, sweeping the lube over straining, hard flesh in heady sweeps of slick fingers. Castiel moaned, eyes drifting closed as a shudder worked through his body at Dean's touch, making him seem fragile, beautiful, wings shimmering and shivering in the suddenly too thick and heavy air. Arousal hung between them, staining the air glorious and addictive, as the angel pressed in closer to Dean, body slotting against the hunter's, seeming even more like the other half of the whole they made together. Dean murmured his approval, smiled in encouragement when Castiel turned his heavy gaze onto him, plump, tempting lips parted and smiling down at him.
Dean had never seen Castiel smile so much as when he was with the hunter himself; every small grin and curve of his lips a pleasure, a delight, unexpected in suddenness in the usually solemn, almost taciturn angel. Dean felt touched that he seemed to bring out the smiles in his lover, as though Castiel felt things only when he was with Dean. In a way, Dean felt the same way, feeling things with Castiel that he'd never felt before, didn't feel with another and didn't think he would feel again. Dean wasn't planning on straying from Castiel's side any time soon, so didn't think that he'd have to worry about losing the feelings that always felt so beautiful to him.
Dean's back arched and a harsh cry escaped his lips as Castiel's cool, slick fingers caressed the tight ring of muscles surrounding his hole, tips gentle yet probing, finally easing in and stretching Dean wider slowly. Dean's breath caught in his throat, threatened to choke him with the sharp pain swiftly followed by intense pleasure as Castiel found his prostate, fingertip nudging against the sensitive bundle and making the hunter shudder, shiver, moan for his lover loudly.
Castiel smiled again when he felt Dean's hands clutching possessively at his body, palms slick with lube and sweat as the hunter's head thrashed, pleas fallen fresh and half formed from his gaping mouth. Castiel eased his fingers slowly from Dean's body, settled his own sweaty skin against his lover's and kissed him. Their tongues fucked eagerly into each other's open mouths, groans trapped and swallowed by turn from each of them, rumbles of desire ratcheting their chests as Castiel's dick prodded against Dean's tight little hole temptingly.
Dean angled his legs wider, ass tilted up towards Castiel and inviting him in, crying out and clutching his lover's body when he felt Castiel press ever inwards, dick sliding in inch by slow inch, filling him gently and completely. Their bodies were connected in the physical sense as well as the emotional, as slowly, slowly Castiel started to move deep inside his lover, hips moving languidly against Dean's own as he thrust his dick into Dean's hole erratically.
Dean watched as Castiel's wings fanned the air behind him, beating in erratic stokes in time with his thrusting hips, wafting cool breezes down upon them both and cooling their sweat streaked bodies. Dean reached out, fingers clutching at one of Castiel's wings desperately, fingertips digging into sensitive tendons and soft on soft feathers, making Castiel cry out in unadulterated ecstasy.
The sounds that fell from Dean's mouth were beautiful, tight moans and pleading groans falling past a constricted throat as Castiel picked up the pace still more, moving into Dean more firmly, thick shaft pleasuring Dean as much as Dean's tight channel pleasured Castiel. Dean's eyes closed, then opened, stared up at Castiel's aroused, slack face, ripe mouth parted as an obscene groan fell past his panting lips gently.
The sex noises on the still flickering TV screen were ongoing, providing a higher counterpoint to Dean and Castiel's lower pitched groans of arousal and excitement, though still matching with intense fervor all the same. Dean's hands grasped at Castiel's ass, pushed against him to encourage his lover to push in deeper still, and Castiel did, leaning into him more to gain better purchase, hips now pounding against Dean's. The hunter's body moved and jerked beneath Castiel's onslaught, pleasured noises falling from their mouths as they made desperate love on the floor, eager noises splitting the air as they writhed.
Dean started touching himself, fingers grasping and working over his straining erection and smearing pre-cum over the taut flesh, cries growing thinner and higher as he pleasured himself in time with Castiel's rolling thrusts. He felt his orgasm pushing through him, threatening to destroy him and he caved, gave into it and let it consume him, come coating his hand in thick strands and spilling out onto Castiel's abdomen in stripes.
Castiel heard his name heavy and groaning on Dean's lips, heard the need and deep seated love and trust evident in the hunter's gasped out, fucked out moans, felt Dean's fingers tugging, twisting, stroking the angel's soft-on-soft wings and came, filled Dean with thick spurts of his hot release, screaming Dean's name to the ceiling as the lady onscreen achieved climax as counterpoint to the angel's own climax.
Dean smiled, held Castiel's body against his own, raining tender kisses upon Castiel's sweaty cheeks, his closed, fragile eyelids and lastly, his soft, sweet mouth parted, silken surfaces responsive beneath his own. Dean wanted to lay like that for as long as he could, stayed settled against Castiel's hot body, feeling the backwash of pleasure and fucked out bliss emanating from his lover and matching it with mirroring emotions of his own.
Castiel smiled, eyes trained blindly on the TV screen as the credits rolled, and felt Dean's heavily muscled chest rise and fall in a contented, weary sigh. He tilted his head to stare up at him, large eyes blinking in the darkened room, as the next movie started. Dean flicked the TV set off, plunging the room into proper darkness, illuminated only by the headlights of a car pulling into the parking lot outside.
"Holy crap, it's Sam," Dean muttered, tone more urgent than his fucked out movements, too weary to move further than flinging the mussed sheets over his body, over Castiel's body.
Castiel cast a glance at him, as though wary, frightened of being discovered in a compromising situation and Dean nudged him, smiling in support at him.
"Don't worry, Cas," Dean assured him, gently. "It's not like Sam hasn't seen me in bed with you before. He knows what we get up to, or he should do."
Castiel nodded slowly, large eyes blinking in the sudden light streaming in from the door, lamp hanging above them on the ceiling flaring into sudden light as Sam snapped it on as he entered. Sam stopped when he saw Castiel huddling into Dean's body and adding more warmth and comfort by draping one wing over his lover's body lazily, the fingers of one hand caressing Dean's chest in lazy patterns.
"Hey, guys," Sam said, unfazed by the state of undress and the compromising situation he'd found the lovers in. "Cas, your wings are showing."
Dean snuffled out a laughter, as though Sam had thought the appearance of Castiel's wings akin to catching a sight of his vessel's dick or something. Sam smiled, slightly, before settling down beside them, garnering Dean's gruff - "Hey!" - of disapproval when he almost did expose both Dean and Castiel's naked state through shifting the sheets slightly with his weight.
"Sorry," Sam said, moving to the other bed and giving Castiel and Dean more room and sheet covered privacy. "I brought the pizza."
He wafted the cardboard box he held in both large hands at Dean's appreciative face, smiling when even Castiel turned curious, hungry eyes onto the box, then onto Sam himself. When Dean reached for the box, so did Castiel, both clamoring for a slice and making Sam smile, dimples flashing in the light as he opened the box, allowing the lovers better access to the tempting smelling food spread out before them.
"Okay guys, I'm gonna go get washed up, I need a shower," Sam said, one large hand scratching over his chest, face pulled down tight in a look of extreme disgust over his own unwashed state. "And there'd better be some of that pizza left for when I get back. Hadn't there, Dean."
This last more a statement than a question and directed towards Dean without remorse. Dean turned an innocent expression onto his brother, cheeks too filled with food to form a coherent sounding response. Castiel nodded at Sam in Dean's place.
"I'll make sure he doesn't eat it all, Sam," the angel said, voice calm, definite, reassuring.
"Thanks, Cas," Sam said, as he turned away from them, a smile lighting his face ruefully. "Don't stint on denying him a thing if he eats it all, okay?"
"I won't," Castiel replied, a smile in his voice, making Dean protest loudly through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni loaded pizza dough.
Sam was still chuckling to himself when he closed the door to the bathroom, shutting the lovers in the main bedroom, knowing that there would, no doubt, be a lot more going on in there than merely eating while he was gone ...
-fini-
