(A/N: Rated M for mature content and language.
Awhile ago I saw a prompt/challenge... Write a one-shot without any dialog. It was harder than I thought it would be, but I'm actually pleased with the result. Meh. I wrote this mainly as a cure for/distraction from a case of writer's block. Buuuuut I thought I'd share it, anyway, since I finished it.
Warnings: MalexMale slash. Smut (PWP). Language.
Enjoy! :))
Dean Winchester was beat. He slumped a little behind the wheel as he drove, his eyes blinking slow and heavy, often enough to worry he'd drive off the road soon. Cas' not-so-subtle side glances said he was thinking the same thing. He must really be worse off than he thought if he was making Cas a little wary. He nearly cried with relief when the half-lit sign for a motel appeared on the side of the road moments later. He flicked the turn signal on and nearly skidded into the parking lot.
The place looked like a dump but there was no way he was driving any further; they could do without roses on the pillows and working heaters.
He eased the Impala into park and slumped forward, his forehead resting on the steering wheel as he yawned widely. Fuck, he was tired. He jerked up and blinked a few times when the car door slammed and Cas was suddenly pressed against his side, a motel room key dangling from his fingers. When the hell did Cas step out and get a room? He gave a tired grin, as close as he'd get to showing approval for Cas' ability to get a damn room on his own. He nodded once and worked on getting himself out of the car without stumbling.
Dean stretched as soon as he was on his feet, leaning against the cool metal of the Impala for a moment. The cool night air was a little refreshing and he nearly felt human again. Of course, as soon as he realized why there was only one room key (and please, for the love of God, just one bed) a little more of his brain came back on-line and he was almost fully awake again.
His mind wandered for a moment as a shiver that had nothing to do with being cold worked down his back as he remembered the look Cas had given him when he'd nearly gotten his head taken off by a snarling shape-shifter. As soon as the ex-angel had ensured neither of them would die, he'd pinned Dean against the closest wall, those blue eyes intense and fucking dark, and kissed him. The rough bricks he was shoved against, scrapping at his jacket and pulling at his hair every so often, made it impossible to believe he'd been hallucinating, either.
Dean's hand came up to rub at his lips; the a phantom feeling of Cas' lips, teeth and stubble practically making them tingle. He rolled his tongue over them, his thumb gently stroking under his bottom lip as he thought.
It wasn't until he had felt the unmistakable sensation of another cock—a hard cock—against his own did he realize just what the fuck was going on. Cas' deep moan as he jammed a thigh between his legs helped with the whole 'totally not imagining making out with an ex-angel' thing, too.
Sure, they'd danced around each other for years, so he wasn't exactly surprised to be dry-humped by his best friend. What surprised him was how badly he wanted to just shove a hand down Cas' pants and feel that perfect bulge in his pants in more detail.
He remembered the noises Cas had made as they kissed like freakin' teenagers and rutted against each other; desperate little moans, sharp little pants and guttural groans. He hadn't really known until that point just what sort of reaction he'd have to Cas making those sort of sounds. Which, as it turned out, was to harden quicker than a fourteen-year-old with a stolen copy of his mom's Victoria's Secret catalog stashed under his mattress.
If some chick hadn't come by, walking her dog and boppin' along with ear buds in, they probably both would've kept at it until they came in their jeans right then and there. Pushing a whimpering Cas away had honestly been one of the more difficult things he'd had to do in recent years... He hadn't wanted to, regardless of what Cas' darkened glare said, but he really didn't want to put on a show for some poor soccer mom and her poodle.
Or risk get arrested for public indecency.
Dean shivered again, his hard-on back with a vengeance now, and eased himself away from the Impala. He adjusted himself and looked up, noticing that Cas was staring at him, that intense look on his face and their duffel bag slung over his shoulder. Fuck; he had to stop losing touch with reality... He smirked and gave Cas a wink, enjoying the way Cas' cheeks pinked a little and his mouth parted.
And then he felt himself actually twitch in his pants when Cas' tongue poked out and glided over those pink, full lips. He nearly cursed himself for being so bold out in the fucking parking lot. He knew what those lips felt like against his. He also now knew what that tongue felt like, too, and he really didn't want to delay feeling either, on any part of his person, again. They really needed to get into their room...
Castiel turned away and didn't even look back to make sure Dean was following.
Dean was, of course; he always did, dammit. And, he didn't know what room they were in, so he sorta had to. He took the chance to watch Cas' ass as he followed. Even through that god-awful trench coat and those stupid accountant slacks, he could make out the perfect ass. His fingers twitched a little, remembering how perfect that ass felt in his hands. He'd always been an ass man, he just didn't know until Cas that that went for either gender.
It was also possible that Cas' ass was the ass to end all asses.
He was only a few steps behind Cas and he silently closed to motel room door, leaning back against it and staring at Cas in the dim light. Even though there was a lack of mojo surging through Cas, there was still a heavy feeling in the room. Probably that sexual tension Sammy was always bitch-facing and grumbling about. He now wondered about Sam's motivation for staying behind, suddenly not so sure about his brother's claims about needing to research.
At the time he'd been happy to leave Sam to his nerd party, but he was starting to wonder if this was Sam's desperate ploy to get them together—short of throwing them at each other and yelling 'kiss!' like some moose-sized cupid. He might need to thank Sammy... If the look Cas was giving him went where he was hoping it did, he'd probably have to.
Dean kept silent as he watched Cas carefully lower the duffel to the carpet at the foot of the bed, neither of them breaking eye contact. They should probably clean their weapons... But he was honest enough with himself to know that if either of them paused, or even spoke, the silent agreement to finally screw each other senseless would probably just puff away and they'd wuss out.
He really didn't want to miss the chance, truth be told.
Castiel was the first to move, quick to close the distance as if he'd taken some subtle cue from Dean, and they were attached at the face again. It wasn't as hectic this time and Dean took his time to enjoy the kiss, humming softly as he reveled in the sensation of those ridiculously sensual lips against his own. Cas was apparently OK with going slow this time because the ex-angel just followed Dean's lead, letting Dean angle his head with the hands he had on his stubbled jaw.
Dean broke away with a breathless pant, needing oxygen and a short break so his brain didn't melt out of his ears. Fuck, he couldn't remember getting so turned on from just a damn kiss before. His palms made a raspy sound against Cas' stubble and he had no idea he'd find that noise, or the sensation against his palms, sexy as fuck until now. He traced a spit shiny bottom lip with his thumb, staring as Cas' lips parted and he breathed out a happy little sound of pleasure.
He dipped back down and let his lips settle over Cas' jaw, tracing along the firm contours with his tongue and thumb. Heat flushed through his body when Cas made a pleasure filled sound and he had to make another grab at Cas' ass.
Castiel made another soft sound and tilted his head, eager to give Dean whatever room he needed. His hands fisted in the back of Dean's shirt as pleasure sizzled through his body, pooling in his belly as Dean's lips, tongue, and teeth wandered down and across his neck. He nearly hissed a curse when Dean's hips slammed against his own and clothed erections came into contact.
Dean huffed, suddenly irritated with the many layers of clothing they both had on. Seriously; why the hell did he have to wear so many layers? He leaned back and started yanking on Cas' clothes. He pushed the trench coat off, forgetting all about it the moment it hit the faded carpet with a whisper-soft whump of fabric. He went a little easier on the tie so he didn't choke Cas and he felt a heated thrill as the silk snapped through the collar and off Cas' neck. He dropped it to the carpet but made a mental note to use the tie later...
He got to work on that white button down, his fingers fumbling a little with stupid plastic buttons. He grabbed each side of the shirt and just yanked, softly huffing triumphantly when buttons went flying and the shirt finally came open. He had a full view of Cas' chest.
Holy shit.
It was almost as nice as his ass (though, he'd reserve judgement until he had that piece of flesh bared and in his hands). Pebbled, dusty pink nipples. Smooth, lithe muscles. A smattering of chest hair (that he really wanted to run his nose and fingers through) tapering off into a dark little happy trail of goodness into Cas' pants. He hadn't realized how badly he'd want to follow that narrow line of hair until he was staring at it. He watched Cas breath heavily, fascinated (and more than a little turned on) by the way his muscles contracted and rolled with each movement.
Dean realized Cas was struggling with getting him naked and lifted his arms, smirking when Cas gave him an annoyed glance. As if he was to blame for getting caught up staring? He nearly snorted with amusement but cool fingers gently stroking along the scattering of scars on his ribs and stomach stopped him. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into Cas, finally getting his own fingers in on the whole 'touching thing, too.
He nearly sighed with how soft but firm Cas was. So unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It was a rather erotic contrast to feel firm muscle and soft skin. His fingertips were tracing that line of hair again and he grunted in frustration when fabric got in the way. He pushed under the dark waist band and groaned softly when he brushed against something warm, soft and wet. He was actually touching Cas' dick and all he could think of was 'yes, please'. He scrabbled at the stupid clasp on Cas' slacks, nearly tearing stitching and ripping fabric in his haste.
Finally, he got them undone and they fell to pool at Cas' feet. His brain actually stopped for a few seconds when he realized Cas was going commando. Jesus, didn't the guy know you didn't go around without tighty whities on? He wasn't complaining... 'Cause—Well, Cas without underwear was just all kinds of hot.
Castiel tore at Dean's jeans, nearly forgetting how to work a button and zipper, suddenly needing to see Dean just as naked. He growled lowly at the tight boxer-briefs and yanked at them, watching the dark material slip down bowed legs and land on the tops of Dean's feet. He took a step back and just stared. He wanted to murmur compliments, but he didn't think Dean would appreciate it at the moment (if ever).
Instead, he used his hands to feel every part he found pleasing. His fingertips gently brushed over the tattoo on Dean's chest, taking careful note of the way Dean's breath hitched and his eyes fluttered closed. He dragged a thumb down a nipple, watching it pebble with fascination. He'd have to see how that felt on his tongue later... His fingers traced the ridges and contours of muscle and he slid his palms down Dean's sides, his fingers lightly resting on the swell of Dean's buttocks. He was quite sure he could spend hours just sliding his hands along warm, naked skin.
Dean made an embarrassing grunting sound when Cas squeezed his ass, those long fingers almost brushing his crack. Fuck, that was— That was fucking hot. Cas looked up at him and did it again, deliberately this time, the little bastard. He made that grunting sound again and grabbed at Cas' ass. Partly in retaliation but mostly just because he remembered he really wanted to test-drive that baby.
Yeah, it was totally better naked. His fingers flexed and he nearly grinned when Cas gasped, wriggling closer. Any thoughts of grinning or making a joke evaporated when Cas was suddenly kissing him again, hands fisted in his hair and teeth nipping and biting as Cas practically attacked his mouth. He moaned when Cas shoved his thigh between his again, their bare skin and cocks brushing against each other.
Dean was pretty sure Cas had somehow managed to sprout extra hands, because they were every-fucking-where. Fingers were tangled in his hair. Tickling down the nape of his neck and shoulders. Fluttering between his cheeks for the briefest second, making him arch back for more with a choked moan. Down his sides, making him jerk away with a breathless chuckle. Sliding down his thighs, cupping the backs and drawing him closer to Cas' heated body. Their knuckles bumped as they both tried to reach their hands down, wanting to stroke and touch.
He nearly squeaked when the hands at the back of his thighs yanked and his legs were wrapped around Cas' waist. He was this close to complaining, maybe bitching about not being some fucking girl, until he realized Cas was a genius; it was a good position to bring their hips (and pre-come slick-sticky cocks) flush together. Cas' hips rolled and he felt the vibrations in his chest when Cas moaned lowly. The sensation traveled south and made him writhe unashamedly against Cas.
Dean's fingers splayed over Cas' ass. He was pretty sure if he could see, there's be little white marks around his fingertips he was gripping him so tight. Cas didn't seem to mind, though. His grip tightened when Cas spun around and walked towards the bed. Suddenly, being naked and humping against an equally naked Cas against the wall just wasn't enough. He crossed his ankles behind Cas' thighs, holding on when Cas tried to let him go.
Castiel fell on top of Dean with a soft whoosh of air. He was surprised but pleased to not have lost contact with any part of Dean's body. His head dropped down to Dean's chest with a choked moan when Dean's hands started roaming, sliding and squeezing. He stared at the dark ink in front of his face and mouthed it, tracing the points and arcs with his tongue, pleased to hear Dean moan and feel him arch closer. He flicked at a nipple with the tip of his tongue, smiling to himself when Dean gasped and twitched closer again.
He managed to extricate himself from Dean's grasp but immediately shifted lower, intent on seeing—and touching—all of Dean. He ran his hands down slim hips and muscled thighs, thumbing the crease between the two. He noted with extreme interest that Dean's cock was fully erect, flushed and twitching with each touch. He looked up, silently asking if he could get closer.
Dean groaned lowly, unable to look at Cas' widened blue eyes as he practically begged to touch his cock. He nodded rapidly and moaned softly when Cas' hand wrapped around him. It was a tentative touch and Cas' movements started out slow and gentle, like he was figuring out just what to do. Shit, he probably was. Dean chanced a look down and had to bite his lip when he looked straight into hooded, darkened blue eyes.
Fuck, Cas would stare at him with that fucking look even now. He watched, mesmerized, as Cas' lips parted and he made a choked sound of surprise and pleasure when the ex-angel tucked his lips over his teeth and practically dove onto his cock. He expected a gag or a sputter as Cas choked, but it didn't happen. Cas just wiggled his head from side to side, still looking right at him, and nearly got every inch into his mouth and throat. A few bobs of his head and Dean couldn't stop himself from digging his fingers in his mess of hair and yanking a little.
Dean bucked up into wet heat and nearly whimpered when Cas pulled back, licking his lips and humming to himself. He nearly grabbed the back of Cas' head and begged for him to keep going; he wanted more. But if Cas' kept going, it would all be over way too quick.
Castiel paused, suddenly remembering an important requirement if things were to proceed. He shifted down the bed, no doubt startling Dean, hanging off the edge so he could grab the duffel. He quickly unzipped it and carefully stuck his hand in, avoiding weapons and pawing past dirty clothing.
Dean watched Cas practically dive off the bed, stunned and about to protest and demand he get his perfect ass back on task—until he saw what Cas was doing. He groaned softly, even as he stared appreciatively of the way Cas' back, ass and thigh muscles flexed as he shifted. And good god, he had those sexy dimples right over his ass. They were just made to rest his thumbs in while he kissed and nibbled. He was just about to sit up and tongue those little indents when Cas straightened back up and crawled back up his body.
He stared at the bottle of lube. Part of him was curious how Cas knew it was in there and another part was fucking ecstatic he knew it was in there and remembered to grab it. He glanced down at Cas' dick, licking his lips; yeah, that monster wasn't going anywhere near his ass without lube. Cas was looking at him intently and he nearly broke the 'no talking' rule to ask what the hell he was waiting for... Then he saw the way those blue eyes flicked down and back up again.
The question was obvious and Dean didn't really even have to think about it. He nodded and wriggled back against the pillows, spreading his legs in invitation once he was comfortable. Cas gave him another of those intense looks and he nearly squirmed at the feeling—the intensity—he saw there. He took a deep breath and did his best to return the look, apparently Cas couldn't just know he wouldn't be doing this if there wasn't something other than lust bubbling through him.
Yeah, lust was there but there was a whole myriad of shit going through his mind as well. He just didn't want to talk about it.
Castiel nodded, mostly to himself, and got comfortable between Dean's spread legs. He managed to open the bottle of lubricant without making a mess when he squeezed it too hard in his eagerness and applied some to his fingers. It felt cool so he rolled it around his fingers, warming it and spreading it around. He dropped the bottle and ran his other hand along Dean's thigh, enjoying the feeling of soft hair and warm skin against his palm.
He shuffled closer and tentatively touched Dean, fascinated to see the ring of muscle twitch at his touch. He contented himself with running his slicked thumb in gentle, slow circles for a few moments, memorizing each hitched breath and soft sound Dean made. When Dean's legs shifted, spreading wider and giving him room, he looked up. An entirely different kind of warmth bloomed and pleasantly constricted his chest as he took in Dean's closed eyes and the way his teeth were clamped over his bottom lip. He'd truly never seen anything like it.
Castiel slowly eased a thumb in, surprised when it slipped in with relative ease. Dean twitched and made a soft sound of pleasure, so he continued. He gently thrust in and out, wriggling and circling it a few times before sliding it back out with a soft, slick, wet sound. A heel pressed into his back and he was quick to continue, taking the silent but forceful cue for what it was. He eased his index finger in and then added another when that slid in with little resistance. He absently wondered if this was something Dean had experience with and nearly asked.
He looked up and caught Dean's eye, feeling breathless at the naked look of affection and want he saw. He suddenly wished he could always see Dean like this. He leaned forward and kissed the closest part he could reach, his lips brushing against the soft skin of Dean's lower belly in gentle, reverent caresses. He worked another finger inside Dean as he placed a few open-mouth kisses around his navel, pleased that Dean enjoyed the combined sensations enough to make a loud, needy sound and arch into him. He had to admit, the various sounds coming from Dean and the wet sounds from the movement of his slicked fingers was arousing him to the point of desperation.
The sound Dean made when he twisted his fingers and pressed just right had him pulling away, the need to continue overwhelming him.
Dean was ready to start cursing, demanding Cas hurry the fuck up when Cas pulled away, reclaiming the bottle of lube as went. He watched as the ex-angel got to his knees, squeeze a puddle of lube into his palm and then proceeded to fist himself carefully. He wanted to sit up, and twist a slick fist over Cas, lubing him up and just touch him. He swallowed a few times, his brain going all white noise when Cas knee-walked towards him again, settling down on his heels. Hands slid under his ass and he was lifted without much effort and Cas settled him on the tops of strong thighs.
Castiel's gaze was riveted to the junction of their bodies. There was just enough light in the room to see the shiny slickness of Dean's prepared body. He was inches away, he could feel moist heat coming off Dean's body, but he waited a moment, looking up at Dean one last time for permission. He wouldn't blame the Hunter if he had second thoughts... Another few seconds, and there'd be no turning back, no way to go back to being just-friends or companionable Hunters.
He softly sighed when Dean's head jerked in a nod. He carefully aligned himself and wrapped his hands around Dean's hips, slowly pulling the other man up his thighs until he was easing inside. He paused when Dean made a sound but a quick look up at Dean made it clear it had been one of pleasure, only lightly tinged with pain/discomfort. Dean's head flopped back into his pillow and hands were grabbing at his wrists tightly, even as he rolled his hips in an obvious attempt to continue.
Dean wriggled, urging Cas to keep going. He shouldn't be surprised the ex-angel would be a slow, deliberate bastard and take his sweet ass time. Another noise gurgled from him when Cas continued to pull him closer, pressing in and filling him up. Holy shit, did he. He panted, his fingers flexing around Cas' wrists as he got used to the sensation. It didn't take long; Cas had been thorough and he was insanely turned on.
He wrapped his legs around Cas' waist and squeezed, digging his feet into the ex-angel's ass and mentally congratulating himself when Cas made a helpless little moaning sound as his hands slapped onto the mattress. Cas' hips twitched forward, almost clumsily, before he caught himself and shifted with a rolling motion. Dean did it again and Cas finally got the message and started to move.
Castiel lost track of everything else but sensation after Dean pulled him in. It was mind-numbing pleasure, their sweat and lube slicked bodies making soft sounds as they slid against each other as they moved. He couldn't have said any coherent words even if he wanted to, mostly only able to articulate grunts, gasps, and moans. He couldn't keep his hands still, needing to feel and touch Dean everywhere at once. He nearly faltered his movements when Dean's hand slid down his chest, around his hips and dug into the meat of his butt.
Strong fingers flexed and kneaded, adding to the pleasurable moment with the stimulation. His eyes rolled back but he made himself look, taking in the vision of Dean's flushed body, cataloging and enjoying each detail. He watched as Dean's hand fisted his own cock and he wanted to bat it away and wrap his own fingers around it, completely owning Dean and being the one controlling his pleasure. The thought surprised him, but it didn't stop him from doing just that.
Dean let his hand get smacked away, letting Cas do whatever he wanted. His brain was pretty much mush, pleasure singing through his body and making his blood pound in his ears. Cas moved him around again and the backs of his knees were suddenly in the crooks of Cas' elbows, and hands were on either side of his head. Cas was leaning in, pressing close, changing the angle and making him want to howl with pleasure. He could feel the warm slick slide of his dick between their bellies and it was just enough.
He yanked Cas down into a kiss, panting and moaning into each other's mouths. Cas rolled his hips just right and he tried to stifle the loud moan in Cas' neck, but he was still moaning and babbling nonsense as Cas pounded into him. He tried to tell Cas he was close, but his lips were busy again and he could only make more of those embarrassingly breathy, needy sounds that seemed to really spur Cas on.
Castiel panted, feeling the tell-tale signs he was was going to orgasm. He desperately wanted to see Dean arch and writhe with his own pleasure first, though. He wanted to ensure Dean would enjoy this and wouldn't think twice about doing this again. He slid a hand down Dean's side, caressing his flank and settling on his hip. He licked his lips, staring at Dean's flushed chest and wishing he could have his mouth on the steadily leaking cock again.
Dean barely felt the bite of Cas' fingers digging into his hips over the overwhelming sensation of his orgasm as it rushed through him. He might've shouted out Cas' name, but it was hard to tell... He just knew he hadn't come like that in recent memory, if ever, and he was almost numb as his pleasure heavy limbs flopped onto the bed. Cas' thrusts were faltering and he knew the ex-angel was close behind him. He experimentally squeezed his inner muscles and Cas gasped then twitched as he came with a surprised shout.
It was almost adorable the way Cas' eyes and nose scrunched up, his mouth slightly open as he moaned and made all sorts of gasping noises. Well. Partially adorable—but mostly the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. Cas' hips stuttered twice before he went still and flopped down, pinning Dean to the mattress.
He'd complain... But it felt pretty good, actually. Cas wasn't too heavy and he managed to wrap still-tingly limbs around his pliant body. Dean slid his hands through the sweat-damp hair at the back of Cas' head as he tucked his face in Cas' neck, inhaling deeply and licking the skin there. He hummed and let his head flop down onto the pillow, too sated and sleepy to keep his head up any longer. He felt Cas' lips move against his skin and he really hoped Cas wasn't going to ruin the mood with talking.
Castiel slowly, gently, arched his hips enough to ease himself from Dean. The resulting noise and sensation was actually pretty pleasant and he was sure if he hadn't just orgasmed, he'd have been very interested. He slid down Dean's side until he was pressed in close, tentatively wrapping his arm around the Hunter's chest. When Dean didn't smack him away or make any rude comments, he relaxed and closed his eyes.
He heard Dean yawn and he remembered how tired he'd been only moments before they'd gotten into their room. He knew they should probably shower but he was content to stay here, secretly enjoying the warm scent of their pleasure. He reached up and carded a hand through Dean's messy hair, smiling when Dean made a sound akin to a feline's purr and shifted closer, the arm around him tightening. He wanted to tell Dean lots of things but he kept quiet, keeping to the unspoken urge to not say such things aloud.
Lips pressed against his temple and he closed his eyes in bliss, reveling in the feeling of contentment and love he could feel practically radiating from Dean's sleepy, sated body. He and Dean had gotten adept at speaking without words, so he figured this wasn't any different. He pressed a kiss to Dean's chest, right over his heart, smiling against the warm skin when Dean's arm tightened around him again.