A Rosebud Trimmed with Hazelnut

by: xxxdestielxxx

A/N: I don't own Supernatural or any character herein, only the storyline.

The sun was setting over Lawrence, Kansas, illuminating distant thunderheads in a glorious display of the Lord's work. The dull roar of the cicadas were the song of the coming evening as the city sunk into a drowsy lull. On a sleepy sidestreet in the old part of town, a small coffee shop was closing for the final time. Gazing out at the cracked pavement, Castiel sighed as he dried the last cup with his worn, well-loved rag. His eyes tracked over the gleaming hazelnut interior of his most beloved shop, regret welling up inside of him. It was in moments like these, in the quiet of the evening, that he regretted filing Chapter Eleven for his small business. He sighed again, knowing it was all too likely that his regrets would be later drowned in a glass of smooth Jameson's. What a way to end the night.

The tinkling of the bell pulled him from the depths of his reverie and he started slightly, blues eyes tracking up to behold the man standing in the doorway. The smooth, worn leather accentuated the muscular shoulders and arms of the stranger, his full, plush lips were contrasted by the sharp turn of his jaw, lightly stubbled and glowing golden in the rays of the setting sun. But it was the eyes of the man that captured his attention. They were the exact shade of green as the sun shining through a newly unfurled leaf at the birth of spring. Castiel held in a gasp. They glinted like clever shards of jade as they darted around his shop accessingly. A light dusting of freckles peppered his nose, adding a touch of boyish innocence to his otherwise chiseled features. Castiel licked his lips as his eyes travelled downwards over the vintage Led Zeppelin shirt stretched thin over well-toned pectorals. His well-worn jeans moved on his legs like a second skin, capturing the delectable contours of his thighs as he stepped into the shop. Castiel mused that his bow-legged stance should seem plebeian but was instead strangely alluring.

'Hey.' The stranger's voice was like the husks of Kansas corn whispering in a September wind, but with an undertone of honeyed silk. 'Who's a guy gotta fuck to get a slice of pie 'round here?'

Castiel's heart felt as though it was struck with a bolt from Heaven, but his loins were burning in the fires of Hell. That voice had a direct line to his heated core. He could feel the warmth coiling like the Devil's fingers curling themselves around the base of his spine.

Castiel's face flushed almost imperceptibly under his angelic stubble. 'You will not have to copulate with anybody to receive… service in my establishment.' His voice was like gravel under the tyres of a Lamborghini, raspy with suppressed desire.

'The name's Dean.' The stranger extended his hand, and when Castiel took it he could feel the callouses and wear of a seasoned traveller. He longed to feel those rough, experienced hands in a more intimate setting. And lower. Much lower.

'I am Castiel.' He replied, his voice husky with intent.

'So, Angel of Thursday, huh? Suits you.' Dean stared into the unfathomable depths of Castiel's brilliant azure eyes as he spoke, his gaze unwavering.

Dean reluctantly broke his firm grasp on Castiel's slim fingers as he cast his verdant eyes up and across the menu, chewing his lower lip in deep thought.

Castiel couldn't help but stare as the tip of his pink tongue flicked over the lush, pouty flesh of his lower lip, wetting it with glistening saliva.

'I'll take the, uh, chai latté. Double shot of espresso, I got a long night ahead of me.' Dean's emerald eyes smoldered with the implication as he once again locked his gaze with Castiel's sapphire blue gems.

Dean watches every movement intently as Castiel prepared the drink. Castiel felt his heavy gaze and his eyelashes fanned over his heated cheeks in an attempt to cool their fire. But, it only served to fan the flames.

Castiel's hand trembled as he poured the finished drink into the cup, and several droplets of scorching liquid landed upon his delicate skin. He winced but knew deep inside that it could not rival the burn of his desire for this beautiful stranger.

'Your order is prepared.' Castiel's sandpapery rasp betrayed his longing and brought Dean back to reality.

Dean proffers his hand and Castiel meets him halfway with the cup, their fingertips intertwining around the 85% recycled cardboard exterior of the cup. Their breaths hitched in unison as though, although having never met, their souls seemed to have always orbited in an eternal dance. Dean's tongue emerges once more from the hot, damp cavern of his mouth and darts over his glinting teeth. Castiel's eyes followed it hungrily and a low growl crawled its way out of his throat. Dean's smile is predatory as he understands implicitly, and the lingering brush of fingers becomes a caress as he reaches out further and encloses Castiel's slender wrist in a firm and knowing embrace.

'Listen, I know we just met, and I must be fuckin' crazy, but…?' Dean pulls back slightly, but Castiel leans into his touch and stares intently into the mossy green orbs across from him.

The silence allowed them to hear the rumbling of distant thunder; a warning of the unprecedented and unplanned acts they both suddenly knew they were destined to perform. A warning that Castiel could not bring himself to heed. Both sets of seaglass-coloured eyes, one blue, one green, illuminated by the dying light of the day, flickered to the impeccably maintained vintage 1967 black Chevrolet Impala sitting in the parking lot, poised like a panther awaiting the tangle of their limbs.

They then exchanged a knowing glance and Dean lowered his voice and his eyes to whisper huskily, 'Ah, wanna take this outside… babe?'

'Yes. I feel that our genitals were destined to align. It is fate. It is destiny.' Dean found his odd manner of speaking endearing rather than offputting, and a smile broke out over his supremely ruggedly handsome features.

Dean reaches over the counter and lifts Castiel by the waist in an incredible display of strength and control, making Castiel's loins quiver anew. The voyage to the car in Dean's arms passed in a blur of the musky scent of leather, whisky, and the Road.

Castiel inhaled deeply and could taste the thick scent of a storm. He watched clouds roll in as Dean unlocked the door, but was soon wrenched away from his thoughts by a hot tongue on his neck.

'Get in the back.' Dean growled arousingly as he tongued wetly at Castiel's collar bone. Castiel pulled away with a moan of impatience. His deep voice deepened deeper by deeply deepened lust, he commanded:

'Kiss me, Dean. Now.'

And with that, their mouths collided with the force of the newly returned tide flinging itself at the white cliffs of Andover. Through the hot tangle of lips, tongue, and teeth, Castiel felt himself being maneuvered firmly but gently onto the firm, buttery awaiting leather of the back seat of the vintage muscle car.

Dean freed Castiel's turgid member from the confines of its denim prison. As he sprung free, cock slapping against his taught, naked belly, a few pearlescent droplets of precum were already beading at the head.

Dean gave a wolfish smile as he undid the beaten silver buckle of his belt. Castiel's trembling hands flew like tentative turtledoves to assist him and shakily unzipped the final barrier between him and Dean's cock.

Dean trailed his fingertips through the sacred forest of Castiel's soft, downy nethers hair, down to the base of his venerable oak.

'D'you want this, baby? I know you want this baby.' Dean's voice was like silk, like crushed velvet, like pressed satin running through the depths of his aural canals.

'Yes. Take me Dean. Take me hard. Don't be gentle.' Castiel shivered as Dean's other hand ran over the tender coral rosebuds of his nipples, tweaking them into delighted perkiness.

Castiel shuttered in readiness, his puckered virgin hole pulsing in anticipation.

Dean slowly, agonisingly kisses his way down from where Castiel's adams apple bobs in his porcelain neck as he swallows heavily with need. Castiel mewls softly in answer to Dean's growls as that hot mouth voyages between the twin peaks of his bosom.

Castiel's pianist fingers desperately grasp at Dean's pulsing member, and Dean keens in delight but muffles the sound against Castiel's alabaster flesh. He swiftly casts the seeking hand away and groans, 'No, Cas, babe, this is all for you.'

'But Dean, I also wish to pleasure y-' Castiel would have continued if it weren't for the slow and sultry glide of Dean's luscious lips closing over the weeping crown of his cock. Any protests left in Castiel's mind disappeared with a moan as Dean took him in to the hilt, cheeks hollowing as he suckled like a newborn babe at its mother's teat. With a damp pop the wonderful heat of Dean's deep love tunnel left him straining for more, thrusting upward weakly in his impatience. He spared a glance down and saw Dean waiting above his moistened member. As soon as their eyes met, it was as if an electric current was established between their blown pupils, and Dean's golden head dipped back down and they joined once more.

'UUUUUUUUggghhhhhhhh! DEAN! GIVE ME MORE!' Castiel whimpered, helpless as wave after wave of pleasure wracked his body. The tension coiling tighter, the white heat pooling in his testicles. 'Dean, I think I'm on the verge of-'

Dean retreated, regret written in every line of his beautiful face. 'Not yet, Cas. I want to shake you all night long, just like AC/DC.'

Castiel let out a strangled moan as he felt Dean's rugged fingers trail lower, cresting his puckered hole. Dean scissored him open slowly.

'You're beautiful, baby.' Dean murmured as he marveled at Castiel's hazelnut-rimmed carnation asshole blossoming under his tender ministrations. Dean's green eyes flashed like Saint Elmo's Fire as they cast about, searching for something, anything to ease their journey to becoming one being, one soul.

Castiel's eyes shimmered like the aurora borealis as he saw what Dean's muscled hands had alighted upon. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to object, but Dean silenced him with a finger to his soft, malleable lips.

Dean brought the chai latté nearer and began to spread the frothy milk foam over Castiel's anus. Castiel wanted to protest but it felt so good; it felt so right.

His preparations complete, Dean gripped Castiel's slender hips tight enough to leave bruises and positioned himself over his prone, trembling form. Castiel felt the head of Dean's manhood brush against his entrance and his shuddered in anticipation. In one smooth, practised motion Dean entered Castiel with a suppressed grunt of sheer ecstasy.

'Oh God, you're so tight babe.' Dean's eyes were closed; lips parted as he pants.

'You shouldn't take the Lord's name in vain while we preform such unholy acts, Dean.' Castiel chastises as he scrabbled for purchase on Dean's back, finding none on the smooth plains and rippling muscles.

Castiel growls, 'Move.'

Dean acquiesces, his thrusts hard and stuttering in response to the commanding tone of Castiel's sex-and-whiskey voice.

Rain pounds at the window pane as Dean ploughs desperately into the soft flesh of Castiel's ass. Their hips roll in tandem with the thunder, pleasure flashing through them like the lightning illuminating their mating.

At the height of the storm, Castiel feels the tip of Dean's tumescent cock finally brush his sweet spot. Unrestrained, he cries out and feels as though he is elevated on white, feathery wings of ecstasy.

'Ooohh! More Dean! Right in that exact spot! Please bring me to fruition, I beg of you!' Castiel shrieks, desperate as he rocks himself back into Dean's thrusts. The car's shocks purr in approval at their frantic coupling.

The rhythm takes on a new, relentless pace as Dean drives into Castiel, hitting his prostate at the apex of every thrust. Their sweat slicked bodies slide against the sleek hide of the vintage car seats. They clutch at each other as though they want to absorb one another, their souls reaching for glorious union. It wouldn't be long now.

Above them, the storm breaks, all the wrath of Heaven falling from the sky like it was in the old times. The ear-shattering thunder was ignored by the lovers as they, together, as one, achieved their climax. Though his mind is fogged with lust and pleasure, Castiel can tell that Dean is nearing his completion; his thrusts stuttering and his breathing ragged. Dean's swollen, love-bitten lips parted around a rapturous, shuddering groan as his muscled body began to tense. Castiel responded in kind, stomach clenching, nails digging into the smooth skin of Dean's buttocks, trying in vain to bring him closer, but they were already over the edge.

Dean slams into Castiel with a shout of elation, and Castiel could feel pulse after pulse of Dean's hot seed spilling inside him and filling him to the brim. It was that exultant sensation that brought Castiel over the precipice and to Valhalla with a cry.

'Cas, oh God, Cas!' Dean bit down on Castiel's shoulder, to muffle his moans as his orgasm continued to rip through him.

Castiel could only respond with screams of pleasure as his essence spurted onto his chest. Dean hurriedly began to lap at the precious fluid despite his body still being wracked by the aftershocks of orgasm.

They remained interlocked for an indeterminate amount of time, shattered by their pleasure but held together by their love. Above them the skies slowly cleared, the thunder retreating across the wide Kansas plains much like the throes of their ecstasy fading into a settled warmth. High in the Heavens above them, the newly revealed stars shone down upon them, watching over them as they slipped peacefully into a lover's sleep. The morning would come in due time, but now, together, they would dream as one.

The End.