The door flings open and Dean staggers backward with such force he almost falls. His legs tangle together and he teeters dangerously, but Cas catches him, hauling him against the wall in front of the door, breathing hard against Dean's neck. His lips hover just above the dip of Dean's collarbone.

Cas buries his face in Dean's neck and nibbles ever so slightly and holy shit it feels amazing. Dean brings his hands up and fists them in Cas's trenchcoat.

"Cas," he groans. At the sound of his name, the angel looks up at Dean under thick lashes with those big baby blue eyes and thoroughly eye-fucks Dean.

He's always been good at that, Dean thinks, and now he's falling, falling into his eyes so fast and so hard and -

ohfuck Cas's lips are on his, and Dean wonders how Cas could be such a good kisser for a virgin. Dean finally remembers what he should be doing and kisses him back, forceful and needy.

Castiel braces his hands against the wall on either side of Dean's head and it gives in just a bit, grooves forming where his fingers dig into the plaster. He presses harder against Dean, and its all lips, teeth, and heavy breathing.

Finally Cas parts his lips just enough, and Dean's tounge slips between those soft lips and it's wet and hot and soft.

Dean can feel Cas's cock pressed against his thigh, contrasting, hard and hot and he wants skin on skin, now.

He grabs Cas's trenchcoat and pulls on it. Cas's head cocks to one side just slightly, then he puts his arms down. He shurgs out of the trenchcoat and loosens his tie in one fluid movement.

Dean takes this chance to turn the tables, stepping forward and pushing Cas against the door, grabbing his shirt and yanking it off. It tears from Cas's body easily, the buttons popping from his chest and all over the floor. Before he can speak Dean is upon him again, His fingers gliding up and down Cas's sides in a firm caress. His body is lean and firm, but not overly muscluar. Dean likes that.

Castiel squirms under Dean's hands and his fingers find the buttons on Dean's shirt.

They fumble with the buttons together, and manage to get most of them off until Cas gets impatient and rips the rest.

Dean never really liked that shirt anyway.

Castiel's hands feel hot on Dean's skin and when the angel's hand glides over the handprint on Dean's shoulder a white hot pleasure zaps through the hunter's body straight to his dick.

"Ca-ahhhh," he pants.

The angel hums in appreciation, and trails gentle kisses down Dean's neck and to his shoulder. His lips are soft and wet, and when he blows across the hunter's skin, goosebumps race down his neck in Castiel's wake. Dean shudders.

Cas looks up at him under his thick lashes. "I rebuilt you," he growls, and shoves his knee between Dean's jean-clad legs. He can feel Dean's cock pressed against his thigh and he rubs, basking in the sounds Dean makes.

Castiel brings his hand up to Dean's mouth and traces the hunter's full lips. The pad of his thumb presses against them, and then is surrounded by the wet-hot heat of Dean's mouth.

Dean sucks, his tounge slipping around the digit, teasing for what's to come. Cas groans, rubbing his covered cock against Dean's leg, watching Dean tease him with blown wide eyes.

With a pop Castiel withdraws his thumb, traces Dean's cheek lovingly and leaves cold a trail down the side of his face. "I rebuilt you," he repeated again, and his hand grazed the handprint on Dean's shoulder. "And now I'm going to take you apart."

The promise of such pleasure send's Dean's mind into overdrive and hewhines.