Warning: Things get steamy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters represented therein. I just like to take them out to play.
CASTIEL
Castiel stood in the doorway to the bunker and watched Dean storm off down the corridor, the hunter muttering curses under his breath as he headed straight past the entrance to his room and on to the bathroom just a little further down. "Do you think that he is alright?" he asked, eyes narrowing as Dean slammed the door behind him. His human hadn't said more than a few words on the drive back. Five, to be precise: Thanks for saving my ass.
"Hmm, Dean? Yeah. I'm sure he's fine," Sam reassured without removing his head from the inside of the refrigeration unit. "He just really, really doesn't like witches."
"They are unpleasant," Castiel agreed, still staring down the hall and rocking a little against the onslaught.
The images had started almost as soon as the hunter had closed the door, the slam of the wood against the frame the breaking of a dam that swept through the angel's mind. All of them were of him and his human doing…Well, things that could only be described as sinful. The first time such a thing had happened he had nearly exploded right out of his vessel, completely caught off guard by the pornographic scenes marching their way through his head. If nothing else he was quite sure that he would burn from the embarrassment of such a thing.
Except he didn't die. Not at all.
He had burned, yes, but not in a way that he understood. Not really. He knew only that it wasn't unpleasant and when it happened again he blushed but did not object.
It had not taken him long to realize what was going on, to realize how those images were slipping into his head. Dean was praying them, though after careful observation it became obvious that the hunter had no idea what he was doing.
And Castiel, an Angel of the Lord, did nothing to stop him.
Cas. Cas. Cas. Cas. Dean's roughened voice trickled through his head, causing the angel to clench his teeth and look away. It was always the worst when the hunter's voice wormed its way through. It made it so much harder for the angel to hold himself back, to continue to function outside of whatever was taking place in Dean's head. It was the voice whose desperate pleas had kept him hounding hell for forty years, searching for a way in. It was the voice that had drawn him, gripped Castiel until he had gripped the man it belonged to and raised him up.
It was the voice that Castiel could never dismiss, never completely ignore.
Between the adrenaline from the hunt and Cas going all "Badass Angel" it's a goddamn miracle I didn't make Sammy drive and jump Cas in the backseat of the Impala. Hell, it's a goddamn fucking miracle that I just didn't come in pants right then and there…
Castiel swallowed, eyes widening slightly. That was… new. Certainly there had been images of them in Dean's baby before. Dozens of them and all of them… pleasant, but never had there been one like that. Never had there been one with Sam driving, plaintively begging the pair in the backseat to stop – a plea that angel and hunter most certainly ignored.
"… you still with me?"
Castiel snapped his attention back to his vessel and turned to face the younger Winchester who had collapsed his tall frame onto one of the kitchen chairs and was sipping at the cold beer held in one of his large hands. "My apologies. I was distracted. What were you saying?"
Sam shook his head ever so slightly, "No, it's cool. I was just asking if you were going to stick around, maybe grab some burgers down at the diner later, but if you've angel business to take care of…"
Castiel shook his head once. "I am free to stay and…" he trailed off, freezing with his hand outstretched over the chair opposite Sam as the elder Winchester's voice ripped through him, begging and pleading with raw desperation.
Goddamn it, Cas, why do you do this to me? Dean's voice groaned. I wish you were here.
It took every ounce of the angel's will not to snap his head in the direction of the bathroom.
"…Cas?"
"My apologies again, Sam. It appears that there is a matter that I must… take care of," the angel decided, retracting his outstretched hand. The smile that Sam flashed him was slightly confused but understanding. The younger Winchester was used to Cas coming and going without any sense or warning.
"Fine man, whatever," Sam excused with a wave of his hand. "Thanks for saving our asses."
"I am sure you would have managed the situation satisfactorily," Castiel murmured as he disappeared.
He had briefly considered appearing directly in the bathroom but after a moment's thought decided that it would probably be best to give the hunter some sort of warning that he was no longer alone. Instead, he reappeared directly outside of the bathroom door, thankfully out of Sam's line of sight. Dean had never, in all the time he had known the brothers, voiced any of his unknown prayers out loud or made any allusion to them. The angel had a nagging sense that his human would prefer to keep such things from his younger sibling's knowledge.
Of course, Dean likely wished to keep them from the angel as well but that stone had already been cast.
Castiel opened the bathroom door and stepped inside.
Dean was in the shower, back to the door with his forehead pressed to the wall with one arm braced over his head. The other arm was… elsewhere. Castiel swallowed.
"Damn it, Samantha," Dean swore, "I'll be out in a minute, just…" the hunter trailed off as he turned, eyes widening and body freezing as he realized who was in the room with him. For a moment the two simply stared at each other. Judging by the projection of thoughts currently racing through Castiel's head Dean quite appreciates his tan coat, even though the majority of his projected prayers feature the both of them in varying states of nakedness. "Cas…" the rough, almost growl, of Dean's voice was filled with longing.
A breath that he didn't know he had been holding eased out of Castiel's lips as he deliberately shrugged the trench coat from his shoulders. Dean's eyes widened, his pupils growing until they all but eclipsed the beautiful green that surrounded them. It was a sight that made him burn. Seeing that look in person after seeing it only in his head for months nearly stopped his vessel's heart in his chest. Because, if Castiel was being honest with himself, even if Dean hadn't been unintentionally praying indecent things into the angel's head they would have wound up there anyway.
Castiel wanted Dean. He'd wanted him from the very beginning. He hadn't even known what want was and it still had consumed him.
"Um, Cas…" the hunter began, his tongue running over his lips, "what… what are you doing?"
Castiel regarded his human with scarce concealed amusement and tugged at his tie, "I should think that it is obvious, Dean," he replied calmly, cutting straight to the point as he slipped out of the suit jacket and laid it to rest on top of the coat. "You are the one who summoned me."
Dean stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open, as the angel continued to undress. He had toed out of his shoes, removed his socks, and slid his belt from around his waist by the time Dean gathered his wits enough to speak. "I… I what?"
Castiel paused, his fingers hovering over one of the buttons of the white dress shirt. "Did you not wish for me to be here? With you?" he asked, tipping his head to get a better look at Dean through the glass door of the shower. Once, in the beginning of their relationship, he had told Dean that all humans were works of art – beautiful, divine creations.
Dean Winchester wasn't just art. He was a masterpiece.
"Son of a bitch… you heard that?"
Castiel smiled and undid another button. "You were praying, Dean. Of course I heard you," he informed him quietly. "I've always heard you. You pray… very loudly." Behind the translucent glass the hunter blushed and started to turn away, a movement that Castiel stalled by nimbly undoing yet another button. He could feel Dean's eyes on him; feel them like a physical touch as they traced Castiel's lips and followed the line of his jaw down to his throat. From there his gaze swept downwards to the sliver of pale flesh the angel had revealed. Despite the fact that the shower was hot enough to shroud the bathroom in clouds of steam the man standing beneath its stream shivered.
"Praying, huh?" Dean whispered hoarsely. "Why didn't you say something?"
"I did not think you would want attention drawn to it." Castiel stepped up to the shower and laid one hand on the glass, fingers curved. If the glass had not been in his way he would have touched the hunter. He ached to touch him. He wanted to trail his fingertips across the naked man's chest and down across his hips. He wanted to trace the fall of water across Dean's skin with his lips; wanted to lick away the droplets beading along the flushed expanse of perpetually tanned skin. "And I did not find it unpleasant," he added more softly.
Dean inhaled sharply. "I'm not forcing…" He swallowed and settled for asking, "You want to be here?"
"Yes."
"Then get in the fucking shower."
Castiel didn't need to be told twice. He opened the door and stepped inside, hot water splashing pleasantly onto his skin as he all but fell into the other man's arms. The hunter dipped his head to close the few inches difference in their height and cradled Castiel's face between callused hands and asked, unspoken, with his lips gently moving against the angel's if this really was okay.
Castiel felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest. So bright… Dean was always so very bright, always making it about everyone else and not himself. Castiel knew – he knew – how much the hunter wanted what he was offering. He could think of dozen similar scenarios that Dean had managed to project into the angel's head in just the past week. Yet here he was asking again, giving the angel one last chance.
One last chance. One last chance to get out of the shower and fly away, to pretend that this had never happened. One last chance for the Angel of the Lord.
The Angel of the Lord moaned.
Dean growled low in his throat and shoved the angel up against the glass of the shower wall, trapping him there with his hips. "Feel that?" he murmured as he ground against Castiel, rubbing his erection up and down the aching length that had presented itself in the angel's pants. Castiel whimpered as the movement pushed and pulled at the damp fabric separating them. "You did that to me. Just you. Always you." Dean dropped his head, letting his lips hover against Castiel's as he ran his hands across his shoulders and down the firm planes of his chest to grasp at the edges of the half unbuttoned shirt. "You're still wearing too many clothes, Cas. Too. Damn. Many."
The unmistakable sound of buttons bouncing and pinging off of tile and glass was lost to Castiel's ears as Dean captured the angel's mouth with his own. He nipped at the angel's lips, prodding them with his tongue until Castiel opened them with a small whimper. "That's it baby," Dean groaned, making him tremble, "let me in."
Castiel found his fingers trailing up the hunter's muscled form, tracing through the rivulets of warm water as he kissed him back in a flurry of teeth and tongue that left them both breathless and panting into the other's mouth. "Still too many clothes," the hunter muttered, pulling back enough to slip his thumbs suggestively beneath the waistband of Castiel's wet slacks. The angel slowly unknotted his fingers from the short spikes of Dean's hair and pulled them down the hunter's chest. Dean hummed in pleasure and tipped his head back, fingers curling into fists. Castiel could actually feel his eyes go, feel the pupils flare in pleasure at the sight the hunter presented to him. Dean was so beautiful. Inside and out. "Cas…"
With shaking hands Castiel undid the button and pulled down the zipper, letting the other man peel the slacks and boxer briefs from his body. His erection sprang free and the sensation of it hitting the warm, wet air made him shiver. A drop of pre-come quivered on the tip.
Dean groaned and sank to his knees before him. "Jesus fucking Christ," he whispered reverently, slowly running his hands up and down Castiel's legs. "You're so beautiful. So damn beautiful." He leaned forward and wrapped his hand around Castiel, drawing his tongue up the angel's cock to circle the head lightly, pressing at the slit.
"Dean!" the hunter's name fell from his lips in a hoarse cry as his hips bucked. Dean groaned again.
"So long," he murmured, stroking the angel as he spoke. "I've wanted to do this for so fucking long."
The back of Castiel's head hit the glass as Dean took him in his mouth, slowly pressing forward until Cas could feel his tip nudging at the back of the other man's throat. Dean held the position for a moment and then slowly eased back, hand following to stroke in the emptiness left by his mouth. "Dean," the angel whimpered, "Dean…" He lost all ability to speak as the hunter's cheeks hollowed, sucking him back in.
Every little piece of him tingled. He was on fire, wound and wound, every muscle in his body trying to tense and relax all in the same moment as he thrust shallowly into the hunter's mouth, fingers gripping the man's head so tightly that he was probably leaving bruises
He didn't care.
If this was sin no wonder men and angels Fell.
His cock came out of Dean's mouth with a small pop and Castiel barely had time to whimper in protest, hips jutting frantically forward in search of friction, before Dean was at his mouth again. He could taste himself in Dean's mouth: musk and salt and desire. "Oh, you're not going to end that easy… not now. The things you do to me… the things I want to do to you…God, the list is endless."
"You… do… pray… vividly," Cas managed to gasp out, clutching the other man to him as he wrapped his teeth around the tendon on the side of the angel's neck, a position that allowed him to nuzzle the hunter's hair. Even after a partial shower he still smelled of the hunt. The scents of salt and dust and blood overlaid what the angel liked to think of as Dean's natural scent – metal and earth and sun warmed leather. Castiel hummed with pleasure, feeling the vibrations of a noise that could only be called a possessive growl tremble along Dean's teeth.
Dean flashed him a smile, finally releasing him. The angel didn't have to look to know that the human – his human – had marked him; marked him in a place that everyone would see. The idea of people seeing Dean's mark on him made him flush with pleasure. "I've suddenly gained a whole new appreciation for prayer." He gave the angel a very dirty look and narrowed his eyes slightly in concentration.
"Oh," Castiel cried, back bowing and head going back, eyes tearing away from the spring green of Dean's eyes as the image hit his brain. "Yes," he begged, the words tumbling from his mouth without prompting. "Please. That. Now."
"Get out," Dean ordered, his rough voice dropping half an octave as he spun the angel around and herded him from the shower. Castiel whimpered and stumbled, going to his knees on the plush expanse of the bath rug covering the tile floor. Dean knelt behind him and pulled him close, thrusting the length of his erection into the muscled curve of the angel's ass as he yanked Castiel's head around to kiss him again. Hard. "I'm going to make you scream," he whispered in the angel's ear. "I'm going to take you so high that you won't be able to fucking breathe…"
"Yes," Castiel panted. "Yes."
Dean pushed him down onto his back, nudging his legs apart and moving so that he knelt between them. "Feel me. Touch me," he ordered, taking the angel's hand and guiding it to where his cock jutted out from his body, throbbing for attention and glistening with the sheen of pre-come. Both men groaned as Castiel wrapped his fingers around Dean. "Jesus fucking Christ," he rumbled, causing the angel to shiver as the grating voice washed over him. "Sorry," the hunter gasped quickly, clearly mistaking Castiel's reaction.
Castiel tightened his grip and pumped his hand up and down the length of Dean's shaft, unable to stifle a smile as another flurry of curses fell from the hunter's lips. "Don't. I find that I…" he paused, casting about, willing his brain to work long enough to supply him with the word he was looking for.
"You like it when I talk dirty?" Dean exhaled, finishing for him. "When I blaspheme?" Castiel nodded. Yes. That was it. To hear and see Dean fall apart and break the rules that Castiel had let rule him for the length of his existence; to know that it was him causing it. Yes, he liked it. "So hot, Cas, so fucking hot…" He shut his eyes and grasped Castiel's hand with his own, forcing him to stop. "Stop," he ground out, "Stop or I won't last."
An angered growl rumbled out of Castiel's chest. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want Dean to… last. He wanted to watch his hunter, watch him and see him shatter. He had to know if the reality lived up to the gorgeous images in his head. Dean chuckled softly, "All in good time," he murmured as he leaned over the angel's body to kiss him, pressing them together. Both men hissed as their cocks ground up against each other. So sweet and so, so good. Blessed relief at gaining some friction warred with the mounting pressure that the friction created. "Lube," Dean gasped, "Now."
It took a few seconds of Castiel staring at Dean's face through lust blown eyes to realize what the hunter was asking for, but a moment after the realization struck he was placing a bottle of lube in the human's outstretched hand.
Castiel trembled, forcing himself to watch as Dean lubed up his fingers. The first finger was an intrusion and the angel's body instinctively tensed against the invasion. "Just relax," Dean soothed, slowly easing in up to his knuckle and pausing to give the angel time to adjust. "I'm right here. Look at me, Cas. I want you looking at me. Let me see those beautiful eyes. That's right. Good, baby, good..." Dean began to slowly move his finger in and out in a steady, insistent rhythm. A small wail of pleasure fell from the angel's lips as a second fingered joined the first, scissoring him more and more open. "That's right, baby, give it to me, let me hear you…" Dean leaned forward to trail kisses up the angel's chest, nibbling at the puckered nobs of his nipples. "Almost there; almost ready for me," the hunter purred against his lips as he added a third finger, angling his fingers to stroke leisurely at the angel's inside. "There we go," Dean rumbled in approval as a long keen tore itself from the angel's mouth, hips jerking wildly as the hunter found some sort of magical spot inside of him. "You ready for me? God, baby, please be ready for me…"
Castiel nodded violently, unable to string together enough cohered noises to form words.
Dean hissed between clenched teeth as he spread copious amounts of lube up and down his shaft and lined himself up with the angel's open, flushed pink hole.
"Son of a bitch," Dean swore, all of the air falling from his lungs in a long whoosh as he pushed his way in. "So hot, Cas. You're so hot and tight and oh my fucking god…" Dean dropped forward, supporting himself on his hands, his entire body shaking with the effort he was exerting to hold still and let Castiel's body adjust to the length of him. "Not going to last long," he growled, eyes fluttering shut as Castiel rocked experimentally, "God, you're so perfect…"
Dean began to move in time to Castiel's rocking thrusts, slowly sliding himself in and out of his slick hole. "Come on baby," the hunter urged as he grasped the angel's hips and held him down, tempo and movement changing, "I want to watch you shatter…"
"Dean? Dean are you okay? I heard…" Sam's voice came to a strangled halt. Through the fringe of his lashes and blur of desire covering his eyes Castiel caught an upside down glimpse of the younger Winchester standing in a half opened door, his face a flurry of several strangled emotions. For just a moment he felt a flash of embarrassment and he made half an attempt to get up, but then Dean - who hadn't stopped moving - found that spot again. Castiel's eyes rolled back in his head, inhuman, animalistic noises clawing their way from his throat as he grabbed at the other man's flesh. He had to hold onto something, had to hold onto Dean. He had to know that this was real, had to keep himself anchored to this wondrous human.
Dimly, through the pleasure bursting in front of his eyes and across the surface of his skin, he was aware of Dean growling "Go."
Sam's boots disappeared rapidly from Castiel's hooded gaze and the door slammed shut behind him.
"Dean? I… I…" there was a pressure building. It felt like his entire body was going to explode beneath the force of the hunter's unrelenting plunge into his body.
"C'mon, baby…" Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel's cock, fingers still slick with half-dried lube. "Let go…"
Two strokes from those callused fingers and suddenly everything went white at once: a bright haze covering his eyes, his entire body stiffening and clenching as he arched into Dean's hand, the hunter's name falling from his lips in a strangled shout.
"Fuck, Cas… Just. Fuck," Dean cried, stiffening. The sensation of the heat of his seed filling Castiel made the angel cry out again, clutching the hunter to him as he collapsed across the angel's chest.
They lay on the bathroom floor clutching each other in a silence only broken by the pounding of the shower – no doubt cold by now – and the ragged gasping of their own breathing.
"Cas? Cas?" The angel struggled to open his eyes, to look up and focus at the face hovering inches above his own. "You okay?" Dean questioned, concern heavy on his visage. "Was that all right?" he added anxiously.
"It was perfect," Castiel whispered, raising his head to plant a soft kiss on his human's kiss swollen lips, purring a little as he felt the hunter run his fingers through his hair. "I wish to do it again."
Dean laughed softly as he eased his softening cock from Castiel's body. The angel whined in protest, disliking the suddenly emptiness that consumed him. "God, Cas, give me a few minutes," the hunter chuckled, collapsing on the floor beside him and pulling the angel up to his side, wrapping him a tender, possessive embrace. "I'm still just human."
"Yes," Castiel agreed softly. He turned to plant a soft kiss on the muscled curve of Dean's shoulder, unable to stop the rumble of pleasure the purred through him as he smelled himself on the hunter's skin. Burning, burning so bright. He couldn't have missed the human if he'd tried- so perfect and pure in the midst of all Hell's carnage. "My human."