Yoz. So, I never really planned for this to be a multi-chapter, but after a loverly review from Nanoks (hope I spelled your name right!), I just had to keep writing. Oo! Oo! Idea just popped! Read for more to find out!
Title: Very Unsatisfactory Events Summary:
Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel
Pairing: Dean W./Castiel
Rating: M (NC-17) for the following: adultery; adult situations; language.
Castiel popped into the motel room, staggered slightly and caught himself on the wall. It was getting to be the time that he was supposed to meet Sam. At times, he would meet him in the motel room, others in the warehouse. The younger Winchester was proving to be quite a trial, not to mention a setback. On Thursday, Castiel had first given (which is a questionable phrase, but...) Sam his blood to drink, and now it was beginning to happen on a daily basis. Each blood-drinking session lasted only about three minutes, including the activity following it. Sam had either become 1) corrupted by the angel blood, 2) attracted to Castiel or, 3) completely nuts. There was nothing new about the sexual activity; Sam finished drinking, would jerk off Cas and himself, then let the not-so-completely-virgin angel go. Truth be told, it was getting tiresome. But, back in futuretense, Castiel let his eyes roam around the room for Dean or Sam. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom, but he was unaware of which brother was in there.
Castiel sat down on the bed, half-listening to the springs creak. He rolled the left sleeve of his trench coat, suit jacket, and dress shirt up to reveal the three scars from his forced blood-letting. One was more prominent and vivid than the others, plastered obviously on the back of his wrist. The other two lay on his forearm, in random areas. The shower suddenly stopped running. Dean strolled out of the bathroom, towel draped loosely around his waist, whistling some mullet-head-rock tune.
"Jesus!" Dean threw himself against the wall, hand barely holding the towel in place at the sudden realization of Castiel sitting on the bed. Cas sighed and stated, "Dean, I've asked you not to use my brother's name in context."
"Yeah, yeah, OK Judas-"
"He was the betrayer-"
"I don't fucking care, Cas!"
Dean grabbed a handful of clothes and stomped back into the bathrom, grumbling under his breath something about "personal space" and "morons". He emerged a minute later, fully dressed and still grumbling. Centering himself in front of Castiel, Dean threw his hands up and stated, "OK, dude. What's up?"
"... Up, Dean?"
"How are you."
"Oh. Uhm, fine, I suppose."
"Fine, you suppose."
"Yes. That is a sufficient answer, is it not?"
Dean groaned and turned away from Cas, again grumbling. He turned back, hands resting on top of his head and pulling his shirt hem up, revealing his toned hips. "Cas, try relaxing for once."
Cas tilted his head to one side, looking up at Dean with inquisitive blue eyes. "I'm... unaware of how to proceed with that, Dean."
"Just, for the love of God, take off your trench coat and I'll help you from there."
Unsure, Cas stood and began pulling off the camel-colored trench and held it in front of him, as if he was shielding himself from Dean. The hunter grabbed the trench coat from the angel's grasp and hurled it onto the floor before stepping closer to Cas and reaching up to undo his tie. Instinctively, Castiel flinched away. Dean sighed.
"Dude, I'm not gonna hurt you."
It took a little bit of coaxing and a lot of forcing to get Castiel to let Dean undo the blue tie. The hunter stepped a bit closer, nearly toe-to-toe with Cas. He was aware of how the angel smelled like... vanilla? He smelled like the froo-froo shampoo that Sam used. Hesitantly, Dean leant in and awkwardly sniffed at Castiel's hair.
"Dean?"
"Dude... you smell like vanilla..."
Castiel turned his head, perhaps a bit too quick, to face Dean. His lips collided against Dean's ear and cheekbone, breath stirring into the tawny skin of the hunter and nose tickling against the stubble peppering Dean's jaw and cheeks. Dean froze, the bridge of his nose half-buried in Castiel's hair, his lips so close to the angel's own. He swallowed, trying to block out the oh-so-weird dreams he'd been having about Cas and himself as of late.
"Dean?" Castiel repeated, his breath tickling the whiskers near Dean's mouth. The hunter swallowed uncomfortably before speaking, "Uh, Cas. Would you mind if I did something impulsive?"
There was a hesitation in Castiel's reply, but the answer was still yes. So, to Hell with it, thought Dean. He'd be there sometime soon.
The angle was awkward, but Dean somehow managed to position his lips directly over Castiel's and collide the two pairs in a hesitant, but pleasant kiss. The two stayed in that pose for under ten seconds, and then Dean remembered that, clenched in his fist, looped around Cas' neck, was Jimmy Novak's tie. He threaded his fingers through the knot and gently pulled Castiel closer, hooking his other arm around the angel's waist. Castiel moaned at the touch and moved a step forward, causing the two to be flush against eachother. The angel brought both hands up to catch Dean's neck and hair while the hunter began to insistently poke his tongue at the loosely-closed crevice between Cas' lips.
The crevice parted, allowing Dean to slide his tongue into Castiel's mouth, exploring every nook and cranny. Cas' hands fisted in Dean's hair as he slowly began fucking Dean's tongue in between his lips, moaning along with the hunter in unison. A growing need settled in the nether-region of Dean, and he not-so-gently ripped the suit jacket off of Cas, followed by a hasty unbuttoning of the buttons on the dress shirt. He began goading Castiel backwards, while withdrawing his tongue from the angel's mouth and gently biting at the now-puffed lips, tearing a whimper from his angel.
It was not until Castiel was falling backwards onto the bed with Dean on top of him did the hunter release his instict for domination. He grabbed the angel's long-fingered hands and pinned them above Castiel's head, legs bent with his body hovering above Cas'. In complete arousal, Dean raised his mouth to the thumping drum in front of the angel's ear. He sucked on the temple, elliciting a sin-filled moan from the angel.
"Oh, God, Dean." The whispered moan was just enough to make Dean's dick quiver with anticipation, with longing. The hunter hastily pulled his shirt off, letting it drop onto the floor besides Castiel's forgotten clothing. He groaned as he noticed a rock-hard erection sticking into his own. Just for some good moaning, he lustfully thrust his hips at Castiel's own, pulling an arched back and loud, aroused whimpers from the angel. For good measure, he repeated the manuever and Castiel was cumming. An obvious wet stain appeared on the outside of Castiel's dress pants, and the angel collapsed back, heaving breaths falling out of reddened lips. Dean hastily rubbed his erection with a sweaty palm through the denim of his jeans, slightly peeved that this activity was over before he could even get inside Cas.
Once he'd followed Castiel's example, Dean rolled off of the angel, picking up Cas' left arm and gently kissing the pulse. Suddenly, his eyes caught ahold of the thin white scars. He withdrew, eyes fixated on the lines.
"Cas..."
The angel followed his line of vision and yelped, sitting upright and bolting off of the bed.
"Dean, I can explain those-"
"You'd better damn well be able to, Castiel," Dean growled, rising in return and advancing on the panicked angel. But before he was able to grab Cas, there was a fluttering of wings and he was gone, leaving behind the suit jacket, dress shirt, tie, and trench coat.
"IDIOT!" Dean roared.
Hehehe, who do you think will claim Cas' ass-cherry first?