Chapter warning- Sex, sex, and hey, even more sex. You don't like or wanna read about sex, then don't read this, short bus. No beta. Read at your own risk
Sex was exhausting.
Correction.
Sex with Castiel was exhausting. There was no other way to put it, at least in Dean's mind. It just wasn't the pure physical aspect of it, though Dean considered Castiel's limitless sex drive a severely unfair advantage against his mortal stamina. A guy could only come so much in a given time period or so Dean had thought. Castiel not only came with endless stamina but shameless use of healing powers as well Dean found out soon enough.
Missionary.
Dean would have never thought he could have hated a word or more accurately, a position more. He was never allowed any other, Castiel only ever wanting to see the hunter on his back with his god above him, in him. Dean could deal with a lot but the new level of staring that came with the sex was near soul crushing. Even as he thrust into him, Castiel's gaze never wavered, his eyes taking in everything Dean was offering and even all that he wasn't.
Dean wasn't sure if it was the intensity of the look or the continuity of it or the stifling combination of both. Plundering his fill, Castiel stared down at him as if Dean was the most precious thing in the universe to him, like all the secrets of the beyond were written into the hunter's skin just waiting to be deciphered if only he looked long enough. Saying it was disconcerting would be a severe understatement. Dean was to the point that he would happily given up his car music rights or hell even, pie to be on his hands and knees with his ass up in the air just once.
"Stop it.", Dean rasped, turning his head. It didn't help. He could still feel Castiel's crazy too blue eyes staring holes into the side of his head. Dean risked a look to find twin blue suns trapped in flesh narrowed and accompanied with a slight frown. It prompted the hunter to remember his manners and who he was talking to. "Please.", Dean added belatedly, because for whatever reason, Castiel seemed to really value politeness, at least from other people.
"Why? You are mine to do with what I will.", Castiel said solemnly. That was another thing that Dean hated. He would become completely unraveled under Castiel's administrations to be left a mess of cooling body fluids and oversensitivity but no matter what, Castiel would not return the favor, the god cool as a damn cucumber no matter what they were doing or for how long. Their current position was one of Dean being fucking slowly but surely into one of the softest mattresses he had ever lain in. And there in lied another problem.
Castiel took his time in all things Dean. Where and when the hunter would like it fast and rough, Castiel lingered and savored, claiming Dean's body sometimes inch by inch until the human wanted to scream in frustration and impatience. Sometimes he did. Castiel's strokes were a prime example of this, each one firm but slow right up against his prostate, the pace enough to set Dean on edge but never over it, the hunter only cumming when Castiel deemed it time.
It was more often than Dean would have thought possible. His stomach would have been painted solid white by now if Castiel didn't keep licking the release off his skin before it even had time to cool or making Dean taste it off of his fingertips. He wasn't too sure how healthy it was for a man to orgasm that often in such a short time period, but Castiel seemed to live for the moment when Dean arched his back off of the bed in pleasure, wrecked and ruined time and time again as ecstasies were dragged out of him, sometimes literally kicking and screaming. Sometimes, Castiel would hold him still, blanketing him his body, to make Dean shudder and twist through his orgasm within the limited space provided in the cage of flesh. In those moments, Dean could feel Castiel's erection deep within him as his heated passage spasmed and constricted around the hardened flesh, attempting to milk release from the god but failing. Drained, Dean would lay back and pant out his frustration, all lax bone and plush muscle, fully aware of the hardness that remained lodged in him as greedy hands tenderly stroked his still heaving sides and a tongue made of wet heat and electricity licked the release off of the ripples in his abs. If it wasn't for all the damn staring, Dean might have minded it less.
"I know. Believe me, I know, but c'mon, give me break here. It's fucking creepy.", Dean panted, tilting his head back as he closed his eyes. It was his only real means of escape at the moment. Dean's eyes snapped back open when his arms were pulled upward above his head and pinned. The hunter grimaced as Castiel leaned in to lay out bodily on top of him, chest to chest, ruined lips brushing up against each other in dry rasps. It was made all the worse when Castiel touched their foreheads together so that the eye contact was avoidable as it was inescapable.
"What are you doing?", Dean whispered, fear creeping up his spine to flow into his veins almost like a sickness, a fever that set his skin alight with crimson glow.
"Taking what is rightfully mine. You are loved and beloved most above all else and you shall be treated as so.", Castiel told him, his tone brooking no further argument on the matter but when had a Winchester ever listened to a command without comment?
"It's too much. I need you to look away. Please. Just this once. Just for a little while.", Dean hated himself for it but he was begging now, could hear the note of pleading in his own voice, hated how weak it sounded.
"No. Never again.", Castiel promised like nails in coffin. "You deserve my love Dean. You are worthy of it. You are cherished. You are mine.". The new god kept his word and continued to watch even as the hunter broke from within, wet and raw, tears streaming from the corners of his bright green eyes. Castiel tasted those as well, catching the salt water on the tips of his fingers to moisten his chapped lips with Dean's distress.
Castiel would watch Dean break over and over again, the hunter sometimes even going so far as to try and fight against the god, bruising his hands and heels on marble that imitated flesh . No matter what was said or done, Castiel kept thrusting into Dean at his maddeningly slow pace until Dean was emptied out of all his energy, leaving the man exhausted and feeling like a hollowed shell of his former self. Then and only then, Castiel would come, filling Dean with his essence, making him come alive again in the process.
Dean loved and hated it, the feel of Castiel coming deep within him. It was like a live current being pressed up to his prostate and every other nerve endings in his body, fusing them together to strangle one last orgasm from his already overused, oversensitive, worked over flesh. It always amazed Dean that he wasn't coming blood at this point, honestly thinking that he didn't have any ammo left in his weapon. Dean continued to cry out weakly as he was flooded with this burn, marking him from the inside out, searing him soul deep.
He would continue to feel it long after Castiel left him, the god's release leaking out to drip down Dean's thighs, coating them with a golden sheen that scalded way beyond skin deep.
