Sunday morning
They'd already established Dean was not a morning person and there was not much he was willing to be conscious for at 6:30 in the morning. But the sight, the sound, the feel of Castiel becoming undone at the slightest flick of Dean's tongue made being awake before the sun was up worth it. Castiel gasped and ran the heel of a foot along Dean's back, hands shaking for lack of anything better to do. What he wanted was to have three fingers inside Dean, finger fucking him and stretching him so Castiel can bury his cock inside the Viking. However, the butt plug he'd popped into Dean's ass twenty minutes earlier would have to do. What he wanted was his hand cupping Dean's jawline while trading kisses with shared breaths as they orgasm together. However, that would just have to wait for the time being. What he wanted was to fist his hands in Dean's braids.
But what Castiel got was something so much more. It felt like he was being stripped down on a cellular level and being remade by the bronze god laid out between his legs, lips, teeth, and tongue nuzzling his ass. Castiel settled by placing a hand on top of Dean's head and tugging the braids ever so slightly.
"Dean," Castiel growled. The single word and the way in which it was said was as much an order as a supplication. Dean made his way upward with Castiel's cock sliding against his shoulder, then over an erect nipple, then along his abdomen, the velvety heat like a brand against Dean's skin. Castiel lost patience and with another growl, he snaked an arm around Dean's waist and flipped them, so Dean was now flat on his back. The jolt moved the butt plug and Dean groaned.
Castiel lightly bit Dean's collarbone and ever so slowly turned the butt plug, making Dean groan and writhe on the bed.
"That's not a fucking dial on a safe, Cas," Dean gasped, although regardless of the ridiculous picture that just brought to mind, it felt fucking fantastic.
Castiel moved back and grabbed two condoms on the nightstand, tossing one to Dean. "Less mess, and we can go back to sleep for another hour after."
Both men made quick work of putting a condom on and Castiel turned the plug again before pulling it out slowly. The sensation left Dean panting. "Elskan, you're killing me."
Castiel tossed the plug onto the bed and slid some lube onto his cock. He offered the tube to Dean who followed suit. Castiel leaned over Dean who slid a leg up Castiel's side. Both men adjusted just so and groaned when Castiel finally entered Dean. They were already walking a tightrope of desire and it wasn't long before they were climaxing together, Dean fisting his cock to a release and Castiel bottoming out in Dean with one final thrust. Castiel bowed his head and nuzzled Dean's neck, tasting the saltiness of sweat. Dean turned his head and kissed Castiel, sliding his tongue along Castiel's lips to which Castiel responded by parting his mouth.
His right arm began trembling. Holding himself up over Dean was becoming too much for his injured arm and shoulder. With a sigh of regret, he moved off Dean, carefully stripped off the condom and dropped it into the basket at the side of the bed. He then unceremoniously climbed over Dean to "his" side of the bed. Dean disposed of his condom and then scooted closer to Castiel, spooning against him and sighed when Castiel shifted to "big spoon" him, draping his injured arm along Dean's side.
Say the words, Dean.
Yeah, because post-coital declarations of love are so believable.
I'm not hearing a denial, Dean.
Shut up, Frejya.
"You said something about getting another hour's worth of sleep, elskan?" Dean muttered, drifting off already.
Castiel made some unintelligible sound as he groped blindly for the blanket. When he found an edge, he drew it up over himself and Dean, and a few minutes later, both men were sound asleep.
Dean was leaning against a post outside the smithy, waiting for the Queen's Progress to arrive. The gift he was going to present to the queen was a bit of a gamble, given how the previous pointy-ended gift had been intercepted and interpreted. As the herald, drummers, and riders came closer, Dean inhaled deeply and stepped onto the road.
"Your Majesty, how wonderful to see you," Dean said as he bowed.
"Bastian Smith," Ruby answered, nodding her head.
"If I may, Your Majesty, I have a special gift for you," Dean said, pulling a gray muslin bag from the folds of his great kilt. "But I would like to present it to Lord Michael, so that he might inspect it first."
Lucien shifted on Navarre and sneered while Gabriel wisely neither laughed nor said anything. Dean handed the small cloth bag to Michael, who took it, opened it and pulled out a penannular brooch.
"A finely crafted piece, smith," Michael remarked. "Your Majesty, this is a fine addition to your collection. With summer behind us, this will hold your cloak closed beautifully."
The queen extended a hand and Michael handed her the cloak pin. It was a thin rod of iron, finely twisted and then bent in a U. One end was curled in on itself, the other was a knob of metal. And attached to it was a long prong that came to a somewhat dull point.
"It's beautiful, Bastian. Thank you," the queen handed the pin back to Michael who put it back into the muslin bag before tucking it into his doublet. The queen nudged her horse and the progress continued.
Dean went back into the smithy and he and Ash sold several chainmail roses, a couple kid coifs, and took orders for a chef's knife, two Bowie knives, and a custom cloak pin. Dean then changed into his demo clothes and set up behind the shop for the first demo of the day.
"Do not bench me, Rafa," Castiel grumbled. He leaned against a table and his arms were folded across his chest. Michael and Rafael shared a look. "I'm fine!"
Rafael shrugged with a "do what you want" look and Michael closed his eyes as he shook his head. "You're an adult. You want to risk your recovery to have a couple jousts on closing weekend, I'm not going to stop you. Just remember, in October we start training for the new movie."
"That's a month away," Castiel said dismissively with a wave of his hand. He pushed off the table and headed out to find Anna, who would help him into his hauberk and the rest of his armor.
"If Claire ends up being half as stubborn as your brother, watching him have to deal with that will make all this worth it," Rafael said with a chuckle. He headed to the infirmary tent to make sure they had ice on hand. He figured Castiel would need it.
Castiel rolled his shoulders and adjusted the hauberk, settling the heavy mail on his body. A bandana was tied around his head, the padded coif was on top of the bandana, and covering all that was the chainmail coif. He held the breastplate against him while Anna buckled the front and back pieces together. His legs were already buckled into armor and once the chest and back pieces were secured, the vambraces and rerebraces were slipped onto his arms and forearms, the gorget was wrapped around his neck, and he eased his hands into the gauntlets. Anna hooked the lance rest just under Castiel's right arm, and Castiel clanked over to where Ladyhawke was waiting. He climbed into the saddle, grabbed the helm Anna was holding out to him and set it on his head before cantering out onto the lists.
As he started galloping around the tourney field, Alfie and Gabriel joined him. The crowd started cheering and whistling. Duma and Claire watched from the safety of the sidelines, bottles of water in hand. When Castiel, Alfie, and Gabriel came to the audience side of the lists, they drew up on the reins and all three horses reared up and pawed the air. The cheering intensified. Castiel and Alfie galloped to get into position while Gabriel guided Isabeau off the field. Balthazar began his spiel while Oren and Efram dashed out to hand their knights the lances.
"Only a two-pass joust, Castiel," Oren said at the handoff. Castiel scowled at feeling babied but he saluted in acknowledgement.
Balthazar waved the riders to their positions. Castiel inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, letting the world melt away except for what was right in front of him. The flag dipped, and the horses were off. Ladyhawke and Falcor shot along the wooden divider toward each other. The lances swiveled to a horizontal position and were couched on the lance rest. The riders hunched and braced for impact.
The crowd cheered at the crashing hit. Castiel and Alfie turned their horses and Oren gave Castiel the prop lance. The two riders lined up in position and were down the lists quickly. Lances once again swung down and were couched, and Castiel hit Alfie square on his armored chest. Alfie leaned back and bounced off Falcor into the dirt. Castiel dropped the shattered lance and he drew his sword on Alfie.
"Your Majesty, this knight's life is in your hands!" Castiel called out. The crowd cheered.
Ruby stood up from her throne and raised her hands for quiet. "Good gentles of the realm, what say you all? Shall we spare this fledgling knight or end his career before it begins? Shall we spare him?"
Guests cheered and clapped loudly. Alfie looked around with a scared look on his face while Castiel loomed over him on Ladyhawke and Efram held Falcor's reins.
"And who thinks we should not be merciful today?" the queen called out.
There was cheering and whistling - more than there should have been for a family-friendly environment - but it was clear the audience wanted mercy. At least this time.
"Sir Samandriel," the queen announced, "your life is spared, we offer you mercy."
Alfie bowed deeply to Ruby. "Your Majesty, I am your servant."
Ruby sat back down and Alfie and Castiel left the lists for the next pairing - Michael and Lucien - to do their joust. After that bout, everyone but Castiel were set to enter the lists for the melee. Well, at least his shoulder hadn't gone numb this time. Castiel dismounted and headed for the medical tent to ice his shoulder. Oren led Isabeau to the paddock. Claire continued with her squiring duties with Duma.
Sunday turned out to be a busy day for the vendors and actors, and it was a big family day. Monday would be just as busy, but fewer families. Dean and Ash filled over a dozen orders for a variety of knives, they sold out the allotted number of chainmail roses for the day, and Viking wire knit jewelry was also quite popular. Dean made sure to make copious notes, already planning stock for next year's faire.
In addition to jousting against Alfie twice, Castiel went up against Gabriel once. The matches were always only two passes, he didn't participate in any of the melees, and he made sure to ice his shoulder afterward. He beamed like the proud poppa he was as he watched Claire in her role as squire, and between bouts, he strolled through the faire with his daughter. She always insisted on wearing the blue doublet and skirt with the chainmail coif, and he was happy to direct a few curious guests to Bastian the Smith for kiddie coifs of their own.
The day wore on, and as the last guests were heading for the gates at 7PM, the vendors and actors made their way to their tents and camps. Everyone was exhausted and the vibe was very different from that first Friday bonfire. Anael had taken Claire to the Horde's camp at 5PM for dinner and a shower, the poor girl was snoring in her cot by 7PM.
Castiel, Dean, Michael, Gabriel, Balthazar, Meg, Charlie, Ash, and several other Horde members and faire actors commandeered a table in the corner of the cafeteria tent. Dinner plates, and cups littered the table. Several people had their laptops out. They spoke softly, writing things down as needed between bites of chili and cornbread and swallows of a variety of alcoholic and nonalcoholic drinks. After two hours the group began to break up. Dishes were brought to the basins, bottles and other rubbish were tossed into bins, and laptops were snapped closed. Dean rubbed his eyes as he stood. He lightly caressed the back of Castiel's hand with a finger and the two men said their good nights along with everyone else.
Dean unlocked his RV and climbed in with Castiel following close behind. The two men stripped down to their underwear and crawled into bed together. Castiel spooned Dean, kissing the nape of his neck after Dean reached over and shut the light, and minutes later the two exhausted men were asleep.
