"I'm not going to art." Dean blurted.

Seeming to get the picture, Cas nodded briefly. He undid the buttons of his over shirt, eyes bedroom, making Dean feel a rush of heat. His shoes were kicked off, as were Dean's. Reaching out, Dean gathered him in his arms, pushing his hands under the button-down and pulling him in by the soft material of his cotton t-shirt beneath. Eager hands grabbed his waist on both sides, their grip feverish as they feasted on the curves there. Hot breath met. Dean twisted his fingers in Castiel's neat dark curls and wrapped his other arm around his body possessively.

This kiss was one of ferocity. Their lips clashed and snatched, smacking together noisily without any thought. Taste filled their minds. Each touch of their mouths made Dean shudder and shiver, writhing with each stake of fever to his heart, and he thought he would crumple under it. He was acutely aware of the warmth bleeding through Cas's shirt as he pushed as much of his body as he could against him. The arousal from him was tumultuous. He felt his eager hips press against his own, grinding against him with unleashed lust. Their touch spread and consumed every bit of body it could find, begging for flesh, tearing at cloth as if it were an infuriating obstacle.

Grabbing him, Dean tangled Castiel in his legs and they fell together onto his bed. The hands on the small of Dean's back pulled him closer with an iron grip, as if he may try and escape. His back arched in a seductive way that had Dean breathing raggedly onto his lips. The body beneath his hands responded to every touch. In the dim light of the room Dean's hair glowed pale brown, his freckled face scarlet with blush. It seemed as their lips grasped and gasped the blood in their faces was rushing south for the winter. Teenage lust wrapped them up in needs way too passionate to satisfy.

Both boys grab and rub until their energy is sapped entirely. Hours have passed like this. Once it all stopped there was nothing left. Cas gripped Dean's shirtfront, burying his face in his neck, and Dean rested his tired body. They both drifted in and out of sleep – both lulled by the constant, comforting motion of Dean's strong hands traveling over Cas's back.

"I have a night class," Cas spoke into Dean's collar, muffled but audible.

"Probably," came Dean's charmingly snarky reply.

A groan from Cas. He pushed his open palms over Dean's chest, tentatively, and his lips parted. "I never want to move again." A chuckle vibrated through the chest he was touching, and it made him press his cheek to it, eyes sliding shut.

"You have to go to class."

"You didn't."

"Yeah but I'm a bad student."

"You are not."

Dean sat up, and it was obvious Cas hated every moment of them slipping apart. "Look, I don't want to rush anything," he said gently. "Let's take it easy, ok? This is a new thing. It might not go so well if we treat it like glass. It won't break if you keep doing what you do, all right?" He smiled and its infectious nature brought it to Cas's lips as well. Using the arm he wasn't propped upon, Dean reached out and cupped Cas's scruffy face in his hand, bringing him in for another kiss. This one was different. More like last night's, only surer, less hesitant. It felt like rough adoration, but it was also a wish for more time together.

Dean's growling stomach roared its ugly head, and Cas gaped. "When was the last time you ate?" He demanded, looking at the clock. It glowed 5pm.

"Yesterday," Dean blurted. Getting a disapproving glare made him flinch.

"We are going to dinner right now. We have time before I have to go." Cas climbed out of the bed and grabbed up his sneakers. "Come on, right now."

Dean made a snort of protest. "Yeah, sure, like you can get me-"

Lips suddenly appeared hovering right before his own. "Get up," Cas whispered. "And I will let you touch my ass."

Dean was up. He dressed and combed his hair and Cas did the same. But only when he tied on his boots did Cas draw up to him and press his chest to Dean's. "Brief," he snapped. With vigor, Dean reached around and cupped a cheek swathed in denim, fever pushing at his groin.

"I touched the butt," he whispered, and they both dissolved into idiotic laughter, like goats guffawing. They left their room laughing and shove each other in the hall, only to reach out and scramble back together again, breaking through the front doors of the lobby and out into the chill of the evening.

I am enjoying this way too much