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There was little noise and a smothering darkness when Castiel slid back into the dorm room. The lamp post lights outside were blocked by the shut blinds. And the hall light was shut out by the door. He kicked off his shoes and breathed exhausted air into the room he could not see. The dim light of the corridor had readied his eyes for the blackness revealed to him, but just barely. On his desk, his alarm clock flashed 9:30pm. He'd worked a six hour shift, half of it introductions and the other half training. There were only three of them. Two other guys were there too, pretty normal guys about his age with medium builds and half-beards and bright eyes. Wade and John. Brothers. They all worked together really well; they made a good team on the floor. He was looking forward to this job. But man, was he bushed. A yawn wrenched his jaw open as he emptied his pockets onto the table and unbuckled his jeans, sinking into his chair to untie his sneakers.
A rustle from Dean's bed drew his hopes up into his throat. "How did it go?" Came the sleepy query from the shadowy figure in the bed. Dean had been napping on and off, letting his body tell him what to do, figuring that if he appeased it that he'd recover more quickly. He'd actually gotten his homework done after Ricky left. After that, it had just been lots of lounging.
"Well." Cas replied in his raspy monotone. "I'm looking forward to working there. But it's a good walk." He tossed his socks into the laundry basket and rose, hands on his knees, to crack the blinds. "It's too dark in here." Florescent light poured through the narrow slits and lit up his profile. He peeled off his shirt, throwing it aside, and turned to Dean. The outline of his shaped chest and stomach glowed smooth and taunt; the dangle of his belt in his unzipped jeans gave a loose, rugged look to his bent form. Light snatched the tips of his ruffled raven locks, as well as the glowing blue of his eyes and the edge of his straight nose. It glanced off his curling lips. It hugged his throat. It clung to his slender arms.
The light dimly pushed at Dean's casually draped self as well, and his stance indicated he was soaking in every detail. "Come here." His voice was clear now, gentle but wanting. Castiel's heart thudded. He padded over to Dean in bare feet, the carpet thin but cool beneath him. When he reached the side of his bed he watched as Dean propped himself up on one arm. His eye were full of light, still like a pond and swimming with something different. "Lose the jeans." His Adams apple bobbed briefly, and the lust there was becoming more and more obvious. Cas's thumbs hooked inside his waistband, the tendons in his hands flexing as he pushed with ease, his belt clattering against the floor. His jeans were down around his ankles. Dean reached out with his free arm and pushed his palms against Cas's hips, and his waist, kneading his flesh. "God." He breathed. "This is way hotter than it was in my head."
Dean's hand was wandering over his switchboard, pressing all the right buttons. It sucked Castiel in hopelessly. His weariness took a back seat to want and the insatiable desire to please. Although he had already gotten off, and was pretty satisfied, Cas really loved seeing Dean so flustered over him. He wanted to do something for him. After all, he had promised, and it did make him feel hot enough to possibly get off again, doing this. His eyelids lowered halfway. He licked his lips and leaned into Dean's touch, pushing his own hands over his flat stomach. Not only that, but he had waited a long time to be able to do this with Dean. He was not wasting a single moment of being wanted by him. "Lay back." He said pointedly.
Dean obeyed. His hand slipped away as he put his head back against his pillow, knees falling apart just barely; he was hesitant, still trying to conceal his hard-on by drilled instinct. Cas memorized that Dean in his head. The open Dean, waiting in patient, throbbing fever for hours for him to come back, and do this for him. He wanted to capture him like this. He'd draw him later, or paint him. This would be a priceless painting. Hands on either side of Dean's chest, he crawled on top of him, pushing his knees behind Dean's and forcing them apart seductively. The bulge in Dean's boxers grew. Hot hands found Cas's chest and torso, and Cas arched his back, leaning down to trail his lips along Dean's jawline. A soft moan of need danced off Dean's lips. Hot breath washed his neck.
Smiling, Castiel snared his mouth. He took a sample of each lip, rolled his hot tongue over Dean's, and felt his own boner rage back to life. It was amazing how much he could take. After being required to be constantly horny for his previous boyfriend, it was just normal now, but much more enjoyable when it was a choice and not a demand. Dean was so patient. Although, his hands were defying him. He drew his fingers through Cas's hair, taking a firm handle of it, the other pushing beneath the waistband of Cas's boxer briefs. Shifting his hips out of Dean's reach teasingly, Cas enjoyed the rush of blood to his pelvis. It wasn't him the focus would be on tonight. He waited until his dick felt like concrete again before he dipped his waist and slowly rubbed his bulge against Dean's. The response he got was gently bucking hips, and a sharp intake of breath. The hand tightened in Castiel's hair.
"Close your eyes," Cas murmured against his lips, and slid away from him. He let Dean keep the grip on his hair as he worked his way down, leaving a trail of kisses on his body, which was tense with nerves. First his neck. Bite, suck. Bite, suck. Then his collar. Then his chest. Dean's moans of protest fell on deaf ears. "Relax," he breathed against Dean's navel. "Focus on the feelings. Don't let the 'might happen's gets in the way." He ran his hands over Dean's stomach. "I've got you." He added soothingly, to which he felt Dean heave with a deep breath, and as he let it out, his body began to relax bit by bit. All except his lower half, which was begging to be touched. Cas obliged. He lifted the waistband of Dean's boxers up and over his hard on, which was throbbing against his stomach, and Dean lifted his hips enough for Cas to work them further. They rested in a place halfway down his hips where there was no pressure on his balls when Cas finally got a good look at Dean's boner. He'd seen it in his underwear plenty of times, walking around the room casually, and in the past weekend they'd spent close together. But up close and personal was a lot different. He licked his lips nervously. There was a lot to work with.
Dean held his breath for a few moments, trying to relax, and predict what Cas was about to do. What he was thinking made him nervous. Cas's hands were roving pretty carelessly along the bare skin of his hips, so it was definite, but he had never pictured himself like this. Getting head from a guy. It sent waves of want through his groin, making him self-conscious about the twitch of his cock under prying eyes. But when he felt a hand leave his side, it wrapped around his hilt, he gulped. He strained under the weight of patience. Slowly, slowly, he felt a tongue covering every inch of him; its hot, wet touch gave Dean warm shivers. Head was head no matter what gender, but skilled head was eight times the experience. And Cas had some skill. He didn't get rough, or rush, he just lay there and took his time, which was a crashing relief to his victim. Although unfounded, fear made Dean's heart pound painfully in his ears and his head swim. The anxiety in Dean's heart was replaced very slowly by the mounting pleasure he was getting. More and more it came, letting himself sink into the feeling of being worked on after hours of being hard, and soon, pleasure was all he felt.
The motion of Cas's mouth was hypnotic. Dean let go of an involuntary gruff moan, wanting more, and was obliged at once. The pumping grew stronger, tighter. Over and over. Dean gripped Cas's hair as it slid back and forth and his other hand pressed flush with the mattress. "Oh, God," Dean moaned, and got a quick squeeze as a reward. It was building up, tighter and tighter, making him gasp and grunt; Castiel felt it as well, but did not cease, which scared Dean slightly. What if he didn't like it, what would happen? He'd never had a girl spit it out save for once or twice, and he'd been pretty busy in his lifetime with women, but- "Oh, God, Cas!" He moaned loudly, and wasn't coherent enough to regret its volume as a wave of pleasure began to climb up his shaft. His next moans were completely incoherent as he reached climax. Colors and light exploded behind his eyes. His entire body worshipped the orgasm. His knees buckled, his back arched, and his hand went slack on the back of Cas's head in ecstasy. Castiel took it without protest or squeamish flinch. He sucked him dry and licked him clean, and Dean's limbs collapsed into a dizzy heap.
He blinked, and Cas was there, pressing a hard kiss to his cheek. "You're so well behaved," he whispered into his ear, making him weak. "Want a taste?" Dean turned his head into the damp lips and sank his tongue between them. They macked and wrapped each other in arms and legs for at least twenty minutes before both were dead asleep.