AN: i apologize for a sort of late update. i was in an off mood all last week and couldn't really find the time or energy to write. i have spring break this week, so i'm really hoping to get a lot of writing in (not just for this story, but my other ones too).
so this chapter was supposed to be a mix of pwp and feels, but the porn part kinda took the bulk of my writing effort today (and i didn't even do all of what i'd plan...) so the feels will just have to wait til the next update. it's kind of a short chapter, too :/
i think realistically there are two chapters left to the story, though if there's interest in an epilogue that talks about how fucking miserable dean was for those twenty two years, i might do something along those lines (assuming you guys are interested in some angsty shit like that, omg my poor baby dean was so sad for so long in this story...)
The make their way back to the hotel in silence. It's not as awkward as Castiel would've feared, but it's still filled with all of the things left unsaid. He spends the ride enjoying this moment - the calm before the storm he's sure to come - until he stumbles as he gets out of the car. With a grimace and a groan, he's rudely reminded of the physical issues the adrenaline and high of orgasm had allowed him to ignore.
"Dammit," he mutters as he winces with each step. His knees are a mess and the bruising on his ribs is starting to lead to tenderness.
But then Dean's there, easing his weight onto his shoulders and gently leading him to their motel room. "I gotcha."
The distraction of picking shards of glass out of his knee cap seems welcome to both of them. It's a relatively mindless task for Dean, who has taken care of far worse injuries in his day. For Cas (or rather, more for Thomas, who feels corporeal things like this more than Cas ever did), it's an exercise in not flinching.
After a particularly deep piece is dug out, Dean seems to want to fill the silence. "Sorry about earlier." He pulls out another piece before dabbing away the blood. It's a great excuse not to look each other int he eyes. "About not burning the body faster, obviously, but uh... the other stuff too." Another piece of glass, followed immediately by another. Cas' toes twitch in an effort to keep his leg still. "I know you said you wanted this to be slow. But uh, that escalated a little more than I expected it to."
Dean puts down the tweezers and gauze. Finally, he looks up and Cas' heart swells at the way he nervously looks him over.
He thinks he's ruined things, Cas realizes. Of all the things that have come in the way over the years, and Dean thinks this would be the thing to destroy it. The very idea pulls a chuckle out of him despite the lingering pain.
Before Dean gets the chance to feel self-conscious, Cas leans forward and kisses him.
Their relationship does a complete 180. Instead of being a friendship that slightly edged on being too physical, it become one that was almost completely physical with very little talking. A little voice in the back of his head says this isn't exactly smart. He hasn't really come to a decision, hasn't spoken to Dean about things yet, and jumping into this is great for right now but terrible in the long run.
He very much hates that voice.
But it's very easy to ignore it.
Especially when Dean's pushing him against the kitchen table and ravishing his mouth. Or in the car after a grocery run. And that time in the laundry room didn't really give him an incentive to put a stop on things either. Things don't progress much beyond that. There's some groping, but Dean seems to purposely avoid anything further.
A few days ago, Cas would have been very appreciative of that.
Today he's not.
He's not going to lie, he's been in a state of semi-arousal since Fayette. The few times he's jerked off have done nothing to take the edge off, probably because Dean and all the temptation he represents are never more than a room away. As far as he's concerned, he's either going to have to go on a long road trip solo... or get his hand on Dean's cock (or vice versa, at this point he does not care).
Like with most things, Dean's very good at avoiding things he doesn't want to talk about or do and this is no different. Already quite adept at it when Cas left twenty two years ago, he's mastered the art in the interim. So Cas' only chance is to catch him off guard.
He waits until he hears Dean start the shower, gives it another three minutes (two minutes and forty three seconds, actually, since he couldn't wait longer) before he gets the nerve to silently open the door. The room's already fogged up with steam and luckily the shower curtain's thick enough that they can't see each other. It buys Cas time to collect himself, figure out if this is something he really wants to do.
A small whimper on the other side of the curtain, the unmistakable sound of skin on skin, and he knows, just knows Dean's a few feet away touching himself.
Slipping out of his boxers and shirt with more care than usual (he tries to be silent, doesn't want to give up the element of surprise just yet). He tip toes over, his own cock bobbing as he moves because fuck Dean just groaned again. He takes one last deep breath to steady his nerves before pulling the curtain aside and stepping into the tub.
Neither Cas nor Thomas has ever had the opportunity to see Dean fully naked. Well, Castiel did momentarily when he re-built Dean's body, but that was before his own experiences in a human vessel had given him the necessary experience to fully appreciate it. The man before him is nothing short of breath-takingly beautiful.
Dean gasps as the slightly colder air hits him, turning away from the spray to look over his shoulder. His left arm is braced against the wall and his right hand doesn't stop its slow, precise movements. He just meets Cas' gaze, no real shock or annoyance at the sudden intrusion. No, the only thing Cas sees is the same want he's been feeling the past few days mirrored back at him.
"Cas..."
He's not sure if it's a warning or an invitation, doesn't really care about the distinction because it's probably a mix of both. Instead he moves forward, lines his body up with Dean's and presses in. Dean makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan, leaning back into his weight. His head falls back, exposing the line of his throat, and Cas takes full advantage.
He makes his way from the line of his jaw down to Dean's clavicle, alternating between kisses and sucking harsh bruises along the way. He slots his cock along the curve of Dean's ass, not being too invasive, just the hint of pressure. When Dean tries to buck back into the contact, he shushes him and stills his hips with both hands before reaching around to replace Dean's with his own.
Dean just gives in, lets Cas set the pace as he strokes Dean. Slowly, experimentally at first. He tries to match Dean's earlier movements, easing Dean into a rhythm before tightening his grip and speeding up. Without really noticing, he pulls Dean flush against him and grinds against him.
"Cas... stop-"
"No," he whines, but stops anyway. So close, they're so close and it just isn't fair that it's going to end-
"Just gotta-" Dean pulls away a bit before turning around. He cradles Cas' face for a moment, a tender gesture that's totally forgotten when he starts licking his way into Cas' mouth and thrusting forward. "Just wanna... oh shit-" he breaks off when his erection finally meets Cas'. "Just wanna see you."
"Mmm." And then they're kissing again and moving against each other. The water makes things too slippery, no friction to be found, and Dean's breathy laugh stops him.
"Lemme..." Dean pulls back enough to get a hand between them, closing around both of them in a firm grip.
He tries to form words, honestly he does, but they seem to get caught in his throat in a moan when Dean starts jerking them off. Knowing he's not going to be saying anything coherent for a while, he settles his head in the crook of Dean's neck and warps his arms around his shoulders.
"So good, fuck... You drive me so fucking crazy, you know that Cas? Wanted to get my hands on you... all fucking week. Dream about all the ways I could make you come... Kept picturing the way you looked when you came last time, so fucking gorgeous-"
Cas is just along for the ride at this point, too keyed up to do more. He's not even sure what noises he's making anymore, all his energy focused on Dean - his voice breathing into his ear, his chest pressed against his, his hand around them both. (A tiny part of Castiel, part that he can't consciously pin down anymore, thinks he can even feel Dean's soul thrumming its approval. That beautiful soul no longer reaches out for him in longing, no, its moved past that to something he can find no other word for than joy.)
"Dean..." That's all he manages before he feels Dean stiffen, all the filthy things he's been saying turn into a long drawn out moan as he comes between them. Dean manages to a few more strokes before he has to stop and pull away, his own cock oversensitive.
A whimper barely escapes him before Dean's on his knees, the older man gently pushing him towards the wall. With his hands firmly keeping him in place, Dean gives the head of his dick one little kiss before he swallows Cas down in one swift movement. Cas gasps, surprise making him try to back away, but the wall and Dean's grip keep him from going to far. He watches, transfixed, as Dean works up and down his cock.
Cas buries his hands in Dean's hair, not sure why, since the older man clearly doesn't need the guidance. Dean's sucking and using just a hint of teeth and moaning around him and it's just too much, too good. "Dean," he warns, a half-thrust he can't quite help. "Dean-" And with a gasp he comes down Dean's throat, watching as Dean swallows him, keeps bobbing his head back and forth til there's nothing left.
When he regains his bearings, he finds himself on the ground in Dean's arms. Dean's whispering nonsense, combing his hand through his hair and kissing his cheek. "It's okay, baby, I got you."