SPN: First Anniversary is Beer and Feathers
Title: First Anniversary is Beer and Feathers
Recipient:
dickchester
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1553
Warnings: Mild exhibitionism, wing!kink, sex via grace and soul, handjob, frottage, some bad language. Nothing overly explicit.
Spoilers: None. Pretty much ignores the show.
Summary: Castiel loves it when Dean drinks enough to lose his inhibitions. He's not so fond of the beer stains on his feathers the next morning, but he'll put up with it for Dean. / Dean will do anything for Cas, even clean his wings after he dirties them and sometimes follow his orders.
A/N: Written for the Dean/Cas Christmas Exchange.
~*~
Castiel will never admit it, but he secretly likes when Dean drinks these days. Not when he gets drunk, that's just embarrassing for everyone and can be problematic if (or when) something attacks. But when he just has enough to get tipsy and affectionate... Castiel loves it when he lets his barriers down like this.
“Cas, man, you're... you're awesome.”
“Thank you Dean,” Castiel responds as he always does, slight smile playing about his lips. Dean's leaning back against a pool table, beer in one hand, cue helping him to keep straight, while Castiel stands back a little watching. They both ignore the sniggers from the other men present - they're just jealous, Castiel thinks, that he's the one whose name Dean screams in the night.
He feels his wings flutter a little as his thoughts turn to just how loud he can manage to make Dean when he tries, and sees Dean's eyes widen a little. A smirk crosses Castiel's face and he turns, walking away from the crowded pool table towards the darker edges of the bar. He knows that Dean will follow as soon as his game is done, which gives Castiel time to arrange things to his liking.
When Dean makes his way over, Castiel is sitting on a chair mostly out of sight of the rest of the bar. He grins and sits on Castiel's lap without hesitating, one hand cupping Castiel's face as he kisses his angel deeply and the other arm goes around Castiel's neck in an awkward hug, unwilling to give up his beer right now.
Castiel really likes it when Dean's had this much to drink.
Reaching up, Castiel wraps his arms around Dean's waist and holds him close, then allows his wings to fold around and encase them both in a wall of feathers. Dean moans into his mouth at the feeling, squirming a little to try and rub their groins together. He'd never admit it sober, but Dean loves it when Castiel takes over and asserts himself.
“Cas,” Dean groans as he feels feathers trailing along his skin. Castiel enjoys playing with him like this - his wings tend to ignore the existence of clothing, which can be quite entertaining when he's in the right mood. For now, he contents himself with using the tips of his long outer feathers to trace meaningless designs along Dean's back.
“Fuck.” Dean goes stiff for a moment, and Castiel leans back a little, confused. He turns his head to see what's wrong, then notices a rather unpleasant sensation along one of his wings. He sighs and turns back to Dean, giving him a flat stare which is returned with a sheepish grin.
“Give me that,” Castiel growls and confiscates what's left of the beer, swallowing it down quickly before Dean can spill any more on him. It feels like half the bottle is running through his feathers, and that does more to send him to inebriation than actual drinking does. One of these days he'll get around to investigating that, but for now he has a lap full of affectionate and apologetic Dean. He has much better things to focus on than the best way to get drunk.
Dean kisses him again as soon as he discards the beer, and Castiel is more than happy to respond. He keeps Dean's wrists captive in one of his hands and slips his other between them, unfastening their trousers with practiced ease as his wings continue to stroke Dean's skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean mumbles as Castiel wraps his hand around them both, alternating between stroking and squeezing. He coaxes the most delightful sounds out of Dean in between the swearing, and feels his grace trying to reach out and envelop Dean as well.
Dean starts rocking his hips, grinding together faster, and Castiel allows it. He can tell how close Dean is - he never has much stamina when he's been drinking - and seals his mouth over Dean's to disguise the shout as his human shudders through his release.
Holding Dean like this sends a hum of contentment through Castiel, and he doesn't mind that he hasn't come yet. They've got all night, after all, and Dean's never turned him down before.
~*~
The next morning, Castiel lies face down on the motel bed, wings spread wide and trailing along the floor as Dean gently cleans them. They've done this a few times since they stopped pussy-footing around each other, and by now Dean knows exactly how to touch the beautiful appendages. He used to be afraid of accidentally pulling out a feather and hurting Cas, but now he knows that it's a lot harder to hurt him than that. In fact, it's damn near impossible for Dean to physically hurt Castiel unless Cas wants him to.
Under Dean's ministrations, Castiel makes a decidedly happy sound, and Dean smiles. It was his fault that Cas had enormous beer stains on his wings this morning, but he's pretty sure that he's been forgiven now. One of the many great things about having an angel for a lover was that he didn't have to vocalise every little thing - once he'd gotten used to Castiel looking into his mind, he'd realised that it could be very useful, especially when he wanted to apologise for something without knowing the right words. Castiel could just pick up the intent from his mind, and they'd move on without having to talk about it endlessly.
Deciding that the wings are as clean as he's going to get them, Dean worms his way underneath so that he can lie next to Castiel. The angel opens his eyes and blinks slowly at Dean, who concentrates on how much he loves Castiel.
A heated spark lights in Castiel's eyes, and Dean knows he got the message loud and clear. This is always the best part of being able to spend a day together - when he can get Cas going like this. Castiel curls his wing a little so that it cradles Dean properly, and Dean digs his fingers into the feathers to hold on for what's coming. Staring into blue eyes, he feels something that's pure Cas reaching out to him, and he forcefully lowers the barriers Castiel had helped him put up to protect his mind from other telepathic creatures.
Dean lets out a gasp as he feels Castiel's grace pour into him, and his own soul responding. Their very essences spin together, wrapping around each other and combining, so that Dean can feel at once everything that Cas is and how all of that energy, love and devotion is focused on him right now. He knows that Cas is just as affected by this as he is, which is what allows him to let go and enjoy the feeling of being the centre of someone's world.
All Dean can feel is the soft feathers between his fingers, and all he can see is Castiel's eyes, just as wrecked with emotion as he knows his own are, and he revels in it. The feelings flowing between them, mirrored and bounced back increased, are always far more intense than he can truly believe when they're not lying together. And surrounding it all is the pure joy and pleasure that being entwined with Castiel always brings, slowly building the longer they stay like this, and Dean never wants to move from this spot. The world can take care of itself for once, he's busy getting soul-fucked by his angel.
Just before the feelings become too intense, Dean's vision goes white and he feels as though he's shattering, only to be put together again by Castiel's grace. They slowly withdraw back into their own isolated bodies, and Dean nuzzles into Castiel's wing above him as his breathing slows again.
They don't do that often, but Dean loves it when they do.
“Happy anniversary Cas,” he whispers before curling closer to kiss his lover. “One year today we've been mated.”
Castiel doesn't speak, he just kisses back before rolling on top of his mate. Dean can feel a hard length pressing against his hip and shifts a little, aligning them again as he wraps his legs around Castiel's. The soul-sex always leaves them both exhausted but physically horny, so they lazily rut together while trading messy kisses.
If someone had told Dean when he first met Castiel that one day he'd be in a committed relationship with the angel, he'd have laughed at them or shot them, depending on the day. Now, however, he can't think of a way for his life to improve. Days spent driving across the country with Sam at his side, hunting anything that poses a danger to humanity, and nights spent wrapped up with his bonded lover.
“Dean,” Castiel speaks in his low voice, “stop thinking. Just enjoy.”
A short rumble of laughter leaves Dean then, and he wraps his arms around Castiel to stroke his shoulder blades and wing joints - a happy side-effect of being bonded to Cas is that he can now see and interact with the wings. Which always comes in very handy during sex.
“Love you,” Dean smiles up at Castiel, who returns the tender look.
“Love you too. Happy anniversary. Now shut up and kiss me.”
Dean does as he's told, perfectly content.
Recipient:
dickchester
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1553
Warnings: Mild exhibitionism, wing!kink, sex via grace and soul, handjob, frottage, some bad language. Nothing overly explicit.
Spoilers: None. Pretty much ignores the show.
Summary: Castiel loves it when Dean drinks enough to lose his inhibitions. He's not so fond of the beer stains on his feathers the next morning, but he'll put up with it for Dean. / Dean will do anything for Cas, even clean his wings after he dirties them and sometimes follow his orders.
A/N: Written for the Dean/Cas Christmas Exchange.
~*~
Castiel will never admit it, but he secretly likes when Dean drinks these days. Not when he gets drunk, that's just embarrassing for everyone and can be problematic if (or when) something attacks. But when he just has enough to get tipsy and affectionate... Castiel loves it when he lets his barriers down like this.
“Cas, man, you're... you're awesome.”
“Thank you Dean,” Castiel responds as he always does, slight smile playing about his lips. Dean's leaning back against a pool table, beer in one hand, cue helping him to keep straight, while Castiel stands back a little watching. They both ignore the sniggers from the other men present - they're just jealous, Castiel thinks, that he's the one whose name Dean screams in the night.
He feels his wings flutter a little as his thoughts turn to just how loud he can manage to make Dean when he tries, and sees Dean's eyes widen a little. A smirk crosses Castiel's face and he turns, walking away from the crowded pool table towards the darker edges of the bar. He knows that Dean will follow as soon as his game is done, which gives Castiel time to arrange things to his liking.
When Dean makes his way over, Castiel is sitting on a chair mostly out of sight of the rest of the bar. He grins and sits on Castiel's lap without hesitating, one hand cupping Castiel's face as he kisses his angel deeply and the other arm goes around Castiel's neck in an awkward hug, unwilling to give up his beer right now.
Castiel really likes it when Dean's had this much to drink.
Reaching up, Castiel wraps his arms around Dean's waist and holds him close, then allows his wings to fold around and encase them both in a wall of feathers. Dean moans into his mouth at the feeling, squirming a little to try and rub their groins together. He'd never admit it sober, but Dean loves it when Castiel takes over and asserts himself.
“Cas,” Dean groans as he feels feathers trailing along his skin. Castiel enjoys playing with him like this - his wings tend to ignore the existence of clothing, which can be quite entertaining when he's in the right mood. For now, he contents himself with using the tips of his long outer feathers to trace meaningless designs along Dean's back.
“Fuck.” Dean goes stiff for a moment, and Castiel leans back a little, confused. He turns his head to see what's wrong, then notices a rather unpleasant sensation along one of his wings. He sighs and turns back to Dean, giving him a flat stare which is returned with a sheepish grin.
“Give me that,” Castiel growls and confiscates what's left of the beer, swallowing it down quickly before Dean can spill any more on him. It feels like half the bottle is running through his feathers, and that does more to send him to inebriation than actual drinking does. One of these days he'll get around to investigating that, but for now he has a lap full of affectionate and apologetic Dean. He has much better things to focus on than the best way to get drunk.
Dean kisses him again as soon as he discards the beer, and Castiel is more than happy to respond. He keeps Dean's wrists captive in one of his hands and slips his other between them, unfastening their trousers with practiced ease as his wings continue to stroke Dean's skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dean mumbles as Castiel wraps his hand around them both, alternating between stroking and squeezing. He coaxes the most delightful sounds out of Dean in between the swearing, and feels his grace trying to reach out and envelop Dean as well.
Dean starts rocking his hips, grinding together faster, and Castiel allows it. He can tell how close Dean is - he never has much stamina when he's been drinking - and seals his mouth over Dean's to disguise the shout as his human shudders through his release.
Holding Dean like this sends a hum of contentment through Castiel, and he doesn't mind that he hasn't come yet. They've got all night, after all, and Dean's never turned him down before.
~*~
The next morning, Castiel lies face down on the motel bed, wings spread wide and trailing along the floor as Dean gently cleans them. They've done this a few times since they stopped pussy-footing around each other, and by now Dean knows exactly how to touch the beautiful appendages. He used to be afraid of accidentally pulling out a feather and hurting Cas, but now he knows that it's a lot harder to hurt him than that. In fact, it's damn near impossible for Dean to physically hurt Castiel unless Cas wants him to.
Under Dean's ministrations, Castiel makes a decidedly happy sound, and Dean smiles. It was his fault that Cas had enormous beer stains on his wings this morning, but he's pretty sure that he's been forgiven now. One of the many great things about having an angel for a lover was that he didn't have to vocalise every little thing - once he'd gotten used to Castiel looking into his mind, he'd realised that it could be very useful, especially when he wanted to apologise for something without knowing the right words. Castiel could just pick up the intent from his mind, and they'd move on without having to talk about it endlessly.
Deciding that the wings are as clean as he's going to get them, Dean worms his way underneath so that he can lie next to Castiel. The angel opens his eyes and blinks slowly at Dean, who concentrates on how much he loves Castiel.
A heated spark lights in Castiel's eyes, and Dean knows he got the message loud and clear. This is always the best part of being able to spend a day together - when he can get Cas going like this. Castiel curls his wing a little so that it cradles Dean properly, and Dean digs his fingers into the feathers to hold on for what's coming. Staring into blue eyes, he feels something that's pure Cas reaching out to him, and he forcefully lowers the barriers Castiel had helped him put up to protect his mind from other telepathic creatures.
Dean lets out a gasp as he feels Castiel's grace pour into him, and his own soul responding. Their very essences spin together, wrapping around each other and combining, so that Dean can feel at once everything that Cas is and how all of that energy, love and devotion is focused on him right now. He knows that Cas is just as affected by this as he is, which is what allows him to let go and enjoy the feeling of being the centre of someone's world.
All Dean can feel is the soft feathers between his fingers, and all he can see is Castiel's eyes, just as wrecked with emotion as he knows his own are, and he revels in it. The feelings flowing between them, mirrored and bounced back increased, are always far more intense than he can truly believe when they're not lying together. And surrounding it all is the pure joy and pleasure that being entwined with Castiel always brings, slowly building the longer they stay like this, and Dean never wants to move from this spot. The world can take care of itself for once, he's busy getting soul-fucked by his angel.
Just before the feelings become too intense, Dean's vision goes white and he feels as though he's shattering, only to be put together again by Castiel's grace. They slowly withdraw back into their own isolated bodies, and Dean nuzzles into Castiel's wing above him as his breathing slows again.
They don't do that often, but Dean loves it when they do.
“Happy anniversary Cas,” he whispers before curling closer to kiss his lover. “One year today we've been mated.”
Castiel doesn't speak, he just kisses back before rolling on top of his mate. Dean can feel a hard length pressing against his hip and shifts a little, aligning them again as he wraps his legs around Castiel's. The soul-sex always leaves them both exhausted but physically horny, so they lazily rut together while trading messy kisses.
If someone had told Dean when he first met Castiel that one day he'd be in a committed relationship with the angel, he'd have laughed at them or shot them, depending on the day. Now, however, he can't think of a way for his life to improve. Days spent driving across the country with Sam at his side, hunting anything that poses a danger to humanity, and nights spent wrapped up with his bonded lover.
“Dean,” Castiel speaks in his low voice, “stop thinking. Just enjoy.”
A short rumble of laughter leaves Dean then, and he wraps his arms around Castiel to stroke his shoulder blades and wing joints - a happy side-effect of being bonded to Cas is that he can now see and interact with the wings. Which always comes in very handy during sex.
“Love you,” Dean smiles up at Castiel, who returns the tender look.
“Love you too. Happy anniversary. Now shut up and kiss me.”
Dean does as he's told, perfectly content.