Fic: Sweet Summer Sweat- R
Title: Sweet Summer Sweat
Rating: R
Warnings: There's handjobby elements to this, so while not deserving of NC-17 (imo) it is still pretty graphic.
A/N: So this is a little Pornlet that is acting as a prequel to something I've had in the works for EVER (which was what I was going to post until I, you know, ran out of time ;) )This is completely stand alone! HUGE shoutout to the AWESOME hereare_mysins for her incredibly awesome, really pretty (MANY HIGHLIGHTER COLORS) beta. Any remaining errors or craziness are mine.
Summary: Dean dreams of hay, sweat, and Castiel.
Dean knows he's dreaming the second he steps into the barn. There are a few well worn tools in the back left corner, barely visible in the dim lantern light. There's a horse in the stable to his right, though he can't see it so much as hear it shuffling and huffing restlessly. He can see hay strewn haphazardly along the edge of the loft. It seems there are bigger, more solid bales further back but they're lost in the shadows. Dean's t-shirt is plastered on him, and sweat is collecting in the hollow of his neck. He brings the hem of his shirt up to wipe his brow and smells the scent of hard farm work all over his clothing. He looks down and notes his rough jeans. They are dusty and worn through the knees, and his green t-shirt is in worse shape, threadbare and thin. He pulls the workman gloves off his hands and grabs the closest lantern.
As he walks towards the corner with the tools, Dean feels a breeze rustle through the barn, sees the lanterns almost flickering out, and then he hears the rustle of wings. He turns and faces Castiel, who he knew would be there. Dean doesn't say a word before he's wrapped around Castiel, pulling him in as close as he can and nuzzling into Castiel's neck. The scents of hay and sweat and man fill Dean's nose. He brings his hands around and up Castiel's back, smoothing across the outside of the trench coat and pressing Castiel in even closer, bringing their chests together. I want you, he thinks, and Castiel replies with a murmur and wraps his arms around Dean's waist.
Dean kisses Castiel's neck, mouthing just where the jaw meets his neck. He can feel as Castiel brings his hands up over Dean's shoulders and carts his fingers through Dean's hair, gripping his head. Castiel pulls Dean's head away from his neck so he can kiss him properly. The action is slow, their lips gliding onto each other with a steady pressure. Dean licks along Castiel's mouth, and it opens immediately, welcoming Dean. Soon, Castiel's tongue finds its way into Dean's mouth and the kiss intensifies. They're already pressed together, hands roaming and hips gently thrusting in an effort to find that perfect friction. It isn't long before Dean feels that familiar pressure working it's way through his core.
Castiel catches him by surprise when Dean feels a hand unbutton his fly. There's a warm hand wrapped around his length and the steady, slow movements that Castiel makes are completely undoing him. Dean is lost in the sensation of Castiel around him. The scent of his angel and farm and hay fight for dominance of Dean's senses. Dean's orgasm blindsides him, and he feels the sticky warmth of his come as it seeps through his donned boxers.
Of course, this is when Dean wakes up. He misses the warmth of the other body, the humidity of the summer night, but he swears that he can still smell hay. Dean sighs and fights the rising panic about the decidedly non-platonic dream he's just had about his angel. He brings his hand to his face and wipes his brow. Sensing the stickiness in his boxers, he rolls gently out of bed and makes towards the shower. After he cleans off, he's really going to need a drink.