[FIC] Love Arrives and in its Trains Come Ecstasies (NC-17) for Bhsbaby
Gift type: Fanfic
Title: Love Arrives and in its Trains Come Ecstasies
Recipient: bhsbaby
Author: beef_wonder3
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Man on Angel sex
Spoilers: S5
Summary: Dean gives Castiel a helping hand.
Author notes: Merry Christmas. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it.
Title comes from the poem “Touched by an Angel” by Maya Angelou
“So, there definitely have been more deaths in the house.” Sam informed Dean when he walked into the motel room.
Laying his keys and wallet on his bedside table, Dean shucked his jacket and asked,
“Do you think haunting or something cursed in the house?”
“Dunno.” Sam replied, “I just have the history of the house. Every time it was listed for sale, 'death of previous owner' was the reason.”
“So we find out if the deaths all happened the same way as our latest vic.” Dean concluded, reading the laptop screen over Sam's shoulder.
“Yeah, but they go back pretty far, man. I'm gonna have to check the library's newspaper records.”
“You gonna go tomorrow?” Dean asked but before Sam could reply Guns 'N' Roses began to jingle from Dean's pocket.
Dean immediately dug his cell out and answered without looking at the display.
“Hey Cas. Yeah, we're in Ohio. Place called the Sleepeasy Motel. Ok, see you soon.”
Dean disconnected the call and noticed his brother watching him with raised eyebrows.
“What?”
“That's the ringtone you put for Cas' number?” Sam asked
“Yeah, so what?”
“Knockin' On Heavens Door? Really Dean,” Sam snorted, “Makes me wonder what you've got for mine.”
“Barbie Girl.” Dean snarked at him. Sam rolled his eyes. Before Sam was tempted to verify whether or not Dean was serious about signalling Sam's calls with annoying, Danish pop songs, there was a knock at their door.
Dean answered it, not surprised to find Castiel on the other side. He was, however, surprised by his appearance, with Castiel looking like he'd been trampled by a herd of angry bulls.
“Jesus Cas! What the hell happened?” Dean blurted out as he stepped aside to let the battered Angel in.
“I stumbled into a battle I perhaps shouldn't have.” 'Perhaps' was an understatement. The battle had been a vicious foray between several Angels and several Demons. “I may have been thrown into a tree.” Castiel explained simply as he removed the ever-present trench coat.
“A tree?” Dean repeated sceptically looking Castiel up and down.
“Or several.” Castiel amended. “I will be fine.”
Dean frowned at Castiel. He didn't look fine. The Angel had several half-healed wounds, one on his forehead and a dark stain of blood on the dark suit jacket, showing another on his shoulder. Blood was smeared across Castiel's face, from the head wound and as evidence of a heavy nosebleed. And, Dean scrutinized Castiel closer; he saw quite a few small twigs and leaves nesting in his dark, messy hair.
Dean was snapped out of his damages assessment when Sam spoke,
“Are you sure you're okay? You look pretty beat up.”
“I will be fine.” Castiel repeated before asking, “However, I was hoping to use your amenities to clean up?”
“Yeah, of course.” Dean said, gesturing to the bathroom, “There should be towels in there.”
“Thank you.” Castiel said, nodding to both Dean and Sam and slipping in the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Dean continued to stare at the closed door with a worried frown. It took several seconds to register Sam calling his name.
“Dean!” Dean snapped his gaze back to his brother. “He said he was fine. I'm sure he'd tell you if it was serious.”
“I know!” Dean defended, coloring slightly and silently curse his little brother's mind-reading abilities. Ok so maybe less mind-reading and more Dean-reading. Whatever.
Sam on the other hand just rolled his eyes again and stood up.
“I'm gonna check out the library now. News said they expected a snow storm tomorrow.”
“Christ, is it winter again already?” Dean asked.
“'Fraid so.” Sam said cheerily, “Happens every year.” Dean made a face at him, making Sam snort as he grabbed the keys from where Dean had left them.
“I'll try to be back by six.” Sam went on, grabbing his jacket, “I'll bring back something to eat. Pizza?”
Dean nodded and agreed, a little absently, once again focused on the sound of running water from the bathroom.
This meant he completely missed Sam's cheeky smirk as he let out a parting shot,
“And dude, if you're gonna play Nurse, make sure there's a sock on the door so I'm not scarred for life.”
“Hey!” Dean snapped, hoping Sam didn't realize just how much Dean would like to play Nurse to Cas, especially the naughty kind. Dean was going to shoot back a witty retort but Sam was already out the door, shutting behind him.
Sam grinned to himself and headed towards the Impala. That was for the Barbie Girl crack.
Dean shook his head at the closed door and grabbed a small pile of printouts Sam had left on the table. Taking the paper with him, Dean settled on his bed, flicking on the television with the remote. The screen sprung to life and drowned out the sounds of movement from the bathroom.
Dean flicked through the channels, looking for anything less than mind-numbing. Settling on another rerun of Home Alone, (that movie was on high rotation everywhere this time of year), Dean leafed through the printouts and listened to Macaulay Culkin get into trouble yet again.
After some time, when the young boy onscreen planned hilarious traps, there was a loud THUMP from behind the bathroom door. Dean's head snapped up at the noise and his brow creased in concern.
Slipping off the bed, Dean approached the bathroom and called out warily,
“Cas? You okay?”
There was a pause before Castiel's reply came, muffled by the door.
“I think... I think I require assistance.” The Angel said. Taken-aback slightly, Dean said slowly,
“O-kay.” Placing his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated, “Can I come in?”
“Yes, you may.” Castiel replied.
Opening the door, Dean stepped into the bathroom. The air was still warm and heavy from the shower. Closing the door behind him, Dean looked at the Angel. Castiel was standing in front of the mirror, in only his, now clean, suit pants. He was twisting his shirtless upper body, as if trying to see his back in the mirror.
“What's the matter?” Dean asked. Castiel stopped the awkward twisting and gave Dean an almost shy look, a world of difference between that and his usual blank stare.
“There is... I have a twig stuck. It is uncomfortable.”
Dean raised an eyebrow as his eyes swept over Castiel's form again. While Dean admittedly liked what he saw, he did not see any small bits of wood stuck to Castiel's torso.
“I don't see anything...” Dean said. This however made Castiel look even shyer for some reason. His eyes darted away from Dean as he explained,
“It is caught between my feathers.” He twisted his left arm back up behind him as if reaching for his right shoulder blade. “I cannot reach it.”
“Your feathers? Oh.” Dean said in realization. “Would you, um, I mean” he stumbled out awkwardly, “Would you like me to get it?”
Castiel's expression melted into one of gratitude and relief.
“I would be very grateful.”
Dean nodded jerkily as he tugged against the collar of his t-shirt. The humid air was making him sweat in the small room. Castiel turned to face the mirror again, meeting Dean's eyes in the reflection.
Nothing about Castiel changed but shock coursed through Dean as the shadow of great, expansive wings stretched out across the wall behind Dean, the shadow passing briefly over his face. Dean swallowed hard, the air seeming thicker as an undercurrent of raw power was contained in the small room, reminding Dean that Castiel was other.
Dean's eyes tore away from the mirror's reflection of the shadow-wings to stare intently at Castiel's bare back.
“You won't be able to see them.” Castiel explained “I cannot let you see them or they will blind you.”
“Wouldn't want that.” Dean croaked out
.
“But you should be able to touch them.” Castiel continued as if Dean hadn't interrupted.
Curiosity piqued in Dean, so he took a chance and asked,
“If they're solid, how come I don't feel them any other time?”
Castiel replied,
“They are part of my true form. When I do not need them I pull them back within my Vessel with the rest of myself.”
“Oh.” was all Dean could say. He bit his lip, moving forward slightly. He was going to touch Cas' wings and he really, really wanted to.
Eyes still trailing up and down Castiel’s back, Dean observed. His body was lean and unscarred, not scrawny but much less muscled than Dean was used to seeing on Sam and himself. The jolt of arousal that punched Dean's lower belly was a shock but the reaction was unsurprising. It'd been a while now that Dean had been doing everything he could to keep his hands of Castiel.
Unsure of how the reserved, and virginal, Dean's memory supplied, Angel would take Dean's attraction to him.
It was easier when Sam was around, little brothers being one of the best cockblocks known to man.
Dean laid a hand in the dip of Castiel's lower back, feeling him tense beneath Dean's touch. Castiel did not move though; gaze still focused on the reflection, both of his hands on the vanity surrounding the grimy sink, gripping it tightly.
Dean once again glanced up to the mirror to the reflection of the shadows behind them. Castiel's wings were spread wide, either side of Dean, feathers twitching. Dean cleared his throat and slowly inched is hand up Castiel's spine.
“Wher-” Dean cleared his throat again to cover the crack in his voice, “Where did you say it was?”
“It should be somewhere near my right shoulder blade.” Castiel said and maybe it was Dean's wishful thinking but Castiel's voice sounded tight with anticipation? Uncomfortableness?
Dean slid his hand to Castiel's right shoulder until his fingers reached something at the shoulder blade that he most definitely could not see.
Dean felt his breathing speed up and another strike of arousal as his fingers slid up and in between the softest, most luxurious things Dean had ever felt. He could still see his fingertips even as he felt them slipping between feathers. They were softer than any feather Dean had felt before, smoother than silk. Dean wondered if this was what touching clouds felt like. And they were warm, like laundry just pulled from the dryer.
And all at once the intimacy of the moment hit Dean. The softness of Castiel's feathers, the way Cas was trembling. Dean wanted nothing more in that moment than to step forward, hold Castiel's body close to his and bury himself in the warmth and protection of his wings.
But Dean didn't do any of those things. His body wavered as if to step forward but he stilled himself. He couldn't get too close, lest Castiel discover how hard Dean was getting in his jeans.
“Dean?” Castiel questioned in a reedy voice. Dean wanted to believe that it was more than his own feelings making Cas sound almost, turned on?
“Sorry.” Dean muttered and focused on the task at hand. He gently combed his fingertips up and down, through he invisible feathers and Dean frowned as Castiel's trembling increased.
Continuing his motions Dean's fingers brushed over a clump of twisted feathers. He gently picked at the knot, trying not to tug too hard. He wasn't sure if the feathers would pull out with too much force but common sense told Dean that it would hurt like a bitch if it did.
So Dean kept it slow, did a little at a time. It wasn't easy, the twig was right in there and many feathers had twisted around it in complicated knots. Immersed in the task, Dean brought his other hand up to help, unconsciously stepping forward to reach, forgetting his aroused state.
He was forcibly reminded though as his erection pressed against Castiel's backside. Dean froze completely as the Angel gasped. Dean's hand accidentally clenched in Castiel's wing, causing him to visibly shudder.
That knocked Dean out of his frozen state but as he went to jerk back with a,“Shit Cas! I'm-” the apology died on his lips as Castiel's hand shot back to grasp Dean's left hip, keeping their bodies pressed together. Dean didn't move, didn't breathe until Castiel prompted him with,“Dean? The twig?” as if he didn't know Dean was seconds away from creaming himself.
“Oh, uh, right.” Dean said ever so eloquently, voice low and rough against his will. Using two hands, Dean once again picked at the knot of feathers. He worked on it for a few minutes before nearly ripping the whole damn thing out completely when Cas rocked back against him.
“Christ Cas.” he groaned, giving up all pretence that he wasn't achingly hard. “I can't concentrate when you do that.”
“My apologies.” Castiel said, definitely breathless this time. “It feels good when you touch me there.” Dean looked in the mirror at Cas' face. The Angel's eyes cut away from his and a blush colored his cheeks.
“You like me touching your wings?” Dean asked slowly.
“They're very sensitive.” Castiel informed him but Dean did notice his blush deepen.
He bit his lip again to refrain from replying to that and doubled his efforts to remove Castiel's annoyance.
Finally, finally the last few tangles unravelled and the small bit of wood came free. Dean tossed it in the general direction of the garbage and while he smoothed the freed feathers down, Dean whispered the question he was burning to know. It was a risk but right now Dean thought he hadn't been reading things wrong.
Not bothering to conceal the growl in his voice, he asked, “Cas, does it,” Dean licked his dry lips, “Does having your wings touched turn you on?”
Castiel shuddered hard and strangled out a whispered,
“Yes.”
And that was all Dean needed. He wrenched himself away from Castiel, grasping his hips to urge Castiel to turn around. Dean felt a whoosh of air over his head that told him he just narrowly avoided being smacked in the face with an invisible wing.
He couldn't care less though, because as soon as he had Cas facing him, Dean pressed the shorter Angel's body back against the vanity with his own. Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other. Every detail tried to burn itself into Dean's brain. From the feel of Cas' hard dick pressing against his hip, to the rapid movement of Cas' chest and the deep, drowning blue of his eyes as they stared into Dean's.
The sound of their breathes mingling seemed to envelop the room. Dean leaned in slightly, not enough to kiss but enough to make his intent clear. He had to be sure Cas wanted this. Dean's worries were slightly assuaged when Castiel closed the remaining distance between them.
Dean groaned at the first press of lips and eagerly reciprocated. For as long as Dean had known he'd wanted Cas in this way, he never let on. Never imagined that the Angel might feel the same. Dean had kept his distance, as if wanting Cas was taboo. All the worries and doubts that had made Dean keep that distance began to rise in his mind.
Unfortunately, doubts weren't the only thing risen, which made it all that much harder to pull away. With a herculean effort, Dean disengaged the kiss. He had to be sure that this, that Dean, was what Cas wanted and that this wasn't just a response to the wing groping.
“Cas.” Dean tried as Castiel started sucking bruises along Dean's jaw, which was very distraction. What was he saying again? Oh, right. “Cas. Wait.” Dean managed to gasp out.
“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asked mildly, if a little breathlessly, as if he hadn't just stilled his hips from grinding into Dean's hip.
“Hold on a sec,” Dean said, “I have to know; Do you really want this? I have to know you're sure.”
The look Cas gave Dean reminded him of the looks he often gave idiots.
“Dean.” Castiel finally said, “Just because Angels, including me, do not indulge in our emotions, does not mean I am unaware of the feeling of desire or the consequences of acting upon it. Our emotions are not as important or as intense as they are to humans, but they are not completely foreign either.”
Dean contemplated Cas' words, forcing them to penetrate the fog of lust.
“So,” Dean clarified, “You want this.”
Castiel looked Dean directly in the eye, more intensely than usual.
“Yes Dean. I want you.” Dean didn't miss the emphasis Cas put on the 'You'. It made Dean's face warm. This was more than getting off. It was... more.
Cas smiled at him, a half smile that looked awkward and natural at the same time. Dean smiled back and leaned forward to kiss Cas again, this time not waiting for Castiel to finish the move. The kiss started slow and hot, rising with burning intensity. Castiel's hands gripped Dean's hips again, so Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, sliding his hands up his back to bury them in Castiel's soft, invisible wings. Dean revelled in the dual sensations of the feel of Cas' feathers and the full body shudder the petting elicited.
Now it was Dean's turn to trace Castiel's jaw line with nips and kisses, his fingers threading through divine feathers. Castiel groaned and slid his own hands down to Dean's ass, gripping him tightly. Dean shifted over a few inches and pressed them groin to groin. Both of them moaned long and loud as the hot press of cock against cock sent fire racing through their blood.
The friction was amazing, the hindrance of denim, polyester and cotton completely ignored as they started to sweat. But Dean wanted more, he wanted skin to skin.
Extracting one hand from Cas' wing, he tugged at his own t-shirt, muttering, “Shirt. Off.” and in an instant, Dean's shirt was gone, his and Castiel's bare torso's pressed flushed together.
The heat in the room continued to rise despite the steam dissipating. Dean stretched his arms up, dragging his hands further through Cas' wings. Castiel bucked against him hard, moaning his appreciation.
Dean kissed his way back up to Castiel's mouth again. Capturing his lips with his own, the delicious grind of hips moving them closer to orgasm. But Dean still needed more. He extracted his right hand from the wing it was in, ignoring Castiel's whine of protest, and slid it between their bodies.
He deftly undid the hidden snaps and zips on Castiel's pants before undoing his own. Both their pants and underwear shoved down to mid-thigh, the press of flesh to flesh felt oh, so good. Dean wrapped his hand around Cas' dick. It may have been a very long while since Dean had been with a dude, but damn, just like riding a bike.
Dean loved the way Castiel squirmed under his hands. One on his dick and his other rhythmically clenching his feathers. Pulling out of another bone-melting kiss, Dean groaned, “Cas, touch me.”
“I don't... How...?” Castiel panted.
“Like this.” Dean instructed, demonstrating by gripping Cas tightly and slowly, so very slowly, dragging his hand up and down Cas' cock, smearing his thumb over the slick head when he reached it.
Castiel copied him and from the second Cas wrapped his hand around Dean; he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
He sped up his hands, determined to make Cas come first. Their pace was hot and frantic, hands moving up and down slickly, twisting here and there, sending intense sparks of pleasure radiating through each other.
Dean knew Cas was close when the Angel started trembling again, even before Cas expressed his surprise, “Dean! Oh, I feel...”
“Shh,” Dean coaxed him, “It's okay. Just let it happen.” Pulling Cas' mouth into another kiss.
The trembling increased until Castiel's body locked tight for a second before unfreezing to shudder and buck into Dean's touch. Dean felt warm come spilling onto his fist, slicking obscenely as he continued to stroke Cas through his orgasm.
When Castiel was done, breathing harshly, the Angel rested his forehead against Dean's, keeping their eyes locked together.
Castiel started to jerk Dean again, his grip having loosened when he came. It didn't take long, the sensations building higher and faster, Dean's hips thrusting and balls tightening until Dean's orgasm ripped through him like a punch. Dean came hard, biting out curses, thrusting and spurting into Castiel's hand.
The only sound in the bathroom was their uneven breathing as they both came down from their orgasm high, still wrapped around each other.
Castiel was the first to break the silence,
“It appears I am in need of another shower.” Dean thought for a second, a small realization dawning.
“Can't you just mojo yourself clean?” Dean asked.
What could be an almost cheeky smile played on Castiel's lips as he replied, “I calculated that doing so would be less enjoyable.” He looked Dean in the eye again before adding, “For both of us.”
A slow, lazy grin spread across Dean's face at Castiel's words.
“I like the way you think. Yeah, a shower sounds good.” Wet, naked Cas? That definitely sounded good to Dean.
“Do we have time?” Castiel asked as Dean pulled away.
“Think so.” Dean said, toeing off his boots, “What time is it?”
“4:45pm.” Castiel replied with most likely absolute accuracy.
Dean grinned again, shucking his jeans and boxers,
“Plenty of time. Sam won't back until six.” Stepping under the showerhead, Dean turned on the water. He threw a look over his shoulder to the Angel. “You comin'?”
Still smiling, Dean felt Cas step into the tub behind him, pressing against Dean's back. Yeah, just over an hour should be enough for a shower and maybe a little more.
And if it wasn't, Dean thought, turning to kiss Cas because he was allowed to now. If it wasn't enough time, he could always put a sock on the door.
Fin.
Title: Love Arrives and in its Trains Come Ecstasies
Recipient: bhsbaby
Author: beef_wonder3
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Man on Angel sex
Spoilers: S5
Summary: Dean gives Castiel a helping hand.
Author notes: Merry Christmas. I enjoyed writing this and I hope you enjoy reading it.
Title comes from the poem “Touched by an Angel” by Maya Angelou
“So, there definitely have been more deaths in the house.” Sam informed Dean when he walked into the motel room.
Laying his keys and wallet on his bedside table, Dean shucked his jacket and asked,
“Do you think haunting or something cursed in the house?”
“Dunno.” Sam replied, “I just have the history of the house. Every time it was listed for sale, 'death of previous owner' was the reason.”
“So we find out if the deaths all happened the same way as our latest vic.” Dean concluded, reading the laptop screen over Sam's shoulder.
“Yeah, but they go back pretty far, man. I'm gonna have to check the library's newspaper records.”
“You gonna go tomorrow?” Dean asked but before Sam could reply Guns 'N' Roses began to jingle from Dean's pocket.
Dean immediately dug his cell out and answered without looking at the display.
“Hey Cas. Yeah, we're in Ohio. Place called the Sleepeasy Motel. Ok, see you soon.”
Dean disconnected the call and noticed his brother watching him with raised eyebrows.
“What?”
“That's the ringtone you put for Cas' number?” Sam asked
“Yeah, so what?”
“Knockin' On Heavens Door? Really Dean,” Sam snorted, “Makes me wonder what you've got for mine.”
“Barbie Girl.” Dean snarked at him. Sam rolled his eyes. Before Sam was tempted to verify whether or not Dean was serious about signalling Sam's calls with annoying, Danish pop songs, there was a knock at their door.
Dean answered it, not surprised to find Castiel on the other side. He was, however, surprised by his appearance, with Castiel looking like he'd been trampled by a herd of angry bulls.
“Jesus Cas! What the hell happened?” Dean blurted out as he stepped aside to let the battered Angel in.
“I stumbled into a battle I perhaps shouldn't have.” 'Perhaps' was an understatement. The battle had been a vicious foray between several Angels and several Demons. “I may have been thrown into a tree.” Castiel explained simply as he removed the ever-present trench coat.
“A tree?” Dean repeated sceptically looking Castiel up and down.
“Or several.” Castiel amended. “I will be fine.”
Dean frowned at Castiel. He didn't look fine. The Angel had several half-healed wounds, one on his forehead and a dark stain of blood on the dark suit jacket, showing another on his shoulder. Blood was smeared across Castiel's face, from the head wound and as evidence of a heavy nosebleed. And, Dean scrutinized Castiel closer; he saw quite a few small twigs and leaves nesting in his dark, messy hair.
Dean was snapped out of his damages assessment when Sam spoke,
“Are you sure you're okay? You look pretty beat up.”
“I will be fine.” Castiel repeated before asking, “However, I was hoping to use your amenities to clean up?”
“Yeah, of course.” Dean said, gesturing to the bathroom, “There should be towels in there.”
“Thank you.” Castiel said, nodding to both Dean and Sam and slipping in the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Dean continued to stare at the closed door with a worried frown. It took several seconds to register Sam calling his name.
“Dean!” Dean snapped his gaze back to his brother. “He said he was fine. I'm sure he'd tell you if it was serious.”
“I know!” Dean defended, coloring slightly and silently curse his little brother's mind-reading abilities. Ok so maybe less mind-reading and more Dean-reading. Whatever.
Sam on the other hand just rolled his eyes again and stood up.
“I'm gonna check out the library now. News said they expected a snow storm tomorrow.”
“Christ, is it winter again already?” Dean asked.
“'Fraid so.” Sam said cheerily, “Happens every year.” Dean made a face at him, making Sam snort as he grabbed the keys from where Dean had left them.
“I'll try to be back by six.” Sam went on, grabbing his jacket, “I'll bring back something to eat. Pizza?”
Dean nodded and agreed, a little absently, once again focused on the sound of running water from the bathroom.
This meant he completely missed Sam's cheeky smirk as he let out a parting shot,
“And dude, if you're gonna play Nurse, make sure there's a sock on the door so I'm not scarred for life.”
“Hey!” Dean snapped, hoping Sam didn't realize just how much Dean would like to play Nurse to Cas, especially the naughty kind. Dean was going to shoot back a witty retort but Sam was already out the door, shutting behind him.
Sam grinned to himself and headed towards the Impala. That was for the Barbie Girl crack.
Dean shook his head at the closed door and grabbed a small pile of printouts Sam had left on the table. Taking the paper with him, Dean settled on his bed, flicking on the television with the remote. The screen sprung to life and drowned out the sounds of movement from the bathroom.
Dean flicked through the channels, looking for anything less than mind-numbing. Settling on another rerun of Home Alone, (that movie was on high rotation everywhere this time of year), Dean leafed through the printouts and listened to Macaulay Culkin get into trouble yet again.
After some time, when the young boy onscreen planned hilarious traps, there was a loud THUMP from behind the bathroom door. Dean's head snapped up at the noise and his brow creased in concern.
Slipping off the bed, Dean approached the bathroom and called out warily,
“Cas? You okay?”
There was a pause before Castiel's reply came, muffled by the door.
“I think... I think I require assistance.” The Angel said. Taken-aback slightly, Dean said slowly,
“O-kay.” Placing his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated, “Can I come in?”
“Yes, you may.” Castiel replied.
Opening the door, Dean stepped into the bathroom. The air was still warm and heavy from the shower. Closing the door behind him, Dean looked at the Angel. Castiel was standing in front of the mirror, in only his, now clean, suit pants. He was twisting his shirtless upper body, as if trying to see his back in the mirror.
“What's the matter?” Dean asked. Castiel stopped the awkward twisting and gave Dean an almost shy look, a world of difference between that and his usual blank stare.
“There is... I have a twig stuck. It is uncomfortable.”
Dean raised an eyebrow as his eyes swept over Castiel's form again. While Dean admittedly liked what he saw, he did not see any small bits of wood stuck to Castiel's torso.
“I don't see anything...” Dean said. This however made Castiel look even shyer for some reason. His eyes darted away from Dean as he explained,
“It is caught between my feathers.” He twisted his left arm back up behind him as if reaching for his right shoulder blade. “I cannot reach it.”
“Your feathers? Oh.” Dean said in realization. “Would you, um, I mean” he stumbled out awkwardly, “Would you like me to get it?”
Castiel's expression melted into one of gratitude and relief.
“I would be very grateful.”
Dean nodded jerkily as he tugged against the collar of his t-shirt. The humid air was making him sweat in the small room. Castiel turned to face the mirror again, meeting Dean's eyes in the reflection.
Nothing about Castiel changed but shock coursed through Dean as the shadow of great, expansive wings stretched out across the wall behind Dean, the shadow passing briefly over his face. Dean swallowed hard, the air seeming thicker as an undercurrent of raw power was contained in the small room, reminding Dean that Castiel was other.
Dean's eyes tore away from the mirror's reflection of the shadow-wings to stare intently at Castiel's bare back.
“You won't be able to see them.” Castiel explained “I cannot let you see them or they will blind you.”
“Wouldn't want that.” Dean croaked out
.
“But you should be able to touch them.” Castiel continued as if Dean hadn't interrupted.
Curiosity piqued in Dean, so he took a chance and asked,
“If they're solid, how come I don't feel them any other time?”
Castiel replied,
“They are part of my true form. When I do not need them I pull them back within my Vessel with the rest of myself.”
“Oh.” was all Dean could say. He bit his lip, moving forward slightly. He was going to touch Cas' wings and he really, really wanted to.
Eyes still trailing up and down Castiel’s back, Dean observed. His body was lean and unscarred, not scrawny but much less muscled than Dean was used to seeing on Sam and himself. The jolt of arousal that punched Dean's lower belly was a shock but the reaction was unsurprising. It'd been a while now that Dean had been doing everything he could to keep his hands of Castiel.
Unsure of how the reserved, and virginal, Dean's memory supplied, Angel would take Dean's attraction to him.
It was easier when Sam was around, little brothers being one of the best cockblocks known to man.
Dean laid a hand in the dip of Castiel's lower back, feeling him tense beneath Dean's touch. Castiel did not move though; gaze still focused on the reflection, both of his hands on the vanity surrounding the grimy sink, gripping it tightly.
Dean once again glanced up to the mirror to the reflection of the shadows behind them. Castiel's wings were spread wide, either side of Dean, feathers twitching. Dean cleared his throat and slowly inched is hand up Castiel's spine.
“Wher-” Dean cleared his throat again to cover the crack in his voice, “Where did you say it was?”
“It should be somewhere near my right shoulder blade.” Castiel said and maybe it was Dean's wishful thinking but Castiel's voice sounded tight with anticipation? Uncomfortableness?
Dean slid his hand to Castiel's right shoulder until his fingers reached something at the shoulder blade that he most definitely could not see.
Dean felt his breathing speed up and another strike of arousal as his fingers slid up and in between the softest, most luxurious things Dean had ever felt. He could still see his fingertips even as he felt them slipping between feathers. They were softer than any feather Dean had felt before, smoother than silk. Dean wondered if this was what touching clouds felt like. And they were warm, like laundry just pulled from the dryer.
And all at once the intimacy of the moment hit Dean. The softness of Castiel's feathers, the way Cas was trembling. Dean wanted nothing more in that moment than to step forward, hold Castiel's body close to his and bury himself in the warmth and protection of his wings.
But Dean didn't do any of those things. His body wavered as if to step forward but he stilled himself. He couldn't get too close, lest Castiel discover how hard Dean was getting in his jeans.
“Dean?” Castiel questioned in a reedy voice. Dean wanted to believe that it was more than his own feelings making Cas sound almost, turned on?
“Sorry.” Dean muttered and focused on the task at hand. He gently combed his fingertips up and down, through he invisible feathers and Dean frowned as Castiel's trembling increased.
Continuing his motions Dean's fingers brushed over a clump of twisted feathers. He gently picked at the knot, trying not to tug too hard. He wasn't sure if the feathers would pull out with too much force but common sense told Dean that it would hurt like a bitch if it did.
So Dean kept it slow, did a little at a time. It wasn't easy, the twig was right in there and many feathers had twisted around it in complicated knots. Immersed in the task, Dean brought his other hand up to help, unconsciously stepping forward to reach, forgetting his aroused state.
He was forcibly reminded though as his erection pressed against Castiel's backside. Dean froze completely as the Angel gasped. Dean's hand accidentally clenched in Castiel's wing, causing him to visibly shudder.
That knocked Dean out of his frozen state but as he went to jerk back with a,“Shit Cas! I'm-” the apology died on his lips as Castiel's hand shot back to grasp Dean's left hip, keeping their bodies pressed together. Dean didn't move, didn't breathe until Castiel prompted him with,“Dean? The twig?” as if he didn't know Dean was seconds away from creaming himself.
“Oh, uh, right.” Dean said ever so eloquently, voice low and rough against his will. Using two hands, Dean once again picked at the knot of feathers. He worked on it for a few minutes before nearly ripping the whole damn thing out completely when Cas rocked back against him.
“Christ Cas.” he groaned, giving up all pretence that he wasn't achingly hard. “I can't concentrate when you do that.”
“My apologies.” Castiel said, definitely breathless this time. “It feels good when you touch me there.” Dean looked in the mirror at Cas' face. The Angel's eyes cut away from his and a blush colored his cheeks.
“You like me touching your wings?” Dean asked slowly.
“They're very sensitive.” Castiel informed him but Dean did notice his blush deepen.
He bit his lip again to refrain from replying to that and doubled his efforts to remove Castiel's annoyance.
Finally, finally the last few tangles unravelled and the small bit of wood came free. Dean tossed it in the general direction of the garbage and while he smoothed the freed feathers down, Dean whispered the question he was burning to know. It was a risk but right now Dean thought he hadn't been reading things wrong.
Not bothering to conceal the growl in his voice, he asked, “Cas, does it,” Dean licked his dry lips, “Does having your wings touched turn you on?”
Castiel shuddered hard and strangled out a whispered,
“Yes.”
And that was all Dean needed. He wrenched himself away from Castiel, grasping his hips to urge Castiel to turn around. Dean felt a whoosh of air over his head that told him he just narrowly avoided being smacked in the face with an invisible wing.
He couldn't care less though, because as soon as he had Cas facing him, Dean pressed the shorter Angel's body back against the vanity with his own. Time seemed to stop as they stared at each other. Every detail tried to burn itself into Dean's brain. From the feel of Cas' hard dick pressing against his hip, to the rapid movement of Cas' chest and the deep, drowning blue of his eyes as they stared into Dean's.
The sound of their breathes mingling seemed to envelop the room. Dean leaned in slightly, not enough to kiss but enough to make his intent clear. He had to be sure Cas wanted this. Dean's worries were slightly assuaged when Castiel closed the remaining distance between them.
Dean groaned at the first press of lips and eagerly reciprocated. For as long as Dean had known he'd wanted Cas in this way, he never let on. Never imagined that the Angel might feel the same. Dean had kept his distance, as if wanting Cas was taboo. All the worries and doubts that had made Dean keep that distance began to rise in his mind.
Unfortunately, doubts weren't the only thing risen, which made it all that much harder to pull away. With a herculean effort, Dean disengaged the kiss. He had to be sure that this, that Dean, was what Cas wanted and that this wasn't just a response to the wing groping.
“Cas.” Dean tried as Castiel started sucking bruises along Dean's jaw, which was very distraction. What was he saying again? Oh, right. “Cas. Wait.” Dean managed to gasp out.
“Yes, Dean?” Castiel asked mildly, if a little breathlessly, as if he hadn't just stilled his hips from grinding into Dean's hip.
“Hold on a sec,” Dean said, “I have to know; Do you really want this? I have to know you're sure.”
The look Cas gave Dean reminded him of the looks he often gave idiots.
“Dean.” Castiel finally said, “Just because Angels, including me, do not indulge in our emotions, does not mean I am unaware of the feeling of desire or the consequences of acting upon it. Our emotions are not as important or as intense as they are to humans, but they are not completely foreign either.”
Dean contemplated Cas' words, forcing them to penetrate the fog of lust.
“So,” Dean clarified, “You want this.”
Castiel looked Dean directly in the eye, more intensely than usual.
“Yes Dean. I want you.” Dean didn't miss the emphasis Cas put on the 'You'. It made Dean's face warm. This was more than getting off. It was... more.
Cas smiled at him, a half smile that looked awkward and natural at the same time. Dean smiled back and leaned forward to kiss Cas again, this time not waiting for Castiel to finish the move. The kiss started slow and hot, rising with burning intensity. Castiel's hands gripped Dean's hips again, so Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, sliding his hands up his back to bury them in Castiel's soft, invisible wings. Dean revelled in the dual sensations of the feel of Cas' feathers and the full body shudder the petting elicited.
Now it was Dean's turn to trace Castiel's jaw line with nips and kisses, his fingers threading through divine feathers. Castiel groaned and slid his own hands down to Dean's ass, gripping him tightly. Dean shifted over a few inches and pressed them groin to groin. Both of them moaned long and loud as the hot press of cock against cock sent fire racing through their blood.
The friction was amazing, the hindrance of denim, polyester and cotton completely ignored as they started to sweat. But Dean wanted more, he wanted skin to skin.
Extracting one hand from Cas' wing, he tugged at his own t-shirt, muttering, “Shirt. Off.” and in an instant, Dean's shirt was gone, his and Castiel's bare torso's pressed flushed together.
The heat in the room continued to rise despite the steam dissipating. Dean stretched his arms up, dragging his hands further through Cas' wings. Castiel bucked against him hard, moaning his appreciation.
Dean kissed his way back up to Castiel's mouth again. Capturing his lips with his own, the delicious grind of hips moving them closer to orgasm. But Dean still needed more. He extracted his right hand from the wing it was in, ignoring Castiel's whine of protest, and slid it between their bodies.
He deftly undid the hidden snaps and zips on Castiel's pants before undoing his own. Both their pants and underwear shoved down to mid-thigh, the press of flesh to flesh felt oh, so good. Dean wrapped his hand around Cas' dick. It may have been a very long while since Dean had been with a dude, but damn, just like riding a bike.
Dean loved the way Castiel squirmed under his hands. One on his dick and his other rhythmically clenching his feathers. Pulling out of another bone-melting kiss, Dean groaned, “Cas, touch me.”
“I don't... How...?” Castiel panted.
“Like this.” Dean instructed, demonstrating by gripping Cas tightly and slowly, so very slowly, dragging his hand up and down Cas' cock, smearing his thumb over the slick head when he reached it.
Castiel copied him and from the second Cas wrapped his hand around Dean; he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
He sped up his hands, determined to make Cas come first. Their pace was hot and frantic, hands moving up and down slickly, twisting here and there, sending intense sparks of pleasure radiating through each other.
Dean knew Cas was close when the Angel started trembling again, even before Cas expressed his surprise, “Dean! Oh, I feel...”
“Shh,” Dean coaxed him, “It's okay. Just let it happen.” Pulling Cas' mouth into another kiss.
The trembling increased until Castiel's body locked tight for a second before unfreezing to shudder and buck into Dean's touch. Dean felt warm come spilling onto his fist, slicking obscenely as he continued to stroke Cas through his orgasm.
When Castiel was done, breathing harshly, the Angel rested his forehead against Dean's, keeping their eyes locked together.
Castiel started to jerk Dean again, his grip having loosened when he came. It didn't take long, the sensations building higher and faster, Dean's hips thrusting and balls tightening until Dean's orgasm ripped through him like a punch. Dean came hard, biting out curses, thrusting and spurting into Castiel's hand.
The only sound in the bathroom was their uneven breathing as they both came down from their orgasm high, still wrapped around each other.
Castiel was the first to break the silence,
“It appears I am in need of another shower.” Dean thought for a second, a small realization dawning.
“Can't you just mojo yourself clean?” Dean asked.
What could be an almost cheeky smile played on Castiel's lips as he replied, “I calculated that doing so would be less enjoyable.” He looked Dean in the eye again before adding, “For both of us.”
A slow, lazy grin spread across Dean's face at Castiel's words.
“I like the way you think. Yeah, a shower sounds good.” Wet, naked Cas? That definitely sounded good to Dean.
“Do we have time?” Castiel asked as Dean pulled away.
“Think so.” Dean said, toeing off his boots, “What time is it?”
“4:45pm.” Castiel replied with most likely absolute accuracy.
Dean grinned again, shucking his jeans and boxers,
“Plenty of time. Sam won't back until six.” Stepping under the showerhead, Dean turned on the water. He threw a look over his shoulder to the Angel. “You comin'?”
Still smiling, Dean felt Cas step into the tub behind him, pressing against Dean's back. Yeah, just over an hour should be enough for a shower and maybe a little more.
And if it wasn't, Dean thought, turning to kiss Cas because he was allowed to now. If it wasn't enough time, he could always put a sock on the door.
Fin.