[ficlet] India (Supernatural; Destiel)
"Untitled"
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Destiel; india
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His nose was filled with so many different scents - spices, Cas, dust, Cas, miscellaneous animals, Cas, exotic flowers and fruits, cas cas cas - that he wasn’t sure he was completely sober anymore. Actually, he was absolutely certain he was at least halfway drunk on the scent of cinnamon and hay on Cas’ skin, in Cas’ hair, the flavour of curry and fresh fruit on Cas’ fingers in his mouth; it was like the angel was absorbing the countries he visited or something, and Dean couldn’t wait to add his own flavour and scent to the mix, because he hated it, he fucking hated it when Castiel left on his quest to find God, hated it when he came back and smelled differently, hated the unfamiliar feeling when the scent of gun oil and Dean’s aftershave had faded from his skin and hair.
Dean was determined to make it stick this time, for at least a little longer, and he pressed closer, ran his hands over every available part of Cas’ skin, spit into his palm before reaching down and wrapping it around Cas’ hard cock, pumping it two times, three, before sinking to his knees and letting his lips follow his hand, humming happily at the onslaught of pure Cas-scent, untarnished by his travels, wholly and completely as he remembered it. Dean smiled around the thick length in his mouth; this would always be his, no matter where Castiel went to try and find his father, this would never belong to anyone else, not even to God, this would be for him alone.
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Destiel; india
---
His nose was filled with so many different scents - spices, Cas, dust, Cas, miscellaneous animals, Cas, exotic flowers and fruits, cas cas cas - that he wasn’t sure he was completely sober anymore. Actually, he was absolutely certain he was at least halfway drunk on the scent of cinnamon and hay on Cas’ skin, in Cas’ hair, the flavour of curry and fresh fruit on Cas’ fingers in his mouth; it was like the angel was absorbing the countries he visited or something, and Dean couldn’t wait to add his own flavour and scent to the mix, because he hated it, he fucking hated it when Castiel left on his quest to find God, hated it when he came back and smelled differently, hated the unfamiliar feeling when the scent of gun oil and Dean’s aftershave had faded from his skin and hair.
Dean was determined to make it stick this time, for at least a little longer, and he pressed closer, ran his hands over every available part of Cas’ skin, spit into his palm before reaching down and wrapping it around Cas’ hard cock, pumping it two times, three, before sinking to his knees and letting his lips follow his hand, humming happily at the onslaught of pure Cas-scent, untarnished by his travels, wholly and completely as he remembered it. Dean smiled around the thick length in his mouth; this would always be his, no matter where Castiel went to try and find his father, this would never belong to anyone else, not even to God, this would be for him alone.