[ficlet] Untitled (Supernatural; Wincestiel)
"Untitled"
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Wincestiel; the kitchen
Note: Two people asked for Wincestiel kitchen!sex, and I'm feeling bad I wasn't quite able to deliver, I'm sorry :(
---
In the end, it had been Dean who suggested they settled down and got what he called a “home base”. Sam rolled his eyes and claimed Dean was just too proud to admit he was getting too old for stringy motel beds. Cas silently agreed that it was long overdue that they stopped spending every day in a car travelling from one place to another. If they needed to get somewhere far away from their “home base”, Cas could just relocate them for the day. Simple as that.
Of course, with Dean’s dislike for flying, even when flying too fast for him to even register that it was happening, that meant that upon buying their house, Dean mostly retired from hunting all together. Not that he didn’t still help out on cases, but he helped out in the same way Bobby had used to help out, gathering information and checking facts, taking calls and lying to the police. The Winchester library held an impressive collection of lore books and old hunter journals, as well as notes that they had collected themselves.
In between hunts, they still had to eat and stay warm, and seeing as staying in once place made it pretty easy for people to find you when you’d pulled one credit card fraud too many, and so Dean ended up getting a job at the local garage, taking shifts only when he was sure Sam and Cas wouldn’t need backup on a case.
So when Sam called him first thing in the morning to tell him they were all but wrapped up, probably returning home sometime that afternoon, Dean had proceeded to call and hear if there was anything for him to do at work, gotten the happy confirmation that yes, they actually could do with his help, could he come by around nine? and proceeded into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee before leaving. He was just about to sit down at the table and pick up the first of the papers in the massive pile of their numerous subscriptions - gotta keep up with all of America’s hauntings after all - when a rush of wind knocked the paper from his hand and scattered the rest of them across the kitchen floor.
Sam and Cas were standing at the far side of the table, hands and arms and legs and tongues completely tangled, until Sam gasped and pulled back, casting a quick look around them, spotting Dean as he sat, dumbstruck, with his coffee forgotten in front of him, staring at the two of them.
“What the hell?” Dean asked, blinking.
“Cas, dammit, warn a guy before doing that, would ya?” Sam grumbled, moving away from Castiel, whose hair was mussed where Sam’s fingers had just been digging into his scalp, lips red and swollen from kissing. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t let go of the hard grip he had Sam’s collar in.
“My apologies, Sam, I thought it’d be more satisfactory to include Dean in our celebrations. More fair as well, seeing as his intell on this case was more than helpful to us.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at that. Intell, huh? More like he’d done all the fucking work - he hated doing research and they all knew it - and they’d gotten to play the heroes, save the day, get the girl. Or each other, more like, by the looks of it.
“So, was there anything else you needed help with…?” he prompted, eyes raking up and down both their bodies, taking in the state of their clothes - messy - and faces - flushed, directing a pointed look at their mid sections. Castiel smiled as Dean, removing his hand from Sam’s shirt to extend it towards Dean.
“I didn’t think it fair, Dean, to celebrate the success of a case without one of the vital actors there to take part,” he explained, voice light, as if he saw absolutely nothing odd about popping in for a fuck in the middle of a kitchen, in the middle of the morning, to disturb a guy’s breakfast, when two seconds ago, he’d been well across the country, making out with the guy’s brother.
Then again, it wasn’t like it was the first time.
“Damn straight it’s not fair,” Dean growled, getting up from his seat and striding over to his brother and his angel, pushing himself into the space between them, grinding himself back against Sam’s clothed cock as he claimed Cas’ lips with his own. “Just, uh, I gotta be at work in two hours.”
“We’ll make sure you’re there on time,” Sam promised, murmuring into the space behind Dean’s ear, his tongue darting out to lick against the shell of it, making Dean humm contentedly into Cas’ mouth.
“Also, no one’s fucking me, I still gotta be able to sit and stand properly if I’m going out in public,” Dean added, as Cas reached down to undo his belt buckle and fly with deft fingers.
“Don’t worry, Dean,” the angel said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, before sinking down to his knees on the kitchen floor. “I can always heal you afterwards if there’s any remaining discomfort.”
by exorcistor
Fandom: Supernatural
People/pairings: Destiel
Rating: mature
Prompt: Wincestiel; the kitchen
Note: Two people asked for Wincestiel kitchen!sex, and I'm feeling bad I wasn't quite able to deliver, I'm sorry :(
---
In the end, it had been Dean who suggested they settled down and got what he called a “home base”. Sam rolled his eyes and claimed Dean was just too proud to admit he was getting too old for stringy motel beds. Cas silently agreed that it was long overdue that they stopped spending every day in a car travelling from one place to another. If they needed to get somewhere far away from their “home base”, Cas could just relocate them for the day. Simple as that.
Of course, with Dean’s dislike for flying, even when flying too fast for him to even register that it was happening, that meant that upon buying their house, Dean mostly retired from hunting all together. Not that he didn’t still help out on cases, but he helped out in the same way Bobby had used to help out, gathering information and checking facts, taking calls and lying to the police. The Winchester library held an impressive collection of lore books and old hunter journals, as well as notes that they had collected themselves.
In between hunts, they still had to eat and stay warm, and seeing as staying in once place made it pretty easy for people to find you when you’d pulled one credit card fraud too many, and so Dean ended up getting a job at the local garage, taking shifts only when he was sure Sam and Cas wouldn’t need backup on a case.
So when Sam called him first thing in the morning to tell him they were all but wrapped up, probably returning home sometime that afternoon, Dean had proceeded to call and hear if there was anything for him to do at work, gotten the happy confirmation that yes, they actually could do with his help, could he come by around nine? and proceeded into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee before leaving. He was just about to sit down at the table and pick up the first of the papers in the massive pile of their numerous subscriptions - gotta keep up with all of America’s hauntings after all - when a rush of wind knocked the paper from his hand and scattered the rest of them across the kitchen floor.
Sam and Cas were standing at the far side of the table, hands and arms and legs and tongues completely tangled, until Sam gasped and pulled back, casting a quick look around them, spotting Dean as he sat, dumbstruck, with his coffee forgotten in front of him, staring at the two of them.
“What the hell?” Dean asked, blinking.
“Cas, dammit, warn a guy before doing that, would ya?” Sam grumbled, moving away from Castiel, whose hair was mussed where Sam’s fingers had just been digging into his scalp, lips red and swollen from kissing. Cas, on the other hand, didn’t let go of the hard grip he had Sam’s collar in.
“My apologies, Sam, I thought it’d be more satisfactory to include Dean in our celebrations. More fair as well, seeing as his intell on this case was more than helpful to us.”
Dean raised an eyebrow at that. Intell, huh? More like he’d done all the fucking work - he hated doing research and they all knew it - and they’d gotten to play the heroes, save the day, get the girl. Or each other, more like, by the looks of it.
“So, was there anything else you needed help with…?” he prompted, eyes raking up and down both their bodies, taking in the state of their clothes - messy - and faces - flushed, directing a pointed look at their mid sections. Castiel smiled as Dean, removing his hand from Sam’s shirt to extend it towards Dean.
“I didn’t think it fair, Dean, to celebrate the success of a case without one of the vital actors there to take part,” he explained, voice light, as if he saw absolutely nothing odd about popping in for a fuck in the middle of a kitchen, in the middle of the morning, to disturb a guy’s breakfast, when two seconds ago, he’d been well across the country, making out with the guy’s brother.
Then again, it wasn’t like it was the first time.
“Damn straight it’s not fair,” Dean growled, getting up from his seat and striding over to his brother and his angel, pushing himself into the space between them, grinding himself back against Sam’s clothed cock as he claimed Cas’ lips with his own. “Just, uh, I gotta be at work in two hours.”
“We’ll make sure you’re there on time,” Sam promised, murmuring into the space behind Dean’s ear, his tongue darting out to lick against the shell of it, making Dean humm contentedly into Cas’ mouth.
“Also, no one’s fucking me, I still gotta be able to sit and stand properly if I’m going out in public,” Dean added, as Cas reached down to undo his belt buckle and fly with deft fingers.
“Don’t worry, Dean,” the angel said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, before sinking down to his knees on the kitchen floor. “I can always heal you afterwards if there’s any remaining discomfort.”