Kiss With a Fist
Sometimes Dean wondered how he ever got into situations like this. Sometimes, it was either dumb luck, bad luck, or just a series of very unfortunate events. Yet, here he was, and through his drunken haze he knew he wasn't touching soft curves or gentle features, but instead hard muscle and a lean, toned body that he would never quite remember the feel of, come morning, but it would linger in the back of his mind as that one Big Mistake and That One Time, and he didn't know yet if that was going to be a good thing or a bad thing.
Neither of them was gentle, Kai Leng was downright brutal with some of the things he did, and Dean wondered if the bite on his shoulder muscle was bloodied or not. He wouldn't be surprised if it was. He huffed out a rough breath as they pulled and pushed at each other. It was like another of their fights. Catharic and vicious and everything they each needed, just to get out the sea of emotions neither of them ever let out otherwise.
Dean's hands tugged at Kai Leng and he would hate himself come morning but there was no way he was going to waste time fighting. He just wanted it, wanted the pain it would cause and the strung out madness it would leave him with, and every bit of him thrummed with pleasure and desperation.
Kai's smirk was nearly smug, but he was far too drunk to care about much at that moment. He was downright mad himself, he was certain of it, because this arrogant, too-tall American jerk was someone he'd sooner headbutt than give head to, but here he was, and while he wasn't giving head it was certainly enough to either of them as he slid between Dean's legs.
The ragged breathing and the hard motions were what they both craved, something painful and so good and it was insane for them to do it but there was enough alcohol and their inhibitions were lost. It was a screaming fight to the end, with grunts and pulled hair, and curses, and anger, neither of them giving the other a chance to get the upper hand, even with roles set as they were.
By the time it was over, neither said a word as they both passed out, but as the sun rose outside, and the noise of the day came into earshot, Dean stirred with what only could be described as horror.
Leng's hand rose to cover his eyes and he groaned irritably, rolling over to turn away from the sunlight. There, he was met with the sight of pale, freckled skin and a horrified man in his bed. He wasn't exactly pleased himself.
"This never happened," Dean huffed out quickly and Kai snorted as he pushed up on his hands, getting himself somewhat upright before his head gave the worst pound it could possibly have given.
Dean eyed him and shook off his own hangover more easily, raked at his face with exhaustion and tried to breathe steadily.
"It's not like I wanted it either, duck."
Dean shot him a look that could be described only as livid, and scrambled for his pants. That was it. No more drinking with this guy. No way in Hell was he going to get to this point again, he told himself firmly.
Three weeks later, with a similar ache in his lower back, Dean cursed under his breath as he woke up in the same place, the same guy next to him, and fuck this wasn't supposed to happen!
Neither of them was gentle, Kai Leng was downright brutal with some of the things he did, and Dean wondered if the bite on his shoulder muscle was bloodied or not. He wouldn't be surprised if it was. He huffed out a rough breath as they pulled and pushed at each other. It was like another of their fights. Catharic and vicious and everything they each needed, just to get out the sea of emotions neither of them ever let out otherwise.
Dean's hands tugged at Kai Leng and he would hate himself come morning but there was no way he was going to waste time fighting. He just wanted it, wanted the pain it would cause and the strung out madness it would leave him with, and every bit of him thrummed with pleasure and desperation.
Kai's smirk was nearly smug, but he was far too drunk to care about much at that moment. He was downright mad himself, he was certain of it, because this arrogant, too-tall American jerk was someone he'd sooner headbutt than give head to, but here he was, and while he wasn't giving head it was certainly enough to either of them as he slid between Dean's legs.
The ragged breathing and the hard motions were what they both craved, something painful and so good and it was insane for them to do it but there was enough alcohol and their inhibitions were lost. It was a screaming fight to the end, with grunts and pulled hair, and curses, and anger, neither of them giving the other a chance to get the upper hand, even with roles set as they were.
By the time it was over, neither said a word as they both passed out, but as the sun rose outside, and the noise of the day came into earshot, Dean stirred with what only could be described as horror.
Leng's hand rose to cover his eyes and he groaned irritably, rolling over to turn away from the sunlight. There, he was met with the sight of pale, freckled skin and a horrified man in his bed. He wasn't exactly pleased himself.
"This never happened," Dean huffed out quickly and Kai snorted as he pushed up on his hands, getting himself somewhat upright before his head gave the worst pound it could possibly have given.
Dean eyed him and shook off his own hangover more easily, raked at his face with exhaustion and tried to breathe steadily.
"It's not like I wanted it either, duck."
Dean shot him a look that could be described only as livid, and scrambled for his pants. That was it. No more drinking with this guy. No way in Hell was he going to get to this point again, he told himself firmly.
Three weeks later, with a similar ache in his lower back, Dean cursed under his breath as he woke up in the same place, the same guy next to him, and fuck this wasn't supposed to happen!