[The closet they're in had proved infuriatingly resistant to anything either of them could manage.
Honestly? At this point Crowley feels that he's being incredibly well-behaved simply by virtue of not tearing the Hunter's clothes off. He's so hard it's painful, absolutely maddening, and the closet is small enough to make not touching an exercise in frustration. It's fine, as long as they both sit still and don't move. But, as the minutes drag on, sitting still when you're shaking with arousal tends to not work out so well
( ... )
Dean's life is the hardest. :(righteous_broMarch 29 2012, 06:36:58 UTC
[This is actually the worst. Dean is only convinced that Crowley didn't do this by the virtue of Crowley looking uncomfortable, which means he must be really uncomfortable, because Dean knows how much he cares about keeping up appearances.
As it stands, he's hornier than he's been in years and every time Crowley moves, his brain finds an erotic way to interpret that. Forget the touching, because that just sends his body into a heatwave. This is bullshit.
Dean's not even sure what that stupid timer means. For all he knows, it's for a bomb and they don't want it to hit zero anyway, so what's the harm in touching if it will scratch the fucking itch he's got right now?
Dean's breath catches when he sees how close Crowley is. He smells like vanilla with a hint of something musky and it's really not unpleasant at all. In fact, everything about Crowley is pretty pleasant if you ask him. For now, he kind of just stares at Crowley like an incredibly horny deer caught in headlights.]
Re: Dean's life is the hardest. :(soulkinkMarch 29 2012, 06:45:44 UTC
[And so Crowley kisses him. Because Dean's not saying stop, not making snarky comments about how he's unattractive, or he doesn't do men or demons or anything else that seems to find it's way onto the Hunter's tongue.
There are fingers in Dean's short hair and Crowley's tugging his head back as he seals their mouths together. It's not exactly gentle, but he needs this too much to be gentle, and it's not as if anything between them has ever been gentle. Certainly not the way they talk, the way they bait and switch from threats to sexual innuendo, the way that Crowley always waits for Dean to get hurt before helping out, the way that sometimes he licks his lips and leans too close and looks too long at the red streaks and bruises on Dean's skin.
He moans against his lips, and it was supposed to stop there but it's so hot and so good that it feels like something he thinks he could drown beneath.]
[Normally Dean would be saying all of those things, but right now he's far too busy grabbing at Crowley and kissing back like his life depends on it. He only half means any of them, anyway. He'd be lying if he said that the way Crowley always looks at him doesn't raise his body temperature just a little.
The kiss is biting, bruising and hard, and if he thought that kissing Crowley might relieve whatever this is, he was wrong, because the kissing is only making it worse. Fuck, he needs to feel more. He needs to feel so much more than this.
He grabs Crowley's tie, pulling him as close as he can and biting at the demon's lips.]
[Crowley only ever half believes them, for the record. Sometimes less than that. For now, however, all he's focusing on is how Dean is grabbing at him and kissing him back like this is essential, and while it doesn't fix a damned thing, all Crowley can do is groan and kiss him harder. The kiss isn't gentle on either side, nipping and scraping and leaving their lips flushed and bruised from the pressure
( ... )
[If Dean is kissing Crowley like it is essential, that's only because it is. He needs this like he's needed nothing else in his life.
He lets out a sharp breath when he feels Crowley's fingers on his skin. It's like heat is creeping over him and he's already so overheated, but he needs more. He tugs at the knot in Crowley's tie, pulling it loose but still keeping a grip on it.
He can feel Crowley's erection pressing into his thigh and he shifts his leg to press into it. He never would have expected to be in any kind of situation like this, but now that he's here, he can't help going with it. His body is aching for every touch he can get.]
[Crowley's moaning against Dean's lips, can feel him unwork the knot of his tie, but his fingers don't let go, still keeping the demon close against his body. Not that Crowley would pull away; can at this point. His hips jerk as Dean's leg presses into his erection, slowly grinding himself into that point of friction because he's so hot but he needs so much more.
His hands are rubbing up Dean's chest, flicking at his nipples as he shoves his shirt up with the back of his hands, trying to urge it off of the Hunter, even if it hasn't quite sunk through that lust-addled haze that he's going to need to stop kissing Dean if he expects that shirt to come off.
He can't think clearly, just know he needs more, needs to feel Dean. Crawling over him, wantonly rubbing against him as he's all but straddling the man's lap. His pupils are blown, only a thin ring of amber hazel keeping him from looking like the demon he is; though his eyes were never black.]
[God, this is so embarrassing. Dean's not even sure if he likes Crowley and now he's rutting against him like some horny, desperate teenager. The only saving grace about the situation is that Crowley seems to be just as desperate.
Dean reaches a new level of embarrassment when Crowley's fingers brush over his nipples and lets out a desperate, breathy whine. The feeling goes straight to his cock and he can't even help the way his hips jerk against Crowley.
It's getting pretty hard to stand up like this, but the idea of stopping, even for a second, is unbearable.]
[That noise? Crowley likes it, likes it a lot. Likes it enough to pull his mouth away from Dean's with a whine of his own, only to fasten his lips around the bud of one of Dean's nipples. Suction paired to the lap of his tongue, a nip of teeth as his other hand tugged at it, rolling it between his fingertips with a faint hint of nails.
His other hand slipped from Dean's hair and went to the small of his back, pulling him closer, rubbing their erections together. He moaned against skin, mouth kissing, licking a trail to the other nub, his fingers toying with the saliva-slick peak. His hand at Dean's back finally slipping to unfasten Dean's denims, Crowley's hips refusing to pull away from the hunter's body. Their bodies grinding together like teens at a school dance.
Crowley wasn't smooth, wasn't raised eyebrows and cool mocking tones, there was nothing but wanton need, no control. And he couldn't even manage to care.]
[Dean's head tipped back, mouth falling open in a loud moan. His nerves were on fire. It was like an electrical current was running through him, going straight down to his cock. If it was even possible for him to get harder, he did.
He arched in Crowley's hold, pressing into every touch and bucking his hips. He moaned again when he felt Crowley's hands on his pants. He finally started to get with the program and pulled his shirt up the rest of the way and over his head before reaching for the buttons of Crowley's.
His fingers fumbled and shook as he tried to focus on it.] Shit. Fuck.
[Crowley's hands shoved Dean's pants down to the hunter's knees, fingers coming back up to trail over the length of his cock. And he wanted, needed to feel it, taste it, wanton desire for the man under his fingers. He'd always wanted Dean; attraction under the belittling quips they tossed back and forth, he'd meant the perversions he let drip from his lips or his eyes to unsettle the man
( ... )
[Dean would be lying if he claimed that no part of him had wanted this. Some small part of him had always wanted the things that Crowley said to be more than jokes. It was probably more than a little messed up, but the idea of it was kinda hot, even if most of him would never even touch that thought.
And holy shit Crowley was going down on his knees in front of him. That was... that was a nice sight; Powerful demon going down on his knees for Dean like that.
He braced himself against the wall, one hand going to Crowley's head. He fisted at the short hairs and pulled the demon closer, rocking his hips. It was rough and messy, but Crowley wasn't human and Dean knew he wasn't really hurting him. ]
[This was good. Dean's fingers grabbing in his hair, pulling him closer, hips thrusting into Crowley's mouth, and the demon was taking it, swallowing him down with fluttered eyelashes. He wasn't human, didn't need it sweet and soft and gentle like the girls that he picked up from bars. Crowley liked it rough, liked the way that Dean was shoving his cock to hit the back of his throat
( ... )
[Dean slid down the wall a few inches and gripped tighter at Crowley's hair. Fuck, the demon was good at this. This was possibly one of the most skilled blowjobs he'd ever had, not that he was going to tell Crowley that.
He moaned when he felt himself sliding further into Crowley's mouth, felt his throat relax around Dean's dick. That took some impressive skill. He kept his hips moving, trying to hold Crowley in place and fuck his mouth.
He didn't even notice that Crowley was touching himself, didn't really care. All that mattered was that he was going to get off and he was going to use Crowley to do it.]
[His hand tugging his pants open, curling fingers around his own aching flesh as Dean's fingers grasped at the strands of his hair, hips rocking against the demon's lips.
There were hot gasps, whines muffles into the slick girth of Dean's cock, Crowley letting the hunter slide down his throat, bright hazels almost consumed by his pupils looking up, watching him. Liked this? Yes. Even more than he might otherwise, something about Dean, something about the fingers in his hair, the way his hips rocked into the demon's lips, the way his voice rasped low that sultry demand to stay like that.
And he did. That one hand clutching at Dean's hip, pulling him closer, his throat flexing around him, trying to get him off. Needed it, seething with heat and it felt like salvation.]
[Every noise that Crowley made only urged Dean on more. He could feel every vibration before he heard the sound.
He looked down into Crowley's eyes and fuck if that look didn't push him just a little closer to the edge. The demon was getting off on sucking his cock and that was hot in and of itself. It was like he was desperate for Dean's cock, hungry for it, and who was Dean to refuse him, really?
Still, Dean was close and he wasn't a total asshole, even to Crowley.] 'M really close.
Honestly? At this point Crowley feels that he's being incredibly well-behaved simply by virtue of not tearing the Hunter's clothes off. He's so hard it's painful, absolutely maddening, and the closet is small enough to make not touching an exercise in frustration. It's fine, as long as they both sit still and don't move. But, as the minutes drag on, sitting still when you're shaking with arousal tends to not work out so well ( ... )
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As it stands, he's hornier than he's been in years and every time Crowley moves, his brain finds an erotic way to interpret that. Forget the touching, because that just sends his body into a heatwave. This is bullshit.
Dean's not even sure what that stupid timer means. For all he knows, it's for a bomb and they don't want it to hit zero anyway, so what's the harm in touching if it will scratch the fucking itch he's got right now?
Dean's breath catches when he sees how close Crowley is. He smells like vanilla with a hint of something musky and it's really not unpleasant at all. In fact, everything about Crowley is pretty pleasant if you ask him. For now, he kind of just stares at Crowley like an incredibly horny deer caught in headlights.]
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There are fingers in Dean's short hair and Crowley's tugging his head back as he seals their mouths together. It's not exactly gentle, but he needs this too much to be gentle, and it's not as if anything between them has ever been gentle. Certainly not the way they talk, the way they bait and switch from threats to sexual innuendo, the way that Crowley always waits for Dean to get hurt before helping out, the way that sometimes he licks his lips and leans too close and looks too long at the red streaks and bruises on Dean's skin.
He moans against his lips, and it was supposed to stop there but it's so hot and so good that it feels like something he thinks he could drown beneath.]
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The kiss is biting, bruising and hard, and if he thought that kissing Crowley might relieve whatever this is, he was wrong, because the kissing is only making it worse. Fuck, he needs to feel more. He needs to feel so much more than this.
He grabs Crowley's tie, pulling him as close as he can and biting at the demon's lips.]
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He lets out a sharp breath when he feels Crowley's fingers on his skin. It's like heat is creeping over him and he's already so overheated, but he needs more. He tugs at the knot in Crowley's tie, pulling it loose but still keeping a grip on it.
He can feel Crowley's erection pressing into his thigh and he shifts his leg to press into it. He never would have expected to be in any kind of situation like this, but now that he's here, he can't help going with it. His body is aching for every touch he can get.]
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His hands are rubbing up Dean's chest, flicking at his nipples as he shoves his shirt up with the back of his hands, trying to urge it off of the Hunter, even if it hasn't quite sunk through that lust-addled haze that he's going to need to stop kissing Dean if he expects that shirt to come off.
He can't think clearly, just know he needs more, needs to feel Dean. Crawling over him, wantonly rubbing against him as he's all but straddling the man's lap. His pupils are blown, only a thin ring of amber hazel keeping him from looking like the demon he is; though his eyes were never black.]
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Dean reaches a new level of embarrassment when Crowley's fingers brush over his nipples and lets out a desperate, breathy whine. The feeling goes straight to his cock and he can't even help the way his hips jerk against Crowley.
It's getting pretty hard to stand up like this, but the idea of stopping, even for a second, is unbearable.]
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His other hand slipped from Dean's hair and went to the small of his back, pulling him closer, rubbing their erections together. He moaned against skin, mouth kissing, licking a trail to the other nub, his fingers toying with the saliva-slick peak. His hand at Dean's back finally slipping to unfasten Dean's denims, Crowley's hips refusing to pull away from the hunter's body. Their bodies grinding together like teens at a school dance.
Crowley wasn't smooth, wasn't raised eyebrows and cool mocking tones, there was nothing but wanton need, no control. And he couldn't even manage to care.]
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He arched in Crowley's hold, pressing into every touch and bucking his hips. He moaned again when he felt Crowley's hands on his pants. He finally started to get with the program and pulled his shirt up the rest of the way and over his head before reaching for the buttons of Crowley's.
His fingers fumbled and shook as he tried to focus on it.] Shit. Fuck.
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And holy shit Crowley was going down on his knees in front of him. That was... that was a nice sight; Powerful demon going down on his knees for Dean like that.
He braced himself against the wall, one hand going to Crowley's head. He fisted at the short hairs and pulled the demon closer, rocking his hips. It was rough and messy, but Crowley wasn't human and Dean knew he wasn't really hurting him. ]
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He moaned when he felt himself sliding further into Crowley's mouth, felt his throat relax around Dean's dick. That took some impressive skill. He kept his hips moving, trying to hold Crowley in place and fuck his mouth.
He didn't even notice that Crowley was touching himself, didn't really care. All that mattered was that he was going to get off and he was going to use Crowley to do it.]
Yeah... just stay like that.
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There were hot gasps, whines muffles into the slick girth of Dean's cock, Crowley letting the hunter slide down his throat, bright hazels almost consumed by his pupils looking up, watching him. Liked this? Yes. Even more than he might otherwise, something about Dean, something about the fingers in his hair, the way his hips rocked into the demon's lips, the way his voice rasped low that sultry demand to stay like that.
And he did. That one hand clutching at Dean's hip, pulling him closer, his throat flexing around him, trying to get him off. Needed it, seething with heat and it felt like salvation.]
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He looked down into Crowley's eyes and fuck if that look didn't push him just a little closer to the edge. The demon was getting off on sucking his cock and that was hot in and of itself. It was like he was desperate for Dean's cock, hungry for it, and who was Dean to refuse him, really?
Still, Dean was close and he wasn't a total asshole, even to Crowley.] 'M really close.
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