Blasphemy for spn_30snapshots
Title: Blasphemy
Author: verucasalt123
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel (one-sided Cas/Dean)
Claim: Theme 07: Get Your Kink On
Theme: http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/147817.html
Prompt(s): #23, Self Love
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These boys do not belong to me.
Summary: Castiel is beginning to understand that reference, for seolforan
With every intention of sharing news with his friends about their effort to stop the impending Apocalypse, Castiel popped into Singer Salvage Yard and started to turn toward the house.
He was stopped in his tracks when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Standing close by, but angled so that he didn’t see Castiel, Dean was hunched over the open hood of the Impala wearing a white t-shirt so soaked through with sweat that it was transparent. After a moment, Dean stood, stretching in such a manner that his shirt rode up a bit, exposing just less than two inches of skin above his jeans, just at his left hip.
Castiel didn’t have a full grasp of the feelings he’d recently developed toward Dean, but the physical reactions of his vessel were fairly clear. He’d almost recovered and started to make his presence known when he heard Dean loudly exclaim, “God DAMN it”, and throw a metal tool to the ground.
It was getting harder as time went on, his ability to fly taking more effort and moving him much shorter distances. But Dean’s blasphemy had, for some reason, intensified this…well, there was no getting around it, Castiel knew it was lust. He’d managed to extricate himself from the salvage yard and landed in the only place he felt safe these days: a cheap, random motel room off a two lane road in a small town.
Before he could stop himself, he gave in to the base instinct he’d been avoiding for some time and reached down to relieve himself of his trousers and briefs. Whether it was Dean’s descriptions of these acts or leftover sense memory from Jimmy Novak, Castiel knew, more or less, what to do. He started slowly, hesitating, resting his cock in his hand and stroking up and down without being entirely sure if he could even make this work.
That uncertainty only lasted a few moments, though, as the physical sensations overtook his reason. He started thrusting into his right hand, twisting his wrist a little every few strokes, letting his left fall down to cup his balls at the same time.
The room was spinning, Castiel could barely think as his brain was taken over with images and memories, Dean, Dean’s soaked through shirt, Dean’s skin, Dean’s loud cursing. It wasn’t long before he felt his balls draw up close to his body and for some unknown reason, he let one finger slip behind them, pressing softly at the skin there.
Suddenly, he felt what was left of his grace gather forcefully, realized that a light had burned out in the room, and registered the hot, slick presence of semen coating his hand.
Blinking slowly and understanding what he’d just done, he felt a sudden urge to utter his own blasphemy. He figured he’d done enough of that for today, though, as he moved to clean himself up and attempt to calm himself down.
He still had news to deliver in South Dakota, and he’d have to compose himself before he could go back there. Somehow, Castiel knew that though this may have been the first time he’d given in to his lust for Dean, it would certainly not be the last.
Author: verucasalt123
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel (one-sided Cas/Dean)
Claim: Theme 07: Get Your Kink On
Theme: http://verucasalt123.livejournal.com/147817.html
Prompt(s): #23, Self Love
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These boys do not belong to me.
Summary: Castiel is beginning to understand that reference, for seolforan
With every intention of sharing news with his friends about their effort to stop the impending Apocalypse, Castiel popped into Singer Salvage Yard and started to turn toward the house.
He was stopped in his tracks when he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Standing close by, but angled so that he didn’t see Castiel, Dean was hunched over the open hood of the Impala wearing a white t-shirt so soaked through with sweat that it was transparent. After a moment, Dean stood, stretching in such a manner that his shirt rode up a bit, exposing just less than two inches of skin above his jeans, just at his left hip.
Castiel didn’t have a full grasp of the feelings he’d recently developed toward Dean, but the physical reactions of his vessel were fairly clear. He’d almost recovered and started to make his presence known when he heard Dean loudly exclaim, “God DAMN it”, and throw a metal tool to the ground.
It was getting harder as time went on, his ability to fly taking more effort and moving him much shorter distances. But Dean’s blasphemy had, for some reason, intensified this…well, there was no getting around it, Castiel knew it was lust. He’d managed to extricate himself from the salvage yard and landed in the only place he felt safe these days: a cheap, random motel room off a two lane road in a small town.
Before he could stop himself, he gave in to the base instinct he’d been avoiding for some time and reached down to relieve himself of his trousers and briefs. Whether it was Dean’s descriptions of these acts or leftover sense memory from Jimmy Novak, Castiel knew, more or less, what to do. He started slowly, hesitating, resting his cock in his hand and stroking up and down without being entirely sure if he could even make this work.
That uncertainty only lasted a few moments, though, as the physical sensations overtook his reason. He started thrusting into his right hand, twisting his wrist a little every few strokes, letting his left fall down to cup his balls at the same time.
The room was spinning, Castiel could barely think as his brain was taken over with images and memories, Dean, Dean’s soaked through shirt, Dean’s skin, Dean’s loud cursing. It wasn’t long before he felt his balls draw up close to his body and for some unknown reason, he let one finger slip behind them, pressing softly at the skin there.
Suddenly, he felt what was left of his grace gather forcefully, realized that a light had burned out in the room, and registered the hot, slick presence of semen coating his hand.
Blinking slowly and understanding what he’d just done, he felt a sudden urge to utter his own blasphemy. He figured he’d done enough of that for today, though, as he moved to clean himself up and attempt to calm himself down.
He still had news to deliver in South Dakota, and he’d have to compose himself before he could go back there. Somehow, Castiel knew that though this may have been the first time he’d given in to his lust for Dean, it would certainly not be the last.