[ that's as predictable as anything else, isn't it? he places one hand on dean's wrist to hold it there, mouth damp where his thumb is still pressed. ]
Actually, I bought something on our way out of Tikal.
[ it was on a whim, really— but they had to pack supplies for the trip, enough food to keep them for the few days it would take to get there by foot (since dean wasn't willing to let him fly them both except for a few short, treacherous stretches, and even if he had been they still would have had to stop to eat).
castiel takes his bag from his waistband without breaking eye contact, pulling the drawstring open and reaching inside to feel around until he brings out a small, glass bottle. in this light, it's difficult to tell what's inside, but if dean holds it up after cas passes it over to him, he'll see that it's filled with a pale yellow oil.
he was thinking ahead. perhaps it was presumptuous— he was a little embarrassed when he got it, and he's a little embarrassed now. an angel shouldn't be thinking so much of these things.
but they both know he's never been a good angel, so what does it matter? ]
[ he wonders if dean has ever done this before. taken someone out behind a bar and... but he finds he doesn't like to think about that right now. there's a thrill to having dean's attention that's dampened when he considers how many others have had it.
he has to stay in the moment.
he keeps his gaze level. like he's waiting. and then he pops the button on dean's fly, and waits to see what he'll do. ]
[ it probably isn't the first time he's done something like this, fucked someone up against a wall, but it's the first time it's been with someone who means anything to him.
Dean relaxes a little, glances around and once he's satisfied there's no one, he fixes his eyes back on Cas and nods, giving him the permission he wants. ]
[ he sounds relieved, and something in his expression relaxes— when dean gives him permission, he grabs the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and pulls it down. he pauses here, feeling his own cock fill out in his loincloth, which does in fact hide absolutely nothing. it's not really the best garment for being covert.
then he slips his hand into the open v of dean's jeans and palms him through his shorts, the heat of him bleeding through the thin fabric. ]
[ it's not a good garment, fucking point blank period, Dean hates that goddamn thing, hates how people look at Cas while he's wearing it, hates how much of that pretty body is on display for other people.
Dean's in his normal people jeans, hot and a little sweaty but he's comfortable; he's not the kind of person who particularly wants his body on display to the rest of the world. Intimate situations, sure. But all means, let him strip down and dance like Magic Mike.
But this is... pieces of him, parts of himself he only shares with the people he chooses, and maybe that's what's important about all this, the reason he digs his heels in, doesn't want to throw everything he is on display. He wants a choice, for once, and while Cas is fine showing off his ding dong to God and Jesus and the Devil, Dean isn't. And he chooses not to do so, and if Cas chooses to do it, well.
Dean doesn't have to like it, but it ain't his business, is it.
He drops a hand, slides his hand through Cas' hair with a suppressed groan, nails dragging over his scalp, head tipping back to rest against the wall with a soft thump. ]
[ he watches dean, the way he moves, the way his muscles shift under his shirt, and feels a tug through his gut. it's a strange feeling, not because it's unfamiliar. but because it isn't. it's just that until now he hadn't recognized what it really was: want.
he licks his lips, wetting them again, and sighs at the weight and the sensation of dean's hands in his hair. he sways toward him and reaches up to his waistband, carefully pulling it down his hips until his cock springs free, completely unashamed in his staring. it doesn't matter that the daylight is waning, his eyes see everything he wants to see.
the side of his thumb traces along the shaft, and he leans in to put his wet mouth to the tip, eyes sliding shut for a brief moment— the world tilts precariously when he does, the center coming unmoored, reminding him of just how much alcohol he drank back at the bar. forty shots on a lark. he wonders if dean is impressed with him for that, or for this, and parts his lips to take a little of him into his mouth, sucking gently before he eases back and opens his eyes to look up at him again. ]
It's not fair that I'm missing two senses. I'm never gonna get to know what you taste like.
[ Dean's hands stay gentle, smoothing through Cas' hair and down his cheeks, thumbs under his eyes as his cock is freed. It's not the most dignified thing, having your dick standing at attention and waving in the breeze, but Cas doesn't seem to mind, just looks at Dean like he hung the moon and something in Dean's chest catches, jerks under his skin, the only sound a gasp in the moonlight.
He doesn't know why he doesn't expect that warm, wet mouth on his dick - Cas is right there on his knees in front of him with those pretty lips Dean dreams about kissing, dim street lights reflecting off his face and casting flickering shadows over his body, the moment ethereal and soft.
Cas' mouth is divine, heaven made human, slick and warm and wet, shiver rolling down his spine, grip tight in dark hair. ]
[ it's just the way things are. he is what he is, and dean is what he is— wonderfully human. they wouldn't be doing this if he weren't. his eyelashes flutter, catching the glow from the torches lighting the main street, and he leans in again to take dean back into his mouth. the touch of his tongue is gentle. they're both aware he doesn't know how to do this, so to begin with it's all exploratory— he sits with his hands folded on his knees, gazing up at dean as he takes him deeper, little by little. jaw adjusting, lips stretching to accommodate him. ]
[ It's hot, having Cas swallow his dick and look up at him like that, take every piece of Dean that he can, inch by inch. ]
You, uh—
[ He shifts, forcing his head off the concrete, looking down at Cas with bright eyes, cheeks flushed, a hand slipping from Cas' hair down to his cheek. ]
[ he makes a sound in the back of his throat and complies, hesitating just a breath before he places both hands on dean's knees and draws them upward over his thighs, feeling out the strong muscle there, the tension holding him upright; he thinks he knows where dean wants him to touch, though, and cups his balls in one hand, squeezing the base of his dick with the other, still looking up at him— like he's waiting for confirmation that this is the right thing to do. ]
[ anywhere, honestly. Dean just wants Cas' hands on him somewhere, wants the connection, wants to feel skin on skin and wet mouth on his cock. He groans, thumbing Cas' cheek and temple, giving Cas a brief nod. Yes, this is good, it's really good.
And it's so hot he isn't sure how long he's going to last if Cas keeps that up. ]
[ well, he doesn't want dean finishing before they've even started, but he still doesn't stop— sliding down to take the rest of him into his mouth like he's done this enough times to know how to control his gag reflex. which, he hasn't. he just doesn't need to know. the head of dean's cock drags against his soft palate and hits the back of his throat and he swallows reflexivly, eyelashes fluttering, fingers squeezing where they're holding him. his mouth waters, and he swallows around him, wondering at the taste, what it would be like. ]
[ It comes out a wrecked noise, cock twitching, hips jerking, fingers against Cas' face sliding into his hair, tangling his fingers in it, gripping tight. ]
[ ah. that's his signal to back off, he thinks. see, he can play this by ear and still be okay at it— castiel eases off slowly, a string of spit connecting his damp bottom lip to the tip of dean's cock before it snaps. he draws his tongue across his mouth and glances back up at dean. just looking, for a moment. taking in the sight of him, the way he looks in this light.
[ a thrill rushes up through his stomach, and he moves around dean toward the sheer stone wall just in front of him. he watches him for a moment, eyes flickering down from his face over the length of his body, his flushed cock hanging out from the open v of his jeans that he opened. this is his doing, he thinks, and feels a thrill of both pride and trepidation for speeding the trajectory of this thing between them, this new form their relationship has taken.
he's been changing, and it's been changing with him. but at its center, it's still the same creature.
[ The glisten of precum, the flush, the hardness of him - all Cas' doing. Dean's cheeks are pink, freckles standing out, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. ]
Just like that, yes.
[ Dean presses behind him, hands dropping to Cas' hips before sliding them to fumble with the loincloth Cas insists on wearing, tugging at it to get it out of the way. ]
[ castiel licks his lips, a knot of tension tightening in the small of his back, something light and fluttery doing circuits in his stomach as dean reaches to pull the loincloth aside. his fingers are cool where they brush the curve of his ass, his skin burning hot. a shaky breath escapes him, hands shifting against the wall while his anticipation and trepidation both mount. ]
[ He teases up, fingers slick from the oil Cas gave him, teasing at
him before gripping himself in his hand and pressing his cockhead right
against the seam. ]
This what you want?
[ His lips are by Cas' ear, chest plastered up against his back.
It's damn sure what Dean wants. ]
[ castiel stops, nods. he shivers at the touch of dean's fingers, the touch of his cock, the muscles in his shoulders knotting, and sinks his teeth int his bottom lip. then he closes his eyes and opens his mouth. even in this light, he's sure that dean can see him, but— ]
[ It takes nothing for Dean to thrust hom, bury himself in Cas, in
his friend, in the person he's become so intimate with, so deeply connected
to. There's something stirring there, something he doesn't understand,
hasn't felt in...
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
def turning nsfw up in here
Fuck. ]
Do you care?
🍆💦
[ that's as predictable as anything else, isn't it? he places one hand on dean's wrist to hold it there, mouth damp where his thumb is still pressed. ]
I'll stop if you ask me.
🍑
[ his heart speeds up, breathing turning uneven and he sets his lips, thumb pulling Cas’ lower lip down before gripping his chin. ]
We don’t have any… stuff.
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[ it was on a whim, really— but they had to pack supplies for the trip, enough food to keep them for the few days it would take to get there by foot (since dean wasn't willing to let him fly them both except for a few short, treacherous stretches, and even if he had been they still would have had to stop to eat).
castiel takes his bag from his waistband without breaking eye contact, pulling the drawstring open and reaching inside to feel around until he brings out a small, glass bottle. in this light, it's difficult to tell what's inside, but if dean holds it up after cas passes it over to him, he'll see that it's filled with a pale yellow oil.
he was thinking ahead. perhaps it was presumptuous— he was a little embarrassed when he got it, and he's a little embarrassed now. an angel shouldn't be thinking so much of these things.
but they both know he's never been a good angel, so what does it matter? ]
why you lookin at him like that cas
[ Dean let's his hands fall to Cas' shoulders, thumbs gently rubbing, smoothing over skin and savoring the heat that radiates. ]
You did that all sneaky. I didn't even know you did it.
[ He holds it up and peers at it, gives it a little shake as his lips curl into a smile. ]
So, right here in the alley, huh.
determined to fuq
[ he wonders if dean has ever done this before. taken someone out behind a bar and... but he finds he doesn't like to think about that right now. there's a thrill to having dean's attention that's dampened when he considers how many others have had it.
he has to stay in the moment.
he keeps his gaze level. like he's waiting. and then he pops the button on dean's fly, and waits to see what he'll do. ]
cas knows what he wants, i respect it
[ it probably isn't the first time he's done something like this, fucked someone up against a wall, but it's the first time it's been with someone who means anything to him.
Dean relaxes a little, glances around and once he's satisfied there's no one, he fixes his eyes back on Cas and nods, giving him the permission he wants. ]
he's discovering himself, thanks dean
[ he sounds relieved, and something in his expression relaxes— when dean gives him permission, he grabs the zipper between his thumb and forefinger and pulls it down. he pauses here, feeling his own cock fill out in his loincloth, which does in fact hide absolutely nothing. it's not really the best garment for being covert.
then he slips his hand into the open v of dean's jeans and palms him through his shorts, the heat of him bleeding through the thin fabric. ]
anytime baby
Dean's in his normal people jeans, hot and a little sweaty but he's comfortable; he's not the kind of person who particularly wants his body on display to the rest of the world. Intimate situations, sure. But all means, let him strip down and dance like Magic Mike.
But this is... pieces of him, parts of himself he only shares with the people he chooses, and maybe that's what's important about all this, the reason he digs his heels in, doesn't want to throw everything he is on display. He wants a choice, for once, and while Cas is fine showing off his ding dong to God and Jesus and the Devil, Dean isn't. And he chooses not to do so, and if Cas chooses to do it, well.
Dean doesn't have to like it, but it ain't his business, is it.
He drops a hand, slides his hand through Cas' hair with a suppressed groan, nails dragging over his scalp, head tipping back to rest against the wall with a soft thump. ]
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he licks his lips, wetting them again, and sighs at the weight and the sensation of dean's hands in his hair. he sways toward him and reaches up to his waistband, carefully pulling it down his hips until his cock springs free, completely unashamed in his staring. it doesn't matter that the daylight is waning, his eyes see everything he wants to see.
the side of his thumb traces along the shaft, and he leans in to put his wet mouth to the tip, eyes sliding shut for a brief moment— the world tilts precariously when he does, the center coming unmoored, reminding him of just how much alcohol he drank back at the bar. forty shots on a lark. he wonders if dean is impressed with him for that, or for this, and parts his lips to take a little of him into his mouth, sucking gently before he eases back and opens his eyes to look up at him again. ]
It's not fair that I'm missing two senses. I'm never gonna get to know what you taste like.
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He doesn't know why he doesn't expect that warm, wet mouth on his dick - Cas is right there on his knees in front of him with those pretty lips Dean dreams about kissing, dim street lights reflecting off his face and casting flickering shadows over his body, the moment ethereal and soft.
Cas' mouth is divine, heaven made human, slick and warm and wet, shiver rolling down his spine, grip tight in dark hair. ]
S-sorry.
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[ it's just the way things are. he is what he is, and dean is what he is— wonderfully human. they wouldn't be doing this if he weren't. his eyelashes flutter, catching the glow from the torches lighting the main street, and he leans in again to take dean back into his mouth. the touch of his tongue is gentle. they're both aware he doesn't know how to do this, so to begin with it's all exploratory— he sits with his hands folded on his knees, gazing up at dean as he takes him deeper, little by little. jaw adjusting, lips stretching to accommodate him. ]
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You, uh—
[ He shifts, forcing his head off the concrete, looking down at Cas with bright eyes, cheeks flushed, a hand slipping from Cas' hair down to his cheek. ]
You can use your hands. Touch me.
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And it's so hot he isn't sure how long he's going to last if Cas keeps that up. ]
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[ It comes out a wrecked noise, cock twitching, hips jerking, fingers against Cas' face sliding into his hair, tangling his fingers in it, gripping tight. ]
I'm gonna-- lose it, if you keep that up.
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then cas climbs up off of his knees. ]
How should we—?
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Swap places with me, face the wall.
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[ a thrill rushes up through his stomach, and he moves around dean toward the sheer stone wall just in front of him. he watches him for a moment, eyes flickering down from his face over the length of his body, his flushed cock hanging out from the open v of his jeans that he opened. this is his doing, he thinks, and feels a thrill of both pride and trepidation for speeding the trajectory of this thing between them, this new form their relationship has taken.
he's been changing, and it's been changing with him. but at its center, it's still the same creature.
he places both hands against the wall. ]
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Just like that, yes.
[ Dean presses behind him, hands dropping to Cas' hips before sliding them to fumble with the loincloth Cas insists on wearing, tugging at it to get it out of the way. ]
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[ He teases up, fingers slick from the oil Cas gave him, teasing at him before gripping himself in his hand and pressing his cockhead right against the seam. ]
This what you want?
[ His lips are by Cas' ear, chest plastered up against his back. It's damn sure what Dean wants. ]
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Yes.
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Me too.
[ It takes nothing for Dean to thrust hom, bury himself in Cas, in his friend, in the person he's become so intimate with, so deeply connected to. There's something stirring there, something he doesn't understand, hasn't felt in...
well. Ever, maybe. Not like this. Not with Cas. ]
Shit.
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