[ their little bottle of oil is cracked and half empty, but it's there— the stain it's going to leave in dean's bag is fabric-ruining, but them's the breaks. at least they have some lube. cas is watching him, craning his neck— a little too obvious about how enthusiastic he is, suddenly. he would do a lot to escape this sensation of unreality, but it's more than that. ]
[ He isn't subtle at all, and Dean can't help but smile wider. Kinda makes a guy feel good about himself when you've got someone eyeing the lube like that. ]
Yeah it would've. How you wanna do this? Can you stand? Can bend you over, let you hold onto the rock. Or I could get you on your back and give you grass stains all over your pretty skin.
[ castiel swallows, his throat working. he reaches his hand to it again, fingers brushing his adam's apple, glancing at the wide rock outcropping, and then at the grass, and arrives at a midpoint: ]
[ he does not yet know the pain of kneeling too long, but he'll learn, and then learn nothing from it. his face flushes when dean continues to speak after he's sat down next to him, and with some hesitation, cas reaches out and touches his wrists. it still feels strange, like it isn't him who's doing it— like the world is tilting ever so slightly every time he moves with deliberation. but he wants dean to know that he wants this too.
he wants him to know.
he nods twice, squeezing his fingers around his arms a little too tightly, and then he's shucking out of the shirt and coat. he's a little warmer now that he's dry, but mostly he wants to feel dean's heat against his back. then he climbs onto the grassy floor of the earth, knees bent, fingers splayed through tuffs of green scrub. looking over his shoulder at dean.
[ Cas’ grip is tight on Dean, and once it loosens and he’s freed, Dean is crawling after him, reaching to smooth a hand over his thigh and up his ass. ]
You’re so friggin’ sexy.
[ He briefly drapes over Cas’ back, chest against his skin, groaning softly. ]
And hot. So good.
[ His touch lingers over Cas’ body before falling away in favor of smoothing oil on his fingers and slipping between his cheeks. ]
[ he sounds breathless already. it's always the anticipation that he doesn't expect. as much as he enjoys this, enjoys doing this, there's a part of him that doesn't really understand it, despite knowing why he does. (or thinking he does.) it's a fairly simple equation— pleasure for its own sake. he tips his head back when dean drapes over him, lips parting silently when he eases back to touch between his legs. the oil is cool, and it makes him shiver, but he likes the contrast of sensations, even if he's still too cold. ]
[ it's kind of strange to do this while that feeling is still dogging him; but otherwise, he'd probably be too distracted to realize a very important detail. he breathes out a wheezing breath, easing back very gently as he captures his bottom lip between his teeth. he speaks, after a moment. ]
Dean, because I— because my grace is so low… I'll be able to feel everything.
[ his head drops between his shoulders, the blades of them making stark outlines across his back, his spine knobby. there's a scar between his shoulders to match the one on his sternum. but his mind is far away from that now, trying to categorize this new sensation.
it's like they're doing it for the first time all over again, except that they're really, really not. he presses back into it, breathing out a harsh breath through his mouth. ]
[ he really doesn't have words for this experience; it's still novel. especially now, like this, where everything's been peeled back to its rawest. but it helps, in a way, to focus on the oddness of the sensation, the fullness of it, the slight discomfort. because of the oil, it doesn't hurt, but he can tell his body isn't quite sure what to make of the intrusion. sweat pricks behind his ears and across the nape of his neck. his arms tremble. ]
[ It really kinda is like starting over, but in a good way, Dean thinks. He gets to see what Cas thinks of actual dick in the butt instead of, you know, the whole angelic no pain thing.
He's gentle, making sure Cas stays nice and slick, sticking with one finger until he feels muscle give and he's able to slip a second in, peering over the beautiful plane of Cas' back to try and see his expression. ]
[ you're about to learn some things about your bestie today, dean.
dean gets the second finger in, and that's when cas starts leaning into it— easing back, head tilted up, mouth open. there's a crease between his brows like he's trying to decide how he feels, but it's easy enough to see by his slack jaw that how he feels isn't bad. his adam's apple moves in his throat, smooth up and down when he swallows, licks his lips. ]
[ he's panting by the time he thinks to speak again, dean's words crawling his spine and lodging themselves in his gut. it's not ever something he'd thought of as affecting, that kind of aimless praise. but his dick is hanging hard between his thighs, and it's at least half to do with the things dean's saying to him. ]
I'll give you whatever you want, [ Dean feels dizzy with it; Cas was reactive before, but this is a little different, this is Cas nearly human, at the point he feels nearly everything. Pain, pleasure, everything in between.
He gropes for the oil again, slick and slippery, twisting his hand so he can slowly work a third in, gentle, unwilling to hurt him. ]
[ his breath stutters in his throat. three fingers is a lot. they never bothered so much with... getting ready before, and he feels it now. the stretch of dean's fingers, and the way the muscle pulls taut around them. he has to close his eyes and focus to relax, because all of his instincts tell him to clamp down and really feel it.
he can feel it. a sound ekes its way out of his throat, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he realizes he's beginning to drool. ]
[ He'd paused while waiting for confirmation; once he gets it, his fingers move again, fluttering inside of the angel, teasing, twisting, pressing in deep to tease at his prostate, glance over it with blunt fingertips. ]
Tell me if it ever hurts.
[ He doesn't think he's hurting him right now, but just in case. ]
[ he does not tell dean that it hurts, because it doesn't. instead, he makes a broken sound when dean's fingers touch that sensitive place inside of him, his head dropping between his shoulders as they tremble. he sees a slight flaw his his choice of position then— he's not sure he's going to be able to stay like this, getting grass stains on his hands and knees, without ultimately losing enough upper body strength to end up with his face in the dirt. it's a little bit unbecoming, even for an angel like him.
but that's a problem for future cas. right now, he doesn't want to disrupt that perfect feeling, and nothing else matters. ]
[ Dean gets that noise and he knows he isn't hurting him. Cas is enjoying it, and Dean revels in the shake of his shoulders, the noises that come out of his mouth, bubbled up from want and desire.
It's intoxicating, and Dean shivers, dick hard between his own legs. He reaches down between Cas' thighs, under his hand to tease at his balls, cup them in his hands, roll them between fingers. ]
[ he must look quite a sight, on his hands and knees, kneeling in the dirt out in the open. unprotected, on the edge of the wilderness, the smooth skin stretched taut across his shoulders as delicate as it looks, now— delicate enough that he could leave marks, if he wanted, and they would linger like they're supposed to.
he makes the same sound again, choked in his throat, pulling up grass and dirt where his nails dig into the earth. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Did you find it?
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I got it, yep. We're lucky this didn't ruin our clothes.
[ He comes back around next to Cas and holds the little cracked bottle up. ]
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[ but his eyes are following that bottle like a dog eyeing a steak. as much as he tries to be subtle, his tells have to be obvious to dean by now. ]
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Yeah it would've. How you wanna do this? Can you stand? Can bend you over, let you hold onto the rock. Or I could get you on your back and give you grass stains all over your pretty skin.
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I could get on my hands and knees.
[ the name for that is "doggy style". ]
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You think your knees will be okay?
[ Dean is already moving towards Cas, sinking back down beside him and reaching to cup the back of his neck. ]
God, I want you.
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[ he does not yet know the pain of kneeling too long, but he'll learn, and then learn nothing from it. his face flushes when dean continues to speak after he's sat down next to him, and with some hesitation, cas reaches out and touches his wrists. it still feels strange, like it isn't him who's doing it— like the world is tilting ever so slightly every time he moves with deliberation. but he wants dean to know that he wants this too.
he wants him to know.
he nods twice, squeezing his fingers around his arms a little too tightly, and then he's shucking out of the shirt and coat. he's a little warmer now that he's dry, but mostly he wants to feel dean's heat against his back. then he climbs onto the grassy floor of the earth, knees bent, fingers splayed through tuffs of green scrub. looking over his shoulder at dean.
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[ Cas’ grip is tight on Dean, and once it loosens and he’s freed, Dean is crawling after him, reaching to smooth a hand over his thigh and up his ass. ]
You’re so friggin’ sexy.
[ He briefly drapes over Cas’ back, chest against his skin, groaning softly. ]
And hot. So good.
[ His touch lingers over Cas’ body before falling away in favor of smoothing oil on his fingers and slipping between his cheeks. ]
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[ he sounds breathless already. it's always the anticipation that he doesn't expect. as much as he enjoys this, enjoys doing this, there's a part of him that doesn't really understand it, despite knowing why he does. (or thinking he does.) it's a fairly simple equation— pleasure for its own sake. he tips his head back when dean drapes over him, lips parting silently when he eases back to touch between his legs. the oil is cool, and it makes him shiver, but he likes the contrast of sensations, even if he's still too cold. ]
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[ the oil is slick on the pads of his fingers smoothing over his hole, teasing, pressing against jt but not enough to penetrate. ]
You’re so tight..
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Dean, because I— because my grace is so low… I'll be able to feel everything.
[ not just pleasure. ]
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[ More oil, then, before he circles Cas' hole, pressing gently, slipping just the pad of his finger in and tugging. ]
I want you to feel good.
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it's like they're doing it for the first time all over again, except that they're really, really not. he presses back into it, breathing out a harsh breath through his mouth. ]
You could go a little deeper.
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I will.
[ He just wants to make sure he doesn't hurt Cas, doesn't tear something.
But with permission, he eases a finger in, pressing past the rung of muscle until he's buried knuckle deep, twisting and stretching. ]
How's that?
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[ he really doesn't have words for this experience; it's still novel. especially now, like this, where everything's been peeled back to its rawest. but it helps, in a way, to focus on the oddness of the sensation, the fullness of it, the slight discomfort. because of the oil, it doesn't hurt, but he can tell his body isn't quite sure what to make of the intrusion. sweat pricks behind his ears and across the nape of his neck. his arms tremble. ]
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He's gentle, making sure Cas stays nice and slick, sticking with one finger until he feels muscle give and he's able to slip a second in, peering over the beautiful plane of Cas' back to try and see his expression. ]
Still good?
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dean gets the second finger in, and that's when cas starts leaning into it— easing back, head tilted up, mouth open. there's a crease between his brows like he's trying to decide how he feels, but it's easy enough to see by his slack jaw that how he feels isn't bad. his adam's apple moves in his throat, smooth up and down when he swallows, licks his lips. ]
Yeah. D-don't stop.
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[ he breathes, two fingers knuckle deep, twisting and scissoring, pulling and pawing him open, slow and steady, torturous. ]
Incredible.
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More. I need—
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He gropes for the oil again, slick and slippery, twisting his hand so he can slowly work a third in, gentle, unwilling to hurt him. ]
Is that-- is that okay? God you're beautiful.
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he can feel it. a sound ekes its way out of his throat, and he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when he realizes he's beginning to drool. ]
Y-yeah. Keep—
[ keep going. ]
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Tell me if it ever hurts.
[ He doesn't think he's hurting him right now, but just in case. ]
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but that's a problem for future cas. right now, he doesn't want to disrupt that perfect feeling, and nothing else matters. ]
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It's intoxicating, and Dean shivers, dick hard between his own legs. He reaches down between Cas' thighs, under his hand to tease at his balls, cup them in his hands, roll them between fingers. ]
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he makes the same sound again, choked in his throat, pulling up grass and dirt where his nails dig into the earth. ]
Dean, please—
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lol cas 'HURRY THE FUCK UP'
FUCK HIM!!!!!
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what the hell did i do to the second sentence of that second paragraph lmfao
lmfao
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