[ 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...
[ castiel's mouth falls open and a sound catches high and light in the back of his throat, not quite a whimper— more like a breath caught at the wrong angle. dean buries himself deep and his neck arcs, head tilted back, his arms folding under their bodies' combined weight as dean presses him toward the wall.
it's getting dark, now, but the sun-warmed stone still retains some heat, and he sighs against it, pushing his hips back against dean's then to encourage him to keep moving. it feels nice. not just the physical sensation, but the intimacy of it.
it never would have occurred to him that he could enjoy this act in that way. ]
[ Cock firmly buried deep inside Cas, Dean's free now to loop his
arm around the angels middle, palming at his belly and chest before holding
him close, hips still moving. ]
This--you are incredible, Cas.
[ It's thrilling, being out in the open like this, jeans rough
against his skin, rubbing against Cas' ass with every thrust of his hips,
skin slapping skin. ]
[ he doesn't really know what to say to that. not because it's in any way objectionable, but because he's bad at articulating his own feelings, and has no idea what you're supposed to respond to that kind of talk in this scenario. he's seen porn— hell, he's seen the act in person. he knows the kinds of things that people say in the heat of the moment.
but truth be told, he's not present enough to worry about it right now. the way dean is moving inside of him is taking him somewhere else, to a different place in his mind. somewhere nice, which is rare enough on its own.
so maybe all he can muster in response is a sound, dick caught in his loincloth, staining the fabric where he's leaking; maybe all he can do is roll his hips back ineffectually, without anything resembling finesse, pit of his navel twisting sharp and tight and burning at the searing press of dean's hot hand on his stomach. it's still good. it's all good. way-down-deep-in-his gut good. ]
[ The sound is answer enough and his fingers dig into Cas' belly, head dropping to his shoulder so he can mouth at the angels neck, drag teeth over skin. He presses in close, pace slow, deep, utterly claiming; Castiel is his, his, and he intends to make sure Cas knows it, can feel it in every deep thrust of his hips. ]
You're so tight, so tight and hot, fuck..
[ He groans, nips Cas sharply, dragging his hand further up to play with nipples, thumbing over one, pinching and twisting. ]
[ he groans with dean's words, eyes squeezing shut, stomach gone taut beneath dean's hand. and then he's sliding that hand upward over the soft swell of his chest, and he's making another, different sound. gritted from between his teeth, trying to fight back the urge to finish too soon while his nipples pebble beneath dean's rough fingers. a shiver crawls the length of his spine, dragging up through his body so thoroughly that he can feel every inch of it the same as he can feel dean inside of him. ]
How long have you— wanted—?
[ because he knows, without a doubt, that dean's wanted to do this for a while— the surety comes to him unbidden. but he knows. ]
[ Cas feels so goddamn good against him, Dean feels like he could lose him mind. Warm, solid and firm, an ethereal creature crammed into the body of a human, all right here for the taking. He's perfection, beauty personified in Dean's mind, tucked up tight as Dean fucks into him. ]
S-since--
[ It's hard to think, to go back over the years and pull up the moment he realized he wanted to fuck Cas to the moon and back. ]
When, when you fell for me. Gave it all up for me.
[ He hadn't realized right away that's what he wanted, that's when Dean himself fell, but now he knows better. He knows. ]
[ he makes another sound at dean's answer, lips parted red and wet. he draws his tongue across them, hanging his head to press his forehead to the warm stone, nails scraping the hard veneer of the wall as he gasps. he's not sure when he started wanting this. but he has an idea that it must have been quite a while ago— if he's correct in identifying this feeling now that he recognizes what it is, around the same time.
or maybe earlier.
but there's no way he could articulate any of this while dean is fucking him senseless. ]
I-I— [ he inhales, soft and sharp. ] I'm close. I'm close, Dean—
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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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it's getting dark, now, but the sun-warmed stone still retains some heat, and he sighs against it, pushing his hips back against dean's then to encourage him to keep moving. it feels nice. not just the physical sensation, but the intimacy of it.
it never would have occurred to him that he could enjoy this act in that way. ]
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[ Cock firmly buried deep inside Cas, Dean's free now to loop his arm around the angels middle, palming at his belly and chest before holding him close, hips still moving. ]
This--you are incredible, Cas.
[ It's thrilling, being out in the open like this, jeans rough against his skin, rubbing against Cas' ass with every thrust of his hips, skin slapping skin. ]
I love this.
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but truth be told, he's not present enough to worry about it right now. the way dean is moving inside of him is taking him somewhere else, to a different place in his mind. somewhere nice, which is rare enough on its own.
so maybe all he can muster in response is a sound, dick caught in his loincloth, staining the fabric where he's leaking; maybe all he can do is roll his hips back ineffectually, without anything resembling finesse, pit of his navel twisting sharp and tight and burning at the searing press of dean's hot hand on his stomach. it's still good. it's all good. way-down-deep-in-his gut good. ]
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You're so tight, so tight and hot, fuck..
[ He groans, nips Cas sharply, dragging his hand further up to play with nipples, thumbing over one, pinching and twisting. ]
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How long have you— wanted—?
[ because he knows, without a doubt, that dean's wanted to do this for a while— the surety comes to him unbidden. but he knows. ]
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S-since--
[ It's hard to think, to go back over the years and pull up the moment he realized he wanted to fuck Cas to the moon and back. ]
When, when you fell for me. Gave it all up for me.
[ He hadn't realized right away that's what he wanted, that's when Dean himself fell, but now he knows better. He knows. ]
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or maybe earlier.
but there's no way he could articulate any of this while dean is fucking him senseless. ]
I-I— [ he inhales, soft and sharp. ] I'm close. I'm close, Dean—
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