Fiction: Sanctification
Title: Sanctification
Author: buoy
Summary: "Morning after" fluff.
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 746
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I am not making a profit.
Warnings: None
Notes: Originally meant to be a much longer story, but my will gave out before my heart did. Unbeta'd.
--
Original sin is what separates the fallen from those still sanctified by God's grace...or something. Dean's never actually bothered with that nonsense in the past, so he's no expert. There's no need to be, after all, when you didn't believe in God, or angels, or anything like that. That changed necessity, of course, but even then he still never really asked Castiel for the particulars. For that matter, Cas was never prone to giving theology lectures anyway. But watching Castiel now, Dean's suddenly reminded of it-the freaking Fall of Man, of all things, capital letters and everything.
They're still lying on the now-rumpled sheets of their hotel bed (and a good hotel; Dean splurged for the occasion, thank you very much). Cas's stomach is covered in the angel's semen and he's looking straight at Dean, gaze firm and even, as it's always been. If it was just that face alone, or just that face but a few months ago, Dean might have thought Cas didn't even know that abashment could exist. But there was something else now, too: a flush on skin, kiss-swollen lips, and eyes a trace wider than usual. Dean slides his palms down until his fingers gently probe at the angel's now loosened and slick opening, and Cas's even gaze falters, eyes fluttering shut.
So there it is, two millennia's worth of ridiculous orthodoxy he never had time for writ plain on Castiel's borrowed human body. It's the descent, the fall, and the realization of shame all in one moment. It's fucking sin, is what it is, and it looks hot as hell on Cas. But Dean also feels guilty, and not for the first time.
He smiles, trying to look reassuring but it probably only comes across as devious. The fact that his hands had, by now, already moved to Cas's inner thighs to spread them wide (again) probably wasn't helping. Dean's smile grows despite himself when he spies the spread of pink deepening on Castiel's already-flushed skin. He probably looks smug, but after the solid round of fucking he just delivered, he thinks he's allowed a bit of emotional honesty.
Hell, that should be one of the benefits of getting involved with someone like Cas, right? There's the guilt, of course, it kind of comes along when you're basically giving a one-on-one, hands-on human sex education to a Messenger of God. But there was also the ease of just being around Cas. It's the emotional honesty, baby, being able to open your heart to that special someone, and-okay, that's not really what he means. What he does mean is this: Cas was Cas and Dean could be Dean. And who would have imagined that from two people as cosmically fucked up as them?
"Dean," Castiel murmurs, voice barely a whisper but in the quiet of their hotel room, it was enough to crack the air and vibrate deep into his eardrums.
"Yea, baby, what is it?" He croons, smile still smug as fuck on his face, but goddamn did Castiel look good spread out before him.
Cas's dick is still a little flushed even after having just shot a load over his own holy stomach some time ago, and this time when Dean smiles, it really is devious.
"I think you like this."
"It is...pleasant," is Castiel's matter-of-fact response.
"Pleasant?" Dean scoffs, eyeing Cas's semi-hard-on. "I think we can upgrade to a better adjective, don't you think?"
He pushes Cas's thighs apart further, wide, and folding them down until they came directly over the angel's torso. Hmm. Dean's impressed.
"You're pretty damn flexible, you know that?"
"Why are you..." Castiel pauses like he's trying to find the right words. "...playing with me."
"Do you want me to stop?" Dean asks, half serious and half-distracted by the sight of a trickle of his come dribbling out of Cas's opening.
"No."
Well, that was a bad response, because now, Dean's suddenly overcome with the impulse to shove his come right back inside Cas with his dick and go for another round. His dick jerks in agreement at the idea, but realistically, Dean knows he needs at least some time before he really go at it again. For now, it's all Dean can do to resist the urge to push it back in with his fingers until Cas is moaning underneath him again.
Actually, hey, that was a pretty good idea.
Castiel's soft gasp and arching back tells him the angel agrees.
--
Author: buoy
Summary: "Morning after" fluff.
Rating: R
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Word Count: 746
Disclaimer: I don't own anything and I am not making a profit.
Warnings: None
Notes: Originally meant to be a much longer story, but my will gave out before my heart did. Unbeta'd.
--
Original sin is what separates the fallen from those still sanctified by God's grace...or something. Dean's never actually bothered with that nonsense in the past, so he's no expert. There's no need to be, after all, when you didn't believe in God, or angels, or anything like that. That changed necessity, of course, but even then he still never really asked Castiel for the particulars. For that matter, Cas was never prone to giving theology lectures anyway. But watching Castiel now, Dean's suddenly reminded of it-the freaking Fall of Man, of all things, capital letters and everything.
They're still lying on the now-rumpled sheets of their hotel bed (and a good hotel; Dean splurged for the occasion, thank you very much). Cas's stomach is covered in the angel's semen and he's looking straight at Dean, gaze firm and even, as it's always been. If it was just that face alone, or just that face but a few months ago, Dean might have thought Cas didn't even know that abashment could exist. But there was something else now, too: a flush on skin, kiss-swollen lips, and eyes a trace wider than usual. Dean slides his palms down until his fingers gently probe at the angel's now loosened and slick opening, and Cas's even gaze falters, eyes fluttering shut.
So there it is, two millennia's worth of ridiculous orthodoxy he never had time for writ plain on Castiel's borrowed human body. It's the descent, the fall, and the realization of shame all in one moment. It's fucking sin, is what it is, and it looks hot as hell on Cas. But Dean also feels guilty, and not for the first time.
He smiles, trying to look reassuring but it probably only comes across as devious. The fact that his hands had, by now, already moved to Cas's inner thighs to spread them wide (again) probably wasn't helping. Dean's smile grows despite himself when he spies the spread of pink deepening on Castiel's already-flushed skin. He probably looks smug, but after the solid round of fucking he just delivered, he thinks he's allowed a bit of emotional honesty.
Hell, that should be one of the benefits of getting involved with someone like Cas, right? There's the guilt, of course, it kind of comes along when you're basically giving a one-on-one, hands-on human sex education to a Messenger of God. But there was also the ease of just being around Cas. It's the emotional honesty, baby, being able to open your heart to that special someone, and-okay, that's not really what he means. What he does mean is this: Cas was Cas and Dean could be Dean. And who would have imagined that from two people as cosmically fucked up as them?
"Dean," Castiel murmurs, voice barely a whisper but in the quiet of their hotel room, it was enough to crack the air and vibrate deep into his eardrums.
"Yea, baby, what is it?" He croons, smile still smug as fuck on his face, but goddamn did Castiel look good spread out before him.
Cas's dick is still a little flushed even after having just shot a load over his own holy stomach some time ago, and this time when Dean smiles, it really is devious.
"I think you like this."
"It is...pleasant," is Castiel's matter-of-fact response.
"Pleasant?" Dean scoffs, eyeing Cas's semi-hard-on. "I think we can upgrade to a better adjective, don't you think?"
He pushes Cas's thighs apart further, wide, and folding them down until they came directly over the angel's torso. Hmm. Dean's impressed.
"You're pretty damn flexible, you know that?"
"Why are you..." Castiel pauses like he's trying to find the right words. "...playing with me."
"Do you want me to stop?" Dean asks, half serious and half-distracted by the sight of a trickle of his come dribbling out of Cas's opening.
"No."
Well, that was a bad response, because now, Dean's suddenly overcome with the impulse to shove his come right back inside Cas with his dick and go for another round. His dick jerks in agreement at the idea, but realistically, Dean knows he needs at least some time before he really go at it again. For now, it's all Dean can do to resist the urge to push it back in with his fingers until Cas is moaning underneath him again.
Actually, hey, that was a pretty good idea.
Castiel's soft gasp and arching back tells him the angel agrees.
--