The Way of Things - (SPN - Dean/Castiel)
Title: The Way of Things
Characters: 2009!Dean/2014!Castiel, flashbacks of 2009!Dean/2009!Castiel
Summary: Whatever they do, they will always end up... here.
Warning: Angsty smut, it is Endverse after all.
For the last hour Dean had tried to reason it as an excuse to get away from his future self for a bit. Which, really wasn’t that much of a stretch. He was a friggin’ dick.
Truthfully, though, the convoy was leaving shortly and Dean hoped he would be able to see Cas without all the women hanging around or his future self tossing surly looks of disapproval in the angel’s direction.
Mostly he’d been hoping to catch Cas sober.
Sober.
Jesus Christ.
Cas’d been high as a fucking kite and spouting off all sorts Maharishi bullshit the entire time Dean had been stuck here.
When he finally approached Cas' cabin Dean called out as he climbed the steps.
After minutes of staring at the wood grain of the door with no response, Dean determinedly pushed it open, only stopping momentarily to push aside the beaded curtain that led to the bedroom.
A large duffel laid on the bed. Guns and various other weapons sticking out of it, while a bottle tipped onto its side spread a green liquid stain over the blanket.
Moving further into the room Dean heard a scratching noise just before a voice called out.
“When exactly in 2009 are you from?”
“Son of a bitch.” Dean tried to cover his slight jump of surprise before looking around the bed and finding Cas digging underneath it.
“Have you taken me to the… What did I call it? Den of iniquity yet?”
The question hit Dean hard in the chest and he was thankful Cas didn’t witness his face’s burning acknowledgment of what had happened just two weeks before in his time.
The air hot and muggy in the closed in space of the Impala. Alcohol tinged breath fogging up the windows as they slid against each other.
A sharp laugh pulled Dean back to the present and he saw Cas had gotten to his feet and stepped closer.
“I’m going to take that deer in the headlight look as confirmation.” Cas grinned widely and Dean only had a moment to notice how off the smile looked before Cas closed the distance between them, bringing their mouths together.
Stress relief. Dean had sworn at the time when limbs had tangled together in the backseat of his Baby. That had been it. Even as he'd tucked his face against the angel’s shoulder, had muffled his pleasured exclamations while large hands slid down his spine.
This was different.
This was not the Cas of two weeks, and apparently five years ago, who’d stared at Dean in wonder while the hunter had trailed tongue and teeth over the angel’s body.
This Cas had a freaky harem of women and stale breath that tasted like marijuana, alcohol and some unknown chemical as his tongue slid over Dean’s.
Everything here, now, including himself, was so completely fucked, that Dean wanted to grab a hold of even a sliver of something familiar.
So he did.
Dean knew the voice that growled his name in his ear. And the strong hands that grasped at him, even as they expertly unfastened jeans and shoved him back onto the bed.
Cas followed him down and fingers continued over heated flesh, easily mapping Dean's body like it’d been done a thousand times.
Had it?
Were they doing this here?
All questions were ejected from Dean's brain when Cas’ mouth, hot and wet, engulfed his cock.
The slightly confused but bright smile that’d been turned Dean's way as they tumbled to the car had had heat pooling low in his stomach as he’d pulled into a dark side street and dragged the angel into a kiss before maneuvering them into the back seat.
“Cas.” Dean groaned and the other man looked up, his slightly unfocused blue eyes framed through dark lashes as he released the hunter with an obscene and clearly practiced wet noise.
Rumpled clothes had quickly been shifted out of the way so Dean could run hands over every bit of exposed skin. The intense heat that’d radiated off Castiel's lean frame underneath Dean had reminded the hunter of the immense power held within.
Cas dug through the mountain of orange prescription bottles on the nightstand then kicked off a boot, didn’t even bother to step out of more than one leg of the dirty jeans he was wearing before slotting himself against Dean. A roll of his hips as he lifted up slightly and Cas caught Dean’s groan with his mouth.
Fingers of one hand grasped at the back of Dean’s head while the others, cool and slick gave a few determined strokes to the hunter’s cock before Cas lowered himself down.
“Son of a bitch.” Dean choked when Cas was seated flush to his lap. “That’s not… You’ve got to…”
“I know what I’m doing, Dean. Especially when you fucked me just a few hours ago.” Cas’ voice rumbled filthily in his ear and Dean bucked on instinct into the tight heat that surrounded him.
“Dean, this stimulation is overwhelming.”
The angel’s usual even tone had been broken and anxious. And Dean on his knees in the floorboard, nose pressed to the thatch of dark hair at the base of Castiel's cock while his hand slid teasingly over the shaft, could only laugh.
Cas gave a few slow rolls of his hips before setting a fast pace that had Dean digging fingers into his thighs with each determined snap that brought him too quickly toward the edge.
Their foreheads bumped and Cas’ heavy, damp breath panted across Dean’s features every time they broke from their sloppy slide of mouths.
The hunter saw haziness slip from Cas' blue eyes and his chest ached at the raw grief left exposed. Wondering how much of the blame fell on himself for the current state of the angel.
Dean reached up and framed Cas’ face, blunt nails gently dragged over scruffy jawline before pulling him into another kiss. This one full of everything Dean didn’t know how to say. Only broken when Cas arched away, body clenched tight as he frantically cried out again and again.
“Dean!”
“Dean!” Castiel had shouted; eyes wide with shock as the angel had come over their joined fists. A few more thrusts and Dean had been right there with him, his own release spilling between their sweat slicked bodies in the cramped backseat of the Impala.
A breeze blew through the open window of the cabin and Dean felt Cas shiver as he ran a palm under Cas' shirt and along his spine. His head heavy against Dean's shoulder as their bodies twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.
‘I’m gonna fix this.’ Dean thought before Cas suddenly climbed off his lap and started tugging back on dirty, worn out clothes.
“At least we took care of the whole you not dying a virgin thing.” Dean laughed awkwardly, trying to fill up the empty space of the room.
"You did." Cas stated, voice full of longing as he replaced his shoes.
“I did.” Dean offered a small smile in return, reaching for his own jeans before Cas placed calloused, warm hands against his bare thighs while ghosting a kiss over his lips.
‘I won’t let it stay this way.’ “I didn’t let you die back then either.” Dean pointed out.
Cas stared at him intensely for a moment before he straightened and pulled on his jacket and picked up the duffel.
As Cas started to leave, Dean watched the other man's shoulders slump slightly before he spoke,
“You will, though.”
Characters: 2009!Dean/2014!Castiel, flashbacks of 2009!Dean/2009!Castiel
Summary: Whatever they do, they will always end up... here.
Warning: Angsty smut, it is Endverse after all.
For the last hour Dean had tried to reason it as an excuse to get away from his future self for a bit. Which, really wasn’t that much of a stretch. He was a friggin’ dick.
Truthfully, though, the convoy was leaving shortly and Dean hoped he would be able to see Cas without all the women hanging around or his future self tossing surly looks of disapproval in the angel’s direction.
Mostly he’d been hoping to catch Cas sober.
Sober.
Jesus Christ.
Cas’d been high as a fucking kite and spouting off all sorts Maharishi bullshit the entire time Dean had been stuck here.
When he finally approached Cas' cabin Dean called out as he climbed the steps.
After minutes of staring at the wood grain of the door with no response, Dean determinedly pushed it open, only stopping momentarily to push aside the beaded curtain that led to the bedroom.
A large duffel laid on the bed. Guns and various other weapons sticking out of it, while a bottle tipped onto its side spread a green liquid stain over the blanket.
Moving further into the room Dean heard a scratching noise just before a voice called out.
“When exactly in 2009 are you from?”
“Son of a bitch.” Dean tried to cover his slight jump of surprise before looking around the bed and finding Cas digging underneath it.
“Have you taken me to the… What did I call it? Den of iniquity yet?”
The question hit Dean hard in the chest and he was thankful Cas didn’t witness his face’s burning acknowledgment of what had happened just two weeks before in his time.
The air hot and muggy in the closed in space of the Impala. Alcohol tinged breath fogging up the windows as they slid against each other.
A sharp laugh pulled Dean back to the present and he saw Cas had gotten to his feet and stepped closer.
“I’m going to take that deer in the headlight look as confirmation.” Cas grinned widely and Dean only had a moment to notice how off the smile looked before Cas closed the distance between them, bringing their mouths together.
Stress relief. Dean had sworn at the time when limbs had tangled together in the backseat of his Baby. That had been it. Even as he'd tucked his face against the angel’s shoulder, had muffled his pleasured exclamations while large hands slid down his spine.
This was different.
This was not the Cas of two weeks, and apparently five years ago, who’d stared at Dean in wonder while the hunter had trailed tongue and teeth over the angel’s body.
This Cas had a freaky harem of women and stale breath that tasted like marijuana, alcohol and some unknown chemical as his tongue slid over Dean’s.
Everything here, now, including himself, was so completely fucked, that Dean wanted to grab a hold of even a sliver of something familiar.
So he did.
Dean knew the voice that growled his name in his ear. And the strong hands that grasped at him, even as they expertly unfastened jeans and shoved him back onto the bed.
Cas followed him down and fingers continued over heated flesh, easily mapping Dean's body like it’d been done a thousand times.
Had it?
Were they doing this here?
All questions were ejected from Dean's brain when Cas’ mouth, hot and wet, engulfed his cock.
The slightly confused but bright smile that’d been turned Dean's way as they tumbled to the car had had heat pooling low in his stomach as he’d pulled into a dark side street and dragged the angel into a kiss before maneuvering them into the back seat.
“Cas.” Dean groaned and the other man looked up, his slightly unfocused blue eyes framed through dark lashes as he released the hunter with an obscene and clearly practiced wet noise.
Rumpled clothes had quickly been shifted out of the way so Dean could run hands over every bit of exposed skin. The intense heat that’d radiated off Castiel's lean frame underneath Dean had reminded the hunter of the immense power held within.
Cas dug through the mountain of orange prescription bottles on the nightstand then kicked off a boot, didn’t even bother to step out of more than one leg of the dirty jeans he was wearing before slotting himself against Dean. A roll of his hips as he lifted up slightly and Cas caught Dean’s groan with his mouth.
Fingers of one hand grasped at the back of Dean’s head while the others, cool and slick gave a few determined strokes to the hunter’s cock before Cas lowered himself down.
“Son of a bitch.” Dean choked when Cas was seated flush to his lap. “That’s not… You’ve got to…”
“I know what I’m doing, Dean. Especially when you fucked me just a few hours ago.” Cas’ voice rumbled filthily in his ear and Dean bucked on instinct into the tight heat that surrounded him.
“Dean, this stimulation is overwhelming.”
The angel’s usual even tone had been broken and anxious. And Dean on his knees in the floorboard, nose pressed to the thatch of dark hair at the base of Castiel's cock while his hand slid teasingly over the shaft, could only laugh.
Cas gave a few slow rolls of his hips before setting a fast pace that had Dean digging fingers into his thighs with each determined snap that brought him too quickly toward the edge.
Their foreheads bumped and Cas’ heavy, damp breath panted across Dean’s features every time they broke from their sloppy slide of mouths.
The hunter saw haziness slip from Cas' blue eyes and his chest ached at the raw grief left exposed. Wondering how much of the blame fell on himself for the current state of the angel.
Dean reached up and framed Cas’ face, blunt nails gently dragged over scruffy jawline before pulling him into another kiss. This one full of everything Dean didn’t know how to say. Only broken when Cas arched away, body clenched tight as he frantically cried out again and again.
“Dean!”
“Dean!” Castiel had shouted; eyes wide with shock as the angel had come over their joined fists. A few more thrusts and Dean had been right there with him, his own release spilling between their sweat slicked bodies in the cramped backseat of the Impala.
A breeze blew through the open window of the cabin and Dean felt Cas shiver as he ran a palm under Cas' shirt and along his spine. His head heavy against Dean's shoulder as their bodies twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.
‘I’m gonna fix this.’ Dean thought before Cas suddenly climbed off his lap and started tugging back on dirty, worn out clothes.
“At least we took care of the whole you not dying a virgin thing.” Dean laughed awkwardly, trying to fill up the empty space of the room.
"You did." Cas stated, voice full of longing as he replaced his shoes.
“I did.” Dean offered a small smile in return, reaching for his own jeans before Cas placed calloused, warm hands against his bare thighs while ghosting a kiss over his lips.
‘I won’t let it stay this way.’ “I didn’t let you die back then either.” Dean pointed out.
Cas stared at him intensely for a moment before he straightened and pulled on his jacket and picked up the duffel.
As Cas started to leave, Dean watched the other man's shoulders slump slightly before he spoke,
“You will, though.”