Misinterpret
Title: Misinterpret
Author: fuck_of_nature
Rating: Hard R to NC-17.
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas.
Spoilers: Very light ones for Point of No Return
Warnings: Language. Sexual situations
Word Count: 1577
Summary: 'Blow me, Cas.' Dean should know better.
A/N: This is my second story in this fandom and it's unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. This has been sitting on my word for weeks, so it's probably not as polished as it should be, but I need it gone so I could focus on the million other ideas I have going on. If anyone wants to beta it, I'd appreciate it, or any future stories. Constructive criticism is appreciated!
Dean turns around and comes face to face with a familiar angel and his blue eyes. His mouth opens, to remind Cas that there’s this thing called personal space and he enjoys his, thank you very much. He can’t speak though because Cas’ hands are fumbling with his belt and Dean doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to feel, only his body is already feeling for him, cock jerking awake as Cas’ clumsy fingers push his jeans against his length. Cas doesn’t say anything either, his eyes still on Dean’s face, which probably explains why his hands can’t seem to get Dean’s damn belt off (which he regrets wearing at all, immensely). Either that or it’s because Castiel isn’t experienced with what he seems to be doing, and Dean kind of feels it might be a bit of both, because he can’t imagine the angel…undressing anyone else, nor does he want to. It doesn’t matter because Castiel finally jerks the belt off, taking his sweet time in sliding it out of the belt loops of Dean’s jeans. If Dean hadn’t been afraid of scaring Castiel off and breaking this spell, he might have told Castiel to just leave it. Again it doesn’t matter because the belt's gone, on the floor, and Castiel’s fingers make a much easier task of getting his jeans open.
A heated gasp escapes his lips when Castiel slides his hand inside of his jeans. He’s not even touching Dean’s cock yet, but the feeling is electric. Maybe it’s just knowing that this is a fucking angel that’s palming his cock. Dean forces himself to look up at Castiel’s face. For once Castiel isn’t looking at him, his concentrated gaze on Dean’s groin. Dean’s glad for it, suddenly, because it lets him examine the angel’s features more closely, appreciate the bright blueness of his eyes, and the way the stubble against his jaw fits him perfectly. He’s distracted quite quickly because Castiel’s fingers finally touch his skin and Dean jerks violently, unsure if he’s jerking away or into Castiel’s grasp but it makes no difference because Castiel’s fingers are around his cock and Dean can’t go anywhere anyway. Dean moans low in his throat, not sure if he should be enjoying this, but he is anyway. Castiel nudges him backward and there’s suddenly a bed behind him that Dean’s falling back onto. Whether it was there before or not, Dean doesn’t know because all he knows, all he’s ever known is Castiel, or at least that’s what it feels like as Castiel climbs onto the bed beside him, hand still wrapped around Dean’s hard cock.
“Dean.” Castiel’s voice is commanding. Dean doesn’t know what he wants, but whatever it is, he’s willing to do it. Dean pulls himself onto his elbows, gritting his teeth but forcing his eyes open. Castiel’s hand hasn’t even moved and Dean desperately wants it to. He pushes his hips forward, moaning loudly at the first moment of friction, but he’s stilled by Castiel’s other hand on his hip and the angel looming over him. His jaw tilts upwards so his face can follow Castiel’s face, those blue eyes of his captivating Dean’s mind (or it could be the hand on his cock, either way he’s willing to do whatever Castiel wants). Despite the intimacy of the position they are already in, Castiel hasn’t kissed him yet and he quickly amends this as his lips descend upon Dean’s. It’s the first time that Dean has ever been kissed by another man. It’s a short, dry kiss, but hardly unpleasant. Castiel leans his head against Dean’s, gazing into his eyes and Dean can’t look at anything else. He can’t even close his eyes, even though Castiel’s hand starts to move at an actual rhythm. It lasts only for a moment though, that rhythm, because Castiel decides he wants to move away from Dean. Dean, in turn, lets out a sound that he would embarrassingly call a whine. The sound is cut short, though, because he realizes Castiel isn’t really going anywhere, only changing tactics.
Cas’s face is now hovering near the opening of Dean’s jeans where Dean is clearly very aroused. Dean leans back further against the bed, but keeps enough leverage so that he can still watch what Cas is doing. There isn’t much warning when Castiel wraps his mouth around Dean’s cock and takes so much of it inside the warm cavern of his mouth, Dean has to strain not to come right there. Castiel gives his vessel’s mouth a moment to adjust to Dean because Jimmy Novak clearly never sucked much cock. Dean hopes Castiel hasn’t either. Dean’s groaning low in his throat, needing to get the tension, the pleasure out somehow since he can’t shift without coming hard and fast. After a moment of thinking about disgustingly unpleasant things (like Lucifer and his peeling face), Dean feels a bit more comfortable that he’ll be able to last long enough to see if Castiel has any natural talent in that mouth of his. He presses his hips forward, gentle and short, just enough to let Castiel know he’s ready for more. He doesn’t know if it’s enough though, so he quickly threads his fingers through Castiel’s hair, encouraging and hopeful. That, at least, seems to give Castiel the guidance he needs and then he’s mouthing Dean’s cock. Maybe Dean’s just that turned on but Castiel’s mouth feels pretty damn good. He makes an effort to keep his eyes open, watching Castiel’s head bobbing between his hips, letting his eyes meet the blue ones staring back at him, both determined and calculating. Dean doesn’t think there can be any doubt that he thinks Castiel is doing a damn fine job with the way he’s groaning, the way he has to restrain from pumping his hips into Castiel’s mouth.
When Castiel wraps one of his long fingered hands around the base of Dean’s cock, Dean knows that not even Lucifer can make that feeling any less awesome then it is and he lets his hips jerk a little faster into Castiel’s mouth. It was a short journey, he knows, but he can’t be fucking blamed for that when Castiel acts like he’s fucking innocent and then does this with his mouth, all blue eyes, long fingers and the warmest mouth Dean has ever felt. Dean’s panting his name by now, unashamed because he can feel the pleasure curling in his spine and damn, it’s a shame that they hadn’t done this before. A second later the world is blinding white except those two blue orbs still staring at him, even as Castiel sucks down everything Dean offers into his mouth, milking Dean expertly through the orgasm. Dean keeps his hand buried in Castiel’s hair, though he doesn’t stop Castiel from pulling his mouth off of Dean’s cock when Dean’s done exploding. His fingers curl and uncurl in Castiel’s hair as he breaths hard and deep gasps.
“Cas-“ Dean’s voice is much too high, too breathy, and he pauses to clear his throat so he doesn’t sound like such a newbie at this whole thing, especially since Castiel is looking at him, all calm and nonchalant, like it [i]is[/i] something he does all the time and once again, Dean doesn’t want to think about that possibility, so he forces the thought aside and continues speaking. “-Cas, what the hell was that all about?”
There’s a very long pause, in which Castiel is staring at him with those intense blue eyes. It makes Dean extremely uncomfortable, but he doesn’t look away. It also makes him feel pretty stupid for asking that question in the first place, because he knows what a blowjob is and he knows Castiel gave him a damn good one. His thoughts drift back to when he and Castiel visited the brothel and how inexperienced and uncomfortable Castiel seemed, but he’s also glad that nothing happened, because that hooker didn’t have a cock that Castiel could suck so expertly. And, [i]again[/i], Dean wonders why he’s thinking about that when Castiel is still staring at him, still hovering at Dean’s thighs, still with those glistening red lips. Finally, Castiel speaks and Dean thinks it’s about damn time. “I thought…I thought this is what you wanted,” Castiel sounds uncertain, for once, but the way his head tilts to one side, questioningly, is more like Castiel. At first, Dean doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What on earth had given Castiel the idea that he wanted a blowjob from him, and then he remembers how Castiel how commented how Dean wasn’t strong enough to resist Michael and Dean had turned to him and…
Blow me, Cas.
Perhaps Dean should have known better than to use some kind of human saying to Castiel with such a connotation. Castiel has shown many times how clueless he can be when it comes to the manners of humans. Dean nods, laughing a little while Castiel looks on, bemused. Dean nods his head, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair and bringing their mouths together for a filthy kiss. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
Dean thinks he should know better than to tell Castiel something he didn’t really mean but at this point, sated and spent, he thinks it might be okay if he lets Castiel misinterpret a few other choice phrases (kiss my ass is the first thing that springs to mind).
Author: fuck_of_nature
Rating: Hard R to NC-17.
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas.
Spoilers: Very light ones for Point of No Return
Warnings: Language. Sexual situations
Word Count: 1577
Summary: 'Blow me, Cas.' Dean should know better.
A/N: This is my second story in this fandom and it's unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. This has been sitting on my word for weeks, so it's probably not as polished as it should be, but I need it gone so I could focus on the million other ideas I have going on. If anyone wants to beta it, I'd appreciate it, or any future stories. Constructive criticism is appreciated!
Dean turns around and comes face to face with a familiar angel and his blue eyes. His mouth opens, to remind Cas that there’s this thing called personal space and he enjoys his, thank you very much. He can’t speak though because Cas’ hands are fumbling with his belt and Dean doesn’t know what to say, what to think, what to feel, only his body is already feeling for him, cock jerking awake as Cas’ clumsy fingers push his jeans against his length. Cas doesn’t say anything either, his eyes still on Dean’s face, which probably explains why his hands can’t seem to get Dean’s damn belt off (which he regrets wearing at all, immensely). Either that or it’s because Castiel isn’t experienced with what he seems to be doing, and Dean kind of feels it might be a bit of both, because he can’t imagine the angel…undressing anyone else, nor does he want to. It doesn’t matter because Castiel finally jerks the belt off, taking his sweet time in sliding it out of the belt loops of Dean’s jeans. If Dean hadn’t been afraid of scaring Castiel off and breaking this spell, he might have told Castiel to just leave it. Again it doesn’t matter because the belt's gone, on the floor, and Castiel’s fingers make a much easier task of getting his jeans open.
A heated gasp escapes his lips when Castiel slides his hand inside of his jeans. He’s not even touching Dean’s cock yet, but the feeling is electric. Maybe it’s just knowing that this is a fucking angel that’s palming his cock. Dean forces himself to look up at Castiel’s face. For once Castiel isn’t looking at him, his concentrated gaze on Dean’s groin. Dean’s glad for it, suddenly, because it lets him examine the angel’s features more closely, appreciate the bright blueness of his eyes, and the way the stubble against his jaw fits him perfectly. He’s distracted quite quickly because Castiel’s fingers finally touch his skin and Dean jerks violently, unsure if he’s jerking away or into Castiel’s grasp but it makes no difference because Castiel’s fingers are around his cock and Dean can’t go anywhere anyway. Dean moans low in his throat, not sure if he should be enjoying this, but he is anyway. Castiel nudges him backward and there’s suddenly a bed behind him that Dean’s falling back onto. Whether it was there before or not, Dean doesn’t know because all he knows, all he’s ever known is Castiel, or at least that’s what it feels like as Castiel climbs onto the bed beside him, hand still wrapped around Dean’s hard cock.
“Dean.” Castiel’s voice is commanding. Dean doesn’t know what he wants, but whatever it is, he’s willing to do it. Dean pulls himself onto his elbows, gritting his teeth but forcing his eyes open. Castiel’s hand hasn’t even moved and Dean desperately wants it to. He pushes his hips forward, moaning loudly at the first moment of friction, but he’s stilled by Castiel’s other hand on his hip and the angel looming over him. His jaw tilts upwards so his face can follow Castiel’s face, those blue eyes of his captivating Dean’s mind (or it could be the hand on his cock, either way he’s willing to do whatever Castiel wants). Despite the intimacy of the position they are already in, Castiel hasn’t kissed him yet and he quickly amends this as his lips descend upon Dean’s. It’s the first time that Dean has ever been kissed by another man. It’s a short, dry kiss, but hardly unpleasant. Castiel leans his head against Dean’s, gazing into his eyes and Dean can’t look at anything else. He can’t even close his eyes, even though Castiel’s hand starts to move at an actual rhythm. It lasts only for a moment though, that rhythm, because Castiel decides he wants to move away from Dean. Dean, in turn, lets out a sound that he would embarrassingly call a whine. The sound is cut short, though, because he realizes Castiel isn’t really going anywhere, only changing tactics.
Cas’s face is now hovering near the opening of Dean’s jeans where Dean is clearly very aroused. Dean leans back further against the bed, but keeps enough leverage so that he can still watch what Cas is doing. There isn’t much warning when Castiel wraps his mouth around Dean’s cock and takes so much of it inside the warm cavern of his mouth, Dean has to strain not to come right there. Castiel gives his vessel’s mouth a moment to adjust to Dean because Jimmy Novak clearly never sucked much cock. Dean hopes Castiel hasn’t either. Dean’s groaning low in his throat, needing to get the tension, the pleasure out somehow since he can’t shift without coming hard and fast. After a moment of thinking about disgustingly unpleasant things (like Lucifer and his peeling face), Dean feels a bit more comfortable that he’ll be able to last long enough to see if Castiel has any natural talent in that mouth of his. He presses his hips forward, gentle and short, just enough to let Castiel know he’s ready for more. He doesn’t know if it’s enough though, so he quickly threads his fingers through Castiel’s hair, encouraging and hopeful. That, at least, seems to give Castiel the guidance he needs and then he’s mouthing Dean’s cock. Maybe Dean’s just that turned on but Castiel’s mouth feels pretty damn good. He makes an effort to keep his eyes open, watching Castiel’s head bobbing between his hips, letting his eyes meet the blue ones staring back at him, both determined and calculating. Dean doesn’t think there can be any doubt that he thinks Castiel is doing a damn fine job with the way he’s groaning, the way he has to restrain from pumping his hips into Castiel’s mouth.
When Castiel wraps one of his long fingered hands around the base of Dean’s cock, Dean knows that not even Lucifer can make that feeling any less awesome then it is and he lets his hips jerk a little faster into Castiel’s mouth. It was a short journey, he knows, but he can’t be fucking blamed for that when Castiel acts like he’s fucking innocent and then does this with his mouth, all blue eyes, long fingers and the warmest mouth Dean has ever felt. Dean’s panting his name by now, unashamed because he can feel the pleasure curling in his spine and damn, it’s a shame that they hadn’t done this before. A second later the world is blinding white except those two blue orbs still staring at him, even as Castiel sucks down everything Dean offers into his mouth, milking Dean expertly through the orgasm. Dean keeps his hand buried in Castiel’s hair, though he doesn’t stop Castiel from pulling his mouth off of Dean’s cock when Dean’s done exploding. His fingers curl and uncurl in Castiel’s hair as he breaths hard and deep gasps.
“Cas-“ Dean’s voice is much too high, too breathy, and he pauses to clear his throat so he doesn’t sound like such a newbie at this whole thing, especially since Castiel is looking at him, all calm and nonchalant, like it [i]is[/i] something he does all the time and once again, Dean doesn’t want to think about that possibility, so he forces the thought aside and continues speaking. “-Cas, what the hell was that all about?”
There’s a very long pause, in which Castiel is staring at him with those intense blue eyes. It makes Dean extremely uncomfortable, but he doesn’t look away. It also makes him feel pretty stupid for asking that question in the first place, because he knows what a blowjob is and he knows Castiel gave him a damn good one. His thoughts drift back to when he and Castiel visited the brothel and how inexperienced and uncomfortable Castiel seemed, but he’s also glad that nothing happened, because that hooker didn’t have a cock that Castiel could suck so expertly. And, [i]again[/i], Dean wonders why he’s thinking about that when Castiel is still staring at him, still hovering at Dean’s thighs, still with those glistening red lips. Finally, Castiel speaks and Dean thinks it’s about damn time. “I thought…I thought this is what you wanted,” Castiel sounds uncertain, for once, but the way his head tilts to one side, questioningly, is more like Castiel. At first, Dean doesn’t know what he’s talking about. What on earth had given Castiel the idea that he wanted a blowjob from him, and then he remembers how Castiel how commented how Dean wasn’t strong enough to resist Michael and Dean had turned to him and…
Blow me, Cas.
Perhaps Dean should have known better than to use some kind of human saying to Castiel with such a connotation. Castiel has shown many times how clueless he can be when it comes to the manners of humans. Dean nods, laughing a little while Castiel looks on, bemused. Dean nods his head, running his fingers through Castiel’s hair and bringing their mouths together for a filthy kiss. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
Dean thinks he should know better than to tell Castiel something he didn’t really mean but at this point, sated and spent, he thinks it might be okay if he lets Castiel misinterpret a few other choice phrases (kiss my ass is the first thing that springs to mind).