body shots (1/1)
Title: Body Shots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Humor/Romance
Pairings or Characters: Dean/Cas
Warnings: somewhat public sex
Word Count: 2256
Summary: Alcohol-induced decisions are sometimes the best.
Body Shots
Dean really likes jobs down in Texas. The weather is always too hot and the locals get really touchy when you have to blow up their landmarks because it's been turned into a vampire nest, but after the job is over, you get to hit the bars, and no one parties like the Texans. Especially when practically every shot they demand you take is tequila.
Sam is already drunk out of his mind at the bar, slobbering over a bowl of cashews with some brunette sitting next to him, rubbing his back. Dean can't hear him now, but last he heard, Sam was mourning all the hot women who died after having sex with him. Dean feels for him, he does--having a reaper in your pants is kind of a buzzkill--but he's got a lot of tequila in him and an angel waiting back at the booth, so he leaves him to slobber all over the hot twenty-something who will probably give up on trying to take him home by the time he gets to the whole demon ex-girlfriend bit.
Salt and lime in hand, Dean makes his way back to the table, grinning at Cas in a way that only copious amounts of alcohol can let him do without feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. Cas is still staring at the line of shot glasses with his eyebrows furrowed.
"Trying to stare a hole into the table, dude?" Dean asks, only slurring a little bit.
"I don't understand why you insisted on bringing me here, Dean. You don't have enough money for the alcohol needed to get me intoxicated," Cas points out, finally looking up from the table to settle his blue gaze on Dean. Dean's stomach does a little flippy thing which he blames entirely on the alcohol and not Cas' mouth, which his eyes may or may not be totally focused on right now.
"I'm not trying to get you drunk," Dean shrugs, putting the salt down on the table and grabbing the knife to start cutting the lime, "The shots are totally for me."
"That's a bit selfish of you," Cas says, though he doesn't sound surprised or all that bothered. Dean feels a bit guilty that Cas is used to Dean's selfishness by now, but he shakes his head and keeps focused.
"Yeah, well, this part is for you."
Cas makes an intrigued noise and settles back into the booth, watching intently as Dean slices the lime into wedges. Dean's drunk brain came up with the idea about an hour ago, but he needed a lot more shots in him before he could actually find the guts to do it. He'd made sure to steer Cas towards one of the seats in the back, away from the rest of the bar, giving them privacy. They aren't exactly hidden, but with most everyone inside the building somewhere between tipsy and drunk off their ass, the chances of getting noticed are slim to none.
"Hey, Cas, you trust me, yeah?" Dean asks, finished with the lime.
"Absolutely," Cas nods without hesitation, and Dean beams, pushing away from the table to lean into the booth. His hands go for Cas' tie and Cas looks down curiously, watching Dean undo the knot and slide the tie out of his collar. "Dean?"
"It'll be fun, I promise," Dean smiles. His hands move to the buttons on Cas' shirt, tugging them open quickly, while Cas continues to look on in silence. He tugs the shirt out from Cas' slacks, wondering if Cas likes to tuck his shirt in or if he just kept it like that because Jimmy did. Jacket, shirt and trench coat pulled down to his elbows, Dean pushes Cas back onto the booth, leaving him laying down with his legs hanging off the edge around Dean.
"I'm not understanding the fun of being stripped half naked and laid out in a booth at a bar," Cas grumbles, but Dean ignores him, grabbing the salt off the table and shaking some out onto Cas' bare stomach. "And I don't understand being peppered with salt. I'm not a demon, Dean."
Dean rolls his eyes and orders, "Cas, open your mouth."
Cas' eyes jump open and he slowly obeys, only to get a lime wedge shoved between his lips. He mumbles around it but Dean can't understand him, and he figures it's just more of Cas complaining about not understanding, so he doesn't really mind.
"Alright, you ready?" Dean asks, grabbing one of the shot glasses off the table. Cas eyes him warily but nods. Dean takes a deep breath and mumbles, "Here goes."
Hovering over the booth, Dean leans forward and slides his tongue against Cas' stomach, licking the salt off of his cool skin. Beneath him, Cas' stomach flinches and he sucks in a breath, which is quite the reaction for an angel that doesn't need to breathe unless he wants to. Dean smirks, gathering the last of the salt on his tongue, and leans further, downing the shot of tequila before dropping down to grab the lime wedge out of Cas' mouth with his teeth. Cas gasps when Dean pulls away, sucking at the lime in his mouth. Dean winces and shakes his head as the tequila goes down, making a loud hiss when he takes the lime out of his mouth.
"So, did you like that?" Dean asks through a laugh, licking his lips, and he expects some form of I still don't understand the purpose of this, Dean but what he gets is a wide-eyed angel, breathing hard and digging his fingers into the material of the booth.
"Oh," Dean says dumbly, "I guess you did."
Dean's not sure what exactly he thought would happen. His drunk brain had thought it was a genius idea, but hadn't really registered any consequences, but now Cas is looking at him, thoroughly confused and, even through the haze of tequila and bad decision making, clearly horny. Dean swallows loudly and reaches a hand down, rubbing a thumb against the dip of Cas' stomach where his tongue had been moments before, and Cas flinches, dragging air in through his teeth.
"Hey, Cas," Dean says, voice barely louder than a whisper. Cas stays silent, staring at him with anxious eyes, and waits. "You trust me, right?"
"Absolutely," Cas breathes, nodding his head.
Dean smiles and starts pushing him further into the booth until he has to sit up against the wall. He doesn't ask what's going on, but he still looks confused and almost afraid while Dean fumbles his way into the booth, too, sitting on his knees and going straight for Cas' belt. It doesn't take long, even with his hand-eye coordination thoroughly ruined by tequila, for Dean to get Cas' belt and pants undone and he grins at how hard the angel is in his boxers. He slides them down just enough to let Cas' erection free and leans forward, body hidden behind the table. Cas makes a noise when Dean wraps a hand around the base of his cock and squeezes and Dean hums, dropping his head to lick the head. Cas actually squeaks and starts to shuffle his legs, which Dean has to press back into the side of the booth to stop Cas from kicking him under the table. Dean glances up, hand starting to move around Cas' cock, and Cas is staring at him, terrified and trusting all at once.
"Don't worry, this'll be fun," Dean smiles before turning his eyes back down and taking Cas' dick into his mouth as far as he can.
Immediately, Cas' hand grabs into Dean's hair, fingers and body shaking under the feeling of Dean's mouth while Dean quietly marvels at how hot Cas is in his mouth, despite the rest of his skin being just as cool as ever. Dean's hand, pressed into Cas' thigh through his slacks, rubs a comforting thumb into his skin to help ease his shaking, because this is supposed to be nice, not terrifying. Dean isn't new to dick, but he's not one with a talent for deepthroating, so he keeps the thrusts shallow, taking Cas' cock as far as he can and using his hand to stroke the rest of it. Cas doesn't seem to mind, if the noises he's making are any indication, but Dean tries to take him a little deeper each time anyway.
Despite Dean's attempt to get Cas deflowered at that brothel, and all those run ins with Meg, Dean's confident that this is the first action Cas has ever gotten, but he's catching on, body naturally falling into rhythm with Dean's lips. Cas starts to move his hips, pressing his cock further into Dean's mouth every time he bobs his head down.
Dean's hand drops back down to the base of his dick and squeezes, rubbing a thumb down against his balls, and Cas lets out a hiss that for a second feels like it's shaking the whole bar. Cas starts to breathe heavy and loud, biting his lip to try and keep his moans quiet, but Dean's mind is so far gone that he couldn't care less if Cas decide to start shouting in earnest and the entire bar turned around to watch.
For an angel, Dean's surprised at how little stamina Cas has, because soon he's groaning and digging both hands through Dean's hair, pulling him down harder and thrusting up a little faster, all signs that he's close to coming. Dean lets him, until it starts to be too much and he pulls back, Cas freezing and making panicked little noises, like he's afraid he's done something wrong.
"Dean, I'm--"
"It's fine, Cas, calm down," Dean reassures, sliding his hand up Cas' thigh to press against his waist and hold him steady.
He moves to take Cas back into his mouth, but he pauses to lick teasingly at the head of Cas' cock. The feel of his tongue, soft and wet and warm, makes Cas' fingers clench in Dean's hair, desperate noises leaking out of him, as he comes, painting Dean's lips and cheek white.
Cas gawks down at him, face pale and breathing heavy, before grabbing a napkin off the table and attacking Dean's face with it.
"I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't know-- this is all very new-- I didn't mean to--" he mumbles, doing a better job smearing his come around Dean's face than actually cleaning it. Dean takes his hand and slows him down, wiping the come off his face and dropping the napkin on the table.
"Dude, it's cool. Next time you'll know, and you can warn me," Dean shrugs, sitting up in the booth and leaning forward, but suddenly hesitates, inches away from Cas' face. The tequila buzz is telling him that it's fine--after sucking his dick, what's a kiss or two?--but somewhere, he's still afraid of what that means and if Cas is even okay with this. But Cas understands what he's thinking over, because he grabs Dean by the collar and pulls him the rest of the way, pressing their mouths together. Cas' lips still taste a little like lime, and Dean's probably taste like a mix of citrus and come, but Cas doesn't mind, opening his lips and letting Dean's tongue in to lick the flavor off his teeth.
They sit there awkwardly in the booth for a while, Dean on his knees between Cas' legs, one squished against the booth and the other dangling off the seat under the table, still half-undressed with his softening cock hanging out of his slacks. The pizza man is apparently a good teacher, because Cas knows what he's doing, but Dean is determined not to be shown up, and brings out his A game--or at least, the best game he can with him still being quite drunk.
Suddenly, there's a hand against his crotch, squeezing his hardening dick through his jeans, and Dean pulls away from the kiss, letting out a groan. He blinks up at Cas and Cas is staring at him intently, hand grinding down against his cock. Dean sucks in a breath and grabs Cas by the shoulder, pushing him back, but not very hard.
"Dude, you're gonna make me--" he tries to warn, but Cas is still moving his hand, rubbing and squeezing and sliding until Dean moans and presses his hips forward, thrusting into Cas' grip. His head falls forward after a few more seconds, pressing into Cas' neck as he comes in his pants. When he catches his breath back, he slurs sloppily, "That, uh, doesn't usually... happen. 'S 'cause I'm drunk, I swear."
Cas presses two fingers to his forehead and in a flash, the drunken haze is gone, and everything is perfectly clear. The sounds of the bar rush through Dean's ears and he's now acutely aware of how visible they are, if someone knows where to look.
"Now that you're no longer intoxicated," Cas says slowly, and Dean focuses back on him, eyes flicking down to his mouth before he can stop them, "would it be possible to continue? Perhaps in a more private place?"
Dean blinks for a moment before grinning wide, sliding a hand up Cas' neck and into his hair, pulling him forward for another kiss.
"We can't forget Sam," Dean says against his lips and Cas makes a noise.
"He is still mourning the death of all of his sex partners. I believe he can wait."
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Humor/Romance
Pairings or Characters: Dean/Cas
Warnings: somewhat public sex
Word Count: 2256
Summary: Alcohol-induced decisions are sometimes the best.
Body Shots
Dean really likes jobs down in Texas. The weather is always too hot and the locals get really touchy when you have to blow up their landmarks because it's been turned into a vampire nest, but after the job is over, you get to hit the bars, and no one parties like the Texans. Especially when practically every shot they demand you take is tequila.
Sam is already drunk out of his mind at the bar, slobbering over a bowl of cashews with some brunette sitting next to him, rubbing his back. Dean can't hear him now, but last he heard, Sam was mourning all the hot women who died after having sex with him. Dean feels for him, he does--having a reaper in your pants is kind of a buzzkill--but he's got a lot of tequila in him and an angel waiting back at the booth, so he leaves him to slobber all over the hot twenty-something who will probably give up on trying to take him home by the time he gets to the whole demon ex-girlfriend bit.
Salt and lime in hand, Dean makes his way back to the table, grinning at Cas in a way that only copious amounts of alcohol can let him do without feeling self-conscious and embarrassed. Cas is still staring at the line of shot glasses with his eyebrows furrowed.
"Trying to stare a hole into the table, dude?" Dean asks, only slurring a little bit.
"I don't understand why you insisted on bringing me here, Dean. You don't have enough money for the alcohol needed to get me intoxicated," Cas points out, finally looking up from the table to settle his blue gaze on Dean. Dean's stomach does a little flippy thing which he blames entirely on the alcohol and not Cas' mouth, which his eyes may or may not be totally focused on right now.
"I'm not trying to get you drunk," Dean shrugs, putting the salt down on the table and grabbing the knife to start cutting the lime, "The shots are totally for me."
"That's a bit selfish of you," Cas says, though he doesn't sound surprised or all that bothered. Dean feels a bit guilty that Cas is used to Dean's selfishness by now, but he shakes his head and keeps focused.
"Yeah, well, this part is for you."
Cas makes an intrigued noise and settles back into the booth, watching intently as Dean slices the lime into wedges. Dean's drunk brain came up with the idea about an hour ago, but he needed a lot more shots in him before he could actually find the guts to do it. He'd made sure to steer Cas towards one of the seats in the back, away from the rest of the bar, giving them privacy. They aren't exactly hidden, but with most everyone inside the building somewhere between tipsy and drunk off their ass, the chances of getting noticed are slim to none.
"Hey, Cas, you trust me, yeah?" Dean asks, finished with the lime.
"Absolutely," Cas nods without hesitation, and Dean beams, pushing away from the table to lean into the booth. His hands go for Cas' tie and Cas looks down curiously, watching Dean undo the knot and slide the tie out of his collar. "Dean?"
"It'll be fun, I promise," Dean smiles. His hands move to the buttons on Cas' shirt, tugging them open quickly, while Cas continues to look on in silence. He tugs the shirt out from Cas' slacks, wondering if Cas likes to tuck his shirt in or if he just kept it like that because Jimmy did. Jacket, shirt and trench coat pulled down to his elbows, Dean pushes Cas back onto the booth, leaving him laying down with his legs hanging off the edge around Dean.
"I'm not understanding the fun of being stripped half naked and laid out in a booth at a bar," Cas grumbles, but Dean ignores him, grabbing the salt off the table and shaking some out onto Cas' bare stomach. "And I don't understand being peppered with salt. I'm not a demon, Dean."
Dean rolls his eyes and orders, "Cas, open your mouth."
Cas' eyes jump open and he slowly obeys, only to get a lime wedge shoved between his lips. He mumbles around it but Dean can't understand him, and he figures it's just more of Cas complaining about not understanding, so he doesn't really mind.
"Alright, you ready?" Dean asks, grabbing one of the shot glasses off the table. Cas eyes him warily but nods. Dean takes a deep breath and mumbles, "Here goes."
Hovering over the booth, Dean leans forward and slides his tongue against Cas' stomach, licking the salt off of his cool skin. Beneath him, Cas' stomach flinches and he sucks in a breath, which is quite the reaction for an angel that doesn't need to breathe unless he wants to. Dean smirks, gathering the last of the salt on his tongue, and leans further, downing the shot of tequila before dropping down to grab the lime wedge out of Cas' mouth with his teeth. Cas gasps when Dean pulls away, sucking at the lime in his mouth. Dean winces and shakes his head as the tequila goes down, making a loud hiss when he takes the lime out of his mouth.
"So, did you like that?" Dean asks through a laugh, licking his lips, and he expects some form of I still don't understand the purpose of this, Dean but what he gets is a wide-eyed angel, breathing hard and digging his fingers into the material of the booth.
"Oh," Dean says dumbly, "I guess you did."
Dean's not sure what exactly he thought would happen. His drunk brain had thought it was a genius idea, but hadn't really registered any consequences, but now Cas is looking at him, thoroughly confused and, even through the haze of tequila and bad decision making, clearly horny. Dean swallows loudly and reaches a hand down, rubbing a thumb against the dip of Cas' stomach where his tongue had been moments before, and Cas flinches, dragging air in through his teeth.
"Hey, Cas," Dean says, voice barely louder than a whisper. Cas stays silent, staring at him with anxious eyes, and waits. "You trust me, right?"
"Absolutely," Cas breathes, nodding his head.
Dean smiles and starts pushing him further into the booth until he has to sit up against the wall. He doesn't ask what's going on, but he still looks confused and almost afraid while Dean fumbles his way into the booth, too, sitting on his knees and going straight for Cas' belt. It doesn't take long, even with his hand-eye coordination thoroughly ruined by tequila, for Dean to get Cas' belt and pants undone and he grins at how hard the angel is in his boxers. He slides them down just enough to let Cas' erection free and leans forward, body hidden behind the table. Cas makes a noise when Dean wraps a hand around the base of his cock and squeezes and Dean hums, dropping his head to lick the head. Cas actually squeaks and starts to shuffle his legs, which Dean has to press back into the side of the booth to stop Cas from kicking him under the table. Dean glances up, hand starting to move around Cas' cock, and Cas is staring at him, terrified and trusting all at once.
"Don't worry, this'll be fun," Dean smiles before turning his eyes back down and taking Cas' dick into his mouth as far as he can.
Immediately, Cas' hand grabs into Dean's hair, fingers and body shaking under the feeling of Dean's mouth while Dean quietly marvels at how hot Cas is in his mouth, despite the rest of his skin being just as cool as ever. Dean's hand, pressed into Cas' thigh through his slacks, rubs a comforting thumb into his skin to help ease his shaking, because this is supposed to be nice, not terrifying. Dean isn't new to dick, but he's not one with a talent for deepthroating, so he keeps the thrusts shallow, taking Cas' cock as far as he can and using his hand to stroke the rest of it. Cas doesn't seem to mind, if the noises he's making are any indication, but Dean tries to take him a little deeper each time anyway.
Despite Dean's attempt to get Cas deflowered at that brothel, and all those run ins with Meg, Dean's confident that this is the first action Cas has ever gotten, but he's catching on, body naturally falling into rhythm with Dean's lips. Cas starts to move his hips, pressing his cock further into Dean's mouth every time he bobs his head down.
Dean's hand drops back down to the base of his dick and squeezes, rubbing a thumb down against his balls, and Cas lets out a hiss that for a second feels like it's shaking the whole bar. Cas starts to breathe heavy and loud, biting his lip to try and keep his moans quiet, but Dean's mind is so far gone that he couldn't care less if Cas decide to start shouting in earnest and the entire bar turned around to watch.
For an angel, Dean's surprised at how little stamina Cas has, because soon he's groaning and digging both hands through Dean's hair, pulling him down harder and thrusting up a little faster, all signs that he's close to coming. Dean lets him, until it starts to be too much and he pulls back, Cas freezing and making panicked little noises, like he's afraid he's done something wrong.
"Dean, I'm--"
"It's fine, Cas, calm down," Dean reassures, sliding his hand up Cas' thigh to press against his waist and hold him steady.
He moves to take Cas back into his mouth, but he pauses to lick teasingly at the head of Cas' cock. The feel of his tongue, soft and wet and warm, makes Cas' fingers clench in Dean's hair, desperate noises leaking out of him, as he comes, painting Dean's lips and cheek white.
Cas gawks down at him, face pale and breathing heavy, before grabbing a napkin off the table and attacking Dean's face with it.
"I'm sorry, Dean, I didn't know-- this is all very new-- I didn't mean to--" he mumbles, doing a better job smearing his come around Dean's face than actually cleaning it. Dean takes his hand and slows him down, wiping the come off his face and dropping the napkin on the table.
"Dude, it's cool. Next time you'll know, and you can warn me," Dean shrugs, sitting up in the booth and leaning forward, but suddenly hesitates, inches away from Cas' face. The tequila buzz is telling him that it's fine--after sucking his dick, what's a kiss or two?--but somewhere, he's still afraid of what that means and if Cas is even okay with this. But Cas understands what he's thinking over, because he grabs Dean by the collar and pulls him the rest of the way, pressing their mouths together. Cas' lips still taste a little like lime, and Dean's probably taste like a mix of citrus and come, but Cas doesn't mind, opening his lips and letting Dean's tongue in to lick the flavor off his teeth.
They sit there awkwardly in the booth for a while, Dean on his knees between Cas' legs, one squished against the booth and the other dangling off the seat under the table, still half-undressed with his softening cock hanging out of his slacks. The pizza man is apparently a good teacher, because Cas knows what he's doing, but Dean is determined not to be shown up, and brings out his A game--or at least, the best game he can with him still being quite drunk.
Suddenly, there's a hand against his crotch, squeezing his hardening dick through his jeans, and Dean pulls away from the kiss, letting out a groan. He blinks up at Cas and Cas is staring at him intently, hand grinding down against his cock. Dean sucks in a breath and grabs Cas by the shoulder, pushing him back, but not very hard.
"Dude, you're gonna make me--" he tries to warn, but Cas is still moving his hand, rubbing and squeezing and sliding until Dean moans and presses his hips forward, thrusting into Cas' grip. His head falls forward after a few more seconds, pressing into Cas' neck as he comes in his pants. When he catches his breath back, he slurs sloppily, "That, uh, doesn't usually... happen. 'S 'cause I'm drunk, I swear."
Cas presses two fingers to his forehead and in a flash, the drunken haze is gone, and everything is perfectly clear. The sounds of the bar rush through Dean's ears and he's now acutely aware of how visible they are, if someone knows where to look.
"Now that you're no longer intoxicated," Cas says slowly, and Dean focuses back on him, eyes flicking down to his mouth before he can stop them, "would it be possible to continue? Perhaps in a more private place?"
Dean blinks for a moment before grinning wide, sliding a hand up Cas' neck and into his hair, pulling him forward for another kiss.
"We can't forget Sam," Dean says against his lips and Cas makes a noise.
"He is still mourning the death of all of his sex partners. I believe he can wait."