Only Someone Running
Title: Only Someone Running
Pairing: Destiel
Warnings/rating/genre: R
Spoiler: up to S7 of Supernatural.
Word Count: 1326
Summary: After the Porn Watching Incident, Cas has apparently been watching some and... Dean's intrigued. :)
Disclaimer: I own no one and nothing, other than some books, DVDs and cds, much to my sadness.
“At least you’re not wondering about babysitters anymore.”
“What?”
“Remember? The... porn?”
“Oh... I still don’t understand why the people who are supposed to love each other always end up spanking or biting - “
“Wait, you’ve been watching more?”
“Sometimes... Then there’s the times the guys hit each other with their penises-”
“What? You’re watching... gay porn?”
“I do seem to prefer it. I get more insistent... what you call hard-”
“Yes, ok, understood,” said Dean.
It’d been days since Cas and Dean had had that conversation, and, as he sat staring out the window of his Impala, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. The sun was burning his skin and his breakfast sandwich was getting cold but he didn’t care. Life was just a buzzing in his ear. Eventually, he got a text from Sam, saying he’d be at the library for at least a few hours more.
Still in a daze, he finally headed into his motel room and sat in bed. He was tired, as he hadn’t been able to sleep. His mind was so out of his control, that he felt Cas was taking nibbles of his mind, of his bed, of his skin.
He turned on the TV and felt compelled to start running through the few channels available. His heart pounded and his stomach felt sick as he thought of finding the gay porn channel. Was he really doing this? He froze as soon the channel appeared. Just a few clicks on the remote and he’d be watching ‘Lord of the Cock Ring’.
Even as a cold chill rose up in him, he chuckled at the title.
“Dean.”
Dean jumped off the bed and stood, staring at Cas, who stood in the kitchen.
“What are you looking at?”
“Um, nothing, nothing,” he said, turning the TV off.
Cas cocked his head, smiling knowingly.
“I think I could show you something better,” his voice rougher.
“Um, what-” said Dean, nervously laughing.
“It’s better if you don’t talk,” said Cas.
Dean’s brows shot up, and he was simply bewildered as Cas came up to him. Cas licked his lips, looking at Dean up and down, seemingly less out of lust than simply running through what he’d learned and trying to decide what to do.
Finally, he smiled and said “I think you’ll enjoy this.”
He came up to Dean and Dean was surprised by how longed for this moment felt. He then cupped Dean’s face gently, the roughness and strength of his hands pleasing to Dean. Cas seemed transported and for a minute was seemingly lost in the touching of his skin. Dean suddenly felt naked, bare, to see someone so enthralled. Cas looked up and looked into his eyes.
He smiled gently and now pulled Dean into him, with more playfulness than Dean expected. The kiss then, was searing, hot and insistent, confident and melting, his lips far softer than Dean had imagined. He felt himself present, every cell of him aware, his sleeplessness had made his skin and lips sensitive, as if raw, so that he felt Cas completely. He felt Cas with his lips, his hands, his heart.
And it was happy. He was his.
Cas unbuttoned his shirt, removing it and holding him around the waist. Before Dean could reciprocate, Cas was pressing himself against him and fondling him. Dean smiled: he had to take the reins now, he realized, as porn for gay men was probably as porn for straight men was: straight to the point. No storylines or music or much kissing. There would be blowjobs and fucking and this was going to happen fast.
The thought made a sharp heat go through his body and he realized this wouldn’t be an altogether bad thing.
He took Cas and pulled him down onto the bed, and he felt a surprise at not having long hair fall over his face, of no roundness or softness in the chest or shoulders, but hard squareness. Even the skin was different, not velvety smooth, but somewhat rough.
The realization of this difference made him take his time, lingering in kissing Cas’s fingers, sucking gently on his lips, in gripping his back, stroking it with his nails, dragging his hand across his forearms, feeling their long and strong legs intermingling, feeling him hard against him, exploring him with kisses and bites, licks and hot breath.
When Cas knelt and got between his legs, he tried to relax, preparing himself, but instead, Cas eased him into it, lingering as if they had all the time in the world. He first wet his finger, grabbed a sheet corner and pushed two fingers wrapped in it, into his mouth, soaking the sheet.
He eased Dean by holding him steadily, pushing down on his belly, and he gently began massaging him.
Dean squirmed, saying “Ah, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
He felt exposed, so Cas responded by smothering him with kisses.
“You know you like this,” Cas whispered.
He felt the two fingers occasionally wiggling in, but only gently, only barely.
When Dean seemed comfortable, Cas grabbed a condom, again inserted his fingers into it, sucking on it a bit, then slowly, slowly, saying “yeah, yeah”, he pushed his fingers into Dean. Dean had let out a gasp, so Cas stayed still, watching him closely, moving again, gently.
“Say you want me, say you want me to fuck you,” said Cas.
“Fuck, Cas.”
“Just say it, say it,” said Cas, now pulling Dean’s hair and licking his exposed neck.
“Yes, yes, fuck, please, fuck me.”
When Cas had finally entered him, he’d expected pain, and there was, but there was patience, spit, kisses and desire than anything. Cas had grabbed his hand, their fingers tightly interlaced.
“Cas, I’m your fucking-”
“I said ‘no talking’,” whispered Cas.
Per Cas’s instructions, neither spoke, but that only made things far more intense: the only sounds in the world were their breaths, their rushing blood, their bodies hitting, the sound of the sheets moving.
As he started to truly let go, Dean felt a familiar shame and guilt that would creep up on him, the one that came whenever he fucked anyone, the reason he’d blast music, the reason he’d drink, letting it all drown out his thoughts. He needed to banish the feelings that were rushing in.
“Come here,” he said.
He grabbed Cas and flipped him over onto his back, surprising Cas. He held him by the shoulders, and paused for a few seconds before pushing himself deeper and deeper in, grinding his hips into Cas, searching for the place that gave a stronger pleasure, the sharp tingling that would suddenly shoot through his body not enough.
“You like that, Cas, don’t you? You love it, ah, you love how I fuck you. How I’m fucking riding you."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
He kept going harder and harder, until he could barely breathe and his body was burning, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care, because the feeling of shame was almost gone. Cas’s hands stroked his stomach, his chest, his arms, almost reverentially, in awe, with affection. he leaned back onto him, moaning at the sudden pain and pleasure that came from it, from their bodies tightly interlocked, sweaty and burning, tight and no longer able to move very much. He started to squirm on top of Cas, smelling his skin, kissing him, looking into his eyes, pulling at his hair.
“God damn it, Cas,” he said, moaning as he felt the pleasure mounting.
He wanted to throw his head back but Cas held him close, Dean barely moving, having reached just the place he needed, his heart pounding in his ears. He felt his whole body tense and rise, and there was finally that release, that melting explosion that went in waves through his body, his entire body shaking, he stayed pressed against him, prolonging it until he was no longer hard.
“Damn, Cas,” he said, laughing.
A/N: Heavy debt of gratitude is owed to the CD “The Letting Go” by Bonnie “Prince” Billy, for helping me when I had some writer's block. The title is from his song from the 'Superwolf' album, as the song is oddly fitting! Also, thanks to Dirgesong for creating the X-mas Fic Exchange!