(Untitled)
The Public Sex Meme
This is for all you people out there who like a bit of a thrill. Does the thought of getting caught at any moment turn you on? Well, this meme is the one for you!
- Post with your characters name, fandom and any preferences
- Others respond to your post
- Roll RNG 1-11 for a location! The rest is kind of self-explanitory!
1) The ( Read more... )
He isn't distracted, but he lets the demon's fingers pluck at the buttons of his dress shirt anyway, because more than he'd like to admit, he craves the feel of skin on skin. His own hand at Crowley's side slips to palm over his chest, snake up under his suit jacket. It's perhaps not the best idea he's had; the button on the front pops off as his hand moves up. Completely unintentional, but it's achieved the desired effect of opening the suit coat and exposing more buttons and he can't really find it in his heart to care very much.
Fingers continue to stroke through sleek black feathers, not exactly an apology but placating enough, he supposes.]
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His fingers slowly unfastening the pearly buttons of the angel's dress shirt, slipping inside to touch against smooth skin. There's a whimper of protest against the angel's lips when the buttons of his suit coat pop off, and go bouncing along the asphalt somewhere in the dark. But, Crowley can't manage to find it all that important when Castiel's hand slide against his shirt, the other still curling through his feathers. He supposes losing the buttons on one of his jackets is a fair enough price.
But if it becomes a habit, he'd going to have words with the angel. He'd still out a tailor, afterall.]
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There's a soft sigh as fingers find skin, and it's strange that no matter how many times they do this, Castiel always expects them to be cold. They never are, they never feel like anything but skin, but he always expects them to be cold. Maybe it's because of the way the touch makes him shiver, or because he's expecting the protesting flare of his grace and a reminder of what Crowley is... Though it's not as if he needs one. As it is, they're warm, and Castiel arches into the touch.
His hands continue to roam over the demon's chest, not moving to buttons just yet, only palming over the warmth of expensive fabric, dragging across nipples through that thin barrier of cloth. Touching feels good; in this state, it's one of the only things that does, anymore.]
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It makes his lips twitch at the way that the angel shivers against his hands and he strokes his hands up his sides, kisses him harder. There's something to this that the demon doesn't talk about, something about Castiel that always makes him want this. It's not just the physical pleasure, it's something more, something Crowley struggles to not look at too closely because he's honestly not sure he wants to know.
His body quakes as hands palm over the thin fabric of his dress shirt, and he can feel the warmth ebbing through the barrier. He moans into the angel's mouth as fingers find his nipples, and Crowley can't help that bratty response of returning the favor.]
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Hands slide against feathers, ruffling them as fingers trail over a joint, and Castiel sighs into the kiss, pulls back to nip at Crowley's lip. For Castiel, the physical pleasure is the main draw, though the familiarity that comes with the wings is appealing in other ways, even if they do remind him of what he's lost. They're warm and strong in ways he just can't be anymore, and gripping onto them is the closest he imagines he'll ever be to feeling them again. It's worth fraternizing with a demon to be able to feel it, of that much he's absolutely certain. Everything else about this is firmly rooted in a gray area he wishes he'd never been exposed to.
There's a low groan as Crowley's fingers brush over his nipples and he presses closer, rocks his hips a bit as pleasure shoots down his spine. His own fingers trail down Crowley's chest, curl around his hip and Castiel uses the grip to hold him steady as he rocks forward again, more insistently this time. His body's already given away his desire, and so he sees no point in denying what he wants.]
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Crowley shivers as fingers touch against the joint of his wing, and it's sensual and heated and he moans into the kiss. The way the angel touches his wings is hot and aching, and he wants/needs those touches. No one else touches his wings, just Cas, not even Dean being a jerk and tugging at the tip of a feather, anymore. He likes that, likes the way that it feels, the way it always seems to spiral into this. Lips locked together and touching against borrowed skin.
He murmurs as hands hold his hips, Castiel rocking that arousal insistently against him. His body is heated, aching with want, and his fingers circle those nipples once more, sliding down his chest. One hand hovering against the angel's side as the other presses against his arousal.]
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He breaks the kiss, tips his head forward to sigh hotly against Crowley's neck as fingers circle his nipples, and he feels his cock twitch against the inside of his slack at the sensation. It shouldn't feel this good, shouldn't have him grinding his hips against Crowley's again, rocking into his hand... But he supposes it's a little bit late to be thinking about what should and should not be happening here- his body's already decided that it wants this, like it always does, and the state of mind for pulling away just isn't there.
His hands grip against Crowley's sides before sliding up, fingers sliding up his back to smooth over the place where the wings meet his body.]
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His fingers tugging at the closures to the angel's pants, brushing fingers against that erection with a low moan. He likes touching the angel, likes it almost as much as he likes what Castiel's doing. Okay, maybe not quite. Because that touch of fingers, the way they trail soft sensation where his wings meet his body makes him shake, steals an almost embarrassing noise of want and pleasure from his lips. He curls fingers around Castiel's erection, stroking down his length as his other hand grabs his hip and pulls him in closer.
As much as Crowley loves clothes, even he has to admit they're both wearing too god-damn many.]
[ooc: would have been nice if I remembered to hit 'send' last night, yep.]
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[There's a quiet groan and an attempt to still his hips as Castiel realizes what Crowley's trying to do; as much as he hates being so accommodating to a demon, his own desire is undeniable to the extent that he's willing to make some small concessions if it means more touches like that brush of fingers against his clothed cock, if it means more pleasure. He's beginning to understand why Dean chooses this as his preferred method of forgetting, or at least postponing thinking of things he'd prefer not to attend to.
His hands curl in wings and he answers that groan with a sigh of his own, tips his face and latches his mouth to the side of Crowely's throat. There's another moan as fingers curl around his length, and he sucks a mark into Crowley's skin by way of encouragement. He actually lets the demon pull him closer, too, because he's not about to fight him on this, not now. He angles his hips, shifts so that his thigh is pressed up against the front of Crowley's slacks, against the hot, hard line of his cock.]
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