I'll reply to the others after my CPR class <3winchester_lostOctober 1 2011, 08:03:46 UTC
[It's easier to separate cloth from Cass' skin when he pushes away from the wall and helps Dean with the process. Then Dean's reciprocating, shrugging out of his jacket, not caring where things land as long as there's bared skin. He murmurs at the way lips nip at his skin, the way that kisses press to bruises, and it hurts a little, just enough to drag a low murmur from his throat.
He shudders, leaning into Cass' hands as the former angel traces over torn skin, raised red paths of fingernails that are not-quite welts. Then Cass is lifting the shirt off over his head, and Dean is all cooperation, even if it means pulling his hands away from the other man's body. Then they're kissing, or at least something like it, and Dean is nipping and sucking at Cass' lip as surely as the man is at his. He whines as teeth scrape harder against the cut in his lip and the attention has him pressing back heatedly into that mauling kiss.
His hands start at Cass' shoulders, trailing short nails down his torso, along his sides. He gasps, moaning and jerking his hips as a hand cups against that aching erection, and when Cass has his pants mostly undone, Dean's growling against his mouth, grabbing them and shoving them down his muscular legs. He's already starting to work on getting Cass out of his pants while he finishes kicking off his jeans.
This is desperate and aching and hot and he craves this in ways that leave him reeling. He wants Cass' hands on his bruises, he wants this heat, he wants the way their kisses are biting and how Cass' body presses against him.
Ooooh CPR :D pretty bossheavenonhighOctober 1 2011, 17:16:37 UTC
[Cas shivers at Dean's nails raking down his sides; they're blunt and jagged and they catch on his skin. Finally stepping out of his own pants, he kicks them aside and hauls Dean's body closer, hands gripping more bruises into the hunter's hips. Dean's body is taut, all muscle where it's crushing against him and it's scorching, molten fire where they touch. Sweat is beading at his lower back and Cas's fingers slip as they try to keep hold of him, keep them pressed together.
His hips rock forward into Dean's and he makes a strangled sound as his hardness slides against the other man's, slipping easily with the sweat. There's barely any air between them and it's suffocating as Cas brings his mouth to Dean's again, lips parted as they move against Dean's skin.
It's a bone-deep need to be closer that has him gripping the hunter's shoulders hard, fitting his hand over his first mark. If he could he'd burn it there again, burn handprints all over his body, but that kind of power is lost to him and so he just clings to it, fingertips pressing into the raised skin. He's moaning into Dean's mouth out of frustration and need, and he just wants this so much.]
Lol. I pretend it is! It's an EMT class. :)winchester_lostOctober 1 2011, 18:52:33 UTC
[Dean groans as Cass drags him closer, fingers pressing deliciously into bruises on his hips. It's twisted and he knows he shouldn't like it, he's not usually like this, but it's Cass, and somehow that makes it better, makes it good, makes that pain sing into hot-hot pleasure. They're both naked, and the Hunter almost sobs in pleasure as their flesh fits together so fucking perfectly.
Hips jerking and their erections slide together, slicked with sweat, and it's electric fire that's liquid in his vein. The sensation is consuming, and it makes him groan. It's so good, but nowhere near enough. He wants more. He always wants more when it comes to Cass. It's never enough.
Then a hand is gripping his shoulder, fitting to that mark, and it tingles with heat. Cass might have lost his power, but there's still something about that burned handprint. It's erotic and he jerks and clings to Castiel, moaning and trying to pull him closer. He shifts, his other shoulder hitting against the wall, trying with almost incoherent desire to feed that seething desire.
His hands scraping nails against Cass' skin, and while it's not comfort or affection -- not here, not now, not like this -- it's awed and trembling as he tries to pull him closer.]
Hahaha that's definitely very awesomeheavenonhighOctober 2 2011, 18:45:08 UTC
[Cas's body is arching into Dean's and they're pressed together as closely as possible but it still isn't enough, he needs more. More pain, more contact, more of Dean's fingers and nails and teeth. Growling he pushes himself of of the wall, not disentangling their bodies and walks them back to Dean's bed, where he feels certain the hunter has been entertaining some of the camp's female residents at some point in the recent past, if the mussed sheets are any indication.
And maybe he's jealous too, and the fact that he has no right to be doesn't even enter into the equation. He nips at Dean's lip again and pulls them both down, the contact with the mattress and Dean falling on top of him pushing the air out of his lungs. Their bodies knock together and it hurts but it's still not enough. His hand's still pressed over that mark, clinging tightly as he tries to catch his breath, still dizzy from the pain and the drugs. Arching his back again, his legs come up to wrap around Dean's waist, thighs pressing into bruised hips and he breathes out Dean's name at the friction.]
I had my heater at 40. It came on. After CRANKING IT I made hot cocoa. And thought of CassDean. XDwinchester_lostOctober 3 2011, 10:02:26 UTC
[He had, of course. He wasn't even sure what her name had been. It doesn't mean anything. It was supposed to be a balm. It was supposed to make it hurt less. But, if anything, it just seems to make the jealousy sharper. Because he wants the kisses to be Cass', and they aren't. It's grating, and not what he wants, and he pretends it's just part of his cold-asshole demeanor because it's always been easier to go through the motions.
He has no right to be jealous, and yet he still is. It's not like he's told Cass, it's not like he's ever asked for what he wants. But now there's this, and it makes him groan into Cass' mouth as they tumble down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. It hurts, burns, the way their bodies hit bruises as they sink into the mattress. He winches as thighs press at the bruises on his hips, and his arms wrap around Cass' chest, his face nuzzling into the former angel's collarbone in a way that's surprisingly gentle for a few long moments.
He nibbles at it with scrapes of teeth, as if trying to hide how he feels in this sexuality of aggression.]
Guuuh </3 ..lol I had some the other day too and thought of exactly the same thing, happy times :BheavenonhighOctober 3 2011, 19:13:57 UTC
Oh--
[Cas moans at the softness of Dean's face against his chest, then squirms at the teeth. Tilting his head back and exposing his neck, he rocks his hips forward, breath stuttering. It's so good, the gentleness and then the slight burn of pain, the scratch of stubble across his skin, it's so Dean and Cas sighs again and runs his hands up and down Dean's back.
He can't ignore smell of Dean on the sheets, Dean and someone else, and he feels another stab of anger and jealousy. He pulled Dean out of hell, he stayed behind when his family left, he lost everything to follow Dean into hell again... Not whoever it is he can smell on the sheets. And then he's digging little crescents into Dean's skin before he knows what he's doing, trying to drag him closer.]
[Cass tilts his head back, and Dean lets his head slip into the space at his neck and shoulder. He nuzzles at the skin, gasping as fingers dig into his hips, moaning at the feel of it as nails press crescents into his skin. He can feel his own anger reflected back at him, and it draws a low groan from his lips as he jerks his hips and arches up into the former-angel's body above him. There's a part of him that wants to admit to whatever this is, because he wants this, wants him, wants to hold onto this feeling. Because Cass is raw and hot and makes him throb with desire. This is honest for the first time in a long time, instead of just because it's who people think he is.
He nibbles at the skin, nuzzling into Cass' neck, breathing hot words against flesh because he needs this. Jealousy and anger still singing in his veins, that edge of hurt he's still too proud to admit to. But it's there in every touch. It's in the way that hands cling and clutch and the way that he arches into the pain that they both keep pressing into skin. He likes the edge, the sharpness of it. He'd never say it, but he likes those bruises as much as he's cherished that burn Cass left on his shoulder. Because they feel like they mean something, and the red marks of teeth he leaves in Cass' skin make him smile.]
[Cas is writhing under Dean's touches, under the bites and scrapes and nails digging in. The marks that Dean's teeth leave in his skin sting and burn and if Cas had any semblance of thoughts other than more and need and deandeandean he'd probably wonder what it says about him that he's enjoying it this much, arching into the pain and letting it overtake everything else.
Muted curses are spilling from his lips and every brush of Dean's skin against his, every new bruise and welt being pressed or bitten into him is bringing him that much closer to the edge. It's overwhelming and hot and he can't breath through the haze of it. His eyes are slitted and his vision is blurry, pupils too dilated from the pleasure and so he can barely see Dean's face when he's moving forward to crush their mouths together again.]
[On the upside, at least Cass isn't alone in his depravity. Dean's just as guilty of leaning into it, arching into stings and bruises, allowing the former angel's touches to press just that much harder. He's licking at the marks he leaves, sucking over the imprints of his teeth before letting his mouth move to claim more of him. Touches hungry and demanding, whispers of mineminemine he's too scared to say. And so he hurts him just a little, just enough to see his touches burned into his skin.
He's moaning, shaking and shivering as the other man's hands still feel so hot. Touches and fingerprints and bruises feel like burn-scars, feel like they're white-hot and sinking into his skin. It feels like claiming one another and that just makes the trembling sensations hotter. It's embarrassing, but he's not going to last like this. The friction, the hot-sweet burn of need and harsh touches.
Lips soften when their mouths touch, tugging at Cass' lips more than biting, licking and tasting and feeling as hazel-green's flutter closed.]
I feel like this lj maintenance warning is taunting me 8'C noooo down lj :'(heavenonhighOctober 4 2011, 22:42:24 UTC
[He's sighing into the kisses and touches as his hips stutter, jerking into Dean and he's close, so close...]
D-Dean--
[There's a swipe of tongue against his lips and it pushes him over, the soft wetness and the burn of it across the split have him spilling between them, hands roaming over Dean's back and lower, nails scraping and digging with his release. A whimper escapes his lips and it might be Dean's name again, indecipherable through the waves of ecstasy shuddering through his body. It's fierce, this pleasure swallowing him and it has him clinging to Dean, still dragging him closer, afraid of being swept away by the intensity of it.]
I knowwwww. What am I going to do if I can't sneak replies from class tomorrow? xDDDwinchester_lostOctober 4 2011, 23:04:25 UTC
[Dean's head tilts back from the kisses, gasping and moaning, because the way that Cass digs his fingers in is hot and euphoric. The scrape of nails makes him shudder, and all of a sudden he's there, right there with him. He's climaxing and it's hot and hard and so very, very good.]
Oh, fuck, Cass--!
[He's clinging to him, holding on to him, pleasure snaking through him in ways that leave him breathless and light-heated. Holding onto Cass so tight he's sure that his hands leave bruises, and he doesn't mind at all. He's burying his face into the former-angel's neck, murmuring and gasping as he holds onto him tight. He never wants to let him go.]
It's my only day off (kinda) this week, I saw that and wept </3 saaaad ughheavenonhighOctober 5 2011, 00:50:55 UTC
[Cas groans as he feels Dean coming apart with him, hips still twitching towards the heat and friction even though the touch is too much for his sensitive skin. It hurts, and that only makes it hotter, more intense. He breathes in the smell of sweat and Dean and blood and it's so good, makes his eyes flutter and his head fall back against the sheets, small gasps escaping his lips. His heart is slamming in his chest and he tugs Dean closer.
His limbs feel heavy and shake where they're wrapped around Dean's body, holding him in place; he's afraid that if he lets go Dean will slip away, back to being distant and cold. And right now he's not ready to surrender this closeness.]
AWEH! Sad! Well, at least it's only for three hours? My question is why is it at midday, dammit! :(winchester_lostOctober 5 2011, 02:04:21 UTC
[Dean's still jerking his hips against Cass, into that feeling of too much. His body is shaking and sparking with the sensations, hands dragging over the frame under his. He's breathless, and it hurts as his heart pounds hard against his ribcage. His hands are grasping, pulling, trying to gather Cass in closer against him.
His body feels heavy, but good, and he nuzzles into Cass' neck. There's a word murmured into his neck. It's muffled by skin, but it sounds a lot like 'mine'. He slips his hands under Cass' back, not minding where they get tangled in his sheets and contents himself with savoring this moment.]
SERIOUSLY. That's like... Right around noon for me I think. FOR SHAME LJ.heavenonhighOctober 5 2011, 03:25:07 UTC
[Cas can feel that, muttered into his skin, and he's thinking that's probably the reason for everything, for the jealousy, for this fight, for whatever fights they'll inevitably have in the future. The cause and the effect, always the same, invariably leading them here.
He doesn't mind in the slightest.]
Of course.
[It's soft, soft like this isn't and whispered into Dean's hair; He doesn't say always, even though it's true. Cas whimpers slightly as he's pulled against Dean's chest, the hunter's arms are circling around him and pushing into bruises he hadn't realized were there but it's still nice, still feels good and he sighs into the touch, his own hands resting at Dean's back as his breathing begins to even out.]
It's, like... 6pm for me, I think. RIGHT WHEN MY CLASS STARTS. No sneaky replies. 8Cwinchester_lostOctober 5 2011, 03:55:32 UTC
[It's comfort, that response. Dean isn't good enough with this to talk this out, to even really know how. And that means this will probably happen again. But, aside from the hurt and the pain that started it all, it's almost a welcome thought.
He can't help smiling a little as Cass whimpers, his arms pressing into bruises. His breath catches as he shifts and ends up brushing some of his own injuries. It's good, though, warm, and the marks are like reminders of this, and he likes that. Likes knowing that his fingerprints are on the body beneath his, too.]
lmao wow I lied, I'm east coast so it's 6 for me too I think. BOO I SAY.heavenonhighOctober 5 2011, 05:03:32 UTC
[He's so tired now, now that the adrenaline and anger and lust have abated somewhat, and his fingers are tracing lazily along the raised welts on Dean's back that his nails have left. He's also not high anymore, and that coupled with the physical exertion have left his body totally boneless and exhausted, stretched out under Dean.
His limbs are getting cold though and so he pushes his foot around at the sheets, trying to find the one that had slid off the bed when they'd landed on it and drag it up far enough to reach it with his hand. The squirming is aggravating the pain in his chest but he does eventually succeed in reaching a sheet, yanking it up and throwing it over their bodies. It's primarily for warmth, but if he has other motivations like wanting his scent in Dean's bed, he's pointedly ignoring them.]
He shudders, leaning into Cass' hands as the former angel traces over torn skin, raised red paths of fingernails that are not-quite welts. Then Cass is lifting the shirt off over his head, and Dean is all cooperation, even if it means pulling his hands away from the other man's body. Then they're kissing, or at least something like it, and Dean is nipping and sucking at Cass' lip as surely as the man is at his. He whines as teeth scrape harder against the cut in his lip and the attention has him pressing back heatedly into that mauling kiss.
His hands start at Cass' shoulders, trailing short nails down his torso, along his sides. He gasps, moaning and jerking his hips as a hand cups against that aching erection, and when Cass has his pants mostly undone, Dean's growling against his mouth, grabbing them and shoving them down his muscular legs. He's already starting to work on getting Cass out of his pants while he finishes kicking off his jeans.
This is desperate and aching and hot and he craves this in ways that leave him reeling. He wants Cass' hands on his bruises, he wants this heat, he wants the way their kisses are biting and how Cass' body presses against him.
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His hips rock forward into Dean's and he makes a strangled sound as his hardness slides against the other man's, slipping easily with the sweat. There's barely any air between them and it's suffocating as Cas brings his mouth to Dean's again, lips parted as they move against Dean's skin.
It's a bone-deep need to be closer that has him gripping the hunter's shoulders hard, fitting his hand over his first mark. If he could he'd burn it there again, burn handprints all over his body, but that kind of power is lost to him and so he just clings to it, fingertips pressing into the raised skin. He's moaning into Dean's mouth out of frustration and need, and he just wants this so much.]
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Hips jerking and their erections slide together, slicked with sweat, and it's electric fire that's liquid in his vein. The sensation is consuming, and it makes him groan. It's so good, but nowhere near enough. He wants more. He always wants more when it comes to Cass. It's never enough.
Then a hand is gripping his shoulder, fitting to that mark, and it tingles with heat. Cass might have lost his power, but there's still something about that burned handprint. It's erotic and he jerks and clings to Castiel, moaning and trying to pull him closer. He shifts, his other shoulder hitting against the wall, trying with almost incoherent desire to feed that seething desire.
His hands scraping nails against Cass' skin, and while it's not comfort or affection -- not here, not now, not like this -- it's awed and trembling as he tries to pull him closer.]
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And maybe he's jealous too, and the fact that he has no right to be doesn't even enter into the equation. He nips at Dean's lip again and pulls them both down, the contact with the mattress and Dean falling on top of him pushing the air out of his lungs. Their bodies knock together and it hurts but it's still not enough. His hand's still pressed over that mark, clinging tightly as he tries to catch his breath, still dizzy from the pain and the drugs. Arching his back again, his legs come up to wrap around Dean's waist, thighs pressing into bruised hips and he breathes out Dean's name at the friction.]
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He has no right to be jealous, and yet he still is. It's not like he's told Cass, it's not like he's ever asked for what he wants. But now there's this, and it makes him groan into Cass' mouth as they tumble down onto the rumpled sheets of his bed. It hurts, burns, the way their bodies hit bruises as they sink into the mattress. He winches as thighs press at the bruises on his hips, and his arms wrap around Cass' chest, his face nuzzling into the former angel's collarbone in a way that's surprisingly gentle for a few long moments.
He nibbles at it with scrapes of teeth, as if trying to hide how he feels in this sexuality of aggression.]
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[Cas moans at the softness of Dean's face against his chest, then squirms at the teeth. Tilting his head back and exposing his neck, he rocks his hips forward, breath stuttering. It's so good, the gentleness and then the slight burn of pain, the scratch of stubble across his skin, it's so Dean and Cas sighs again and runs his hands up and down Dean's back.
He can't ignore smell of Dean on the sheets, Dean and someone else, and he feels another stab of anger and jealousy. He pulled Dean out of hell, he stayed behind when his family left, he lost everything to follow Dean into hell again... Not whoever it is he can smell on the sheets. And then he's digging little crescents into Dean's skin before he knows what he's doing, trying to drag him closer.]
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[Cass tilts his head back, and Dean lets his head slip into the space at his neck and shoulder. He nuzzles at the skin, gasping as fingers dig into his hips, moaning at the feel of it as nails press crescents into his skin. He can feel his own anger reflected back at him, and it draws a low groan from his lips as he jerks his hips and arches up into the former-angel's body above him. There's a part of him that wants to admit to whatever this is, because he wants this, wants him, wants to hold onto this feeling. Because Cass is raw and hot and makes him throb with desire. This is honest for the first time in a long time, instead of just because it's who people think he is.
He nibbles at the skin, nuzzling into Cass' neck, breathing hot words against flesh because he needs this. Jealousy and anger still singing in his veins, that edge of hurt he's still too proud to admit to. But it's there in every touch. It's in the way that hands cling and clutch and the way that he arches into the pain that they both keep pressing into skin. He likes the edge, the sharpness of it. He'd never say it, but he likes those bruises as much as he's cherished that burn Cass left on his shoulder. Because they feel like they mean something, and the red marks of teeth he leaves in Cass' skin make him smile.]
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Muted curses are spilling from his lips and every brush of Dean's skin against his, every new bruise and welt being pressed or bitten into him is bringing him that much closer to the edge. It's overwhelming and hot and he can't breath through the haze of it. His eyes are slitted and his vision is blurry, pupils too dilated from the pleasure and so he can barely see Dean's face when he's moving forward to crush their mouths together again.]
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He's moaning, shaking and shivering as the other man's hands still feel so hot. Touches and fingerprints and bruises feel like burn-scars, feel like they're white-hot and sinking into his skin. It feels like claiming one another and that just makes the trembling sensations hotter. It's embarrassing, but he's not going to last like this. The friction, the hot-sweet burn of need and harsh touches.
Lips soften when their mouths touch, tugging at Cass' lips more than biting, licking and tasting and feeling as hazel-green's flutter closed.]
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D-Dean--
[There's a swipe of tongue against his lips and it pushes him over, the soft wetness and the burn of it across the split have him spilling between them, hands roaming over Dean's back and lower, nails scraping and digging with his release. A whimper escapes his lips and it might be Dean's name again, indecipherable through the waves of ecstasy shuddering through his body. It's fierce, this pleasure swallowing him and it has him clinging to Dean, still dragging him closer, afraid of being swept away by the intensity of it.]
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Oh, fuck, Cass--!
[He's clinging to him, holding on to him, pleasure snaking through him in ways that leave him breathless and light-heated. Holding onto Cass so tight he's sure that his hands leave bruises, and he doesn't mind at all. He's burying his face into the former-angel's neck, murmuring and gasping as he holds onto him tight. He never wants to let him go.]
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His limbs feel heavy and shake where they're wrapped around Dean's body, holding him in place; he's afraid that if he lets go Dean will slip away, back to being distant and cold. And right now he's not ready to surrender this closeness.]
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His body feels heavy, but good, and he nuzzles into Cass' neck. There's a word murmured into his neck. It's muffled by skin, but it sounds a lot like 'mine'. He slips his hands under Cass' back, not minding where they get tangled in his sheets and contents himself with savoring this moment.]
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He doesn't mind in the slightest.]
Of course.
[It's soft, soft like this isn't and whispered into Dean's hair; He doesn't say always, even though it's true. Cas whimpers slightly as he's pulled against Dean's chest, the hunter's arms are circling around him and pushing into bruises he hadn't realized were there but it's still nice, still feels good and he sighs into the touch, his own hands resting at Dean's back as his breathing begins to even out.]
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He can't help smiling a little as Cass whimpers, his arms pressing into bruises. His breath catches as he shifts and ends up brushing some of his own injuries. It's good, though, warm, and the marks are like reminders of this, and he likes that. Likes knowing that his fingerprints are on the body beneath his, too.]
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His limbs are getting cold though and so he pushes his foot around at the sheets, trying to find the one that had slid off the bed when they'd landed on it and drag it up far enough to reach it with his hand. The squirming is aggravating the pain in his chest but he does eventually succeed in reaching a sheet, yanking it up and throwing it over their bodies. It's primarily for warmth, but if he has other motivations like wanting his scent in Dean's bed, he's pointedly ignoring them.]
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