Long As God Can Grow (Dean/Castiel, R)
Title: Long As God Can Grow
Author: Vera
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Me no own.
Word Count: 575
Summary: Dean just has a thing for Castiel's hair.
Author’s Note: Written for kink_las, prompt: Fetishes.
Castiel didn’t really understand it at first. Whenever Sam had turned his back on them, Dean’s hands were up in his hair. Ruffling it, lightly tugging on it and once, he caught him leaning in and sniffing it. He thought it was just Dean’s way of messing with him and he was confused as to why he liked it, but whenever Dean touched his hair, Castiel’s whole essence tingled pleasantly. It was their little thing, just Castiel’s and Dean’s. Sam was not included. It had nothing to do with the grim reality of things. It wasn’t about hunting or destiny or angel business. It was just… something else.
As time passed, he grew more attuned to Dean and was able to read him better. Most importantly, he could sense when Dean was aroused. And every time his fingers were threading through Castiel’s messy strands? It spiked.
He was still taken aback though when one day, when it was just the two of them left and Sam had gone off to the library to do research, Dean was suddenly crowding him against the wall, both hands in his hair. “God, Cas,” he whispered.
“Dean?” Castiel questioned. He was feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. As far as he knew, his host couldn’t catch a fever. What was going on here?
“I know you like it, so don’t even pretend you don’t.” Dean leaned in, nuzzling Castiel’s neck. “I’ve noticed you lean in. It’s subtle, so maybe you don’t even mean to, but I noticed.”
Dean stroked his fingers through Castiel’s hair softly, flicking at the strands falling into his eyes and all Castiel could do was look at him in rapt fascination. Dean was watching him as well? He was paying attention?
“So hot, Cas,” Dean raked his fingers along his scalp now, applying just enough pressure to make him feel it. Hint of pain, a tease of what was yet to come. “You do like it, don’t you? Tell me.”
Castiel couldn’t keep the tremors out of his body any longer and he shuddered. “Yes,” he confessed quietly. “I do.”
Dean smiled at him then and he waited for Castiel to smile back, tentatively, before Dean leaned forward, capturing his lips in their first kiss, his fingers still tangled up in Castiel’s hair.
It just progressed from there. Now, when Dean touched him when Sam wasn’t looking, it wasn’t innocent anymore. Castiel knew he didn’t mean to toy with him. Well, no, he did mean to toy with him, but it was a different kind of game they were playing. And it grew increasingly difficult to keep up a straight face and not just zap them out of wherever they were and into the privacy of a motel room, so Dean could touch him properly. Claw and tug at his hair while Castiel was giving him a blowjob, or hold on to it desperately when Castiel was thrusting into him. If Castiel was honest, the moment he liked best of all was when they lay entangled afterwards, Dean burrowing closer to him, nose ticking the hairs at the nape of his neck, peppering him with small kisses.
“Don’t ever change it, Cas,” Dean would whisper into his ear. “Don’t ever change.”
“I won’t,” Castiel always promised, his own hand at the back of Dean’s head, cradling him close. This was what happiness must be like. Castiel swore to protect it with all his might.
Author: Vera
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Me no own.
Word Count: 575
Summary: Dean just has a thing for Castiel's hair.
Author’s Note: Written for kink_las, prompt: Fetishes.
Castiel didn’t really understand it at first. Whenever Sam had turned his back on them, Dean’s hands were up in his hair. Ruffling it, lightly tugging on it and once, he caught him leaning in and sniffing it. He thought it was just Dean’s way of messing with him and he was confused as to why he liked it, but whenever Dean touched his hair, Castiel’s whole essence tingled pleasantly. It was their little thing, just Castiel’s and Dean’s. Sam was not included. It had nothing to do with the grim reality of things. It wasn’t about hunting or destiny or angel business. It was just… something else.
As time passed, he grew more attuned to Dean and was able to read him better. Most importantly, he could sense when Dean was aroused. And every time his fingers were threading through Castiel’s messy strands? It spiked.
He was still taken aback though when one day, when it was just the two of them left and Sam had gone off to the library to do research, Dean was suddenly crowding him against the wall, both hands in his hair. “God, Cas,” he whispered.
“Dean?” Castiel questioned. He was feeling incredibly hot all of a sudden. As far as he knew, his host couldn’t catch a fever. What was going on here?
“I know you like it, so don’t even pretend you don’t.” Dean leaned in, nuzzling Castiel’s neck. “I’ve noticed you lean in. It’s subtle, so maybe you don’t even mean to, but I noticed.”
Dean stroked his fingers through Castiel’s hair softly, flicking at the strands falling into his eyes and all Castiel could do was look at him in rapt fascination. Dean was watching him as well? He was paying attention?
“So hot, Cas,” Dean raked his fingers along his scalp now, applying just enough pressure to make him feel it. Hint of pain, a tease of what was yet to come. “You do like it, don’t you? Tell me.”
Castiel couldn’t keep the tremors out of his body any longer and he shuddered. “Yes,” he confessed quietly. “I do.”
Dean smiled at him then and he waited for Castiel to smile back, tentatively, before Dean leaned forward, capturing his lips in their first kiss, his fingers still tangled up in Castiel’s hair.
It just progressed from there. Now, when Dean touched him when Sam wasn’t looking, it wasn’t innocent anymore. Castiel knew he didn’t mean to toy with him. Well, no, he did mean to toy with him, but it was a different kind of game they were playing. And it grew increasingly difficult to keep up a straight face and not just zap them out of wherever they were and into the privacy of a motel room, so Dean could touch him properly. Claw and tug at his hair while Castiel was giving him a blowjob, or hold on to it desperately when Castiel was thrusting into him. If Castiel was honest, the moment he liked best of all was when they lay entangled afterwards, Dean burrowing closer to him, nose ticking the hairs at the nape of his neck, peppering him with small kisses.
“Don’t ever change it, Cas,” Dean would whisper into his ear. “Don’t ever change.”
“I won’t,” Castiel always promised, his own hand at the back of Dean’s head, cradling him close. This was what happiness must be like. Castiel swore to protect it with all his might.