For licenseartistic - Dec 2011 (From June 2011)
Title / Prompt: Dec. 2011 (From June 2011) 4 - Love is often gentle, desire always a rage. -Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Handbook
Character: Dean Winchester
Warnings: m/m sex
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Your character's fandom: Supernatural
Word count: 1134 per mywritingnook.com (BTW, 1134 is "hell" upside down on a calculator...)
Rating: R for graphic sex
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or the ghosts.
Crossposted to
licenseartistic
Comments here
It's been weeks -- no, actually it's been months, he realizes -- since he's seen Castiel, and he really misses his angel.
He's been teased, tempted, tormented, leered at by a certain demon in a very suggestive way, and he's been good, damnit. It's really not in his nature to be celibate, and they can joke about it all they want, but he's really starting to think he's going to lose it. Sooner, rather than later. He wants, and Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters just don't live up to the hunger his body aches with.
So, when Castiel returns from a mission, blood-streaked and fierce of face, it's really no surprise that the surge of need and arousal he feels shatters his self-control and destroys what's left of his common sense.
He grabs the angel by his shoulders and shoves him back into a wall, growls and kisses him before Castiel can even greet him.
His angel grunts into the kiss, then wraps strong arms around him and pulls him in. Super-human strength crushes him close, and all Dean can do is moan into the kiss and tighten his own embrace. When Castiel growls and drags him into their bedroom, all he can do is moan and stumble after.
There's some part of his mind that registers that the blood on Castiel is not his own, but there's more of his mind that sees the blood and knows just how dangerous a weapon of the Lord can be. At least some part of him recognizes it, but instead of causing fear all it does is stoke the flames of his desire higher and hotter.
Fingers clutch and nails scratch, and Dean moans into the bruising kiss that comes next. He pulls Castiel close, opening his legs and moaning when the angel presses a thigh between his own; groans and thrusts against the strong leg planted firmly there. His angel worries at his lower lip with his teeth, then nips hard enough to draw blood. Dean cries out, bucking against Castiel's thigh, his cock achingly hard.
It barely registers that he's shoved against the wall again, just that his angel has him pinned. He's so turned on his head is spinning, his heart thundering in his chest. "Cas, fuck me, damnit!" he hisses against the angel's lips, and Castiel growls again; leans in to bite his neck. Beard stubble scrapes his skin, but he presses into the sweet torment, moaning low in his throat.
Castiel growls again in response, a feral, dangerous sound, and that's it. He reaches up to grab his angel's lapels, tugs the trench coat down as far as he can, until he realizes Castiel is growling louder and giving him a heated look as he tries to free his arms. "Oops..."
"On the bed, Dean," Castiel growls, and Dean obeys that commanding tone without question. By the time he reaches the bed he realizes his angel has magicked off his own rumpled suit and trench coat while he's still fully clothed. "Cas?"
He turns back to see what's going on, finds his angel right behind him. "Oh..." he gasps, eyes wide. Castiel grasps his t-shirt collar, smiles and tears his shirt open. "Oh fuck... Fuck yeah," Dean pants. With a sweep of his angel's hand, the rest of his clothing is gone.
Castiel places a palm in the center of his chest and shoves gently, and Dean finds himself sprawled on the bed, naked and breathless. And then his angel is upon him.
They tangle in a frenzy of teeth and nails, Dean's hunger mirrored in Castiel's burning eyes. They bite more than they kiss, scratch and grasp more than stroke and caress, but everything is pleasure. And every time Castiel draws blood, Dean cries out in pleasure and only wants more.
Finally, his angel is growling and panting with his own hunger, driven half-mad by Dean's insistent touches at the base of his wings.
When his angel's cock spears him, thrust balls-deep in one brutal stroke, Dean arches up into him and nearly comes right then and there. Somehow he manages to ride through the waves of sensation; then Castiel is fucking him and it's all he can do to hang on.
Once again, his hands find their way to the sensitive skin at the base of Castiel's wings, and as he caresses and strokes, he can feel the angel's cock twitch inside him. Castiel growls, face buried against his neck and the sound sending shivers of lust through him. He won't last long like this, his body too eager and denied too long. And when tiny motes of light begin to spark off his angel with every thrust and every growl, he can't hold back any longer.
He comes hard, crying out and arching into his angel, body clenching and nails digging into sensitive skin. His angel follows a moment later, one last thrust and a roar of sound that's more than any human throat can produce.
When Dean comes back to himself, his ears are ringing and his eyes sting, but his body hums with the most delicious ache. He decides moving is vastly overrated, and he's just going to lie there and bask in the heavy-limbed afterglow. Maybe he'll move again. Tomorrow.
"Fuck, Cas, that was amazing," he finally murmurs. He opens his eyes to see his angel watching him, the feral expression gone, replaced by one of surprise. "What?" he asks, thinking he might sit up and kiss Castiel, until his body refuses to obey. Well, okay, be that way.
"You made me lose control of myself -- I showed you more of my true form than I have since our first meeting outside of Hell... I could have hurt you -- and yet I did not."
"No, you didn't. It was fucking fantastic, Cas," Dean answers, finally able to roll over enough to face Castiel and throw one leg over his. He reaches out to touch Castiel's cheek, as some small part of his mind realizes there's more blood on his angel now, and this time it's his. His body starts to perk up at that, and he pulls Castiel down into a kiss. When Castiel finally relaxes into it, he smiles, this time caressing his lover's hair and steering clear of his wings for now. "I really, really missed you," he murmurs against his angel's lips. "You better not have anywhere to go for the next few days, or I'm gonna have words with your bosses."
He can feel Castiel smile, and his angel answers, "I believe they can do without me for a day or two."
"Good," Dean answers, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slides a hand down Castiel's back, heading for the base of his wings once more.
***end***
This entry was originally posted at http://rocksaltshotgun.dreamwidth.org/31979.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Character: Dean Winchester
Warnings: m/m sex
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Your character's fandom: Supernatural
Word count: 1134 per mywritingnook.com (BTW, 1134 is "hell" upside down on a calculator...)
Rating: R for graphic sex
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Or the ghosts.
Crossposted to
licenseartistic
Comments here
It's been weeks -- no, actually it's been months, he realizes -- since he's seen Castiel, and he really misses his angel.
He's been teased, tempted, tormented, leered at by a certain demon in a very suggestive way, and he's been good, damnit. It's really not in his nature to be celibate, and they can joke about it all they want, but he's really starting to think he's going to lose it. Sooner, rather than later. He wants, and Mrs. Palmer and her five daughters just don't live up to the hunger his body aches with.
So, when Castiel returns from a mission, blood-streaked and fierce of face, it's really no surprise that the surge of need and arousal he feels shatters his self-control and destroys what's left of his common sense.
He grabs the angel by his shoulders and shoves him back into a wall, growls and kisses him before Castiel can even greet him.
His angel grunts into the kiss, then wraps strong arms around him and pulls him in. Super-human strength crushes him close, and all Dean can do is moan into the kiss and tighten his own embrace. When Castiel growls and drags him into their bedroom, all he can do is moan and stumble after.
There's some part of his mind that registers that the blood on Castiel is not his own, but there's more of his mind that sees the blood and knows just how dangerous a weapon of the Lord can be. At least some part of him recognizes it, but instead of causing fear all it does is stoke the flames of his desire higher and hotter.
Fingers clutch and nails scratch, and Dean moans into the bruising kiss that comes next. He pulls Castiel close, opening his legs and moaning when the angel presses a thigh between his own; groans and thrusts against the strong leg planted firmly there. His angel worries at his lower lip with his teeth, then nips hard enough to draw blood. Dean cries out, bucking against Castiel's thigh, his cock achingly hard.
It barely registers that he's shoved against the wall again, just that his angel has him pinned. He's so turned on his head is spinning, his heart thundering in his chest. "Cas, fuck me, damnit!" he hisses against the angel's lips, and Castiel growls again; leans in to bite his neck. Beard stubble scrapes his skin, but he presses into the sweet torment, moaning low in his throat.
Castiel growls again in response, a feral, dangerous sound, and that's it. He reaches up to grab his angel's lapels, tugs the trench coat down as far as he can, until he realizes Castiel is growling louder and giving him a heated look as he tries to free his arms. "Oops..."
"On the bed, Dean," Castiel growls, and Dean obeys that commanding tone without question. By the time he reaches the bed he realizes his angel has magicked off his own rumpled suit and trench coat while he's still fully clothed. "Cas?"
He turns back to see what's going on, finds his angel right behind him. "Oh..." he gasps, eyes wide. Castiel grasps his t-shirt collar, smiles and tears his shirt open. "Oh fuck... Fuck yeah," Dean pants. With a sweep of his angel's hand, the rest of his clothing is gone.
Castiel places a palm in the center of his chest and shoves gently, and Dean finds himself sprawled on the bed, naked and breathless. And then his angel is upon him.
They tangle in a frenzy of teeth and nails, Dean's hunger mirrored in Castiel's burning eyes. They bite more than they kiss, scratch and grasp more than stroke and caress, but everything is pleasure. And every time Castiel draws blood, Dean cries out in pleasure and only wants more.
Finally, his angel is growling and panting with his own hunger, driven half-mad by Dean's insistent touches at the base of his wings.
When his angel's cock spears him, thrust balls-deep in one brutal stroke, Dean arches up into him and nearly comes right then and there. Somehow he manages to ride through the waves of sensation; then Castiel is fucking him and it's all he can do to hang on.
Once again, his hands find their way to the sensitive skin at the base of Castiel's wings, and as he caresses and strokes, he can feel the angel's cock twitch inside him. Castiel growls, face buried against his neck and the sound sending shivers of lust through him. He won't last long like this, his body too eager and denied too long. And when tiny motes of light begin to spark off his angel with every thrust and every growl, he can't hold back any longer.
He comes hard, crying out and arching into his angel, body clenching and nails digging into sensitive skin. His angel follows a moment later, one last thrust and a roar of sound that's more than any human throat can produce.
When Dean comes back to himself, his ears are ringing and his eyes sting, but his body hums with the most delicious ache. He decides moving is vastly overrated, and he's just going to lie there and bask in the heavy-limbed afterglow. Maybe he'll move again. Tomorrow.
"Fuck, Cas, that was amazing," he finally murmurs. He opens his eyes to see his angel watching him, the feral expression gone, replaced by one of surprise. "What?" he asks, thinking he might sit up and kiss Castiel, until his body refuses to obey. Well, okay, be that way.
"You made me lose control of myself -- I showed you more of my true form than I have since our first meeting outside of Hell... I could have hurt you -- and yet I did not."
"No, you didn't. It was fucking fantastic, Cas," Dean answers, finally able to roll over enough to face Castiel and throw one leg over his. He reaches out to touch Castiel's cheek, as some small part of his mind realizes there's more blood on his angel now, and this time it's his. His body starts to perk up at that, and he pulls Castiel down into a kiss. When Castiel finally relaxes into it, he smiles, this time caressing his lover's hair and steering clear of his wings for now. "I really, really missed you," he murmurs against his angel's lips. "You better not have anywhere to go for the next few days, or I'm gonna have words with your bosses."
He can feel Castiel smile, and his angel answers, "I believe they can do without me for a day or two."
"Good," Dean answers, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he slides a hand down Castiel's back, heading for the base of his wings once more.
***end***
This entry was originally posted at http://rocksaltshotgun.dreamwidth.org/31979.html. Please comment there using OpenID.