[Fic] Sin with a Grin - Chapter 7/8
Title: Sin with a Grin
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all associated characters belong to Kripke and Co. I make absolutely no claims on any of them.
Rating: R/NC-17 for m/m sex (This part)
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. The holiday caused a schedule change. Please enjoy!
Special Thanks to dapperscript for the wonderful beta! Thank you!
Please see Master Post for Notes, Cover Art and Further Information
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean slid out of the warm pile that was their sheets and Castiel’s strong arms, and padded over to the window, cotton pyjama pants swishing softly as he moved. Dean shivered slightly as the cooler air of the room hit his bare chest. He pushed aside the gauzy curtain of the big French window and stared out into the night. The street was quiet. The red brick faces of the apartments across the way and the stretch of green lawn were dark and sleepy. Everything was wrought iron, classic architecture, and peace. The window was cool to the touch of Dean’s palm, the glass fogging around the outline. He stared at it for a moment, then pulled away and checked on Castiel before exiting the room. He was a little startled to see the soft golden glow of the kitchen lamp cascading into the wide-open space of their living room, painting the hardwood of the floor honey-gold.
Dean padded into the kitchen, scratching his hair. “Mom, couldn’t you sleep? Is the guest room not comfortable? I told Castiel we should have gotten a new matt-”
“It’s fine, Baby,” Mary cut in, with a gentle smile for her son.
“Mom, I’m thirty-two,” Dean rolled his eyes at the nickname and went over to the kettle. He put an experimental hand against the white-painted metal to see if it was still hot.
“Yes, well, you and Sam will always be my babies. You’ll understand if you have kids one day,” Mary said.
“Yeah, but I don’t know who’s gonna carry that one to term, because frankly I don’t have the hips for it and Castiel would bitch and moan so much I’d kill him,” Dean joked. He reached into the cupboard and pulled down his mug with Teachers Rule scrawled across it.
Mary shook her head at her son before offering, “It’s not the bed that’s keeping me up. Your father’s sleeping like a grizzly in winter.”
“Mom, that says nothing for the bed’s comfort… Dad can sleep like the dead in that lumpy, old, ugly brown recliner that you two bought from the thrift store when you got married,” Dean said, riffling around in the cupboard that housed his and Castiel’s auspicious collection of tea before he finally found one that satisfied.
“Well regardless,” Mary said insistently, “the bed’s fine.”
“Then what is it?” Dean dropped the tea bag in his mug, then poured the hot water over it, watching the trickle of light grey steam dance and move in tiny air-currents before leaving it to steep.
“Still wrapping my head around this whole crazy scheme you, your brother, and your boyfriend have cooked up.”
Dean sighed, dumping the tea bag in the sink and walking on silent feet over to his mother. He sat next to her at the table. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Mary asked, genuinely startled at the apology.
“For making you worry all over again. I know you just got used to Sam being caught up with the boys in black, and now I had to go and throw this at you too… But Mom… they need me. Something very important and very bad could happen to some very innocent people and I just… I can’t let it happen, you know?”
“It involves a child, doesn’t it?” Mary guessed, resigned.
Dean grinned, abashed. “Gee, how transparent am I? But you know I can’t really talk about it, Mom…”
“I know, I know. I won’t press for details, but like I said, I know you Dean, and kids have always been your greatest weakness… Or strength I suppose, depending how you look at it. Maybe when Jess and Sammy’s baby is born, this ridiculous martyr streak all you boys have will be finally stomped down for good.”
“You know about the baby?” Dean asked.
“I guessed. I’m a little surprised you know though…” Mary said.
Dean grinned, “Cas guessed.”
“Yes, that man has always been uncannily observant,” Mary smiled. “I’m so glad you found him. He’s a wonderful man and I’ve never seen you so happy.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t freak and disown me when you found out,” Dean laughed. “I expected Dad to at least.”
“Well, Dad had his chance to get used to these things. Uncle Dan’s roommate isn’t just a friend, you know,” Mary smiled.
Dean chuckled, “Yeah, kind of figured that out when I walked in on Uncle Dan ‘helping’ Tom in the shower when I was fourteen. Awkward.”
“Love is blind,” Mary shrugged. “You’ve always been drawn to beautiful things, Dean, ever since you were little, and that Castiel of yours is certainly a beautiful thing.”
“Mom!” Dean laughed. “Jesus. I swear… The thing that tripped Dad up the most was how I dated all those women as well as guys. I think that was harder for him than me just liking guys.”
“Your father is an intelligent man, but he’s a little dim sometimes. He figures its side A or side B; there’s no in between.”
“I love how he still sees so much black in white in the world after all those shades of grey, you know? He’s funny sometimes, you’d think with his service record…” Dean just shook his head. “Well, regardless, if he can’t figure out how I’m just a little crooked, I’m glad we didn’t have a big blow up. I mean when Cas told Luce…” Dean shuddered.
He hadn’t been the one there for Cas when he went down that path, but he heard the stories. Michael still had a hard time talking about it, and Jimmy had to leave the room when the eldest brother brought it up the one and only time they spoke of it. If it hadn’t been for the boys’ Uncle Joshua, then Dean wasn’t sure if he would ever have found Cas.
Joshua managed to talk the boys around and prevent the already cracked family from shattering entirely. He helped Castiel crawl out of the dark that he had fallen into after the big show down, just before he returned to the military (once he got out of the hospital, that was). Dean could never figure out how such an amazing man as Joshua had two dickwad sons like Uriel and Raphael. The bastards still refused to speak to Cas after all these years, and Castiel and Uriel had been extremely close growing up. There were only a few months between them in age.
“Well, Cas has you now,” Mary assured, “and us.”
Dean smiled, “I’m glad you guys like him as much as I do. After all the shit he’s gone through, I know it means a lot for him to be part of this family.”
“Are you going to be making him a permanent part any time soon? Your father, brother and I have a bet going and I’m really hoping I’m going to win. If I do, I don’t have to do dishes for a year,” Mary whispered conspiratorially.
Dean choked on his tea. “You guys are betting on me? Jeeze Mom! What’s with everyone and the marriage track lately? I mean, I know it’s legal and everything now, but I don’t think Cas is into that whole thing. His family doesn’t exactly have the best track record with it. Only Jimmy and Balthazar are still married; the rest all got divorced, and frankly if it weren’t for Claire and the Church, I’m pretty sure Jimmy and Amelia wouldn’t be together.”
Mary quirked a brow and gave her son a sidelong look. “Have you two even talked about it? Ever?”
“Not in so many words…” Dean trailed off.
“Silly boys.” She drained the last of her tea and pushed away from the table. “I think I’m going to try and sleep now. I’ll see you in the morning, Sweetheart.” She padded over and placed her mug into the dishwasher before heading to bed.
“Night, Mom.” Dean gave her a kiss on the cheek as she passed, and Mary patted his affectionately.
Dean stared down at the table, thinking back to a glint of light-coloured metal that had caught his eye not three days ago when he was out grabbing lunch, and thinking about how great it would look on Castiel’s finger.
xx
Castiel awoke feeling cold, with an icy chill nipping at his gut. He had been dreaming. It hadn’t been a nice dream, but it was too chaotic to remember upon waking. He shuddered, feeling that niggling at the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important and felt a wash of guilt flood his veins. He just wished he hadn’t been such an idiot Friday night; maybe then he could figure out what the hell was going on with him. Castiel fumbled for his phone, spying the time on the clock. It was the wee hours of the morning, but Balthazar would probably be awake. Castiel hovered his finger over his third speed dial key, but set his Blackberry aside. Balthazar would only worry if he heard from Castiel at 3 o’clock in the morning, and the older brother thought better of calling. Maybe Michael then? He’d be up, wouldn’t he? It was only midnight there… But Elise and Edmund would probably be sleeping, and Castiel didn’t relish the thought of potentially waking his young niece and nephew with a ringing phone.
Jimmy was out of the question, his twin rose with the birds regardless of the day of the week and Amelia would be angry at him for months if he woke them in the middle of the night. And where the hell was Dean? Castiel slumped back on the bed, arms flung to the sides as he huffed. Dean was probably doing one of his early morning wanderings and would be back soon enough. Castiel nestled down further in the rapidly cooling sheets, wanting the warmth of Dean next to him to chase away whatever it was that was picking at Castiel’s subconscious.
“Cas?” As if on cue, Dean’s voice broke the silence, there was a hint of worry in his tone. “What’s up, Babe?”
Huh, the endearment was slipping out a lot more often as of late, Castiel noted. “Nothing,” Cas responded, he eyes dancing over Dean’s bare chest, silvered in the gauzy moonlight. How was the younger man not cold? It was freezing in this damn apartment.
“Okay,” Dean replied, not at all convinced.
“It’s cold, Dean,” Castiel said, changing the subject.
Dean chuckled, “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Castiel watched Dean disappear back down the short corridor to their small washroom. The taller man reappeared moments later and climbed into bed. Castiel hissed as Dean’s icy toes hit his legs.
“Sorry,” Dean said again.
Castiel turned towards the younger man and shifted him onto his side. Castiel curled around Dean’s back and nestled his nose in the soft, fine hairs at his nape, sliding as close as possible while avoiding the chilly toes. Dean shifted backwards, so he was pressed more firmly against Castiel’s chest, curve of his ass wriggling against the soft swell of Castiel’s groin. Castiel groaned faintly.
“Sorry,” Dean said a third time, not at all repentant now. Castiel could practically hear the filthy grin curling his lips.
Castiel trailed lazy kisses behind Dean’s ear and along his neck, humming into the sweet skin as Dean’s wriggling became more purposeful with each brush of lips. “What came over you earlier tonight?”
Dean shrugged. “Dunno, just felt it was something I had to do. You were acting a little weird Friday night when I brought you home.”
Any thread of arousal that had been slowly burgeoning disappeared with that casually muttered musing. Castiel froze. “Weird how?”
“Just off… You kept on trying to tell me something, but I haven’t a clue what it was. You were a little passed the slurry stage… And you’ve stopped kissing me why?” Dean turned to look over his shoulder, shooting Cas a gently aggrieved glare.
Castiel pressed a distracted kiss to Dean’s neck, thoughts cascading around and trying to latch onto the elusive strands of his Friday memories. His stomach felt heavy and cold again, and he squeezed his arms around Dean’s firm chest, even if he was mentally distanced. Dean wiggled around in the circle of Castiel’s arms until he was facing the older man, eyes flicking around Castiel’s closed expression, a frown falling on his full lips.
“Dude, what’s up?” Dean asked, nudging Castiel in the chest.
“I… don’t know,” Castiel replied. “Sorry, I’m just…”
Dean’s smile was a little watery. “Hey, it’s late. Why don’t we try and do that sleep thing everyone’s always talking about? I hear it’s a beautiful thing.”
Castiel shook himself free from whatever held him, after seeing Dean’s disappointed smile. “Sleep is overrated.”
Dean snorted at that one. “Please, if you could get paid to sleep, you would do it all day.”
“Yes, well, there’re also other things I’d do all day if I could get paid for it. Now quiet, I believe I was supposed to be kissing you,” Castiel murmured.
“I’m not sure if I should be offended at that one,” Dean quirked a brow.
“No, be flattered, because you’re the only one who could keep me entertained all day. Now hush.” Castiel followed up his words with a deep, pressing kiss, slotting his mouth against Dean’s with the comfort and familiarity of two people who had been together for as long as they had. Dean’s lips parted without a thought as their tongues came out to spar languidly in the dark of the morning. The younger man sidled closer to Castiel, pressing the full length of his body against the hard, slender planes of the blue-eyed man. Castiel twitched involuntarily as Dean’s still-chilly toes came in contact with his legs, and Dean chuckled against Castiel’s lips showing no remorse.
“Brat,” Castiel whispered against Dean’s mouth.
“You love it,” Dean whispered back.
Castiel growled a little at that one and pushed up against Dean’s body, easily flipping the younger man to the flat of his back and looming over him in the darkness. The bed squeaked a little and Dean and Cas both shot a quick glance at the slightly ajar door of their bedroom, suddenly mindful that they weren’t alone in the house.
“Damnit,” Dean muttered.
“You’ll just have to be quiet, Dean Winchester, because you’ve been a damned little cock tease all night, and I’ve had about enough of it.”
Dean stuck his tongue out at Cas, before scrambling away and out of bed. Castiel chased him with his arms but only succeeded in brushing smooth skin with his fingertips. Dean shut their bedroom door quietly, pressing the lock in on the doorknob, before hurrying back over and crawling under the covers. Castiel hissed once again at the bloody cold toes.
“You need slippers,” Castiel murmured, rolling Dean under him again.
“No fucking way,” Dean replied, pressing his chest up against the other man’s and wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. “Slippers are lame, Dude, and you’re talking too much.” Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s again.
“And you’re bossy,” Castiel answered between kisses.
Dean grinned against Castiel’s lips, murmuring, “That’s what makes me so much fun.”
Castiel growled again and resumed attacking Dean’s mouth, feeling those firm, slightly callused hands trailing down the cotton of his T-shirt, and Castiel was suddenly not cold at all. He pulled back just enough to pull the shirt over his head, ignoring Dean’s little whimper at the brief distance, in favour of being able to press bare skin to bare skin, firm muscle to firm muscle. Dean arched up into him, pressing their hips firmly together and began a slow teasing grind, the thin layers of cotton that separated them acting as a very poor - but also as a very impenetrable - barrier between them.
Castiel’s fingers teased down the increasing heat of Dean’s chest, rubbing and kneading at the base of his ribs, then lower, over the top of the green-eyed man’s hips, running his nails along the curve of the bone he found there, causing Dean to start and arch into him more firmly. Dean’s hands had migrated down Castiel’s back and were slowly squeezing and rubbing at his ass, trailing low over the swell at the bottom and teasing infuriatingly at the ticklish part just behind Castiel’s knee. The gesture shot little sparks of arousal straight down Castiel’s side, making him all the harder.
Dean was also doing interesting things to Castiel’s neck, lapping and nibbling at his throat before flattening his tongue and running it in a straight line from clavicle to earlobe. Castiel hissed out a breath and grinded down on Dean’s hips, seeking more friction as those straight, white teeth bit and sucked at the soft skin of Castiel’s ear.
Dean chuckled at how easy Castiel was, a soft gust of breath ghosting over Castiel’s ear, causing the older man to lean down and bite at Dean’s neck in retaliation, expertly raising a small, red mark that would be a bruise by morning. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he moaned and arched into Castiel, attack on the blue-eyed man’s ear temporarily abandoned, leaving Castiel open to unleash an onslaught of his own.
Castiel leaned in again and dragged his teeth gently along the curve of Dean’s shoulder, then over to the jut of hard bone at the base of his neck. Dean’s blunt nails dug into the skin of Castiel’s legs at that, surely leaving behind tiny crescents in their wake. Castiel scratched his nails gently, feather light, down Dean’s side. Dean moaned low and throaty and Castiel clamped his other hand around those wanton lips, before any louder noise could escape. Dean fluttered his eyes closed and nodded before opening them in a glare at the slightly older man. Castiel smiled and leaned down again, snatching a kiss from pouty, flushed and swollen lips, after slowly removing his hand.
“I thought you were going to be quiet,” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear, feeling the shivers dance down Dean’s skin at the ghosting breath.
“You’re the one who keeps fucking talking,” Dean panted up at him. He bit none-too-gently at Castiel’s shoulder, causing the blue-eyed man to release a hiss at the sharp pain, followed by a breathy little laugh that he knew drove Dean crazy.
“You’re a monster,” Castiel said around his chuckle.
It was Dean’s turn to growl as he reached up and flipped them in one quick, easy move, the springs of the bed squeaking ever so slightly as Castiel’s displaced weight landed bodily on the mattress below. Dean trailed soft, warm fingers down Castiel’s arms as he devoured his lips, desperate for the wet darkness, and the taste of Castiel’s mouth. Castiel’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, arching his neck as Dean grabbed his arms and pinned them above his head, dropping kisses down Castiel’s jaw, neck, and collar bone, skilled tongue dipping lower and lower to suck and nip at erect nipples, which had Castiel gasping again and seeking more.
Dean let his fingers trail away from their grasp on Castiel’s wrists, gentle touches brushing feather light down the sensitive underside of Castiel’s arms, before trailing lower, across the corduroy jut of ribs and the firm muscle of Castiel’s abdomen. Dean snagged on Castiel’s embarrassingly dampening cotton pants and dragged them off and down his hips in one swift move. With little more preamble than a nip and a lick to Castiel’s inner thighs, Dean took Castiel’s solid erection into the suffocating heat of his talented mouth. Castiel arched up before he could stop himself, but Dean was ready and had pulled off just enough, holding steady hands on Castiel’s hips to prevent the motion again.
“Fuck…Jesus…Dean,” Castiel panted, quiet and barely audible. He felt Dean’s lips curl into a grin, the unsettling pressure of sharp teeth just grazing the sensitive skin of Castiel cock at the motion, but no more than that. Then Dean began to move and Castiel lost whatever coherent thoughts he may have possessed, as they all narrowed down to the sensation of a wickedly talented tongue that knew how to undo him in minutes.
Castiel felt like Dean was trying to strip him bare with that slick sinuous muscle alone. The slightly younger man licked and sucked at all the right moments, and in all the right places. He traced along the thick, throbbing vein along the underside of Castiel’s dick, before dipping briefly into the tiny weeping slit at the tip, then doing it all over again. Dean all but crashed his mouth down and Castiel felt the teasing pressure of the back of a throat on the head. Every instinct told him thrust, more, need but firm, work-calloused hands kept Castiel’s hips pinned with delightfully bruising pressure, and all he could do was grip the headboard and enjoy the ride. Then the world suddenly narrowed back into sharp, abrupt focus when Dean pulled away with a wicked grin.
“Fuck, Dean, what the hell?” Castiel panted.
“Fuck Dean, exactly,” Dean retorted.
If that wasn’t the best idea Castiel ever heard, then he didn’t know what could be a better one. The blue-eyed man reached up and gripped Dean’s arms, reversing their positions in an instant, the bed creaking and whining once again. Both men paused and waited before snickering like teenagers, and then Castiel was fumbling around in their bedside table for the key ingredient for what came next, while Dean was cursing the string on his pants that had been pulled the wrong way and was now stuck. He managed to navigate it free and pushed his pants down his legs in a hurried, fumbling motion.
With skin bared and on display, ready and waiting, Castiel could only lean up and press a deep, probing kiss to Dean’s lips, a little slower and a little more languid than previously, and Dean was whimpering up into his mouth, moaning softly as he pulled Castiel closer to his body with arms and legs.
“Cas, please,” Dean whispered.
Castiel nodded, gave another brief kiss, before he had the tube of lubricant in his hands once again and was coating his fingers in the cool gel, taking pity on the wrecked man below him and warming it the best he could, before probing at the wanting hole.
Dean tensed involuntarily at the initial pressure, like he always did, regardless of how many times they did this, before he released the breath he’d been holding through his nose, and Castiel felt the tight ring of muscle relax around his questing digit. Dean’s eyes squeezed shut, obscuring Castiel’s view of dark pupils blown wide, almost completely hiding the ring of mossy green.
Castiel waited again, then whispered, “Dean.”
“Yeah, go for it,” Dean breathed, flickering his eyes open once again and locking Castiel’s gaze. After the initial sharp probe and burn, Dean’s body became relaxed more and more. Each finger began to slide in easily until Castiel was nudging Dean’s prostate with every gentle stroke, and Dean was whimpering and squirming below.
“Fuck Cas, enough, enough,” Dean panted.
Castiel nodded, grabbing more lube and smearing it around his waiting cock, subconsciously fluttering his eyes closed even at his own touch, before lining himself up and pressing. Another clench and Castiel breathed slowly, waiting for the sign that Dean was ready, waiting for the minute the younger man finally relinquished the control he was so desperate to maintain even after three years.
It happened all at once, as it usually did, Dean’s entire body seemed to let go with a sigh, before green bore deep and desperate into blue and Castiel slid inside the tight, moist heat with ease.
Unbidden, a low moan fell from Castiel’s panting mouth. Castiel, could usually be quiet to the point of deafening when it came to sex, and Dean, hearing the sound he loved, thrust back and took him all in at once. A quivery little cry slipped free of cupid’s bow lips that Castiel caught in a deep kiss, before the sound could travel too far. As he thrust and pulled and Dean pushed back, both of them fell easily into the familiar rhythm that came from knowing someone as intimately as they knew each other.
Dean knew after Castiel released all those dirty little noises and the long stream of curses that Castiel was lost, and their tempo increased, straining against one another. Bodies slick with sweat from the exertion, Dean could only hold on to Castiel’s shoulders as the agent reached down from where he was braced on his elbows and grabbed Dean’s weeping cock tight in his sure fist, pulling and stroking until Dean had to bite his lip until it bled to keep the cry so desperate to escape trapped inside. Then, warm and wet, Castiel released. A few more easy tugs and Dean was falling over the edge as well, head thrown back in blissful abandon.
Castiel panted above him, then fell bodily on top of the slightly larger man, crushing him under comfortable weight, and Dean clung to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Castiel’s body and burying his nose in Castiel’s neck, the only sound in their dark room the harshness of their panted breaths.
Castiel felt a warm trickle on his shoulder and pulled back slightly, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?” It was warm and affectionate. Castiel gently brushed the small trickle of blood away, then leaned up and kissed Dean.
Dean smiled, chagrined.
“Apparently I missed some… Strange how your blood and semen taste almost identical,” Castiel mused with a quirky little smile, his eyes flashing in jest.
Dean snorted out a laugh and pushed at the older man. “Get off of me, Weirdo.”
“No, I rather like it here,” Castiel responded and laid back down, resting his cheek on Dean’s shoulder. He shifted just enough to allow his softening erection to slip free of Dean’s cradling heat. Dean grimaced a little at the warm trickle that followed the movement, but just shook his head and squeezed the other man in a hug.
Dean waited a beat, feeling Castiel’s slowly-evening breaths against his chest, their sweat drying in the cool room, and the almost annoying tickle of Castiel’s sex-mussed hair against his cheek, before saying, casually, “Your turn to wash the sheets, you know.”
“Well fuck,” Castiel said lightly.
Dean chuckled.
End Chapter
Previous | Master Post | Next
Author: Stolen Childe
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all associated characters belong to Kripke and Co. I make absolutely no claims on any of them.
Rating: R/NC-17 for m/m sex (This part)
Author's Notes: Sorry for the delay in this chapter. The holiday caused a schedule change. Please enjoy!
Special Thanks to dapperscript for the wonderful beta! Thank you!
Please see Master Post for Notes, Cover Art and Further Information
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dean slid out of the warm pile that was their sheets and Castiel’s strong arms, and padded over to the window, cotton pyjama pants swishing softly as he moved. Dean shivered slightly as the cooler air of the room hit his bare chest. He pushed aside the gauzy curtain of the big French window and stared out into the night. The street was quiet. The red brick faces of the apartments across the way and the stretch of green lawn were dark and sleepy. Everything was wrought iron, classic architecture, and peace. The window was cool to the touch of Dean’s palm, the glass fogging around the outline. He stared at it for a moment, then pulled away and checked on Castiel before exiting the room. He was a little startled to see the soft golden glow of the kitchen lamp cascading into the wide-open space of their living room, painting the hardwood of the floor honey-gold.
Dean padded into the kitchen, scratching his hair. “Mom, couldn’t you sleep? Is the guest room not comfortable? I told Castiel we should have gotten a new matt-”
“It’s fine, Baby,” Mary cut in, with a gentle smile for her son.
“Mom, I’m thirty-two,” Dean rolled his eyes at the nickname and went over to the kettle. He put an experimental hand against the white-painted metal to see if it was still hot.
“Yes, well, you and Sam will always be my babies. You’ll understand if you have kids one day,” Mary said.
“Yeah, but I don’t know who’s gonna carry that one to term, because frankly I don’t have the hips for it and Castiel would bitch and moan so much I’d kill him,” Dean joked. He reached into the cupboard and pulled down his mug with Teachers Rule scrawled across it.
Mary shook her head at her son before offering, “It’s not the bed that’s keeping me up. Your father’s sleeping like a grizzly in winter.”
“Mom, that says nothing for the bed’s comfort… Dad can sleep like the dead in that lumpy, old, ugly brown recliner that you two bought from the thrift store when you got married,” Dean said, riffling around in the cupboard that housed his and Castiel’s auspicious collection of tea before he finally found one that satisfied.
“Well regardless,” Mary said insistently, “the bed’s fine.”
“Then what is it?” Dean dropped the tea bag in his mug, then poured the hot water over it, watching the trickle of light grey steam dance and move in tiny air-currents before leaving it to steep.
“Still wrapping my head around this whole crazy scheme you, your brother, and your boyfriend have cooked up.”
Dean sighed, dumping the tea bag in the sink and walking on silent feet over to his mother. He sat next to her at the table. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Mary asked, genuinely startled at the apology.
“For making you worry all over again. I know you just got used to Sam being caught up with the boys in black, and now I had to go and throw this at you too… But Mom… they need me. Something very important and very bad could happen to some very innocent people and I just… I can’t let it happen, you know?”
“It involves a child, doesn’t it?” Mary guessed, resigned.
Dean grinned, abashed. “Gee, how transparent am I? But you know I can’t really talk about it, Mom…”
“I know, I know. I won’t press for details, but like I said, I know you Dean, and kids have always been your greatest weakness… Or strength I suppose, depending how you look at it. Maybe when Jess and Sammy’s baby is born, this ridiculous martyr streak all you boys have will be finally stomped down for good.”
“You know about the baby?” Dean asked.
“I guessed. I’m a little surprised you know though…” Mary said.
Dean grinned, “Cas guessed.”
“Yes, that man has always been uncannily observant,” Mary smiled. “I’m so glad you found him. He’s a wonderful man and I’ve never seen you so happy.”
“I’m so glad you didn’t freak and disown me when you found out,” Dean laughed. “I expected Dad to at least.”
“Well, Dad had his chance to get used to these things. Uncle Dan’s roommate isn’t just a friend, you know,” Mary smiled.
Dean chuckled, “Yeah, kind of figured that out when I walked in on Uncle Dan ‘helping’ Tom in the shower when I was fourteen. Awkward.”
“Love is blind,” Mary shrugged. “You’ve always been drawn to beautiful things, Dean, ever since you were little, and that Castiel of yours is certainly a beautiful thing.”
“Mom!” Dean laughed. “Jesus. I swear… The thing that tripped Dad up the most was how I dated all those women as well as guys. I think that was harder for him than me just liking guys.”
“Your father is an intelligent man, but he’s a little dim sometimes. He figures its side A or side B; there’s no in between.”
“I love how he still sees so much black in white in the world after all those shades of grey, you know? He’s funny sometimes, you’d think with his service record…” Dean just shook his head. “Well, regardless, if he can’t figure out how I’m just a little crooked, I’m glad we didn’t have a big blow up. I mean when Cas told Luce…” Dean shuddered.
He hadn’t been the one there for Cas when he went down that path, but he heard the stories. Michael still had a hard time talking about it, and Jimmy had to leave the room when the eldest brother brought it up the one and only time they spoke of it. If it hadn’t been for the boys’ Uncle Joshua, then Dean wasn’t sure if he would ever have found Cas.
Joshua managed to talk the boys around and prevent the already cracked family from shattering entirely. He helped Castiel crawl out of the dark that he had fallen into after the big show down, just before he returned to the military (once he got out of the hospital, that was). Dean could never figure out how such an amazing man as Joshua had two dickwad sons like Uriel and Raphael. The bastards still refused to speak to Cas after all these years, and Castiel and Uriel had been extremely close growing up. There were only a few months between them in age.
“Well, Cas has you now,” Mary assured, “and us.”
Dean smiled, “I’m glad you guys like him as much as I do. After all the shit he’s gone through, I know it means a lot for him to be part of this family.”
“Are you going to be making him a permanent part any time soon? Your father, brother and I have a bet going and I’m really hoping I’m going to win. If I do, I don’t have to do dishes for a year,” Mary whispered conspiratorially.
Dean choked on his tea. “You guys are betting on me? Jeeze Mom! What’s with everyone and the marriage track lately? I mean, I know it’s legal and everything now, but I don’t think Cas is into that whole thing. His family doesn’t exactly have the best track record with it. Only Jimmy and Balthazar are still married; the rest all got divorced, and frankly if it weren’t for Claire and the Church, I’m pretty sure Jimmy and Amelia wouldn’t be together.”
Mary quirked a brow and gave her son a sidelong look. “Have you two even talked about it? Ever?”
“Not in so many words…” Dean trailed off.
“Silly boys.” She drained the last of her tea and pushed away from the table. “I think I’m going to try and sleep now. I’ll see you in the morning, Sweetheart.” She padded over and placed her mug into the dishwasher before heading to bed.
“Night, Mom.” Dean gave her a kiss on the cheek as she passed, and Mary patted his affectionately.
Dean stared down at the table, thinking back to a glint of light-coloured metal that had caught his eye not three days ago when he was out grabbing lunch, and thinking about how great it would look on Castiel’s finger.
xx
Castiel awoke feeling cold, with an icy chill nipping at his gut. He had been dreaming. It hadn’t been a nice dream, but it was too chaotic to remember upon waking. He shuddered, feeling that niggling at the back of his mind, like he was forgetting something important and felt a wash of guilt flood his veins. He just wished he hadn’t been such an idiot Friday night; maybe then he could figure out what the hell was going on with him. Castiel fumbled for his phone, spying the time on the clock. It was the wee hours of the morning, but Balthazar would probably be awake. Castiel hovered his finger over his third speed dial key, but set his Blackberry aside. Balthazar would only worry if he heard from Castiel at 3 o’clock in the morning, and the older brother thought better of calling. Maybe Michael then? He’d be up, wouldn’t he? It was only midnight there… But Elise and Edmund would probably be sleeping, and Castiel didn’t relish the thought of potentially waking his young niece and nephew with a ringing phone.
Jimmy was out of the question, his twin rose with the birds regardless of the day of the week and Amelia would be angry at him for months if he woke them in the middle of the night. And where the hell was Dean? Castiel slumped back on the bed, arms flung to the sides as he huffed. Dean was probably doing one of his early morning wanderings and would be back soon enough. Castiel nestled down further in the rapidly cooling sheets, wanting the warmth of Dean next to him to chase away whatever it was that was picking at Castiel’s subconscious.
“Cas?” As if on cue, Dean’s voice broke the silence, there was a hint of worry in his tone. “What’s up, Babe?”
Huh, the endearment was slipping out a lot more often as of late, Castiel noted. “Nothing,” Cas responded, he eyes dancing over Dean’s bare chest, silvered in the gauzy moonlight. How was the younger man not cold? It was freezing in this damn apartment.
“Okay,” Dean replied, not at all convinced.
“It’s cold, Dean,” Castiel said, changing the subject.
Dean chuckled, “Sorry. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Castiel watched Dean disappear back down the short corridor to their small washroom. The taller man reappeared moments later and climbed into bed. Castiel hissed as Dean’s icy toes hit his legs.
“Sorry,” Dean said again.
Castiel turned towards the younger man and shifted him onto his side. Castiel curled around Dean’s back and nestled his nose in the soft, fine hairs at his nape, sliding as close as possible while avoiding the chilly toes. Dean shifted backwards, so he was pressed more firmly against Castiel’s chest, curve of his ass wriggling against the soft swell of Castiel’s groin. Castiel groaned faintly.
“Sorry,” Dean said a third time, not at all repentant now. Castiel could practically hear the filthy grin curling his lips.
Castiel trailed lazy kisses behind Dean’s ear and along his neck, humming into the sweet skin as Dean’s wriggling became more purposeful with each brush of lips. “What came over you earlier tonight?”
Dean shrugged. “Dunno, just felt it was something I had to do. You were acting a little weird Friday night when I brought you home.”
Any thread of arousal that had been slowly burgeoning disappeared with that casually muttered musing. Castiel froze. “Weird how?”
“Just off… You kept on trying to tell me something, but I haven’t a clue what it was. You were a little passed the slurry stage… And you’ve stopped kissing me why?” Dean turned to look over his shoulder, shooting Cas a gently aggrieved glare.
Castiel pressed a distracted kiss to Dean’s neck, thoughts cascading around and trying to latch onto the elusive strands of his Friday memories. His stomach felt heavy and cold again, and he squeezed his arms around Dean’s firm chest, even if he was mentally distanced. Dean wiggled around in the circle of Castiel’s arms until he was facing the older man, eyes flicking around Castiel’s closed expression, a frown falling on his full lips.
“Dude, what’s up?” Dean asked, nudging Castiel in the chest.
“I… don’t know,” Castiel replied. “Sorry, I’m just…”
Dean’s smile was a little watery. “Hey, it’s late. Why don’t we try and do that sleep thing everyone’s always talking about? I hear it’s a beautiful thing.”
Castiel shook himself free from whatever held him, after seeing Dean’s disappointed smile. “Sleep is overrated.”
Dean snorted at that one. “Please, if you could get paid to sleep, you would do it all day.”
“Yes, well, there’re also other things I’d do all day if I could get paid for it. Now quiet, I believe I was supposed to be kissing you,” Castiel murmured.
“I’m not sure if I should be offended at that one,” Dean quirked a brow.
“No, be flattered, because you’re the only one who could keep me entertained all day. Now hush.” Castiel followed up his words with a deep, pressing kiss, slotting his mouth against Dean’s with the comfort and familiarity of two people who had been together for as long as they had. Dean’s lips parted without a thought as their tongues came out to spar languidly in the dark of the morning. The younger man sidled closer to Castiel, pressing the full length of his body against the hard, slender planes of the blue-eyed man. Castiel twitched involuntarily as Dean’s still-chilly toes came in contact with his legs, and Dean chuckled against Castiel’s lips showing no remorse.
“Brat,” Castiel whispered against Dean’s mouth.
“You love it,” Dean whispered back.
Castiel growled a little at that one and pushed up against Dean’s body, easily flipping the younger man to the flat of his back and looming over him in the darkness. The bed squeaked a little and Dean and Cas both shot a quick glance at the slightly ajar door of their bedroom, suddenly mindful that they weren’t alone in the house.
“Damnit,” Dean muttered.
“You’ll just have to be quiet, Dean Winchester, because you’ve been a damned little cock tease all night, and I’ve had about enough of it.”
Dean stuck his tongue out at Cas, before scrambling away and out of bed. Castiel chased him with his arms but only succeeded in brushing smooth skin with his fingertips. Dean shut their bedroom door quietly, pressing the lock in on the doorknob, before hurrying back over and crawling under the covers. Castiel hissed once again at the bloody cold toes.
“You need slippers,” Castiel murmured, rolling Dean under him again.
“No fucking way,” Dean replied, pressing his chest up against the other man’s and wrapping his arms around Castiel’s neck. “Slippers are lame, Dude, and you’re talking too much.” Dean pressed his lips to Castiel’s again.
“And you’re bossy,” Castiel answered between kisses.
Dean grinned against Castiel’s lips, murmuring, “That’s what makes me so much fun.”
Castiel growled again and resumed attacking Dean’s mouth, feeling those firm, slightly callused hands trailing down the cotton of his T-shirt, and Castiel was suddenly not cold at all. He pulled back just enough to pull the shirt over his head, ignoring Dean’s little whimper at the brief distance, in favour of being able to press bare skin to bare skin, firm muscle to firm muscle. Dean arched up into him, pressing their hips firmly together and began a slow teasing grind, the thin layers of cotton that separated them acting as a very poor - but also as a very impenetrable - barrier between them.
Castiel’s fingers teased down the increasing heat of Dean’s chest, rubbing and kneading at the base of his ribs, then lower, over the top of the green-eyed man’s hips, running his nails along the curve of the bone he found there, causing Dean to start and arch into him more firmly. Dean’s hands had migrated down Castiel’s back and were slowly squeezing and rubbing at his ass, trailing low over the swell at the bottom and teasing infuriatingly at the ticklish part just behind Castiel’s knee. The gesture shot little sparks of arousal straight down Castiel’s side, making him all the harder.
Dean was also doing interesting things to Castiel’s neck, lapping and nibbling at his throat before flattening his tongue and running it in a straight line from clavicle to earlobe. Castiel hissed out a breath and grinded down on Dean’s hips, seeking more friction as those straight, white teeth bit and sucked at the soft skin of Castiel’s ear.
Dean chuckled at how easy Castiel was, a soft gust of breath ghosting over Castiel’s ear, causing the older man to lean down and bite at Dean’s neck in retaliation, expertly raising a small, red mark that would be a bruise by morning. Dean’s eyes fluttered closed as he moaned and arched into Castiel, attack on the blue-eyed man’s ear temporarily abandoned, leaving Castiel open to unleash an onslaught of his own.
Castiel leaned in again and dragged his teeth gently along the curve of Dean’s shoulder, then over to the jut of hard bone at the base of his neck. Dean’s blunt nails dug into the skin of Castiel’s legs at that, surely leaving behind tiny crescents in their wake. Castiel scratched his nails gently, feather light, down Dean’s side. Dean moaned low and throaty and Castiel clamped his other hand around those wanton lips, before any louder noise could escape. Dean fluttered his eyes closed and nodded before opening them in a glare at the slightly older man. Castiel smiled and leaned down again, snatching a kiss from pouty, flushed and swollen lips, after slowly removing his hand.
“I thought you were going to be quiet,” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear, feeling the shivers dance down Dean’s skin at the ghosting breath.
“You’re the one who keeps fucking talking,” Dean panted up at him. He bit none-too-gently at Castiel’s shoulder, causing the blue-eyed man to release a hiss at the sharp pain, followed by a breathy little laugh that he knew drove Dean crazy.
“You’re a monster,” Castiel said around his chuckle.
It was Dean’s turn to growl as he reached up and flipped them in one quick, easy move, the springs of the bed squeaking ever so slightly as Castiel’s displaced weight landed bodily on the mattress below. Dean trailed soft, warm fingers down Castiel’s arms as he devoured his lips, desperate for the wet darkness, and the taste of Castiel’s mouth. Castiel’s mouth dropped open in a silent gasp, arching his neck as Dean grabbed his arms and pinned them above his head, dropping kisses down Castiel’s jaw, neck, and collar bone, skilled tongue dipping lower and lower to suck and nip at erect nipples, which had Castiel gasping again and seeking more.
Dean let his fingers trail away from their grasp on Castiel’s wrists, gentle touches brushing feather light down the sensitive underside of Castiel’s arms, before trailing lower, across the corduroy jut of ribs and the firm muscle of Castiel’s abdomen. Dean snagged on Castiel’s embarrassingly dampening cotton pants and dragged them off and down his hips in one swift move. With little more preamble than a nip and a lick to Castiel’s inner thighs, Dean took Castiel’s solid erection into the suffocating heat of his talented mouth. Castiel arched up before he could stop himself, but Dean was ready and had pulled off just enough, holding steady hands on Castiel’s hips to prevent the motion again.
“Fuck…Jesus…Dean,” Castiel panted, quiet and barely audible. He felt Dean’s lips curl into a grin, the unsettling pressure of sharp teeth just grazing the sensitive skin of Castiel cock at the motion, but no more than that. Then Dean began to move and Castiel lost whatever coherent thoughts he may have possessed, as they all narrowed down to the sensation of a wickedly talented tongue that knew how to undo him in minutes.
Castiel felt like Dean was trying to strip him bare with that slick sinuous muscle alone. The slightly younger man licked and sucked at all the right moments, and in all the right places. He traced along the thick, throbbing vein along the underside of Castiel’s dick, before dipping briefly into the tiny weeping slit at the tip, then doing it all over again. Dean all but crashed his mouth down and Castiel felt the teasing pressure of the back of a throat on the head. Every instinct told him thrust, more, need but firm, work-calloused hands kept Castiel’s hips pinned with delightfully bruising pressure, and all he could do was grip the headboard and enjoy the ride. Then the world suddenly narrowed back into sharp, abrupt focus when Dean pulled away with a wicked grin.
“Fuck, Dean, what the hell?” Castiel panted.
“Fuck Dean, exactly,” Dean retorted.
If that wasn’t the best idea Castiel ever heard, then he didn’t know what could be a better one. The blue-eyed man reached up and gripped Dean’s arms, reversing their positions in an instant, the bed creaking and whining once again. Both men paused and waited before snickering like teenagers, and then Castiel was fumbling around in their bedside table for the key ingredient for what came next, while Dean was cursing the string on his pants that had been pulled the wrong way and was now stuck. He managed to navigate it free and pushed his pants down his legs in a hurried, fumbling motion.
With skin bared and on display, ready and waiting, Castiel could only lean up and press a deep, probing kiss to Dean’s lips, a little slower and a little more languid than previously, and Dean was whimpering up into his mouth, moaning softly as he pulled Castiel closer to his body with arms and legs.
“Cas, please,” Dean whispered.
Castiel nodded, gave another brief kiss, before he had the tube of lubricant in his hands once again and was coating his fingers in the cool gel, taking pity on the wrecked man below him and warming it the best he could, before probing at the wanting hole.
Dean tensed involuntarily at the initial pressure, like he always did, regardless of how many times they did this, before he released the breath he’d been holding through his nose, and Castiel felt the tight ring of muscle relax around his questing digit. Dean’s eyes squeezed shut, obscuring Castiel’s view of dark pupils blown wide, almost completely hiding the ring of mossy green.
Castiel waited again, then whispered, “Dean.”
“Yeah, go for it,” Dean breathed, flickering his eyes open once again and locking Castiel’s gaze. After the initial sharp probe and burn, Dean’s body became relaxed more and more. Each finger began to slide in easily until Castiel was nudging Dean’s prostate with every gentle stroke, and Dean was whimpering and squirming below.
“Fuck Cas, enough, enough,” Dean panted.
Castiel nodded, grabbing more lube and smearing it around his waiting cock, subconsciously fluttering his eyes closed even at his own touch, before lining himself up and pressing. Another clench and Castiel breathed slowly, waiting for the sign that Dean was ready, waiting for the minute the younger man finally relinquished the control he was so desperate to maintain even after three years.
It happened all at once, as it usually did, Dean’s entire body seemed to let go with a sigh, before green bore deep and desperate into blue and Castiel slid inside the tight, moist heat with ease.
Unbidden, a low moan fell from Castiel’s panting mouth. Castiel, could usually be quiet to the point of deafening when it came to sex, and Dean, hearing the sound he loved, thrust back and took him all in at once. A quivery little cry slipped free of cupid’s bow lips that Castiel caught in a deep kiss, before the sound could travel too far. As he thrust and pulled and Dean pushed back, both of them fell easily into the familiar rhythm that came from knowing someone as intimately as they knew each other.
Dean knew after Castiel released all those dirty little noises and the long stream of curses that Castiel was lost, and their tempo increased, straining against one another. Bodies slick with sweat from the exertion, Dean could only hold on to Castiel’s shoulders as the agent reached down from where he was braced on his elbows and grabbed Dean’s weeping cock tight in his sure fist, pulling and stroking until Dean had to bite his lip until it bled to keep the cry so desperate to escape trapped inside. Then, warm and wet, Castiel released. A few more easy tugs and Dean was falling over the edge as well, head thrown back in blissful abandon.
Castiel panted above him, then fell bodily on top of the slightly larger man, crushing him under comfortable weight, and Dean clung to him, wrapping his arms tightly around Castiel’s body and burying his nose in Castiel’s neck, the only sound in their dark room the harshness of their panted breaths.
Castiel felt a warm trickle on his shoulder and pulled back slightly, shaking his head. “What am I going to do with you?” It was warm and affectionate. Castiel gently brushed the small trickle of blood away, then leaned up and kissed Dean.
Dean smiled, chagrined.
“Apparently I missed some… Strange how your blood and semen taste almost identical,” Castiel mused with a quirky little smile, his eyes flashing in jest.
Dean snorted out a laugh and pushed at the older man. “Get off of me, Weirdo.”
“No, I rather like it here,” Castiel responded and laid back down, resting his cheek on Dean’s shoulder. He shifted just enough to allow his softening erection to slip free of Dean’s cradling heat. Dean grimaced a little at the warm trickle that followed the movement, but just shook his head and squeezed the other man in a hug.
Dean waited a beat, feeling Castiel’s slowly-evening breaths against his chest, their sweat drying in the cool room, and the almost annoying tickle of Castiel’s sex-mussed hair against his cheek, before saying, casually, “Your turn to wash the sheets, you know.”
“Well fuck,” Castiel said lightly.
Dean chuckled.
End Chapter
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