SPN Fic: Each Breath (Dean/Cas; PG13)
Title: Each Breath
Word Count: 310
Rating: PG13
Original/Fandom: Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings (if any): Dean/Cas
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None
Summary: Life or death situation leads to a resolution of unresolved sexual tension.
Each breath is stolen as they run, the oxygen barely covering the effort it takes them to run. Too soon it will fail and they will be reduced to hyperventilating and clutching stitches while their muscles scream. Then they will be devoured by the dark and they won’t have to run anymore. It’ll be over.
But that isn’t today, Dean realises as he grabs hold of Cas’ coat, pulling him to a stop. The adrenaline keeps his heart thumping and his lungs gasping, his body tingling trying to lose heat and sweat dripping from him. He wants to say it’s gone, we’re ok, but his mouth just opens and closes, trying to drink in as much air as it can. Then there are lips on his and he’s breathing in more than just air. Hands are under his shirt, pulling the damp cloth away from his skin and dragging nails over it. His head spins and for a second he thinks he’s hallucinating or he’s dead after all but as Castiel pulls away, he realises he’d just forgotten to breath and his body was reminding him of that necessity. His vision blurred as he tried to catch his breath, hindered by Castiel’s mouth on his neck, biting at his throat. When his t-shirt flashed past his eyes, his brain finally kicked in.
“What...” he tried to organize the level of what the ever loving fuck is happening in his head but words failed him.
“You looked dangerously hot.” Castiel explained. “I was merely administering mouth-to-mouth and reducing the amount of clothing you were wearing in an attempt to lower your core temperature.”
Dean looked him up and down, noting the strain in his usually even voice and his blown pupils. “Like fuck you were.” He said, taking a deep breath he knew he’d need and pulling Castiel back into his body.
Word Count: 310
Rating: PG13
Original/Fandom: Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings (if any): Dean/Cas
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/etc): None
Summary: Life or death situation leads to a resolution of unresolved sexual tension.
Each breath is stolen as they run, the oxygen barely covering the effort it takes them to run. Too soon it will fail and they will be reduced to hyperventilating and clutching stitches while their muscles scream. Then they will be devoured by the dark and they won’t have to run anymore. It’ll be over.
But that isn’t today, Dean realises as he grabs hold of Cas’ coat, pulling him to a stop. The adrenaline keeps his heart thumping and his lungs gasping, his body tingling trying to lose heat and sweat dripping from him. He wants to say it’s gone, we’re ok, but his mouth just opens and closes, trying to drink in as much air as it can. Then there are lips on his and he’s breathing in more than just air. Hands are under his shirt, pulling the damp cloth away from his skin and dragging nails over it. His head spins and for a second he thinks he’s hallucinating or he’s dead after all but as Castiel pulls away, he realises he’d just forgotten to breath and his body was reminding him of that necessity. His vision blurred as he tried to catch his breath, hindered by Castiel’s mouth on his neck, biting at his throat. When his t-shirt flashed past his eyes, his brain finally kicked in.
“What...” he tried to organize the level of what the ever loving fuck is happening in his head but words failed him.
“You looked dangerously hot.” Castiel explained. “I was merely administering mouth-to-mouth and reducing the amount of clothing you were wearing in an attempt to lower your core temperature.”
Dean looked him up and down, noting the strain in his usually even voice and his blown pupils. “Like fuck you were.” He said, taking a deep breath he knew he’d need and pulling Castiel back into his body.