FIC: The Touch of Your Hand Makes My Pulse React (Blindfold Fill)
Title: The Touch of Your Hand Makes My Pulse React
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Word length: 1500
Prompt: Dean can't stop thinking about Cas's fingers- imagining them wrapped around his cock, slowly stretching him open, hell, even just sucking on them.
He's drunk the first time he does it. Sam's off with some girl he picked up in the bar and Dean doesn't trust himself with the Impala. Cas comes when he prays, despite everything, and when his fingers come near Dean's forehead, Dean grabs clumsily at his hand and wraps his lips around Cas's fingers. It only lasts a couple of seconds before Dean lets go, just sober enough to be embarrassed. Cas's expression is unreadable as he presses his damp fingers to Dean's forehead and whisks him away.
It grows a bit from there. The next time Cas drops by, Sam is off hustling pool by himself, forgetting how he used to do this with Dean, and Dean is drinking again, alone in the motel room. Cas pours an inch of amber liquid into a glass for him and hands it over. When Dean takes it, Cas doesn't step back; he raises his hand and traces Dean's lower lip with his thumb, his upper lip with two fingers. Dean's lips close around the fingers of their own accord, sucking gently for a moment before a car horn sounds outside the room, and Cas disappears.
The next time, Dean has a gash on his neck and the press of Cas's fingers means he'll live to fight another day. Dean kisses them without even thinking about it, drawing away when Sam rounds the corner, calling his name.
He teaches Cas how to clean the guns. He has to position Cas's hands, too, show him how to hold each one. Cas's nimble fingers make short work of it, and then he's on to the next gun - wipe, swipe, cock, twist. Dean's breathing heavily by the time Cas is done, by the time he raises his hand to Dean's lips. He turns aside at the sound of a key in the motel room door, and Cas disappears before Sam comes inside.
Dean begins to dream of those fingers, and each time Cas drops by, he touches Dean more in stolen, clandestine moments - squeezing his shoulder, gripping his forearm, once even touching his neck in something close to a caress. And Dean's dreams get more and more pornographic, kisses changing to handjobs, Cas's fingers wrapped around his cock, jacking him off. Cas's fingers inside him, spreading him, stroking him, filling him up. Dean leaves a dozen motel rooms with messy sheets.
A week after Sam gets his soul back they're at Bobby's, and Bobby and Sam are having a male-bonding night out - Bobby skittish and Sam hesitant, but Dean has the house to himself.
Cas doesn't say anything when he shows up, just shrugs out of his trench and suit jacket and holds out his hand. Dean takes it, allows himself to be led upstairs, down the hall and into the guest room. He's half-hard in his jeans already when Cas places one finger on his chest and pushes. He falls with a groan onto the bed. Cas stands in the vee of his legs and runs one hand through his hair, knuckle tracing his jawline before loosely gripping his chin and allowing him to suck the fingers of his other hand.
Dean reaches for the hand eagerly, sucks each finger into his mouth one by one, his tongue thrusting between joints and lapping at the tender skin there. He's moaning, and well on the way to being fully hard, when Cas takes his hand back. Dean's breath catches in his throat when Cas climbs onto the bed behind him and tugs him gently until his back is flush with Cas's chest. Cas leans his head on Dean's shoulder and they both watch him unbuckle Dean's belt and unzip his pants, pulling out Dean's cock.
Cas's wet hand holds it almost tenderly, and Dean glances away for just a moment to see the expression on Cas's face, a mirror to the tenderness in his hands and Dean's heart does a little flip-flop in his chest. He looks back down as Cas starts stroking him. Cas's fingers spread pre-cum all up and down Dean's shaft, close gently around his balls, tug at his pubes, trace the throbbing vein, all in deliberate, assured movements. He can feel Cas's arousal in his backside and Cas's moist breath on his cheek. His own breathing is speeding up and soon they're in sync and he's rising and falling in time with Cas's chest. His fists are tightened around the fabric of Cas's dress pants.
Cas makes a fist around Dean's cock and Dean thrusts into it, the head jutting swollen and dark red from the circle of Cas's fingers until Cas twists his hands like he did while cleaning the guns and Dean comes all over those marvelous hands. Cas keeps stroking him through the aftershocks until Dean starts to whine low in his throat.
He doesn't want Cas to leave yet but he's lost all power for speech. A whimper escapes him when Cas shifts around behind him and crawls off the bed. Cas silences him by thrusting one cum-covered hand into his mouth. Dean licks him clean and when he looks up again, Cas is stepping out of his pants and boxers. He glances down curiously at his curving cock before taking his hand back and quickly stripping Dean of his shirt and jeans. Dean reaches up to help with Cas's dress shirt and tie, and then they're finally naked and stretched out on the bed and Cas is running his hands up and down Dean's lower back and squeezing his ass. He looks almost curious again, and Dean would say something, something about lube and stretching, but he doesn't need to as Cas is dribbling lube from somewhere on his licked-clean hand and pressing a finger inside Dean.
It feels even better than he'd imagined - the burn, the pressure. Cas's fingers are long, and delicate, but shockingly strong and he stretches Dean out with single-minded purpose. He pushes Dean onto his back and drapes one of Dean's legs over his back. Another finger joins the first, brushing against his prostate, and Dean gasps. Cas strokes his prostate again and again and isn't long before Dean is babbling. Blood is rushing back to his cock. He has one hand fisted into Cas's hair, but Cas doesn't seem to mind that, or the ankle that keeps hitting his back. Dean's other hand has a death grip on the sheets when Cas presses his third finger in and scissors them. Dean keens and swears and draws his other leg up close to his chest. There's no way, absolutely no way he could fit another finger in there, but it's Cas's little finger and it's slick with lube and it slides in surprisingly easily. Dean's stretched wide for him and Cas is panting, pupils dilated as he curls his fingers in Dean, as he caresses Dean's prostate.
Cas adjusts, moving up on his elbows and Dean bites off a scream. Cas catches his eye before sealing his lips around the head of Dean's cock and sucking. His fingers are a continual pressure on his prostate, milking him and sucking him off until Dean bucks almost off the bed, shrieking as he comes for the second time that night.
He blacks out completely.
When he comes to, he's on his side and Cas is fucking him with slow, easy thrusts, holding him gently against his chest. It's sweet, much too sweet, and normally Dean would protest this kind of sex, if he'd ever had it before. But when he opens his mouth, Cas thrusts his fingers inside. Cas tastes like both of them, a little bitter, a little salty, a little bit perfect. Dean sucks on him contentedly as Cas keeps fucking him, his other hand splayed across Dean's stomach, just right for Dean to play with.
The only sounds are Cas's harsh breathing, the slurp of Dean's tongue and the soft slap of flesh against flesh as Cas takes his time fucking him, dragging his cock through the path his fingers had made. Dean loses track of time, floating in a blissed-out haze with Cas inside him until Cas suddenly speeds up and his rhythm goes erratic.
Cas comes with a cry and presses Dean tight against his chest until his breathing evens out. Dean is just starting to doze off, his mouth going slack around Cas's fingers, when Cas pulls them out, pulls his cock out, rolls Dean onto his back and climbs on top of him. Dean's lips are wet with spit when Cas leans down and kisses him, tangling his fingers in Dean's hair and exploring Dean's mouth with his tongue.
Dean holds his waist loosely and falls asleep between kisses.
Cas is gone when Dean wakes up, but when he stumbles into the kitchen, Cas is there, talking quietly to Sam and Bobby. They fall silent when Dean raises Cas's hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his open palm. Something inside Dean unknots at the smile on Cas's face, and he lets out a shaky breath, and smiles back.
Author: blue_fjords
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Word length: 1500
Prompt: Dean can't stop thinking about Cas's fingers- imagining them wrapped around his cock, slowly stretching him open, hell, even just sucking on them.
He's drunk the first time he does it. Sam's off with some girl he picked up in the bar and Dean doesn't trust himself with the Impala. Cas comes when he prays, despite everything, and when his fingers come near Dean's forehead, Dean grabs clumsily at his hand and wraps his lips around Cas's fingers. It only lasts a couple of seconds before Dean lets go, just sober enough to be embarrassed. Cas's expression is unreadable as he presses his damp fingers to Dean's forehead and whisks him away.
It grows a bit from there. The next time Cas drops by, Sam is off hustling pool by himself, forgetting how he used to do this with Dean, and Dean is drinking again, alone in the motel room. Cas pours an inch of amber liquid into a glass for him and hands it over. When Dean takes it, Cas doesn't step back; he raises his hand and traces Dean's lower lip with his thumb, his upper lip with two fingers. Dean's lips close around the fingers of their own accord, sucking gently for a moment before a car horn sounds outside the room, and Cas disappears.
The next time, Dean has a gash on his neck and the press of Cas's fingers means he'll live to fight another day. Dean kisses them without even thinking about it, drawing away when Sam rounds the corner, calling his name.
He teaches Cas how to clean the guns. He has to position Cas's hands, too, show him how to hold each one. Cas's nimble fingers make short work of it, and then he's on to the next gun - wipe, swipe, cock, twist. Dean's breathing heavily by the time Cas is done, by the time he raises his hand to Dean's lips. He turns aside at the sound of a key in the motel room door, and Cas disappears before Sam comes inside.
Dean begins to dream of those fingers, and each time Cas drops by, he touches Dean more in stolen, clandestine moments - squeezing his shoulder, gripping his forearm, once even touching his neck in something close to a caress. And Dean's dreams get more and more pornographic, kisses changing to handjobs, Cas's fingers wrapped around his cock, jacking him off. Cas's fingers inside him, spreading him, stroking him, filling him up. Dean leaves a dozen motel rooms with messy sheets.
A week after Sam gets his soul back they're at Bobby's, and Bobby and Sam are having a male-bonding night out - Bobby skittish and Sam hesitant, but Dean has the house to himself.
Cas doesn't say anything when he shows up, just shrugs out of his trench and suit jacket and holds out his hand. Dean takes it, allows himself to be led upstairs, down the hall and into the guest room. He's half-hard in his jeans already when Cas places one finger on his chest and pushes. He falls with a groan onto the bed. Cas stands in the vee of his legs and runs one hand through his hair, knuckle tracing his jawline before loosely gripping his chin and allowing him to suck the fingers of his other hand.
Dean reaches for the hand eagerly, sucks each finger into his mouth one by one, his tongue thrusting between joints and lapping at the tender skin there. He's moaning, and well on the way to being fully hard, when Cas takes his hand back. Dean's breath catches in his throat when Cas climbs onto the bed behind him and tugs him gently until his back is flush with Cas's chest. Cas leans his head on Dean's shoulder and they both watch him unbuckle Dean's belt and unzip his pants, pulling out Dean's cock.
Cas's wet hand holds it almost tenderly, and Dean glances away for just a moment to see the expression on Cas's face, a mirror to the tenderness in his hands and Dean's heart does a little flip-flop in his chest. He looks back down as Cas starts stroking him. Cas's fingers spread pre-cum all up and down Dean's shaft, close gently around his balls, tug at his pubes, trace the throbbing vein, all in deliberate, assured movements. He can feel Cas's arousal in his backside and Cas's moist breath on his cheek. His own breathing is speeding up and soon they're in sync and he's rising and falling in time with Cas's chest. His fists are tightened around the fabric of Cas's dress pants.
Cas makes a fist around Dean's cock and Dean thrusts into it, the head jutting swollen and dark red from the circle of Cas's fingers until Cas twists his hands like he did while cleaning the guns and Dean comes all over those marvelous hands. Cas keeps stroking him through the aftershocks until Dean starts to whine low in his throat.
He doesn't want Cas to leave yet but he's lost all power for speech. A whimper escapes him when Cas shifts around behind him and crawls off the bed. Cas silences him by thrusting one cum-covered hand into his mouth. Dean licks him clean and when he looks up again, Cas is stepping out of his pants and boxers. He glances down curiously at his curving cock before taking his hand back and quickly stripping Dean of his shirt and jeans. Dean reaches up to help with Cas's dress shirt and tie, and then they're finally naked and stretched out on the bed and Cas is running his hands up and down Dean's lower back and squeezing his ass. He looks almost curious again, and Dean would say something, something about lube and stretching, but he doesn't need to as Cas is dribbling lube from somewhere on his licked-clean hand and pressing a finger inside Dean.
It feels even better than he'd imagined - the burn, the pressure. Cas's fingers are long, and delicate, but shockingly strong and he stretches Dean out with single-minded purpose. He pushes Dean onto his back and drapes one of Dean's legs over his back. Another finger joins the first, brushing against his prostate, and Dean gasps. Cas strokes his prostate again and again and isn't long before Dean is babbling. Blood is rushing back to his cock. He has one hand fisted into Cas's hair, but Cas doesn't seem to mind that, or the ankle that keeps hitting his back. Dean's other hand has a death grip on the sheets when Cas presses his third finger in and scissors them. Dean keens and swears and draws his other leg up close to his chest. There's no way, absolutely no way he could fit another finger in there, but it's Cas's little finger and it's slick with lube and it slides in surprisingly easily. Dean's stretched wide for him and Cas is panting, pupils dilated as he curls his fingers in Dean, as he caresses Dean's prostate.
Cas adjusts, moving up on his elbows and Dean bites off a scream. Cas catches his eye before sealing his lips around the head of Dean's cock and sucking. His fingers are a continual pressure on his prostate, milking him and sucking him off until Dean bucks almost off the bed, shrieking as he comes for the second time that night.
He blacks out completely.
When he comes to, he's on his side and Cas is fucking him with slow, easy thrusts, holding him gently against his chest. It's sweet, much too sweet, and normally Dean would protest this kind of sex, if he'd ever had it before. But when he opens his mouth, Cas thrusts his fingers inside. Cas tastes like both of them, a little bitter, a little salty, a little bit perfect. Dean sucks on him contentedly as Cas keeps fucking him, his other hand splayed across Dean's stomach, just right for Dean to play with.
The only sounds are Cas's harsh breathing, the slurp of Dean's tongue and the soft slap of flesh against flesh as Cas takes his time fucking him, dragging his cock through the path his fingers had made. Dean loses track of time, floating in a blissed-out haze with Cas inside him until Cas suddenly speeds up and his rhythm goes erratic.
Cas comes with a cry and presses Dean tight against his chest until his breathing evens out. Dean is just starting to doze off, his mouth going slack around Cas's fingers, when Cas pulls them out, pulls his cock out, rolls Dean onto his back and climbs on top of him. Dean's lips are wet with spit when Cas leans down and kisses him, tangling his fingers in Dean's hair and exploring Dean's mouth with his tongue.
Dean holds his waist loosely and falls asleep between kisses.
Cas is gone when Dean wakes up, but when he stumbles into the kitchen, Cas is there, talking quietly to Sam and Bobby. They fall silent when Dean raises Cas's hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his open palm. Something inside Dean unknots at the smile on Cas's face, and he lets out a shaky breath, and smiles back.