fic: MMOM #24: Dedicated to All Human Beings (Dean/Castiel)
Title: Dedicated to All Human Beings
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Sam, Dean and Castiel are not belong to me.
Word Count: 1650
Notes: Dean and Cas and the bedroom. Post-4.22. Title from Radiohead’s “reckoner” (quite possibly the best song in the universe). My Dean/Cas mojo is back today, thanks to caramel frappuccinos, the first cigarette of the day, and lazy Sundays.
“Now don’t disappear on me,” Dean warns as he watches Cas bite his tongue.
He wants to keep him near. Cas kneels by his feet and bends over the bed face-down. Dean can see the side of his face, his shut eyes, his mouth panting itself dry. The rest of him is covered by trenchcoat. His small white hands clutch the bedspread.
That is all Dean can get from him, but he still tries. Dean lets himself make sounds, give into the feelings caused by the motion of his fist over his cock. Cas would open his eyes and press his forehead into the bed, look for a moment before closing his eyes again, breathing rough on the bedspread. Dean lets himself move, presses himself against the back of the headboard and spreads his legs out across the bed in front of Cas. But Cas won’t look.
“Do you want this, Cas?” He stretches, lets his whole body respond to the jerk of his hand. “Do you want to look?”
Cas starts to turn his head away.
“Do you love us?”
And Cas moans.
“Do you want us?”
The horrible realization dawns on them both. Yes.
“Yes. Dean, yes.” And it is almost a cry.
“Yes,” Dean feels triumphant. “Cas.”
It felt so good. It felt so good to push Cas, to force him to respond. And Cas would respond. He chose Dean because that’s where his faith led him. But Dean needed to prove it. Needed to show it.
Every time he opens his eyes, every moan is an acknowledgement; Dean craves it, wants to make it better, make it so much better.
So close, moving his hand just like that, so close. “C’mon, Cas, give me something here.”
Cas presses his face into the mattress and covers his ears with his arms.
And Dean has to close his own eyes, turn his head to the ceiling and breathe out nonsense. “Dammit, Cas. I wish you could fuck me right now.”
Dean can’t see his own eyelashes, or the freckles spreading over his skin. Or the skin on his thumb, how it drags along the slick hardness. He can’t hear the litany in Cas’ head, or his hard-on underneath his clothes, pressed against the bed. He doesn’t know.
“Cas, don’t hide on me here. I need a sign, something.”
They feel the bed shift with his frustration, the headboard knocking against the wall.
When Castiel lifts his head, Dean can see wetness on his cheeks, spiking his eyelashes, and that shouldn’t work but it does. And he’s that much closer… But… “Cas, it’s ok.” He doesn’t mean for that to come out as a whine but it does.
When Castiel crawls up to Dean and lets his coat fall around them, Dean has to let go of himself just to hang on, catch his breath and ball his right hand up in the sheets. “Cas.”
Cas grabs Dean by the shoulders. “How are you doing this to me?” Asks it like it’s hurting him. Like he’s above this. And he is.
“No, wait,” and Dean grabs the back of his head and kisses him, closes his eyes briefly, willing Cas to do the same.
He slams his body against the headboard when Cas touches him, breaking the kiss. He’s playing with him so unexpectedly, shocks of feeling and speed and hesitation, so Dean just breathes through it and waits for it to hit him.
Dean stares at Cas’ lowered eyelids and swears he can feel the gaze from beneath, prays it’s willing and wanting and sure.
When he is finally pushed over the edge, Cas jumps on top of him, presses their bodies together and breathes hard and desperate, his brow furrowed, his eyes shut.
Dean is silent, listening as Cas breathes hard in time to the pulse of Dean’s cock.
“Can you feel that?” he whispers.
Listening to Cas moan like Dean would moan if he allowed himself to, watching as Cas is pressed there, as if floating on top of him, riding his orgasm from above.
“Do you know what that feels like?” Dean feels Cas’ hardness then, ignored between them. He knows it will remain that way. He doesn’t want it to.
“Cas,” pleading with him.
Castiel cries out his name and it takes him higher, frees him to feel it.
“Oh god, oh god, Cas…,” before he soaks Cas’ dress shirt through, and comes alone.
They lay there together as the room grew dark. Dean could hear Sam come back, close the door of the room next door. Dean felt Cas cling to him, and he felt his hardness still. He thought about whatever messed up things Cas was telling himself in his head.
It made Dean sad to think how their existences were so different, their sex would always be like this - laced with disrespect, frustration, cosmic ironies, built-in misunderstandings and goings too far.
Cas starts to shift.
“No, don’t, Cas.”
“I have to go.”
“You mean you have to get away from me.” Dean sees the wetness all over Cas’ white shirt and he feels like shit. He didn’t really deserve that either. Dean takes the opportunity to tuck himself away, since Cas hasn’t removed a single piece of clothing.
“Don’t apologize for being the way god made you, Dean.” And Cas’ tone is so kind and apologetic.
“But didn’t god make you?” He didn’t want to be angry, but he was.
“He made us different for a reason. So we would obey.”
Dean thought for once to keep from screaming. “So you’re thinking I’m the snake here, huh? I’m something sent to lead you into temptation.”
Cas is silent.
“But didn’t god put us together in the first place?”
“The angels gave me my orders, Dean.”
Shit. “And you’re not thinking their motives were 100% honest?”
“It doesn’t seem likely, no.”
“But?”
“But that would mean it was wrong of me to save you from Hell, and I don’t believe that.”
“Why not?” And maybe Dean had been waiting to ask that question for a year.
“You speak of righteous acts, righteous causes. That was righteous. Dean Winchester does not belong in Hell.”
“Well, why not?”
Silence.
“Because of the mission?”
“I don’t know,” is all Castiel says.
“Because it feels wrong.”
“Unjust.”
He can’t hesitate now. “Because you love me?”
“Yes.”
“And because you worry that’s a problem?”
“Yes. I worry it’s going to end the world. Don’t you?”
“Do you think that’s even possible? God would put our dicks before the fate of the world? We would put our dicks before the fate of the world? Come on, we’re not actually monkeys here.” And yeah, Dean knows that if you want a reaction, you can always get one through a guy’s father. He knows that well.
“And the way you tease me, that doesn’t hold an element of danger? That isn’t why you like it?”
Now Dean is silent.
“You wouldn’t willingly forsake the world if it meant saving your brother?”
Dean doesn’t have an answer. Castiel is throwing his favorite argument back at him.
“Don’t tell me emotions aren’t deadly. I’ve seen yours twist around themselves for years. I’ve felt the things you’ve made me feel.”
“What do you want me to apologize for? Do you want me to say I’m sorry for making you feel? Do you want me to take it all back now, pretend it doesn’t exist?”
“No, I want you to show me some respect!”
“This is sex, Cas! You make me beg for it, so I make you beg for it. You make me come, I make you come. That’s how it’s supposed to work! It’s not disrespect, it’s sex.”
“I was never meant to have it.”
“Well now it’s your choice!”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is! Make it.”
“It’s not right - what I want is not supposed to matter. Only that I obey.”
“And forsake humans? God forgave Adam, didn’t he? Even he likes us now too.”
“He threw you out of Paradise forever and condemned your children as sinners from birth.”
“Then screw him, Cas. How’s that fair? What’s he going to do to us he hasn’t already done?”
Dean waits with his heart thumping. He can sense Castiel’s need to get away, the way it hovers around their intimacy like a ghost. “If you disappear on me, you’re going to lose me, and do you have anything to lose right now besides me? Anywhere else to go?” He wishes to god that doesn’t sound like a threat, but it’s the truth.
Cas pinches his face together, his face of human agony. “I don’t want to lose you, Dean. My choice was clear, and I made it willingly.”
“Then can you stop acting all ashamed of me? Can you leave me with something, anything, to hold onto?” Dean’s hands were resting palms up in his lap, his legs still spread out on the bed.
Cas walks over to the bed again and lays down on his side, pressing his face into the mattress again. Dean takes his face in his hands and rolls him on his back. He wants to kiss him again, but doesn’t. They just rest in the dark, practice a sense of trust and resist every urge to flee.
“Hey Cas. I think this is supposed to get easier with time, you know.”
“Does it? Have you even done this before?”
“No. But that’s what I hear.”
“Do you love Sam less with time?”
“No. Not in the slightest.”
“I didn’t think so. So I guess that’s that then.”
“Yup. You’re stuck with me, until all the armies of heaven and hell break us apart.”
“Well, they are coming after us, so that shouldn’t take long.”
“Nope, you’ll be rid of me soon enough.”
“Ok, Dean. Until then.”
“Until then.”
Castiel sighs. But he doesn’t leave.
The End ...read part 2
Author: eggblue
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Supernatural, Sam, Dean and Castiel are not belong to me.
Word Count: 1650
Notes: Dean and Cas and the bedroom. Post-4.22. Title from Radiohead’s “reckoner” (quite possibly the best song in the universe). My Dean/Cas mojo is back today, thanks to caramel frappuccinos, the first cigarette of the day, and lazy Sundays.
“Now don’t disappear on me,” Dean warns as he watches Cas bite his tongue.
He wants to keep him near. Cas kneels by his feet and bends over the bed face-down. Dean can see the side of his face, his shut eyes, his mouth panting itself dry. The rest of him is covered by trenchcoat. His small white hands clutch the bedspread.
That is all Dean can get from him, but he still tries. Dean lets himself make sounds, give into the feelings caused by the motion of his fist over his cock. Cas would open his eyes and press his forehead into the bed, look for a moment before closing his eyes again, breathing rough on the bedspread. Dean lets himself move, presses himself against the back of the headboard and spreads his legs out across the bed in front of Cas. But Cas won’t look.
“Do you want this, Cas?” He stretches, lets his whole body respond to the jerk of his hand. “Do you want to look?”
Cas starts to turn his head away.
“Do you love us?”
And Cas moans.
“Do you want us?”
The horrible realization dawns on them both. Yes.
“Yes. Dean, yes.” And it is almost a cry.
“Yes,” Dean feels triumphant. “Cas.”
It felt so good. It felt so good to push Cas, to force him to respond. And Cas would respond. He chose Dean because that’s where his faith led him. But Dean needed to prove it. Needed to show it.
Every time he opens his eyes, every moan is an acknowledgement; Dean craves it, wants to make it better, make it so much better.
So close, moving his hand just like that, so close. “C’mon, Cas, give me something here.”
Cas presses his face into the mattress and covers his ears with his arms.
And Dean has to close his own eyes, turn his head to the ceiling and breathe out nonsense. “Dammit, Cas. I wish you could fuck me right now.”
Dean can’t see his own eyelashes, or the freckles spreading over his skin. Or the skin on his thumb, how it drags along the slick hardness. He can’t hear the litany in Cas’ head, or his hard-on underneath his clothes, pressed against the bed. He doesn’t know.
“Cas, don’t hide on me here. I need a sign, something.”
They feel the bed shift with his frustration, the headboard knocking against the wall.
When Castiel lifts his head, Dean can see wetness on his cheeks, spiking his eyelashes, and that shouldn’t work but it does. And he’s that much closer… But… “Cas, it’s ok.” He doesn’t mean for that to come out as a whine but it does.
When Castiel crawls up to Dean and lets his coat fall around them, Dean has to let go of himself just to hang on, catch his breath and ball his right hand up in the sheets. “Cas.”
Cas grabs Dean by the shoulders. “How are you doing this to me?” Asks it like it’s hurting him. Like he’s above this. And he is.
“No, wait,” and Dean grabs the back of his head and kisses him, closes his eyes briefly, willing Cas to do the same.
He slams his body against the headboard when Cas touches him, breaking the kiss. He’s playing with him so unexpectedly, shocks of feeling and speed and hesitation, so Dean just breathes through it and waits for it to hit him.
Dean stares at Cas’ lowered eyelids and swears he can feel the gaze from beneath, prays it’s willing and wanting and sure.
When he is finally pushed over the edge, Cas jumps on top of him, presses their bodies together and breathes hard and desperate, his brow furrowed, his eyes shut.
Dean is silent, listening as Cas breathes hard in time to the pulse of Dean’s cock.
“Can you feel that?” he whispers.
Listening to Cas moan like Dean would moan if he allowed himself to, watching as Cas is pressed there, as if floating on top of him, riding his orgasm from above.
“Do you know what that feels like?” Dean feels Cas’ hardness then, ignored between them. He knows it will remain that way. He doesn’t want it to.
“Cas,” pleading with him.
Castiel cries out his name and it takes him higher, frees him to feel it.
“Oh god, oh god, Cas…,” before he soaks Cas’ dress shirt through, and comes alone.
They lay there together as the room grew dark. Dean could hear Sam come back, close the door of the room next door. Dean felt Cas cling to him, and he felt his hardness still. He thought about whatever messed up things Cas was telling himself in his head.
It made Dean sad to think how their existences were so different, their sex would always be like this - laced with disrespect, frustration, cosmic ironies, built-in misunderstandings and goings too far.
Cas starts to shift.
“No, don’t, Cas.”
“I have to go.”
“You mean you have to get away from me.” Dean sees the wetness all over Cas’ white shirt and he feels like shit. He didn’t really deserve that either. Dean takes the opportunity to tuck himself away, since Cas hasn’t removed a single piece of clothing.
“Don’t apologize for being the way god made you, Dean.” And Cas’ tone is so kind and apologetic.
“But didn’t god make you?” He didn’t want to be angry, but he was.
“He made us different for a reason. So we would obey.”
Dean thought for once to keep from screaming. “So you’re thinking I’m the snake here, huh? I’m something sent to lead you into temptation.”
Cas is silent.
“But didn’t god put us together in the first place?”
“The angels gave me my orders, Dean.”
Shit. “And you’re not thinking their motives were 100% honest?”
“It doesn’t seem likely, no.”
“But?”
“But that would mean it was wrong of me to save you from Hell, and I don’t believe that.”
“Why not?” And maybe Dean had been waiting to ask that question for a year.
“You speak of righteous acts, righteous causes. That was righteous. Dean Winchester does not belong in Hell.”
“Well, why not?”
Silence.
“Because of the mission?”
“I don’t know,” is all Castiel says.
“Because it feels wrong.”
“Unjust.”
He can’t hesitate now. “Because you love me?”
“Yes.”
“And because you worry that’s a problem?”
“Yes. I worry it’s going to end the world. Don’t you?”
“Do you think that’s even possible? God would put our dicks before the fate of the world? We would put our dicks before the fate of the world? Come on, we’re not actually monkeys here.” And yeah, Dean knows that if you want a reaction, you can always get one through a guy’s father. He knows that well.
“And the way you tease me, that doesn’t hold an element of danger? That isn’t why you like it?”
Now Dean is silent.
“You wouldn’t willingly forsake the world if it meant saving your brother?”
Dean doesn’t have an answer. Castiel is throwing his favorite argument back at him.
“Don’t tell me emotions aren’t deadly. I’ve seen yours twist around themselves for years. I’ve felt the things you’ve made me feel.”
“What do you want me to apologize for? Do you want me to say I’m sorry for making you feel? Do you want me to take it all back now, pretend it doesn’t exist?”
“No, I want you to show me some respect!”
“This is sex, Cas! You make me beg for it, so I make you beg for it. You make me come, I make you come. That’s how it’s supposed to work! It’s not disrespect, it’s sex.”
“I was never meant to have it.”
“Well now it’s your choice!”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes it is! Make it.”
“It’s not right - what I want is not supposed to matter. Only that I obey.”
“And forsake humans? God forgave Adam, didn’t he? Even he likes us now too.”
“He threw you out of Paradise forever and condemned your children as sinners from birth.”
“Then screw him, Cas. How’s that fair? What’s he going to do to us he hasn’t already done?”
Dean waits with his heart thumping. He can sense Castiel’s need to get away, the way it hovers around their intimacy like a ghost. “If you disappear on me, you’re going to lose me, and do you have anything to lose right now besides me? Anywhere else to go?” He wishes to god that doesn’t sound like a threat, but it’s the truth.
Cas pinches his face together, his face of human agony. “I don’t want to lose you, Dean. My choice was clear, and I made it willingly.”
“Then can you stop acting all ashamed of me? Can you leave me with something, anything, to hold onto?” Dean’s hands were resting palms up in his lap, his legs still spread out on the bed.
Cas walks over to the bed again and lays down on his side, pressing his face into the mattress again. Dean takes his face in his hands and rolls him on his back. He wants to kiss him again, but doesn’t. They just rest in the dark, practice a sense of trust and resist every urge to flee.
“Hey Cas. I think this is supposed to get easier with time, you know.”
“Does it? Have you even done this before?”
“No. But that’s what I hear.”
“Do you love Sam less with time?”
“No. Not in the slightest.”
“I didn’t think so. So I guess that’s that then.”
“Yup. You’re stuck with me, until all the armies of heaven and hell break us apart.”
“Well, they are coming after us, so that shouldn’t take long.”
“Nope, you’ll be rid of me soon enough.”
“Ok, Dean. Until then.”
“Until then.”
Castiel sighs. But he doesn’t leave.
The End ...read part 2