Touch Me, Touch You (Supernatural fanfiction) Dean/Cas NC-17
Damn, I've been writing a lot of porn lately. Here's some PWP featuring halos, wings, blowjobs, and light D/S.
For angel-kink, who is single-handedly trying to become the godmother of all Dean/Cas halo-kink porn.
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Dean discovered Cas's wings by accident.
It wasn't as if he could see them, even though he sort of knew they were there, so he could be forgiven for not making the connection the first time he grazed his fingernails down Cas's shoulder blades in bed and Cas arched his whole body, his breath catching in his throat and his hands tightening almost painfully on Dean's hips. After all, maybe Cas just really liked having his back scratched.
But eventually Cas had to explain that when Dean touched him in that way, he was putting his hands into the space Cas's wings would occupy if they existed on this plane of reality.
"And you can feel that?" Dean asked.
"Not usually," said Cas, "Not with most people. But it seems that the bond we share is allowing you to interact with my grace in ways that I did not anticipate."
Dean grinned. "Kinky," he said, "Can I see them?"
Cas seemed startled at the request, but he complied, letting his wings pour out of shoulders in matching cascades of disheveled, glossy, black feathers. Soon, seeing progressed to touching progressed to pulling and stroking roughly as they fucked on every surface in the motel room progressed to gently grooming while they both lazed about in the afterglow.
The wings became a staple of their sexual repertoire, and Dean couldn't have been happier about it.
So a week or so later when Dean first rested his hand on the top of Cas's head while Cas was blowing him, and Cas reacted by going slack-jawed and almost whimpering out a moan, Dean was aware enough not to assume that maybe Cas just really liked having his hair played with.
"What was that?" Dean asked, low and seductive. He tried digging his fingers into Cas's scalp, but it didn't have quite the same effect. He couldn't get Cas to writhe and moan the way he had before until he hovered his hand a few inches about Cas's head, flexing his fingers in the empty air. "There it is," he said as Cas buckled, clinging to Dean's legs to keep himself upright, "Don't tell me you have wings on your head, too."
"Don't be ridiculous," Cas rasped, and Dean fought the urge to point out that most people had much lower thresholds of ridiculous. "It's just my halo."
Dean was so delightfully surprised that he dropped his hand away from Cas's head, and Cas was able to catch his breath and stand. He pressed Dean against the wall where he was leaning, trying to distract from the interruption by rutting his naked body against Dean's, but Dean was far too intrigued to just let the topic drop. "You have a halo?" Dean said.
"Of course I do," said Cas, pulling away from Dean and sitting on the bed as he realized that Dean was going to insist on more explanation. He flexed his neck and shoulders like a ruffled bird trying to maintain his composure. "I'm an angel. What did you expect?"
"I dunno," said Dean, joining Cas on the bed. He almost sat chastely beside Cas, but then he thought better of it at the last minute and knelt to straddle Cas's lap instead. No need to kill the mood completely. "If it's there, then why couldn't I see it in the barn, when you first showed me your wings?"
Cas looked scandalized, protesting, "We'd only just met!" But he brought his hands up to Dean's hips, pulling him closer, anyway.
Dean clapped a hand to Cas's shoulder to keep himself upright as he laughed. Something about the fact that angels could be prudish about their halos was hilarious to him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he chuckled, bringing his laughter under control when he noticed Cas starting to look annoyed, "So, is it part of your grace? Like your wings?"
"I suppose it's similar in some ways," Cas said vaguely.
"Fine, be all cryptic like that," said Dean. He slowly brought his hand up above Cas's head, stopping just shy of where he now knew the halo rested. "Can I?"
Cas flinched away at first, but then he nodded. This time, when Dean's hand entered that space, making Cas melt into Dean's arms and breathe shallowly against his neck, Dean thought he could feel the hairs of his hand standing on end as if the air were electrified.
"Let me see it," Dean requested, and even though Cas was busy coming undone against him he rallied his faculties enough to answer.
"Like my wings?"
"Exactly."
Cas gasped as Dean twisted his hand through his halo wickedly. "Is it your intent to find a way to pervert all of my angelic features?" he asked, not sounding too bothered by it.
"I wasn't planning on it or anything," Dean chuckled, "But it doesn't sound like a bad idea. Why, do you have more? A harp? Your sword? Ooh, I can think of perverted things to do with your sword!"
"You are incorrigible," Cas said.
"I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a compliment," said Dean as he curled his hand into a fist and then, slowly, spread his fingers out flat to touch the whole circumference of where Cas's halo ought to be. Cas shivered violently against him. "So are you gonna let me see it or not?"
Before answering, Cas grabbed Dean's wrist to pull his hand away from his head. Once he had caught his breath for a second time, he regarded Dean seriously, pondering. Then he pushed Dean off his lap so that they were sitting side by side. "Close your eyes," he ordered.
Dean's face fell. "Shit, is it going to burn my eyes out?" he said, "Because if it is, I take it back. I don't need to see it."
"I don't believe it will harm you," Cas assured him, "I'm just trying to be cautious. My halo is a much purer manifestation of my grace than my wings. I honestly don't know what effect it will have on you."
Dean thought about that for a moment, then took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut, covering them with both hands. "Hit me," he said.
After a moment of confused silence, Cas began to ask, "Why do you want me to hit…"
"I mean do it!" Dean interrupted, "Go! Flame on!"
There was no blinding flash of light, no scorching heat. Dean simply became aware of a dull glow seeping through his fingers and under his eyelids, and of a strange sort of resonance in the air that hadn't been there before. He could feel his skin tingling, the sensation becoming stronger the closer he was to Cas. He could feel it on his face and the backs of his hands the most, on his back and feet the least. It was as if wherever the light of Cas's halo hit him, his skin responded.
"Dean?" Cas said.
"I'm okay," Dean assured him, "Can I open my eyes?"
"Yes," Cas said hesitantly, "It doesn't seem to be hurting you. Just be careful."
Dean was careful. First he took his hands away from his eyes, but all that happened was that the light shining through his eyelids became somewhat brighter and the soft tingling sensation spread across his whole face. He opened his eyes a crack, then wider, keeping them turned downwards, taking in the light only as it illuminated the bedspread.
Then, when it became clear that his eyes weren't about to burn out, he allowed himself to look directly at it.
He had expected it to make Cas look cute. He had expected a cherubic little accessory, a golden ring, maybe cocked to one side like a puppy with one floppy ear. Instead, Cas's halo reminded Dean of why, in the Bible, when men looked on angels for the first time, they tended to cower and worship. It was just a simple ring of metallic luminousness hanging in the air above and slightly behind his head, but it gave off that strange light so full of warmth and power, etching Cas's features in lines of shadow and making him look at once beautiful and monstrous.
But his voice was the same, and it snapped Dean out of his awed reverie when it said, "Are you alright?"
Dean swallowed hard before answering, "Yeah. Fine. That's, uh… that's really something."
"Thank you," said Cas, his not-quite-a-smile giving Dean the impression that he knew what an understatement Dean had just committed.
Dean reached out to touch Cas's face almost on instinct, as if to remind himself that this was still his own Cas even though he sat shrouded in heavenly light. But as soon as his hand rose, the waves of sensation radiating off the halo increased until his entire arm was shaking. He only managed to still himself when he rested his hand on Cas's cheek. "I can feel it," he said breathlessly, "Just from being close to it. Feels weird. Can I touch it?"
Cas leaned his face against Dean's hand and said ominously, "You can try."
"What does that mean?" said Dean, drawing his hand away a fraction of an inch.
"Touching it physically may prove to be very… intense," Cas explained.
"On a scale of touched-a-doorknob-after-shuffling-on-carpet-with-socks-on," said Dean, "To oh-god-oh-god-I'm-on-fire… How intense?"
"I honestly don't know," Cas admitted.
For some reason, the fact that Cas was just as clueless as Dean was kind of comforting. They may have been in uncharted territory, but at least they were there together. "Okay," said Dean, "Here goes."
He kept himself grounded against Cas's skin, sliding his hand slowly upwards. The closer he got to the ring of light, the harder the effects hit him. The vibration wasn't just in his skin anymore; it was in his bones, rattling them, making the joints buzz and the muscles around go slack. And it was more than physical. As his fingers drew so close that a good sneeze would have closed the gap, he thought he could feel the presence of something unknowable and terrifying and glorious.
His breathing was shallow and ragged, his skin slick with sweat, and he hesitated there as he wondered what would happen to him if he let his fingers fall through those last few inches of empty air.
"Dean," Cas whispered, and it was only then that Dean noticed that Cas was coming just as undone as Dean was. He sat hunched, his hands in his lap, trembling with the effort not to move, not to lean forward and close the gap himself.
And that was when Dean finally made the decision. "I'm gonna…" he murmured, twitching his fingers closer. They shivered in unison as the tension between hand and halo intensified.
"Do it," Cas commanded.
Dean screwed up his courage and closed his hand around the bright circle, and that was when everything went white.
It burned. Not just in his hand where it made contact with the circle of light, but radiating down his arm and into his chest, into every corner of him, into places he didn't know he had, into his very soul. His body shook from the spasms of his own muscles as well as from the vibration of the halo, which seemed to have found the perfect resonance to make Dean's flesh sing. He felt as if he should shake apart, but he held on for one second, and then two, and because he somehow remained whole he kept hanging on and letting the waves of sensation wash over him.
He could feel his heartbeat against his ribs. It pulsed in his fingertips and in his toes, his blood rushing so fast that he felt close to bursting. And, as he tightened his grip, he felt it in his cock as it hardened so rapidly that it bordered on painful.
He had fallen against Cas, or maybe Cas had fallen against him. He couldn't tell which of them was clinging to the other, which was holding the other up. All he knew was that they were both gasping, their lips brushing together as they fought for the same air. Cas was grinding up into him, or maybe he was grinding down onto Cas, or maybe it didn't matter because they were both achingly hard and neither was going to last long like this.
Dean let go. As if released from an electric shock, they both fell backwards, jerking and groaning as the current left their bodies.
"What the fuck was that?" said Dean hoarsely, "Not that I'm complaining, but… what the fuck was that?"
Cas sat up slowly. Even panting and sweating, his eyes languid with lust, the light falling on him from his halo made him look otherworldly. "I don't know," he said, "But I would like to do it again, please."
"Um, yeah," Dean laughed breathlessly, "Agreed." He started to reach forward.
But before Dean could make contact again, Cas lowered his eyes and added, "But this time, Dean? Hold me down."
The request made Dean smile. Cas liked letting Dean take control almost as much as Dean liked letting Cas take control. But Cas had asked first, and Dean wasn't about to get bratty about it. "You got it, babe," he said as he pushed Cas flat on his back, pinning him by straddling his pelvis and pressing a hand to his chest.
As Dean hovered his right hand in the bloom of light around Cas's halo, Cas steadied himself by wrapping his hands around Dean's left arm where it was planted against Cas's chest. He was gasping and moaning again even before Dean let his fingers slide gently along the inner curve of the halo.
The effect on Dean was the same - his blood racing and his bones humming - but he worked hard to push it aside and not let it show on his face. He had to focus. This was about Cas right now, and Dean had to keep perfect control so that Cas could be free to lose it. And sure enough, Cas was losing control. His eyes were slammed shut and his mouth gaping wide as his chest fluttered under the pressure of Dean's hand. Cas's grip tightened on Dean's arm, twisting and digging in with his fingers.
When Cas began tilting his head, trying to chase the touch of Dean's fingers on his halo, Dean shifted his left hand from Cas's chest to his throat. He rested it there lightly, putting just enough pressure to make his point. His thumb and first finger slid up to touch either side of Cas's jaw and hold him still. "Don't move," Dean ordered, surprising himself with the note of danger in his own voice.
"Yes," Cas whispered. Not even his lips moved when he spoke.
This time Dean didn't tease. He grabbed Cas's halo, white-knuckled, and began roughly sliding his fist back and forth around its circumference. Dean's vision swam, and this time he couldn't stop himself from buckling forward with a groan as his cock twitched and leaked pre-cum.
Cas tried valiantly to follow orders and stay still, but within seconds he was trembling and bucking up against Dean involuntarily, rattling out a long, unbroken moan. Dean shifted himself forward so that he was sitting on Cas's stomach, and hooked his feet backwards over the tops of Cas's thighs, effectively pinning Cas's hips to the bed and leaving him nothing to rut against for relief. Cas's moaning took on a desperate note.
Still Dean held on, even after the resonance that the halo was sending through his body became overwhelming. Pleasure bordered on pain, like being jacked off again too soon after an orgasm. Dean breathed through his teeth, willing himself to stay focused, to not let go.
"Too much," Cas stammered out as he felt the same overstimulation, "Too much! Let go!"
Dean only tightened his grip and swallowed down a groan. "No," he said roughly, "If I can take it, then so can you."
With a whimper, Cas lay back and surrendered to it. Dean studied his face. Yes, there were reserves of endurance left in them both. Just a little longer. And a little longer still. If Cas really wanted Dean to stop, then he had his safeword. And if he really, really wanted Dean to stop, he had more than enough strength to throw Dean through the wall and into the next county.
Dean held on, letting the intensity build past eroticism and into a sweet sort of torment, and only let go when he was sure that he was about to break apart.
Dean collapsed. With his face nestled in the crook of Cas's neck, both their chests heaving, all their limbs twitching, he gave them time to recover just a bit. But only just a bit. His body was still raw and oversensitive when he sat up slightly and cupped Cas's face in his hands.
"Okay?" he asked.
Cas looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Perfect," he breathed.
Dean put on a wicked smile. "Then let's keep going."
He grabbed both of Cas's wrists. His right hand was somewhat weaker from the aftereffects of touching the halo for so long, but he managed to press Cas's arms against the bed so that his upper body was spread out, an easy target for Dean's lips and teeth. Before, he might have gone for Cas's mouth or nipple or collarbone. Now, he couldn't resist leaning all the way forward and running his tongue against the edge of Cas's halo.
And, fuck, that had been a bad idea. Dean's entire head was ringing and he felt like his teeth were about to vibrate right out of his skull, but it was worth it for the way Cas arched up with a deep-throated scream.
"Ah, ah!" Dean groaned weakly as he rolled off Cas, "Okay. Need a minute here." He held his face in his hands, trying to make his jaw stop throbbing.
Cas, even though he had been sprawled in a quivering heap a moment ago, recovered first. Fucking angels and their fucking stamina. He rolled over to where Dean was lying and nudged Dean's ear with his nose. The motion brought the halo close enough to Dean's head that Dean had to flinch away with a growl.
"More?" Cas requested in a dreamy voice.
"Fuck off," Dean replied, laughing helplessly, "You had your fun. It's my turn." He flopped flat on his back, every limb relaxed, making it clear that if anyone was going to do anything to anyone, Cas would be doing it to Dean and not the other way around.
Cas took the hint. "Is that how you want it?" he said, his voice instantly changing from pleading to commanding. Like sense memory, the tone went straight to Dean's cock.
"I want it any way you give it to me," Dean replied automatically. He could already feel the halo's effects diminishing as he relaxed his body, resetting it for another round, subconsciously steeling it for whatever Cas had planned.
Cas straddled Dean's supine form. From below, Dean could see the way the halo illuminated every line of his face, every curve of his torso, every groove between the muscles of his arms and legs. The light shined on him from without, but it also seemed to make him glow from within. Dean reached up with two fingers and reverently slid them down the ridges of Cas's abs, dipping alternately into light and shadow.
"I like you from this angle," he said with a grin.
Cas looked down on him like a hawk might look down at a mouse. "Don't speak, except to use your safeword," he ordered. Dean shut his mouth.
Dean watched, uncomprehending, as Cas reached up with both hands and took his halo between his thumbs and fingers as if he were adjusting a hat. He wiggled it this way and that, twisting it and pulling it, until it finally came away in his hands. He brought it down to chest level. Now his face was lit from below, giving his divine image a hint of the macabre.
"It's detachable?" Dean wanted to say, but he remembered his orders and held his tongue. That was probably why Cas had told him to shut up in the first place: he didn't want Dean interrupting him by demanding to know how halos worked. So Dean just smiled coyly, letting Cas know that he'd be asking the question if he could.
Cas shifted the halo to his right hand, wielding it like a weapon. He twisted it, and the light it cast flickered over their bodies. Each turn brought it closer to Dean. Cas swept it toward Dean's abdomen as if it were a blade that he was about to drag across Dean's skin.
But he stopped just shy of touching the halo to Dean. Instead, he hovered it there a few inches away, letting the light fall on Dean's torso. The light seemed to penetrate his skin, his muscle, and his guts, warming him all the way down to his spine. He tried to arch up a little, to get closer, but a sharp glance from Cas warned him to stay still.
Slowly, Cas moved the halo back and forth across Dean's body, always staying just inches away. Wherever the halo went, Dean's skin warmed and crawled pleasantly as the fibers of his body aligned themselves to the migrating light like flowers toward the sun. Cas worked his way up. The halo buzzed over Dean's ribs and hovered over his nipples. It swirled its way down each arm in turn. It left a trail of sensation behind it, as if Cas were painting Dean's body in light.
Cas may have ordered Dean not to speak, but he hadn't said that Dean had to be completely silent. With that rationalization, Dean let a low hum of pleasure build in his throat. When Cas didn't object, he opened his mouth and let the hum grow into a soft moan.
"Feels good," Cas answered the noises Dean was making, and it was at once a question and an observation. Dean nodded happily as he remembered that everything he was feeling, Cas was feeling too. To touch Dean with his grace, Cas had to let Dean touch him. To touch Cas, Dean had to let himself be touched. It was a delicious push and pull that was dragging them both to the very edge.
Cas passed his halo over Dean's face, watching the way the light of it hit Dean's eyes. Then, capriciously, he guided it over Dean's head and held it there as if Dean were the angel. The little joke brought simultaneous smiles to their faces.
Back down went the halo, back over Dean's shoulders, his chest, his ribs, his belly, never quite touching, and by now Dean was primed and trembling. He teetered on the brink, knowing that the barest touch would send him over the edge. Pleas rose up in his throat, but he turned them into desperate grunts and groans. Cas looked pleased by Dean's frustration, the bastard.
But he didn't tease for too much longer. When the halo reached the lowest point of Dean's abdomen, it continued downward to circle around his throbbing erection. Pre-cum beaded at the tip again and again, dripping down to slick the whole head of it, as Cas circled the halo around its length. Dean's groans grew so loud that they were more like pained shouts. Just when he was about to give in and scream at Cas to please, please finish it, because he couldn't take any more, Cas gently touched the edge of the halo to the apex of Dean's cock.
Dean came with his whole body. Each pulse of his cock sent a spasm up his spine and down his legs, making him kick and writhe, his hands yanking futilely at the sheets. Cas's halo stayed pressed to his cock even as it was soaked in spurts of come, still invading Dean's body with its light. His skin crackled with the energy of it. And though his chest squeezed his lungs again and again, forcing out ecstatic screams, he wasn't worried about disobeying Cas's order because he was sure that he had lost all ability to form words.
Cas left the halo where it was long after the contractions of Dean's cock stopped producing anything more than weak dribbles of come, long after Dean's wild moans had turned to helpless whimpers. By the time he removed the halo from Dean's sore and spent cock, wiped it off, and returned it to his head, Dean was curled in on himself and gasping as he tried to stay conscious through the last waves of his orgasm.
Cas stroked Dean's hair lightly as he waited for Dean to come back to himself. "My love, my only," Dean thought he heard him say - little words that Cas only dared to use when Dean was too far gone to object to the sappiness of them.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked when Dean's breathing had evened out and his eyes had become alert again.
Dean flashed his eyebrows cheekily, keeping his mouth closed.
Cas gave a faint smile. "You may speak now," he said.
"I'm fucking awesome," Dean said immediately, "You evil son of a bitch."
"I take it that was meant as a compliment," said Cas.
"Damn right," Dean replied. Then he nodded toward Cas's cock, still standing thick and hard. "Want me to take care of that for you?"
"Please," said Cas as he laid himself back and let Dean crouch between his legs.
Dean could tell that Cas was already close. His cock pulsed in Dean's mouth as Dean worked his tongue and lips around the groove of the head before sliding down deeper, pushing it into the back of his throat.
"Yes, yes, yes," Cas muttered over and over as his hips rose off the bed, "So close…"
When Dean suddenly pulled off, Cas looked like he was seriously considering grabbing him by the hair and forcing him back down. But before he could Dean spoke, quickly, almost worried that he wouldn't be able to get the words out if he didn't say them right away.
"Hey, uh," he stammered, "You know… I love you. Right?"
The annoyance melted out of Cas's face, but the frustration stayed evident in his voice when he answered, "I love you too. Now Dean, please…"
"Okay, okay," Dean chuckled embarrassedly as he ducked back down to finish Cas off.
This wasn't the last time they would pervert that halo. Dean would make sure of that.
For angel-kink, who is single-handedly trying to become the godmother of all Dean/Cas halo-kink porn.
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Dean discovered Cas's wings by accident.
It wasn't as if he could see them, even though he sort of knew they were there, so he could be forgiven for not making the connection the first time he grazed his fingernails down Cas's shoulder blades in bed and Cas arched his whole body, his breath catching in his throat and his hands tightening almost painfully on Dean's hips. After all, maybe Cas just really liked having his back scratched.
But eventually Cas had to explain that when Dean touched him in that way, he was putting his hands into the space Cas's wings would occupy if they existed on this plane of reality.
"And you can feel that?" Dean asked.
"Not usually," said Cas, "Not with most people. But it seems that the bond we share is allowing you to interact with my grace in ways that I did not anticipate."
Dean grinned. "Kinky," he said, "Can I see them?"
Cas seemed startled at the request, but he complied, letting his wings pour out of shoulders in matching cascades of disheveled, glossy, black feathers. Soon, seeing progressed to touching progressed to pulling and stroking roughly as they fucked on every surface in the motel room progressed to gently grooming while they both lazed about in the afterglow.
The wings became a staple of their sexual repertoire, and Dean couldn't have been happier about it.
So a week or so later when Dean first rested his hand on the top of Cas's head while Cas was blowing him, and Cas reacted by going slack-jawed and almost whimpering out a moan, Dean was aware enough not to assume that maybe Cas just really liked having his hair played with.
"What was that?" Dean asked, low and seductive. He tried digging his fingers into Cas's scalp, but it didn't have quite the same effect. He couldn't get Cas to writhe and moan the way he had before until he hovered his hand a few inches about Cas's head, flexing his fingers in the empty air. "There it is," he said as Cas buckled, clinging to Dean's legs to keep himself upright, "Don't tell me you have wings on your head, too."
"Don't be ridiculous," Cas rasped, and Dean fought the urge to point out that most people had much lower thresholds of ridiculous. "It's just my halo."
Dean was so delightfully surprised that he dropped his hand away from Cas's head, and Cas was able to catch his breath and stand. He pressed Dean against the wall where he was leaning, trying to distract from the interruption by rutting his naked body against Dean's, but Dean was far too intrigued to just let the topic drop. "You have a halo?" Dean said.
"Of course I do," said Cas, pulling away from Dean and sitting on the bed as he realized that Dean was going to insist on more explanation. He flexed his neck and shoulders like a ruffled bird trying to maintain his composure. "I'm an angel. What did you expect?"
"I dunno," said Dean, joining Cas on the bed. He almost sat chastely beside Cas, but then he thought better of it at the last minute and knelt to straddle Cas's lap instead. No need to kill the mood completely. "If it's there, then why couldn't I see it in the barn, when you first showed me your wings?"
Cas looked scandalized, protesting, "We'd only just met!" But he brought his hands up to Dean's hips, pulling him closer, anyway.
Dean clapped a hand to Cas's shoulder to keep himself upright as he laughed. Something about the fact that angels could be prudish about their halos was hilarious to him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he chuckled, bringing his laughter under control when he noticed Cas starting to look annoyed, "So, is it part of your grace? Like your wings?"
"I suppose it's similar in some ways," Cas said vaguely.
"Fine, be all cryptic like that," said Dean. He slowly brought his hand up above Cas's head, stopping just shy of where he now knew the halo rested. "Can I?"
Cas flinched away at first, but then he nodded. This time, when Dean's hand entered that space, making Cas melt into Dean's arms and breathe shallowly against his neck, Dean thought he could feel the hairs of his hand standing on end as if the air were electrified.
"Let me see it," Dean requested, and even though Cas was busy coming undone against him he rallied his faculties enough to answer.
"Like my wings?"
"Exactly."
Cas gasped as Dean twisted his hand through his halo wickedly. "Is it your intent to find a way to pervert all of my angelic features?" he asked, not sounding too bothered by it.
"I wasn't planning on it or anything," Dean chuckled, "But it doesn't sound like a bad idea. Why, do you have more? A harp? Your sword? Ooh, I can think of perverted things to do with your sword!"
"You are incorrigible," Cas said.
"I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a compliment," said Dean as he curled his hand into a fist and then, slowly, spread his fingers out flat to touch the whole circumference of where Cas's halo ought to be. Cas shivered violently against him. "So are you gonna let me see it or not?"
Before answering, Cas grabbed Dean's wrist to pull his hand away from his head. Once he had caught his breath for a second time, he regarded Dean seriously, pondering. Then he pushed Dean off his lap so that they were sitting side by side. "Close your eyes," he ordered.
Dean's face fell. "Shit, is it going to burn my eyes out?" he said, "Because if it is, I take it back. I don't need to see it."
"I don't believe it will harm you," Cas assured him, "I'm just trying to be cautious. My halo is a much purer manifestation of my grace than my wings. I honestly don't know what effect it will have on you."
Dean thought about that for a moment, then took a deep breath and screwed his eyes shut, covering them with both hands. "Hit me," he said.
After a moment of confused silence, Cas began to ask, "Why do you want me to hit…"
"I mean do it!" Dean interrupted, "Go! Flame on!"
There was no blinding flash of light, no scorching heat. Dean simply became aware of a dull glow seeping through his fingers and under his eyelids, and of a strange sort of resonance in the air that hadn't been there before. He could feel his skin tingling, the sensation becoming stronger the closer he was to Cas. He could feel it on his face and the backs of his hands the most, on his back and feet the least. It was as if wherever the light of Cas's halo hit him, his skin responded.
"Dean?" Cas said.
"I'm okay," Dean assured him, "Can I open my eyes?"
"Yes," Cas said hesitantly, "It doesn't seem to be hurting you. Just be careful."
Dean was careful. First he took his hands away from his eyes, but all that happened was that the light shining through his eyelids became somewhat brighter and the soft tingling sensation spread across his whole face. He opened his eyes a crack, then wider, keeping them turned downwards, taking in the light only as it illuminated the bedspread.
Then, when it became clear that his eyes weren't about to burn out, he allowed himself to look directly at it.
He had expected it to make Cas look cute. He had expected a cherubic little accessory, a golden ring, maybe cocked to one side like a puppy with one floppy ear. Instead, Cas's halo reminded Dean of why, in the Bible, when men looked on angels for the first time, they tended to cower and worship. It was just a simple ring of metallic luminousness hanging in the air above and slightly behind his head, but it gave off that strange light so full of warmth and power, etching Cas's features in lines of shadow and making him look at once beautiful and monstrous.
But his voice was the same, and it snapped Dean out of his awed reverie when it said, "Are you alright?"
Dean swallowed hard before answering, "Yeah. Fine. That's, uh… that's really something."
"Thank you," said Cas, his not-quite-a-smile giving Dean the impression that he knew what an understatement Dean had just committed.
Dean reached out to touch Cas's face almost on instinct, as if to remind himself that this was still his own Cas even though he sat shrouded in heavenly light. But as soon as his hand rose, the waves of sensation radiating off the halo increased until his entire arm was shaking. He only managed to still himself when he rested his hand on Cas's cheek. "I can feel it," he said breathlessly, "Just from being close to it. Feels weird. Can I touch it?"
Cas leaned his face against Dean's hand and said ominously, "You can try."
"What does that mean?" said Dean, drawing his hand away a fraction of an inch.
"Touching it physically may prove to be very… intense," Cas explained.
"On a scale of touched-a-doorknob-after-shuffling-on-carpet-with-socks-on," said Dean, "To oh-god-oh-god-I'm-on-fire… How intense?"
"I honestly don't know," Cas admitted.
For some reason, the fact that Cas was just as clueless as Dean was kind of comforting. They may have been in uncharted territory, but at least they were there together. "Okay," said Dean, "Here goes."
He kept himself grounded against Cas's skin, sliding his hand slowly upwards. The closer he got to the ring of light, the harder the effects hit him. The vibration wasn't just in his skin anymore; it was in his bones, rattling them, making the joints buzz and the muscles around go slack. And it was more than physical. As his fingers drew so close that a good sneeze would have closed the gap, he thought he could feel the presence of something unknowable and terrifying and glorious.
His breathing was shallow and ragged, his skin slick with sweat, and he hesitated there as he wondered what would happen to him if he let his fingers fall through those last few inches of empty air.
"Dean," Cas whispered, and it was only then that Dean noticed that Cas was coming just as undone as Dean was. He sat hunched, his hands in his lap, trembling with the effort not to move, not to lean forward and close the gap himself.
And that was when Dean finally made the decision. "I'm gonna…" he murmured, twitching his fingers closer. They shivered in unison as the tension between hand and halo intensified.
"Do it," Cas commanded.
Dean screwed up his courage and closed his hand around the bright circle, and that was when everything went white.
It burned. Not just in his hand where it made contact with the circle of light, but radiating down his arm and into his chest, into every corner of him, into places he didn't know he had, into his very soul. His body shook from the spasms of his own muscles as well as from the vibration of the halo, which seemed to have found the perfect resonance to make Dean's flesh sing. He felt as if he should shake apart, but he held on for one second, and then two, and because he somehow remained whole he kept hanging on and letting the waves of sensation wash over him.
He could feel his heartbeat against his ribs. It pulsed in his fingertips and in his toes, his blood rushing so fast that he felt close to bursting. And, as he tightened his grip, he felt it in his cock as it hardened so rapidly that it bordered on painful.
He had fallen against Cas, or maybe Cas had fallen against him. He couldn't tell which of them was clinging to the other, which was holding the other up. All he knew was that they were both gasping, their lips brushing together as they fought for the same air. Cas was grinding up into him, or maybe he was grinding down onto Cas, or maybe it didn't matter because they were both achingly hard and neither was going to last long like this.
Dean let go. As if released from an electric shock, they both fell backwards, jerking and groaning as the current left their bodies.
"What the fuck was that?" said Dean hoarsely, "Not that I'm complaining, but… what the fuck was that?"
Cas sat up slowly. Even panting and sweating, his eyes languid with lust, the light falling on him from his halo made him look otherworldly. "I don't know," he said, "But I would like to do it again, please."
"Um, yeah," Dean laughed breathlessly, "Agreed." He started to reach forward.
But before Dean could make contact again, Cas lowered his eyes and added, "But this time, Dean? Hold me down."
The request made Dean smile. Cas liked letting Dean take control almost as much as Dean liked letting Cas take control. But Cas had asked first, and Dean wasn't about to get bratty about it. "You got it, babe," he said as he pushed Cas flat on his back, pinning him by straddling his pelvis and pressing a hand to his chest.
As Dean hovered his right hand in the bloom of light around Cas's halo, Cas steadied himself by wrapping his hands around Dean's left arm where it was planted against Cas's chest. He was gasping and moaning again even before Dean let his fingers slide gently along the inner curve of the halo.
The effect on Dean was the same - his blood racing and his bones humming - but he worked hard to push it aside and not let it show on his face. He had to focus. This was about Cas right now, and Dean had to keep perfect control so that Cas could be free to lose it. And sure enough, Cas was losing control. His eyes were slammed shut and his mouth gaping wide as his chest fluttered under the pressure of Dean's hand. Cas's grip tightened on Dean's arm, twisting and digging in with his fingers.
When Cas began tilting his head, trying to chase the touch of Dean's fingers on his halo, Dean shifted his left hand from Cas's chest to his throat. He rested it there lightly, putting just enough pressure to make his point. His thumb and first finger slid up to touch either side of Cas's jaw and hold him still. "Don't move," Dean ordered, surprising himself with the note of danger in his own voice.
"Yes," Cas whispered. Not even his lips moved when he spoke.
This time Dean didn't tease. He grabbed Cas's halo, white-knuckled, and began roughly sliding his fist back and forth around its circumference. Dean's vision swam, and this time he couldn't stop himself from buckling forward with a groan as his cock twitched and leaked pre-cum.
Cas tried valiantly to follow orders and stay still, but within seconds he was trembling and bucking up against Dean involuntarily, rattling out a long, unbroken moan. Dean shifted himself forward so that he was sitting on Cas's stomach, and hooked his feet backwards over the tops of Cas's thighs, effectively pinning Cas's hips to the bed and leaving him nothing to rut against for relief. Cas's moaning took on a desperate note.
Still Dean held on, even after the resonance that the halo was sending through his body became overwhelming. Pleasure bordered on pain, like being jacked off again too soon after an orgasm. Dean breathed through his teeth, willing himself to stay focused, to not let go.
"Too much," Cas stammered out as he felt the same overstimulation, "Too much! Let go!"
Dean only tightened his grip and swallowed down a groan. "No," he said roughly, "If I can take it, then so can you."
With a whimper, Cas lay back and surrendered to it. Dean studied his face. Yes, there were reserves of endurance left in them both. Just a little longer. And a little longer still. If Cas really wanted Dean to stop, then he had his safeword. And if he really, really wanted Dean to stop, he had more than enough strength to throw Dean through the wall and into the next county.
Dean held on, letting the intensity build past eroticism and into a sweet sort of torment, and only let go when he was sure that he was about to break apart.
Dean collapsed. With his face nestled in the crook of Cas's neck, both their chests heaving, all their limbs twitching, he gave them time to recover just a bit. But only just a bit. His body was still raw and oversensitive when he sat up slightly and cupped Cas's face in his hands.
"Okay?" he asked.
Cas looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Perfect," he breathed.
Dean put on a wicked smile. "Then let's keep going."
He grabbed both of Cas's wrists. His right hand was somewhat weaker from the aftereffects of touching the halo for so long, but he managed to press Cas's arms against the bed so that his upper body was spread out, an easy target for Dean's lips and teeth. Before, he might have gone for Cas's mouth or nipple or collarbone. Now, he couldn't resist leaning all the way forward and running his tongue against the edge of Cas's halo.
And, fuck, that had been a bad idea. Dean's entire head was ringing and he felt like his teeth were about to vibrate right out of his skull, but it was worth it for the way Cas arched up with a deep-throated scream.
"Ah, ah!" Dean groaned weakly as he rolled off Cas, "Okay. Need a minute here." He held his face in his hands, trying to make his jaw stop throbbing.
Cas, even though he had been sprawled in a quivering heap a moment ago, recovered first. Fucking angels and their fucking stamina. He rolled over to where Dean was lying and nudged Dean's ear with his nose. The motion brought the halo close enough to Dean's head that Dean had to flinch away with a growl.
"More?" Cas requested in a dreamy voice.
"Fuck off," Dean replied, laughing helplessly, "You had your fun. It's my turn." He flopped flat on his back, every limb relaxed, making it clear that if anyone was going to do anything to anyone, Cas would be doing it to Dean and not the other way around.
Cas took the hint. "Is that how you want it?" he said, his voice instantly changing from pleading to commanding. Like sense memory, the tone went straight to Dean's cock.
"I want it any way you give it to me," Dean replied automatically. He could already feel the halo's effects diminishing as he relaxed his body, resetting it for another round, subconsciously steeling it for whatever Cas had planned.
Cas straddled Dean's supine form. From below, Dean could see the way the halo illuminated every line of his face, every curve of his torso, every groove between the muscles of his arms and legs. The light shined on him from without, but it also seemed to make him glow from within. Dean reached up with two fingers and reverently slid them down the ridges of Cas's abs, dipping alternately into light and shadow.
"I like you from this angle," he said with a grin.
Cas looked down on him like a hawk might look down at a mouse. "Don't speak, except to use your safeword," he ordered. Dean shut his mouth.
Dean watched, uncomprehending, as Cas reached up with both hands and took his halo between his thumbs and fingers as if he were adjusting a hat. He wiggled it this way and that, twisting it and pulling it, until it finally came away in his hands. He brought it down to chest level. Now his face was lit from below, giving his divine image a hint of the macabre.
"It's detachable?" Dean wanted to say, but he remembered his orders and held his tongue. That was probably why Cas had told him to shut up in the first place: he didn't want Dean interrupting him by demanding to know how halos worked. So Dean just smiled coyly, letting Cas know that he'd be asking the question if he could.
Cas shifted the halo to his right hand, wielding it like a weapon. He twisted it, and the light it cast flickered over their bodies. Each turn brought it closer to Dean. Cas swept it toward Dean's abdomen as if it were a blade that he was about to drag across Dean's skin.
But he stopped just shy of touching the halo to Dean. Instead, he hovered it there a few inches away, letting the light fall on Dean's torso. The light seemed to penetrate his skin, his muscle, and his guts, warming him all the way down to his spine. He tried to arch up a little, to get closer, but a sharp glance from Cas warned him to stay still.
Slowly, Cas moved the halo back and forth across Dean's body, always staying just inches away. Wherever the halo went, Dean's skin warmed and crawled pleasantly as the fibers of his body aligned themselves to the migrating light like flowers toward the sun. Cas worked his way up. The halo buzzed over Dean's ribs and hovered over his nipples. It swirled its way down each arm in turn. It left a trail of sensation behind it, as if Cas were painting Dean's body in light.
Cas may have ordered Dean not to speak, but he hadn't said that Dean had to be completely silent. With that rationalization, Dean let a low hum of pleasure build in his throat. When Cas didn't object, he opened his mouth and let the hum grow into a soft moan.
"Feels good," Cas answered the noises Dean was making, and it was at once a question and an observation. Dean nodded happily as he remembered that everything he was feeling, Cas was feeling too. To touch Dean with his grace, Cas had to let Dean touch him. To touch Cas, Dean had to let himself be touched. It was a delicious push and pull that was dragging them both to the very edge.
Cas passed his halo over Dean's face, watching the way the light of it hit Dean's eyes. Then, capriciously, he guided it over Dean's head and held it there as if Dean were the angel. The little joke brought simultaneous smiles to their faces.
Back down went the halo, back over Dean's shoulders, his chest, his ribs, his belly, never quite touching, and by now Dean was primed and trembling. He teetered on the brink, knowing that the barest touch would send him over the edge. Pleas rose up in his throat, but he turned them into desperate grunts and groans. Cas looked pleased by Dean's frustration, the bastard.
But he didn't tease for too much longer. When the halo reached the lowest point of Dean's abdomen, it continued downward to circle around his throbbing erection. Pre-cum beaded at the tip again and again, dripping down to slick the whole head of it, as Cas circled the halo around its length. Dean's groans grew so loud that they were more like pained shouts. Just when he was about to give in and scream at Cas to please, please finish it, because he couldn't take any more, Cas gently touched the edge of the halo to the apex of Dean's cock.
Dean came with his whole body. Each pulse of his cock sent a spasm up his spine and down his legs, making him kick and writhe, his hands yanking futilely at the sheets. Cas's halo stayed pressed to his cock even as it was soaked in spurts of come, still invading Dean's body with its light. His skin crackled with the energy of it. And though his chest squeezed his lungs again and again, forcing out ecstatic screams, he wasn't worried about disobeying Cas's order because he was sure that he had lost all ability to form words.
Cas left the halo where it was long after the contractions of Dean's cock stopped producing anything more than weak dribbles of come, long after Dean's wild moans had turned to helpless whimpers. By the time he removed the halo from Dean's sore and spent cock, wiped it off, and returned it to his head, Dean was curled in on himself and gasping as he tried to stay conscious through the last waves of his orgasm.
Cas stroked Dean's hair lightly as he waited for Dean to come back to himself. "My love, my only," Dean thought he heard him say - little words that Cas only dared to use when Dean was too far gone to object to the sappiness of them.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked when Dean's breathing had evened out and his eyes had become alert again.
Dean flashed his eyebrows cheekily, keeping his mouth closed.
Cas gave a faint smile. "You may speak now," he said.
"I'm fucking awesome," Dean said immediately, "You evil son of a bitch."
"I take it that was meant as a compliment," said Cas.
"Damn right," Dean replied. Then he nodded toward Cas's cock, still standing thick and hard. "Want me to take care of that for you?"
"Please," said Cas as he laid himself back and let Dean crouch between his legs.
Dean could tell that Cas was already close. His cock pulsed in Dean's mouth as Dean worked his tongue and lips around the groove of the head before sliding down deeper, pushing it into the back of his throat.
"Yes, yes, yes," Cas muttered over and over as his hips rose off the bed, "So close…"
When Dean suddenly pulled off, Cas looked like he was seriously considering grabbing him by the hair and forcing him back down. But before he could Dean spoke, quickly, almost worried that he wouldn't be able to get the words out if he didn't say them right away.
"Hey, uh," he stammered, "You know… I love you. Right?"
The annoyance melted out of Cas's face, but the frustration stayed evident in his voice when he answered, "I love you too. Now Dean, please…"
"Okay, okay," Dean chuckled embarrassedly as he ducked back down to finish Cas off.
This wasn't the last time they would pervert that halo. Dean would make sure of that.