Fic: Free with his Hands
Title: Free with his Hands
Author: Watermaline
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For summersiren's request on the Dean/Castiel Kink meme.
The first time it happens, Dean chalks it up to…well, he doesn’t chalk it up to anything, he’s too busy coming his brains out in his jeans with Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and Sam on the other bed and trying not to let it show on his face. Luckily for him, Sam is on his laptop and Castiel just does his headtilt.
The second time, Sam’s in the library and Dean and Castiel are alone, after narrowly escaping notice by an angel Castiel identified as Raziel. “I’m sorry,” Dean hears himself say, and Castiel just sort of stares at him.
“What are you sorry for, Dean?”
“For, you know, convincing you that I’m right. I mean, you can’t go home anymore, or be with your family-”
“Doing what is right, at your side, is enough.” And Castiel rests his palm on Dean’s shoulder, right over the mark he left, and Dean’s flushed and hot and hard and coming in less than a second, and his cock twitches in the mess in his jeans. “Uh…bathroom,” he mutters, and he’s across the room and into the shower before Castiel can say-or touch-anything else.
The third time is in the middle of a hunt, and Castiel grabs Dean by the shoulder to prevent acid from splashing on him, and as glad as Dean would be normally to not look like a full-body version of Two-Face, the orgasm hits him so hard his knees buckle, so he ends up in Castiel’s arms and Cas’s hand is still on his shoulder, and fucking squeezes, and Dean comes again, but Castiel has to drop him then to exorcise the incoming demon, and Dean watches Castiel and Sam wrap up the fight while he recovers from the aftershocks. When Sam asks what the hell happened, Dean pulls some bullshit about how the demon hit him with a spell that hurt like a bitch as a distraction, and Sam totally buys this for some reason, so Dean can slink off to the bathroom unnoticed. This is getting really bad. Maybe an inability to control himself is punishment for lusting after an angel.
The fourth time, they’re in a goddamned diner with glittery red vinyl booths and a jukebox and cute outfits on the waitresses, and Dean has just taken a huge bite of a bacon cheeseburger when Castiel touches his shoulder and Dean’s got beef and cheese and bacon caught in his throat and almost chokes until he hocks the entire mouthful onto the table, and Sam is so grossed out he doesn’t bother to ask why Dean’s whole body jerked before he started choking. And that’s for the best; my angel made me come is not something Dean is prepared to say out loud.
The fifth time, Castiel is waking him up and he’s gone from dreamland to paradise in a hot second, getting himself all sticky, and Sam snickers about Dean having wet dreams at his age, and Dean just sucks it up and goes to shower. He likes his orgasms as much as the next guy (if not more so), but this is starting to get ri-fucking-diculous. Castiel’s an angel; he’s never heard an angel’s touch being associated with this kind of ecstasy, and well, Dean’s already been to Hell once, got a second ticket for checking out his mom, and he’s sure they’ve got special box seats for being so into your angel that you start getting off from his hand on your rescue tattoo.
The sixth time, Dean almost crashes the Impala. Sam’s in the front seat being emo about…well, something. Dean’s not sure, and Sam’s not talking. Then all of a sudden Castiel is touching his shoulder and he’s coming like he just paid someone an ungodly amount of money to worship his dick and the road whites out and the only thing that prevents them from smashing into the divider at eighty five miles an hour is Sam sitting up and grabbing the wheel. Sam makes him pull over and switch spots, and then Dean’s stuck in the passenger’s side brooding. (Technically, he’s sulking, but brooding sounds manlier.)
Fuck this, Dean decides. Apparently Castiel thinks the only place that Dean allows physical contact is Castiel’s mark, and as Dean has no intention of explaining why that particular place is off limits, he decides that there isn’t going to be any physical contact between them at all. There can’t be; thanks to the connection his body has made to Castiel touching the mark, Castiel so much as reaching towards him makes him get an erection, and that’s just as awkward. So he leans out of Castiel’s reach while driving, sits next to Sam when they eat out, and any time he and Castiel are alone (which is suspiciously often, what is Sam doing? Dean knows he’s not getting laid), he keeps distance between himself and the angel. This works for about a week and a half, then Sam goes to go laundry (Dean finally won rock-paper-scissors) and he’s stuck with Castiel, the rain, and the static on the television. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” Castiel wanders over from the window and sits next to him on the bed, with his usual lack of respect for personal space. And, damn it, why did his only clean shirt have no sleeves? “Are you angry at me?” Oh, crap, Cas sounds like someone just smashed his Lego castle.
“No.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.” And, well, that’s true, he can’t really deny that, but what’s he gonna say? Uh, Cas, the problem is that every time you touch me on the shoulder I come like I haven’t for a year, and I can’t focus because every time you move your hand towards me I get a hard-on. And now there’s nothing between you, me, and me creaming my jeans. Again. Yeah. Uh-uh. So, he lies. “No I haven’t.”
“Dean-”
Oh crap, Cas is gonna touch him and his cock is already perking up at the idea, swelling a little and brushing against the cotton of his underwear. Dean jerks away from him, and Cas now has the wounded face on-it only lasts for a second, but Dean feels like a jackass. Cas doesn’t deserve to feel like crap just because Dean’s a perv. And, well, Dean hates Castiel’s wounded face just on principle.
“Cas, dude, look, it’s not you. I mean, it is, but it’s not your fault.” And now Castiel just looks baffled. Better than wounded, at least. “You keep fucking touching this-” Dean gestures to the handprint on his bare shoulder, “-and every time you do I have a frickin’ orgasm. It’s a little weird, okay?”
“…are you that sensitive to the connection? I just thought it would relax you, give you some peace.” Hold the goddamn motherfucking phone. Cas had been doing it on purpose? Son of a bitch. “Cas, what’re you talking about?”
“That mark is the place where I pulled you from Hell; the connection it represents is very powerful. I wasn’t aware that it would manifest in that way. I apologize if I embarrassed you.” Dean sighs; well, that could have been way more awkw-holygodyessssthatfeelssofuckinggood! Dean found himself gasping for breath and staring up at the ceiling. “Cas! What the hell?”
“I’m trying to desensitize you. So that if I touch you accidently you aren’t incapacitated.” Dean barely has time to wriggle out of his jeans before Castiel squeezes and the orgasm is dry this time, his hips bucking into the air as he fists the sheets. And the whole ‘desensitize’ thing must be bullshit, the son of a bitch barely gives him time to recover before doing it again. And again, and again and again and Dean is pretty damn sure he’s two neurons away from completely frying his brain when a voice he can’t believe is his starts begging. “Cas…stop…fuck…I can’t take anymore.” Dean peeks up at him; Castiel looks a little hazy. “Cas?” The angel runs one finger over the handprint, slow going over each finger and circling the palm and Dean sobs as his body tingles and twitches. He doesn’t come again, but his entire body sings and twinges with the pleasure of it. He’s so loose Dean thinks Castiel could slick up and fuck him, and he’d slide in and Dean’d just have to take it and take it- “Cas!”
“I’m sorry, Dean…I…” With what’s left of his brain, Dean realizes that Castiel is hard, his cock tenting his pants obscenely, and with what little power he has left, Dean pushes himself up and cups his hand around the angel’s erection. Castiel groans, and presses down, forgetting where his hand is. Dean whites out, and comes back to himself to see Castiel, minus his coat and jacket. Sam hasn’t come back yet, thank god (wherever the bastard is). He isn’t sticky; Castiel must have cleaned him up. The angel glances at him, leaning forward. “Are you all right?”
“I just came six times. I’m good.” Dean sits up, grinning. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get able to get it up for the next week or so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Dean can’t help but watch Castiel’s mouth; lower lip ever so slightly pulled in, and remembers the weight and heat of Castiel’s cock against his hand. “I don’t think that ‘desensitize’ thing worked too well Cas.”
“No. I guess not.” Dean can sense Cas’ body tensing, like he’s going to stand and walk away. And, damn, he doesn’t want that. He grabs Castiel’s wrist, pulling his fingers and letting them brush over the marks they had made. “Dean-”
Dean lets out a breath, heavy with a shudder on the end. “Feels good, Cas. Just don’t press down. Maybe we can drag this out longer.” He pulls Castiel in for a kiss, catching that worried lower lip in his teeth, ‘cause damn, he wants to drive Cas crazy, and it is so payback for every shudder, every flush, for every moment of shame and arousal when he felt come running down his thigh. Dean feels Castiel running his hand over the mark one more time; Dean’s cock twitches, and Castiel kisses back, gripping the back of Dean’s neck. Dean pushes into the kiss, starts sucking at Castiel’s tongue.
Fuck, it’s hot, Cas seems to have a vague idea what he’s doing, but when Dean sucks harder, his hands are moving all over Dean’s back, clutching as Dean moves to bite just under Cas’ jaw, pulling at the skin, hoping that Cas will let the mark stay. He hears Castiel hiss out his name, and he bites down his neck, tasting, half expecting Cas to taste fresh and sweet and inhuman, but he tastes like skin and a tiny bit of salt. Dean yanks at the ever present white shirt, and when he half-drags, half-rakes his nails down Castiel’s chest, he feels him shiver, vibrating with tiny moans as Dean’s fingers reach his waistband.
“You hard again, Cas?” Castiel tries to bury his face into Dean’s shoulder; Dean slides his hand down to squeeze Cas’ dick through his pants, and Cas shudders, breathing hot against Dean’s neck. “Feels good, right?” Dean starts massaging; keeping a hold on Castiel’s hip with his free hand as Castiel nods and groans and tries to get Dean to touch him more. “Feels good to me too, making you grind into my hand like that. You got hard without me even touching you, just touching me and watching me come. Fucking hot. You get off on making me squirm? You like being able to make me spread my legs and come all over myself?”
Castiel pulls back to look Dean in the face as Dean runs a finger down his zipper. “Yes,” he whispers. “Very much.” Dean squeezes; Castiel’s eyes flutter shut and Dean can’t help but steal a kiss from Cas’ open mouth.
“Fair’s fair, Cas. Quid pro quo and all that.” Dean gives Castiel a little more pressure, fingers lingering on the head that just might be wet inside Castiel’s pants, and then pulls his hand away. Castiel tries to drag his hand back, but Dean shakes his head, resting it on Castiel’s thigh. “You want more, Cas? You wanna know what it feels like when you come?” Castiel bites his lower lip again, nods. “Take it out, Cas. Let me see.”
And, oh, fuck yes, Castiel is blushing, it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there as the angel unzips and exposes his erection to the air. “Lie down.” Castiel does, shuffling over as the sheets rustle underneath him, and spreading his legs, leaving Dean enough space to crawl in between, and he does, swirling his tongue around the leaking head of Castiel’s dick without so much as a warning. The noise that Castiel makes goes to Dean’s cock like Cas is reciprocating, and he sucks hard, pulling more into his mouth as he tongues the underside. Cas doesn’t know what to do with his hands, Dean can tell, and is grabbing and yanking and stretching the sheets in his fists as Dean swallows him. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but Cas tastes good, just a little bitter, and makes noises like he’s trapped and all he can remember is how to beg-and Dean’s name.
“Dean-please-yes. I don’t…oh…more please Dean don’t stop-” Dean dares the universe to find anything hotter than an angel begging to have his dick sucked, and manages to get all of Castiel into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Castiel makes a sound like Dean's sucking out his soul, high pitched and desperate and keening. One of Cas’ hands has found its way to Dean’s shoulder, pressing down, and Dean whimpers around Castiel’s cock, feeling it shudder in his mouth. “Dean, I…I can’t-Dean-!” Dean glances up; Cas has his mouth open, eyes at half-mast, chest heaving and tensing at the impending orgasm. He wants to see Castiel come, and not from down here. He pulls off with a wet pop, wrapping his fist around Cas’ dick, jerking hard and fast. “Let me see you come, Cas, show me, come on!” The words escape him in a growl, an order that pushes Castiel over the edge with Dean’s name bursting from his lips, spurting over Dean’s hand and Cas’ stomach, a few drops hitting Dean’s neck. Cas whimpers and sighs as Dean massages every drop out of him, and finally lets go. Dean lies down next to him; Castiel presses a kiss to Dean’s collarbone. “Good?” Dean can’t resist asking, smirking. Castiel only nods, though, and nestles closer to him. “Let’s make a deal, Cas.”
“Yes?”
“You can touch me in normal places in public. No shoulder.”
Castiel somehow manages to sound amused, put out, and monotone all at once. “All right.”
“When we’re alone, you can touch wherever you want.” Castiel apparently takes this as permission to touch the mark again and Dean’s poor exhausted dick twitches and twinges at the feel. “Except there. Way too easy. If I have to do it the hard way, so do you.” Castiel, the cheating angelic too gorgeous for his own good bastard, runs his fingers over the mark and god damn it if Dean isn’t hard again. Castiel apparently wants to kill him. Then again, Dean thinks as Castiel kisses him, there are certainly worse ways to die, and not many better ways. Death by angel induced orgasm. So not the worst way to go.
For some reason this was hard to write, but I had fun. Hope everyone enjoyed it!
Author: Watermaline
Rating: NC-17
A/N: For summersiren's request on the Dean/Castiel Kink meme.
The first time it happens, Dean chalks it up to…well, he doesn’t chalk it up to anything, he’s too busy coming his brains out in his jeans with Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and Sam on the other bed and trying not to let it show on his face. Luckily for him, Sam is on his laptop and Castiel just does his headtilt.
The second time, Sam’s in the library and Dean and Castiel are alone, after narrowly escaping notice by an angel Castiel identified as Raziel. “I’m sorry,” Dean hears himself say, and Castiel just sort of stares at him.
“What are you sorry for, Dean?”
“For, you know, convincing you that I’m right. I mean, you can’t go home anymore, or be with your family-”
“Doing what is right, at your side, is enough.” And Castiel rests his palm on Dean’s shoulder, right over the mark he left, and Dean’s flushed and hot and hard and coming in less than a second, and his cock twitches in the mess in his jeans. “Uh…bathroom,” he mutters, and he’s across the room and into the shower before Castiel can say-or touch-anything else.
The third time is in the middle of a hunt, and Castiel grabs Dean by the shoulder to prevent acid from splashing on him, and as glad as Dean would be normally to not look like a full-body version of Two-Face, the orgasm hits him so hard his knees buckle, so he ends up in Castiel’s arms and Cas’s hand is still on his shoulder, and fucking squeezes, and Dean comes again, but Castiel has to drop him then to exorcise the incoming demon, and Dean watches Castiel and Sam wrap up the fight while he recovers from the aftershocks. When Sam asks what the hell happened, Dean pulls some bullshit about how the demon hit him with a spell that hurt like a bitch as a distraction, and Sam totally buys this for some reason, so Dean can slink off to the bathroom unnoticed. This is getting really bad. Maybe an inability to control himself is punishment for lusting after an angel.
The fourth time, they’re in a goddamned diner with glittery red vinyl booths and a jukebox and cute outfits on the waitresses, and Dean has just taken a huge bite of a bacon cheeseburger when Castiel touches his shoulder and Dean’s got beef and cheese and bacon caught in his throat and almost chokes until he hocks the entire mouthful onto the table, and Sam is so grossed out he doesn’t bother to ask why Dean’s whole body jerked before he started choking. And that’s for the best; my angel made me come is not something Dean is prepared to say out loud.
The fifth time, Castiel is waking him up and he’s gone from dreamland to paradise in a hot second, getting himself all sticky, and Sam snickers about Dean having wet dreams at his age, and Dean just sucks it up and goes to shower. He likes his orgasms as much as the next guy (if not more so), but this is starting to get ri-fucking-diculous. Castiel’s an angel; he’s never heard an angel’s touch being associated with this kind of ecstasy, and well, Dean’s already been to Hell once, got a second ticket for checking out his mom, and he’s sure they’ve got special box seats for being so into your angel that you start getting off from his hand on your rescue tattoo.
The sixth time, Dean almost crashes the Impala. Sam’s in the front seat being emo about…well, something. Dean’s not sure, and Sam’s not talking. Then all of a sudden Castiel is touching his shoulder and he’s coming like he just paid someone an ungodly amount of money to worship his dick and the road whites out and the only thing that prevents them from smashing into the divider at eighty five miles an hour is Sam sitting up and grabbing the wheel. Sam makes him pull over and switch spots, and then Dean’s stuck in the passenger’s side brooding. (Technically, he’s sulking, but brooding sounds manlier.)
Fuck this, Dean decides. Apparently Castiel thinks the only place that Dean allows physical contact is Castiel’s mark, and as Dean has no intention of explaining why that particular place is off limits, he decides that there isn’t going to be any physical contact between them at all. There can’t be; thanks to the connection his body has made to Castiel touching the mark, Castiel so much as reaching towards him makes him get an erection, and that’s just as awkward. So he leans out of Castiel’s reach while driving, sits next to Sam when they eat out, and any time he and Castiel are alone (which is suspiciously often, what is Sam doing? Dean knows he’s not getting laid), he keeps distance between himself and the angel. This works for about a week and a half, then Sam goes to go laundry (Dean finally won rock-paper-scissors) and he’s stuck with Castiel, the rain, and the static on the television. “Dean?”
“Yeah?” Castiel wanders over from the window and sits next to him on the bed, with his usual lack of respect for personal space. And, damn it, why did his only clean shirt have no sleeves? “Are you angry at me?” Oh, crap, Cas sounds like someone just smashed his Lego castle.
“No.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.” And, well, that’s true, he can’t really deny that, but what’s he gonna say? Uh, Cas, the problem is that every time you touch me on the shoulder I come like I haven’t for a year, and I can’t focus because every time you move your hand towards me I get a hard-on. And now there’s nothing between you, me, and me creaming my jeans. Again. Yeah. Uh-uh. So, he lies. “No I haven’t.”
“Dean-”
Oh crap, Cas is gonna touch him and his cock is already perking up at the idea, swelling a little and brushing against the cotton of his underwear. Dean jerks away from him, and Cas now has the wounded face on-it only lasts for a second, but Dean feels like a jackass. Cas doesn’t deserve to feel like crap just because Dean’s a perv. And, well, Dean hates Castiel’s wounded face just on principle.
“Cas, dude, look, it’s not you. I mean, it is, but it’s not your fault.” And now Castiel just looks baffled. Better than wounded, at least. “You keep fucking touching this-” Dean gestures to the handprint on his bare shoulder, “-and every time you do I have a frickin’ orgasm. It’s a little weird, okay?”
“…are you that sensitive to the connection? I just thought it would relax you, give you some peace.” Hold the goddamn motherfucking phone. Cas had been doing it on purpose? Son of a bitch. “Cas, what’re you talking about?”
“That mark is the place where I pulled you from Hell; the connection it represents is very powerful. I wasn’t aware that it would manifest in that way. I apologize if I embarrassed you.” Dean sighs; well, that could have been way more awkw-holygodyessssthatfeelssofuckinggood! Dean found himself gasping for breath and staring up at the ceiling. “Cas! What the hell?”
“I’m trying to desensitize you. So that if I touch you accidently you aren’t incapacitated.” Dean barely has time to wriggle out of his jeans before Castiel squeezes and the orgasm is dry this time, his hips bucking into the air as he fists the sheets. And the whole ‘desensitize’ thing must be bullshit, the son of a bitch barely gives him time to recover before doing it again. And again, and again and again and Dean is pretty damn sure he’s two neurons away from completely frying his brain when a voice he can’t believe is his starts begging. “Cas…stop…fuck…I can’t take anymore.” Dean peeks up at him; Castiel looks a little hazy. “Cas?” The angel runs one finger over the handprint, slow going over each finger and circling the palm and Dean sobs as his body tingles and twitches. He doesn’t come again, but his entire body sings and twinges with the pleasure of it. He’s so loose Dean thinks Castiel could slick up and fuck him, and he’d slide in and Dean’d just have to take it and take it- “Cas!”
“I’m sorry, Dean…I…” With what’s left of his brain, Dean realizes that Castiel is hard, his cock tenting his pants obscenely, and with what little power he has left, Dean pushes himself up and cups his hand around the angel’s erection. Castiel groans, and presses down, forgetting where his hand is. Dean whites out, and comes back to himself to see Castiel, minus his coat and jacket. Sam hasn’t come back yet, thank god (wherever the bastard is). He isn’t sticky; Castiel must have cleaned him up. The angel glances at him, leaning forward. “Are you all right?”
“I just came six times. I’m good.” Dean sits up, grinning. “Though I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get able to get it up for the next week or so.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” Dean can’t help but watch Castiel’s mouth; lower lip ever so slightly pulled in, and remembers the weight and heat of Castiel’s cock against his hand. “I don’t think that ‘desensitize’ thing worked too well Cas.”
“No. I guess not.” Dean can sense Cas’ body tensing, like he’s going to stand and walk away. And, damn, he doesn’t want that. He grabs Castiel’s wrist, pulling his fingers and letting them brush over the marks they had made. “Dean-”
Dean lets out a breath, heavy with a shudder on the end. “Feels good, Cas. Just don’t press down. Maybe we can drag this out longer.” He pulls Castiel in for a kiss, catching that worried lower lip in his teeth, ‘cause damn, he wants to drive Cas crazy, and it is so payback for every shudder, every flush, for every moment of shame and arousal when he felt come running down his thigh. Dean feels Castiel running his hand over the mark one more time; Dean’s cock twitches, and Castiel kisses back, gripping the back of Dean’s neck. Dean pushes into the kiss, starts sucking at Castiel’s tongue.
Fuck, it’s hot, Cas seems to have a vague idea what he’s doing, but when Dean sucks harder, his hands are moving all over Dean’s back, clutching as Dean moves to bite just under Cas’ jaw, pulling at the skin, hoping that Cas will let the mark stay. He hears Castiel hiss out his name, and he bites down his neck, tasting, half expecting Cas to taste fresh and sweet and inhuman, but he tastes like skin and a tiny bit of salt. Dean yanks at the ever present white shirt, and when he half-drags, half-rakes his nails down Castiel’s chest, he feels him shiver, vibrating with tiny moans as Dean’s fingers reach his waistband.
“You hard again, Cas?” Castiel tries to bury his face into Dean’s shoulder; Dean slides his hand down to squeeze Cas’ dick through his pants, and Cas shudders, breathing hot against Dean’s neck. “Feels good, right?” Dean starts massaging; keeping a hold on Castiel’s hip with his free hand as Castiel nods and groans and tries to get Dean to touch him more. “Feels good to me too, making you grind into my hand like that. You got hard without me even touching you, just touching me and watching me come. Fucking hot. You get off on making me squirm? You like being able to make me spread my legs and come all over myself?”
Castiel pulls back to look Dean in the face as Dean runs a finger down his zipper. “Yes,” he whispers. “Very much.” Dean squeezes; Castiel’s eyes flutter shut and Dean can’t help but steal a kiss from Cas’ open mouth.
“Fair’s fair, Cas. Quid pro quo and all that.” Dean gives Castiel a little more pressure, fingers lingering on the head that just might be wet inside Castiel’s pants, and then pulls his hand away. Castiel tries to drag his hand back, but Dean shakes his head, resting it on Castiel’s thigh. “You want more, Cas? You wanna know what it feels like when you come?” Castiel bites his lower lip again, nods. “Take it out, Cas. Let me see.”
And, oh, fuck yes, Castiel is blushing, it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there as the angel unzips and exposes his erection to the air. “Lie down.” Castiel does, shuffling over as the sheets rustle underneath him, and spreading his legs, leaving Dean enough space to crawl in between, and he does, swirling his tongue around the leaking head of Castiel’s dick without so much as a warning. The noise that Castiel makes goes to Dean’s cock like Cas is reciprocating, and he sucks hard, pulling more into his mouth as he tongues the underside. Cas doesn’t know what to do with his hands, Dean can tell, and is grabbing and yanking and stretching the sheets in his fists as Dean swallows him. It’s been a while since he’s done this, but Cas tastes good, just a little bitter, and makes noises like he’s trapped and all he can remember is how to beg-and Dean’s name.
“Dean-please-yes. I don’t…oh…more please Dean don’t stop-” Dean dares the universe to find anything hotter than an angel begging to have his dick sucked, and manages to get all of Castiel into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks. Castiel makes a sound like Dean's sucking out his soul, high pitched and desperate and keening. One of Cas’ hands has found its way to Dean’s shoulder, pressing down, and Dean whimpers around Castiel’s cock, feeling it shudder in his mouth. “Dean, I…I can’t-Dean-!” Dean glances up; Cas has his mouth open, eyes at half-mast, chest heaving and tensing at the impending orgasm. He wants to see Castiel come, and not from down here. He pulls off with a wet pop, wrapping his fist around Cas’ dick, jerking hard and fast. “Let me see you come, Cas, show me, come on!” The words escape him in a growl, an order that pushes Castiel over the edge with Dean’s name bursting from his lips, spurting over Dean’s hand and Cas’ stomach, a few drops hitting Dean’s neck. Cas whimpers and sighs as Dean massages every drop out of him, and finally lets go. Dean lies down next to him; Castiel presses a kiss to Dean’s collarbone. “Good?” Dean can’t resist asking, smirking. Castiel only nods, though, and nestles closer to him. “Let’s make a deal, Cas.”
“Yes?”
“You can touch me in normal places in public. No shoulder.”
Castiel somehow manages to sound amused, put out, and monotone all at once. “All right.”
“When we’re alone, you can touch wherever you want.” Castiel apparently takes this as permission to touch the mark again and Dean’s poor exhausted dick twitches and twinges at the feel. “Except there. Way too easy. If I have to do it the hard way, so do you.” Castiel, the cheating angelic too gorgeous for his own good bastard, runs his fingers over the mark and god damn it if Dean isn’t hard again. Castiel apparently wants to kill him. Then again, Dean thinks as Castiel kisses him, there are certainly worse ways to die, and not many better ways. Death by angel induced orgasm. So not the worst way to go.
For some reason this was hard to write, but I had fun. Hope everyone enjoyed it!