((Supernatural)) Not On My Watch
Title: Not On My Watch
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sexual content/oral sex/mild dubcon? (warning just to be on the safe side)
Spoilers: Takes place during "Free to be you and me"
Summary: Dean made a promise to Castiel, and he'll be damned if he's going to go back on it now.
Notes: Came up with this at 4 in the morning. So sue me. Also, it's probably been done before in one way or another, but I hope it's enjoyable none the less.
"I didn't think anyone could actually get rejected by a prostitute, Cas," Dean said as they ducked down an alley after fleeing security. He laughed, breathless and hearty. "Figures you'd be the one to pull it off."
"I apologize," Cas mumbled. The angel sounded embarrassed.
"Don't," said Dean, clapping a hand on Cas' shoulder as Cas adjusted his jacket and tie. "Man, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. I needed that." They stopped for a moment in the alley when they were sure they weren't being pursued for the moment.
Here they were, a hunter and a flummoxed angel, standing in a dark back alley behind a brothel: Castiel's face was red as ever and Dean just couldn't wipe away this stupid grin.
"Ah well, better luck next time, huh?" Dean asked.
"Perhaps it's better if there isn't a next time," said Cas. "This pursuit of sexual excitement does not seem worth all the trouble."
"Spoken like a true virgin," Dean chuckled with a smirk. Cas quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Forgive me, but I fail to see what would drive anyone to such things."
"Well it..." Dean shrugged. "It's sex, Cas. People just want it."
"It's physical pleasure. It can only be so fulfilling."
"Again, like a true virgin." Castiel huffed indignantly.
"It is an earthly, human pleasure. For a creature like me, that holds little value. I may look human in this form, Dean, but do not forget that I am truly a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial energy and intent."
Dean blinked.
"Multi-dimensional wave of what-the-fuck-ever, Cas. You don't know what you're missing."
"Maybe. But it's probably better that way."
"Better that..." He trailed off. "How long you been alive, Cas?"
"Eons."
"All that time not knowing what sex is like...What a...what an orgasm feels like?" Cas rolled his eyes.
"Dean-"
"No. No, you know what?" He stepped forward, and Cas reeled back against the chain link fence behind him when Dean grasped his belt.
"What are you-"
He could push Dean off. He could send him flying. But Dean's hands brushed against Castiel's groin in a way that made him just the tiniest bit... intrigued.
"I promised you, Cas," said Dean, his voice hushed and rough. His knuckles scraping against Castiel's zipper. "And dammit, I'm not going back on that now."
Cas watched him, feeling that he should stop it, feeling that this was forbidden or dirty or wrong, but doing nothing. Merely watching. Watching and waiting to see what Dean would do next. He felt himself responding to Dean's touch as Dean reached inside his pants, hand brushing against his growing arousal.
Dean drew him out, rubbing him briskly toward full erection, and Castiel's breath caught in his throat, coming out as a shaky gasp.
"Have you ever had anyone touch you there, Cas?" Dean asked him. Cas gave his head a ghost of a shake. Dean was staring at him intently, his gaze suddenly so erotic that Cas felt he should look away, but he couldn't. "Guess people aren't supposed to touch angels there, are they?"
Castiel was about to say something about how angels don't actually have genitals or sex in their true forms, that they did not copulate in the way humans did, that the only reason he was responding this way was because he was currently in a human body with a human sexual response mechanism to physical stimulation. But then Dean squeezed his hardening cock near the base and he couldn't get the words out, or even form a coherent thought on the matter.
He was breathing hard and fast all of a sudden, and Dean stopped, pulling back. He stared at the angel intently, and it was not the same look he'd had in his eyes a moment ago. It was different, softer, somehow. Concerned, even.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, suddenly sounding as if he was worried that he'd done something wrong, pushed too far too quickly. "Tell me you want me to stop, Cas, and I will."
Cas looked right back at him, tried to tell him yes, yes stop. This was wrong. This was at least fifty different kinds of wrong. But all that came out was a breathy, gruff, "No..."
Dean quirked his eyebrow, seemingly in some faint semblance of surprise, and he knelt down.
"Don't say I never did anything for you, Cas," he said, and he took Cas into his mouth.
Cas yelled.
Dean bolted upright again, and Cas immediately missed the contact of his mouth on his cock so achingly much he couldn't stand it. Dean's hand slapped over Castiel's mouth and he shushed.
"Keep it down," he commanded in a hushed tone. "I'd really like to not get caught if you don't mind.
Slowly, Cas nodded, and Dean removed his hand and leaned down again. Cas let his head fall back against the chain link fence with an audible rattle as Dean wrapped his lips around him one more time. A moan threatened to bubble up from Castiel's throat, but he caught it in time, swallowed it back down, didn't let it escape. Just as Dean had said. He gripped at the metal fencing behind him so tightly he thought it might cut into his flesh.
He could feel every little movement of Dean's tongue against his sensitive skin, every twitch of his lips around him, every light graze of his teeth, every squeeze of his fingers as his hand followed the path of his mouth, up and down. It was so human, so carnal, so wrapped up in flesh and blood and earth and bone and so foreign to Castiel that he couldn't get his thoughts in order. It was so different it was almost frightening, but so ludicrously amazing that all he wanted to do was shout his new-found ecstasy to the cool night skies.
Something built up within him, and he bucked his hips, though he didn't mean to. His hand found its way to Dean's scalp, his fingers running through Dean's hair. It was so soft beneath his touch, something he never would have expected.
He let out a groan. Something was happening to him, and he didn't know what. Everything he'd ever learned about human biology, about sexual response, about the nature of lust went out of his head. Now he felt like something was overwhelming him, overtaking him, possessing him, and his eyes went wide in confusion.
"Dean?" he choked out, very much a question, the rest -- What's happening? -- unspoken. But Dean arm was around his shoulders in a second, and suddenly Dean was holding him close, pulling him against his body as he continued to stroke him fervently with his hand.
"It's okay, Cas," he said. "Let it go."
In a flash, Castiel's arms were around Dean too, just needing something to hold on to as he did. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, smelling the mustiness of his jacket as he cried out.
All he could do was breathe.
It came in ragged gasps as he regained his bearings, as his mind began to process again, and as his vision became clear. His legs felt weak beneath him, like they couldn't keep him standing, but somehow they did. He rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder.
"Not a virgin anymore," Dean said, the smallest of chuckles in his voice. "Don't say I don't keep my promises."
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Explicit sexual content/oral sex/mild dubcon? (warning just to be on the safe side)
Spoilers: Takes place during "Free to be you and me"
Summary: Dean made a promise to Castiel, and he'll be damned if he's going to go back on it now.
Notes: Came up with this at 4 in the morning. So sue me. Also, it's probably been done before in one way or another, but I hope it's enjoyable none the less.
"I didn't think anyone could actually get rejected by a prostitute, Cas," Dean said as they ducked down an alley after fleeing security. He laughed, breathless and hearty. "Figures you'd be the one to pull it off."
"I apologize," Cas mumbled. The angel sounded embarrassed.
"Don't," said Dean, clapping a hand on Cas' shoulder as Cas adjusted his jacket and tie. "Man, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time. I needed that." They stopped for a moment in the alley when they were sure they weren't being pursued for the moment.
Here they were, a hunter and a flummoxed angel, standing in a dark back alley behind a brothel: Castiel's face was red as ever and Dean just couldn't wipe away this stupid grin.
"Ah well, better luck next time, huh?" Dean asked.
"Perhaps it's better if there isn't a next time," said Cas. "This pursuit of sexual excitement does not seem worth all the trouble."
"Spoken like a true virgin," Dean chuckled with a smirk. Cas quirked an eyebrow at him.
"Forgive me, but I fail to see what would drive anyone to such things."
"Well it..." Dean shrugged. "It's sex, Cas. People just want it."
"It's physical pleasure. It can only be so fulfilling."
"Again, like a true virgin." Castiel huffed indignantly.
"It is an earthly, human pleasure. For a creature like me, that holds little value. I may look human in this form, Dean, but do not forget that I am truly a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial energy and intent."
Dean blinked.
"Multi-dimensional wave of what-the-fuck-ever, Cas. You don't know what you're missing."
"Maybe. But it's probably better that way."
"Better that..." He trailed off. "How long you been alive, Cas?"
"Eons."
"All that time not knowing what sex is like...What a...what an orgasm feels like?" Cas rolled his eyes.
"Dean-"
"No. No, you know what?" He stepped forward, and Cas reeled back against the chain link fence behind him when Dean grasped his belt.
"What are you-"
He could push Dean off. He could send him flying. But Dean's hands brushed against Castiel's groin in a way that made him just the tiniest bit... intrigued.
"I promised you, Cas," said Dean, his voice hushed and rough. His knuckles scraping against Castiel's zipper. "And dammit, I'm not going back on that now."
Cas watched him, feeling that he should stop it, feeling that this was forbidden or dirty or wrong, but doing nothing. Merely watching. Watching and waiting to see what Dean would do next. He felt himself responding to Dean's touch as Dean reached inside his pants, hand brushing against his growing arousal.
Dean drew him out, rubbing him briskly toward full erection, and Castiel's breath caught in his throat, coming out as a shaky gasp.
"Have you ever had anyone touch you there, Cas?" Dean asked him. Cas gave his head a ghost of a shake. Dean was staring at him intently, his gaze suddenly so erotic that Cas felt he should look away, but he couldn't. "Guess people aren't supposed to touch angels there, are they?"
Castiel was about to say something about how angels don't actually have genitals or sex in their true forms, that they did not copulate in the way humans did, that the only reason he was responding this way was because he was currently in a human body with a human sexual response mechanism to physical stimulation. But then Dean squeezed his hardening cock near the base and he couldn't get the words out, or even form a coherent thought on the matter.
He was breathing hard and fast all of a sudden, and Dean stopped, pulling back. He stared at the angel intently, and it was not the same look he'd had in his eyes a moment ago. It was different, softer, somehow. Concerned, even.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, suddenly sounding as if he was worried that he'd done something wrong, pushed too far too quickly. "Tell me you want me to stop, Cas, and I will."
Cas looked right back at him, tried to tell him yes, yes stop. This was wrong. This was at least fifty different kinds of wrong. But all that came out was a breathy, gruff, "No..."
Dean quirked his eyebrow, seemingly in some faint semblance of surprise, and he knelt down.
"Don't say I never did anything for you, Cas," he said, and he took Cas into his mouth.
Cas yelled.
Dean bolted upright again, and Cas immediately missed the contact of his mouth on his cock so achingly much he couldn't stand it. Dean's hand slapped over Castiel's mouth and he shushed.
"Keep it down," he commanded in a hushed tone. "I'd really like to not get caught if you don't mind.
Slowly, Cas nodded, and Dean removed his hand and leaned down again. Cas let his head fall back against the chain link fence with an audible rattle as Dean wrapped his lips around him one more time. A moan threatened to bubble up from Castiel's throat, but he caught it in time, swallowed it back down, didn't let it escape. Just as Dean had said. He gripped at the metal fencing behind him so tightly he thought it might cut into his flesh.
He could feel every little movement of Dean's tongue against his sensitive skin, every twitch of his lips around him, every light graze of his teeth, every squeeze of his fingers as his hand followed the path of his mouth, up and down. It was so human, so carnal, so wrapped up in flesh and blood and earth and bone and so foreign to Castiel that he couldn't get his thoughts in order. It was so different it was almost frightening, but so ludicrously amazing that all he wanted to do was shout his new-found ecstasy to the cool night skies.
Something built up within him, and he bucked his hips, though he didn't mean to. His hand found its way to Dean's scalp, his fingers running through Dean's hair. It was so soft beneath his touch, something he never would have expected.
He let out a groan. Something was happening to him, and he didn't know what. Everything he'd ever learned about human biology, about sexual response, about the nature of lust went out of his head. Now he felt like something was overwhelming him, overtaking him, possessing him, and his eyes went wide in confusion.
"Dean?" he choked out, very much a question, the rest -- What's happening? -- unspoken. But Dean arm was around his shoulders in a second, and suddenly Dean was holding him close, pulling him against his body as he continued to stroke him fervently with his hand.
"It's okay, Cas," he said. "Let it go."
In a flash, Castiel's arms were around Dean too, just needing something to hold on to as he did. He buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck, smelling the mustiness of his jacket as he cried out.
All he could do was breathe.
It came in ragged gasps as he regained his bearings, as his mind began to process again, and as his vision became clear. His legs felt weak beneath him, like they couldn't keep him standing, but somehow they did. He rested his forehead on Dean's shoulder.
"Not a virgin anymore," Dean said, the smallest of chuckles in his voice. "Don't say I don't keep my promises."