I've done it again, got a little distracted from my main verse and written smut. I'm bad like that. My only excuse is that I've had a bad few days at work, this made me feel better. Also, Punky, this is far better than the thing I sent you for your birthday, so lets say that this is the second gift.
Disclaimer: If they were mine, this would not be fanfiction, this would be real
In The Stacks.
Library research, Dean decides, should be illegal. There is nothing worse than sitting in enforced silence, reading and researching when he could be out there killing Lucifer, fighting evil and saving hot girls. Although hot girls have been really low on his list of post hunt perks lately, unbelievably low.
The thing about libraries, and Dean has mention this before although never in this context, is that they are silent, talking is not really allowed and rarely tolerated so nearly all communication between people is by body language or, the old high school favourite, passing notes. Libraries are a good place to flirt, they are a good place to meet girls and also a good place to pick them up, a smile holding more meaning in a place where silence is golden than it does where you can back it up with the right words. If a gesture is meant to be flirtatious, it will be obvious, no subtly required in a place such as this.
The reason that Dean has decided that this is no longer a good thing is sat opposite him, with dark hair stuck up at odd angles, a frown of concentration and lips pursed, almost as though they are waiting to be kissed. Blue eyes skim rapidly over the pages and long fingers seem to caress the book as each one is turned. Sometimes a hand will let go of the book, for just a moment, pick up a pen and use it to scratch a few notes onto the pad of paper on the table, before laying the pen back down almost reverentially and returning to the book. When not moving, the subject of Dean's attention is still, almost statue like and were it not for the fact that Dean can hear soft breathing, the hunter could almost believe that to be true.
"Dean," Castiel speaks softly, so as not to draw attention to his words and the hunter breaks his stare, turns his head slightly to try and hide his discomfort and feels the angel's, former angel's, eyes burning into the side of his face, almost as though he is still trying to see inside of him like he used to be able to.
Next to them, Sam sighs and throws a rather pointed look in their direction. This is the Sam look that quite clearly states, to Dean at least, that he is sick of their lack of help in this all important research task and if they are not going to focus can they please go away and be distracting on their own because Sam does not have the patience to deal with Dean's heartsickness and Castiel's obliviousness right now.
What Dean was saying about body language being the key in a library, well Sam has that down to a fine art, along with the exasperated glare he uses to return Dean's pseudo innocent face. This glare tells Dean to take Castiel back to the motel room and screw his brains out before they spontaneously combust out of sheer stubborn refusal to take the hint. Dean goes with the latter option and retires to one of the more out of the way shelves on a quest for another book, any other book, that he can use as an excuse to hide the erection he has been sporting for the last five minutes just from watching Castiel read.
A soft hand on his shoulder makes him flinch and he turns from the books he has been pretending to contemplate whilst thinking of anything that might help him to solve his rather immediate and obvious problem. What he sees does not help matters.
It is Castiel, of course it is, because with Dean's poor luck these days it really had to be. The former angel has his head tilted at a slight angle, that confused frown in place and his lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet them a little and Dean has to close his eyes and look away as he feels himself, impossibly, get even harder at the sight. It makes him wonder if maybe Sam is right, maybe he finds the things that Castiel does all the more of a turn on because he simply cannot have him. Even that thought does not help very much, does not help at all, and he groans in lust and frustration.
Castiel is oblivious, he almost has to be, knows about sex, has simply never experienced it, nor has he shown a desire to since he fell. His only real interest has been in stopping Lucifer, something that Dean is fully on board with, naturally, it is just that, right now, he is not as eager to get rid of Lucifer as he is to teach Castiel about the joys of the pleasures of the flesh.
"Is something the matter?" Castiel asks, concerned, and the deep rasp of his voice just goes straight downwards, forcing Dean to suppress a shudder at this completely irrational reaction to the fallen angel's words.
"Fine," he hisses in response, noticing just how cracked hi voice is, how much he just wants right now.
"You do not sound fine, Dean," Castiel informs him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around and Dean knows, now, that the former angel cannot fail to miss what he was trying to hide so keeps his eyes closed, not wanting to see his initial reaction. When he hears nothing more than a low gasp he opens them, sees Cas looking at him in such a way that Dean cannot help himself, pushes Castiel back against the over large bookcase behind him and presses their lips together.
For a long moment, Cas does nothing, does not move, does not respond and Dean worries that he has just done something monumentally stupid. Then, miraculously, Castiel's lips move under his, hands come up so that long fingers can tangle in the hunter's short hair. Dean grins, deepens the kiss, tongue finally, finally, finding it's way inside the fallen angel's mouth, tangling and battling with it's counter part as Dean pulls Cas tight against him, letting him feel how much Dean wants him right now. Castiel moans at that, almost whimpers when Dean brushes a hand against the front of his jeans, gentle fingers ghosting over the semi-erection that he had begun to sport and bringing it to full hardness with little more than a few well placed touches, whines when the hand disappears.
Still they are kissing, breaths coming in short, desperate, gasps, hands clawing at clothing, need to explore and see what is underneath and knowing that they cannot, Dean's hands reaching towards Castiel's zipper.
"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" A distinctly feminine voice says from behind them and Dean breaks away for a moment to see a young woman, no older than eighteen or nineteen turning scarlet at the end of the stack, eyes wide behind thick rimmed black glasses. She retreats under his glare, but the damage is done and the mood is killed. Dean still wants Cas, wants him so bad right now that it hurts, but before he was willing to risk getting caught to have him, seeing how close they came to it, he is not so keen on the idea anymore.
"We gotta get out of here," he whispers, sealing his lips over the angel's once more.
"Is not coming, he'll make his own way back later," Dean tells him, voice firmer than it has a right to be. "We're going back to the motel, now." If he has to wait much longer, the hunter knows that he is going to explode, he wants and he needs and he knows that Castiel feels the same.
They stay as out of sight as possible, Dean leading and Castiel following, leaving the library as rapidly as possible, making their way back to the Impala and in the light of day, Castiel looks all the more desirable, his blue eyes dark with lust, his lips kiss swollen and his dark hair mussed from the way that Dean has been running his fingers through it. It is all that Dean can do not to bend him over the Impala and take him right there and then. He gets in the car instead, hears Castiel get in with a little more haste than grace and resists the urge to look at him as he speeds back to the motel.
Once they get there, however, it has been long enough for the first desperation of lust to fizzle out a little, for the atmosphere to become awkward as soon as their eyes fall on the bed. For just a moment, Dean begins to think that Castiel has had second thoughts about this, now that he knows for certain where it is headed. In that moment Dean is ready to tell him that they do not have to do this, even though he is still almost painfully hard, clears his throat to do so and is almost bowled over when the former angel kisses him.
It is a slow kiss, one that quickly becomes something else, that rapidly turns as desperate and as needy as the kiss they shared in the library. Dimly, Dean is half away of his cell phone ringing, feels Castiel pull it from his pocket and toss it on Sam's bed, brushing Dean's erection as he does it and causing the man's hips to jerk forwards. Both groan at the new sensation and Dean begins to pull frantically at the blue button down shirt that Castiel chose to wear that morning, pushing buttons through holes.
By the time the buttons are undone, Dean is nibbling at Castiel's neck, listening to the angel moan as his teeth catch lightly on sensitive skin, hands fluttering against Dean's back and stomach, fisting uselessly in his shirt and searching for warm skin. Eventually Dean solves that problem for him, breaking away for long enough to pull his t-shirt over his head, discarding it behind him, leading Castiel to the bed, removing shirt, jeans and boxers, helping the fallen angel remove shoes and socks and taking a moment to admire an impressive erection before he pushes him down.
It takes him a little longer than he would like to remove his remaining clothing and his boots. Then he is free to the cool motel room air and is on the bed, touching Castiel's pale skin with rough hands, amazed at the simple softness of it, the way that he can feel muscles shifting a fluttering under his finger tips, leaning in to kiss every exposed inch of flesh.
"Dean....." whatever else Castiel was going to say is lost as Dean swallows him, words becoming nothing more than a string of gibberish. After a minute, Dean stops, kisses his way up Castiel's chest and stomach, pausing to give attention to the former angels nipples and ignoring the mewls and gasps as best he can, wanting the angel more than he has ever wanted anything at this point and it is taking all of his control for him not to push Castiel too hard, not to take what he needs and give his partner something of the same. This is Castiel's first time, deep down, Dean knows that he wants this to be special for him.
He spits in his hand, wishing that he had the foresight to have bought some lube, files it away for next time, and using his saliva to slick up his fingers, coaxing Castiel's legs apart with his other hand and meeting eyes that seem almost blind with desire, unable to use his voice to speak but asking with his eyes that the former angel trust him as he pushes one finger inside him.
Castiel gasps, arches up, lust clearing for a moment to be replaced with pain, pain which Dean soothes away with a touch and a kiss, tongues duelling, distracting the angel from the second finger that works it's way in, curling and moving, making Castiel writhe and moan and Dean knows that he cannot last much longer. He slicks himself up, removing his fingers and having to smile as Castiel moves to try and regain the sensation, hushes his whimpers and stills him, easing himself slowly in and marvelling at the tightness of it all.
He establishes a rhythm quickly, keeping his body close so that he can trap Castiel's erection between them, using the movement of his body to cause enough friction to push the former angel over the edge, listening to his cries and shouts as he comes, not far behind him, screaming the angel's name as he loses all sense of time and place.
When he can finally breathe again, his cell phone is still ringing and Castiel is kissing his throat lazily, running his tongue in gentle circles just under his ear and Dean rolls away, pulling the former angel up so that he can kiss him, reaching blindly for his phone and glancing at the screen before answering.
"Hey, Sammy," his voice is broken, cracked and he hears Sam sigh on the other end of the line.
"I'm gonna want another room aren't I?" Dean glances at Castiel, feels want stirring deep within him, knows that it will be difficult for him to keep his hands off him.
"Yeah," he smirks, hears Sam chuckle.
"Just be dressed by the time I get back, ok?"
"Sure thing, Sam," Dean agrees, but knows that as soon as his brother is gone, he will have Castiel naked again, wonders if he will ever feel right seeing his partner clothed again. As Sam hangs up, the hunter thinks he can hear him mutter something, something that sounds suspiciously like the word finally and it makes him smile as he leans in and kisses the angel again, finally indeed.