Title: Momentary Lapse of Reason
Prompt/Summary: Slow, quiet, desperate sex as the world rages around them.
Note: For gen_annie as requested in the Fall Fandom Free-for-All on livejournal
Once, he watched as a supernova destroyed worlds; another time, as worlds were birthed in the gases of a cosmic nursery. Once, he joined a heavenly chorus that sung for joy as two cells became one and created the first living being.
Once, he was great and terrible and feared as an Angel of the Lord.
"Don't," Dean ground out, pressing a finger to Castiel's lips to silence the moan within. His voice came out in harsh little gasps as he rutted against Castiel's hip. "Be quiet. The others - Sam. Don't want them to hear."
Laughter from the nearby campfire sounded, chased by the crack of pine splitting and hissing, the scent of chili. Sam, Bobby, Ellen, Jo and the little ragtag band of hunters they ran with now that the world was imploding all around them. They looked almost ridiculous, sitting there, crouched closely together, a vulnerable, ragged little group huddled around a dim and wavering light as night soaked the world around them, thick and impenetrable.
Castiel nodded, let his head drop back against the rusted out hulk of the old truck they hid behind, and Dean sucked at his throat, his mouth sweet and wet, the rest of him all hardness and sweat and desperation. Castiel slid his hands from Dean's waist to his ass, felt the hard globes of muscle there, and canted his hips just so he could rub his aching hard, denim-covered cock into the crease between thigh and hip.
A flare shot high into the night sky, bursting white and red. It was the signal they'd been waiting for, and it meant that they had to pick up their arms again and move out as soon as possible.
"We should go," Castiel murmured, nodded to where the others were scurrying around, grabbing packs and calling orders.
Once, wings sprouted from his shoulders like majesty itself. He remembered the weightless bulk of them, the way they were so beautifully, intricately formed. He remembered the way they gleamed in the light of the spheres; the way they responded on an instant's notice to any direction he desired to go.
He had sparred with demons once, had raided the stinking, sulphurous pit of hell where the souls of the damned rotted like garbage.
Once, he burned out a woman's eyes with the glory of his true form.
"Not yet," Dean commanded, lips hardened and breath pistoning in time with his stuttering hips. "I need. Please. God damn it, not yet." His movements became more frantic; the dim orange light from the fire made his face look fierce and wild.
Castiel said nothing; he just continued jacking Dean's straining flesh, slow and deliberated. He felt Dean fumbling at his belt, then his hand slid around Castiel's erection. He bit at his lip to keep another moan back, carried away with the incredible intensity of the experience. Sensations overwhelmed him: the calluses on Dean's fingers as they clutched at his skin, the rough weave of his jeans in contrast to the soft cotton of his briefs, the humid puffs of Dean's breath on his neck, the slippery, salty taste of Dean's sweat on his tongue. He understood now, why lovemaking in all its various forms and fashions was so intoxicating to humans, why they pursued it with reckless, awful determination.
Dean stiffened and came, hot and thick, all over Castiel's hand. Castiel felt himself shudder with a peak of arousal at the knowledge that he had done this, given amazing pleasure to his human. "Come on," Dean whispered, rough and close. "Come for me, baby."
His fingers squirmed down further into Castiel's boxers, plying his balls between them in an utterly unexpected, utterly fantastic motion. "Oh," Castiel heard himself whimper, and it was as if a great plume of energy pulsed from his core and then he, too, was coming all over his partner's deft fingers. He heard the sigh he gave, but his vision was blotted out by color, fire and brimstone and pure, complete pleasure.
When it was over and his vision had cleared, he gave a shaky little laugh and pressed his forehead against Dean's cheek, then rested a palm against his chest, where it pulsed with the rapid thump of his heart, and the other curled around his waist, resting on the sweat-damp small of his back. Dean sighed, arms around Castiel's back, thumbs smoothing up and down in a gentle motion.
Together, they breathed as they came down from the high, and just held one another. Another flare burst in the sky, raining firecracker sparks down in a whistling fall. The burst of white light illuminated Dean's expression as he looked at Castiel, eyes full and dark, face radiating relief and affection and something like regret.
Once, he would have watched the desperate coupling of two humans as a dispassionate observer, mildly disgusted with the grubby physicality of the whole enterprise. He would have wondered at the appeal, at the frantic drives that caused such action. He would have looked to the stars and have known the shape of them, the cool burning light they gave off at their creation.
Once upon a time.