Ok, I'm going to stick a warning here, because this is labelled as Humor/Romance. Now, in this part, there is some blood, and death, which rarely fits into either category. If you don't want to read it, then you can skip this chapter, but it's only mentioned at the end, if you do want to brave it.
Ok, so yes, warning done. I told you I am working towards something, and I hope to get there as soon as possible, because I am losing my drive for this story. I do want to finish it, though, and start on a new one. So expect it to be wrapping up soon.
Dean and I are sitting at a particularly nice restaurant, discussing all the little things that we love about each other, just like the doctor told us to, and I don't think I have ever felt so shy in my life.
It might have something to do with the things that Dean likes about me... that he is muttering in my ear, with that smirk of his...
"You know what else I love about you, Castiel?"
He practically growled that one out...
I'm shivering. My cheeks are flushed and I already have to hide my slight erection. How can he be so competent at getting me this worked up?
"I love how your hips do that little roll against mine when you are riding on my hard cock. Mmm... It feels so good, Cas. You know what I mean, right? That small twist."
Biting my lip, I nod, and acknowledge him and his filthy words. But apparently, that's not enough for my partner, and he gently bites down on my earlobe, and voices his discontent.
"No, Castiel. I want to hear you say it. Answer me properly."
My blue eyes are nearly black. Ashamed, I turn to Dean, and see that he is in a similar state to me, with his vibrant green eyes a deep shade of emerald, and as lust-blown as mine. I'm not as embarrassed as I was before, but despite the convenient location of our table, I can feel the stare of others. It's not pleasant.
"Dean, we are attracting attention."
"What more do you expect, Cas? A blind man would stare seeing you this flustered."
"I... I cannot help it."
"Can we leave now?"
"As soon as you do one little thing for me."
"Now kids, did your father... er... fathers... um... parents let you know what would be happening?"
"Yes, Mrs. Thripstick."
"You're a good girl, Cherry. Now, I'm going to go get you lot some snacks. Be back in a tick!"
Mrs. Thripstick walked out of the room, and as soon as she was out of sight, the children began their inspection of the house.
"Where are all the anti-possession artefacts?"
"I can't find the salt lines!"
"Hey, guys! I found a crucifix!"
"Boston, they're practically useless."
"Have you been reading those silly vampire books that the school has?"
"Guys, shhh. She's coming back."
Mrs Thripstick waltzed back into the room, and saw 7 adorable children sitting on her carpet, smiling up at her expectantly.
"Aww. You're all such well behaved children."
"Thankyou, Mrs. Thripstick."
"Here's your dinner, kids."
"Do you have any salt, Mrs Thripstick?"
"I'm sorry, of course I do, Sour Cream."
Their babysitter ran back to the kitchen and returned with a large salt shaker.
"Here you go, sweetheart."
"Thankyou, Mrs. Thripstick."
Sour Cream promptly stood up, salt shaker in hand, walked towards the main entrance, and lay down a perfectly executed salt line, at least... she did. However, Mrs. Gertrude Thripstick ran forward, and snatched the salt shaker away from the dark haired child.
"NO. We do NOT put food on the carpet."
"Technically," chimed Apple from the other room, "salt is a condiment."
A stern glare in Apple's direction silenced the child, and Gertrude put her attention back on the felon in front of her.
"Because, you misbehaved and ruined my carpet."
"It's hardly ruined."
"Don't get smart with me, young lady!"
"But I am trying to save your life!"
"By spilling salt on the floor?"
"No, by... What was it Apple?"
"By spreading a purifying agent around the perimeter of the house, the purity of salt counteracts the impurity of the mutated demon soul, thus repelling it."
"... Yeah... What she said."
"That's it! You are both going to the naughty corner until you learn how to behave!"
Gripping both hands of the offensive children, she placed them at the opposite ends of the house.
"Umm, Mrs. Thripstick?"
"Technically, it would have been corners. Not corner. Going to the naughty corners."
Mrs. Thripstick stared exasperatedly at the child, before walking away.
"Nobody appreciates intelligence."
"Dean, why is he treating her like that? It hardly seems like the correct way to build up a relationship..."
"Well, Cas. She won't behave for him if he treats her decently, and he will lose respect if his girl walks around cussing at all his friends."
"So he humiliates her, and makes her think he's mad?"
"Don't worry, Cas. It's Shakespeare. I don't think he even knew what he was writing half the time..."
"Can I have 5ths?"
"Reese! You've eaten far too much for a child your age anyway! No!"
Gertrude Thripstick took the child's plate and went to put it on the sink when she saw Deanna, sitting next to her knife stand.
"Your knives are blunt. I could sharpen them, for a price, of course!"
"Deanna! Put those down! You'll cut yourself!"
Deanna rolled her eyes, put the knife she was holding back in its slot in the stand, before holding her hands up in a mock surrender. Gertrude pulled the Deanna off of the kitchen bench, and walked to the TV, hoping that would amuse the children. She went to turn it on, when she saw a big flash from the end of her room. She ran towards there to see what happened, to see a very satisfied John, dusting his hands.
"Look what I did, Mrs. Thripstick! I fixed your computer! It works almost 5 times faster now!"
"John! Get away from those electrical wires! Oh my goodness!"
As she was about to begin a long tirade at the youngest child about electrical hazards, she felt a tugging on her skirt.
"Why won't you yell at me? I'm just as good at being bad as Sour Cream! You aren't paying attention to me!"
"Go do something else, Boston! You're in my way!"
Boston sniffled, and walked away, before turning around and saying in a melancholy voice, "By the way, Sour Cream's got your salt shaker again..." Mrs. Thripstick ran towards her living room, and noticed that the entire edge of her living room was an edge thick with salt. She opened her mouth to chastise the mischievous child. Before she could begin, however, Sour Cream interjected.
"You don't want to die, do you? Well, I'm salting your house anyway! You need it!"
"Put that salt shaker down this instant, or else I will call your father!"
Sour Cream smirked at the face that her babysitter was making, before continuing her salt line. Mrs. Thripstick marched towards the phone, when she was stopped by the little short know-it-all.
"All your information is wrong, Mrs. Thripstick. I have studied extensively and have found no mention anywhere of a real 'Hogwarts School of Wizardry'. It is just a fantasy."
"How did you find that! I had that hidden! Put it back, Apple!"
Mrs. Thripstick snatched the book from the child, and ran to return it to her hiding spot. She couldn't let her church find out she was reading this, or else she would be in huge trouble. She took a deep breath, and heard Cherry's voice from the other room.
"Guys! Unkie Gabe says to stop being so difficult."
"That doesn't sound like him, Cherry."
"Your right, Sour Cream, it doesn't. I'll just check."
"He says Unkie Sammy told him to say it."
She had had it. No more nonsense. She marched through the corridor and voiced her exasperation.
"WILL ALL OF YOU STOP!"
There was silence. She was so relieved that she began to laugh hysterically. The kids watched in amazement.
"Do you think we made her mad, Cherry?"
"Where are we headed now, Dean?"
"To a hotel."
Dean pulls out a box of condoms, and gestures to the duffle bag filled with various other sex toys.
"You mean, we are going to copulate?"
"That seems like a fitting end to such a fantastic date."
"Well, the food was delicious, the play had an intriguing twist to it, and now I am about to have sex with the man that I fell in love with the moment I touched the first atom of his existence."
"Wow. All the way back then?"
"You will remain seated in your designated corner until I permit you to leave! Is that understood!"
"Boston! She says stay on your chair until she says get up!"
"I knew that, Sour Cream!"
"No you didn't!"
"Yes I did!"
Mrs. Thripstick left the room, and went to debrief the other kids.
"Ngngngg! Dean! Right there!"
"You like it when I do that, Castiel?"
"Yes, oh, Father, yes!"
"Do you really want to bring your father into this?"
The vibrating cock ring was on Castiel's member, and Dean was working his hole with his tongue. The dual sensations were almost too much for the angel. He could feel himself getting looser and looser as his partner continued his ministrations, and he was writhing and twisting and contorting in a vain attempt to further his pleasure.
"Alright Cas, think your ready?"
"Dean! Just flip me over and fuck me!"
"Your wish is my command." Dean replied with a smirk.
He pushed his hard and leaking member into his angel's awaiting hole. Hissing as he felt the walls constrict around him.
"Cas, baby, relax."
Visibly loosening his tightened stance, he breathed deeply, and whispered into his hunter's ear "Move."
Dean moved. He slowly pushed himself in and out of his partner, letting him adjust, before picking up the pace.
In. Out. In. Out.
They were sweating, reaching their peak. Dean was moving faster now, mentally hoping Cas would get his release so he could cum.
"Dean, I think I'm nearly there... just a few more... and..."
Dean was shocked. He grabbed the sheets of the hotel room bed and quickly covered himself and his slightly disappointed angel.
"Daddy Dean? Why are you wrestling with Daddy Cas?"
"Boston, go back to Mrs. Thripstick. She'll be worried sick."
"But she's mad."
"Dean, what's the matter anyway? Don't you want our son to see the close bond we have?"
"Dude... That's just... Sick! Would you want to see your father... um... making humans?"
"I watched all the time."
"Ok, wrong analogy..."
"Boston, Daddy Dean is right. Mrs. Thripstick will be worried about you. She is only human, after all."
"Why are you here anyway?"
"Sour Cream was being mean to me."
"Go back. We will deal with this tomorrow."
A moment later, Boston was gone.
"Now, where were we?"
There was no answer. The lights were flickering, and Sour Cream's salt lines had been broken. Vacuumed up.
"Guys? Where are you?"
The clink of metal on tiles. Someone was in the kitchen. Boson cautiously toddled towards the sound, and its destination.
"Seriously guys. This isn't funny."
He walked in, and saw a few spots of blood. Now he was really scared. He followed the blood spots, and saw Mrs. Thripstick's dead body. a few drops of blood coming from her mouth, and her eyes frozen open in a mixture of shock and horror.
Next thing Boston knew, he was inside a metal cage, with his siblings, in a ring of holy fire staring down a small group of demons.
Let me know what you think. Was it too much? Should I tame it down?