Dean growled against the soft, pliant lips of his Angel and was rewarded by a hand fisting in his hair – a surge of strength that had him struggling for dominance. He grinned, teeth pulling on his bottom lip he pushed Cas against the white plaster wall.
There were things he needed to be thinking about – Sam, Hell, Bobby, he was pretty sure his baby was still parked on the street outside Stiles house – but his entire focus was swallowed by ocean blue eyes and a desperate, deep need that should have terrified him.
Castiel groaned into his mouth, hips rocking forward as he tried to ease the ache that was burning through his blood. Damn, Dean should have done this months ago. Years ago. This was what he needed. They were still fully clothed, making out like teenagers in an empty house – not knowing when they were going to be disturbed. Dean needed to slow down soon, or he was going to last about as long as a damn teenager.
"Dean," Cas moaned, and Dean couldn't help the stuttering buck of his hips. "Please." His voice was deeper than normal, gravely and Dean never really thought he'd lose control over two words.
His hands were everywhere, pulling at the layers of clothing between them desperately. Why the fuck did they wear so many clothes? Who needed a jacket, a shirt and a tee? He was already kicking his boots off when Cas reached for his belt, fingers sure and confident – nothing like the shaking hands that Dean was having to work with.
"We need to slow down." Dean groaned, as Cas hauled the leather strip and pulled it off completely, throwing his belt across the room.
"No." He rumbled, voice sending Deans blood pumping faster through his veins. His need was a white pinprick, body going much faster than his mind, a primal need taking over. Dean hadn't felt like this since… ever. Probably the first time he got a girl, when he was 15 and desperate to look like he knew what he was doing.
"Not gonna last." He managed, as Cas' hands found skin, pushing up under his t-shirt with a satisfied groan. "Fuck, Cas." He ground out, hips rocking forward without engaging his brain. Their make-out sessions had been something Cas had taken seriously, learning every part of Dean he could with a laser-like intensity, and he was applying his knowledge now in earnest. His fingers flexed against Deans ribs, dragging down the sides of his body too hard, then pushing suddenly, tipping Dean's centre of balance off and sending him sprawling over the bed.
He didn't wait, as soon as Dean's back hit the bed he was there, pushing down – slotting their hips together and grinding forward. He broke the kiss only long enough to pull Deans tee over his head, and let out a soft, mewling moan as he pushed their bodies – chest to chest – together.
It was the first time that Dean hadn't been in control of… whatever this was, and he was aware – dimly – that it was different this time. Different to have Cas pushing, demanding more, taking what he wanted, rather than happily taking whatever Dean gave him. Somewhere something had shifted, and Cas was taking full advantage of Dean's compliance.
He knew every part of Dean to touch – that patch of skin between his shoulder and ribs that made him arch up into Cas hard and desperate, the perfect pressure of teeth pulling on Dean's bottom lip that skirted painful and made him moan, one hand fisted in his short hair and tugging just hard enough to tip his head back and expose the tendon of his neck.
Dean was spiralling out of control, too hot, too fast – dimly aware that he was still in his jeans and that the last time he'd cum in his pants he'd been a virgin, but couldn't hold on to the thought. He'd never lost control with Cas, he'd always been able to stop before… before this – but he'd been the one showing Cas what his body could do and now Cas was showing Dean just how much he'd been paying attention.
He knew that if he came, if he lost it with Cas, that was it. He'd not be able to pretend that he was just helping out a buddy, showing him how to go about getting laid – Christ, if he did this he wasn't going to be able to leave.
Cas must have been able to sense the growing panic that was over-taking Dean, because suddenly his hand was covering Dean's cock through his jeans and his mouth nipped the skin on his collar bone and Dean was fucked.
He came hot and fast, body shuddering out a stuttered beat that ripped a harsh cry from his throat and spots forming over his vision.
It took longer for him to come back from his high than he wanted to admit, by the time he was aware enough of his surroundings, Cas was leaning over him, eyes huge and blue and slightly unsure.
Dean grimaced, feeling uncomfortable in his jeans and well aware that he'd lost his shit before Cas – eternal virgin, but the edge, the knife edge of want and need was dulled now, he was able to think properly.
He could feel the tension in the Angel, still hovering over him – still hard and untouched, but now looking wary, as though he wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing. Dean wasn't sure how to say it was okay – better than okay, really – so he pulled Cas down for a slower, surer kiss. This time he wasn't blinded by his own need, and was able to concentrate on the things he knew Cas liked – the pressure of tongue, the scrape of teeth, trying to tell him without words that it was okay, Dean wasn't mad, or pissed.
His mind though, was running through a million things. He'd just lost his shit with Cas – and yeah, he may have jerked off a lot since they'd started… whatever this was – but he'd never actually lost it with Cas. He'd cum harder than he had in a long time – in his jeans like a teenager – and knew that he'd crossed a line he'd been dancing around for a while.
He wasn't gay.
But it was probably time to admit he wasn't exactly straight either.
After he'd kissed and rocked into Cas enough for the Angel to throw back his head and buck mindlessly into Dean's still soft cock till there was a matching patch of wetness on the Angels suit pants, Dean pushed them both to their feet.
He was a little surprised that he was still shaking enough for his knees to buckle slightly as he stood, swaying in the air for a moment or two before he gained his balance.
There was a trail of clothes from the door to the bed, and Dean wondered if it would feel… different… if he was looking at a bra or blouse, rather than a shirt and tie. Probably. He was man enough to admit that if it was a bra he probably wouldn't have jazzed in his pants like a teenager.
"Right, okay." He said, voice rough and sounding like he'd just gone through some marathon sex rather than dry humping a guy. "I'm gonna have a shower, and… you… get something to eat." He waved in the direction of the small kitchen.
The shower was small and the water pressure wasn't the best, but Dean was grateful for the time it took him to wash – time to clear his head and cool his blood back from boiling.
He'd done it, then, dimly aware that he'd been waiting for this moment to come. He knew, eventually, he'd end up going further with Cas than he should, but he'd expected to feel… different.
He expected to feel dirty or wrong, but mostly he just felt shaky and exhausted. Felt like it was normal, it was okay.
He dried himself roughly with a towel, noticing that his jeans were already gone, and in their place a pair of white linen pants – he'd been here a few times now, and knew that anything thicker would make him sweat like hell, so he pulled them on without thinking.
Cas was in the kitchen opening plastic containers that held an array of food. The Angel didn't eat normally, but he had told Dean after a particularly extended make-out that he felt a hunger for food after their 'activities'. Dean nearly passed out when his brain idly wondered just how much the Angel would eat after Dean fucked him into the mattress.
They went for a walk along the beach after eating, because Cas told him it would aid digestion – something that sounded suspiciously like Sam's interference. Dean went along with it because it was warm and sunny and he was feeling calmer than he had in a while.
Distantly, he knew that long walks on the beach were veering dangerously into chick-flick territory, but it wasn't like they were holding hands, so it was just… you know… exercise.
"What the fuck happened, Cas?" He asked after a while. "One moment we're about to be blown to hell and the next we're… here."
Cas looked out over the water, feet sinking into the warm sand as he walked. "I believe that Stiles sacrifice saved us."
"I think that was… something else." Cas admitted, "But I am not sure… what."
"You've got an idea though," Dean pushed, because he knew that his Angel would have thought about this a lot more than he had.
"I think… I believe…" He trailed off for a moment before turning to look at Dean. "Stiles said he saw God, saw my Father – he was a prophet, even if only for a short time… but I hope that… I want to think that perhaps my Father saw, and knew."
"You think God saved us?"
Cas was silent for a long time, walking along the pale sand and keeping his eyes anywhere but on Dean. "Yes," He said, finally, voice low. "I think He did."
"I'm not going to Vegas." Dean said, stubbornly. "Fuck that. I'm on vacation. If I got there something'll happen and I'll have to go kill shit and I'm not going."
Cas was sitting on the whitewashed brick wall that surrounded the small tiled yard that they used as a seating area outside because the villa only had the kitchen and bedroom. He wasn't trying to convince Dean too hard, he knew, because he didn't want to go either. Dean wasn't sure if it had something to do with the fact that here they could just be… them… and if they went back to the world that Dean would pull away.
And Dean knew he'd pull away, because he wouldn't be able to help it.
"Gabriel is insistent that Sam wants to see you."
"They can come here then."
"I will tell him." Cas shrugged, before disappearing, not trying to further the point. Dean wondered if he told Gabriel that he'd really tried and Dean was just being stubborn. Whatever, he was on vacation and he wasn't going anywhere. The world had been saved enough and he was going to enjoy this little patch of it that was his. Thiers. Whatever.
Dean had been doing some… research… when Cas was away, using the laptop that he'd asked the Angel to bring him. Sam had spent him a few emails, mostly telling him not to fuck up the thing with porn, but Dean was looking at a different kind of porn now, and felt completely out of his depth.
He'd been doing this… thing… with Cas for a few weeks, never going any further than handjobs (which were awesome) but he knew that Cas was keen to try more, assuming that Dean was some kind of expert on every part of sex. Dean had freaked out on his first internet search, because – damn, there were things he didn't need to see – but he was back again, ignoring the fact that guy porn was mostly huge cocks and guys with bodies that made Dean look like a damn… twink. He figured he knew enough about blowjobs because he'd been on the receiving end of more than his fair share, but the actual… sex… he wasn't too sure on.
He'd done… stuff (he still didn't feel comfortable thinking the word anal in the same head space as Cas) with chicks before, but didn't think they pay off was worth the prep – and the complaining wasn't awesome either.
But he'd been reading, doing proper research (Sammy would be so proud if it wasn't porn) and had found that guy sex was a little different. He'd taken a shower when Cas was away and tried it out himself, afterall, it wasn't so different than jacking off, it was still his own body. He'd spent most of the shower feeling fucking weird and seriously uncomfortable – and then he'd worked out where his prostate was and damn. His showers recently had been a lot longer.
He just needed to be able to… you know… do it to Cas.
In the end, it wasn't so complicated, and it wasn't what Dean had thought would go down. He'd been in the shower, Cas going away and doing whatever it was he did when he wasn't with Dean.
Dean had spent the morning looking at his usual girl porn, because it still got him hard and didn't make him feel like he needed to hit a damn gym or grow a few inches below the belt, and his body was thrumming for more than just a regular jerk off. His head was resting on the white tile as he worked another finger inside himself, pushing and twisting. The water washed the sweat off his skin as soon as it formed, and Dean bit on his lip to stop himself from grunting. He was relieved that he'd not worked this out sharing a space with Sam, because jerking off in the shower was easy and quiet, while this… this bypassed his control – sounds he'd never made before spilling over his lips.
He was struggling to hit the right spot today though, almost getting it then losing the angle, frustration making him push another, third finger inside his body. It was more than he'd done before – expecting pain but only getting a burn that punched the air out of his lungs with a groan.
"Dean?" Cas' voice said, close enough that he knew he was standing in the bedroom, close enough that Dean knew he could hear the noises that were spilling from his lips. Just the sound of his voice made Deans cock twitch, pre-cum forming on the tip, only to be washed away from the water.
He groaned again, unable to form the words, but knowing that Cas could hear him was almost enough.
The shower was small, but it wasn't the first time that Cas had joined him inside, they'd shared messy handjobs and washed each other clean, learning where to touch and where to bite in the small space.
This time though, Dean knew that what he'd been expecting… wasn't what was going to happen. "Dean?" Cas repeated, body pressed close against Deans back, mouth on his shoulder. It was a question, they both knew it, and Dean… well… he just nodded, moving his hand away so that Cas was able to lean closer.
Dean could feel the rub of his Angel's cock against the crack of his ass, not the first time, but the first time Dean had needed more. "Dean?" Cas repeated, voice rough and tense, because this time he knew what Dean was willing to let him do.
"Just fucking do it." Dean snapped, aware that if they waited any longer it wasn't going to happen, and he needed Cas now.
Dean had expected the Angel to fumble. He'd expected their first time to be… well… not this – he'd planned on being the one who pushed into Cas, make Cas stretch and burn – but as the Angel pushed his cock-head into his body, Dean whined with need. It hurt, probably because he was tense as fuck – and Cas was thicker than a couple of fingers, but Dean had never felt anything like it.
Cas continued to push, confident in a way Dean wasn't expecting, until they were pressed tightly against each other and Cas was completely inside him.
Any hard-on that Dean had was gone now, the pain and overall wrongness chasing it away, but Cas was hard as a damn rock inside him, tension radiating off him in waves. The Angel rocked him hips forward, as though he couldn't help it, a guttural groan against Deans shoulder. He rocked again, and this time the pain was… less… once more and the pain took a back seat to the sudden urgent need that washed through Dean like a wave. "Move." He growled, and…
It was the last coherent thought he had.
Dean flat out refused to be the chick in the relationship, no matter who was getting and who was giving. It just wasn't in his nature to roll over and play dead, and Castiel was more than happy to try out new things.
Cas liked sudden, rough and wild – pushed up against the wall, or the table, or anywhere else Dean shoved him. Dean liked the slow burn – late nights and lazy mornings, showers and taking their time. Both worked, and Dean didn't feel like he was… you know… the chick.
It was hard though, for Cas, and Dean knew the Angel put up with a lot of shit from him. Times like these, watching bodies on the dancefloor – watching his damn brother get hit on by an Archangel in drag – was hard for him. He just wasn't able to be… that.
Cas took it okay, really, when Dean pulled away from him in public, or shot him warning glances when the Angel would forget that they weren't alone. Dean tried to make it up to him later, watching a movie in bed (the flat screen entertainment centre was his pride and joy) when he'd curl up and try to be the best… boyfr – whatever… that he could be.
Mostly Cas didn't complain.
Then one day, they were having dinner outside, sitting on the wooden benches with Sam and Gabe who came once a week without fail for food and arguments, and his brother just… kissed the Archangel.
In front of Dean.
And Cas wasn't happy.
No one mentioned it, because Dean wasn't about to ask about his brothers sex life, and he really wasn't going to ask about Sam's sex life with a dude, but things changed.
Gabriel was brash and loud and didn't give a fuck that people would stare when he'd grab Sam's ass in public, or kiss him, or talk (loudly) about how great he was in bed (Dean was scarred for life). The fact that Sam just laughed it off was something Dean was never going to be able to understand.
The worst part though, was that Gabriel didn't keep his opinions to himself.
Dean knew, okay, he knew people… knew. About them. About the sex thing. They lived together on a damn beach, for Christ sake, it wasn't like they were hiding anything. He just didn't want people to talk about it. It was personal. Private.
But a few months after it became super clear to anyone within a 100 mile radius that Sam and Gabe were a thing, people started looking at Dean like he was supposed to do something. Say something.
And a few weeks after that, Cas started looking at him life he was supposed to say something.
Dean wasn't an idiot.
He acted like one sometimes, but he wasn't actually stupid.
So one night, lying in bed watching Stargate, Cas telling him why he believed that Jonas was a decent replacement for Jackson (Angels, seriously, knew nothing), Dean reached into the drawer were the lube was kept and pulled out the box that was there.
"Here." He said, roughly, pushing the box into his Angels hand. He didn't turn or look at him when he heard him open the box, because Dean knew what was inside. He'd thought of it before Sam and Gabe became a thing, before he felt weird and pressured into something he wasn't comfortable with.
Inside was a simple silver ring, nothing much, just… plain. He'd had it stashed in there for too long, because he'd hoped that Cas would find it one day and he'd not have to make a big scene or whatever, just shrug and say, 'well, it's yours' and that would be it.
"Thank you." Cas said, voice calm and steady, which was good, because Dean was starting to sweat.
"Whatever." He shrugged, "Jonas is a dick."
"He is capable and aware that he is a replacement for a much loved member of the team." Cas leaned into Dean, hand snaking around his waist, band of silver flashing in the light of the TV.
"Jackson is better. When he gets back, its better."
"I thought he was dead."
"He dies all the time." Dean shrugged. "Worse than Sammy."
"Gabriel, I understand that you believe yourself right in all things, but you are, in fact, mistaken."
"He's a God."
"And Tony Stark is a genius." Cas replied, voice steady. "He is far superior to a warmongering child."
Sam was staring at Cas like he'd been taken over by pod people, while Dean kicked back on the beach and let their conversation flow over him. Cas had actually loved super hero movies, so Dean had been going through as many as he could find.
"Thor," Gabriel spluttered, "Learned from his mistakes! Tony only loves himself."
"Pepper Potts!" Dean cut in. "He's got Pepper." He glanced over at Cas, smirking. I got your back, he mouthed with a wink.
"She's not even a thing!" Gabe shot back, "She's nowhere near enough-"
"Pepper is a capable woman, who has shown on several occasions that she is an equal to Stark." Cas said smoothly, not even letting his brother finish his sentence.
"You did this!" Gabe pointed directly to Dean. "You did this to him."
"Don't be ridiculous, Gabriel." Cas said calmly. "Dean prefers Captain America."
Somewhere, in a place unremarkable to anyone, a young woman screamed in pain. She had made some mistakes in her life, but prayed that she'd have the strength to get through this – get through the pain and the fear.
Her son was born first, grey and wrinkled, on the bathroom floor of the motel, followed by his brother – twin in the womb.
The girl, who would learn how to be a mother later, learned how to love instantly as she cleaned them, and herself, up.
She would grow, work hard and see her children graduate, love in her heart and pride for what they achieved coming from such a horrible start, on a cold bathroom floor.
They would love her unconditionally, see the good in the world and understand humanity better for the struggle they saw their mother overcome.
They would love, and help, and learn.
But for now, they were just two little babies, helpless and cold, crying and scared.
"Shhh," She soothed, holding them close, wrapped in a blanket she'd bought in a thrift store. "Shhh, my angels."
There was only one book in the motel, a tattered copy of Gideon's Bible, and she'd read it twice, seeking guidance.
She looked at it again, later, seeking inspiration as she sang softly to her sleeping angels.
"Michael," she smiled, looking at her first born. "Because you were first, and… Lucifer, because you are beautiful."
And somewhere, looking down, a Father saw. He saw what they would be, and what they would learn from this gentle woman. He saw how her love would be pure and whole, and how it would change them, make them into something new.
How they would be when they returned to the host, reborn in love.
And it was good.
I sorta maybe didn't give you as much smut as I said I was going to, but I got a little side-tracked with domestic!Cas and beach!Dean (you have no idea how much I need to see Dean on a beach right now) and I don't think Dean is ever going to be Rainbows and Gay Pride, but I don't think that'll matter much on his little patch of Heaven.
I didn't want to leave Michael and Lucifer in the cage. I get the feeling if God was going to save Team Free Will, he'd save his Sons too. Just… not in the way they thought.
Dean likes Captain America because he doesn't understand that reference, and Cas likes Tony because he's… well… Dean.
And Gabe likes Thor for obvious reasons that have nothing to do with his long hair. Honest.
Although never mentioned, Sam doesn't have a thing for Loki (much to Gabriel's distress) and spends hours after the movie talking about how Coulson shouldn't have died.
I'm going back to a full TeenWolf non-crossover next.
AU, all human, mature.
So far I've got no plot, just a prompt from Tumblr that I love.
Depending on how much I can get done I'll either start posting it tomorrow or Wednesday – if you've been following me for a while you'll know I can't really seem to take a break from writing, so might as well get into something new as soon as possible!
I'd like to take this time to say thank you so much for all the reviews and messages. I really, really appreciate the time you took to let me know what you liked and didn't, for sticking with me even though I made some grammar and spelling mistakes (I'm still flying free without a beta and trying to squish out my Scottish/Brit-Speak) and taking some pretty wide liberties within both TW and SPN!
It's the reviews that keep me focused and motivated to write, so thank you.
Love, Hugs and Other Spectator Sports,
Robyn aka 74days