I should be translating my multi chapter HP-fic, but instead, I managed to finish this one after keeping it in WIP-folder for months. You see, I always thought that this one should have actual sex, but now I realize, it really doesn't. It's just a funny ficlet; nothing more, nothing less. Well, you'll be the judge for the funny part, won't you? ;)
This story has NOT been beta-ed by anybody who speaks English as their first language, but thanks to Jolandina for pre-reading and pointing out a couple of obvious misspellings :3
No warnings (aside from cursing)! Except that this might be more like T than M, but hey, life is full of little disappointments ;)
Disclaimer! I do not own Supernatural series or its characters. I'm not making any money with this, so, don't sue! I mean no harm to anyone, just peace and love etc. Also, Misha Collins is my god.
A Private Rodeo
It was not like Dean was weird or anything, he just had a fetish. A normal fetish for anything related to cowboys or Wild West. It was really nothing, just a tiny thing he had, but when Cas walked into their bedroom, wearing the whole cowboy gear, Dean realized that he might have undermined his thing. The mere sight of Castiel dressed up like a real cowboy felt like a full blow to the midriff. In a fuck-a-licios way.
"Cas, whatta hell?"
"Umm," Cas hesitated, checking out his outfit in the mirror. "I wanted to show you my costume for the party at McGill's. Does it look proper?"
"You... What?" Dean spluttered and would have stood up if not the raging hard on he was sporting. "Where did you get it?"
Yeah. That's the point to focus on.
"From a place," Castiel said evasively and stepped closer. His spurs chinked against the hard wood floor that Dean had insisted their house should have. "I wanted it to be perfect, since it is my first costume party."
Cas slid his hands along his leather vest and even brushed the fringe flanking the chaps with his knuckles. Dean could only ogle from the top of Cas's Stetson all the way to the tips of his cowboy boots. Dean's own jeans didn't seem to fit him anymore, and he had to press the heel of his palm against his aching dick.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked, eyeing Dean's crotch suspiciously. "Did I overdo it?"
"You're about to over something," Dean mumbled, unzipping his jeans. "Get your ass here, cowboy, there's a wild mustang to tame."
Cas grinned and slipped his thumbs in the belt loops. He checked Dean out from under the rim of his worn Stetson. "To be honest, I popped in the year 1885 and bought the whole gear from there. It's authentic."
Dean groaned aloud and scooted over to the center of their king-size bed. "I mean it, cowboy, you'll lose your chance any minute now."
"It's not a problem, stallion. I can fetch some rope and tie you up," Cas smirked.
"Saddle up, cowboy," Dean spluttered, gasping for air. He was so horny he saw red. Where the hell had Cas learned to talk like that? And if Cas wouldn't do something soon, very soon, Dean would have to pounce on him.
"Anything you wish," Cas obliged, before crawling towards Dean and hoisting his leg over his hips. He sat down and rubbed his butt against Dean's boxer covered, leaking prick. "I'm going to ride you until you succumb, you hear me?"
"Less yapping, more tapping," Dean commanded, pulling Cas into a searing kiss. He groped blindly, trying to find Cas' crotch and the buttons guarding it.
"Tapping?" Cas asked, bewildered, a while later. "You want to dance?"
"Tapping my ass," Dean grunted, being busy with Cas' buttons. "You frigging virgin."
"I'm not a virgin," Cas said firmly, grabbing Dean's wrists and leaning on them with his whole weight. It was the equivalent of tying Dean up, Cas being the size of the Chrysler building and everything. "Do you want me to prove it to you?"
"Giddyup, cowboy. Do whatever you want, just don't lose the boots," Dean grinned wickedly.
It was going to be the best sex so far, and it had everything to do with the boots — plus the angel in them.
The fact is, I love reviews. And, they're so easy to leave, right? :3