Fic: Glasses!Porn (Dean/Castiel, NC-17)
May. 20th, 2009 03:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tracy_loo_whoI know there are other fics I'm supposed to be writing, and I swear I'll get to them next, but, uhm, porn kind of trumps all, right? 'Sides, I haven't written porn in what seems like forever.
Oh, and yes, I realize Dean doesn't need to be hospitalized for sprained wrists, but pretend there's something else wrong with him too, okay? *facepalm*
Title: Glasses!Porn
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~2,600
Spoilers: None
Notes: This is how it happened:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
strangeandcharm created a glorious 'verse called Superheroes in which Castiel falls and wears glasses, ran_cl manipped that, I iconed it, and nabichansaotome said, "Now I can't stop seeing Castiel with glasses, as in, giving Dean a blowjob while wearing glasses at that. I mean, really, who wants to see that?" (ME.) This shameless PWP is loosely set in the Superheroes 'verse (♥ to strangeandcharm).
Summary: In which Castiel wears glasses and dresses up as a doctor to visit Dean in the hospital.
The worst thing about being stuck in a hospital with two sprained wrists, Dean decides, is not being able to rub one out when he wants to.
And he really, really wants to right now.
It's been three days, and Castiel always comes for visiting hours. But so does Sam, and Dean can't very well ask his brother to leave so he can beg Castiel for a quickie, can he? And anyway, Castiel might not even oblige, considering how unhappy he's been with Dean these past few days for getting himself hospitalized again for something even Dean admits was stupid. Even so, he came close today, when Castiel sat on the edge of his bed, near enough that the heat from his body made Dean's warm with desire. He was right here, intense blue eyes and softly curving lips and so familiar, every bit Dean's Castiel, the one who brought him to ecstasy every night with his hands and lips and body. Those same hands and lips and body were separated from Dean by only an inch of air and an inch of clothing, but Dean couldn't grab Castiel and press their open mouths together and shove off that trench coat because Sammy would be scarred for life. That, and his fucking wrists were sprained. So instead he rolled onto his side to avoid denting the sheets embarrassingly (but mostly to curl his body around Castiel's) and told them he was okay.
Fuck, Dean thinks, because the nurse shooed Castiel out half an hour ago and he's still hard. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about how firm Castiel's hands are, or how warm and wet his mouth is. So, he thinks about how firm Castiel's hands are, and how warm and wet his mouth is.
Dean groans and tries to touch himself under the sheets, but the sharp pain from his wrist makes him groan again.
It draws footsteps into the room, a doctor or nurse who probably wants to ask him if he's in pain. Dean keeps his eyes shut and pretends to be asleep because the last thing he wants is someone checking up on him right now.
But then there are firm hands on his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. Dean's whole body tenses and his eyes snap open, but his alarm catches in his throat and turns into surprise when he sees that it's Castiel. Then he sees that it's Castiel in a white lab coat, eyes narrow behind a pair of glasses and looking every bit the bookish doctor with his bookish clipboard, and opens his mouth to say something. But Castiel covers it with one hand, and whatever he was about to say gets lost anyway because Castiel's hand is just as firm as Dean remembers and it makes desire coil afresh somewhere low in his body.
Apparently satisfied that Dean will remain quiet, Castiel withdraws his hand and moves away to close the door, and Dean's thrill from the knowledge of what's about to happen battles his ache from the sudden loss of contact.
"Cas," he whispers, and then Castiel is back, clipboard gone and climbing onto the foot of Dean's bed and pushing his legs apart so he can settle into the vee between them. "What're you do--"
Castiel's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Dean, and his voice is low when he replies, "Teaching you a lesson."
"What less--" Dean cuts himself off with a small moan when Castiel presses his palm against the obvious dent in the sheets. He squirms under the touch and bucks, but meets empty air when Castiel pulls his hand back. Dean lets his hips fall back onto the bed with a small grunt of frustration.
"Call it a lesson in self preservation," Castiel replies calmly, and Dean has to bite his lip, hard, when Castiel puts his hand on him again, pushing his erection flat against his abdomen and stroking lazily up and down the length of its underside. Even through the pajamas and the sheets, the way Castiel's knuckles graze Dean's most sensitive areas feels fucking amazing, and his eyelids flutter in pleasure.
"More," he whispers insistently, but instead Castiel gives him less, hand pulling away again just as Dean tries to rub up against it as subtly as possible. "Goddammit, Cas," he swears under his breath, but Castiel ignores him.
He does peel the sheets away from Dean, though, and then his fingers slide under the waistband of Dean's pajamas and he shudders at the touch, at the way the fabric drags across his skin on the way down to bunch around his knees. Then his cock is free, finally, hard and ready to be touched, and Dean almost holds his breath waiting for it.
What happens instead is Castiel fishes around the side of the bed for something, and by the time Dean realizes what's going on, Castiel's already strapping his left leg down. "What the fuck," he hisses, trying to kick Castiel's hands away, and this time Castiel smirks.
"I can leave, if you prefer," he says mildly, and Dean glares furiously but holds still while Castiel finishes strapping down both legs. Whatever he's got planned, Dean's got no choice but to go along with it. He tests the straps and they're tight, but not uncomfortably so, and suddenly it sends a thrill of excitement through Dean, to be here in a hospital with his legs spread open and anchored to the bed and his hands just as useless, exposed so vulnerably and completely at Castiel's mercy. There's a part of him that fights it, still, because Dean has been at the mercy of far too many demons and other monsters and Alastair to be completely comfortable with this, but he looks at Castiel in his white lab coat and his glasses and thinks, I trust you.
Castiel stares back and a small smile momentarily softens his features. He bends down and Dean's breath hitches in anticipation, but those lips fall on the inside of Dean's thigh, as close to his knee as Castiel can get with the pajamas there. It's an open-mouthed kiss, warm and wet and Castiel even sucks a little, which makes Dean whimper because it's so good but so not in the right spot. Castiel kisses and sucks his way slowly up Dean's thigh, covering every inch except where the bed straps are in the way, but not even those inches of skin get ignored because Castiel's fingers slide under the straps to knead at Dean's flesh.
Dean's body starts quivering a tiny bit when Castiel's mouth gets closer and closer to where he wants them to be, to that sensitive dip between his thigh and pelvis, so close please please please, but of course Castiel moves back down again to start over on his other thigh. Bastard, Dean thinks as he groans softly, a mixture of frustration and pleasure because all this time Castiel's hands haven't once stopped carressing and massaging his legs. Castiel sucks harder this time, and when Dean looks down, he can actually watch his skin redden under Castiel's mouth. But what he really pays attention to is the wet fullness of Castiel's lips, his single-minded concentration on his task, and what wouldn't Dean give to have that kind of attention be paid to his cock, right fucking now? "Please," he says softly when Castiel draws near again. "Cas."
When Castiel's head moves lower a second time without even a single brush of lips against cock, it makes Dean want to scream in frustration. Except then those lips close around one of his balls and Castiel sucks it lightly into his mouth and there's even tongue, and Dean would moan and moan and moan if they weren't in a hospital where a nurse was liable to come in at any second. Castiel's mouth works the other one too, and then he moves to the base of Dean's erection, kissing and sucking just as he did with Dean's thighs. It's wet and glorious and sends jolt after jolt of pleasure through Dean's entire body, and as Castiel moves along the underside to the spot just below the head, Dean just wants to come right then. But it's not quite enough, and Castiel knows it, and after one final, lingering kiss to the head, he lifts Dean's hospital gown and moves on to his stomach.
"Come on, Cas, you son of a bitch," Dean growls as softly as he can, and he just wants to grab Castiel's head and push it back down, but his arms lie uselessly at his sides. Castiel dips his tongue into Dean's bellybutton and ignores him, but his lightly stubbled throat brushes against the head of Dean's cock, and it makes him shiver and want to dig in harder. The bed straps hold, and Dean can feel that son of a bitch smirk against his stomach.
The buttons on his hospital gown are undone one at a time, starting from the bottom, and Castiel pays so much loving attention to each new bit of skin revealed that Dean enjoys himself despite the throbbing ache of his neglected lower half. He loves being kissed all over like this, and he loves the way Castiel's hands stroke and carress his sides and ribs and nipples and collar bones and everything, like he hasn't already done this a hundred times; thoroughly, reverently, protectively, possessively. Dean may have shared his body with countless, but Dean is Castiel's, and they both know it. When Castiel's lips close around his throat, Dean arches his head back to offer him more.
One last press of lips to Dean's chin, and then Castiel's mouth is poised over Dean's, just as the rest of his body hovers above him, covering his own and so close Dean can feel the heat radiating off of Castiel all along the length of his bare skin, but not touching. His entire body is acutely aware of it and he strains against the bed straps in a vain attempt to press closer, but he can't even reach the lapels of Castiel's lab coat, and he can't have him. Only Castiel's tie pools in his throat, taunting him mercilessly.
"Please," he says weakly, staring imploringly up into Castiel's eyes over the rim of his glasses. "Please just touch me."
"Promise me you'll be more careful," Castiel commands. He doesn't move a hair.
"I promise!" Dean says desperately. "I promise, I promise, anything, please, Cas, touch me."
Castiel's eyes narrow, but he reaches between Dean's legs and his fingers finally, finally wrap around hard flesh and squeeze. Dean's moan disappears into Castiel's mouth as he hushes him. "Shhh," he whispers against Dean's lips, "You have to be quiet, Dean, or someone will come in and then I'll have to cover you up and leave you strapped here all night..."
Dean tries to glare, but his eyes go unfocused when Castiel's thumb starts to draw circles around the head of his cock, pausing only to press into that spot on the underside with each completed circle. Then he strokes the entire length twice, lazily, and it feels so good but Dean begs him for more by ravaging his mouth and battling his tongue with every bit of desperation he feels. Castiel pulls away after a second and all he can do is whimper in loss.
"I don't think I believe you, Dean," Castiel says, dangerously calm even as he drives Dean mad with a touch he knows is too light and too slow.
"What do you want me to say?" Dean hisses, and he can barely keep it together anymore. "I promise, I promise to be more careful, I promise I won't let you lose me, I promise! Please, just, please, Cas."
And Castiel smiles, suddenly, and plants a chaste kiss to Dean's mouth, his own promise. Then he pulls his tie over his head, knocking his glasses askew in the process, and Dean only has a moment to wonder wildly if that's more adorable or more sexy before Castiel squeezes him hard and his mouth opens on a low moan because despite his years of being quiet in the shower because Sam was always in the next room, Dean can't be quiet right now. Castiel seems to realize, because he takes advantage of Dean's open mouth to stuff it with his tie.
Dean's eyes go wide, but Castiel merely adjusts his glasses and covers Dean's mouth with a hand for good measure. Then he sinks down Dean's body and swallows his whole length in one go, something Dean will never figure out how he can do but also something for which he's infinitely grateful. The shock of complete and blinding pleasure after wanting for so long makes Dean choke on the tie, and Castiel pulls off, Dean's cock popping out of his mouth with a small, wet sound. It makes his eyes water, and Dean thinks he's going to die, never mind being more careful on the hunt, Castiel is going to kill him right fucking now because no human can need something this much and not get it and still be able to survive, that's what it means to need something, Dean has to have this or he'll die--
But Castiel does give it to him, more slowly this time but unrelentingly; hand palming his balls and rolling them between his fingers, lips and tongue dragging along his cock as Castiel bobs his head and sucks, up and down and up and down and up and down until Dean's screaming and sobbing and biting into the tie. The harder and harder Dean thrashes against the bonds, the harder and harder Castiel presses down on his mouth and the harder and harder he sucks. It doesn't stop until Dean's coming, and it's got to be the hardest he's ever come in his entire fucking life because he doesn't stop coming and pleasure like this is just isn't possible, pulse after endless pulse. It can never make him lose control completely but it does now, it does, and Dean is utterly helpless to do anything but give himself over to sheer ecstasy. He's dimly aware of Castiel's unblinking eyes on him the entire time, studying him through those goddamn glasses and watching him lose it, but he doesn't care because he can't and because it's Castiel.
When it's over a lifetime or a few seconds later, Dean is so sluggish he barely even registers Castiel removing the tie from his mouth, unstrapping his legs, pulling his pajamas bottoms up, and tucking him in gently. When Castiel's hands go for the buttons of his top, though, Dean knocks them away and whispers, just as sluggishly as he feels, "C'mere, get around me."
Castiel smiles and gets into bed with Dean likes he's been waiting for permission, and he curls his own body around Dean's, careful to avoid his wrists. Castiel holds him like he always holds him: like Dean is worth more than all the precious things in the world, and it makes Dean feel safe and content and loved, and like he's the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. He shifts to get closer and blinks at Castiel, blearily. There's something he wants to say, but it takes him a few languid moments to remember. When he does, it makes him smile. "I promise to be more careful," he whispers.
Castiel kisses him, fiercely, gently, and whispers back, "You better keep that promise, Dean Winchester, or next time I really will leave you strapped to the bed all night."
Dean smirks against his lips. "You shouldn't threaten me now, Doctor Cas, I'm sure even Clark Kent can't be taken seriously when he's got come on his glasses."
fin.
Oh, and yes, I realize Dean doesn't need to be hospitalized for sprained wrists, but pretend there's something else wrong with him too, okay? *facepalm*
Title: Glasses!Porn
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~2,600
Spoilers: None
Notes: This is how it happened:
strangeandcharm created a glorious 'verse called Superheroes in which Castiel falls and wears glasses, ran_cl manipped that, I iconed it, and nabichansaotome said, "Now I can't stop seeing Castiel with glasses, as in, giving Dean a blowjob while wearing glasses at that. I mean, really, who wants to see that?" (ME.) This shameless PWP is loosely set in the Superheroes 'verse (♥ to strangeandcharm).Summary: In which Castiel wears glasses and dresses up as a doctor to visit Dean in the hospital.
The worst thing about being stuck in a hospital with two sprained wrists, Dean decides, is not being able to rub one out when he wants to.
And he really, really wants to right now.
It's been three days, and Castiel always comes for visiting hours. But so does Sam, and Dean can't very well ask his brother to leave so he can beg Castiel for a quickie, can he? And anyway, Castiel might not even oblige, considering how unhappy he's been with Dean these past few days for getting himself hospitalized again for something even Dean admits was stupid. Even so, he came close today, when Castiel sat on the edge of his bed, near enough that the heat from his body made Dean's warm with desire. He was right here, intense blue eyes and softly curving lips and so familiar, every bit Dean's Castiel, the one who brought him to ecstasy every night with his hands and lips and body. Those same hands and lips and body were separated from Dean by only an inch of air and an inch of clothing, but Dean couldn't grab Castiel and press their open mouths together and shove off that trench coat because Sammy would be scarred for life. That, and his fucking wrists were sprained. So instead he rolled onto his side to avoid denting the sheets embarrassingly (but mostly to curl his body around Castiel's) and told them he was okay.
Fuck, Dean thinks, because the nurse shooed Castiel out half an hour ago and he's still hard. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to think about how firm Castiel's hands are, or how warm and wet his mouth is. So, he thinks about how firm Castiel's hands are, and how warm and wet his mouth is.
Dean groans and tries to touch himself under the sheets, but the sharp pain from his wrist makes him groan again.
It draws footsteps into the room, a doctor or nurse who probably wants to ask him if he's in pain. Dean keeps his eyes shut and pretends to be asleep because the last thing he wants is someone checking up on him right now.
But then there are firm hands on his shoulders, rolling him onto his back. Dean's whole body tenses and his eyes snap open, but his alarm catches in his throat and turns into surprise when he sees that it's Castiel. Then he sees that it's Castiel in a white lab coat, eyes narrow behind a pair of glasses and looking every bit the bookish doctor with his bookish clipboard, and opens his mouth to say something. But Castiel covers it with one hand, and whatever he was about to say gets lost anyway because Castiel's hand is just as firm as Dean remembers and it makes desire coil afresh somewhere low in his body.
Apparently satisfied that Dean will remain quiet, Castiel withdraws his hand and moves away to close the door, and Dean's thrill from the knowledge of what's about to happen battles his ache from the sudden loss of contact.
"Cas," he whispers, and then Castiel is back, clipboard gone and climbing onto the foot of Dean's bed and pushing his legs apart so he can settle into the vee between them. "What're you do--"
Castiel's eyes narrow slightly as he regards Dean, and his voice is low when he replies, "Teaching you a lesson."
"What less--" Dean cuts himself off with a small moan when Castiel presses his palm against the obvious dent in the sheets. He squirms under the touch and bucks, but meets empty air when Castiel pulls his hand back. Dean lets his hips fall back onto the bed with a small grunt of frustration.
"Call it a lesson in self preservation," Castiel replies calmly, and Dean has to bite his lip, hard, when Castiel puts his hand on him again, pushing his erection flat against his abdomen and stroking lazily up and down the length of its underside. Even through the pajamas and the sheets, the way Castiel's knuckles graze Dean's most sensitive areas feels fucking amazing, and his eyelids flutter in pleasure.
"More," he whispers insistently, but instead Castiel gives him less, hand pulling away again just as Dean tries to rub up against it as subtly as possible. "Goddammit, Cas," he swears under his breath, but Castiel ignores him.
He does peel the sheets away from Dean, though, and then his fingers slide under the waistband of Dean's pajamas and he shudders at the touch, at the way the fabric drags across his skin on the way down to bunch around his knees. Then his cock is free, finally, hard and ready to be touched, and Dean almost holds his breath waiting for it.
What happens instead is Castiel fishes around the side of the bed for something, and by the time Dean realizes what's going on, Castiel's already strapping his left leg down. "What the fuck," he hisses, trying to kick Castiel's hands away, and this time Castiel smirks.
"I can leave, if you prefer," he says mildly, and Dean glares furiously but holds still while Castiel finishes strapping down both legs. Whatever he's got planned, Dean's got no choice but to go along with it. He tests the straps and they're tight, but not uncomfortably so, and suddenly it sends a thrill of excitement through Dean, to be here in a hospital with his legs spread open and anchored to the bed and his hands just as useless, exposed so vulnerably and completely at Castiel's mercy. There's a part of him that fights it, still, because Dean has been at the mercy of far too many demons and other monsters and Alastair to be completely comfortable with this, but he looks at Castiel in his white lab coat and his glasses and thinks, I trust you.
Castiel stares back and a small smile momentarily softens his features. He bends down and Dean's breath hitches in anticipation, but those lips fall on the inside of Dean's thigh, as close to his knee as Castiel can get with the pajamas there. It's an open-mouthed kiss, warm and wet and Castiel even sucks a little, which makes Dean whimper because it's so good but so not in the right spot. Castiel kisses and sucks his way slowly up Dean's thigh, covering every inch except where the bed straps are in the way, but not even those inches of skin get ignored because Castiel's fingers slide under the straps to knead at Dean's flesh.
Dean's body starts quivering a tiny bit when Castiel's mouth gets closer and closer to where he wants them to be, to that sensitive dip between his thigh and pelvis, so close please please please, but of course Castiel moves back down again to start over on his other thigh. Bastard, Dean thinks as he groans softly, a mixture of frustration and pleasure because all this time Castiel's hands haven't once stopped carressing and massaging his legs. Castiel sucks harder this time, and when Dean looks down, he can actually watch his skin redden under Castiel's mouth. But what he really pays attention to is the wet fullness of Castiel's lips, his single-minded concentration on his task, and what wouldn't Dean give to have that kind of attention be paid to his cock, right fucking now? "Please," he says softly when Castiel draws near again. "Cas."
When Castiel's head moves lower a second time without even a single brush of lips against cock, it makes Dean want to scream in frustration. Except then those lips close around one of his balls and Castiel sucks it lightly into his mouth and there's even tongue, and Dean would moan and moan and moan if they weren't in a hospital where a nurse was liable to come in at any second. Castiel's mouth works the other one too, and then he moves to the base of Dean's erection, kissing and sucking just as he did with Dean's thighs. It's wet and glorious and sends jolt after jolt of pleasure through Dean's entire body, and as Castiel moves along the underside to the spot just below the head, Dean just wants to come right then. But it's not quite enough, and Castiel knows it, and after one final, lingering kiss to the head, he lifts Dean's hospital gown and moves on to his stomach.
"Come on, Cas, you son of a bitch," Dean growls as softly as he can, and he just wants to grab Castiel's head and push it back down, but his arms lie uselessly at his sides. Castiel dips his tongue into Dean's bellybutton and ignores him, but his lightly stubbled throat brushes against the head of Dean's cock, and it makes him shiver and want to dig in harder. The bed straps hold, and Dean can feel that son of a bitch smirk against his stomach.
The buttons on his hospital gown are undone one at a time, starting from the bottom, and Castiel pays so much loving attention to each new bit of skin revealed that Dean enjoys himself despite the throbbing ache of his neglected lower half. He loves being kissed all over like this, and he loves the way Castiel's hands stroke and carress his sides and ribs and nipples and collar bones and everything, like he hasn't already done this a hundred times; thoroughly, reverently, protectively, possessively. Dean may have shared his body with countless, but Dean is Castiel's, and they both know it. When Castiel's lips close around his throat, Dean arches his head back to offer him more.
One last press of lips to Dean's chin, and then Castiel's mouth is poised over Dean's, just as the rest of his body hovers above him, covering his own and so close Dean can feel the heat radiating off of Castiel all along the length of his bare skin, but not touching. His entire body is acutely aware of it and he strains against the bed straps in a vain attempt to press closer, but he can't even reach the lapels of Castiel's lab coat, and he can't have him. Only Castiel's tie pools in his throat, taunting him mercilessly.
"Please," he says weakly, staring imploringly up into Castiel's eyes over the rim of his glasses. "Please just touch me."
"Promise me you'll be more careful," Castiel commands. He doesn't move a hair.
"I promise!" Dean says desperately. "I promise, I promise, anything, please, Cas, touch me."
Castiel's eyes narrow, but he reaches between Dean's legs and his fingers finally, finally wrap around hard flesh and squeeze. Dean's moan disappears into Castiel's mouth as he hushes him. "Shhh," he whispers against Dean's lips, "You have to be quiet, Dean, or someone will come in and then I'll have to cover you up and leave you strapped here all night..."
Dean tries to glare, but his eyes go unfocused when Castiel's thumb starts to draw circles around the head of his cock, pausing only to press into that spot on the underside with each completed circle. Then he strokes the entire length twice, lazily, and it feels so good but Dean begs him for more by ravaging his mouth and battling his tongue with every bit of desperation he feels. Castiel pulls away after a second and all he can do is whimper in loss.
"I don't think I believe you, Dean," Castiel says, dangerously calm even as he drives Dean mad with a touch he knows is too light and too slow.
"What do you want me to say?" Dean hisses, and he can barely keep it together anymore. "I promise, I promise to be more careful, I promise I won't let you lose me, I promise! Please, just, please, Cas."
And Castiel smiles, suddenly, and plants a chaste kiss to Dean's mouth, his own promise. Then he pulls his tie over his head, knocking his glasses askew in the process, and Dean only has a moment to wonder wildly if that's more adorable or more sexy before Castiel squeezes him hard and his mouth opens on a low moan because despite his years of being quiet in the shower because Sam was always in the next room, Dean can't be quiet right now. Castiel seems to realize, because he takes advantage of Dean's open mouth to stuff it with his tie.
Dean's eyes go wide, but Castiel merely adjusts his glasses and covers Dean's mouth with a hand for good measure. Then he sinks down Dean's body and swallows his whole length in one go, something Dean will never figure out how he can do but also something for which he's infinitely grateful. The shock of complete and blinding pleasure after wanting for so long makes Dean choke on the tie, and Castiel pulls off, Dean's cock popping out of his mouth with a small, wet sound. It makes his eyes water, and Dean thinks he's going to die, never mind being more careful on the hunt, Castiel is going to kill him right fucking now because no human can need something this much and not get it and still be able to survive, that's what it means to need something, Dean has to have this or he'll die--
But Castiel does give it to him, more slowly this time but unrelentingly; hand palming his balls and rolling them between his fingers, lips and tongue dragging along his cock as Castiel bobs his head and sucks, up and down and up and down and up and down until Dean's screaming and sobbing and biting into the tie. The harder and harder Dean thrashes against the bonds, the harder and harder Castiel presses down on his mouth and the harder and harder he sucks. It doesn't stop until Dean's coming, and it's got to be the hardest he's ever come in his entire fucking life because he doesn't stop coming and pleasure like this is just isn't possible, pulse after endless pulse. It can never make him lose control completely but it does now, it does, and Dean is utterly helpless to do anything but give himself over to sheer ecstasy. He's dimly aware of Castiel's unblinking eyes on him the entire time, studying him through those goddamn glasses and watching him lose it, but he doesn't care because he can't and because it's Castiel.
When it's over a lifetime or a few seconds later, Dean is so sluggish he barely even registers Castiel removing the tie from his mouth, unstrapping his legs, pulling his pajamas bottoms up, and tucking him in gently. When Castiel's hands go for the buttons of his top, though, Dean knocks them away and whispers, just as sluggishly as he feels, "C'mere, get around me."
Castiel smiles and gets into bed with Dean likes he's been waiting for permission, and he curls his own body around Dean's, careful to avoid his wrists. Castiel holds him like he always holds him: like Dean is worth more than all the precious things in the world, and it makes Dean feel safe and content and loved, and like he's the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. He shifts to get closer and blinks at Castiel, blearily. There's something he wants to say, but it takes him a few languid moments to remember. When he does, it makes him smile. "I promise to be more careful," he whispers.
Castiel kisses him, fiercely, gently, and whispers back, "You better keep that promise, Dean Winchester, or next time I really will leave you strapped to the bed all night."
Dean smirks against his lips. "You shouldn't threaten me now, Doctor Cas, I'm sure even Clark Kent can't be taken seriously when he's got come on his glasses."
fin.
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Date: 2009-05-20 09:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-05-20 09:21 pm (UTC)