There’s no reason to be quiet, really; no one to wake if they’re not. Still, Castiel’s lips are pressed to the curve of Dean’s ear, his voice a ragged whisper as he pleads “more, Dean” and “please touch me”. Never one to deny Castiel anything, Dean reaches between their bare bodies and takes both their cocks in one hand as he steadies himself on the other elbow and rolls his hips downward.
Castiel’s harsh breaths turn to soft whimpers when Dean squeezes, the heads of their cocks sliding together. More whispers fill Dean’s head, a chorus of frantic “yes" and "please”. The desperate words and the sinuous arch of Castiel’s body beneath his light a white-hot fire in the pit of Dean’s belly, need that sends his hips stuttering erratically and tightens his chest as they both fuck off-rhythm into the slick circle of his fingers.
"I’m so close," Dean growls, his lips brushing Castiel’s earlobe. Cas shudders and twists and grabs two handfuls of Dean’s ass to pull him down harder. After another struggling breath, Dean adds, "Wanna feel you come, Cas."
A panted moan breaks from Castiel’s lips and Dean knows he can’t hold off much longer. With clenched teeth, he closes his eyes, listening to the choked off whimpers stifled against his shoulder as Castiel’s legs tangle with his own for leverage, his thrusts into Dean’s fist short and quick. Cas barely gets the whispered “close” out before his body tightens and his cock thickens in Dean’s hand.
A splash of hot come into the space between their bodies and Castiel’s grunts of pleasure against the side of his neck tips Dean over the edge close behind. He ruts down, stroking their cocks together with trembling fingers as he finds Castiel’s lips for a searing kiss between broken groans. Dean thrusts, hard and quick, grinding and squeezing his cock as the fire breaks from his belly up his spine and down his legs, his own come a hot, sticky addition to Castiel’s mess.
Castiel’s reverently whispered “Dean, Dean" almost gets lost in mix of harsh breath and Dean’s not-so-quiet moans; his hands are clumsy as they move up Dean’s back and to his face. In the dim glow of the alarm clock, all Dean can see is Castiel’s sated smile and ruffled hair as he whispers, "Cas.”
Ladies and gentlemen, Supernatural VFX coordinator.
and me :)
just wanted to say - if you want to keep this conversation going with ryan, be my guest and you’re more than welcome to comment on my tweets too. just please don’t attack him or call him names or generally put him down, because that’s just the kind of thing that makes people with opinons like this feel like they were right all along and that we’re all just ‘crazy feminazis’.
Tuesday's child is full of grace. (Tues. 20th August 1974)
Castiel is walking through the bunker unawares, his mind working over a particularly cryptic Enochian rock etching when Dean strikes. He comes out of nowhere; the full force of his muscular frame slamming Castiel’s back against the concrete wall so hard it knocks the breath right out of him. His first reaction is a panicked twist in his gut, fists half-clenched as he tries to assess the threat, body reeling from the rough handling.
Before he’s caught his breath, though, rough hands are grabbing at the button on his jeans and trying to untuck his shirt at the same time. Dean’s green gaze is wide and dark and locked on his own. Castiel’s panic subsides to confusion, but he doesn’t have a chance to say anything before Dean’s lips descend on his in a hard, head-spinningly fierce kiss. It’s all so sudden, Dean’s tongue teasing and testing, the kiss stealing away what little air Castiel has managed to hang onto.
The part of Castiel’s brain that’s always on the lookout for danger, the little instinctual compass that points toward what passes for appropriate behavior scratches at the base of his skull, pushing him to try to inch toward the bedroom door with Dean in tow. Dean obviously has other ideas; his thigh is pressed up hard between Castiel’s, grinding against his cock as they share another breathless kiss and then another. Cas doesn’t think he’s ever gotten so hard so fast - as far as he can think, that is.
It’s all over when Dean’s fingers finally slip under Castiel’s shirt; rough-skinned and strong and grabbing at the bare skin of his waist to push him harder into the wall. Without the ability to breathe or think, he reaches up and grabs Dean’s face in both hands, pulling him into a deeper kiss, bitten lips and slowburn tonguefucking and growls of pleasure that never leave the safety of their locked lips. Dean’s fingertips dip below the waistband of Castiel’s jeans, drawing an impatient, choked off little moan from Castiel’s lips.
When Dean breaks off, his lips absent for a scant second before finding Castiel’s neck, Cas is pretty sure he’s gonna explode with the need for relief from the press of Dean’s thigh. His fingers twist in Dean’s hair, the fact that they’re in the middle of the hallway where they could be caught at any moment completely forgotten as he gasps for air and tries to coax Dean to his knees. A sudden flood of desperate need surges up from the pit of Castiel’s stomach when Dean doesn’t budge, lips and tongue instead working at the tender skin of Castiel’s throat until his breath comes in half-voiced whimpers.
Castiel is trembling, pulled tight with anticipation by the time Dean pulls away, struggling to breathe while he straightens his own clothes. He licks his lips, letting his gaze settle on Castiel’s, then smirks and turns to walk away; back off in the direction of the kitchen. Cas stands, dazed and shivering and trying to catch his breath as he watches Dean swagger away, hips swaying distractingly. His cock aches, his underwear is soaked with precome, and his head is still clouded with the desire to drag Dean to the bedroom; but, his legs are too rubbery to follow through.
Just before Dean turns the corner at the end of the hallway, he calls back over his shoulder in a singsong (if completely breathless and wrecked) voice, “That’s repayment for interrupting my shower this morning.”
Dean stumbled back a step when he collided with a solid, warm body. An apology was already on his lips when he glanced up to see a very familiar pair of bright blue eyes. He flushed automatically and started to say something in response until he realized it wasn’t Jimmy in front of him.
good GOD this is hot
Many celebrities act so entitled they think everyone should be at their beck and call and act like divas until they get their own way and then there’s Jensen never complaining, borrowing tools to fix problems himself just another small sign of how freakin cool he is.
By the way this reddit thread is entertaining, its a bunch of guys trying and failing to be “no homo” about Jensen.