historically inaccurate but well-meaning t-rex (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scriveyner) wrote2008-12-06 10:39 am
scriveyner) wrote2008-12-06 10:39 am
Supernatural - Change [Destiel]
Title: Change
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1531
Summary: Castiel stood in the middle of the motel room, arms full of the clothes Sam had bought and looking mildly perturbed. "I do not understand why this is necessary," he said.
Castiel stood in the middle of the motel room, arms full of the clothes Sam had bought and looking mildly perturbed. "I do not understand why this is necessary," he said.
Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, remote control in one hand. "Because while you can heal yourself just fine, your clothes are shredded and you smell like you sleep in a cardboard box." After a moment, he changed the channel, and when Castiel hadn't moved he looked over at him with a disparaging expression on his face. "Go try them on at least, Sam took an entire damn afternoon dicking around looking for clothes to fit you."
"There are more important things to worry about, there is a seal in Hartsford that Lilith has been circling for a week. There is no time for foolishness." Castiel dropped the clothes on the bed, and vanished, leaving several trailing scraps of his jacket behind. Dean groaned, and didn't bother even getting up.
Nearly two hours later Castiel appeared again. Dean had worked his way from the edge of the bed to lying on it proper, propped up against the headboard and legs crossed as he watched a ballgame. Sam had the Impala and was laying a trail somewhere to the west to convince the demonic thugs Lilith had sent after them that they'd gone the opposite direction.
Castiel placed himself in Dean's direct line of sight, between the TV and the bed. "Dean," he said sternly, not quite to the point of yelling but getting there. "Are you going to ignore your obligation?"
"Get out of the way," Dean complained, chucking a pillow at Castiel.
Castiel caught the pillow and stared at it, then back at Dean. "You are acting like a child," he said.
"No shit, now move!" Dean leaned over and tried to angle himself so he could see around the angel, but Castiel completely blocked the set from view. "You're a jackass," he informed the angel.
"You're going to endanger the future of this entire plane because you want to pursue your childish psychological games with me," Castiel said.
"The Ichetor flower only blooms on the grave of the newly dead bathed in the light of a full moon," Dean said. "We're three hours outside of Hartsford, and the full moon is a week off."
Castiel paused, clearly not expecting Dean to be so well informed. Dean cocked a smug grin at the angel and pointed at the pile of clothes Castiel had left on the bed. "Now will you at least change? You leave more and more of your clothing behind every time you stop by." He held up some of the scraps that had fluttered to the ground last time. "Your forgot these."
The angel peered down at his torn coat and fraying slacks. "I suppose you might have a point," he said finally.
Dean watched with satisfaction as Castiel picked through the pile of clothing, selecting a few things and then started to loosen his tie. After a moment Dean realized Castiel was going to get undressed right there he hopped up off the bed. "Cas, we have a bathroom for that."
Castiel shot Dean a strange look. "You undress in the same room as your brother."
"That's not the same thing, we're brothers and- wait, have you been watching me undress? That's fucking CREEPY, Cas." He shuddered. "It's not the same thing. Bathroom. Go." He gave the angel a light push, and Castiel obediently vanished into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Dean stood for a moment, bouncing on the balls of his feet before sitting back down on the bed. Interest lost in the ball game, he started clicking through channels trying to find something interesting.
Castiel was gone so long that Dean forgot he was even in the bathroom. The skin channel was showing crappy soft-core porn again, but it was at least mildly better than the rest of the programming on the approximately twelve channels that the motel got. Dean contented himself on counting the number of fake tits he saw.
The door creaked open and Dean glanced up, one hand settled over himself. "I do not know if I like this," Castiel muttered, twisting slightly, obviously uncomfortable in the clothing that Sam had picked out for him.
It wasn't anything special, just a tee shirt and jeans - Dean couldn't fathom what had taken Castiel forever in the bathroom - but he carried a few other pieces of clothing in his hands so he had obviously tried on other things. Dean watched Castiel half turn, dropping the unacceptable pieces on the bed and realized with a start precisely how tight the jeans were over his ass.
Dean started running his hand lightly over his crotch, trying not to move much so not to draw Castiel's attention to the fact that he was rubbing himself. The angel had retreated back into the bathroom - oh hell, Dean thought, watching him walk in those pants - and returned with what remained of his original clothing. He looked at Dean inquisitively.
"We'll burn it," Dean said suddenly, hopping to his feet. Something, anything to keep his mind off of Castiel's suddenly very visible, very attractive posterior.
"That's hardly necessary," Castiel said. He frowned at the TV, where a woman was writhing on the screen, ass in the air and getting plowed from behind, then glanced over at Dean. "You were watching pornography?"
"NO! I just was- wait, you know what porn is?" Dean stopped halfway to the door, confused by this.
"I know a lot of things," Castiel said evenly.
"I think I would be happier if I didn't know that you knew," Dean said after a moment. He stared at Castiel, then swallowed and looked away. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, and balled the abandoned clothes into a wad before throwing them in the garbage can.
"These jeans are not very comfortable," Castiel said after a long moment. "As you are intent on destroying my perfectly serviceable belongings, can we perhaps locate a pair that isn't quite so tight?"
"YES." Dean said without hesitation. "We'll have to wait until Sammy comes back but we'll get you the next size up or something."
"I suppose I'll have to wait for your brother to return," Castiel said with a grimace. Without another word he began to shimmy out of the jeans, having obviously had enough - and Dean almost choked.
"CAS!" He couldn't find words for a second. "Why are you commando?!"
The angel looked down at himself. "I do not understand that term," he said. "I stripped of all my clothes, like you requested."
"Underwear," Dean said weakly, one hand clapped over his eyes. "You're supposed to be wearing underwear..." Now, of course, his own jeans had gotten way too tight. This was spiraling very quickly out of his control. "Please put the jeans back on," he said finally, in a strangled voice.
Castiel was watching his reaction with interest. "You're aroused by the fact I'm not wearing pants." If anything, the angel seemed mildly amused by this revelation.
"Yes, fuck, I am please, please, put the jeans back on." Dean turned his back on Castiel and the TV picked the wrong time to start moaning even more emphatically. He snarled, half turned to grope blindly for the remote, and realized that Castiel had seated himself on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing over his dick curiously.
Dean might have squeaked. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
"My body seems to be reacting," Castiel said, his voice calm as ever but a steady flush starting across his face. "I'm not sure why that is." There was a slight break in the last word as his squeezed his own dick, and a surprised expression crossed Castiel's face, melting slightly into bliss.
Dean rocked on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do. There was a half-naked angel sitting on the edge of his bed starting to jerk off and, and fuck he had already been damned once. Dean dropped to his knees before the angel, one hand tugging Castiel's hand off his hardening cock and the other pressing his thighs further apart.
He took the erection into his mouth, groaning around it and sucking the surprised Castiel off. Castiel's free hand fell to Dean's shoulder in shock, tightening on his arm as he bent over him. Dean released his wrist, pushing his own jeans open without hesitation, shoving his hand down into his boxers and jerking himself off at the same time.
Castiel made small little breathy noises as Dean sucked, licked and fondled him until the angel shuddered, coming into Dean's mouth, fingers curling into his shoulder so hard they were sure to leave fresh marks.
Dean wiped his hand on his pants leg, taking a shuddering breath and falling back on his ass, into the side of the other bed. He wiped the side of his mouth, the salty bitter taste of Castiel still on his tongue and said shakily "yeah, we'll get you a new pair of pants."
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1531
Summary: Castiel stood in the middle of the motel room, arms full of the clothes Sam had bought and looking mildly perturbed. "I do not understand why this is necessary," he said.
Castiel stood in the middle of the motel room, arms full of the clothes Sam had bought and looking mildly perturbed. "I do not understand why this is necessary," he said.
Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, remote control in one hand. "Because while you can heal yourself just fine, your clothes are shredded and you smell like you sleep in a cardboard box." After a moment, he changed the channel, and when Castiel hadn't moved he looked over at him with a disparaging expression on his face. "Go try them on at least, Sam took an entire damn afternoon dicking around looking for clothes to fit you."
"There are more important things to worry about, there is a seal in Hartsford that Lilith has been circling for a week. There is no time for foolishness." Castiel dropped the clothes on the bed, and vanished, leaving several trailing scraps of his jacket behind. Dean groaned, and didn't bother even getting up.
Nearly two hours later Castiel appeared again. Dean had worked his way from the edge of the bed to lying on it proper, propped up against the headboard and legs crossed as he watched a ballgame. Sam had the Impala and was laying a trail somewhere to the west to convince the demonic thugs Lilith had sent after them that they'd gone the opposite direction.
Castiel placed himself in Dean's direct line of sight, between the TV and the bed. "Dean," he said sternly, not quite to the point of yelling but getting there. "Are you going to ignore your obligation?"
"Get out of the way," Dean complained, chucking a pillow at Castiel.
Castiel caught the pillow and stared at it, then back at Dean. "You are acting like a child," he said.
"No shit, now move!" Dean leaned over and tried to angle himself so he could see around the angel, but Castiel completely blocked the set from view. "You're a jackass," he informed the angel.
"You're going to endanger the future of this entire plane because you want to pursue your childish psychological games with me," Castiel said.
"The Ichetor flower only blooms on the grave of the newly dead bathed in the light of a full moon," Dean said. "We're three hours outside of Hartsford, and the full moon is a week off."
Castiel paused, clearly not expecting Dean to be so well informed. Dean cocked a smug grin at the angel and pointed at the pile of clothes Castiel had left on the bed. "Now will you at least change? You leave more and more of your clothing behind every time you stop by." He held up some of the scraps that had fluttered to the ground last time. "Your forgot these."
The angel peered down at his torn coat and fraying slacks. "I suppose you might have a point," he said finally.
Dean watched with satisfaction as Castiel picked through the pile of clothing, selecting a few things and then started to loosen his tie. After a moment Dean realized Castiel was going to get undressed right there he hopped up off the bed. "Cas, we have a bathroom for that."
Castiel shot Dean a strange look. "You undress in the same room as your brother."
"That's not the same thing, we're brothers and- wait, have you been watching me undress? That's fucking CREEPY, Cas." He shuddered. "It's not the same thing. Bathroom. Go." He gave the angel a light push, and Castiel obediently vanished into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Dean stood for a moment, bouncing on the balls of his feet before sitting back down on the bed. Interest lost in the ball game, he started clicking through channels trying to find something interesting.
Castiel was gone so long that Dean forgot he was even in the bathroom. The skin channel was showing crappy soft-core porn again, but it was at least mildly better than the rest of the programming on the approximately twelve channels that the motel got. Dean contented himself on counting the number of fake tits he saw.
The door creaked open and Dean glanced up, one hand settled over himself. "I do not know if I like this," Castiel muttered, twisting slightly, obviously uncomfortable in the clothing that Sam had picked out for him.
It wasn't anything special, just a tee shirt and jeans - Dean couldn't fathom what had taken Castiel forever in the bathroom - but he carried a few other pieces of clothing in his hands so he had obviously tried on other things. Dean watched Castiel half turn, dropping the unacceptable pieces on the bed and realized with a start precisely how tight the jeans were over his ass.
Dean started running his hand lightly over his crotch, trying not to move much so not to draw Castiel's attention to the fact that he was rubbing himself. The angel had retreated back into the bathroom - oh hell, Dean thought, watching him walk in those pants - and returned with what remained of his original clothing. He looked at Dean inquisitively.
"We'll burn it," Dean said suddenly, hopping to his feet. Something, anything to keep his mind off of Castiel's suddenly very visible, very attractive posterior.
"That's hardly necessary," Castiel said. He frowned at the TV, where a woman was writhing on the screen, ass in the air and getting plowed from behind, then glanced over at Dean. "You were watching pornography?"
"NO! I just was- wait, you know what porn is?" Dean stopped halfway to the door, confused by this.
"I know a lot of things," Castiel said evenly.
"I think I would be happier if I didn't know that you knew," Dean said after a moment. He stared at Castiel, then swallowed and looked away. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, and balled the abandoned clothes into a wad before throwing them in the garbage can.
"These jeans are not very comfortable," Castiel said after a long moment. "As you are intent on destroying my perfectly serviceable belongings, can we perhaps locate a pair that isn't quite so tight?"
"YES." Dean said without hesitation. "We'll have to wait until Sammy comes back but we'll get you the next size up or something."
"I suppose I'll have to wait for your brother to return," Castiel said with a grimace. Without another word he began to shimmy out of the jeans, having obviously had enough - and Dean almost choked.
"CAS!" He couldn't find words for a second. "Why are you commando?!"
The angel looked down at himself. "I do not understand that term," he said. "I stripped of all my clothes, like you requested."
"Underwear," Dean said weakly, one hand clapped over his eyes. "You're supposed to be wearing underwear..." Now, of course, his own jeans had gotten way too tight. This was spiraling very quickly out of his control. "Please put the jeans back on," he said finally, in a strangled voice.
Castiel was watching his reaction with interest. "You're aroused by the fact I'm not wearing pants." If anything, the angel seemed mildly amused by this revelation.
"Yes, fuck, I am please, please, put the jeans back on." Dean turned his back on Castiel and the TV picked the wrong time to start moaning even more emphatically. He snarled, half turned to grope blindly for the remote, and realized that Castiel had seated himself on the edge of the bed, his hand rubbing over his dick curiously.
Dean might have squeaked. "What the fuck are you doing?!"
"My body seems to be reacting," Castiel said, his voice calm as ever but a steady flush starting across his face. "I'm not sure why that is." There was a slight break in the last word as his squeezed his own dick, and a surprised expression crossed Castiel's face, melting slightly into bliss.
Dean rocked on the balls of his feet, unsure of what to do. There was a half-naked angel sitting on the edge of his bed starting to jerk off and, and fuck he had already been damned once. Dean dropped to his knees before the angel, one hand tugging Castiel's hand off his hardening cock and the other pressing his thighs further apart.
He took the erection into his mouth, groaning around it and sucking the surprised Castiel off. Castiel's free hand fell to Dean's shoulder in shock, tightening on his arm as he bent over him. Dean released his wrist, pushing his own jeans open without hesitation, shoving his hand down into his boxers and jerking himself off at the same time.
Castiel made small little breathy noises as Dean sucked, licked and fondled him until the angel shuddered, coming into Dean's mouth, fingers curling into his shoulder so hard they were sure to leave fresh marks.
Dean wiped his hand on his pants leg, taking a shuddering breath and falling back on his ass, into the side of the other bed. He wiped the side of his mouth, the salty bitter taste of Castiel still on his tongue and said shakily "yeah, we'll get you a new pair of pants."