Supernatural - Dalliance [Destiel]

[scriveyner]

Title: Dalliance
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NSFW/E
Length: 1575
Summary: Smut.

It was almost a month before Dean saw Castiel again, and it was in the company of his pet subordinate, Uriel. Just directions, a seal that they had to secure before Lilith broke, but Dean jerked a little when Castiel's cold blue eyes settled on him. Sam had stared at him funny when they got stiffly into the Impala, but Dean cracked a few lame jokes and Sam dropped it. For now.

Dean wondered if Castiel brought Uriel along for protection.

They defeated the curling, creeping beastie that guarded the seal, some kind of cryptozoologist's wet dream - and retrieved the seal. There were still more broken, more destroyed than saved but they were slowly starting to even the score. Dean thought he saw actual gratitude in Castiel's eyes when he handed the thing off.

They went to a bar, just Sam and Dean, to celebrate but this time it was Sam being tugged out of their booth to dance with a hot girl, Dean shook his head in disinterest. Sam kept shooting him these Looks, looks like 'what happened' and 'we are SO talking about this later,' but then he was preoccupied with the woman in front of him and Dean was kicking back his beer and thinking about piercing blue eyes in an intense stare.

Dean gave up and left Sam behind, with the girls and returned to an empty, cold motel room. Or not so empty, as he walked out of the bathroom, toilet flushing behind him. Castiel was seated in one of the uncomfortable chairs the room provided, elbows braced on his knees and staring very intently at the floor. He glanced up when Dean stopped, and then resumed his stare at the floor.

"Another seal so soon?" Dean asked gruffly, dropping the magazine he had taken to the bathroom with him in the duffel.

"No," Castiel said softly.

"Then what the hell are you here for?" Dean dropped onto the bed, picking up the remote and flipping the TV to some crappy late-night comedy show. Castiel looked back down at the floor, at his clasped hands and was silent. Dean passed him a glance but didn't say anything, and the pair of them sat in silence as the minutes ticked on.

Finally aggravated Dean sat up and stared at Castiel, who after a moment raised his eyes to Dean's. "What are you here for?" Dean asked.

"I'm here because I want to be," Castiel murmured, his blue eyes suddenly looking... strangely warm. Dean swallowed suddenly, not knowing how to process the look that Castiel was giving him.

"Cas," he started but then he didn't even see the angel stand up, one moment he was sitting slightly hunched over himself, the next he was standing directly in front of Dean. He swallowed hard, unsure of what precisely was going on. Maybe the angel had finally come to smite him....

Castiel placed one hand, oddly heavy, on Dean's head and closed his eyes, exhaling. "Cas," Dean murmured, his own eyes lifting to the angel's face. He gently shrugged the hand off his head, wrapping one hand around the angel's wrist and tugged it to his face. Castiel's eyes opened and he watched, almost fascinated, as his fingers brushed over Dean's face, across the bridge of his nose and over the sandpaper-rough stubble that Dean hadn't had a chance to shave since their latest hunt began.

Dean's hand dropped away from Castiel's and Castiel explored his face, rough fingers pushing and prodding and smoothing over skin and hair and eyelids. His fingers lingered a moment on Dean's lips and his tongue darted out, swiped across the digit and Castiel withdrew his hand, startled.

He laughed and grabbed Castiel's wrist again, tugging him down and this time when their lips met Castiel was truly the instigator. He explored Dean's mouth with his tongue and Dean wrapped his arms around the angel's shoulders and when they broke apart Dean panted into his cheek.

"Dean," Castiel said, maybe he groaned it. One of his hands was curled around the back of Dean's skull. "I don't understand this," he murmured, his nose practically touching Dean's.

"It's called lust," Dean murmured back. Castiel had pushed him back onto the bed, his weight heavy across Dean, pressing him down into the mattress. "Welcome to being human, Cas," Dean said, his hand snaking around Castiel's back and firmly groping his ass.

Castiel bit just under Dean's jaw and sucked at the spot, smoothing the sudden pain over with his tongue. Dean laughed but it came out more a groan than an actual chuckle. Castiel withdrew, his eyes reflecting sympathy. "I cannot do this," he whispered. his hair already more disheveled and a bruise already forming where Dean had bit him in return.

Dean propped himself up on his elbows and watched Castiel withdraw, disappointed. The angel did not leave, though, and stood warily with his back against the wall, watching Dean's every move like a hawk. He sat up, ran a hand through his short hair, then looked up at Castiel. The burning feeling was coming back, in his stomach, like it had with the allu, just... muted. "Why not?"

"The angelic host does not dally with humans," Castiel's voice was hoarse. "Carnal affairs are left to the mortal realm, we need no such pleasures of the flesh."

He glanced at Castiel's slacks, loose though they may be there was definitely a party happening there. "Seems to me you're in the mortal realm now," Dean said philosophically. "And you're currently flesh, why not try a little bit of everything now that you're here?"

Dean cocked his legs out, drawing them up so his heels dug in the mattress and scooting himself to the center of the bed. "If you don't want anything else," Dean groaned, cupping himself with one hand through his jeans. "Don't mind me while I jack off."

Castiel made a little sound like he was dying and then he was beside the bed, watching as Dean wriggled his jeans and boxers down on his hips, freeing his erection with his other hand, wrapped it loosely around the base of his cock and began to run his fingers up and down it.

He closed his eyes, head pushed back into the coverlet as he drew his hand up and down quickly. Abruptly Castiel's hand covered his on his cock and he opened his eyes in time to see Castiel leaning down over it, eyes so wide they were almost reflective. Then slowly, carefully Castiel's tongue darted out, swiping across the head of Dean's cock experimentally. Dean couldn't release his hand with Castiel's on top of it but now it was Dean's turn to make a high-pitched grunt, pushing his hips up against the forces on top of him and pressing the head of his cock against Castiel's lips.

Castiel licked him again, a little scrape of teeth while he tried to figure out if he could take Dean into his mouth but then he released his hand and Dean let it fall back to the bedspread. "Fuck," he breathed reverently as Castiel took him in.

For an angel Castiel seemed remarkably good at using his mouth. Dean clung to his shoulder, one hand tangled in his hair and oh fuck he was going to come down Castiel's throat. He maneuvered Castiel, once started he was as enthusiastic about sucking Dean off as anyone he'd ever met - and brought the angel up on the bed with him. Lying flat he pulled the angel on top of him and once Castiel figured out this angle wasn't all bad his mouth fell on to Dean's dick again.

Dean tugged his slacks down, freeing Castiel's own erection from his underwear and watching it hang above him, heavy and leaking. He tugged Castiel's hips down so he could run his tongue over his balls before wrapping one hand around his cock and squeezing it. Castiel choked and whimpered around his mouthful and Dean took Castiel's dick into his mouth as well he could, gently sucking it down and returning the favor, both hands clinging tight to Castiel's hips.

It didn't take very much longer, Dean had been ready to go off like a pistol shot but he held it in until he felt like he was going to explode and everything was tinged in a slight halo of light. His fingers dug into Castiel's thighs as he shot off into the angel's mouth and down his throat, making a deflated sound as he did so.

The angel growled and swung a leg over Dean's dazed head, reversing himself so he straddled Dean's chest, pushing his still-hard cock against Dean's face until he came back to himself enough to open his mouth, letting Castiel fuck his mouth with swift, broad strokes, lips already bruised. Castiel was as turned on as he was, he came just as quickly, bent over Dean's chest and head and eyes squeezed shut, askew tie falling across Dean's forehead as he trembled.

Castiel didn't so much roll off of Dean as he fell, over on his side next to Dean on the mattress. Dean laughed quietly at the glazed expression on his face, helped him wipe off and tuck himself away and then to his surprise he fell asleep there, head cradled to Castiel's chest, bathed in the cold glow of the TV set.