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Usually, when they are hooking up everything is fast, sloppy, loud and mostly for the mere purpose of getting off together, Dean inside Castiel or viceversa, both panting loudly until one reaches that point, his vision becomes blurry and they lie next to each other more relaxed, cheeks redder and their breath becomes steady.
Other days, nevertheless, everything is slower. They had finished a difficult haunt, or Cas has things to do, and they don’t have time together alone for days. Sam doesn’t mind letting them the room and going somewhere, but they know they can’t be always turning their backs on him, he doesn’t deserve that and they aren’t a couple of teenagers willing for touches and being the cheesiest, most unbearable people in the room. So, when they can be together for hours, they take their time, they can make out for a long while and then they can have sex, holding each other hands, breathing quietly, exploring the other.
However, today Sam is gone. He has a date with some girl they saved a few days ago, and he leaves the room before Dean gets too excited and starts to give his brother a few tips. When the door is loudly closed, Castiel drops Dean’s mobile phone in the coffee table and goes straight to Dean, who is waiting for him with his arms wide opened. They don’t say a word, just letting the time flow, listening to Dean’s heartbeat while they hold each other tightly. Dean has been unusually quiet since they burned the victims, but Castiel doesn’t want to push him.
Haunting isn’t a smooth profession, haunting is risking your life every day. They are good and they know what they are doing, but it doesn’t mean everything is walking over a cloud. The wounds are deep, not only physically, but also psychologically. Dean doesn’t want to think what would happen if Castiel wasn’t there, he doesn’t think what would happened if that phantom had took him instead of that innocent student.
Dean avoids the ‘what if’ questions, and he doesn’t realize Castiel doesn’t.
Castiel is not like those egocentric people he always end knowing even if he doesn’t want to, because it’s a thing which comes with the job. Castiel is different, Castiel overthinks too much.
He doesn’t realize it until he does. And it hurts, fuck if it hurts. He’s been too busy pushing those thoughts back in his mind; he hasn’t seen his angel struggling against them by himself. He cares about him, he’s said he needs him, but does Castiel need Dean?
Dean squeezes tighter Castiel and rests his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulder before cupping his head and kissing him tenderly, pushing a little with his tongue and sighing softly. Normally he would be rough, he would be already hard and Castiel would be panting against his tongue, but today it feels different.
Dean takes Castiel’s wrists and leads him to the bed after kissing him slowly, letting their tongues meet and dance calmly. The angel is looking at him curious, but doesn’t say anything; he just lets himself be seated over the ugly, orange bedspread. He knows what is happening, because he remembers Dean, Sam and two students inside a circle made of salt, and he remembers himself and another student outside the circle, running to reach it. He remembers that angry phantom dragging the student, but it could have been him. He could have been the one killed that night and he lowers his eyes, breaking the contact with Dean’s. He can’t avoid feeling a little bit guilty inside.
The taller one seems to know what he’s overthinking, and cups his head again, like he had done before, but this time he kisses him roughly, pushing Castiel against the bed.
Dean lifts off his tight t-shirt and throws it away; he doesn’t care where it has landed, he’s too busy watching Castiel’s lustful gaze drinking his well-built body. Castiel lifts a hand and brushes Dean’s torso while the other man is removing his usual trench coat and unbuttoning the white, soft t-shirt carefully. Dean usually rips off the simple shirt, but today he takes off each sleeve leaving the signs of his fingertips against Castiel’s arms soft skin.
They both climb their big bed completely; Dean straddles Castiel and lets him unfasten his jeans, wrapping Castiel’s wrists with his own hands and bringing them to the black, little buttons and the long, golden zip. He takes Castiel’s wrists with one hand this time and puts them over his head, resting in the soft pillow. They don’t break eye contact when Dean releases his grip and moves his own hands to unbutton Castiel’s black pants, and they both release a breath while Dean finalizes undressing them, not allowing his angel do anything.
Dean kneels between Castiel’s spread legs and realizes his boyfriend is already half-hard, looking at him wanton, which makes him chuckle proudly. Castiel whimpers when Dean leans forward until he can touch Castiel’s inner thigh with the tip of his tongue. He draws a little road with it, kissing open-mouthed when he reaches his black, tight, boxers at the thin fabric. While sliding his rough, calloused hands against Castiel’s thighs, he nuzzles his boyfriend’s now hard cock, and is able to feel a little damp that spot, which makes him smile shyly. Dean lifts up his head and continues drawing a way with his tongue, ignoring Castiel’s whimpers and quiet moans. Dean crosses Castiel’s favorite spots, biting a little at one of his more noticeable ribs; he kisses tenderly his right side, leaving little bruises, making Castiel lift his hips and pant with desperation. When he reaches Cas’ left nipple, he pinches it with his teeth and raises his head a little, looking at him through his thick eyelashes, enjoying the sight of Castiel biting at his own raised arm to muffle a loudly moan. He can’t help smiling a little because he feels very good making Castiel gasp for air in that way.
When his lips touch Castiel’s, he’s still sliding his hands over him, but this time they are in Castiel’s arms, tracing his barely noticeably muscles with his fingertips until they, finally, arrive at his angel’s chin and cups it affectionately.
They continue kissing softly, letting their tongues dance gently and hump a little through their boxers, making both moan shamelessly in each other’s mouths. Dean can feel himself hard, and suddenly he can feel perfectly Castiel’s hard on, because the angel has ripped out their underwear. Dean lifts his eyebrows but reaches out a lubricant little bottle Castiel usually carries in his trench coat’s pockets.
At the same time he has to avoid Castiel’s eyes to putting lube in both of his hands, the angel decides to look at their long cocks, both wider, redder and dripping pre come, thinking this is one of the most erotic sights he’s ever seen. He likes Dean’s cock, and it feels very good trusting into his mouth or his asshole.
Castiel spreads his legs opener, and adjusts himself against the mattress, releasing little whimpers of impatience. Dean has warmed up the lube in his hands, so he puts two fingers against Castiel’s flush, needy asshole and starts to trust roughly while leaning forward for kissing Castiel’s tip of his cock and bite at his cheeks. He adds another finger quickly, enjoying the shameless moans which are filling his ears and brushing his middle finger against Castiel’s oversensitive nub.
Dean lifts up a little and looks at Castiel directly, who nods quickly and pushes himself against the lubed fingers. The tallest one removes the fingers before making love to Dean without stop the kissing and caressing over all his body. He pushes roughly once more until he feels himself over the edge, and takes Castiel’s hands again. After putting them between their flushed, sweaty bodies, Dean confesses what he’s been thinking about all week:
“I love you, Castiel”