Work Text:
“I’ve returned from my mission, my prince.”
Dean jumped. He could never get used to the way that Castiel entered soundlessly, his superhuman senses and unnatural grace allowing him to appear behind Dean without making a sound. Castiel had taken the secret door to his private study, as was his habit, and still Dean felt like he’d been unfairly snuck up on.
“And? Was it successful?” Dean asked hopefully. He looked up from a desk littered in maps, reports, missives, and drafts of laws and edicts to take in the sight of Castiel. The latter looked weary from a long journey, but unhurt, and Dean sighed in relief. It may only have been a journey of several days, and Castiel may be impervious to most dangers that could kill a human, but still nothing could prevent him from feeling like a burden had fallen from his shoulders every time Castiel returned.
Castiel nodded, withdrawing the folded parchment that had been the reason for his journey from his cloak and placing it upon Dean’s desk.
“They agreed to your proposal, and outline several modest requests,” he explained.
“Thanks, Cas.”
He rose from his large, high-backed chair, dropping all pretense of being princely and business-like. “I missed you,” he admitted. Castiel had only been gone a number of days, but to Dean, even one without him was too long.
“Me as well,” Castiel agreed.
They kissed, their approach to each other a perfectly choreographed move, performed in a well-practiced unison that culminated in the meeting of their lips. Dean dug his fingers into Castiel’s clothing, pulling him closer, while Castiel retaliated, backing him into a wall and continuing to kiss him breathless while his fingers searched for the buttons of his shirt.
“Cas,” Dean gasped as soon as the other man parted their lips.
“Hmm?” Castiel was perfectly composed himself, not needing to breathe like Dean did, and his fingers were occupied with divesting Dean’s shoulders of his shirt.
“Well, are you going to kiss or drink?” he demanded.
Castiel smiled. “Both.”
His eyes, Dean noticed, were reddened slightly at the edges – the first hints of that predatory look that Dean knew so well.
Dean returned his smile. “You haven’t fed since you left?” he asked.
Castiel shook his head. “No, my prince. I would never take from anyone but you.”
“I know. I just like hearing it,” he admitted.
They breathed for a second, looking at each other silently before Castiel leaned in, his lips seeking Dean’s neck.
“Wait.” Dean’s voice interrupted him just as Castiel’s lips met his skin. Castiel froze, withdrawing to look into Dean’s eyes for his next command. Waiting, as the red crept further into his eyes.
“There’s a better position for this,” Dean explained. He loved being the one to satisfy Castiel, surrendering his body to Castiel’s needs, but experience had taught him that he was unlikely to remain standing if they continued like this.
Castiel stepped back, raising his eyebrows inquisitively.
Dean led him over to the wide sofa, a piece of furniture Dean had insisted on having in his study. He pushed Castiel down onto it, relishing the way the stronger man allowed himself to be manhandled. Castiel waited patiently as Dean settled between his legs, back to chest.
“Like this,” Dean explained, tilting his head to offer Castiel the most comfortable angle.
“As you wish,” Castiel murmured, his lips tracing the curve of Dean’s neck. He always left a trail of kisses before he drank, staying his lips for an extra second at the point where Dean’s artery pulsed beneath his skin before sinking his teeth in.
Dean let out a slow breath. No matter how many times they’d done this, with Castiel holding him close as he took what he needed, the first moment, that sharp sting always surprised him. He let his eyes flutter closed, leaning back against Castiel as the vampire drank.
It was almost painless after the first few seconds, and Dean didn’t know if it was his body reacting or perhaps some special means creatures like Castiel had to tame their prey as they drank, but the sting of sharp teeth sinking in dissipated. He felt the open wound Castiel was drinking from, but his body did not scream in pained protest. All he felt was the force of life that coursed through his body being drained from it, and it was exhilarating. Castiel was taking what no one should give willingly, upending all rules of nature that stated that predator should hunt and prey should flee. The excitement of it coursed through him, filling his veins with adrenaline. Dean knew Castiel loved it when his blood was tinged with the taste of excitement.
The vampire placed a hand over his heart, feeling it valiantly pump the blood through his body, help it course through his veins where Castiel partook of it. Dean let his hand settle over Castiel’s, the multitude of meanings of that gesture lost on neither of them.
Castiel drank and drank, and Dean knew Castiel was bringing him to the brink, taking enough to make him weak, only sips away from starting to be dangerous. He loved it when they got to that part, where Castiel took enough that his eyelids became heavy and his limbs felt weak, until he sank in a blissful haze against Castiel’s body. He liked this, the complete surrender of all worry and concern until all he felt was Castiel, holding him close and safe.
He barely felt Castiel withdraw, doing so as delicately as he’d bitten, only a quick, sharp pain reminding him of it before he felt numbness spread through that part of his body. Castiel’s tongue licked over the wound, gathering the last few drops of blood and sealing it until all that remained was a cut that looked several days old. Another of the perks of having a vampire lover – their semi-magical, semi-healing properties.
“Hold me,” Dean murmured, as he came down from his blissful high and felt the strength return slowly to his body. Castiel obliged, arms wrapped tight as he placed kisses on Dean’s shoulders and the other side of his neck. “Thank you,” he murmured against Dean’s skin.
“Did you take all you needed?” Dean asked, leaning his head back against Castiel.
“No. It would’ve been too much.”
“Cas – “
“I will drink again tomorrow. I took as much as I could from you today.”
Dean smiled. “Always looking out for me, Cas.”
And it was true. Castiel had saved Dean’s life on numerous occasions, placing his body between the prince and a knife, a bullet, a sword. Another of the perks of having a vampire lover – his ability to heal instantly, even if it rendered him weak enough to require another lengthy drink. In a strange irony, it was the vampire who drank his lifeblood that was also his guardian, his protector, his angel.
They sat in silence for a while, reveling in the comfort of each other’s bodies, Dean relishing the warmth of Castiel’s arms (for contrary to popular opinions, vampires were not cold as ice). Castiel carded his fingers through Dean’s hair, waiting as the prince regained his strength. Even as the weakness drained out of his limbs, he pressed himself closer, not wishing to leave the cocoon of warmth and comfort.
“I really should get back to kingdom business,” he said reluctantly after a while.
“And I really should let you,” Castiel said in a tone of voice that suggested he had absolutely no intention of doing so.
Dean turned his head, their eyes meeting and reflecting each other’s mischievous glint.
“I think,” Castiel suggested, glancing over at the maps and papers that had been occupying Dean when he’d arrived, “that there are better things you could do on that desk.”
“Oh?” Dean raised his eyebrows, his question an acquiescence in itself.
“Yes,” Castiel murmured, picking Dean up easily and laying him across the large desk with ease. “Much better things,” he continued, climbing onto the desk and settling atop Dean.
“Show me,” Dean ordered, tangling a hand in Castiel’s hair and pulling him down for a kiss.
Castiel obeyed. And as they made love on top of all the edicts and laws Dean really should be signing, Dean smiled. There really were benefits to having an immortal lover to distract a prince from such mortal worries as government affairs.