Skies on Fire

Skies on fireTitle: Skies on Fire
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Castiel/Dean
Warning: General season 4 spoilers
Word Count: 528
Rating: NC-17
Summary: “I always get you there.”
Notes: Written for anonymous on the Dean/Castiel kink meme. The prompt: Castiel can control the human body with the touch of a finger and has fun bringing Dean to the edge of orgasm multiple times before finally letting him come, and come and come. Consenting Dean please. Title is from the song by AC/DC.

The Dean/Castiel Kink Meme
Porn or not, every angel&human has fantasies.

Castiel is a sadistic bastard. Dean has informed him of this numerous times, usually when Castiel is inside him and keeping Dean teetering on the edge with just a touch of his finger. It doesn’t matter how long they’ve been doing it, Castiel always makes Dean last a little longer than he’d thought himself capable of, and when they’re done Dean is so spent he passes out like a teenager.

And then when he wakes up Castiel’s usually not there to yell at. Which just goes to show, doesn’t it, that angels are really lacking in social skills.

So Dean has to get it out when Castiel’s still there, and it’s not like they can talk about their sex life in front of Sam, so usually it’s when they’re naked that it comes up. “I mean,” Dean says, his hand wrapped around Castiel’s cock and his lips on Castiel’s neck, “you like to come, right? You like it when I make you come?”

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel breathes, his eyes fluttering closed and his neck arching, and he looks depraved and sensual and delicious, and Dean loses whatever train of thought he had for a while so he can taste Castiel’s sweaty skin.

“So,” he finally remembers to say, and Castiel is writhing a little by this point, “I like to come too.”

“I always get you there,” Castiel says, and Dean thinks Uh-oh, he’s picking up on the terminology, and while he’s musing on vocabulary Cas flips him over and bites his neck as he presses Dean into the mattress.

Dean hopes some of his plea got through as he raises a leg over Castiel’s shoulder, and ahh God there it is, his angel going slow inside him, and it’s so good and right and he want to feel it, wants to feel it with Castiel—and then he feels Castiel’s fingers on his forehead, drawing him out like a cord pulled from a tangle.

“Cas,” he begs and in response Castiel laughs lowly and his tongue dances over Dean’s chest, his arm pinning Dean down. “Please, Cas.”

“Not yet,” says Castiel, his hand cradling Dean’s face, and his body is hot and taut and Dean clutches at him desperately, fingers digging into Castiel’s shoulders and hips and ass.

Sometimes he wishes Castiel didn’t have so much goddamn control. It’s just not fair.

He tries to buck, to get more out of Castiel than this measured pace and sucking and licking, and Castiel rocks into him deeper and brushes a thumb over Dean’s forehead and it’s like the world goes white and thin, and everywhere inside Dean it’s tight and hungry. “Sadistic,” he gasps, “bastard.”

“Trust me,” Castiel whispers to him, nose under Dean’s chin, and that’s just the trouble, isn’t it, he trusts Castiel absolutely.

See, that’s the thing, that as frustrating it is to be held off and held off and held off again, when he gets there—and Castiel’s right about one thing, he always gets there—it’s fucking amazing, it’s intense and full and hot and he’s happy, he’s so happy.

Dean never cries after he comes, but sometimes he laughs and laughs.


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