— dean. —
dean's addicted.
castiel is like a goddamn drug.
the shade of ethereal blue in castiel's eyes.
the way he looks deep into his eyes.
dark brown curls,
usually messy from dean's hands.
his hair smells like vanilla and honey.
his strong hands, the way they grip his waist.
his scent, he smells like autumn.
earthy, with a hint of pine.
scented flowers dipped in vanilla oil.
it's become pretty obvious at this point.
he's head over heels, obsessed.
with the precious little holy tax accountant.
the door to the hallway opens, smacking into the wall.
their mouths still glued as castiel walks them back down the corridor, having a quick check for the right room before he fumbles with the doorknob, kicking the door open. sam had just left to go on a supply run. he needed milk, eggs, beer, sandwich meat, etc. dean made sure to give him a long list so he was gone longer.
castiel breaks their kiss and pushes dean inside. dean stumbles back, dazed, almost disoriented. dean wants him like he's never wanted anyone before. every time this happens, dean's always desperate. castiel starts to unfasten his shirt, while dean kicks off his boots, once castiel's worked his way through his buttons, dean practically rips it off. they smack against the door, slamming it shut.
dean's throat is dry as he tries to swallow down the groan that wants to pass through his parted lips. the way he's looking at castiel; the hunger, the resolve. he's never felt so wanted and, weirdly, needed. it's a satisfying revelation. but there's an alien feeling too, one that he shoves into that box in the recesses of his mind marked 'some other time' feelings, doubts, and worries. the part of his mind that wonders how castiel feels, and how he must feel about cas.
he shakes that thought away. they've only done this about four times. and each time, it feels like dean can't breathe. he doesn't want to think about the real reason he likes doing this with cas so his excuse for it is, is just the fact that they get frustrated, and need to relieve some stress, which in this case, is each other. but dean knows that's not true. castiel's hands move from the button to his fly. unzipping his pants, castiel has more experience now. he's an awfully quick learner, and observer too.
he's picked up on little things that make dean go insane.
he's noticed that blowing on dean's ear just a little makes him instantly turned on. he likes choking, but not too hard. the little pepper kisses on his neck, and hairline makes him shiver. he's noticed that dean likes to be teased, but not too much, simple things like slowing down when he tells him to go harder, or nearly stopping when deans about to cum.
dean hates it. they both know each other so well, sexually. dean has picked up a few things about castiel. he even swears now. castiel slips his hand into his pants, wrapping his hand around him, closing the gap between the two. this isn't dean. he doesn't bend to a man's will but this man has had him bending from the second he saw him at the barn. he's unsure whether to loathe the notion or love it.
how many nights of dirty, raw fucking has to happen until dean finally finds the strength to say no? who is he kidding, he doesn't want to say no. he never wants to say no. although their relationship is changed now. they don't look at each other with innocent eyes anymore. regular conversations that seemed so easy, quickly turn awkward because the question always remains.
they haven't acknowledged it, asked about it, or even paid any attention to it. dean doesn't even want to say anything. illicit promises shine from castiel's stupidly blue eyes and that's enough for him. castiel waits, moving his hand until he hears that moan. he waits until he feels dean shudder against him, he waits until dean is gasping against his lips. castiel moves his hand, not caring to wipe, while dean pulls down his jeans along with his boxers. castiel reaches behind dean, locking the door before grabbing him by his hips.
