angel grace

1. grocery run

"Grocery run. I'll be back." Sam yells through the bunker before snatching the keys from the table and running out the door. Castiel sits at the kitchen table as he watches Dean mumble some classic rock song under his breath while aimlessly turning over some frozen mystery meat patties on a griddle. He could stay like this for hours, he thinks. The way Dean moves so slowly, the overly inappropriate way his lips curve around the lip of the beer bottle, his hair falling down over his face in places after the events of the day had worn the gel he put in this morning useless.

All these things merged together into one stunning human being was almost too much for the Lord's angel to bear. How is it that he was so luck to be granted the Winchesters to watch over?

"So Cas, you back to full power now? Like, officially?" Dean asks, not even turning to face the angel.

"Yes. It took a long time, but my grace has fully been replenished." He responds, straightening his posture.

"Could disintegrate a man with the snap of your fingers, yeah?" Dean chuckles to himself, turning around and leaning on the counter next to him.

"I suppose. Yes." Cas stumbles over the words, unsure of what Dean finds so humorous in the death of another human. He scoffs. "You know, Dean, my grace isn't strictly used for pain and death. It also is healing, uplifting, restorative-"

"Bring someone to sexual pleasure with the touch of a finger!" Dean lets out a full-body laugh, tipping the bottle in his hand a tad too far.
The angel has had enough of what he takes as Dean teasing him. In an instant, he's just inches away from Dean. The bottle clammers to the counter, and Dean instinctively fumbles behind him to turn the burner off.

"Do you want to find out?" Cas snarks. Dean says nothing as Cas' hand finds its way to Dean's neck, playfully squeezing ever so slightly. Dean has never thought about the angel in this way before, not consciously anyway, but now that the moment is literally thrust upon him, he is not second-guessing anything he's feeling. He wants this.

He leans his head forward, lips aching to kiss the angel, but he's pushed back. "Don't be so silly, Dean. I'm the one with the 'special powers' here. I set the pace. I decide what you get." Cas loves how Dean's name rolls off of his tongue, and Dean loves the dominating stance Cas wears all of a sudden. He's seen it used on plenty of others, but when he is the one falling under the spell, it takes on a whole new meaning.

Cas lets go of his human for only a second. A second long enough to remove his coat and tie before his fingers loop into the two front belt loops of Dean's jeans. He pulls the man flush against his own body, his thumbs pressing low into Dean's hips. Cas let's a surge of energy pass from his thumbs into Dean. A wave of arousal courses it's way through Dean's body, causing the man to scrunch his face and ball his fists around the shirt over Cas' chest. He mumbles a string of profanities under his breath before opening his lust glossed eyes and peering back deep into angry blue.

"Are we both now in understanding who's making who do what now?" Cas asks.

"Yeah- yes." Is all Dean can muster before another wave is pushed through his body and a heavy sigh rolls from his mouth.

"Good." Cas snarks. He completely removes himself from the other. "Now go and sit on the table in the main room and wait for me like someone who actually has some sense." He orders, and so Dean obeys.

Castiel takes a second to collect himself and come to terms with what is happening. In all honesty, he's wanted this for a long time. Not just the part about being intimate with or kissing the hunter, but having him so willingly under his thumb and obeying his commands.

Similarly, in the main room, Dean situates himself on the table so that his legs are on either side of a chair in front of him. He anticipates this is how the angel wants him, and he's not one to disappoint.