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The Taste of Your Lips (Is My Idea of Luxury)

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Dean was ambling slowly down the hallway to his room when, as he passed Castiel’s door, he heard an odd collection of groans and frustrated expletives. He paused to listen, trying to decide if the resident angel might need help with something.


At the sound of a frustrated groan and something being tossed, he decided interference was best and opened the door. 


Dean very nearly backed out and slammed the door, but the sight in front of him was such a contradiction that he couldn’t quite manage it. Cas was sitting on his bed, sprawled out wearing nothing but boxers around his knees, head back against the wall with tear tracks down his face and his dick at full mast in his hand. With a plethora of experience under his belt, Dean would bet just by glancing that it hurt like hell.


“Can I help you Dean?” Cas gave a valiant effort at a scathing, venomous tone, but Dean could hear that it was forced.


“Uh… usually I would not still be standing here, but I cannot in good conscience leave you looking like this until I know what the hell is wrong, so why don’t you cover up and tell me why the hell you’re pissed enough to cry while you’re jerking off.”


Cas’s face turned a deep crimson as he pulled the sheet up over his lap, bending his knees to prevent his erection from creating a tent that would defeat the purpose of covering up entirely.


“If this was still just a vessel, complete with its human inhabitant, I would have access to all of the experience, shall we say, that the body has acquired over time. However, since Jimmy has passed on, it is much less a vessel than it is simply my body. Thus, I am a celestial being with zero experience with sexual pleasure in a very human body which apparently requires release from time to time. I attempted your methods,” he indicated the phone on the floor several feet away with porn on screen, “but apparently there is a certain form to the motion that I simply cannot learn. I thought that the body would know, that it would happen naturally if I let it, but I was wrong.”


“Can I ask how long you’ve been…” Dean trailed off.


“Approximately five hours. It became painful two hours ago.”


Dean felt himself go a little pale. “Jesus, yeah I bet you’re hurting by now. Well first off, you’re way too tense now, you need to relax.”


“And how am I supposed to manage that?” Cas replied in a withering tone.


Dean closed his eyes for a moment, deciding if he was really doing this. At the end of the day, though, it would be cruel at this point to get up, say not my problem and walk out. “Scoot forward,” he muttered, kicking his boots off. Clearly bewildered, Castiel did as Dean instructed, which allowed Dean to sit behind Cas with his own back against the wall. He pushed Cas’s shoulders forward and clenched his hands on either side where his neck flowed into his shoulders, pressing his thumbs deep into the muscle. He heard Cas groan and felt the man’s head fall forward more, allowing Dean better access to his neck and shoulders. 


He let his eyes explore the broad, smooth expanse of Castiel’s back as he worked, unable to keep himself from noticing the glimpse of crack where his ass began, quietly wishing he could see the rest. 


He used less pressure as his hands ventured down to his shoulder blades and the middle of his back, enjoying the content noises Cas was making as his body loosened. He could hear Cas breathing heavily, and though there was a clear attempt by the man to disguise it, he knew exactly what it meant. The idea that Cas was becoming even more aroused by Dean’s hands on him sent a particularly heavy throb directly south. 


Though he wanted to think he was considering whether or not to do what he wanted, trying to decide whether to give in to the desires he had been hiding from, deep down Dean knew that his mind was already made up. He reached one hand out to the bedside table to dig in the drawer for the bottle that he had hidden there himself, placed just in case Cas would ever decide to make use of it. With the other he gripped one of Cas’s shoulders and pulled him back to lean on his chest, and Cas’s head fell back on his shoulder easily. 


Dean used his feet to shift the other’s legs to lay flat, and the motion conveniently pulled the sheet down to reveal Cas’s erection, visibly throbbing with his extended arousal. Either Cas didn’t notice it had fallen away or simply didn’t care, because he made no move to retrieve it. 


Dean popped the cap on the bottle, earning a curious glance from heavy lidded blue eyes that he deliberately did not meet. He poured a small amount into the palm of his hand before setting the bottle aside, swiping his fingers across his palm as he brushed the dry hand lightly across Cas’s chest. 


“Dean?” Castiel’s voice was rough, and Dean quietly shushed him.


“Just let me,” he soothed quietly as he wrapped his hand gently around the base of the shaft. Cas sucked in a sharp breath, eyelids falling shut as his head lolled back onto Dean’s shoulder. Cas’s legs spread wider as Dean’s hand gave him long, slow strokes. He could feel his own erection pressing insistently against the base of Castiel’s spine, but paid it very little mind. There would be plenty of time to take care of himself later. 


As much as he wanted to draw it out, to pull sound after beautiful sound from that soft mouth, Dean knew that Cas was in pain and desperately needed to finish. With a few swipes over the head to identify the most sensitive areas, Dean let his hand set a rapid pace. He couldn’t help but notice how much he loved the feel of it in his hand, the weight against his palm and the way Cas arched back against him with a high, keening moan. Without thinking, he dipped his head to lay soft, open kisses at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, letting the fingers of his free hand ghost over Cas’s nipples. He tightened his grip slightly, and after just a few more rapid strokes his back arched as he came all over his own belly, as well as Dean’s hand and wrist. 


Cas’s body jerked slightly with aftershocks, which Dean slowly and gently stroked him through until he felt the fallen angel begin to shift away from his hand. He felt Cas begin to go soft in his hand and let go, staring down at the familiar face still resting on his shoulder. After a few more moments those blue eyes opened again, finding Dean’s own before following the line of his jaw to his lips. 


With a slight shift of his shoulders Dean was able to bend his neck in a way that allowed him to meet those soft, pink lips in a kiss. The kiss sent a pulse through his body, reminding him of his own neglected situation. Now aware once more, he couldn’t help but shift in discomfort.


Cas, apparently recovered, sat forward. “Switch,” he told Dean, leaving no room in his tone for it to be taken as a request. Not needing to be told more than once, he hopped off the bed and quickly shed his own clothing. He took care to leave the mess Cas had made where it was on his hand and wrist and lowered himself back onto the bed, where the other had backed up against the wall. Before leaning flush against Cas’s chest, he turned enough to wipe the remainder of come off Cas’s belly, ignoring the confused expression he got as he leaned back against his chest. 


He rested his head back on Cas’s shoulder in a mirror of the way they had been just minutes previously, and coated himself with what was on his hand and wrist in lieu of the normal lubricant. 


He heard Cas’s breath catch watching Dean spread his come over himself, and on a whim took Cas’s hand in his own and wrapped it around himself. Placing his own hand over the angel’s, he leaned back into his chest and helped Cas stroke him, slow to start and then speeding up when the pressure began to build. Dean felt him become more confident in his motions, and slowly let the grip of his own hand loosen until it fell by his side.


He instead raised his hand to cup one side of Cas’s jaw, holding it in place so that he could mouth at the spot just below the hinge on the other. The hand around him tightened reflexively, and that was all it took to send him over the edge, crying out and arching back in the same way Cas had.


His body sagged as he caught his breath, feeling both of Cas’s arms wind around his waist as soft kisses were placed on his cheek and jaw. “I thought I would only ever dream of feeling your hands on me,” came his voice quietly in Dean’s ear.


“I never thought I would let myself touch you,” Dean returned. “But now I don’t want to stop.”


“Then don’t,” Castiel breathed, pulling Dean’s face close for another kiss.