?

Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

He is a feather in the wind; Prompt Fill

Title: He is a feather in the wind
Prompt: Dean has the hand print to show He's Cas's human. What if Dean wants to mark his angel from other people's grubby little hands.

A/N: NC-17 unbetaed Prompt fill for alyssia333 over at deancaskink



If you were to see Castiel at the beach these days you'd have thought he had a hard on for Led Zepplin. He liked the band okay, mostly out of the need to appreciate everything that Dean loved. The tattoos had started in the lazy afterglow of a bout of slow morning sex. Dean lay in the crook of Cas' arm while he slowly traced the outline of his own handprint. He paused sporadically to lay a kiss on the end of each branded-on digit.

Dean had chuckled as Cas' tongue traced the pinky finger mark on his shoulder. "Guess we'll never need wedding rings, huh?"

"No," Cas sighed, "well you won't."

"True." Dean rolled into his partner's space, burying his face in Cas' neck. "Probably difficult to mark you."

"You could try though," Cas offered after a stretch of silence.

Two days later Castiel was in a chair, arm laid out on a table covered in surgical wrap. Dean had given the artist instructions not to let Cas see the tattoo. Cas averted his eyes as the man worked, obeying this like all of Dean's other orders. It took the angel by surprise when the artist moved his chair and gear to Cas' other side and began working on that wrist.

When the tattoo was finished Dean was asked if Cas could see it now. Dean shook his head. This earned him a cock of the eyebrow at first but then the tattoo artist simply shrugged and wrapped up Cas' wrists.

Castiel had healed quickly of course. By the time they had eaten dinner with Sam and gone back to their hotel Cas had already experienced the oozing sensation, the insatiable itchiness, and the urge to slap the bandages to experience anything but feeling of skin flaking off.

Dean had made great ceremony of unwrapping Cas' wrists. He sat on the edge of the bed with Cas standing before him, peeling off the gauze slowly. Cas looked obediently at the ceiling while Dean worked on the second wrist, apparently it was important he saw them at the same time.

"Okay," Dean spoke, breath hitched to a whisper.

Cas was thrumming with anticipation but he lowered his head slowly. Circumnavigating each wrist three times was a sentence, in typewriter font. The left wrist read, "If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you," the right one, "When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me."

"Dean," was all Cas managed to utter.

Dean held both of Cas' hands in his own, wrists facing up. He stooped his head slightly to lick gently at the perfectly healed skin before pressing in an open mouthed kiss. Cas shuddered with his whole body, knees growing weak until he crashed down, landing in Dean's lap. He smiled gently as his cheek brushed against the hardness swelling there. He was allowed his hands back momentarily to undo the belt and fly of Dean's pants but they were grasped back in Dean's own as soon as the hunter's cock was freed.

Dean continued kissing and licking onto the angel's wrists while Cas' tongue languished slowly over the shaft and head. Cas looked up as he flicked the fenulum softly. Dean's eyes were nearly closed, his mouth pressed onto Cas' right wrist. He pulled him wholly into his mouth, hallowing his cheeks as he sucked. Deans hips were stuttering a litany against Cas' face, answering the tempo he struck with his tongue on Cas' oversensitive skin. Cas knew Dean was close, and he responded by snaking his tongue around his lover, bobbing somewhat clumsily without the use of his hands to steady him. Dean moaned approvingly and as if he couldn't help it, bit into the base of his partner's thumb as he released.

"Um sorry," he stuttered, letting go of Cas' hands. He used his own hands to wipe the white mess from Cas' lips and chin. The angel responded by licking his fingers clean with quick wipes of his tongue.

"I'm not." Cas smirked as he righted himself to crash onto the bed next to Dean.

***
Cas didn't tell Dean the next time he went to a studio. He met the brothers at a diner on the outskirts of New Orleans, eschewing the usual tax accountant getup for a T-shirt that did nothing to hide the white gauze on his bicep. Dean's reaction was exactly what Castiel had hoped for. He momentarily forgot his food and the necessity of breathing. His mouth was agape and sweat began beading in his hair line.

Sam looked from his brother to the angel a few times before asking if everything was alright.

"Yes, Sammy, everything is fine," Dean had responded through clenched teeth. Cas simply smiled and stole a french fry off Dean's plate.
***
Dean had attacked him as soon as the the hotel room door had clicked shut. (No, Sammy, you really want to get your own room tonight.) They slammed to the floor in a heap, Dean landing on Castiel's hips. The angel laughed and tried to keep his t-shirt pushed down. This was answered with Dean digging his nails into the fabric above Cas' chest and ripping upwards, shredding it. His eyes went wide at the site of Castiel's torso. He was completely wrapped in white gauze.

Castiel propped himself up to discard the ribbons of shirt. "That was your shirt by the way."

"Let me see it," Dean growled, sitting back and tracing his fingers along the bandage. "Both of them."

"If you must," Cas responded crashing his mouth into Dean's. He grasped the underside of Dean's chin to hold him into the kiss. Dean fumbled at the tape holding the bandage. Castiel busied himself with Dean's pants, exhaling sharply at the feeling that he was already hard. The bandage was stripped away to be left with the remnants of the shirt. Never breaking the kiss, Dean began working on the wrap on Cas' bicep.

Freed of all his bandages, Castiel kept the firm grip on Dean's face. His eyes were open, as were Dean's, searching downward to see Cas' arm and side. Removing clothes one handed was proving difficult. He let his hand fall from Dean's face to strip off his shirt. They pulled apart briefly, kicking of shoes and socks and discarding pants and boxers. They crashed back together in a heap, Dean immediately diving for the Icarus now covering Castiel's side.

Cas turned on his side slightly , reaching to drag Dean's duffle bag a bit closer. He fumbled with the zipper, distracted by the tongue tracing the spaces between his ribs. The small bottle contacted with his hands and he withdrew it. Blindly opening and pouring the lube on his hands caused excess to drip onto Dean's back. He shuddered into Cas at the sudden coolness and paused a moment.

"Go ahead."

Dean's body position made it easy for Cas to reach to insert a long finer. Dean still bent over, ass in the air, kissing along Cas's collarbone, tracing his tongue along the tattoo on his bicep. His cock was rutted against Cas' sternum, leaving trails of precome as he moved. The angel drove his finger in, faster as his neck was licked, nibbled and then full on bitten.

"You've marked yourself for me," Dean growled into Cas' neck. "I can mark you more."

Cas nodded, unable to find voice. Their eyes met momentarily and he thrust another finger in.

"Mine." Dean's hands gripped the side of Castiel's face. He pulled Cas' face up slightly, kissing him. His back swayed to push into Cas' hand. Dean's knees and thighs were squeezing against his torso as he reeled back and forth, fucking himself on Cas' fingers. It was like being pinned by a wild animal and while Castiel could have risen and thrown Dean across the room, why would he want to? He only used his vessel's strength.

Dean released the grip on Castiel's face with one hand. When it touched him again it was smearing lube on his dick with a firm grip. Cas' lips turned up at the corners as he added another finger, crooking them, searching. He closed his eyes and listened for the cues in Dean's breath, pressing as hard as he could when he heard him pant.

He could feel Dean pull away from his fingers. His eyes snapped open as he felt himself be guided in by Dean's grip on his cock. Dean's were closed now, his lips parted, face flushed as he lowered himself on to Castiel. His thighs flexed as he released his hands, moving up and down a few times before seating himself fully.

Cas bent his knees, curling his toes into the floor, giving himself the leverage he needed to move gently into Dean. Soft, gentle rolls of his hipbones that caused Dean to bite the corner of his lip and squeeze his eyes tighter. He was upright, arms hanging loosely at his sides, his face completely wrecked. His expression only grew more pained when Cas gripped his cock, smearing the wet from the leaking head down, twisting and squeezing.

Dean began pulsing up and down onto Cas, causing him to arch his back and thrust. He kept his hands at his thighs, bulging with the effort. Cas' strokes on Dean were becoming increasingly clumsy and Dean quickened the pace. His vision was going white, concentrating so hard on not burning up his lover with his grace. He wouldn't last long. He focused on Dean's cock, not his own. He stopped ignoring the brutal rug burn he was getting on his back.

But for all his efforts, Dean seemed to compensate. Adding small rotations in his pelvis as he moved, grinding them together when they met. He traced his fingers over Cas' nipples, trailed his fingers down his ribcage. Castiel was nearly as relieved as Dean was when he felt the warmth on his chest from Dean's release. He dropped his hands to the motel carpet, more leverage to fuck relentlessly into Dean. His head rolled, his vision was now nearly nonexistent. He could feel himself twitch inside. Dean responded by clenching down. There was a guttural groan from Castiel and he didn't feel like it was an ejaculation as much as it was an explosion.

They stayed, unmoved, for several moments, Dean catching his breath and Cas peeping out of one eye and then the next, making sure the motel room was intact. Dean fell onto Cas' chest, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "Mine."

Castiel fitted his hand over the mark on Dean's shoulder. "Mine."

Comments

jadika
Dec. 29th, 2011 06:05 am (UTC)
Yes, please!

That was delicious. The last sentence was perfect too. Cas with tats...yummy!

Profile

Castielfire
yourgracewasted
Your Grace is Wasted

Latest Month

December 2012
S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Page Summary

Powered by LiveJournal.com