Archive of Our Own

"Say what Kevin?!"

Dean shouts, clearly annoyed. His hand unintentionally went to the back of his ear, scratching it in an attempt to reach the skin underneath his hair. Kevin wanted to help. Really. But he also needed to hold a strong laugh that Is about to burst out of his lungs.

"Like I said, Dean, I think the spell isn't worn out completely."

"So what?!" replied the hunter harshly "I'm gonna... Swing my ass when I’m happy, or something?!"

"Well… Not necessarily

A chuckle came from Sam across the table, and Kevin is unable to help himself, laughing with him. Everyone in the room - except Dean - is smiling, and they have a good reason for it.

It seems that the spell Dean used in his last hunt to talk to a dog - the only witness that saw the two victims - is still functioning in his body.

"Sorry Dean." Kevin took ahold of his breath, typing faster in the computer. "As far as I can tell, the spell returned because some of the dog's fur used in the mixture was in the impala, and somehow you managed to… Swallow it?"

The end of the sentence sounds more like a question. It's when Sam's coughs, and the two of them stare at him:

"Sounds like you should not eat fries that fell on the car seat, Dean.

"How the hell was I supposed to know that the spell was still running in my body, you frickin genius?!"

"Well, the ingredients of the shamanic spell were still active in your bloodstream when you eat the dog .... Fur. This caused the effects to regain strenght, but since I don't know how much fur you .... Swallowed, is hard to tell when the spell will disperse"

"I hate this! I fucking hate this shit! What if I start to pee on things?!"

"Then I'll sprinkle water on your face." mocked Sam, with a half smile. This situation is clearly comical to his brother.

"Anyway…" Kevin interrupts "I think it will be over in two or three days. But I'm not sure, so be patient."

"Man, this sucks!"

Dean growled, but there’s nothing else they can do except wait until the spell wears off.

During the rest of the afternoon, Dean wanders in the Bunker, sniffing things - and his anger only boiled. At dinner, he couldn’t control himself, and end up shoving his head into the plate, biting the meat and tearing it appart with his teeth. Then he drinks a cup of water using his tongue, taking small sips. Kevin and Sam looked perplexed at him, laughing right away.

"Glad I’m amusing you guys!" he stood uo angrily from the table, going to his room while scratching his hair "Fuck!"

Damn spell! Damn dog! Damn Kevin and Sam! Damn everything!

His eyelids falls, so tired from the last hunt, but before Dean give in to exhaustion, his eyes catch a glimpse of his phone. Stretching one hand to the side he grabs it, searching the names on the list, stopping over Castiel’s.

Struggling with a great bitterness, his thumb goes up and down over the letters on the screen, but without pressing the call button. The hunter looks at his friend's name for about ten minutes while seeing again and again the lost expression on Castiel's face when he said weeks ago that the former angel couldn't stay with them in the Bunker. That made Dean feel liek a piece of shit; a liar.

Cursing, he shoves the cellphone back to his desk, trying to get some sleep – but not before scratching behind his ear again.

(…)

Next morning Dean feels a distant smell of bacon from his room, which wakes him up right way. Sam sees his brother rushing towards the kitchen; his mouth open, tongue slightly out, eyes wide and a plead face that stares at Sam, as if he was asking for permission to go inside and have a seat. Sam tried to hide his half smile as Dean coughed, straightening himself up.

After breakfast – and a lot of jokes– Dean finds himself in the study room with Kevin talking about the new founds on the angel tablet. Research and research. Dean rolls his eyes in frustration. How he hates doing this. Like a miracle his cells rings, and he picks it.

It’s Cas.

A thrill runs through his body just by hearing his voice. He closes his eyes as if he was missing the former angel for a whole eternity. A strange will come to his mind, to go over him and sniff – yes, sniff – Castiel.

"I…I’ve got my hands full over here…" Castiel says, waking Dean from his daydream.

He snaps his eyes open, clearing his throat. What the hell was he thinking?!

"Cas? Hello?" he calls his friend after hearing a loud noise over the phone.

Then the line gets dead, and Dean looks at the screen not quite understanding anything. But one thing he is sure: it’s a way to escape Kevin and his brother's nerd vibes. Before they can stop him, Dean leaves the Bunker with a few things, heading to where Castiel is staying to check the mysterious deaths and a possibility of a hunt.

He can’t hide an palpable eagerness, as Dean is about to see his friend again. The hunter finds himself smiling ear to ear without noticing it. He shakes his head, which causes an itching, which leads to his hand scratching his ear. And Dean curses a thousand curses.

When he arrives at a Gas-N-Sip he quickly leaves the impala, starting to run. Because he smelled Castiel’s scent. It’s a sugary odor, mixed to sweat, but also musk and rough, and… Dean’s body is thrilled. He holds off a few steps, though, swallowing hard. Something is wrong with him. It's as if Castiel were his anchor, a safe shelter from which he walked away. And seeing him, smelling him is like returning home; to someone he immensely wanted, to his master…

Master?!

Oh fuck! The spell!

He is acting like a lost dog who had found its owner.

What the- Castiel isn’t Dean’s owner! For Christ sake, what his brain is thinking?!

Well… His brain isn’t working a hundred percent now; animal instincts and stuff, but… But! God! How good Castiel's scent is!

Dean has to contain himself. This spell is messing with him, it can only be this! One or two more days and he will be cured.

However, a trigger in the back of his neck is telling him otherwise; that all these shivers are just part of him, only now allowed freedom, during his impulsive momentary condition. But it was always there… Fuck off brain! Dean is not going to fall into this stupid idea.

For about ten or more minutes, Dean just remains near the impala, watching Castiel from a safe distance. Once he finds control among his ruleless actions, he walks to the Gas-N-Sip, seeing how Cas’s face lightens up with his view, but soon it became serious with distraught  features. Ouch. Yes, Dean deserved that, okay. However, a part of him – the dog part – pops up with a gloomy feeling. ‘Bad boy’… He thinks, and then he coughs, clearing his mind. He does so not like the course of this.

"What are you doing here?"

Castiel asks with a low voice. It makes Dean soften, but he contains his senses:

"Gee, nice to see you too Cas." he replies with a confident tone, and he thinks he is okay, that everything will be fine, no need to worry about the spell.

Until the day starts to develop and he can feel his body aching for Castiel to touch him; to pat him and make things alright between them. Driving together in the car is a torture, trying to concentrate on the case in hands is almost impossible, but what makes Dean really, really pissed, is when he needs to drive Cas to his date.

……..(…).….…

Dean is fighting against this stupid spell that makes him more true about his feelings – which he hates. Dog traits sucks. It makes him act all needy around Castiel, wanting to be a good boy – another thing he hates. And the worst part is the jealousy, although Castiel asked to drop him out in his date house, which he does, because Castiel gave an order to him… Damn spell!

Dean feels himself miserable, a kind of an abandoned animal who was left on the road by his owner, and now he has to control every fiber of his body to not go over the house, bit this woman, and claim Castiel as his.

What.The.Fuck!

Dean hates spells, hates the fact that deep inside he knows all of this are parts of him, something that had been there, but never – ever – he dared to release. He can’t have Castiel, not after what he did, banishing his friend from the Bunker. Actually, Dean assumed he don’t deserve having someone. He was a liar, he was deceiving his brother, he hurt Cas in his most flimsy moment, and he was just a big bag of crap rambling in this world with nothing to provide, but melancholy.

So he drives Castiel to his boss's house, for that’s what good boys do, they help their masters – fucking brain disturbing him again. But hey, he manages to complete the day without doing anything imprudent.

Obviously, fate is an amusing thing.

The monster that they pursued earlier was an angel responsible for relieving the pain from others; A.K.A killing them, and he went after Castiel.

Castiel had become vulnerable, alone in the house, but luckily he managed to call Dean in time. The hunter drives as fast as he can, getting there in time to help his friend, defeating the angel before he could continue his killing spree.

On the other side of the living room Castiel is left bleeding, and this image engines all of the hunter's protective instincts - not as a spell mechanism, not at all. He needs to guard Cas, to make sure he is safe, because that’s what Dean Winchester does. Amidst all of his sins, one small portion of him remains with a decent piece, and that’s his will to protect his brother, Kevin, Charlie, and now Castiel.

Cas’s is on his knees nearly fainting due tiredness, and he almost falls, but is catch by Dean who wraps his arms around his middle, sitting on the floor. And none realized how Cas ends up straddling Dean’s lap.

"Cas! Are you hurt?!"

He asks in visible concern, the spell emerging through his pores with all the worries Dean tries to hide. Soon he starts to drift his hands in Cas's upper body, his ribs, his chest, analyzing the damage done.

The hunter just have to make sure; be certain he is okay, and so his head drops in the vacuum of Castiel’s shoulder in an urge to breathe the skin under his nape, trying to catch all of his scent to assure himself that he is fine. Dean frowns at the open cut in his hand. He lowers his shoulders in a feeble mood, exhibiting a sad posture, since he couldn’t come earlier to protect Castiel. An abundant sorrow affects the hunter – making him fucking whine - and before Dean can stop himself, his tongue is already liking Cas’s hand.

"Dean?!" Castiel is in shock. The hunter is acting weird since morning, but what leaves Castiel even more atonished is the wet and warm tongue laping over his wound with placid movements, going from the wrist to to the beginning of his knuckles.

Dean drops his palm, opening his mouth, and allows the pulpy flesh to slide in each bruise in his collarbone. His forearm circles the end of Castiel’s spine right above his round cheeks while his other hand holds his nape, imprisoning the former angel in an embrace.

The hunter takes his time, licking each side, slipping - one shoulder to another - then he makes a path down Cas’s chest, placing more pressure there with his tongue, eventually kissing the sore skin, licking again and again.

When Cas grabs the hunter biceps gasping, he wakes up from the torpor caused by the spell, and raises his head looking with wide eyes at Castiel. Dean’s mouth is agape, throat dry as he sees Cas's face flushed,  with a dense air coming out of his parted lips. He is confused, ashamed; however Dean notices the blackness in his iris, the hoarseness tone as he groans, and he can only gulp when he realises that… That Castiel is enjoying this.

Swallowing hard, the former angel starts to shift, rising. He rests his back on a wall, adjusting the buttons of his shirt while puffing, not facing Dean. The hunter just mimicked his gestures, also fixing his jacket. Once Cas is no longer dazed, he stares at Dean:

"What happened to you?" Queries, aware that there must be a reason for Dean's actions. Because clearly the hunter had no intention to do any of this.

"I…" He flinches.

A turmoil begins in his stomach, caused by the spell. The rational part of his mind keeps teeling Dean that he always felt a peculiar connection with Castiel, even if he never put that sensations into words or actions, but rather ignored these impulses; never naming them. Well, but now he's fucked, right?

Acting like a shy animal that reacts to words, sounds, hell, even Castiel's smell is making the situation more complicated.

Dean can barely stand firm or use his so common lies, since all his being is pushing him towards the former angel, wanting to please him - and he once again swears in his mind all the swears that he knows.

"Dean?" He asks again, this time with a heavier voice, provoking a wave of chills in Dean."Answer me."

He is ordering… Cas is giving him a command. Oh, shit, he's just doing the worst thing possible for Dean right now! Taking a deep breath, Dean closes his eyes, starting to scratch his nape with nervousness - it's the only thing that holds him in place from going over there and smell Castiel again.

"Dean!" He shouts firmly, and that’s it. Dean has to answer.

"It’s a spell!" He shouts, switching his weight from one leg to another in a visible discomfort "A shaman stuff that links me to an animal."

Cas furrows his brow, not quite understanding how Dean was affected by this spell. He tilts his head in muddle, which makes the hunter roll his eyes.

"I’ll explain later, just… Let’s go so we can patch you up."

"... Alright."

Castiel sighs, agreeing to go to his motel room, after all he had no home to return. Also, he wanted to comprehend what happened in the living room of his boss's house. Why Dean… Did this, and how much intense this spell is affecting him.

They talk to Nora after cleaning the house. Castiel apologizes for anything while Dean watches him from the car – because Cas told him to stay. Man, how he hates this! First of all, he is not somebody to let himself be ordered around. Second, why is that, when Castiel speaks, he feels compelled to submit? With Sam and Kevin he didn’t felt this urge to ‘obey’. He is like a… Mutt. He is not obligate to answer to anyone or anything; he is his own master, thank you very much! Also, dogs don’t just go and bow easily, they have to recognize their owners, and Dean knew it! That’s why he would never-

Oh shit.

Shit, shit, shit!

What the fuck this spell is doing to him?! It made him… To Castiel, like he is Dean’s… No, no, no. No fucking million ways!

He is hyperventilating when Castiel decides to return. Dean freezes, holding his breath; eyes doubling its size as he gawked at the road, gripping the steering wheel as if his life depends on it. Of course, Cas notices. He may not be familiar with human behaviors, but he is familiar with Dean.

"Are you alright Dean?" Cas asks, narrowing his eyes.

The hunter only nods, not looking at him, not allowing himself to lose control again.

"You seem disturbed." he continues.

Again, Dean denies with his head, shrugging a little.

"Dean, you’re going over the speed limit."

He listens but only nods, keeping the speed, for it’s the only thing distracting him from Cas’s presence, and his inner will to rub himself against him. Man, being part dog sucks!

"Stay calm Dean." Castiel orders a bit more harsh this time.

Stay.

The hunter can’t help. He indulges into Cas's command and slows down, not before letting a whine leave his throat. God, how is he going to endure this?! Cas nothing says about the small cry, but he pays attention at how this spell is functioning, discovering things out of his own.

At the hotel, the first thing Dean does is bring a first aid kit. Despite every problem he is dealing at the moment, Cas is really injured, and helping his friend is a priority. He sits Castiel on his bed and opens the box, holding alcohol and cotton, but stops.

Dean is looking to Cas's face. Then to his tore shirt. Then his face again, incapable of putting together single letters in words and ask for permission (to his master, but he brushes this thought away). So he stares at the former angel: eyes big just as much as when Sam does his sad puppy face – which now is easy piece for Dean to copy.

Cas sighs, opening his shirt, giving access for the hunter to treat the red bruises. While Dean is working he is concentrated, stiff. So Castiel exploit his focused condition to inquire.

"How were you affected by this spell, Dean?"

He only shrugs, starting to clean his hand, placing a gauze on some cuts.

"It’s a residual thing from my last hunt."

"It involved a shamanic recipe, you said?"

"Yeah, an animal connection. I drank dog fur."

"You… Drank dog fur?"  His eyes narrows with the oddity of the ingredient.

"Yep. Pretty disgusting. It made me able to talk to a dog."

Castiel tilts his head almost breaking his neck, and Dean can’t help but smile a little at his goofy face.

"He was the witness... Anyway; this stuff is powerful, and it also gave me some… Dog traits."

"Like your behavior from earlier."

"Yeah, yeah, let’s not talk about it."

Dean finishes the amendments in hos body, putting the box away while getting up. He turns his back to the former angel, not wanting to have this conversation; to explain himself more than he already had. What if he says something stupid? What if the spell makes him do something stupid?! He can’t risk.

But of course, Cas wants to dig in.

"What's the connection between your urge to lick my wounds compared to a dog?"

Dean chokes, unable to breath. He takes a bottle of water, drinking half of it. Then, his nape is itching again and he rubs it. Dammit!

"Uh… Dunno. It’s a… Instinct of caring, I guess." God, he must be blushing right now.

"By caring you mean you were worried about me?"

"Well, I kind of found you almost getting killed by an angel, so, yes."

"I see."

Stopping for a while Castiel seemed to search his own knowledge about what Dean reveled. Suddenly, Cas gains a downcast aspect on his face when a simple solution forms in his mind.

"You felt compelled to help me because the spell indulged you."

"Yes… No!"

Dean shakes his hands in the air, cursing himself for being so impulsive, trying to knock this idea away. It’s not like that! Of course, the spell made him do… The "licking" thing, but he was really concerned! Castiel, however, remains quiet, just staring Dean. When the hunter couldn’t think of anything to say, the former angel just stands up, putting his shirt on.

"Thank you for your assistance Dean. Have a nice travel."

He politely says, walking to the door. Castiel is leaving. He is leaving because Dean is a stupid, restrict jerk who doesn’t know how to expresses what he is truly thinking, what he is feeling. He is such a constipated person, that he is going to let Castiel go away – once more – because he holds back all his sensations, shielding it deep inside, not wanting to revel any trace of weakness.

But the spell is stronger than him now.

So when he sees Castiel’s sad mien, when he steps closer to the exit, echoing the scene in the Bunker, all he can do is run towards him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders. His chest is pressed hard against Cas’s back, and the former angel gulps, paralyzed.

"Dean, let me go." asks him after a long sigh.

"No…" He whines. He fucking whines again! Oh, hell he feels like whining right now.

"Dean."

He doesn’t obey, because if he does, Cas is going away, and he can’t let things end like this again, with Castiel leaving because of Dean's stubbornness.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel doesn’t move, but also says no more. Dean is out of himself right now, he cannot let this actions confuse him. Except they do. When Dean sniffs his neck, digging his nose as if he is never going to be able to do so, Castiel melts, moaning a small cry.

It’s all what it takes for Dean to turn him around and press Castiel against the wall. His waist finds a way in the middle of Cas’s thighs, pushing his crotch forward, meeting the burning skin inside the former angel's slacks.

Lowering his head under his ear, the hunter inhales all of this musk scent, coming directly to his nostrils, trembling with it; his head becoming dizzy, obscuring all of his sanity putting in its place the primal desire of want. Of a warm touch, to lick and bite Castiel's body in it's completude.

"You smell so good. Why do you smell so good?" He asks in a mix of plead and delight, closing his eyes as they roll inside the orbits.

"Dean…" Cas is panting. His hand squeezes one of the hunter's arm, not sure if to bring him close or to push away. Cas just tryes to find some self-control "This isn’t you..."

"Yes it is." Comes the reply, and he os not blinking, hovering his eyes over Castiel’s blue ones "It’s me."

"No Dean. It’s the spell. You-"

"I wanted to… For a long time. I just… Never found an excuse."

"An excuse?"

"Yeah…"

The answers come in a weak voice, as Dean starts nipping at Castiel’s neck, sucking the skin, what makes the smaller one whimper and go almost limb in his arms.

Dean, in truth, thought about this – a big panic attack had hit him many times already – but in all scenarios, he and Cas had this "thing" going on. A complex proximity, too absurd to be explained with scarse words, but that embraced him constantly, almost like a whisper being confined in the secrecy of his mind.

This connection, of all those years they knew each other, grew stronger in an unique way. It have a powerful meaning. So what if the spell is making Dean pliable; needy, and all protective over Castiel? He was always like this, even if he didn't exhibited those desires before.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel grabs the hunter’s plaid shirt, regaining some control to resist.

"Dean, stop." He says in a command voice.

Struggling, Dean does as he’s told, showing a displeased face – his lips pouting as he backs away a little.

"Just… You have to calm down, and sit."

He sits.

Castiel’s blinks not believing how easy it is to convince Dean; he usually makes a tantrum.

"Cas…" He whines his name over the bed in a visible wish to come closer to the former angel, but not doing it, since he was ordered to sit.

"Dean, what is happening to you it's just... Part of this spell." He affirms, breathless.

"But it’s also me Cas!" Dean almost barks, showing some anger towards his disbelief.

"Dean…"

"Look." He gets up and sits down again, furrowing in confusion by his change of actions (oh, right, he has to remain sit).

"Dean?"

"I… It’s just nothing. Cas, listen. This spell makes me act with impulses. Yeah, okay, a dog-style impulse, but it’s still me."

Castiel shakes his head a few times, wanting to discourage him and himself from believing in this mess caused by the spell. This can’t be Dean talking; it's just too simple for the likings of the hunter.

Hiking away from the wall, Castiel sighs. He needs to focus – for both of them. He stops in front of Dean, seeing as he raises one hand, but lowers it moments later. Strange.

"I can’t allow you to do this Dean. It would be… Wrong."

"Wrong?" Now it's the hunter who gets confused.

"Because you… You don’t want this, but the spell makes you believe you do. You are compromised."

Dean’s torso goes backwards, as his temple creases with small expression marks. He is not quite sure of what he just heard. Does Cas thinks he is abusing him? When Dean was the one licking, sniffing, and all?

Finding enough strenght to get up, Dean faces Cas, who ducks his head. Dean notices a little redness in his cheeks. Why was he so unsettle by this? Why he…

Dean inhales – heavily. His whole body quivers as a clarifying insight hits him.

"Cas…" He says with a pleading voice "Are you saying that you… Want me?"

Green eyes are looking down at the former angel, with Dean using all of his experience with his brother's puppy influence to gain some advantage in the discussion. His tone is also scared, though; because Cas might tell him otherwise, and it would break Dean in his now sensible condition. What if his master (screw you brain) doesn’t want him?

But with an abrupt motion, Castiel raises his eyes to meet Dean’s. He is embarrassed, but he would never lie about a subject so important. He wants Dean, always have, yet never said a word since he knows the hunter could never reciprocated those cravings of him. Nevertheless, his features gained a convicted aspect as he spoke.

"Of course I want you Dean."

The reply is confident, as if no other answer was acceptable, and Dean’s stomach goes into combustion. Without thinking, he throws himself at Cas, making them both fell on the bed, Dean’s on top. He is licking Cas’s mouth, his cheeks, neck, snuffling and kissing all together, as his hands holds the former angel's waist in place.

"You want me! God! You want me! I’m so, so happy that you want me!" He burts in the middle of the sniffing, slightly wagging his hips like a pleased dog that just gained a treat.

Castiel is taken aback by Dean’s strength, also not having willpower to stop. He is weak. He can’t reject Dean, not with the several newly-human senses flowing inside of him, making him surrender, and making him just need Dean; so much that it hurts his skin to not touch back.

Castiel always felt himself linked to the hunter. It was Dean who taught him about the splendors and magnificent things of mortal life. Dean gave Castiel a will to think for himself. He gave Castiel freedom.

So yes, he wants Dean.

In a moment of awareness, the duo stop with heavy breathes, locking eyes. Dean, observing the want in Cas; and Castiel, seeing the hunter's inner walls of self-restraint breaking one by one.

They kiss.

It’s the first time they do so, lips touching in desperation, until a tongue traces its ways inside Cas’s mouth. He accepts it, swirling his flesh, saliva hot and wet dripping from the corner of his mouth. It’s a starving kiss, but also tender, in a caress that was long wanted by both.

When Dean lifts his head, Cas still follows his mouth, darting his tongue to lick his bottom lip. The hunter gazes at the man beneath him, recognizing the spell affecting his body, giving him confidence to seek an embrace from his master.

A fog blocks their vision, a mist of desire in their skulls, thrumming in lazy buzzes leaving behind only the feeling of warm touches, sensing only flesh against flesh; deprived of rational thoughts. They just need it.

With open kisses, Dean traces a wet line in Cas’s collarbone, unbuttoning his white shirt. Once he touches the smooth chest, his tongue is universal - nipping his pecs, sucking inches of hot skin, biting his ribs, and when he spins the soaking tip on Cas’s nipple, he moans, closing his knees around the hunter's waist.

Determined to make him fall apart even more, Dean sucks the pink nub again, as he feels a pair of hands creeping at his back. Coating his tongue with more spit, Dean wanders down to the navel, making his time there with teasing bites.

"Dean!"

Cas shrieks his name, a boiling flood swinging in his belly, traveling to his groin with an excruciating leisurely wave as the blood pumps into his veins like an uncontainable river. His eyes rolls and shuts as he surrender to the pleasure, surrender to Dean.

That gravely tone chanting the hunter’s name causes his entire being to quiver. It reaches his soul in a way only Castiel can, giving him permission to do more.

So he does, rubbing his negligent cock over the swell in Cas’s slacks, adoring the moderate pressure, as Castiel opens his legs further to give Dean space for the round movements.

Wetness ruins their boxers, infusing the place with a feral scent that Dean can inhale, losing his mind in it, drowing; almost tasting this intense perfume  that leaves him numb. He whimpers, kissing Castiel and biting his lips.

"What do you want Cas?" Dean asks, not leaving Castiel's mouth "I will do anything you want, just tell me."

And as Cas regain control over his thoughts, Dean’s words start to make sense. His throat is dry, his eyes almost shutting, and he doesn’t know what he needs for sure.

He wants Dean.

He wants to be filled wholly by the hunter, to feel them in unison, closing the fissure that kept both apart in hidden longings for so manutenção years, for him to crawl into his skin, imprinting in memory, voices and touches, craving his body with all of Dean.

"Want…" Cas stutters weakly, with bites in his shoulder, hands circling his hipbones "I want!"

"Anything Cas." Dean trails a line with his tongue from his middle to Cas’s lower belly, feeling the bulge on his pants slightly hitting his chin "Anything."

He will do anything his master wants.

It’s incredible, the way Castiel moans in huffs, grunting; his hands twisting the sheets in a grip. He gasps, lips parted, red and damp. Ducking his head he watches Dean on all fours, kissing his abdomen while the other hand massages the base of his length through the fabric of the jeans. He swallows as those greenish eyes gazes into his indigo ones.

"I want you inside me."

Husky voice back. There’s such a determination in his demanding that Dean is astounded by it. The hunter stops the kissing to just stare at him. Gulping, he nods a couple of times, dumbfounded is his compliance, breathing hard and waiting for Castiel's permission.

"Now Dean."

With the command, Dean removes his shirt. Cas lifts in one elbow, sliding his palms over the naked chest, and the hunter leans his skull backwards, shutting his eyelids as he feel Castiel’s digits running at his boiling skin. It makes him shivers all over again.

Without restrains, Dean plants a strong kiss in the former angel's pulpy lips, nibbling at then when he goes to the nightstand and, thank God for cheap motel rooms and their collection of lubes and condoms. He drags small packets to the bed, but before he engages into anything else, he opens Cas’s belt, slid the fly down, and finally lower his pants. In every new inch revealed, Dean kisses him. On his inner thighs, his knees, his calf, and the top of his feet, adoring the body of this man beneath him.

All Castiel is capable of doing is let loud groans outflow from his throat. He feels it growing arid, his voice rough, but he couldn’t care less.

There are no cloths; all they have is each other's bodies splayed on a motel bed, covered in thin perspiration. Dean urges for more of those touches, slapping his cock with Cas’s. They moan together with the sensation of the warm muscles squeezed between them.

One hand cups Castiel's jaw as Dean engages into another kiss. His palm continues to pump up and down in their cocks, pre-cum covering the lengths, while tongues spins and curls in the same pace.

Dean is larger, his muscle twitching together with Castiel’s, as he is calming the smaller one for the next step. His cheek rubs Cas’s face, going down to his neck. Dean ghosts the lobe in quick licks with the tip of his tongue, hearing moans in response. He smiles, and then bites the skin under the ear, gaining a spasm from the hot body rubbing his.

A whine erupts in the middle of groans, and it’s from Castiel this time, because Dean let go of his throbbing erection, lifting his torso to rip open one package of lube. The former angel sighs, as he knows the purpose of that item. Anticipation is a powerful weapon, for Castiel’s cock twitch in agreement just imagining the thick liquid being pushed inside by the hunter.

This part is easier, Dean already performed with plenty women, so he can work his slicker finger, massaging the small entrance while looking Castiel’s face, no-blinking, appreciating the format of his mouth open, his voice low and guttural with the new experience Dean was proportioning, as Cas’s body is bucking up against his hand.

But something odd makes Dean hesitate. It’s a different want, climbing his inners as his dick swelling with the idea forming in his mind.

His finger still stroke – not entering – the puckering muscle as he lowers his body to nip Castiel wet lips. His mouth goes near his ear releasing a breath to blow on it:

"Cas, turn over for me."

Dean says, and an electric wave blasts Castiel’s nerves.

"I want to see you face Dean." 

The hunter growls, but also cannot refute the strange will to do it… Doggy style. Dammit.

"Please Cas…" Pleading, he smashes their bodies, straddling Castiel’s thighs as their cocks keep bumping. "I’ll take care of you, I’ll be a good boy."

He doesn’t even know what he is saying anymore; swing his hips to gain more friction, to relief his longing, to please his master!

Breathing hard, Castiel puts one hand over the top of Dean’s head stroking his hair. His blue eyes locks its vision into the emerald orbs, seeing that a real desire arises there, broking out by the influence of the spell, by a will making Dean want to be good for Castiel, and to receive his approval, his tender and gentle touches. It makes the former angel light up with a crooked smile.

"You are good Dean."

"I am?"

"Yes."

"I am… A good boy?" He queries with a begging voice.

Castiel immerse his fingers into the light hair playing with it as Dean waits eager for his answer. This spell is really powerful, so Castiel just go along:

"Yes, you’re a good boy Dean."

Dean’s eyes widen in happiness, as he goes into ‘licking mode’ again with a smile spreading his lips, the hunter slurps mouth-opened kisses, giving space for Castiel to move as he started do turn over.

God. Castiel was on four for him, face pressed against the pillow as his hips lurches up in an invitation. He looks delicious like this. Each cheek so soft and tasteful, ready to be slapped by Dean’s thrusts. His thighs are also something. Strong, with the format of muscles drawn in visible lines. The mid of his ass is the best, though. The perineum is a soft white skin, leaning to his hanging hard cock, and on the other end is his entrance, shining pink with the lube spread on it, vibrating in tiny motions, ready, sinful delicious and fuckable.

Mouthwatering, Dean is dazed, griping the two fleshy rounds separating then, as his mouth darts forward, knotting the entrance between his lips as he kisses the tender skin, sticking his tongue in and licking Cas’s hole.

It’s a loud unrecognizable sound that escapes from Castiel’s mouth. The noise is throaty, desperate with the new amazing feeling soaking the middle of his entry, opening it little by little. The tongue enters in a hushed pace melting Cas. At this point, Dean is hard rock, feeling the amazing hot sensation it is inside the former angel.

Castiel becomes a mess of pleasure, delivering gasps and sighs every time Dean invades him. The colection of nerves in The area jolts with the new trusts, as the hunter sucks, shoves, swirls in abandon his tongue. There’s saliva dropping towards the perineum and it gives Castiel shivers - of the good kind.

Dean pushes his tongue once more, deep, feeling the hotness in Castiel , and when he’s buried in there he curls in circles with the rim pulsing around his flesh, lavishly. He goes back placing a kiss there. Cas is shaking with want, ready for more as Dean takes another package of lube coating his fingers with half of it.

Castiel feels a hand running up and down his spine calming him from the high. Slowly Dean lowers his warm, sweat chest against his back. He plants a kiss on his shoulder while a grip on Cas’s hips keeps him in place. The hunter nibs his ear:

"Breath."

He whispers, playing with his fingers in Cas’s entrance, sliding two at one time. He is so relaxed from the tongue fuck that they go in easily. One by one each joint enters creating a new kind of invasion in Castiel. The former angel arcs his back with the feeling that stretches his inner walls to soon receive a bigger volume. When Dean is fully inside, his two fingers deepen until the knuckles, stopping only to let Cas adjusts. Then, as he sees his breathing slowing down, both fingers come out and in with a controlled pace, as the hunter inhales sharps breathes, because Castiel is hot and wet, moaning in a fog of hunger, twisting in the mattress, his hips twitching. It’s all so good and intense that Castiel doesn’t know how he is enduring so far.

Dean is the same. He holds the base of his forgotten cock so he can’t cum with the vision; with Castiel completely destroyed, accepting him, receiving pleasure from him, and all Dean can think is how good he is being for Cas, and how much this idea seems to make him delighted – a happy puppy.

Dean licked Cas’s entrance as a third finger slide in.

"Dean!" He stutter, closing his hands on the mattress.

The hunter moves in again, this time crooking all three digits, drawing a heavy breath from Castiel, as his voice echoes in gasps.

"You like it, Cas? Is it good?"

Castiel chokes trying to answer, swallowing hard:

"Yes! V-very!"

Smiling in content, Dean pumps his fingers until the very end of them, hitting the same point in Cas, stretching each side of his hole, while listening to the amazing sounds the former angel is making.

It’s enough, he can’t hold back anymore.

On his knees, Dean takes out his fingers to clutch at Castiel’s hips. He complains about the sudden miss, but – with widened blue eyes – he feels the wet, hot tip of Dean’s cock caressing his entrance up and down, already slick with lube and pre-come. A kiss on his nape makes Cas turn his head, meeting Dean’s mouth sideways in a kiss.

"You’re ready?" He asks, in concern and permission.

"Yes Dean." Comes the answer in small puffs.

Licking his mouth, Dean involves the head of his length aligning it carefully in the middle of Castiel’s cheeks, never stopping to stroke gentle circles in his thigh. Inhaling, Dean closes his eyes as he feels the tip entering, being englobed by the puckering hole little by little, his cock pumping in quick jolts – mouth falling agape – as his muscle goes in, and in, and in until it’s wholly, completely and amazedly buried inside Castiel.

"Fuck!" He shouts, breathing hard.

In.in.in.in.

It’s all Dean can think, gasping in huffs, his chest uneven with the frantic heartbeat.

Cas lifts his hips arching his back allowing the hunter to enter deeper. He feels so … Filled and enclosed by Dean that his brain is stunned by the pleasure coming from their act. He is dizzy, trembling with the sensation, his inner walls throbbing, accepting Dean and making both as one.

He cries aloud with the first hit. Dean goes out and in with a rhythm motion, unhurried in the begging, gaining speed as the noises filling the room are only from his gasps, Castiel’s moans, and the immoral sounds of flesh against flesh. The hunter lets half of his cock come out with a cold chill hitting the skin there, but once he enters again all he can process is the scorching wetness of Castiel. His hole vibrates with each thrust – lube dripping to the perineum and coating Cas’s thighs - and Dean is only capable of gripping harder at his hips with a guttural howl, shoving the former angel body forward and then back in synchrony with his push, increasing the strength of each yank. His dick only sinks further and further, quivering in famine.

Already so lost in desire, Dean drops his torso, gluing his chest in Cas’s back. One forearm goes under his belly, holding him while he sets one hand in the former angel shoulder, grasping it and pushing down. Cas is keening, his hands up on the sheets now. He throws his head backwards, resting the ear against Dean’s jaw. Castiel’s spine forms a small curve as his ass is jutted up – all in fours for Dean. Soon both of the hunter hands are at his shoulders forcing him to meet his blows, his cock spearing into Castiel so hard that it would leave purple bruises as a reminder he had claimed this man as his.

The hunter has his voice in a new tone of hoarse, so as Castiel. The former angel moans, with Dean yelping behind him. At some point, Dean twists his waist, making his cock swirl while sliding in with a fierce thrust. It hits that spot inside Castiel, and he opens his eyes with a loud shout as a wave of passionate delight dissolves him, running through all of Cas’s nerves.

"Dean! A-Ah!"

He’s wailing, running a hand towards the hunter nape, grabbing his hair, nails scratching there. Dean swings his hips, sliding one hand in Cas’s elbow, then entangling their fingers on the bed. He pulls Castiel even closer, which makes him balance on his knees – still with Dean so deep inside. They move together in small movements, savoring the pleasure shock striking them.

Nipping Cas’s ear, Dean breaths hot against his face. His orbs are shut, his body perfectly fit in Castiel, and he is close, so, so close.

"Dean…" He calls, wheezing his name into some kind of prayer, longing for Dean to continue, to give him everything.

"You’re… So tight… And wet… Feels… So good. You smell and feels so good Cas."

He says whatever comes in his mind, at a loss within pleasure sinking his cock over and over in Cas.

"Hot and wet…" Continues, his voice coming in quick puffs as he kisses the smaller one neck. "Sucking me in, not ah-not letting me go… You’re so perfect Cas… Want you all… Want to be good for you."

"D-Dean, its S-so good!"

"’m good for you Cas?"

"Yes!"

"Wanna be a good boy for you…"

"Y-you’re good boy Dean!"

Dean buries his nose in Cas’s throat, biting the space between his shoulder and neck. It leaves a mark as Castiel gives a cry.

Before he can control himself, Dean is beating his groin against Castiel’s cheeks. They scream their names in harmony, with the hunter entering, pushing his cock into the hilt, the swollen scarlet muscle being slurped by Cas’s hole without mercy. The pressure around his length leaves him wobbly; as so as the fullness of Dean makes Castiel whimpers.

Dean hurries his motions without pity, one hand circling the base of Cas’s cock, pulping it up and down at the same speed his dick goes in and out the puckering rim – sliding easily inch by inch and hitting the sweet point inside Castiel that makes him gulps and groan. As Dean howls, holding the strong legs beneath him in place, Cas puts one hand back in the mattress, as the other still twists the brown-sandy hair on Dean’s skull. He can fell his breath hot against his neck, and there is nothing in that room but the incredible act they’re performing.

"Dean! Dean! Harder!"

Dean shuts his eyes, burying himself in long thrusts, jerking Castiel at the same pace as he obeys – very pleased – the order his master gave. He hurls forward, ears whirring as Dean lost his senses. He is blind and deaf; there’s no time, no sounds, only the feeling of Castiel involving his length, sucking him in, in, in, and almost not giving space to go out. It’s tight, burning, and it triggers all of his muscles at once.

"C-Cas, ‘m gonna-gonna!"

There are screams, moans, grunts and a puffy husky voice, reducing them into beasts seeking relief in the burning skin they’re trapped in, hunting pleasure.

The litany of growls becomes a shameless symphony.

Digging until the swollen red base, Dean is entirely swallowed in. The rim is narrow, boiling, binding him in place. Castiel doesn’t let him move anymore. He wishes only to sense the fullness in him as the hunter pumps a warm, wet wave inside, filling all of Cas in one go. Castiel stammer in long breathes; Dean’s coming and coming deep inside as the hunter hisses, shoving one more time, then another, thrusting until there’s not one drop left to load. Cas sobs with the throbbing cock shaking his insides. The flow jostles against the sensitive spot in Castiel with a strong spurting, altogether with the hands on his cock makes him cum almost at the same moment, coating his belly and the sheets in white.

Breathing is no longer a necessity, but a forgotten wish. They inhale what is left of the oxygen in there, panting, huffing with coarse hums.

When Dean leaves the inside of Castiel, dragging part of his cum outside, the former angel hisses with the loss and wet feeling. However soon there are arms holding his waist, a forehead glued in his as Dean lets both lungs recovers. The hunter closes his greenish eyes with tiredness – from the high he was.

……..(…).….…

Dim lights enter the room, but it’s from the lamp beside the bed. Dean opens his eyes wide, and then closes with the discomfort. Suddenly aware of where he was and what he had done last night, the first thing he does is realize Castiel is awake, laying on his side. He doesn’t even care they did it... Bare skin – actually, it was a lot better this way. He just gulps, knowing that he no longer feels the impulses from the spell, yet his body craves to get closer to Cas. However the worst part in him now is the shame.

Shame because he doesn’t know how to proceed.

So what Castiel will do? They will depart again? Not seeing each other for how long? For Dean believes he is incapable of letting Cas go.

"Hello Dean."

He says, and the hunter only murmurs in agreement:

"Is your head clear now?"

Dean shrugs, nodding.

"Good."

"Cas…" He begins, but Dean is only eloquent with his body language. Words were never his stronger attribute.

So he just squeezes Castiel, bringing his body into an embrace. The former angel tugs in the heat, putting both arms around his shoulders.

"It’s okay Dean. It was a powerful spell."

The former angel says, as if to purge Dean of his actions from last night, but the hunter doesn’t believe in this. Is Castiel still having doubts about what they did? Sitting on the bed, Dean keeps one grip in Cas’s wrist as he frowns, staring him:

"Cas what the fuck? I told you that I was myself yesterday."

"Not completely."

"Not-Dammit Cas!"

In an abrupt motion, he swirls his body, so he is on top of Castiel, holding his forearms on the bed. He seems to debate with himself for a while, before going down and placing a kiss on Cas’s lips. At first there’s a surprise noise coming from both of them, but soon the moist fleshes are melting together. When Dean spins his tongue before ending the kiss, he stops for brief seconds, just gazing at the blue iris.

"I’m not gonna simply walk away and forget what I did. What we did. I’m not a jerk like that."

"Dean, I understand if you-"

"You know shit; stop talking as if you do."

Blue eyes stares Dean in wonder. His forehead frown a little as Castiel is trying to put the pieces together – to be certain of what he is listening.

"Dean, are you saying… About this?" He gestures between them with his head.

"Like I said, I’m not a jerk." He releases Cas slowly, laying on his side again "I don’t regret it. Well, probably the licking part, and the ass wagging, those were screwed up things."

Cas lets a chuckle out that makes Dean smile quickly, turning his head to look at him.

"So we are good?" The hunter asks, back to his normal tough tone.

"Yes Dean, we are."

"Nice. ‘Cause next time I’m sure as hell I don’t wanna do it ‘doggy’ style."

'Next time.' Castiel thinks about it for a second, processing what is happening in this bed, in this rotten motel room in a town he barely knew. It’s incredible, exciting and almost unbelievable. Dean and him.

Dean grabs the sheets to cover them; he wants some sleep, but before he twists his body he mumbles one last thing, and of course Castiel is curious about what he just said:

"Dean, what is it?"

Cas hears a huff as a lower – embarrassed voice – erupts after a loud cough:

"Wanna see your face next time…"

Dean whispers, as Castiel lets a crooked smile adorn his face, going under the sheets and pressing his chest against Dean's back. He doesn't retract, and the former angel can finally breath in relief with this acceptance.

"Okay, Dean."

It's the final thing Cas says before falling aslep together with his hunter.

Yeah, his hunter. Castiel likes the sound of that, patting Dean's head a litte with his fingers, hearing a content sound coming from Dean.