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Dean comes awake to feel Castiel’s scruff abrading gently at the nape of his neck, his long fingers tracing elegant and soft patterns up the length of his thigh and ribs, and his erect dick pressing firmly against his backside.
They made love three times last night, each time more intense and amazing than the last. And this morning Dean is tired and comfy and deliciously sore. And he’s middle-aged, and just so… human.
But the thing he learned after hooking up with an Angel of the Lord is that a wavelength of celestial intent has no refractory period.
And he’s not sure if he’s trying to make up for lost time or if he really just wants to be with Dean that much, all at once, but they wake up like this often. And even if he’s not in it for the bang, Dean is definitely never going to get tired of being this close to his Cas.
Dean smiles into his pillow, snuggling back into Cas’s warmth. Cas’s fingers tighten on his hip and he shifts, ghosting kisses up and down Dean’s spine to make him shiver despite the warm cocoon of down in which they are nestled. The fingers of his other hand begin to work their way with purpose to the base of Dean’s spine, and lower, until his thumb grazes over his hole, still loose and slick from the night before.
Before Dean can feel any discomfort at the intrusion of that first digit, a wave of cooling grace eases its passage, and Dean sighs in bliss, relaxing back into the touch. Behind him, Cas murmurs a wordless sound of approval, and traces the tip of his nose along the edge of Dean’s hairline, and he shivers again.
The thumb is replaced by a long, slender finger, reaching slowly for the spot where a warm curl of pleasure begins to unfurl in Dean’s gut. The first finger is soon joined by a second, and, after long moments of quiet sighs and muffled gasps, then there is a third. Cas is careful, unhurried, and works him open with tenderness before Dean’s hum of sleepy desire makes his breath hitch slightly and he pushes his whole length slowly inside.
For several moments, Cas just holds him close and breathes into his shoulder, and Dean leans back against the solid warm plane of his body and feels every inch of skin that is pressed against the man behind him, every breath through the chest at his back. He’s surrounded on all sides, Cas’s firm lines behind him and his strong arms holding him close. Dean can smell Cas’s aftershave and shampoo, and that faint scent of ozone that seems to follow him everywhere. He tips his head a little further forward in invitation and Cas again mouths at the base of his neck.
Cas twitches inside of him, and Dean automatically cants his hips back slightly. He feels more than hears the deep subterranean groan from the angel, who starts up a slow grind with his pelvis. Cas’s hand remains firm on Dean’s hip, holding him still, letting him know that the angel is happy to do all the work this morning.
Dean lets his eyes flutter open, watches the dust motes tinged gold by the morning sun through the slats of the blinds flicker and float through the quiet motel room. It’s still early. They’ve got time.
Cas’s hand drifts up to his chest, and gently grazes over his nipple, pulling Dean closer to his broad chest. A gruff whisper in his ear tells him that he’s so beautiful in this light, all golden hair and golden freckles, and that he’s very much loved.
Cas brushes smoothly against his prostate and the warmth in his belly grows to a heat, and he moans, voice raspy with sleep and with wanting. Cas murmurs soothing nonsense, his breath ghosting against the shell of Dean’s ear, and he shivers again when the angel’s tongue darts out to trace along its edge.
Dean slowly pushes back, idly clenching and unclenching his muscles as the mood strikes, and is rewarded with a deep groan from behind him as Cas thrusts a little deeper, a little harder.
Dean knows that Cas can hold off his orgasm almost indefinitely, that they could spend the morning lazily trading touches, until Dean is a half-melted puddle of pure pleasure, before finding release. And if they were home, then yeah, Dean would consider it, as he would also consider making Cas get up afterwards to fetch coffee so that they could while away the rest of the day snuggling in bed.
But they’re still a half day’s drive away from home, and once they get there, they have a lot of hard work ahead of them. They can prolong this blissful interlude as long as they want, but as soon as it’s over they need to get back to the real world, to their responsibilities. To their family.
Cas pushes in again, deeply, as if he is trying to embed himself permanently into Dean’s body, into his soul, and Dean twists his head around, blindly seeking his lips. On his next thrust, Cas steals Dean’s moan with an open-mouthed kiss and a sharp spike of pleasure darts along Dean’s spine.
The angel’s bottom arm works its way between the mattress and Dean’s ribs to snake around his torso and keep him in place, while the other one purposefully makes its way to where Dean’s neglected cock, now fully hard and leaking, is bobbing gently against the sheets. He closes his long, warm fingers firmly around his length and Dean bucks up into the grip, softly chanting Cas’s name in time with the movement of Cas’s wrist.
Fine tremors wrack his body as Cas brings him softly and yet inexorably closer to the edge, and a tingle starts up in his fingers and toes that has him curling them unconsciously against the bedding. Cas continues to murmur and soothe, the soft rumbling timbre of his voice a balm against the rising tension within him caused by the slow steel of Cas’s body against him, inside of him.
When he comes, it’s sweet and presses behind his closed eyelids and spreads a honeyed warmth along his languid limbs. He sighs Cas’s name and surrenders to the strength and care of the man behind him. Dean’s own name puffs out against his ear, a benediction, and Cas throbs inside him as his thrusts stutter and still.
For a long time, he feels only the warm silk of Cas’s skin against his own and the golden light of morning against his closed eyelids. Cas slips out of him, slowly, gently, and he shifts to his back before he opens his eyes.
Cas is looking down at him, the morning sun behind his head haloing his hair with gold and making his luminous blue eyes glow even more strongly from his half-shadowed face. Dean smiles at his beauty and leans in for a kiss, his eyes fluttering shut once more as Cas lavishes his lips with love and attention. They pull away, but remain close enough to still breathe each other’s air. Dean lets his eyes roam around the room, falling on their neatly packed bags and their cleaned weapons. Everything is ready to go. Just not him.
Not yet.