[ it feels safer, with the door clapped shut behind them. it's certainly warmer, and it has a cozy, intimate feel, like they're tucked away from the world in this tiny, private place just for themselves, free to kiss and touch and press near to one another without any worry of being seen, or interrupted.
it's a little slice of heaven. it's impossibly exciting. dean has been the object of his affections for so long now that castiel had all but given up on the idea of ever actually having him to himself, of ever feeling him, touching him, kissing him. it feels like being drunk, like there's a giddiness wriggling in his belly like a hundred butterflies, coursing through his veins like an electric current. it's been.. it's been a long time, since he's felt anything like this. meg's the only other person in this world that he's ever wanted so badly, that has made him feel alive simply by being nearby him, touching him.
so castiel doesn't have any fear anymore, doesn't have to hold back.
dean's jacket falls to the floor in a rustle, and castiel shrugs off his own as well, feels lighter for its loss. his hands are back on dean immediately after, settling onto his broad shoulders, sliding down his strong arms, over biceps and elbows and forearms, settling onto his wrists to pull him near, and nearer as he begins stepping backward toward the bed.
and all the while he is, of course, kissing dean. castiel kisses him like he's hungry for it, craving it, as if there's nothing more important in this moment than him, as if he couldn't survive even a moment without his mouth, the warmth of it, the sweet, slick slide of their tongues, the heady flavor of dean's mouth. it's exquisite, every moment of it, and castiel drinks it all in with greed, his head spinning and his blood singing. he can't hear anything beyond the quick rushing sound of their breaths, the pounding in his breast, and the good, pleasing noise of their kissing, soft, wet sounds that are just as good as the smooth feel of dean's mouth against his own. castiel is opening up with ease, kissing dean with real fervor and no shame, no more timidity or hesitation, only raw and open want and desire and complete, absolute devotion.
it's not long before his knees his the back of the bed, and he's tipping back to crawl onto it, hands up to dean's neck and jaw again while he kneels on the mattress and coaxes dean along with him. ]
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it's a little slice of heaven. it's impossibly exciting. dean has been the object of his affections for so long now that castiel had all but given up on the idea of ever actually having him to himself, of ever feeling him, touching him, kissing him. it feels like being drunk, like there's a giddiness wriggling in his belly like a hundred butterflies, coursing through his veins like an electric current. it's been.. it's been a long time, since he's felt anything like this. meg's the only other person in this world that he's ever wanted so badly, that has made him feel alive simply by being nearby him, touching him.
so castiel doesn't have any fear anymore, doesn't have to hold back.
dean's jacket falls to the floor in a rustle, and castiel shrugs off his own as well, feels lighter for its loss. his hands are back on dean immediately after, settling onto his broad shoulders, sliding down his strong arms, over biceps and elbows and forearms, settling onto his wrists to pull him near, and nearer as he begins stepping backward toward the bed.
and all the while he is, of course, kissing dean. castiel kisses him like he's hungry for it, craving it, as if there's nothing more important in this moment than him, as if he couldn't survive even a moment without his mouth, the warmth of it, the sweet, slick slide of their tongues, the heady flavor of dean's mouth. it's exquisite, every moment of it, and castiel drinks it all in with greed, his head spinning and his blood singing. he can't hear anything beyond the quick rushing sound of their breaths, the pounding in his breast, and the good, pleasing noise of their kissing, soft, wet sounds that are just as good as the smooth feel of dean's mouth against his own. castiel is opening up with ease, kissing dean with real fervor and no shame, no more timidity or hesitation, only raw and open want and desire and complete, absolute devotion.
it's not long before his knees his the back of the bed, and he's tipping back to crawl onto it, hands up to dean's neck and jaw again while he kneels on the mattress and coaxes dean along with him. ]