[ dean doesn't let up. there's no pause to recover, no brief respite for him to catch his breath or ease the pleasure, and castiel thinks to clamp down on it, to close his mind to the sensation so he doesn't finish, so that they can keep going, so that they can try something else, everything else, but in the end he doesn't bother. chances are, this is just the way that dean prefers it, unadulterated, unaltered, pure and human and simple, and in this way he's relinquishing control to dean, allowing dean to pull him as he chooses, to decide how much pleasure he gets and when. he'll do this the human way, because if he doesn't, what's the point? sex is a human instinct, a human privilege, so if he doesn't experience this like they do, he's doing both himself, and dean, a disservice.
so castiel lets go. he shuts out all other thought beyond the necessary feeling of dean's mouth and how good it feels, how it makes his belly twist in a way that's savage and exquisite both, the heat building so quickly and suddenly that he can't hope to handle it, and it runs out of control like sand through his fingers, impossible to hold. closer and closer he rides, and castiel doesn't bother to disguise his reactions, the way his body twists and his breath comes faster and faster, ribs straining beneath muscle and sinew and smooth, flushed skin, his heel digging hard into dean's spine like a spike pinning him down.
when dean's blunt fingernails rake hard down the thin skin of his thigh, castiel can't help the sound he makes, guttural and rough as sandpaper, nerve endings singing, his fingernails hooking brutally in dean's scalp. he's close, so close, he knows it, recognizes it for what it is. ]
Dean I'm - I'm gonna - Dean --
[ it's about all the warning dean will get; it he doesn't move away, castiel can't hold back, he's fit to burst, doesn't want to hold back. he's coming either way, into dean's mouth, or against his chin and neck, his fingers, whatever's there, and it's intense but it's thankfully very human. that doesn't stop him, however, from bucking hard, spine bending and body snapping tense as a string, a low, satisfied groan twisting deep in his throat. ]
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Date: 19 Jan 2016 03:55 (UTC)so castiel lets go. he shuts out all other thought beyond the necessary feeling of dean's mouth and how good it feels, how it makes his belly twist in a way that's savage and exquisite both, the heat building so quickly and suddenly that he can't hope to handle it, and it runs out of control like sand through his fingers, impossible to hold. closer and closer he rides, and castiel doesn't bother to disguise his reactions, the way his body twists and his breath comes faster and faster, ribs straining beneath muscle and sinew and smooth, flushed skin, his heel digging hard into dean's spine like a spike pinning him down.
when dean's blunt fingernails rake hard down the thin skin of his thigh, castiel can't help the sound he makes, guttural and rough as sandpaper, nerve endings singing, his fingernails hooking brutally in dean's scalp. he's close, so close, he knows it, recognizes it for what it is. ]
Dean I'm - I'm gonna - Dean --
[ it's about all the warning dean will get; it he doesn't move away, castiel can't hold back, he's fit to burst, doesn't want to hold back. he's coming either way, into dean's mouth, or against his chin and neck, his fingers, whatever's there, and it's intense but it's thankfully very human. that doesn't stop him, however, from bucking hard, spine bending and body snapping tense as a string, a low, satisfied groan twisting deep in his throat. ]