[ it rips over him like an ocean wave, hot pleasure drowning him, filling him, and for a sweet, fleeting moment there's nothing but this feeling, warm bliss drowning out everything, every thought, every worry and concern. he can understand it, why dean medicated himself with this, why he chases it so hard, because in this moment nothing can hurt you, in this moment you are not even yourself, there is only heat, and satisfaction, and peace.
but it passes too quickly, and castiel soon settles back against the rumpled covers, his skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. he feels used up, scoured clean, filthy in the best sort of way, and when dean leans in to suck his cock clean it's almost too much, too sensitive, and he jerks with warm, rolling aftershocks that leap like arcs of electricity over his body and straight to his cock. he can't complain.
the cotton soon clears from his mind, however, and castiel feels the cool touch of guilt sinking into his belly like a stone. he'd had such grand plans, you know, of giving dean everything, touching him and kissing him and bringing him pleasure but he'd gotten tangled up so easily, spent himself without even getting a hand in dean's pants. it's nothing a little grace couldn't fix, but - that's hardly the point.
with great effort, castiel heaves himself up to his elbows, his breathing still labored, but slowing, and the hand in dean's hair drops to his nape, pulling gently, though when he speaks his voice is low and dark with command. ]
no subject
but it passes too quickly, and castiel soon settles back against the rumpled covers, his skin slick with a thin sheen of sweat. he feels used up, scoured clean, filthy in the best sort of way, and when dean leans in to suck his cock clean it's almost too much, too sensitive, and he jerks with warm, rolling aftershocks that leap like arcs of electricity over his body and straight to his cock. he can't complain.
the cotton soon clears from his mind, however, and castiel feels the cool touch of guilt sinking into his belly like a stone. he'd had such grand plans, you know, of giving dean everything, touching him and kissing him and bringing him pleasure but he'd gotten tangled up so easily, spent himself without even getting a hand in dean's pants. it's nothing a little grace couldn't fix, but - that's hardly the point.
with great effort, castiel heaves himself up to his elbows, his breathing still labored, but slowing, and the hand in dean's hair drops to his nape, pulling gently, though when he speaks his voice is low and dark with command. ]
Come here.