Skills

Title: Skills.

Fandom: Supernatural.

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Rating: NC-17.

Word count: 661

Spoilers: If you know who Castiel is, you're good.

Warnings: Mild D/s.

Feedback: Yes please.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.

Beta:

[livejournal.com profile]

mithrel . Thank you! Notes: Originally posted here unbetaed.

Summary: Dean keeps asking for it.

Links to this fic on LJ, on DW, and on AO3

* * *

“Cas, please,” Dean moaned, tightening his grip on his own cock, until a large drop of pre-come dribbled out the slit. “Come on, please. I'm begging you.” Dean's other hand reached down to fondle his balls, and he spread his legs to provide the best view for Castiel, sitting calmly on a chair by the end of the bed.

“Continue, Dean,” he said calmly, making Dean groan with frustration and bang his head back against the headboard.

“Ugh, I'm gonna explode, Cas, I swear...”

“No, you won't. Not if you do as I say. Now continue. Slower.”

“Fuck,” Dean grunted, but he did obey Castiel's order and slowed his strokes. Sweat was beading on Dean's naked chest, and Castiel's eyes followed the path of a drop making its way to the sheets.

“Very good, Dean. Very good,” he purred.

“Are you gonna let me come sometime this week?”

“Don't exaggerate. As long as you follow my orders... I might be persuaded to let you come soon. Very soon.”

“Oh God, thank you!” Dean let his eyes fall closed and stroked himself from root to tip, careful not to go too fast, in case Castiel decided to deny him release again. He did seem to allow Dean's touching of his balls, so Dean let himself find a little relief from squeezing them and rolling them between his fingers somewhat more roughly than he usually enjoyed.

The sudden sound of a zipper was loud as a gunshot in the tense air of the room, and Dean's eyes flew open. Castiel was opening his pants slowly, and Dean was appalled at the needy sound he made at the sight. But goddammit, he was so hungry for any sort of stimulation that just seeing Castiel reach inside his underwear was almost enough to make Dean spontaneously combust.

Castiel caught his eye with some difficulty, and actually smirked, the bastard. “Keep going slow. And feel free to finger yourself. But do not come yet.”

Fucking finally. Dean was pathetically grateful to be allowed to go further. It had been over an hour now of Castiel just sitting there, watching Dean and keeping him on edge. So he eagerly sucked two fingers into his mouth, covered them with saliva and reached down to push one of them inside himself. “Fuuuuck,” he moaned.

“Not yet,” Castiel warned.

“I won't, I swear,” Dean gasped, almost making his words untrue when he pushed in the second finger, and started fucking himself shallowly with them both. “But, oh God, please tell me it won't be long!”

“Not long, no,” Castiel said, his voice unsteady as his hand sped up its movements below the waistband of his boxers. “Not long at all.”

Castiel's eyes dragged across Dean's naked body and Dean felt it like a physical touch. “Please, Cas. Please, please, please...”

“Almost, Dean. Almost...” Castiel breathed, stroking himself rapidly. He hadn't even gotten undressed, just sat there with his hand down his pants, and yet, Dean could hardly remember ever having seen anything hotter in his life.

“Cas, I need to come. Fuck, please, I need to come so bad...”

“Yes, Dean. Yes. Now.” Castiel let his head fall back, tensed his thighs and stroked himself to completion. Dean watched hungrily, and as soon as he heard the word now he was off. He jerked himself off frantically, thrust his fingers in deep, and in mere seconds he came all over his chest and stomach.

“Fuuuuuck,” he rumbled, his voice rough from begging for over an hour. “You are a cruel son of a bitch, Cas.”

Castiel shed his clothes swiftly, and crawled onto the bed, until he was straddling Dean's thighs. “Perhaps. Yet you still ask for this. Again. And again. And again.”

Dean smiled lazily. “Yeah. Because you're just too damn good at it.”

Returning Dean's smile was the only reply Castiel offered, before bending down and licking up the evidence of his skill, cooling on Dean's skin.

End.