Sounds Like Heaven
Title: Sounds Like Heaven.
Fandom: Supernatural.
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R.
Word count: 867
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.
Beta: Sala and Steph looked it over for me. Thank you, lovelies! All mistakes are mine.
Notes: Domestic one-shot.
Summary: Dean never thought he'd say this, but he was really starting to like average sex.
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This fic is also available as a podfic.
Read by: me.
Duration: 6:22 mins.
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Dean never thought he'd say this, but he was really starting to like average sex. Not that the quality of the sex itself had really degraded as such, but after years with the same partner, with sex happening on a fairly regular basis, it was simply a natural development for things to cool off after a while.
Sure, every now and then he'd pull out all the stops and make a night of it, but gone were those almost desperate couplings where everything was so intense that every orgasm felt almost like dying, yet he still longed for more almost immediately. It was like he'd been living on fast-food sex for most of his life. Easily gotten, incredibly tasty, but ultimately not that filling.
But then Cas had come along.
Dean hummed happily, lying on his back, hands behind his head, as Cas kissed his way leisurely down Dean's body. He was half-hard, and it would be totally nice if Cas would just go a little further south, but really, there was no rush.
Not like the heady days when they'd first tumbled into bed together. They'd never really had a honeymoon phase as such, their lives simply not allowing for much romance, but there had certainly been times where Dean had wondered if he could actually die from overload of great sex. Because it really had been great. And it still was. But there was just no more urgency.
After something like five years, Cas finally managed to convince Dean that he wasn't actually going anywhere. Sam was safe, the world wasn't ending and there was no longer any real reason for Dean to treat every orgasm as if it might be his last. So he learned. He learned the value of slow, unhurried, and sometimes half asleep sex. He experienced the novelty of falling asleep hard, hours of slow lovemaking not leading anywhere, and being absolutely fine with it. There was also something to be said for those times where one of them was up for it and the other wasn't, and they somehow always managed a satisfying compromise.
“Tomorrow,” Cas had mumbled into his pillow when Dean had started nuzzling his neck the night before. Cas as a mortal was of course a morning person, whereas Dean had always been more alert at night, so this was a common thing. But since Dean loved nothing better than waking up to sex, he'd happily snuggled up to Cas and gone to sleep, assured that they would both be there in the morning, and that warm, lazy sex would definitely be happening.
And true enough, Dean had woken up to soft kisses along his collarbone, warm hands stroking his sides and a bony knee working its way between his own, making a space there. Dean just relaxed and enjoyed himself, knowing that Cas would let him know when or even if it would be audience participation time. Cas lowered himself down onto his stomach between Dean's legs and finally put his mouth where Dean liked it best. He sighed with pleasure as Cas gave him a slow morning blowjob, knowing exactly the best rhythm and twists of tongue. He took his time about it, not really upping the intensity, but then again, Cas actually enjoyed sucking cock, something Dean never really got off on himself.
He was half asleep again from lazy pleasure when Cas finally decided that his jaw was tired, and easily brought Dean to a languid orgasm. Screw waking up, Dean could totally go for a nap after that. But he wasn't an asshole, so when Cas crawled back up for a kiss, Dean obligingly reached down and offered a helping hand. Cas came with a small grunt, and Dean kissed him through it.
And then Cas rolled out of bed, easy as you please, and went about his day. Dean would have been annoyed at that if he hadn't been feeling like warm egg yolk, ready to ooze right off the bed if someone jostled it.
“You really should get up. Sam will be here in half an hour,” Cas said, puttering about, making coffee and finding clothes.
“Sam can put on his big boy pants and wait. I ain't gettin' outta this bed for another hour at least,” Dean drawled in his best imitation of grumpy old man. Which, hilariously, ended up sounding a lot like Bobby.
“I think it would be more prudent if you were the one to put some pants on.”
Oh right. Naked. Oh well. Sam could just go bleach his eyeballs. Dean was totally staying in bed.
Cas flung a pair of boxers at him, and since they landed squarely on his face, Dean found it hard to ignore them.
“Put those on, and I'll let you sleep for another fifteen minutes.”
“Deal,” Dean sighed, squirmed his way into the underwear, and promptly curled up again, pulling the covers up to his chin. Cas breezed by a minute later, laying a fond kiss on his cheek and tucking in the edge of the blanket. The whole apartment smelled like coffee, the sheets smelled like Cas, Sam was coming over, and fifteen minutes sounded like Heaven.
End.