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Bent In Toward the Palm

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“I’m trusting you with my life here, Gabe,” Dean grunts.  He clings to the bedsheets like they are his lifeline, spread out on his belly on the mattress in the guest bedroom, flushed face pressed against the cool covers.  Gabriel shifts between his legs, running a soothing hand over Dean’s buttocks as he eases four fingers into Dean’s loose, puffy hole. Dean bites his tongue to stifle a moan and his toes curl against the foot of the mattress.

“That’s an exaggeration,” Gabriel says.  Dean huffs.

“Uh huh.  I saw a report about an Omega who died after getting fisted.  Things are delicate down there!” Dean complains. Gabriel pauses in his ministrations, his fingers easing out of Dean’s slick hole with a slick pop!  There’s synthetic slick everywhere, and the overworked muscles of Dean’s rim clench as they try to close around nothing.  His thighs glisten with shiny slick, and his whole groin smells like vanilla cupcakes. Gabriel leans in and licks his rim, tasting his sweet natural slick mixed with the chemical synthetic.  He nuzzles his chin against Dean’s plump ass.

“You want to stop?”

Dean grumbles and tilts his hips towards Gabriel.  “No. Feels good,” he says. Gabriel smiles and kisses Dean’s ass cheek, using mostly his teeth, and then slides his fingers one by one back into Dean’s ass.

“So why the hell were you reading up on fisting death cases when you knew we were gonna be doing this tonight?” he asks.  Dean shrugs.

“I wanted to be prepared.  In case-- oh.  That’s good ,” he sighs, and his eyes flutter closed and he groans into the sheets.  Gabriel moves his fingers deep inside of Dean’s ass, stroking against that pleasurable spot inside him.  It makes warmth coil in Dean’s belly and he responds in kind, prasing Gabriel and chanting his moans.

“I’m gonna add my thumb now,” Gabriel says.  There’s a brief moment of pause, then the click of a cap opening and the cool sensation of more lube drizzling onto the crack of his ass.

“Shit,” Dean hisses when he feels gabriel’s thumb pressing against his rim.  He’s so fucking full. His ass is throbbing and it hurts, but his cock is so hard that it overwhelms any aches he feels.  He pushes his face into the sheets and gasps when suddenly, Gabriel pushes into him. And then he’s got a fucking hand. Inside.  Of his ass.

“Oh fuck, it’s too much,” Dean whimpers, whole bosy shaking.  Gabriel stills, a soothing hand petting back and forth on his round asscheeks, and then he presses a warm line of kisses along the back of Dean’s thigh.

“Tell me when,” he says.

“Can’t,” Dean croaks, and he shifts his hips and rocks back onto Gabriel’s hand inadvertently, and he groans.  His ass feels like he’s about to split open. There’s a distinct pressure on his bladder, on his prostate, in his heavy swollen balls that are hanging between his legs in desperate need of attention.  He groans. “I forgot English.”

“So it feels good?” Gabriel asks hopefully, flexing his fingers inside of him.  Dean whimpers and jerks his head in a nod. Gabriel moves his fingers again, and Dean’s warm insides clench against him.  He moves his wrist a centimeter and Dean cries out, hips rocking forward. His cock brushes the bedsheets and precum drips onto the white linen.

“Fuck me.  Fist me,” he gasps.  Gabriel smiles and grabs ahold of Dean’s thigh, tugging him bodily closer.  His fist pushes deeper within Dean, he opens his hand and flexes his wrist. Dean whines and thrusts his hips, and Gabriel begins to slowly fuck his hand in and out of his ass.  He thrusts shallowly, barely even moving his hand, but Dean is already falling apart under his touches. He’s making these hitched noises, small whimpers and sobs of pleasure that he muffles in the sheets.  Gabriel kisses his thigh and moves his finger, stroking his prostate and Dean comes like its a punch to his stomach, semen shooting from his swollen cock and onto the rumpled sheets below him.

“Ugh, fucking sexy,” Gabriel says, and he scoots forward and pulls his hand from Dean’s ass with gentle ease.  He tugs at his rim with his finger, stretching it with his thumb, and pulls his own hard erection from his baggy boxers briefs.  He holds it in his hand and rolls on a condom, his knot already swelling at the base. He slaps it against Dean’s thigh and then slips into the gape of Dean’s asshole in one swift thrust.  Dean keens and cries, tilting his hips forward, pushing backward onto Gabriel’s cock.

“Fucking sloppy,” he gasps.  He grabs ahold of Dean’s hips and fucks forward, nails digging into his skin, leaving half-crescent marks on Dean’s pale skin as he rocks and rocks and rocks into his messy, sloppy hole.

“Oh.  Oh. Mhmm, Gabriel,” he whines.  “Remember--”

“Don’t know.  Yeah,” Gabriel grunts.  With a final hard thrust, he pulls out and rips the condom off, coming in thick white stripes over his flank.  He flops onto the bed beside Dean with a flaccid, sticky cock and a sated smile on his face. Dean collapses beside him, whining, and he smiles when Gabriel reaches out and oats his shoulder.

“That was awesome, buddy.  You want me to clean you up?”

“That’d be nice,” he mumbles, exhausted.  His eyelids flutter and Gabriel leans over, kissing his cheek and then springing from the bed.  He walks over to the other side of the room and picks up some wet wipes, then tosses them onto the bed and pulls a handful from the bag.  Gently, he takes his time to wipe away the lube and sweat and spunky mess from Dean’s ass and thighs. Dean hums, happy and sated and exhausted.

“You need to get up and go to the bathroom,” Gabriel pats Dean’s thigh and drops the bundled wet wipes onto the floor beside the bed, then tiredly climbs back onto the mattress and plops down.  He sighs, closing his eyes. “And drink some water. Then come to bed.”

Dean sighs, and rolls over.  He kisses the back of Gabriel’s neck, then pinches his chubby side before he sits up and rolls off the bed.  “Tomorrow is your turn.”

Gabriel grins.  “Lucky me.”