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Mapping You

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“An angel came to watch over me, and then decided to fall for me to stay with with me.”


Mapping You 

 

The water pressure at the bunker never disappointed and apparently Cas either, because when he entered their room (yes, their room, he still couldn’t believe it), it was plunged in darkness except for a couple of  at caramel pumpkin scented candles (Cas loved them and Dean kinda did too) at each night table. And to top it off, the man himself was shirtless and leaning against the headboard with a book in his hands. Perfectly disheveled hair and a soft smile on his silken lips a combination he was a goner for. 

 

Without taking his eyes off his angel, he reached out blindly to lock the door. Yes, it was late, but he wasn’t taking any chances what with Claire and Kaia, Jack, Sam and Eileen handing around. 

 

No cockblockers allowed. He was getting laid. Just thinking about it made him dizzy with want. And it wasn’t like he didn’t get any yesterday, but still. He was always ready to go when Cas so much as looked at him. Must be all that decade-plus-penned up frustration. 

 

“I don’t know why you wear clothes,” rasped Cas in that tone that made Dean’s toes curl almost painfully and his groin throb. “You should always be naked when you’re with me,” continued the ex-angel completely aware what those words coupled with that purring voice and that gravity gaze did to Dean. 

 

Shit. Little Dean was up and ready to go and his ass was just as eager. Couple of sluts the pair of them. Oh, well. 

 

He was far from being body and sex shy. But God help him if under Cas’ heady attention, Dean’s suaveness took a dive into the ocean floor. Standing there awkwardly dressed in his hotdog pants and white tank-top  like one of those Greek statues (but less graceful) he licked his lips suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

 

All the while, his boyfriend (boyfriend? Lover? Partner? Shit, it was an ordeal to find the right term for them because none felt like it encompassed what he and Cas meant to each other), was waiting patiently for him to finish his internal monologue. The saint. 

 

Flustered, he looked through his eyelashes (just like he knew drew Cas wild) at the same time he bit his lips and  without breaking eye contact, he shucked off his clothes leaving him in his underwear and socks (he should take them off too because he must look like a dork). But before he could do it, Cas’s words distracted him.  

 

“Come here, beloved,” said Cas,  right hand  extended towards Dean, book casted aside. And he went, almost tripping over his feet like an overeager German Shepard. 

 

‘C’mon man, you’ve got to stop calling me sappy shit like that,” he retorted, as he felt a fiery blush settle on his cheeks. “You gotta lay off the Jane Austen books.”

 

“Oh, I’m afraid I cannot grant you that request, my sweet. Now that I can say and do all that I’ve been holding back all these years, I refuse to stop.” And there it was again, that soft smile that teared Dean’s heart wide open. 

 

“Sap. You’re so sappy you’ll trap me in the bed with all that goo,” he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek. He felt giddy. 

 

Each word of Cas propagated heat from head to toes, and the bastard knew it—knew how his words and unwavering attention made Dean squirm but at the same time crave more. 

 

“Now, now, don’t fight it. I know for a fact you love all that ‘sappy shit.’ Now come here and kiss me.”

 

It was so easy with Cas; it has always been, yet this closeness, this intimacy, it made all that had been bottled up inside just bubble up and leave him  out of kilter in the best way possible. 

 

Shaking his head fondly, he went and did just that. “Hmm, that I can do.”

 

As soon as he got closer, he was hauled into strong arms and found himself straddling delicious thick thighs. Underneath the bedsheets, Cas was naked and semi-hard. A moan flitted from his throat and was swallowed by a greedy mouth that took all he gave and returned it doubled. Arms found anchors around his waist and his own hands buried themselves in chaotic dark hair. Needy sounds were traded back and forth as they rutted against each other, cocks wet and aching. His underwear was beginning to feel uncomfortable but he didn’t want to quit Cas’s assault on his mouth. 

 

“Uh, uh, Ca-s, more.” His voice sounded as breathy as he felt, weak and coming apart by the foreplay. 

 

Large capable hands tightened on his hips and slowly crept up his back, fingertips walking up the staircase of his spine. He tighten his own hands in Cas’s hair, eye to eye they breathed each other’s warmth. High on each other and ready for more. But before parting, they dove back into each other’s lips with a fervor only reserved for the irresistible. Teeth nibbled at sensitive lips and tongues rubbed against one another while hips undulated in a decadent rhythm and muscles rippled with effort. Nimble fingers curled around his neck while the others rubbed and tweaked at his nipples. 

 

He felt blissed-out and hypersensitive, endorphins-high. He broke the kiss first and before Cas could complain, he found his angel’s pulse point at the neck and lashed onto it. Even Cas’s sweat taste good. He sucked and licked at it to make sure his mark was clear for all to see. Yeah, he was a possessive bastard but who could blame him. At his attentions, he felt a choked-off cry against his lips and a prominent fully hard dick nudge against his own. 

 

“Fuck, Cas, I’m so close, baby,” he admitted. He would be embarrassed if Cas wasn’t in the same boat. 

 

Cas’s right hand fingers closed around his nape while the others palmed his ass bringing them impossibly closer to one another. Laying a chaste kiss on his abused lips, Cas continued peppering open-mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck, all the way down his shoulder line and up the hollow of his throat where he buried his nose and licked it for good measure. 

 

Meanwhile, Dean’s hands curled around Cas’s muscled shoulders as he threw his head back to give Cas more room to do whatever. He didn’t know if he was moaning, whimpering, grunting or begging—all he knew was that his vision was swimming with phosphenes and the buzz under his skin was making it difficult to think. 

 

“You’re so beautiful, Dean. So exquisite when you let me see you, hear you, feel you. So so beautiful.” 

 

When Castiel saw Dean’s soul for the first time in Hell, he was totally captivated. Dean’s light distempered him. That deep, honest soul. Castiel plunged into it and without knowing, he began to fall in love with what it told him. Words were unnecessary between the Righteous Man’ soul and Cas’s grace , because they spoke and understood one another with every touch. They knew each other profoundly, the journey from Perdition enough to bound them implicitly. 

 

As easily as he was deposited on Cas’s lap, he was now on his back. It was such a turn-on that Cas was still so strong even without his angelic powers. Before Dean could make his brain come back online, Cas divested him of his offending underwear which ended up on the floor somewhere. Sayonara! 

 

Once his cock sprang free so did a gasp. His mouth wasn’t lonely for long though, but the kiss didn’t last long. Cas was apparently on a mission and Dean was on board. His cock and ass were lonely and demanded attention. But of course, Cas had to drag it out, the fucker. Sharp teeth bit the jut of his chin before switching to his left ear, hot breath and wet tongue erasing his brain’s hard-drive. His hands went down to grab Cas’s ass to get their hips acquainted again. God, the slide was fucking perfect, hard dick against hard dick—both hot and heavy. 

 

“Oh, Dean!”

 

“Cas, yes…”

 

“Not yet, my love. A bit longer. You can do it, hmm?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, one of his nipples was enveloped in wet heat and the other was being meticulously rubbed and pulled. His legs trembled folded at the knees. 

 

“Cas, you gonna make me, ah, come like this.”

 

Immediately, the attack on his nipples ceased and with a mischievous look, Cas’s fingers traced down his ribs at the same time his lips trailed down his chest, made a pit stop to nip and lick his bellybutton and spent a long moment mouthing at his belly. He was self-conscious of the flabby skin there, the result of too many burgers and pies, but Cas always made it a point to show him how much he liked it. 

 

His hands were now bunched on the bedsheets, he could barely hold his eyes open. He was pliant and prime for the taking and if Cas didn’t hurry, he was gonna take matters into his own hands. Lost in though, he didn’t noticed that Cas had bypassed his dick. How dare he?! I mean, his poor dick had been so patient, and to be blatantly ignored was unacceptable. He made a noise of displeasure which Cas countered with a slap on his butt. As if that was discouraging. Anyway, he was indignant on behalf of little Deanie. 

 

“Any complains?” The tone was so casual that Dean felt the urge to kick him out of bed. But his horniness won. So he grunted and pointedly stares at his dick, refusing to look into those stupid blue eyes or the prominent erection between Cas’s thighs that made him salivate like a perv. 

 

Heat simmering low now that someone was being an asshole, he folded his arms under his head and tried to look as blasé as possible, which was kinda a fail. When his gaze returned to Cas, it was to see him almost kissing his right foot. He startled and shifted the weight to his elbows to look at Cas. 

 

“No! C’mon, Cas, not my feet. It’s gross.” His cheeks must be burned to a crisp because he felt overheated. They’ve done the deed plenty and nothing had been saintly, yet when he was confronted with tenderness and reverence, he became a blushing bride.

 

Cas demystified the intricacies of love at every turn, with his care and supportive quiet presence, with his blunt feelings that left no room for doubt, with one quick look and a casual touch. And Dean consumed it all, unashamed—all he never had and needed, never thought he deserved but wanted. 

 

“What do you mean? Nothing of yours is ‘gross.’ You just came out of the shower and you were wearing socks,” Castiel whispered in that low sultry tone so full of love Dean’s heart could barely take. “Let me love you how I want to. How you deserve. Yes?”

 

Fuckfuckfuck.

 

Like he could ever say no to this cunning bastard. He always got his way. Always knew how to make Dean surrender. 

 

With a pout (that he’ll never admit to) and crossing his arms petulantly against his chest, he allowed Cas to do as he wished. 

 

“Thank you, Dean.” It was that sincerity, those fond eyes, those lips forming a smile as they kisses his toes that disarmed him completely. 

 

Each toe received a little peck, those fingers held and caress his feet like something precious. He won’t cry. He won’t, dammit. He was a grown man and a badass hunter and he refused to cry during sex. 

 

Shit.

 

Kisses turned to little nips, and as much as he enjoyed those, biting always got his engine running. Cas knew it of course, the little shit. 

 

“Mmm, ah, yes…” 

 

A chuckle filled the air as Cas moved up his feet to his legs. His legs that splayed instinctively to accommodate his angel. Nip after nip, up his shins to the spots behind his knees, Cas kneaded his skin which now donned a thin sheen of sweat. His dick hard and needy, hot and wet with precum just waiting for Cas to hurry the fuck up and swallow it. 

 

“You like this, don’t you Dean?” Cas questioned against the juncture of his hip and thigh, tongue sweeping languidly as teasing fingers flutter over the head of his cock and detoured to play with his pubic hair. “You like it when I mark you as mine, don’t you? When I stake claim of you? You like it when you feel owned, huh? Answer me, Dean.”

 

And how can Dean resist a command said in that throaty voice full of want for him? He couldn’t, he was but a lowly human. 

 

He licked his dried lips and swallowed, the words were sticking to his throat. 

 

“Ye- yeah, Cas. I do. I do. Now, c’mon, sweetheart, move it.” 

 

At his words, all movement stopped and he was greeted by a lifted eyebrow that did very interesting things to his crotch. They had barely started and he felt like he ran five miles before having breakfast. 

 

“Please,” he whispered and he knew the instant Cas’s resolve broke. Score! 

 

By now, his arms were stretched over his head in an effort not to drag Cas we’re he wanted him, against his lips or around his throbbing dick. Both at the same time would be nice. All the while, he never stopped staring at the ex-angel, too enticed by the picture of utter erotism he made between Dean’s legs. 

 

“Shit, Cas, stop being a damn tease and-“

 

His words were  abruptly cut off by Cas’s mouth swallowing him to the root in one fell swoop. His hips snapped up automatically and he would have felt bad if he didn’t know Cas miraculously lacked a gag reflex (hallelujah). 

 

“Fuuuuck! Unf, God, Cas…” From them on all his brain functions where whisked away by desire. 

 

The air smelled not only like the scented candle but also of clean sweat and sex, it shouldn’t work but damn if it didn’t smell like the best thing ever. 

 

Legs spread wider and hooked over Cas’s elbows, hips almost jackknifing off the mattress and knuckles white with effort, he was a mess of groans and moans and sweat. His nerve endings afire as Cas bobbed his head up and down his length with smooth strokes. Teeth teasing the length and suckling the head and tongue sweeping maddeningly at the slit. Drop after drop of precum consumed by a voracious mouth. Cas’s right hand fingers joined the fray and massaged his balls for a bit and then followed the path to perineum, subtly stimulating his prostate before fingertips circled his entrance.

 

At that, his hips stuttered and his stomach clenched and a low pleasurable cry dislodged from his throat. 

 

“CasCasCas, I…, Cas, uh.” 

 

Hitched breaths coiled around his windpipe and his back arched. He wasn’t gonna last like this. He shut close his eyes and tried to breath to steady himself. Hands made fists at his sides. 

 

Cas paused to look at him, he couldn’t see it but he could feel the weight of those eyes. Always. The bed dipped as Cas straightened and got on his knees. He could feel the heatwaves emanating from his angel’s flesh. He needed contact. To be skin-on-skin. 

 

“What do you want, Dean? Do you want to ride me into oblivion or do you want me to wreck you?” As Cas’s voice rumbled those words, his ass clenched around his angel’s fingers still inside him and his poor dick twitched so hard it made his stomach flutter. 

 

Panting, he locked eyes with delirious blue ones and the words left in a barely contained whimper, “Wreck me, sunshine.” 

 

And wreck, he did. His ass was suddenly empty of fingers and he was being manhandled to his hands and knees, which scrambled to cooperate because they were previously reduced to jello. 

 

Without further ado, Cas parted his butt cheeks and the lubed-coated blunt head of his cock unceremoniously stretched his loosened rim. A bit of burn made his hole tingle, after all fingers could never compare the size and girth of Cas’s erect dick. A gasp left him at finding himself stuffed full, skin white as it stretched over his tense knuckles. His head fell between his shoulders and his eyelids shuttered with pleasure. 

 

“Oh, God, nn!”

 

His words were met with a soft kiss at his nape while slender fingers carded through his sweat-matted hair—it felt like the best version of heaven, Cas’ flesh against his and in him. 

 

“Are you ready, my Dean?” crooned his angel, form still and tense behind him. Tone taut, just like his hips, waiting to finally snap. 

 

Dean drew in a deep breath and swallowed, fortified his stance and nodded. But Cas didn’t move, not until Dean looked over his should, met his passion-lidded eyes and whispered, “Yeah.”

 

With an airy little smile and a curt nod, Cas’s arms coiled around him and he began that delicious calculated roll of his hips that drew shaky exhales from Dean’s mouth. Open mouthed kisses littered his nape and shoulders sprinkled with hungry little nibbles and soothing licks. Grunts bursted from the back of his throat as each sharp thrust met that special bundles of nerves that ignited jolts of pleasure I’m the pit of his belly. 

 

“Fu-fuck, shit… Cas, harder!”

 

With a particularly stinging bite and a suck to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, Cas disentangled himself from Dean’s body and in one graceful movement, he was impaired on Cas’s cock. No longer on his hands and knees, now he was sat on his angel’s lap, clutched tightly to his chest, still facing away and with his legs wide open and red cock displayed proudly. He was sure they made a sinfully gorgeous picture—hedonism and depravity. The most perfect corruption. 

 

Cas pistoned into him at a steady rhythm, fast enough to coax drop after drop of precum but slow enough to keep his climax at bay. All the while, Dean’s hands enjoyed the firmness of Cas’s asscheeks, his head thrown back to rest at the ex-angel’s shoulder. Cas for his part kept his fingers busy by torturing Dean’s puffy nipples at the same time his teeth played with his earlobe. 

 

His own hips ground down at each snap of Cas’s hips, rocking together in a sumptuous adagio tempo. 

 

“That’s it, my love. Take what you need, fuck yourself on my cock, Dean. And let me hear how good you feel,” Cas commanded, voice thick with the need to spill inside Dean. 

 

And because he wasn’t  wallflower, he held onto Cas’s proffered hands and let loose. Punched out uh uh uh left his mouth as he shifted a little and ground down that massive hard cock, up and down up and down, hard and fast, he knew he wouldn’t last long at this rate. But he wasn’t the only one, he could feel the jackrabbit pace of Cas’s heart and his rapid breaths and those chocked off grunts and those hands now bruising his hips. Lingering kisses chased the rivulets of sweat trailing down his back. 

 

“Fuck Cas, I’m almost, oh! Sweetheart, I’m-“

 

But his orgasm was suddenly paused by a wide palm wrapping firmly around the base of his dick. He bit down a frustrated whine and his ass clenched indignantly around Cas’s length, it was satisfying hearing that little broken cry. 

 

“Cas, you mother-“

 

Suddenly empty, dislodged from Cas’s lap and on his back, legs thrown over taut shoulders and hole once again stuffed—he was being kissed within an inch of his life. Plundered on both ends without mercy, he was the luckiest son of a bitch in the world. 

 

“I want to see your face when you come on my dick. You’re breathtaking when you let go,” Cas confessed against his kiss-swollen lips. And Dean melted. It didn’t matter how many times he hears it, because each time Cas meant it. There was no deception on those eyes that made his breath hitch unfailingly. 

 

With a teasing smirk, Dean cradled his angel’s head in his palms and kisses his forehead—a sweet gesture in the middle of debauchery. Then, he whispered, “Then make me, sweetheart. Fucking make me let go.”

 

And with that, hands braced on either side of Dean’s head, Cas went to town on his ass. Eyes locked and mouth agape, slaps of skin-on-skin and squelching sounds, ragged breaths and drawn out moans, sweat-slicked skin and fleet-footed thrusts of hips—they fucked each other with abandon. His prostate nailed masterfully with each drive of Cas’s hips. He reached for his cock and gave it a few strokes, immediately, a chill rode up his spine and his back arched—spams of pleasure overtook him and that’s all she wrote. 

 

When he and Cas fucked (because he refused to call it making love, even thought that’s what it was), he swore Cas was trying to fuck out his soul. Really. Dean felt like he was experiencing a near-death experience. And it was so damn good, so deliciously, viciously good. To be thoroughly possessed and manhandled and not having to ask for what he wanted because Cas knows what drove him wild by instinct.  

 

Dean fell into his orgasm like a trapeze artist does in the air—spinning and then flying. Ropes of hot cum hit his stomach and the mattress beneath him, he could hear only the rush of blood in his ears and Cas chanting his name the same way a priest does a litany. Cas’s hips stuttered on their exquisite undulation and his hands clasped around his hips so hard that he’ll be looking for tattooed fingerprints on his skin later on—mmm, just the thought made his spent dick twitch. A wave of cum so hot it warmed him up from top to bottom (or maybe it was the excretion) filled him to the brim and trickled down his thighs. He couldn’t help but moan at the dirty yet hallowing sensation—baptized once again with his angel’s cum. 

 

Cas’s weight toppled him onto the mattress and the sensation of wetness on the sheet was not very pleasant, they’ll have to change the sheets before turning in for the night. But it could wait until his bones regenerated. At the moment, he couldn’t move a muscle if he tried. With a grunt, Cas turned them around and away from the mess and he let himself be handled however Cas wanted. 

 

Cas always railed him so good that immediately after, he wanted more. Oh, to be twenty years younger. But there’s always tomorrow, so many tomorrows. 

 

Dean had been tired of superficial love affairs for years, done with carnal desire that ended between the sheets and empty words. He wanted a love that he thought only existed between the pages of the romance novels he’ll never admit to reading when he couldn’t sleep at night. A love that might exist and was possible, but for someone like him, in his line of ‘work,’ it was an Utopia , so shoved to it to the  darkest recess of his mind where other impossibilities resided. 

 

There was a time Dean believed love wasn’t real, but then Cas entered his world and proved him wrong. To him, Cas was all which he thought he’ll never needed or deserved. His angel was all that was unattainable and Dean convinced himself that didn’t want it, but now, he can’t imagine his present and future without  the ex-angel. He had lost Cas more times than he cares to remember. Never again if he can help it. 

 

Dean had spent almost his entire life feeling homesick, and now that that feeling is absent, he was sure he couldn’t survive feeling it again. 

 

Castiel’s  arms wrapped around Dean’s bare frame from behind as his lips peppered adoring kisses on his shoulders and neck, and his nose inhale the intoxicating dark  scent of his freckled skin. His Dean was so brave and beautiful, extremely intelligent and unbelievably compassionate, fierce and fearless—Cas would die for him a thousand deaths, he would live for Dean an eternity, he would fight  for him tooth and nail the injustices done against him.

 

Cas’s love was so loud it was earsplitting—in every touch and look, every smile and every forehead kiss—Dean couldn’t help but reply in turn. He wanted no doubt of his feelings to exist in Cas’s heart. 

 

Spent, blissed-out and reveling in the post-coital afterglow, he embraced Cas’s arms around him and turned his head, that hair was a beautiful disaster made by Dean’s unruly fingers. 

 

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

 

Those eyes alight on him smiled. 

 

Love in his eyes.