Dean chuckles, reaching to try and steady Cas as he himself climbs out, hand on the wall as he steps over the lip of the tub. He's definitely standing in a puddle, and the bathmat squishes beneath his feet, wet and cold.
Eugh. ]
Thanks. [ The towel is welcome, even if he can't see very well, and he rubs it over his head, ignoring his bobbing dick. ]
Help me with what? [ he doesn't have angel eyes Cas, he's assuming he's in the clear. ]
[ castiel stands with his wings dripping, the puddles beneath them growing and only adding to dean's discomfort. drying them is going to take more than two towels. ]
It's not required by law. Don't gotta do anything you don't want to.
[ He can barely see the outline; he's reminded of the shadows in the barn, the silhouette or something far greater than himself outlined on rotting wood.
I would hope it's not required by law. That would be unjust.
[ that's not to say he doesn't want to do it, however.
but first — he spreads his wings both to full length, something that's sadly only possible because of their truncation — and shakes them vigorously, splattering the entire room with water and wet feathers. little bits of black down tufts sticking to dean's skin, and the walls, and the clean towels.
a few fall down at his feet when he's done, and he folds them back in part-way. ]
But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to "return the favor" as they say.
[ He sees it coming before it happens, but he still doesn't have time to shield himself at all, and once Cas is finished shaking himself off like a great pyranees, Dean's got feathers and down stuck to him, on his face, on his body, all over the towel he was holding. ]
Dude. [ they just showered!!! ]
Oh. Um - well. I guess if you want to, that's different.
he blinks at dean, and steps over to begin picking down and feathers from his body. carefully, so that he never quite touches dean's skin, which is a possibility only afforded to him by his "angel vision". ]
[ Cas is kinda driving him nuts right now; his hands are like, right there but not touching any part of him. It's insanity inducing. ]
Would want to? [ They're talking in circles but Dean's gotta be sure, you know? Consent, all that. He's a good boy, doesn't wanna fuck shit up with his best friend. ]
[ he's focused now on picking one last bit of down from dean's chest, before he kneels to remove a few stray feathers from his legs, folding his wings in close to his back as not to catch them on the counter.
when he's on his knees, he looks up at dean.
his dick is right at eye-level. ]
But I have to admit I don't really know what I'm doing.
[ But Cas down there on his knees is another story all together, and Dean is having some trouble remaining coherent. ]
Learning curve.
[ Or something, he's not sure. It's hard to even think when there's an angel down on his knees, wings visible, picking wet feathers from your leg hair.
[ he would have to get behind dean, which would be easier since dean has no wings, of course, but... it isn't really necessary, is it? he can touch just fine from this angle, and with that thought in mind, he doesn't hesitate to do so now. reaching up and closing the fingers of his right hand around dean's stiff, heated erection.
he doesn't expect how good it feels in his hand, and his face flushes down to the hollow of his throat, though dean can't see in the near-darkness. ]
[ castiel hums, and it's a surprisingly satisfied sound. he likes the feeling of dean's dick in his hand, the solid weight of it, the silky skin covering hard flesh. his own penis rises in sympathy, filling again like it did in the shower, a slow burn of pleasure tracing his spine— obviously, as anyone would expect, angels have no refractory period.
but rather than touch himself, he wraps his other hand around dean's shaft, too. dragging both hot palms along his length from base to tip, engulfing him. ]
[ Aren't they lucky Dean likes the feeling of Cas' hand around his dick. It's twitching in said hand, hot and flushed, a little bead of precum beading at the time. ]
Ah, yeah. Like that. [ His breathing is shuddery, tongue wetting his lips. ] Told you you weren't gonna have a problem.
this statement he punctuates by leaning in to lick the bead of precum from the soft, slick head. dean tastes clean, like shower water and musk, and castiel likes it enough to taste him again, and again. slow, torturous pumps of his hands as he drags his slick, hot tongue over and over the head. ]
[ It makes him laugh, choked as it is, because he's too distracted to be weirded out by Cas, of all people (angels?) saying 'penis'.
He's caught off guard when Cas takes matters into his own mouth though, and wraps his lips around the head of his dick. Dean nearly explodes right then and there like a preteen in a sock, a hand dropping to slide into Cas' hair and grip, a gasp in his throat. ]
[ castiel may be inexperienced, but it's immediately obvious that dean likes his mouth on him— the fingers in his hair attest to that, a sensation he finds, maybe surprisingly, that he likes. the tight pull, the sting of it. he whirls his tongue around the head of dean's dick, then drops one of his hands so he can swallow him down further. an inch, maybe two, the heavy weight of it dragging across castiel's tongue, making his gut twist in anticipation.
[ at least castiel, of all people, won't know any better if dean cums down his throat in the next five seconds. instead of wondering what's happening next, he takes dean in another half inch, sucking and slurping, spit sliding down his chin and his throat.
he squeezes dean with his fingers, trying to stroke him off while he blows him, over-eager even if he isn't the best at multitasking. ]
[ Like, really close. Cas might be fumbling and not great at multitasking, but his mouth is hot and wet on Dean's dick and his hand is down there too, touching and teasing. ]
[ castiel glances up at dean. he knows what he means. what's going to happen if he doesn't pull off, and he's torn. he wants to taste dean, but he also wants to watch dean. his gaze rakes the length of his body from his face down to his stomach directly in front of him, and decides he might try to have his cake and eat it too:
with another tight squeeze of his fingers, he gives dean one last stroke before letting one of his hands fall away so he can take dean a little deeper. another inch of hot, heavy cock sliding across his tongue, dean's slippery glans bumping against his soft palate and making his throat twitch on reflex. saliva drips down the front of his throat, and he rubs the rough flat of his tongue against the veined underside, teasing the ridges.
he can feel it, the way dean's cock continues to stiffen, tightening closer toward release. and when it happens, he'll let it burst across his tongue before pulling back so he can watch first-hand.
if dean makes a mess of him in the process, so be it. ]
[ Dean is watching Cas with heated eyes, hand skid in his hair, gently gripping, heart fluttering in his chest. It's good, a mouth on the dick is always good provided there's no teeth, and it doesn't take a lot longer before he's delivering on his promise, coming hard, groan in his throat.
But then Cas goes and pulls off mid jizz and Dean gasps. You better still be stroking his dick or he's gonna cry. ]
[ he definitely does not want dean to stop. he strips him fast and hot with one slick hand while steadying the other on dean's hip. though dean could grab and force himself back down castiel's throat if he wanted. castiel isn't stopping him.
but what he wants becomes clear as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth. what he wants is for dean to ejaculate on his face. to paint him in sticky white stripes. to lay claim on him. ]
[ It's tempting, but so is blowing his load all over Cas' face, so that's what he opts to do. Wild, how the whole night went in the direction, but he's not real upset about it, and as he comes, ribbons of sticky come striping Cas' face, he can't find himself to have any regrets.
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Dean chuckles, reaching to try and steady Cas as he himself climbs out, hand on the wall as he steps over the lip of the tub. He's definitely standing in a puddle, and the bathmat squishes beneath his feet, wet and cold.
Eugh. ]
Thanks. [ The towel is welcome, even if he can't see very well, and he rubs it over his head, ignoring his bobbing dick. ]
Help me with what? [ he doesn't have angel eyes Cas, he's assuming he's in the clear. ]
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Your erection.
[ duh.
too bad. but he does. ]
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Oh, uh. You don't have to do that.
[ It's weird, right? Like that's weird. ]
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[ he's slowly spreading his wings— 'shake like a dog' is about to win out. ]
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[ He can barely see the outline; he's reminded of the shadows in the barn, the silhouette or something far greater than himself outlined on rotting wood.
What he does not know is what Cas is planning. ]
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[ that's not to say he doesn't want to do it, however.
but first — he spreads his wings both to full length, something that's sadly only possible because of their truncation — and shakes them vigorously, splattering the entire room with water and wet feathers. little bits of black down tufts sticking to dean's skin, and the walls, and the clean towels.
a few fall down at his feet when he's done, and he folds them back in part-way. ]
But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to "return the favor" as they say.
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[ He sees it coming before it happens, but he still doesn't have time to shield himself at all, and once Cas is finished shaking himself off like a great pyranees, Dean's got feathers and down stuck to him, on his face, on his body, all over the towel he was holding. ]
Dude. [ they just showered!!! ]
Oh. Um - well. I guess if you want to, that's different.
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[ what did he do.
oh.
he blinks at dean, and steps over to begin picking down and feathers from his body. carefully, so that he never quite touches dean's skin, which is a possibility only afforded to him by his "angel vision". ]
I would.
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Would want to? [ They're talking in circles but Dean's gotta be sure, you know? Consent, all that. He's a good boy, doesn't wanna fuck shit up with his best friend. ]
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Mmhmm.
[ he's focused now on picking one last bit of down from dean's chest, before he kneels to remove a few stray feathers from his legs, folding his wings in close to his back as not to catch them on the counter.
when he's on his knees, he looks up at dean.
his dick is right at eye-level. ]
But I have to admit I don't really know what I'm doing.
it got smaller and smaller
[ But Cas down there on his knees is another story all together, and Dean is having some trouble remaining coherent. ]
Learning curve.
[ Or something, he's not sure. It's hard to even think when there's an angel down on his knees, wings visible, picking wet feathers from your leg hair.
He's so hard he's gonna die. ]
cas' dick
[ he would have to get behind dean, which would be easier since dean has no wings, of course, but... it isn't really necessary, is it? he can touch just fine from this angle, and with that thought in mind, he doesn't hesitate to do so now. reaching up and closing the fingers of his right hand around dean's stiff, heated erection.
he doesn't expect how good it feels in his hand, and his face flushes down to the hollow of his throat, though dean can't see in the near-darkness. ]
Just tell me...
[ tell him if he does it wrong.
or right. ]
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I don't think you're gonna have any trouble.
[ A warm hand, Cas warm hand at that, feels friggin' amazing. ]
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but rather than touch himself, he wraps his other hand around dean's shaft, too. dragging both hot palms along his length from base to tip, engulfing him. ]
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Ah, yeah. Like that. [ His breathing is shuddery, tongue wetting his lips. ] Told you you weren't gonna have a problem.
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[ :)
this statement he punctuates by leaning in to lick the bead of precum from the soft, slick head. dean tastes clean, like shower water and musk, and castiel likes it enough to taste him again, and again. slow, torturous pumps of his hands as he drags his slick, hot tongue over and over the head. ]
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[ It makes him laugh, choked as it is, because he's too distracted to be weirded out by Cas, of all people (angels?) saying 'penis'.
He's caught off guard when Cas takes matters into his own mouth though, and wraps his lips around the head of his dick. Dean nearly explodes right then and there like a preteen in a sock, a hand dropping to slide into Cas' hair and grip, a gasp in his throat. ]
Shit, Cas.
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for what, he's not quite sure. ]
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He groans again, smoothes his hand over Cas' hair and gently grips it, cock twitching on the angels tongue, beads of precum leaking onto his tongue. ]
Oh, God.
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he squeezes dean with his fingers, trying to stroke him off while he blows him, over-eager even if he isn't the best at multitasking. ]
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[ Like, really close. Cas might be fumbling and not great at multitasking, but his mouth is hot and wet on Dean's dick and his hand is down there too, touching and teasing. ]
Pull off or I'm gonna blow my load in your mouth-
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with another tight squeeze of his fingers, he gives dean one last stroke before letting one of his hands fall away so he can take dean a little deeper. another inch of hot, heavy cock sliding across his tongue, dean's slippery glans bumping against his soft palate and making his throat twitch on reflex. saliva drips down the front of his throat, and he rubs the rough flat of his tongue against the veined underside, teasing the ridges.
he can feel it, the way dean's cock continues to stiffen, tightening closer toward release. and when it happens, he'll let it burst across his tongue before pulling back so he can watch first-hand.
if dean makes a mess of him in the process, so be it. ]
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But then Cas goes and pulls off mid jizz and Dean gasps. You better still be stroking his dick or he's gonna cry. ]
No, no don't stop-
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but what he wants becomes clear as he closes his eyes and opens his mouth. what he wants is for dean to ejaculate on his face. to paint him in sticky white stripes. to lay claim on him. ]
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Yet, anyway. ]
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