Rock Salt And Feathers ~ Strange Afflictions

The Book Your Soul Is Writing By Mithrel
Home ~ Strange Afflictions
Rating: Nc-17 Disclaimer: I own nothing. I wish I did, but I don't. Summary: Dean's been having dreams. Warnings: Can be considered dub-con.
Cas kisses his way down Dean's chest. Dean has no clue how he'd gotten there, or what's going on, or even where he is, but Cas is moving down slowly, intently, as if he's mapping Dean's skin, licking and nipping and sucking and Dean's brain goes immediately south. Then, Jesus, Cas is taking him in his mouth and Dean decides to just go with it. It isn't the best blow job he's ever gotten, but it isn't the worst either, and Cas definitely makes up for his lack of experience with enthusiasm. Dean buries his fingers in Cas' hair, trying his hardest not to thrust, and for a moment he hangs there, shivering on the edge... And wakes up. He lies there, shaking, covered with sweat and confused as hell. Right, the motel room. Sam is asleep in the other bed. But what the fuck had that been about? He doesn't think of Cas like that, so why is he dreaming about him? He shifts, and winces. Right, he'd think about it later. There's something he has to take care of first. Once in the bathroom, he turns on the shower as hot as it will go, which isn't very, and strips off his clothes. He's so hard he doesn't think it will take long for him to come. He tries not to think about what had gotten him that way. He takes hold of his cock–gently because he's so close–and starts stroking. He tips his head back, letting the water fall on his face. He's so close, he doesn't need much to come...his mind is blank, but he doesn't need to think about anything, at this point it should take care of itself. But it doesn't. He can't come. Then his traitorous brain conjures up the image of Cas closing his mouth around his cock... He comes so hard he nearly falls over and has to brace himself against the wall for a moment. He is so fucked. He manages to put the dream out of his head. They have work to do, after all, and repressing is what he does. They'd been trying to figure out what had been making people in a town go insane and kill each other. Apparently some guy's mother had died, and he'd found a cursed ring in with her stuff. He sold it at auction, the buyer went crazy and killed her husband, then he took the ring and shot up his workplace, was arrested, had the ring taken from him in jail, then the intake clerk went nuts... It had been a huge headache, but the ring was melted down and Dean was beat. "Let's get outta here," he mutters, and Sam nods. "Yeah." They manage to make it back to the motel without getting into an accident, drag themselves into the motel room, and doctor their wounds (mostly cuts and bruises, nothing serious). Dean debates just collapsing into bed, but he's been on enough hunts to know that if he does that he won't be able to move in the morning. He spends about ten minutes under the shower, then sleeps like the dead. Things had mostly been quiet on the Apocalypse front, although there had been sightings of the Lost City of Atlantis, a televangelist in Nebraska had had a nervous breakdown in the middle of his talk about the Rapture, and, for some reason, ducks were drowning all across the country. "What the hell?" Dean mutters. "I mean the rest of it I get, but ducks?" "I dunno, man," Sam says. "There's nothing in Revelations about ducks," Dean mutters. Sure, he hadn't read the Bible much until recently, but he did know that much. Sam shrugs. "Don't ask me. Maybe Lucifer's gone nuts after all that time in Hell." "Like he was all that balanced to begin with." *** He had only had the one dream, and he'd managed to almost persuade himself it was a fluke. It's not like he's attracted to Cas. Or guys...well, OK, Cas isn't a guy but...anyway, that's not the point! So when he wakes up in the motel room with Sam gone and Cas spread underneath him, he has a moment of Oh crap, not again. But Cas' eyes are wide and dilated, his mouth is open and he's looking at Dean like he's suddenly found his purpose in life. They're both naked, and Dean guesses he really shouldn't be surprised by this. "Cas?" The angel takes in a shuddering breath at the sound of his voice. "Dean. Please. I need..." "What do you need?" Dean asks, mentally berating himself for it even as he puts a hand on Cas' hip. "I don't know." Dean takes a moment to consider the position they're in. This is a dream, he knows it's a dream. He really should wake up, but with Cas looking like that, pressed against him hard and squirming, he can't bring himself to. He looks over to the bedside table, and, sure enough, there's a bottle of lube. Well, why not? It isn't like this is real. He grabs the bottle. "I'm gonna fuck you, OK, Cas?" Cas whimpers and nods. When he brushes a finger against Cas' entrance, the angel grips his shoulders tightly. "Shh, relax or it'll hurt," Dean soothes him, although he isn't sure. Besides, it's only a dream, so it doesn't really matter if... He squashes that thought before it can form. Angel or not, dream or not, he isn't going to do anything that could hurt Cas. Cas takes a deep breath and lies back, as Dean pushes a finger into him. His breath hitches. "That's it, just relax," Dean murmurs, moving his finger in and out slowly. "Dean..." Cas grabs hold of his arm, stopping him. "What? Too much?" Cas hesitates, then shakes his head. "No. At least..." he trails off. "I'm glad you're here." What the hell? His own brain is indulging in chick-flick moments now. Sam would so never let him hear the end of this. Once he got finished bleaching his brain to get rid of the images telling him would put in it. "Yeah, me too." He's surprised to realize it's the truth. He'd have to rent Die Hard or something, this was ridiculous. He goes back to preparing Cas. When he's ready, Dean slips another finger in, adding more lube. Cas groans. "OK?" Dean asks, pulling his fingers out slightly. "Yes, yes, don't stop!" Dean's never been with a guy before, but there had been a couple of adventurous girls (not that he'd let them do much). Still, he knows enough to know what he's looking for. When he finds it, Cas shoots up off the bed. "Dean!" He chuckles. "Good?" Cas only groans and squinches his eyes shut. And, God, Cas is hot like this (it's OK to admit it, it's not real, he has no control over what he's doing or thinking), flushed, sweaty, his hair everywhere, practically begging Dean to fuck him. But he won't, not yet. He isn't going to hurt him. He spends enough time opening him up that his own cock starts throbbing in protest. Finally he pulls his fingers out and slicks up his cock. "Breathe out," he tells Cas, pushing just the head inside. Cas does, the breath turning into a whimper. Dean stops immediately. "You OK?" Cas nods tightly. "Do you want me to stop?" He isn't sure he can stop at this point, but if Cas says yes he will. "No!" And Cas pulls him down another inch, grimacing. "Hey, hey, don't try to force it. Take your time," Dean murmurs, stroking Cas' hair. He'd given up on anything resembling his normal behavior, considering the circumstances. Cas nods, and takes a shuddering breath, relaxing slightly around him. Dean does too, trying to think of anything but where he is, how much he wants to thrust forward. Cas pulls him down a bit more after a few moments. One more push and Dean has bottomed out. He stays still with superhuman effort. "Dean!" Cas whines, and he pulls out slightly and pushes back in. Cas gasps and pushes back against him, and he pulls all the way out, thrusting back in. Cas meets him again, and Dean takes Cas' left hand in his right, clutching at it as he fucks him. His mind is filled with a buzzing noise, and all he can focus on is Cas under him, around him. Cas. His angel. He isn't going to last long, he knows it, and there's nothing he can do about it. When Cas mewls and molds his hand to the mark on his shoulder Dean gives a hoarse cry and comes. When he wakes up he finds he's come in his pants, which is humiliating and disgusting, but not half as disturbing as the thoughts he'd been having during the dream. "His angel"? And he was glad Cas let him fuck him? What the hell? Dean keeps quiet for the entire morning, ignoring Sam's concerned looks and questions whether he's OK. Cas actually shows up after that, which is awkward as hell. He was still looking for God, and he hadn't been around much, but he had some intel on what Lucifer would try next. Dean can't look him in the eye. He knows Cas is confused and hurt by it, but he doesn't want him around right now. Sam's confused too. After all, Dean and Cas used to be all buddy-buddy, and now Dean's doing almost anything to avoid being alone with him, flinching when he brushes past Castiel on the way out of the motel room, and not saying more to him than is absolutely necessary. Dean ignores them both. Cas leaves after a week. Thankfully, Dean hadn't had any dreams during that time. He could just imagine how that conversation would go. Hello, Dean. What were you dreaming about? He shudders. The dreams continue, and he actually starts to get used to them, even look forward to them (not that he'll admit that, even to himself). He and Cas have sex everywhere: in the shower, up against the wall, in the backseat of the Impala. Cas sucks him off, or he sucks Cas off, or else he fucks him. Sometimes he comes before he wakes up, sometimes not. It's a miracle Sam hasn't noticed anything, since Dean can't exactly control how loud he is when he's asleep. But one night he finds himself in a motel room with Cas buried inside him. He freezes. He's never let Cas fuck him, never, in all the months he's been having these dreams. But it's good, better than he'd have thought, maybe because it's a dream, maybe because it's Cas. In less time than he'd like to admit he's pressing up into Cas' thrusts, making these embarrassing needy little noises. "Cas..." And Cas presses into him one final time. "Dean," he groans, and comes, and Dean clutches at him. Their eyes meet, and suddenly Cas freezes. Then, without a word, he's gone. Dean wakes up, hard and aching, wondering what the fuck that was. He doesn't dream after that. He tries not to be disappointed. After all, there's an Apocalypse going on, and he can't afford to be distracted. He hasn't seen Cas since the last time he showed up, and that was weeks ago. Usually he checks in by phone every so often, but he hasn't been doing that, and Dean's getting worried. When a month has passed without any word, Dean calls him. It goes to voicemail. "Cas, man, are you OK? I mean, come on, we haven't heard from you in ages. It's not like you." Dean stops, takes a deep breath. "Look...call or text or something to let us know you're not in trouble." Cas does call, when Sam's out, but only to ask where they are. As soon as Dean tells him, he appears in their motel room. "You OK?" Dean asks, before Cas can get a word out. "I'm fine, Dean." And he doesn't look like there's anything wrong with him. Same battered trenchcoat, same suit, but he's not meeting Dean's eyes, which from the Stare-Master is just bizarre. "Why didn't you call?" Dean asks, wincing at the fact that he sounds like a girl whose prom date didn't show. "I'm sorry." Dean takes a step toward him, and Cas flinches. He freezes. "I'm sorry," Cas repeats, and his voice sounds hollow. Broken somehow. "It's fine. You just had me worried, that's all." "No," Cas says, meeting his eyes for the first time. "I'm sorry for what I did." Dean's brow furrows. "What you did? Cas, what are you talking about?" "You know my powers are diminishing." "Yeah," Dean says slowly. He's not sure where this is going, but he's willing to be patient. "I'm less able to heal this body as time goes on. Recently, it began to require rest. Sleep." Dean feels a chill of foreboding. Cas is staring at the floor again. "Apparently I've become human enough to dream." Fuck. "That was you?!" Dean bursts out, and Cas takes a step back. "I didn't realize. Dean, you know I would never have done it if I realized you were involved as well." His voice is pleading. Dean nods. Cas might have invaded his dreams once or twice, but he'd never... "So...so you needed to sleep, and you were dreaming," he says, then swallows. "And somehow you ended up in my head." Cas nods miserably. "I was drawn there. There can be no apologizing for this. Nonetheless, I am sorry." "So we ended up having sex, and when you realized..." At least now he knows why the dreams stopped. "Yes." "Why'd you do it?" He needs to know that, more than anything else. "I don't know." "Cas," Dean says, stepping closer to him. "Why'd you do it?" "It's yet another sign of my waning Grace," Cas says quietly. "What is?" "I have committed a mortal sin, and broken one of the Commandments." "Say what?" "I have lusted. And I have coveted." The bottom drops out of Dean's stomach. "Coveted me?" Cas nods, his eyes downcast. And that's it. He steps right into Cas' personal space, tilts his chin up and kisses him. Cas stiffens, then melts against him, kissing him like he thought he'd never be allowed. When they break apart, Cas' eyes are wide. "Dean?" Dean takes a deep breath. "When the dreams stopped," he confesses, "I missed them." Cas stares at him for a long moment, then folds into his arms, burrowing his face in Dean's neck, his shoulders shaking. "Hey, hey." Dean pulls him up. "Cas, you're not crying, are you?" Cas' eyes are wet, and there are tear tracks on his cheeks. "Dean..." This is about one Kleenex away from becoming maudlin, so Dean smirks at him. "You wanna try it for real this time?" Cas shudders. "Yes."
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