[ there's brutality in the way dean fucks. it's almost more punishment than anything, the idea of it being something else slowly drifting from his mind again as he sinks in, feels the heat embrace him. the idea that cas might need preparation, that he's being too rough again, is gone in the instant he slides in, has him stuttering a breath as those nails dig into his back. he doesn't know how to hold back in that moment, choosing to let go, to take what's being so freely given to him, and in a manner he knows.
so he fucks him.
he fucks him hard, rolls his hips only to shove the right back against cas, snaps in and out hard. the tightness, the grip of cas' body around him is too good though, searing heat and nothing like what dean's felt before. it chases away coherency so easily, leaves behind only raw desire as sweat rolls over his skin, down his back, as his breath comes in sharp, hard grunts and gasps.
fingers cradles up to cas' neck, feels his rabbit pulse underneath the pads. dean doesn't linger there for long though, let's them slide up the side of cas' face, pushes back sweat-slick hair. green meets blue for a brief instant, his eyes shining with fire and hunger, the same brutality as all of his thrusts. yet there's also that affection which has grown in their time together, battling with the rest of him.
he doesn't know how to be sweet, to be gentle. but this is them, isn't it? all rough edges and sharp angles. teeth and tugging as he bites cas' mouth, bruises him on those swollen lips just as he does where their bodies meet. it's like the desire, the need, forces him to make sure cas knows he's there, that this is all real-- that he feel every inch of dean as he buries himself into cas with one roll of his hips after another.
or maybe it's to ground dean himself; they're real, they're alive, they're doing this. ]
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so he fucks him.
he fucks him hard, rolls his hips only to shove the right back against cas, snaps in and out hard. the tightness, the grip of cas' body around him is too good though, searing heat and nothing like what dean's felt before. it chases away coherency so easily, leaves behind only raw desire as sweat rolls over his skin, down his back, as his breath comes in sharp, hard grunts and gasps.
fingers cradles up to cas' neck, feels his rabbit pulse underneath the pads. dean doesn't linger there for long though, let's them slide up the side of cas' face, pushes back sweat-slick hair. green meets blue for a brief instant, his eyes shining with fire and hunger, the same brutality as all of his thrusts. yet there's also that affection which has grown in their time together, battling with the rest of him.
he doesn't know how to be sweet, to be gentle. but this is them, isn't it? all rough edges and sharp angles. teeth and tugging as he bites cas' mouth, bruises him on those swollen lips just as he does where their bodies meet. it's like the desire, the need, forces him to make sure cas knows he's there, that this is all real-- that he feel every inch of dean as he buries himself into cas with one roll of his hips after another.
or maybe it's to ground dean himself; they're real, they're alive, they're doing this. ]
Louder. I wanna hear you.
[ come on, cas, he knows you can do better. ]