My dance classes were supposed to be cancelled today since the busses weren’t running, but my teacher just texted me and she wants to do EXTRA classes today. My hips and my ankles hurt so bad today you have no idea
The bed creaks loudly, Dean rocking into Cas’ ass slow, grinning down at the angel when his face reddens and his mouth falls open, letting out silent prayers. Cas’ hands scramble around, desperate for something to bury into, finding Dean’s hair and the sheets beside his head. He lifts his hips and…
“When you’ve decided to quit being the fucking secret keeper, let me know,” Dean says right before he pulls Cas toward him with renewed urgency, pressing bruising kisses on his mouth and cheeks and neck. Castiel groans, his hands wanting to push and pull, accept and deny.
“Dean, I can’t-”
“I don’t care. I don’t care. Just shut up and let me do this. Let me have this. Let me help you, for once.”
“There isn’t-” But Dean silences him with another kiss, tongue flicking over teeth and cheek. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s pulled Cas toward him in a drunken haze, trying to feel something, trying to make things right. Like stealing sex and hand jobs from an angel could fix any of that. And Cas, for all his obedience, has always let it happen. He’s learned and he’s learned fast, too.
Dean figures it’s about time he tries to do something right by Cas. For once.
“You’re not alone and you keep thinking you are. But I can help. I can-”
“This isn’t helping, Dean. It’s-”
“Jesus would you just let me do this? Just shut up, for once. Shut up.” You don’t know what you do to me, he thinks, and the way Cas pulls back, eyes bright with wonder and a little bit of melancholy, he knows that his thoughts might as well have fallen from his own mouth.