Oh my gods, Nonny. Dean and Castiel dancing together is my catnip. Especially if it’s slow dancing in the privacy of their own home. Barefoot. Wearing ratty jeans and soft t-shirts. Hooking their fingers in each other’s belt loops.
Dean raises a finger as he shimmies slowly from side to side to whatever tune is in his head. “Almost naked,” he stresses, plucking at his ratty white t-shirt and even rattier sweat pants.
Castiel smiles. “Why are you dancing almost naked?”
Dean reaches out doing a cross step, takes Castiel’s hand and pulls him close. He runs his hand up Castiel’s ratty white t-shirt and spreads his fingers between the angel’s shoulder blades.
Easily, Castiel falls into step, one hand falling to Dean’s hip to be able to follow the music he can’t hear. They sway gently to the rattling of the washing machine.
“I call this my Laundry Day Waltz,” Dean murmurs against Castiel’s temple. They rock side to side.
“Are you unable to be still?”
“Always,” Dean smiles. “I get antsy.”
“You don’t have to stay in here while the whole cycle goes.”
“Ah, but then we wouldn’t be here dancing.”
It’s gentle and Castiel likes it. Quiet. Peaceful. Swaying together under the single light of the laundry room. Where nothing can get them. Nothing can disturb them. Nothing matters besides Dean’s lips on his cheekbone as he hums tunelessly. Somehow Castiel hopes the washing machine never stops.
Okay, but follow up question. Did he get the donuts first? Because Gabriel seems like the type to rub one all over Sam’s dick so he can lick the glaze off during the blowjob 😀
Half dozen eaten before, half dozen during. Glaze EVERYWHERE and Dean somewhere far away yelling, “THAT’S HOW YOU GET ANTS!”
Architect, Domme-but-can-switch, Alpha, tattooed and pierced art student, cat lover (and that’s good cuz we’ll have at least 4), demon, witch, private detective, mysterious author, mechanic, switch.
Title: Prostate Milking Link:Here on Ao3 (public) Square Filled: Prostate Milking Ship: Destiel Rating: E Tags: prostate milking, bathtub sex Summary: Dean and Castiel have bathtub sex. Word Count: 1,332 Written/Created for:@spnkinkbingo and gifted to @ltleflrt
“You’re full of shit,” Dean says matter-of-factly.
“Hardly,” Castiel scoffs. “It’s a fact of nature. Neapolitan ice cream with fudge sauce, strawberry sauce, and whipped cream is the best cold dessert.”
“Says the guy who can only taste molecules,” Dean snarks. “That’s overkill. You’ve already got vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate ice cream. You don’t need the same flavor toppings. It’s just… too much, man.”
Castiel lets the freezer door at the grocery store slide shut, the window fogging over. “Fine. You are an expert in gluttony, after all. What dessert is superior to my recommendation?”
Dean taps the glass like he’s at an aquarium harassing the fish. “Mint chocolate chip, hard shell fudge and a cherry on top, if you’re feeling frisky.”
Castiel wrinkles his nose. “How is that better? Mint and chocolate? That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Dean shrugs, leaning his shoulder against the glass cooler door. “Bigger isn’t better in this situation.”
“Why not?” Castiel challenges. “If you’re already eating something unhealthy, why not go ‘whole hog,’ as they say? Humans enjoy that.”
Dean snorts. “Dude. There’s junking out, and then there’s finesse. You gotta trust me here.”
Castiel shrugs and allows Dean to grab the ice cream and hard shell. They turn to make their way to the cashier, and Castiel mumbles, “can’t we at least get sprinkles?”
Jupiter Astrid James 