Rating: NC-17 (to be super safe)
Word count: 381.
Spoilers: None really, although it helps if you know who Castiel is.
Warnings: None for this part.
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural.
Beta: mithrel . Thank you!
Notes: Human AU. Part of the Dog Walker 'verse. Link to masterpost.
Summary: It's a wedding. There's a dark room. And Dean and Castiel.
Read below or on AO3.
“I don't,” Castiel rasped between kisses, his voice lowered to an impossible range from alcohol and desire. “I don't... normally do this.”
“Ditto,” Dean said in the brief moment he managed to pull away from Castiel's mouth. He just couldn't seem to stop kissing. Not even for a second.
“No, I mean-” Castiel tried again, but his words came out muffled, caught as they were against Dean's lips. With massive effort he pulled away. “I mean I don't usually do... casual.”
Undeterred by the forced breaking of their kiss, Dean latched onto Castiel's neck instead, and the groan Dean's sucking and nipping provoked could probably get them arrested in certain countries.
“Nothin' casual about this,” Dean said through his teeth, clamped loosely around the tendon in Castiel's neck, stretched taut as his head fell to the side. Castiel's reactions would indicate that he agreed, but after awhile of more frantic making out he yet again tried to make his point.
“What I'm... what I'm trying to explain is,” he panted while Dean's attentions were moving down Castiel's chest, impatient hands popping buttons along the way. “I... generally don't take this... step... until much further along... in... oh, Dean, oh!” Another few minutes went by with harsh breathing and the rustle of clothes being shed the only sounds in the dark bedroom, doubling as coat room for the evening. “This is... out of character for me,” Castiel concluded finally, as Dean roughly yanked dawn Castiel's dress pants and stood back up to start shedding his own layers.
“Whatever, dude. This isn't exactly business as usual for me either. See, I'm not actually gay,” he grumbled, focusing on his shaking hands to at least try not to tear the buttons off his rented suit.
There was a short, baffled silence from Castiel before he said deadpan: “Your actions would suggest otherwise.”
“Yeah, well, like you said,” Dean huffed, finally getting his last buttons undone and shrugging off his shirt. “Out of character, right?”
“Right,” Castiel agreed, and then seemed to entirely forget what he was saying, choosing instead to throw himself at Dean so they crashed to the floor. But the bed was hidden under piles of coats anyway, so the floor suited their purpose nicely. And the carpet was really deliciously soft.