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annundrielWhen I Feel That Something. Dean/Castiel. R. 1237 words. Prompt: handholding. Dean wants to hold Castiel's hand.
When I Feel That Something
Dean’s outside when Castiel finds him, leaning against the Impala. He’s not doing anything, not going anywhere. He isn’t even thinking particularly hard. He just needed some fresh air, some space. Room to breathe beneath the night sky.
He isn’t surprised by Castiel, doesn’t even mind when he joins Dean against the car, a quiet presence at Dean’s right; Cas is just Cas, and Dean likes him by his side even though he won’t admit it out loud.
Castiel doesn’t say anything, just stands too close like he always does, their shoulders touching. Dean can feel the heat coming off of him through the layers of their clothes, feels it even more clearly where their hands almost brush between their bodies. It’s a weirdly tantalizing heat, and it makes Dean aware of his hand in a way he usually isn’t, makes the back of it itch, his fingers twitch. Makes him want to reach out and touch.
So he does.
Dean shifts, moves so that the wide backs of their hands brush, skin to skin. Something electric zings through him, and he feels Castiel tense beside him. Huh, Dean thinks.
Straightening his index finger, Dean finds Castiel’s, presses against it. Castiel inhales sharply, a sound Dean only hears because everything else has gone quiet, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It narrows even further, down to the slow drag of skin on skin, when Dean slips the tips of his fingers between Castiel’s.
“Dean,” Castiel breathes, shuddering beside him. “What are you—?”
“Shhh. I’m just…” Dean trails off as his fingers slide higher, doesn’t know what he’s doing, how or what to answer. He just knows that he wants this, suddenly and completely, wants to feel Castiel’s hand in his, Castiel’s fingers between his own, Castiel’s palm against his palm. He slides his fingers back down, hooking them slightly, pressing their pads against Castiel’s.
They twitch against Dean’s, press back, three points of hot pressure.
Dean pulls away, thinks he hears a soft sound like disappointment cross the space between them that’s replaced by a sigh, shaking, when Dean moves his arm, turning his hand until it fits over Castiel’s, around it. He doesn’t breathe for a moment, knows Castiel doesn’t either because he can’t hear him. Knows they’re both waiting for something, but can’t quite pinpoint what.
The world feels like it’s holding its breath with them.
Curling his fingers upward, Dean threads them through Castiel’s, feels the back of Castiel’s hand hard against his palm. Castiel exhales sharply, the whole world breathing with him, Dean’s entire existence expanding as Castiel curls his fingers over Dean’s, tucking them close in the hidden cradle of his hand.
Dean’s heart races in his chest, blood pulsing through his veins like it’s time for fight or flight. He feels breathless and shaken and all they’re doing is holding hands and Dean doesn’t know if he’s terrified or exhilarated, knows only that he doesn’t want to let go, that he can’t let go. That Castiel’s fingers tangled with his feel better than any of the other things he’s ever done that involved getting sweaty and at least partially naked with someone else.
If this is how it feels…If this is how he feels just doing this…
He’s not sure he can handle more.
He’d like to try.
Brushing his thumb against the side of Castiel’s hand, Dean wiggles his fingers, pulls them free.
“Dean,” Castiel begins. He sounds as shaky as Dean feels, but Dean ignores him, stepping away, turning on Castiel before he has time to move, to think that Dean is leaving him.
Slowly, deliberately, Dean leans in until there’s nothing but a breath between them, no room for anything more substantial than air, until he can see himself reflected back in Castiel’s eyes. He pauses there, just for a moment, and then he closes the distance and kisses Castiel, kisses him there in the dark against the Impala. Kisses him and reaches for him, tangles their fingers together again, palm to palm this time, pressing them tight.
Castiel’s mouth slides open beneath Dean’s like it was meant to be there, like it was made for this, to give and take and push and pull and bring everything Dean thought he knew crashing down around his head.
Someone moans and Dean thinks it might be him. He can’t be sure, though, the sound reverberated between them until it doesn't matter where it originated from because both of them are doing it.
Lips pressed against his, tongue slipping past, Castiel kisses him back. He follows Dean’s lead, holding tight to Dean’s hand like a lifeline, tethering them together. Castiel presses forward, and Dean presses back, and they’re both hard, both ready for this. Ready for anything, for everything; Dean’s sure of that.
He presses a thigh between Castiel’s, pins him there against the car, kisses him and moves against him, and Castiel shudders, shakes, grips Dean’s hand tight, fingers hard against his skin, and falls apart, mouth sliding away to gasp Dean’s name into the dark.
Dean pulls away, pulls back, waits. Watches. Castiel’s eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open, and he’s breathing heavily, gusts of air against Dean’s mouth, trying to catch his breath. It’s a sight to behold.
And then Castiel’s eyes blink open, dark and unfathomable, and he’s looking back at Dean, knowing him. Castiel’s free hand comes up to Dean’s cheek, fingers sliding over stubble. It isn’t tentative so much as it is careful, Castiel learning something human, something intimate. Learning Dean.
Something in Dean breaks open at that, cracks wide. It feels like relief, like fear, like joy and discovery and belonging. It’s new and it’s familiar, and Dean doesn’t know what to do with it, with all of it. Doesn’t know if he should run or face it head on.
But Castiel’s hand is firm against his, his grip tight and sure, and his gaze is steady, and Dean knows, suddenly and without a doubt, that there was really never any choice here.
He leans back in and kisses Castiel, gives him everything, keeps nothing back, no space left between them. Castiel’s hand slips from Dean’s cheek past his ear, fingers sliding against his hair. The breadth of his hand, the heat of it, feels good, and Dean welcomes it, presses into it, into Castiel, and comes, hot and hard and sudden, what little breath he had now gone.
They hold each other up, and Dean's grateful for Castiel at his front, for the Impala at Castiel’s back.
Face tucked against the curve of Castiel’s neck, Dean tries to center himself, breathes deeply. He can smell skin and sweat, fabric softener. Something beneath that he recognizes but can’t identify, that must be Castiel.
He wants to know. He wants to take Castiel inside and undress him, lay him out and touch him, taste him, follow the lines of his body with his tongue, follow them with his hands. Wants them as naked and sweaty and tangled together as their hands are.
From the way Castiel breathes against him, the way he leans into him, Dean knows he’s not alone.
“Come on,” Dean says, pressing his mouth against the curve of Castiel’s jaw before stepping away. “Come inside.”
Castiel looks at their arms stretched between them, at their hands still joined. Squeezing them together, he smiles, follows where Dean leads.
When I Feel That Something
Dean’s outside when Castiel finds him, leaning against the Impala. He’s not doing anything, not going anywhere. He isn’t even thinking particularly hard. He just needed some fresh air, some space. Room to breathe beneath the night sky.
He isn’t surprised by Castiel, doesn’t even mind when he joins Dean against the car, a quiet presence at Dean’s right; Cas is just Cas, and Dean likes him by his side even though he won’t admit it out loud.
Castiel doesn’t say anything, just stands too close like he always does, their shoulders touching. Dean can feel the heat coming off of him through the layers of their clothes, feels it even more clearly where their hands almost brush between their bodies. It’s a weirdly tantalizing heat, and it makes Dean aware of his hand in a way he usually isn’t, makes the back of it itch, his fingers twitch. Makes him want to reach out and touch.
So he does.
Dean shifts, moves so that the wide backs of their hands brush, skin to skin. Something electric zings through him, and he feels Castiel tense beside him. Huh, Dean thinks.
Straightening his index finger, Dean finds Castiel’s, presses against it. Castiel inhales sharply, a sound Dean only hears because everything else has gone quiet, the world narrowing down to the two of them. It narrows even further, down to the slow drag of skin on skin, when Dean slips the tips of his fingers between Castiel’s.
“Dean,” Castiel breathes, shuddering beside him. “What are you—?”
“Shhh. I’m just…” Dean trails off as his fingers slide higher, doesn’t know what he’s doing, how or what to answer. He just knows that he wants this, suddenly and completely, wants to feel Castiel’s hand in his, Castiel’s fingers between his own, Castiel’s palm against his palm. He slides his fingers back down, hooking them slightly, pressing their pads against Castiel’s.
They twitch against Dean’s, press back, three points of hot pressure.
Dean pulls away, thinks he hears a soft sound like disappointment cross the space between them that’s replaced by a sigh, shaking, when Dean moves his arm, turning his hand until it fits over Castiel’s, around it. He doesn’t breathe for a moment, knows Castiel doesn’t either because he can’t hear him. Knows they’re both waiting for something, but can’t quite pinpoint what.
The world feels like it’s holding its breath with them.
Curling his fingers upward, Dean threads them through Castiel’s, feels the back of Castiel’s hand hard against his palm. Castiel exhales sharply, the whole world breathing with him, Dean’s entire existence expanding as Castiel curls his fingers over Dean’s, tucking them close in the hidden cradle of his hand.
Dean’s heart races in his chest, blood pulsing through his veins like it’s time for fight or flight. He feels breathless and shaken and all they’re doing is holding hands and Dean doesn’t know if he’s terrified or exhilarated, knows only that he doesn’t want to let go, that he can’t let go. That Castiel’s fingers tangled with his feel better than any of the other things he’s ever done that involved getting sweaty and at least partially naked with someone else.
If this is how it feels…If this is how he feels just doing this…
He’s not sure he can handle more.
He’d like to try.
Brushing his thumb against the side of Castiel’s hand, Dean wiggles his fingers, pulls them free.
“Dean,” Castiel begins. He sounds as shaky as Dean feels, but Dean ignores him, stepping away, turning on Castiel before he has time to move, to think that Dean is leaving him.
Slowly, deliberately, Dean leans in until there’s nothing but a breath between them, no room for anything more substantial than air, until he can see himself reflected back in Castiel’s eyes. He pauses there, just for a moment, and then he closes the distance and kisses Castiel, kisses him there in the dark against the Impala. Kisses him and reaches for him, tangles their fingers together again, palm to palm this time, pressing them tight.
Castiel’s mouth slides open beneath Dean’s like it was meant to be there, like it was made for this, to give and take and push and pull and bring everything Dean thought he knew crashing down around his head.
Someone moans and Dean thinks it might be him. He can’t be sure, though, the sound reverberated between them until it doesn't matter where it originated from because both of them are doing it.
Lips pressed against his, tongue slipping past, Castiel kisses him back. He follows Dean’s lead, holding tight to Dean’s hand like a lifeline, tethering them together. Castiel presses forward, and Dean presses back, and they’re both hard, both ready for this. Ready for anything, for everything; Dean’s sure of that.
He presses a thigh between Castiel’s, pins him there against the car, kisses him and moves against him, and Castiel shudders, shakes, grips Dean’s hand tight, fingers hard against his skin, and falls apart, mouth sliding away to gasp Dean’s name into the dark.
Dean pulls away, pulls back, waits. Watches. Castiel’s eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth open, and he’s breathing heavily, gusts of air against Dean’s mouth, trying to catch his breath. It’s a sight to behold.
And then Castiel’s eyes blink open, dark and unfathomable, and he’s looking back at Dean, knowing him. Castiel’s free hand comes up to Dean’s cheek, fingers sliding over stubble. It isn’t tentative so much as it is careful, Castiel learning something human, something intimate. Learning Dean.
Something in Dean breaks open at that, cracks wide. It feels like relief, like fear, like joy and discovery and belonging. It’s new and it’s familiar, and Dean doesn’t know what to do with it, with all of it. Doesn’t know if he should run or face it head on.
But Castiel’s hand is firm against his, his grip tight and sure, and his gaze is steady, and Dean knows, suddenly and without a doubt, that there was really never any choice here.
He leans back in and kisses Castiel, gives him everything, keeps nothing back, no space left between them. Castiel’s hand slips from Dean’s cheek past his ear, fingers sliding against his hair. The breadth of his hand, the heat of it, feels good, and Dean welcomes it, presses into it, into Castiel, and comes, hot and hard and sudden, what little breath he had now gone.
They hold each other up, and Dean's grateful for Castiel at his front, for the Impala at Castiel’s back.
Face tucked against the curve of Castiel’s neck, Dean tries to center himself, breathes deeply. He can smell skin and sweat, fabric softener. Something beneath that he recognizes but can’t identify, that must be Castiel.
He wants to know. He wants to take Castiel inside and undress him, lay him out and touch him, taste him, follow the lines of his body with his tongue, follow them with his hands. Wants them as naked and sweaty and tangled together as their hands are.
From the way Castiel breathes against him, the way he leans into him, Dean knows he’s not alone.
“Come on,” Dean says, pressing his mouth against the curve of Castiel’s jaw before stepping away. “Come inside.”
Castiel looks at their arms stretched between them, at their hands still joined. Squeezing them together, he smiles, follows where Dean leads.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 03:25 am (UTC)SO MEGA HOT!!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 05:58 am (UTC)THANK YOU!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 03:38 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 07:38 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it, thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 03:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 07:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 04:51 am (UTC)It totally fits them.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 07:42 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 03:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-23 07:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 01:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 01:45 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:14 pm (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it, thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 01:47 am (UTC)Hell, I am shaking.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:16 pm (UTC)No, um, I dunno. I am so happy you thought it was, though! Thank you!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 02:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 02:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 02:29 am (UTC)::purrs, curling into your lap:: Imma stay here until you write more Destiel
PORN!!!!fic :)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 04:57 am (UTC)It's the emotional impact that does it. And that? Just makes it gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-28 05:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 05:26 am (UTC)I could almost feel Cas's hand against mine.
And this. Thiiiiiis,
It’s a weirdly tantalizing heat, and it makes Dean aware of his hand in a way he usually isn’t, makes the back of it itch, his fingers twitch. Makes him want to reach out and touch.
That weird, tingly sensation you get when someone's body heat is sort of all up in your space and you can't focus on anything else besides it, yeah, that was totally what this whole thing felt like.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 05:39 pm (UTC)That weird, tingly sensation you get when someone's body heat is sort of all up in your space and you can't focus on anything else besides it, yeah, that was totally what this whole thing felt like.
I'm really glad you felt that translated through the whole. :D
And Cas is in Dean's space all the time; can you imagine what Dean must be feeling?
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 06:15 am (UTC)Absolutely lovely.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 05:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 07:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 05:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 10:47 am (UTC)The last image is completely adorable, I love it!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 10:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 10:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 10:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 01:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 10:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 05:06 pm (UTC)sighs...more, please:)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-29 10:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-07-27 08:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2010-10-15 06:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-20 04:29 am (UTC)