RockStarPeach

This was written for bballgirl3022, who left it wide open and only asked for Dean/Cas.

(Also, for the love of my life ash_carpenter, some bottom!Dean, even though she won't read Dean/Cas. And for thecouchcarrot, pretty much the opposite of what she wanted :) Nah, kidding. I promise I'll actually write what you guys want. At some point.)

Title: What You Need
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Rating: Adult
Summary: Sometimes you need a break, a time-out from the world. A way to unwind and forget about your troubles and feel like everything is okay again. For Dean and Cas, that break is each other and Dean’s more than willing to give Cas what he needs, even when Dean’s not really in the mood. Set during S6.
Word count: 1700

***

Dean feels the solid pressure of a body against his back, hot breath in his ear and he jolts awake, careful to remain completely still. His fist wraps tight around the handle of the knife under his pillow while he fights to keep his breathing even, his body easy and pliant.

A leg presses up against the back of his right thigh, a knee rests behind Dean’s bent one and his jaw ticks as he opens one eye just a faction, hopefully not enough that whoever’s managed to sneak into their room will see, but he’s gotta know if Sam’s okay.

Sam appears to be fine, still sleeping soundly in the next bed and when Dean’s fingers grip the hilt of the knife harder, when he takes a low breath and shifts his weight just slightly to get enough leverage to roll and toss the fucker off him, he finds himself pressed even harder into the mattress, a hand sliding down his arm to curl around his wrist.

It squeezes, it hurts but Dean doesn’t cry out and he sure as fuck doesn’t drop the knife. But not because he’s afraid, not because he’s even nervous, anymore.

It’s not often people get the jump on him and Sam, not since Walt and Roy and not for a damn long time before them. It’s even less often that their assailants climb into bed with them, touch them like this, breath out soft and tickling against the backs of their necks.

No, Dean knows who this is and he knows he’s not in trouble. Still, he doesn’t like being woken up like this and the motherfucker has it coming if Dean stabs him in the ribs. For all the damn good it would do.

“Shhh,” Castiel whispers, nose rubbing along the vulnerable skin behind Dean’s ear. Dean lets out a long stream of air from between his lips, forces the muscles in his back and shoulders to go lax and waits for Castiel to let up his weight, waits for the contented hum and the soft kiss placed on the side of Dean’s jaw.

Then Dean bucks up, quick and sharp and snaps his head back, cracks his skull against Castiel’s nose. The bone doesn’t shatter, of course it doesn’t. It’s hardly satisfying at all but for the soft grunt Castiel lets escape and Dean twists then, brings his right elbow up and bashes it against the side of Castiel’s face.

He flips them over (only because Castiel lets him, Dean’s smart enough to recognise that) and levers his body down over Castiel’s, the angel’s back to the bed and Dean’s knife pressed flush against his throat.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that,” Dean hisses. “It could be dangerous.”

“It could be,” Castiel agrees, but his mouth is pulling up at the corners, the start of a smile he can’t quite hide. “If I was anyone else, I’d be dead right now.”

“I get my hands on an angel blade and next time even you might be,” Dean says, knife pressing into Castiel’s neck enough to break the skin in a thin, clean line, blood welling up around the sharp edge of the blade. Castiel’s not-quite smile stretches up to his eyes now and Dean gives up, snickers and drops his eyes to the slight pool of blood below Castiel’s jugular.

He pulls the knife back completely then, tosses it to the floor next to his bed and leans down, presses a closed-mouth kiss to the underside of Castiel’s jaw.

“Seriously, Cas,” he says when Cas shudders beneath him. “Would it kill you to just fucking knock?”

“I didn’t want to wake Sam,” Castiel says and fuck, that’s right. Dean’s head turns abruptly back to where Sam is still breathing heavily, snoring occasionally, flat on his back with his head thrown back and his mouth open. Dean frowns at that, because Dean and Cas haven’t been loud, exactly, but they’ve made enough noise that Sam should be wide awake by now.

“Cas?” Dean asks, turning back to him and shifting so he’s no longer lying on top of him.

Castiel doesn’t bother to look over at Sam, just turns his not-smile into a not-smirk and before Dean even knows what’s hit him, he’s flat on his stomach again, Castiel holding him down. Dean doesn’t bother trying to struggle. It wouldn’t do any good. When Castiel gets playful like this, the only thing that will stop him is if Dean actually asks him to stop.

He never does.

“He’ll sleep the rest of the night,” Cas assures, bites Dean’s earlobe and Dean’s eyes flutter shut. He’s tired, wants to go the fuck to sleep already but he can’t deny that having Cas close makes him feel good. “Not that we’ll need that long.”

“Dude, I am not fucking you with Sam in the room,” Dean says, but he only puts up a cursory fight when Castiel takes hold of his boxers and quickly strips him of them, leaving him naked.

“Shh,” Cas says again and then Dean’s legs are kicked apart, Cas fitting between them and there’s a pause and a rustle and then warm, slippery fingers sliding along the crack of his ass. “Don’t think about him.”

Dean screws his eyes shut as hard as he can when one of Cas’ fingers breeches the tight ring of muscle at his entrance and he grinds his teeth together in an effort not to cry out.

The thing is, he doesn’t want this right now. He really doesn’t. And knowing that Sam is three feet over is not helping his libido.

But, Cas seems to need it and that’s always been enough for Dean. Cas has never once complained when Dean has needed comfort, release or support. He’s allowed Dean, welcomed Dean, to use him any way Dean needs.

Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should force Dean to deal with things in a healthier way than secret, casual sex with a willing, obedient partner, but he doesn’t. And Dean won’t, either. It might be messed up, but if Cas needs a good fuck to work out his issues with his family, well. He’s done enough for Dean over the years that Dean can give him this, will give him this, every time.

“Are you ready?” Dean hears from somewhere behind him and all of a sudden he realises two things. One is that Castiel is now naked as well, skin of his front pressed down Dean’s back, from his shoulders to his ankles. Two is that Castiel now has three fingers working inside him, in and out on slick, easy slides and either Dean zoned out for a while or Cas cheated again and used some of his angel mojo.

It’s probably the second.

“Cheater,” Dean accuses, going with his instinct.

Castiel laughs softly against Dean’s ear, works his free arm underneath him and wraps it around his chest. He cranes his neck and kisses Dean’s mouth, short but sloppy, all tongue and he doesn’t deny it.

“Are you ready?” he asks again.

Dean snorts and shakes his head, but bends his knees just a little and tilts his hips up.

“Yeah, go ahead,” he says and before the words are even out Castiel’s fingers are gone and replaced by his even more substantial cock. Dean sucks in a sharp breath but lets it out slowly and he settles quickly into the pleasant rhythm of Cas’ push push push against him.

It’s not bad. Hell, Dean knows what this feels like when he’s turned on and it’s fucking incredible, but right now he’s tired and he’s sore from the hunt and he wills Cas to hurry the fuck up and finish. Has he mentioned he just wants to sleep?

“Dean?” Cas asks after a few minutes, after the hand around Dean’s chest has worked, lower, lower down his groin. Cas’ fingers pass over his flaccid cock and then shift to Dean’s hip and pause, even as his thrusts continue.

“Just… Keep going. Hurry up.”

Castiel pauses at that, only a brief pause and Dean can almost see his brow furrow behind him. But then Cas does as he’s told, speeds up even faster than before and it’s only seconds before he’s bucking and jerking and letting out a low, strained cry.

“You good?” Dean asks after he’s stilled and quieted, shifts a little to move Cas’ weight so that he’s settled next to him and Dean can breathe again. “You need to go again?” Sometimes he does. Angel constitution is fucking epic.

“No, Dean,” Cas says, rolling Dean to his side and curling up behind him, pulling him close. “Thank you.”

He doesn’t ask if Dean’s good. Knows Dean would tell him if he wasn’t and he knows that Dean hates it when Cas draws attention to things Dean would rather not discuss.

Still, his hand strokes up and down Dean’s front, Dean’s stomach muscles jumping and fluttering under his gentle touch and Dean can hear his sigh (disappointment, maybe frustration, Dean can’t be sure) when his knuckles brush against Dean’s dick, small and soft and sleepy.

He opens his mouth then, wants to reassure Cas. Wants to tell him not to take it personally, wants to say that he does want to fuck Cas, most of the time he really does, but he’s so tired damn it and that’s okay. He’ll help Cas out, without even thinking about it, he’ll help Cas out whenever he needs but sometimes Dean’s just not in the mood.

There’s nothing wrong with that.

He doesn’t say it though. Doesn’t have to.

Cas pulls the blankets up over them both, presses his hand to Dean’s chest right over his heart and sets his breathing even with Dean’s. He hums in Dean’s ear, not any tune, not really, just comforting sounds, meant to lull Dean and it works. His eyes close quickly, he can’t fight the pull, doesn’t want to.

By the time Cas’ hand moves up, two fingers pressed to Dean’s temple as he mutters “sleep” from somewhere far off, Dean’s halfway there.

As he falls under completely, he knows they’re okay.

END