tumbataure | 171st page

Entry tags:

mossy forest

171st page

After the hole is sealed and Ninurta's done away with, your entire party is bippity bopped to the other side of the forest. If there were stragglers that got separated, you're all in one place again. If you lost gear, weapons, phones, whatever, it's back on your person, functional again. If you lost any organs you're on your own though. No but basically you've been bewitched to safety out of the forest and the evil noises have stopped, you're homefree, homies. There's a crow perched on a rundown fence post along the road watching you with beady little eyes before it takes off back into the forest.

The map takes you to a rundown little bed and breakfast not but a fifteen minute walk out that looks like it was abandoned a while ago. No foul play, just closed for business, the economy is rough when you're located next to a haunted forest. Feel free to avail yourself of its beds, there's no room service but least you don't have to pay.

[Mission: get your bearings, make sure all your shits there, do a headcount, follow the road. call dibs on a room. rest up]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[illusions are for suckas. still, makes a little oop face when cas looks exasperated for a second. it actually didn't even occur to him that he'd wanted him to stay put or he might have put more of a token effort into complying. you know. just to keep him happy.]

[either way, he gets himself up to both elbows now, eyes tracking over every move he makes with a kind of drugged interest, muscles in his abdomen jumping at cold air on hot skin. it's different from before, more deliberate and less blind groping that makes him feel more exposed than just for the fact that he's more or less birthday suiting]

[ honestly, he didn't expect dean to stay put, but it worked long enough to get him on his back and mostly naked, so there's no complaints.

he leaves dean's shorts over his thighs, not even bothering to push them as far as the knee. with the finish line in sight, he makes his way past dean's navel in a trail of hasty, sloppy open mouthed kisses. after a moment of nuzzling his nose and one bristly cheek across the bit of bodyfat that's accumulated at his belly, he tucks his chin and looks down. ]

[ dean had only allowed him a brief touch earlier in their hurry, but now he's going to take his time. it takes some shifting, during which cas shrugs out of his shirt because it is in his way and irritating, but he winds up lying on his side, pressed to the outer curve of dean's thigh, an arm wrapped behind the small of his back. the other arm drapes across dean's lap, takes him in hand as though he has every right in the world to do so, almost as casual as touching oneself. ]

[tilts his head in fascination like he's watching it happen to someone else, waits for him to arrange himself with a quiet smile to himself before he lifts a hand to play over his bare shoulder and up his neck to card through the hair at his nape. he sucks his lower lip behind his teeth and closes his eyes for a breath at first touch and he's trying to be patient, he really is, but it was never one of his virtues]

--Cas. You're killin me here.

[he crooks a knee and lifts his hips against his hand, tries to keep his voice even but can't keep the edge of impatience out]

[ could make a remark along the lines of he waited almost five years, he can survive another five minutes, but honestly, cas doesn't want to wait either. taking his time doesn't mean denying himself, after all.

physiologically, dean hasn't completely recovered yet, and the flesh in hand is half-hard. what that means to cas is that it's easier to fit a greater percentage into his mouth, which he does without further preamble. ]

[pulls hand away from cas to press his loosely balled hand to his mouth, curtailing the ridiculous gurgle that did its damnedest to escape. the hand bearing his weight yanks at the sheet, struggling to sit up further and kind of curling over him in the process. ask and you shall receive apparently, but he wasn't prepared for the angelic deepthroat]

Cas, jesus christ, pace yourself dude. It ain't goin nowhere.

[his hand settles at the back of his head again after the immediate threat of choking on his tongue has passed, thumb passing over the shell of his ear. take it easy, take it slowbro]

[ it's sort of hard not to laugh at dean's reaction, but laughing would be too easy to misinterpret. he's barely gotten started; he stuffed his mouth full but hasn't given a thought to trying the throat acrobatics he's seen used in pornographic film. when dean's hand pets at his hair, he tilts his face up somewhat to look at him, one cheek a ridiculous puff where its stretched around the bell end. ]

[ he mumbles like that at first, then decides it's probably impolite and pulls away to speak, corner of his mouth wet with saliva. ]

If you'd like to coach my technique, by all means. In graphic detail, so I won't misunderstand?

Don't be a dick.

[he just got off maybe 15 minutes ago and there's an actually actual dude angel sucking on his cock he's allowed to be a little weird about it. shifts in the sad absence of mouth and kind of talks to that corner of his mouth more than him]

It's not the last lean pocket, you don't gotta go for the gold first thing. Finesse it- [the longer he stares at him the more it occurs to him that he did just interrupt a blowjob. this is the opposite of what he wanted. he stops midbreath and holds it before pulling his hand up and away in a white flag gesture before holding it out back towards the activity at hand. help yourself.] -just do what you were doing, man.

[ frowns when the hand moves away, reaching up to catch his wrist and bring it back to his temple. ]

Perhaps I was too flippant. I said that with true intent, Dean. Tell me what you like. [ he runs his palm up dean's forearm, stroking up to the elbow and back to the hand in his hair. ] "Finesse it"? Should I tease you? [ bends his head again to blow warm air over the flesh he's already made wet. ] Should I kiss you, here, as I do your mouth? [ follows through with his threat, broad lips wrapping in a puckered kiss around the side of the shaft. ]

[takes another sharp breath, letting it out slow as he sinks back into place after his delicate sensibilities are soothed, obligingly playing fingers over displaced bangs to sweep them away from his forehead as he drops his cheek to shoulder to watch him go at it take two]

Yeah Cas, that's good. S'great.

[little more than a pleased rumble]

[ delicate is a word for it, yeah.

cups him at the base, fingers scratching through coarse hair that's a hint more red than he expected. for all that dean's a fighter in the field, he seems to be most responsive to gentle touches behind closed doors. it's interesting for cas to learn that he seems to be the more aggressive of the two of them, despite the disparity in experience.
that aggression is leeching out of him, though, turning him tender again, because that's the way to earn more of dean's pleasured sounds. ]

What else, Dean. What else is good? [ gives him a squeeze, repeating the kiss on as much of the length of him as he can. ]

[he can't recall ever being in a position to explain what he wants out of a blowie from a chick before, generally just goes with whatever they're giving, so the idea of having to verbalize it gives him pause. i mean, he could roll out a list of what not to do that's a mile long but what to do? also it's hard to concentrate when he's still mouthing and squeezing him, squirming quietly under the gentler touches while he thinks about it]

Just keep it simple. No Cosmo. I wouldn't wish indian burns and yankin on short n curlies on any dude. Slow first. You're not gettin graded for speed. [or creativity. he is but a simple man of simple pleasures. start at the top and work your way down riker. leans up again, dropping his hand down his arm to take cas' free hand up and guide it underneath his other, situating his palm over balls with a muted press of his lips. hold them cuddle them make them feel loved they need hugs too]

[ nods along with the comments, nose brushing the thick vein at the underside. ]

Simple. Slow. No "Cosmo." Understood.

[ the direction of attention to his balls is heeded and followed up with a kiss placed on the thin skin before cas covers it again with his palm. he lifts himself up to an elbow for better range of motion; he inhales, sticks out his tongue broad and flat, then curls it cushion-like around the fully swollen head before sealing his lips around the lot. ]

[groans low and falls back into his rightful place in his throne of pillows now that sex ed has concluded. he keeps a hand at cas' back, splayed across spine, cocked knee only elevated as much as the elastic of his shorts will allow. his other hand finds his mussed hair and threads through loose, tucking his chin against his chest to keep an eye on the festivities, mumbling words of encouragement]

[ at first he keeps his eyes trained on dean's face, watching with a critical eye to be sure the change of approach is being well-received. the flush under dean's freckles is a good sign, as is the fact that he's relaxed into the mattress, most of his body just so much deadweight. observing and analyzing is getting more difficult though, because there's plent of stimulus to be had at cas' end of things. the warm press of palms against his scalp and his skin, the scratch of hair tickling his nose or the sheen of sweat on dean's inner thighs making his cheeks damp. he sighs around his mouthful and closes his eyes, letting himself sink more fully into the vessel and get lost in his physical senses. kisses turn to sucking pulls, idle hands to strokes and squeezes, his elbow keeping him propped up and cradled across dean's lap as he works. ]

[his hand pets down the curve of cas' skull till it rests at the back of his neck, other hand dropping away to find the headboard behind him, fingers digging into creaky wood. somewhere along the transition from teasing to werk he's stopped making sense with his praise and it's turned into a long stream of breathy incomprehension to the tune of a lot of yes, yeah, god, fuck, cas, etc, his hips rising to meet him with slow deliberation, starting in his abdomen and rolling up while he struggles to keep his eyes open, half-lidded, because the visual of cas sinking down on him and bobbing back up is almost enough to undo him on its own]

[ maybe he's not normal, maybe it should be embarrassing, being absorbed in performing such an ungraceful act to the point he doesn't care if his chin is wet or he's making too much noise. cas isn't embarrassed. he's not proud either. he's enjoying himself, taking pleasure in creating pleasure, in the way dean's helpless to fight the instinct to roll his spine, to push into a warm willing space. the nonsense coming out of his mouth doesn't count as a prayer, but it feels almost as good. dean's heartbeat is pounding on his tongue until he can feel it drumming inside his own head, hot steady rising rhythm.

they haven't done much, not yet, but as he smooths his thumb back and forth against the skin going tight around fragile glands, he decides to himself that this is going to be his favorite sort of sex. ]

[eventually the words stop being words, devolves into panting, ragged gasps and gives up the struggle of not looking away, rocking up against him with less regard for taking it slow and steady as he tangles fingers in his hair and pushes him down, other hand slipping away from the headboard to curl halfheartedly at the sheets by his head.

he rolls his cheek against the sheet, shoulders gradually gathering bedspread and pillows up into a little pile behind him as he digs a heel in to shove up against him, mouth falling permanently open. he tries to give him a heads up, doesn't get the feeling he particularly cares either way, squeezes his fingers in his hair urgently and drops an insistent cas--]

[ there're these little nuances, like the tension gathering in dean's abdomen and thighs, muscle groups contracting and holding until they start to shake. being pressed down startles him at first, but through his fuzzy, sensory-oriented thought process he accepts that dean is only asking for what he needs. it's no effort to relax into it, adjust his pace to short and quick to match the cadence of dean's hips.

all of dean's gasping makes him feel equally breathless, lightheaded. when he feels the fingers tightening in his hair he does pull away, lets out a gasp of his own, and curls his hand under to press the knuckles of his first two fingers against the tender skin tucked between dean's thighs. ]

[disentangles his hand from his hair to jerk himself through it, other hand scrubbing over stubble and mouth to cage in the groans until they die out and he stops working his hips against cas' hand, stilling all over as he sinks back down with deep, relieved breaths.]

How much porn do you watch?

[tips cheek against shoulder to look down at him after a few seconds of post-jizz jellyfication. his legs are still tangled up in shorts and pants otherwise his knee would have hit the bed with the rest of him]

[ his laugh is smothered against the inside of dean's thigh, the skin he's currently kissing. ]

That's anatomy, Dean, not pornography. [ shifts up from elbow to palm, free hand stroking down his bare hip. ]

Don't move.

[ leans in, scratching a kiss across his stomach before rolling off the bed to shake out the towel and dip a corner into the basin of water from the washstand. when he gets back to the bed, he rubs away dean's sweat and lingering fluids with the wet corner and uses the other half to pat him dry. then he tosses the towel on the floor, reaches for the waistband of dean's shorts to drag them back up. ]

[lifts a hand to lazily swat at his shoulder while he preens him, muttering a little scandalized dude. ends up just lifting his hips compliantly when he gets to the redressing since his ineffective annoyance is halfhearted at best anyway]

M'I s'posed to just leave you hangin?

[like, is there gay etiquette to this he isn't aware of. as though cas would know any better than him. still, he doesn't seem too perturbed at the fact that dean's functionally useless and isn't getting around to returning the favor anytime soon]

[ no one would want to yank their drawers up over sexmess. it was a necessity. ]

[ has shimmied his jeans back up his hips, but doesn't bother trying to button and zip them. that doesn't need to happen until they leave this room, not as far as cas is concerned. ]

You're exhausted, and "it ain't going nowhere."

[ if all of the running through haunted as shit dangerforest, hallucinatory death, and relieved double round of sex isn't enough to put dean out for a full eight hours' sleep, there'll be time for one for the road. ]

[screws face up at him unimpressed when he busts out the dean quotes, rolls over onto his side to grab him and pull him down to drag another kiss out of him before laying back and licking his tongue over his teeth in a cringe like 'nog with too much booze'-face because he actually just forgot he had his mouth on his dick not a minute ago. oh well.]

You goin anywhere? [as he rolls over onto his stomach to grab a pillow, mumbling half-asleep]

I did promise to leave once you fell asleep. [ but that was before. before very big changes. ]

[ sits on the edge of the bed, stretching to lean over his back and drop a kiss behind his ear. ]

But I don't have any other appointments.

[looks up at him with his face smushed into pillow and thinks for a moment he should probably say something, you know. something to let him know he's not just in it for the blowjobs and whatever, but he's too tired for a heart to heart and doesn't really think he'd be up for it even if he wasn't. so he settles]

Sorry 'bout bein an ass.

[and probably still will be but. it's the thought that counts. his voice is sleep-thick and he makes to move his hand towards him but flops halfway there on the bedspread, fingers catching tiredly on the seam down the leg of his pants]

(no subject)

inenochian - 2013-05-25 05:41 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

sawedoff - 2013-05-25 05:46 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only