tumbataure | 171st page

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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]

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[ easy is not not okay? ]

[ watching the train of thought on its track through dean's mind, since it's all broadcast in his expression. ]

And what about forward?

[ not that he hasn't been, more and more. really, cas feels a bit like kicking himself for not just spitting it out years ago. maybe even as far back as that night back in maine, if instead of saying, "i'll just sit here quietly" he'd gone for "please remove your clothing now." but he's also certain that it's taken everything to get them here. ]

[ as a demonstration, as if one was needed, the hand that had been massaging dean's side drops to his navel, starts popping open the buttons of his shirt from the bottom up. ]

[shifts his weight back on his elbow more to glance down with a lick of his lip and a noise that gets stuck in his throat, hip pressing against cas' side in a way that should. more than answer his question.]

Nothin bad to say about that either.

[after injecting gay dean screws for 10-12 hours.

his hand at his ribs changes course to take its talents to south beach and he looks back up to him with arched eyebrows in question, like he can go. can you go. because he can go.]

[ what is vast celestial power and divine grace good for if not reduced refractory periods. most definitely can go, and answers his eyebrows with a squint, mock-offended that he's even asking. ]

[ pushes his hips upward, making good on his promise of forwardness, then picks up the pace on the unbuttoning, glad for the dexterity of his vessel's long fingers that makes it simple to do even one-handed. his other hand starts rucking the shirt up his back, then heads for the tensed arm that's holding his weight up. ]

[yeah dean's not so much with the divine porno blessings so he's still working up to it, but you know. getting there.

he doesn't waste any time yanking and tugging cas' belt and pants back open, making time one-handed. his back bows at the touch, leans down against him and catches his mouth in a more impatient kiss than their heretofore exploratory fare. he doesn't go for the shorts right away though, smoothing a palm down the front of his pants to rub at him through them]

[ impatient, but also knows dean's not a miracleworker. plus, the hand is distracting. coupled with the aggressive kissing, it's plenty to keep him busy until all cylinders are firing again, and he's gotten the shirt unbuttoned and shucked down dean's shoulders in the meantime.
it's stuck on his arms, but cas has unimpeded access to everything from neck to navel. he starts low, ring and middlefinger dragging through the twist of hair at dean's waistband and up the rounded planes of his ribs. he has a moment of recalling one of his earliest memories of dean, a diner and a demon and "i'd like to think it's because--" ]

[ finds one of his nipples with a thumb and rolls it sharply. ]

[he leans into every touch like a needy cat, hiking a knee up under himself to transfer his weight so that he can shrug out of the shirt. he pauses with it at his arm to twist his fingers against the bedspread and bites out an oh jesus before going back in for another rough kiss, pushing fingers past the open closure to wrap around him]

[ overlooking the blasphemous exclamations is easier than he'd thought it would be. the abundance of "oh god" in the pornography he's watched was cringeworthy, but something about dean's blaspheming is almost pleasant, like it only connects them that much more. and it isn't as though cas hasn't outright cursed God his own fair share. but he feels a streak of wickedness emerging, and this is the perfect excuse. ]

[ the gun-hardened palm wrapped around him distracts him, making him pant and huff into dean's mouth. he can go, sure, but he's also still over sensitized. catching dean's red lip between his teeth, he grabs the wrist where it's disappearing into his pants and pulls it free, then grabs for the arm still tangled in the shirt. it's no struggle to sit up with both his hands engaged, so he pushes forward, not letting go of dean's mouth, and uses the shirt to wrap loose around both captured wrists. as far as bonds go, it wouldn't hold a lamb, but it serves his need just fine, keeping dean's dangerous hands tucked behind his back when cas rolls them. ]

[his first instinct when anyone tries to trap his arms is always defensive but he settles quickly after a buck of protest, reminds himself it's the bedroom not the battlefield and sinks into the mattress under him with a disgruntled noise for lack of being able to mouth off. he shifts his shoulders, moving his hands to a more comfortable place at the small of his back, but his heel is still dug into the bedspread stiffly from his initial resistance]

[ cages dean's hips with his knees, but his touch at dean's biceps is very light, not pinning or holding him. not yet. he strokes down the length of his arms, up and down for a few sweeps, a wordless reassurance that contrasts with the biting kisses. ]

[ breaks away after too a short a time, because he hasn't forgotten that breathing is essential for dean. ]

Still nothing bad to say about it? [ he moves his hands from dean's arms to his chest, massaging up and along his collarbone. he's got this idea of loosing his belt from its loops at his waist, maybe putting the leather between dean's teeth so he can make all the disgruntled sounds he pleases. but then, maybe that's a little more than dean bargained for, maybe he only wants this if he's in control, if he's "the man" between them, and cas is having second thoughts about how "forward" to be. ]

[tilts head back with a breathy exhale on parting and looks to the ceiling for a beat before refocusing on him because words. he's clearly on the fence about the table turning, eyebrows cocked and still a wrong move away from pulling his hands free. he tilts up again to glance between them, at cas' roaming hands and his knees to either side before meeting his eyes with a relenting half smile]

You're kinda a kinky bastard for a virgin. Whatever makes you happy, man.

[as long as they don't get into does this need a safeword territory. raises eyebrows at him as a don't take it too far addendum]

[ oh he used the v word... ]

Easy, forward, and kinky. This list is getting long.

[ really, he could explain that the technique comes from having had a lot of time to think about it, but explaining is neither necessary nor the most worthwhile use of his mouth right now. to demonstrate, he ducks his head to lave at the anti-possession tattoo before setting his teeth around it. the no-hickeys rule didn't specify bodily parameters, so he errs on the side of caution and doesn't leave any lasting mark, moving on to the nipple he'd assaulted earlier. ]

[ slides backward down the bed, knees aligned with dean's shins rather than his hips, mouth occupying itself above the waist while his hands set about getting those jeans out of his way. ]

Yeah, who's counting...

[trails off when he starts in with the teeth again and drops his head back to the pillow with a groan. mentally adds biter to the list. he doesn't stay where he put him long, working himself up to an elbow after he works his arm out of the tangle of his shirt to watch him move down. his mouth forms a little o of knowing where this is going, but he keeps his commentary to himself for once lest he throw him off course. just keep. keep on keeping on, cas.]

[ rolls his eyes when he sees the shirt flop over the side of the bed. the illusion, at least, was stimulating. ]

[ even with his face pressed against dean's skin, he manages the button and the zipfly without incident, hooking his fingers into the pockets next and using that grip to shimmy the jeans down to the knee. the black cotton shorts underneath are getting a little threadbare, so he's careful not to tear them when he takes the waistband and tugs. ]

[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. ]

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