Title: Caution: Will Overheat
Pairing: Dean/Castiel, background Jimmy/Amelia
Warnings: …porn? use of toys, Teen AU, establish relationship
Summary: One hot summer day, Dean and Cas have some fun in a treehouse.
Dean's eyes are half-lidded, body long and languid in the summer sun. His phone beeps and he blinks his eyes open, contemplating the effort to reach his arm out and grab it. It beeps again and he lets out a grunt, flinging his arm out lazily.
Cas: Are you bored yet?
Dean drops his head back against the Impala, his sunbathing perch of choice.
Dean: A little.
Dean puts the phone on his chest and closes his eyes again, a drop of sweat trickling slowly down his skin.
Cas: Then get your ass over here.
He pouts, the half a block walk to Cas' seems much too far—but if he knows Cas, and he does, Cas can get Dean to do just about anything. And so he heaves himself up and meanders to the Novack's. By the time he gets there, the sun is beating overhead, hot on the back of his neck, and his shirt is plastered to his skin from the sweat. Jimmy takes one look at him and points to the treehouse in the backyard. As Dean starts to make his way over there, Jimmy shouts.
"Can you two at least try to keep it down?"
"You 'n Amelia never do," he shouts back, watching in amusement as a dark flush sweeps his cheeks.
"That's different," he says stiffly and Dean crosses his arms, raising an eyebrow.
"We don't live right next door to each other."
"Hey, don't be hatin' on the fact that your brother gets more action than you."
Jimmy looks flustered and Dean is triumphant, a slow smirk curving on his lips, when his phone beeps again.
Cas: Dean, stop discussing our sex lives with my brother and get up here.
Dean grins and waves mockingly at Jimmy, who manages to stop blushing long enough to say: "Hey, Dean, just know that the sounds make it no secret on who usually tops and bottoms!"
Dean trips and flips Jimmy off with a glare before slowly climbing up the ladder on the only tree in the yard. His fingers are slick and leave dark stains on the wood and time seems to stick, gooey like honey and sticky like molasses.
Finally, he pulls himself over the edge with a low groan, panting heavily as he lay on his back, glaring at the amused, blue-eyed face of the boy above him.
"Shut up," he whines. "It's hot as balls out there."
Cas snorts and sits on his haunches, the very picture of unruffled cool. "I wouldn't know. I've been up here all day."
Dean sits up, eying him. It really isn't much cooler in here than it is out there, the lack of sun by no means taking way the extreme, suffocating humidity.
"What have you been doing?" He demands, half-incredulous, and, oh, Cas just smiles, and Dean knows that smile, knows it means equal parts trouble and pleasure for him and he can feel his body reacting accordingly, want spreading, mouth going dry. He swallows when Cas starts prowling to him on al fours, sleek like a jungle cat and twice as predatory.
"Have you missed me, Dean?" he purrs, eyes lidded and sharp as he settled between Dean's sprawled legs. Dean nods wordlessly, throat working around another swallow, eyes '
"Do you want to know what I did all day up here? All alone?" he asks in that same velvet voice, the one that crawls down Dean's spine and settles, a coil of heat in his gut.
"What?" His voice is a full octave lower, Cas' voice and the sweltering heat making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge. He inhales sharply when the wild-haired, blue-eyed boy leans forward and uses those long, clever fingers to peel off Dean's shirt, the heat making his tanned skin glisten. Cas presses his nose into the pulse of Dean's throat, inhaling deeply as he settles into Dean's lap, Dean's hands automatically curling on Cas' hips. He tips his head back, baring his throat with a soft whine.
As Cas' teeth scrape down his neck, Dean's fingers curl under Cas' shirt, and he pulls his hand away from Cas' mouth so as to tug it off, broad palms frantically seeking to touch miles of pale, unblemished skin. Cas' teeth immediately sink into the skin of his neck, sucking a dark, bruising hickey that he's sure Sam will make fun of him for later, but right now he can't help but moan, fingers curling possessively on Cas' hips. Castiel, the fucker, has the nerve to chuckle and roll his hips down, ass grinding against his clothed erection. The boy nibbles his way alongside Dean's jaw, nipping skin here and there until his lips reach Dean's ear, tongue coming out to trace along the shell. Dean bites back a whimper, eyes blown wide and chest slick with sweat.
"Dean," he breathes, hot on Dean's skin. "If you want to know what I've been doing all day, get us both naked now."
Dean needs no asking twice. With shaking fingers, he unpops the buttons on Cas' jeans and pulls them off before doing the same to himself, hooking the boxers along so they come off too. They're both nude and he stops for a moment to admire the view, the midday head making Cas' skin glisten. It is stifling, intoxicating and he wants more, eyes roaming hungrily as they take in Castiel's trim form, eyelids drooped and dark, mouth slick and bitten red by his own teeth, the smooth curve of his ass raised perfectly to view...
His stomach drops.
"C-Cas?" He stutters, voice hoarse and d raspy as his fingers come out to push at the inside of Cas' entrance. Cas hisses at the contact and looks at him from under his lashes, glinting mischievously.
"Pull it out, Dean," he rumbles in that voice made of pure sin, all gravel and smoke. Dean shudders and hooks his fingers around it, watching in fascination how Cas' hole clenches to try and keep it in. Once it's out, Cas launches himself at Dean, pushing him so he's sitting against the wall, legs spread and cock hard and flushed as it curved against his stomach.. Cas pulls a bottle of lube from his jeans pocket and slicks his hand up, wrapping those long, slender fingers around Dean's cock. The touch is like lightning, electricity buzzing up Dean's spine as he drops his head back against the wall, gasping out Cas' name. Castiel shoots the green-eyed boy a self-satisfied grin, thumb teasing the head of his cock before he slips it away, straddling Dean's hips.
"Dean, look at me," Cas says urgently, and Dean's eyes fly open to meet his just as Cas sinks down. Dean's back arches and his mouth opens in a soundless gasp, their breath mingling with Cas' his as he adjusts himself. They pause like that for a moment, lips so close they are nearly touching, sharking breath as sweat drips down both their brows.
Then, Cas starts to move.
Dean lets out a strangled moan, eyes falling shut, lower lip caught between his teeth. His breath comes in hiccuped gasps, Cas' suffocating tightness making his hiips buck up, which earns him a choked hiss from Cas' rose-bitten mouth. He pants heavily against Cas' lips and swallows his whimpers, felling every rise and fall and undulation of his hips, his muscles quivering under Dean's hands.
It must be at least 100 degrees between them, each movement bringing new droplets of sweat in their eyes and down their faces, tongues darting out to taste salt. Dean's nostrils flare, his eyes drowned in black ringed a vibrant green, and he feels his toes curl when Cas clenches around him, a firebolt of lust shooting up his spine as Cas rides him hard, soft grunts rumbling in his throat.
"Cas," he groans gutturally, "So close." The blue-eyed boy moans in response, increasing his pace. Dean brings a broad palm to wrap around Cas' blood-flushed cock and revels in the jerk and high keening sound that is brought out from Cas, his rhythm starting to stutter. They're both close, Cas writhing on top of him as each thrust hits that sensitive bundle of nerves that meakes him scream, combined with Dean's thumb teasing thes lit of his cock. Dean is so close, just one more thrust and Cas comes, yelling out his name. In the process, Cas clenches around him and leans down to capture his lips in a hot, filthy slide of tongues and teeth and that's it - Dean's orgasm rushes through him, sudden and explossive as he spills inside of Cas, who's still riding him throughout.
After a spectacular white-out, he comes to slumped against the wall, Cas limp on top of him. He blinks drowsily, one hand rising up to card through the boy's mussed, dark hair.
"Jesus, Cas," he husks, voice tinged with a deep southern drawl that makes said boy shiver against him.
"Just Cas is okay," he quips lazily, husky and gritty. He presses his nose into Dean's neck, heart still hammering. Dean splays a hand to that beating heart and meets Cas' lips in a searching, soft kiss as their breathing slows.
"I never wanna move again," he mumbles, pulling Cas close, ignoring the dried come on both their stomachs and the sweat sticking their skin together. Cassnuggles closer.
"Me either," he murmurs.
So they don't.
Meanwhile, back at the house, a queasy Jimmy Novack dials a number on his phone.
"Hey, Amelia, can I come over?"