Title: Here With You
Author: martyred-wings
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: none.
Warnings: Sex in the shower
Word Count: 2062 words
Summary: Dean reached into the motel room's shower stall, held his hand under the running water gushing from the shower head, adjusted the faucet until he was satisfied with the temperature.
Title taken from the song of the same name by Saliva.


Dean reached into the motel room's shower stall, held his hand under the running water gushing from the shower head, adjusted the faucet until he was satisfied with the temperature. He removed his pants, his boxers, stepped under the calming influence of the water and let it flow across his face, his body, washing him free from hunter's dirt and grime.

He closed his eyes, turned slightly, chest rising and falling in an almost silent sigh, as his thoughts slowly drifted to Castiel. He idly wondered where the angel was now, what he was doing, whether he was even thinking of him. He smiled slightly, gently lathered soap between wet hands, before he smoothed the bubbles across the skin of his abdomen.

His hands slowed to a halt, vaguely aware that someone was watching him, that eerie sense of eyes resting on him growing stronger by the second. Dean opened his eyes, blinked against the play of water dashing against his face, before he leant out into the steamy air of the bathroom.

"Sam?" he asked, as he blinked against the water dripping into his eyes, against the steam from the shower clogging the air. "SAM, that you?"

There was no answer, but a slight shifting of feet somewhere nearby alerted the hunter's keen senses to another's presence. He turned, body tense, alert, ready for attack, receiving none. He blinked against the steam, smiled when he recognized the dark haired shape standing near the doorway, silent, stoic, clearly naked.

"Cas, it's you. I thought it was Sam," Dean said, relief brightening the tone of his voice to something more like his normal timbre.

"Why would I be Sam? Would you rather Sam be in here with you?" Castiel questioned, slight amusement held deep within his tone, made his voice seem darker, richer, more sensuous.

Dean shivered, more from the sudden play of desire dancing over his skin at the sound of Castiel's voice than chills, and he breathed in, out, in again, before he trusted himself to reply.

"I'm glad it's you, Cas," was all that he said, all that he trusted himself to say.

"Good," the angel replied, before he closed the distance between them, feet padding almost silently across the floor.

Dean watched him approach, eyes running up and over Castiel's naked form, eyes lingering on the angel's arousal, back up to his face once more. Dean licked his lips slowly, caught droplets of water upon damp lips, as Castiel slowly stepped into the shower stall with him. Dean was held transfixed by Castiel's steady gaze, by the way that the angel pinned him with one look, face slightly tilted downwards, eyes staring intently up at him from beneath close drawn eyebrows.

"Cas," Dean breathed out, hand ghosting across Castiel's arm, accepted him closer to his body as the angel stepped nearer.

Dean tilted his head back and slightly to the side, inviting Castiel in, received a kiss pressed to the sensitive flesh of his neck, breath tickling against his wet skin. He groaned as he felt Castiel's tongue lapping against his neck, licking away droplets of water, hot wet tongue working thoroughly over his skin like a kitten's. Dean leant into Castiel, gave himself to him as the angel pressed lips to Dean's neck, worked their silken surfaces against him, sucked a bruise into willing flesh.

Dean felt his cock stiffen, twitch, press against the angel's thigh, made Castiel grumble out - "yes."

The scent of heady arousal filled the air as Castiel leant in closer, felt Dean's body react more strongly to his, almost purred deep within his throat when he felt Dean succumb to him, willingly. He pressed Dean against the tiled wall behind him, felt the water rush over them both, the warm water soaking his skin in seconds. He felt desire rush through him, overtaking every sense that he had, grew stronger with every second he spent beneath the warm water.

His wings unfurled, and he angled their feathered surfaces beneath the gentle rush and flow of water from the shower, eyes closed, full, ripened lips parted, seemed fuller than ever in his arousal. Dean watched him, fascinated, as Castiel bathed in the warmth, gloried in the feel of the water hitting his skin, as it soaked through his feathered wings, soaked his hair flat to his head. It seemed as though, to Dean, as if the angel was turned on by the feel of the water cascading down upon him, arousing him, and in turn, Dean was aroused by the sight of it, of Castiel himself.

He looked so beautiful, so perfect, so ethereal that Dean wanted to touch him, run possessive hands over the angel's skin, wanted Castiel to fill him, to fuck him, to love him. As if hearing his thoughts, Castiel's eyes slowly opened, seemed a richer blue than usual, pupils dilated, blown wide in undisguised lust. His lips parted more, tongue poked out for an all too brief instant as he licked his lower lip sensuously, eyes distant, body trembling slightly in tension.

"Cas, please," Dean murmured. "Please."

He reached out, touched his chest, ran questing fingertips down angelic skin, almost reached Castiel's cock, before the angel stopped him, halted his hand before he could wrap fingers around his arousal.

"No, Dean. Not yet," Castiel commanded, voice deeper, richer, head dropping again, eyes glaring from beneath his eyebrows once more.

Dean shuddered with want, need, desire; felt the need for Castiel to fuck him grow stronger within him. The angel smiled, felt the sudden shift of tension within the hunter's body, sensed the receptiveness towards him, the need to be fucked, the desire, the love for Castiel himself spilling out from every pore of Dean's body.

Castiel leant in, pressed deceptively gentle lips against Dean's, murmured in satisfaction when Dean responded, started moving his mouth against Dean's, lips working against lips, tongues meeting in a sinful lover's dance as their tongues fucked and plundered each other's mouths. Dean finally broke away, needed to breathe, leant his head against the tiles behind him, eyes partially closed, chest rising and falling with labored breathing.

"Cas, please, please," Dean almost begged, definitely whimpered, caused Castiel to smile, to lean in further.

"Please what, Dean? Say it," he demanded, as he nuzzled against Dean's shoulder lovingly, biting down gently upon the hand shaped burn upon his shoulder.

Dean cried out, shuddered against Castiel, skin brushing sensuously against skin. Dean shuddered again when Castiel repeated the gesture, biting, then suckling at the scar; made pinpricks of excitement race through Dean's body at the contact.

"Please fuck me, Cas," Dean said quietly, eyes closed, lips parted, every inch of him laid bare for Castiel to take.

The angel purred in satisfaction, manoeuvred Dean away from him, leant the hunter against the wall, slightly bent, legs slightly apart. He leant in, pressed a kiss against the nape of Dean's neck, cock pressed hard against Dean's leg, intention clear. He held his hand beneath the still running water, until it was slick, shining, before he pressed one finger against Dean's tight hole, made Dean whimper as he gained entrance. There was resistance at first and he waited, until Dean relaxed, let Castiel ease his finger deeper inside him, further loosening him in readiness for his cock.

Dean rocked back onto Castiel's hand when the angel started sliding his finger almost all the way out again, fucked himself hard against Castiel's hand, cried desperately for something, anything more to happen. Castiel pressed his finger inside him again, stroked across his prostate, made Dean yell for him. He pressed in another finger, stretched him further still, made Dean's body shake against his in unbridled interest and need as he stroked skilfully over his prostate.

Dean continued fucking himself upon Castiel's hand, cries falling from his lips as his straining erection grew uncomfortably hard. He tried to wrap his hand around his cock, wanted to jerk off, but Castiel's hand stopped him, held his hand gently.

Dean protested, until all was forgotten with the exquisite feel of Castiel's cock easing inside him, replacing the angel's fingers with its larger embrace. He shuddered, eyes staring blindly at the feel of his angel filling him, sheathing himself fully inside him and he shouted out for Castiel, such want, such desperate need caught deep within his voice, his voice almost didn‘t sound like his own.

Castiel withdrew, thrust himself in more firmly, withdrew, body shuddering against Dean's at the exquisite tight warmth of Dean wrapping around his arousal like velvet. He lost himself to everything that made up Dean, world narrowed down to how Dean made him feel, and he thrust in harder still.

He wanted Dean, wanted to pleasure him, wanted to be pleasured by him, wanted to fill him with his release, and cry out for him. He braced his hands against Dean's hips, thrust hard inside the hunter, grunts and moans of pleasure and exertion filling the air around them both.

Finding his hand free, Dean gratefully wrapped his fingers around his weeping erection, started pumping his fist across his arousal, soon started shouting for Castiel as he smeared pre-cum down his throbbing shaft. His fingers stroked across his head, dragged across the slit, stroked across the sensitive skin of his shaft and his knees almost buckled, threatened to spill them both to the stall's floor.

Castiel's hands tightened on his waist, held them both up, as he continued thrusting into Dean, pleasured grunts turning into full blown cries the nearer he came to completion. He heard Dean jerking himself off furiously beneath him, felt his orgasm begin to gather, to descend through him at the thought of it, to set his veins alight with desire. His climax shot through him like untamed wildfire, travelled through his body, through his cock, and he released himself, filled Dean with his come.

He tilted his head back, yelled out for Dean, felt the hunter still furiously stroking himself beneath him and he reached round, wrapped fingers around Dean's furiously pumping hand, helped him on his way to screaming release. He felt Dean's come spurt out in thick strands across their hands and he climaxed again at the feel of Dean's tight warmth clenching firmly around his cock. He filled Dean with his spurting release, cried out for Dean once more, rocked into his body with the force of his climax.

Finally, their sinful lover's dance slowed to a stop and they leant against one another, breathing heavily, until Castiel finally eased himself from Dean's hole, turned Dean to face him. Dean smiled at the angel, draped gentle arms around his waist, held Castiel close as the water cascaded down upon them.

Castiel smiled, eyes brightening in pure joy, as he leant in to steal a kiss from Dean's willing lips. Neither spoke, neither needed to speak; both knew that the experience they had shared would always be theirs, would never be shared with another. Dean laced his fingers through Castiel's dark hair, cradled his body tight against his, stroked Castiel's wings soothingly until Castiel pulled away regretfully.

Dean knew that Castiel had to leave him, by the look in his eyes, the set of his body, the slight droop of disappointment in his shoulders, his wings.

"You'll come back, right?" Dean asked, before Castiel could say anything.

"Always," Castiel replied, eyes raising, locking onto Dean's with such ferocious intense love caught deep within them, it made Dean's heart stop momentarily.

The hunter blinked, heard the sound of wings cutting the air, and when he opened his eyes once more, Castiel was gone, leaving him alone in the stall. The water seemed colder now that the angel had gone, leaving Dean with no choice but to shut the faucet off, shivering against the slight chill in the air. He rubbed himself dry and warm with the thin motel towel, felt warmer still when he dressed in his own clothes once more.

He looked back into the bathroom, before stepping out into the main motel room, and for an all too brief instant, he saw a handprint pressed clearly into the steam on the mirror. Dean smiled, knew that Castiel was telling him he'd always be there, watching, as the handprint slowly faded, almost as though it had never even been there at all ....