Title: Hope And Love Shared
Author: martyred-wings
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, kink: blood!play, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: none.
Warnings: Blood!play
Word Count: 1700 words
Summary: Set during the episode "Lucifer Rising" and Dean discovers that angel blood is addictive. This leads to more, so much more between man and angel...
A/N: Written for the "Christmas in July" theme on spnwriterlounge.


Dean watched, transfixed, as Castiel sliced his forearm open, sliding the blade of the knife across too fragile skin, before blood dripped down, over his arm, onto the floor. Although the blood made no noise, Dean could almost imagine the steady drip-drip-drip of Castiel's blood hitting the floor at his feet and he could certainly smell it - that familiar coppery tang lacing the air, filling his nose and settling in his gut.

He closed his eyes, inhaled, smelled something sweet, pure, clean, that must have belonged to the angel himself rather than to the vessel. It added a certain something to normal blood that was unfamiliar yet felt like home, and Dean's cock reacted to it, strained against the fabric of his boxers, his jeans. He gave an involuntary groan, wanted to take Castiel's arm in eager hands, to lick the blood free, to taste it, to drink it, to make himself feel good.

Dean opened his eyes, the lights from overhead seeming suddenly too bright now, threatened to blind and overcome, before he watched as the angel dipped slender fingers into the dark life-blood coating his arm, smearing it in wide swathes and circles on the creamy, too bland wall before him.

Familiar sigils of an angel repelling spell started to form, painted by a skilful hand, a look of concentration narrowing Castiel's face, lips pressed down tight, a furrow creased between dark eyebrows the longer he concentrated. Dean moaned again, wanted to kiss those puckered lips, kiss that furrow away and make the angel moan and writhe against him. The smell of Castiel's blood was like a drug, working its magic upon his senses and making him feel intoxicated.

A sudden noise from behind him, a shifting of angry feet and a loud exclamation of horror drew his attention to Zachariah, bearing down on them angrily, looking ready to smite them both into oblivion. Castiel wasted no time, pressed a blood smeared hand to the center of his own sigil, completing the spell and repelling Zachariah to who-knew where and who-cared-where.

Dean closed his eyes against the flare of white expelled-angel light, covering his face with his own arm, blinking in the sudden flares of too-bright afterimages on the backs of his eyes. When the too-bright sun-burst after-images faded, Dean re-opened his eyes, blinking slightly, his eyes feeling raw, tender, sore. Zachariah had gone, disappeared, but Castiel was still there, scented with blood and his own angelic essence, breathing deeply against his own exertions.

He wiped his hand against his trench coat, trying to remove the blood from his palm, his fingers, but the thick liquid was starting to dry already, and traces of congealed blood still clung to his fingers. A look of disgust passed across the angel's face, and he wiped harder, before he inhaled sharply when Dean suddenly pressed eager lips to the cut slowly healing on Castiel's arm, not able to hold himself back any longer from tasting the angel‘s blood.

Dean's lips felt so soft, his tongue so cleansing against Castiel's skin, as Dean lapped eagerly at the deep wound, moans squeezing past pre-occupied lips as the hunter suckled. With every lap, every suck, every gentle bite of the hunter's mouth, Castiel moaned, his eyes slowly closing against the pleasure slowly working through his own veins.

Every sweep and pass of Dean's tongue sent an electrical charge of desire through Castiel's borrowed body, raced through his veins straight to his cock. He felt the erection straining against his dark pants and he cried out, louder this time, cried out for Dean and urged him on, encouraged him to greater efforts as he licked. He groaned again, quieter this time, before he laced one bloodstained hand through Dean's short hair, gently cradled the hunter's head, as he continued licking and biting the angel clean.

Dean moaned against Castiel's arm, sending tiny vibrations of pleasure coursing through the angel, the blood working its way across the hunter's tongue and down his throat, tasting better than the most refreshing cool spring water. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of angelic forearm, still sucking and licking even when the blood was long since gone, stripped away, licked clean by a hungry tongue. Dean couldn't stop himself, wanted more of the magical blood coursing through him, never wanted the blood rush to leave him.

He protested when Castiel slowly, gently pulled him free, drawing the hunter to his feet almost regretfully. Dean stared at the angel, eyes wide, lips parted and still smeared with blood, as Castiel fought for breath, slim chest rising and falling against his own lust and desire, pupils blown so wide, his eyes looked black instead of comforting blue. Moans fell from parted full lips, begging for release, begging for kisses to be stolen, begging for something more.

Dean's cock gave an interested jerk, and he closed the distance between them, pressing urgent, hungry lips against Castiel's, moaning against the soft feel of them beneath his own, softer even than they looked. Castiel responded, lips working against Dean's, parting slightly when Dean demanded entrance, before breath mingled in gasping bursts, tongues explored, entwined, moans mingled in equal parts need, want, lust, desire, craving.

Castiel didn't protest when Dean turned him to face the wall, didn't protest when the hunter forcefully removed the tan trench coat from slender shoulders, just braced himself against his own blood smeared against the cream paint work in front of him.. Dean leant in, warm body pressed against his, erection pressing hard against Castiel's ass, making the angel cry out Dean's name in a surprised burst.

Dean's fingers fumbled with the buckle of Castiel's belt, finally working the leather free with Castiel's help, before working the zipper down on Castiel's dark pants. His fingers brushed against the angel's erection, teased him through the thin fabric of his boxers and Castiel bucked his hips against Dean's hand, breath wheezing past parted lips, pleading mewlings falling from parted full lips. Cool air spilled across the angel's thighs, across his bare ass when Dean pulled his boxers free from slim hips, and he inhaled sharply.

Dean drew slightly blood stained fingers into his own mouth, licking the remainder of the blood clean, making each finger spit slick, shining against the light thrown down from above. He eased one finger slowly inside his angel, easing open tight muscles, stopping at Castiel's initial hiss of pain. When the angel's breathing calmed a little, lost its pain filed edge, Dean inserted another finger inside him, and Castiel squirmed a little, rocking back against Dean's hand with a whimper, a mewl of need.

He stopped, a little surprised at the needy noises coming from such a powerful being, but at Castiel's insistent protests, he started scissoring and twisting his fingers inside him, making the angel moan, breathy gasps caught deep within his throat. He rubbed skilful fingers over Castiel's prostate, making the angel's moans turn into full blown cries, and Dean couldn't wait any longer.

He withdrew from Castiel, to unbuckle, unzip his jeans hastily, still tasting Castiel's blood rich on his tongue, zinging through his veins and making him feel invincible, untouchable, craving the being that had given him that blood to begin with. He spat on his hand once more, coated his straining erection with his own saliva, before he gripped Castiel's hips, holding him steady as he thrust his cock inside the angel.

Both Dean and Castiel cried out loudly, breathy moans mingling, as Dean thrust roughly into the angel, feeling Castiel's muscles clamp tightly around him, with every move he made, every time he thrust into him. The world receded, disappeared, narrowed down to Castiel, and the way he felt beneath him, surrounding him, the way he responded to Dean, rocking back into Dean's hips hungrily, begging for more, faster, harder. Dean complied willingly, feeling the first stirrings of an orgasm race through him, settling in his abdomen behind his navel, filling his flesh with tingling sensations all over his skin, building, building, building, until he could hold back no more.

He threw his head back, releasing himself deep inside Castiel, shouting repeatedly for the angel beneath him, riding out the last of his orgasm with meaningless cries, erratic thrusts into Castiel, breath catching in his throat and threatening to choke him. He was only dimly aware of Castiel taking his own leaking erection in one shaking hand, pumping his fist hard over his own cock, crying out for Dean as he did so. Finally, finally Dean's orgasm settled, calmed, and he withdrew, leaving Castiel still leaning against the wall, resting in his own now dried blood. He watched as Castiel finally came, coating his own hand and the wall before him with his release, bucking his hips hard into his own palm with a long and drawn out cry of Dean‘s name.

Castiel leant his forehead against his forearm, breathing heavily, chest straining, full lips parted as he drew in breath. Dean came forward, tilted Castiel's face to his own, stealing a kiss from the angel's lips, a kiss stolen willingly. Castiel responded, wet, hot, open mouthed, needy, as though he'd been waiting for that one kiss for a very long time, needed it, wanted it, craved it.

Neither of them wanted the moment, the experience they'd shared to end, but a noise from somewhere outside the room alerted them to a presence, the imminent arrival if a wrathful Zachariah over being expelled. Hastily they dressed, before Castiel pressed his palm to Dean's forehead, transporting them out of harm's way, heading for Chuck's meager house.

Neither of them spoke of what they'd just done, but both knew from the meaningful looks they shared, that should they live through the upcoming war with Lucifer, the sex would continue. Both had enjoyed it too much, to let that be a one off experience.

Even though that might be far off into their shared future, it was something to live for, a reward. They would always have each other no matter what happened in the still too uncertain future. There would always be hope, and love shared to see them through ...