The Soul Burns Brighter Than The Sun

Chapter 11: Kentucky Fried Chicken

smut warning again

If somebody had told Dean that being with Cas would mean sitting in a car with him for several hours on end, grace buzzing inside his body, at his nipples, scalp, balls, and even teasing in long strokes around his hips and ass, Dean doesn't know if he would've kissed Cas sooner or never. Probably sooner. Definitely sooner.

Every damn time Dean tries to change the music from what Cas picks out, Cas's angel grace vibrates against the base of his dick, and every time Cas looks at him all innocent and sweet, like he has no idea that Dean's rocking a hard on in his jeans in a car with his entire family, minus Jack.

Sam, Eileen, and Cas form some kind of half plan during the drive to Portland, Oregon. It's a two day drive, but they're nearing Portland now, just outside of Boise in fact, when that grace buzzing in his blood turns into something hot and freezing at the same time, buzzing silently underneath Dean's balls.

Two days of this. Two damn days Dean's been driving and trying not to swerve them off the road when Cas flicks his eyes to Dean from the rearview mirror and his lips twitch slightly, the only warning Dean gets when Cas tortures him ever so slightly more.

Well, it's not torture, per say. Dean's a willing participant, very willing actually. It's just that Cas hasn't let him finish once in two days of near constant stimulation, whether that's Cas's grace touching him, or last night in their hotel room as Cas's hand gripped Dean's dick in a firm hold and nothing more as Dean panted, begging Cas to let him come, all for Cas to just simply say, "You're so gorgeous like this, but no. I like you like this, strung out and beautiful, and so, so desperate."

Needless to say, Dean's losing his mind. It doesn't help that he and Cas have only had sex once. He fucking wants more. Everytime he closes his eyes, he thinks about Cas fucking him into Dean's mattress. He wants–no, needs more.

Dean doesn't know what Cas is waiting for, but Dean does know that Cas is having way too much fun teasing and edging Dean like this for the past two days. So Dean's pulled out a couple stops trying to get Cas to give in, but they're in a battle of wills. Cas has the patience of waiting over a hundred thousand years to lose his virginity, but Dean has thirty odd years of flirting and man-whoring around under his belt. Cas might have the self-discipline of a rock, but Dean's got nothing to lose but his sanity if Cas keeps this up for another day, let alone another hour.

Immovable object, meet unstoppable force. Dean's gonna move this mountain if it kills him.

Dean's plan starts about thirty five minutes outside of Boise. First, he does his damn best to ignore the bundle of grace just under his balls that vibrates faster and faster as Dean reaches forward and takes out the Christina Aguleria tape and pops in Zeppelin I. He grits his teeth as he does it, and plays off the choking whine in his throat with a cough turned sneeze that makes Sam laugh and ask if he lost some brain cells in that sneeze.

Exactly 22 minutes later, Dean stares into the rearview mirror and locks eyes with Cas.

I've been dazed and confused for so long it's not true.

Wanted a woman, never bargained for you.

Lots of people talking, few of them know

The soul of a woman was created below

And then the guitar whines as Jimmy Page croons through the guitar. Dean raises his face higher so Cas can see it in the mirror, and then he licks his lips and lets them fall slightly open, the sigh breathing through them nearly silent. Nobody else in the car notices the sigh, it's a long drive after all, a sigh is normal, but Cas's eyes narrow.