Re: Supernatural Dean/Castiel the man who sold the world
Alistair was truthful, when he said there was a sort of beauty in suffering.
"Then let me give you peace tonight." He murmurs, and leans in to lay a kiss over those glittering eyes. He gives into the hand on his neck pulling him into a true kiss, and shifts the dream.
Another hotel, anywhere, the Winchesters have stayed in enough that the details flicker. The bed is soft, and Castiel lets Den undress him while he pays homage to the hard lines of the man's body with fingers and lips. It's easy, as it only can be in dreams, to trace the naked skin of Dean's hips, the vulnerable curve of his sex. easy to roll the hunter on top and let Dean's much more vast experience in this form of love guide him.
It's harder to turn the savage, angry thrusts into something pleasurable to them both. Harder to look into those lost eyes and see the man he swore, long long ago to a woman already counting down her days by a demon's deal, to watch over, always. Harder, but not too hard.
Not as hard as it is to cast aside the knowledge of his mission and let Dean find his pleasure in Castiel's vessel. It hurts to kiss pouty lips, knowing it's the only time he will ever, ever be allowed to do so.
When Dean sleeps, truly sleeps beyond the reach of dreams, Castiel moves through the Singer house, down to the locked panic room binding Samuel Winchester, and releases the door.