Dean Winchester is Saved. (perditionfree) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-02-18 17:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, dean winchester, michael |
Who: Dean Winchester & Michael
What: A butting of heads
When: 2/18
Where: Lucifer’s
Rating: PG-13 for graphic language
Status: Complete
Dean knew Lucifer didn’t particularly need him to go check up on his ridiculously fancy car since he was full archangel and either didn’t need to drive or could just fix things without understanding how they worked. Still, he wanted to do it. Lucifer was important to him and checking up on someone’s cars was just a way to show affection. The whole time he was poking around the Lexus, he cast a dark glare at Michael’s car parked neatly next to it in the spot meant for Dean’s Impala. Sure, Lucifer had garage space enough for all three of them, but that didn’t mean he was pleased about Michael clearly moving into the spots that were rightfully his.
Still, he gave the Aston a once over too just to be sure. He left his shoes and socks at the back door and padded barefoot into the house, pulling his shirt off to jam it in the wash and grab a set of clean clothes he had stashed over here. A shower would be great. And hey, his casa, Lucifer’s casa, right? And vice versa. That’d been the deal pretty much. He fired off a text to the Devil to let him know he was there and he’d given his car a checkup.
Dean didn’t know why, but he hadn’t expected Michael to actually be there. He’d expected him off elsewhere or like riding the angel train or some shit. Lifting his head to see his old CO there in a space he’d viewed as his and safe for so long was jarring. It was domestic. He really didn’t know how he felt about it.
Gabriel probably would have been unhappy seeing Michael taking a knife to the chocolate turtle he had sent him, at least the way Michael did it. Not considerate or even. The thing had actually been rather cute, well detailed, but Michael had sliced through it at an angle and now it was unrecognizable for what it had once been. Now it was just a angled lump that Michael wrapped back up in wax paper and returned it to where he had been keeping it in the back of the fridge. That done he took a bite of what he had cut off only to look up and see Dean there.
Truth be told he wasn’t a jumpy man. Didn’t have the intense PTSD that had him jumping at every sound, the colors made him less likely to jump, though he found he was able to tune out or down the colors occasionally. Living with others was teaching him selective hearing, particularly with the everyday sounds of life around the house. Keys in locks, the sounds of footsteps, the opening and closing of doors, he was used to all of that now, the neutral brown of it barely registering as he was expecting it to be Lucifer or Samandriel he saw when he looked up.
Michael simply looked the shirtless man up and down, not surprised at all that he was in the same shape he had been in the last time he had seen him shirtless, brow raised a little in surprise. “Winchester.” he said, seemingly unfazed by seeing him there. He extended the hand holding the chocolate, “Want some? It’s from Gabriel.”
Dean took the chocolate for the olive branch that it was. “Wasn’t expecting you here,” he said, though that seemed pretty obvious didn’t it? He jammed his shirt in his back pocket. “You sure it ain’t poisoned?” he asked, but ate it anyway. Not like there weren’t angels around who couldn’t fix either or both of them. Frankly, Gabriel probably wouldn’t risk it. It’d be too much effort. “I was uh…” He made a vague gesture to the stairs, feeling more exposed than he ever had in this house and he’d been laid bare in more than one sense of the word. “Gonna get a shower.”
“Well, I live here now, so I’ll probably be here a lot.” Michael pointed out, surprisingly not being in any way patronizing. He knew Dean was surprised, clearly in his state he hadn’t expected to run into anyone. He wasn’t going to be a dick about it unless Dean made an issue out of it, after all he was still getting over the feeling of being a guest in the house himself.
He could have commented on the poisoning crack but the slight amused look he gave Dean said it all. Gabriel was too intent on being ‘super-duper BFFS 4life’ to actually poison him. He wouldn’t have put it past him to put something else in there though on the pretense of ‘loosening’ Michael up.
“Yeah, well, you know where it is.” He wasn’t sure if someone had told him that Dean would be over a lot or that they had given him a key, but the ease with which he moved about the house told him Dean knew he was allowed to be there. He wasn’t able to resist a joke though, “Do you need me to wash your back?”
“That explains why your POS import is in my spot,” Dean said, though the insult lacked most of its heat in the face of Michael’s offer to wash his back. He popped the last bit of chocolate into his mouth and looked down. Yeah, this was...awkward. He crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture that might’ve been intimidating from anyone else but was more a sign of Dean’s discomfort than anything. “So, what do you think is the overunder on this whole thing? I mean do you wanna wash my back or do you wanna like...buy me flowers and dinner first?” He arched a critical brow at Michael.
“I mean I assume I’m worth at least that. Don’t you? Pretty little thing like me.” He let his hands drop to his hips and smirked at Michael, giving all the Winchester charm he hadn’t been allowed to the last time they were in such close proximity and one of them was half dressed.
“You might have been if you hadn’t just insulted Kara.” Yes, he had fallen in love with his car because of a Bond film, it was only fitting in his mind to name the car after that movie’s Bond Girl. “You lost your right to the whole wining and dining treatment. You might have even lost the right to a reach-around, but that depends on how nice you’re gonna be to me from here on out.”
Flirting, or whatever one was to call what they were doing, really didn’t surprise Michael. Their ribbing and insults had always had heavy sexual overtones, it had made it all just that more entertaining. Eventually the abuse would lessen, the flirting would take center stage, that was what always happened with guys like Dean, and no matter what Samandriel or Lucifer said he really didn’t think of himself as like Dean enough to be lumped into that group. “All I can offer is a rough fuck against the shower wall, the rest of it is up to you.”
Dean arched a brow, really not wanting to think about how appealing that actually sounded. He crossed the space between them, leaving only a few inches to spare. “You really think I’d let you top?” he asked. He reached up to touch his ex-CO’s face tauntingly. “I don’t have to do what you say now, sir. Shoulda taken advantage of that while you could’ve. You coulda probably snapped at me to get on my knees back then and I would’ve done it. How many times did you think it, sir? Just there in the back of your mind all Winchester, suck my cock.”
He wasn’t sure that he was pushing the right buttons, but it didn’t matter. They were gonna need to be pushed anyway. “A lot? Was it your favorite way to blow off steam in the john? Didn’t even need a titty mag did you?”
Michael could have broken every bone in that hand in a single move if he had wanted, just as Dean could have to him if the mood struck. That was likely why, even before DADT was repealed, that marines were not encouraged to be rough with one another. Michael was either still in that mindset or he really didn’t want Dean to take that hand away. Whichever it was he wasn’t letting on, instead looking up at him with an amused little smile.
He did chuckle at that last image, though thankfully the red-orange invading his vision didn’t form into those shapes, instead moving like the pulse indicator on a heart monitor. “You know, and this might actually break that poor, fragile little heart of yours, but I didn’t think about it. Not even once. As pretty as your lips are and all the uses I could find for them, I couldn’t get past the fact that you were constantly filthy and stunk like the enlisted. Good to know you shower in your civilian life though. Your husband’s influence or Lucifer’s?”
“Easier to shower when someone’s not claiming drought conditions constantly,” he pointed out. Michael wasn’t pushing him away and that was something, his fingers brushed against that slightly stubble rough cheek. “Looking back, I’m beginning to think you wanted me filthy.” He leaned down as if to kiss him but stopped just short. “Seems like something you’d do just to assert whatever sense of control you thought you had.” Michael might have been in charge, but Dean had been pretty good at subtly bucking authority as much as he could. He obeyed when he had to and then did his own thing as soon as the brass stopped looking.
“Dean Winchester is calling me petty, I think that might be the most amusing thing I’ve heard since I moved to California.” He had a lot more experience playing ‘gay chicken’ than most anyone would have believed so was unphased when Dean leaned in and didn’t tilt his smirking face away until after he spoke. He wouldn’t have to defend himself against what Dean had said, the man knew Michael had done everything he could for his men and only followed orders when it came to budget cuts or water allowances. Michael also knew that when Dean got precious over the motor pool he was just doing his job, and far better than he had ever been expected to. “I did own your ass though, no need for any sort of dominance display. If I had wanted you, on your knees and begging for the privilege of my cock,” he leaned forward, their cheeks not touching but dangerously close as he tauntingly whispered the last, “That’s where you would have been.”
Dean let his fingers trail down Michael's neck, over his chest before he finally let his hand come to rest at the other man's waist. He wasn't gonna hide the fact that this was absolutely getting to him. Hell, he'd done his stint in the adult entertainment industry. If he'd kept going he'd probably have ended up in a scene just like this. Shit, it might've actually been with Michael in some weird parallel world where he embraced his sexuality as well as he did the bottle. "Mmm, not pretty or young enough for you then? You all about boys like the kid? I gotta admit, he's got that whole begging thing down to an art. No way in hell I'd ever be able to compete against someone who doesn't need to breathe when it comes to sucking cock either."
He squared his shoulders up and actually let his lips touch Michael's ear as he spoke. "All this talk of you taking control is making me wonder if you don't really just wanna give it up for once. Let someone else take command so you can just follow orders like a good little soldier and not have to stress about taking care of everyone else. You'd look gorgeous on your knees with my cock in your mouth. Or fucked nice and slow in those fancy showers upstairs just begging, please," he let his voice drop into a low, teasing moan, breathy and edging close to desperate, "please, Dean."
Something flashed in Michael’s eyes for a moment. It wasn’t from the way they were, it wasn’t flirting as much as it was fucking each other without actually having sex, or how Dean was touching him. It was about Samandriel. It was about hearing Dean talk about Samandriel’s begging. He could almost see the little angel taking Dean in his mouth, working him with all the talent Michael knew he had, but it didn’t inspire any sort of desire from him. It made him angry.
He wasn’t his fiance. He didn’t have a right to feel even remotely possessive when it came to the angel of imagination, and yet Michael felt that there might have been something about snapping Dean’s neck in that moment that was justifiable. That red-orange had turned to blood red and the colors nearly flashed they were moving so fast, and yet somehow Michael remained calm. He cleared his throat, and blinked slowly, doing his best to hide that twitch at his jawline. It more appeared that he was struggling with what Dean was suggesting than it was him trying not to give in to any homicidal urges.
Michael took a slow breath, doing his best to ignore Dean’s needy moan and that wanton tone. As angry as he might have been seconds ago it easily died down nearly entirely when exposed to Dean’s teasing. He leaned his head back so he could see the other man’s face and smirked like he had won something rather than he was attempting to shut the door to what he thought would likely be the only time he was tempted by Dean Winchester. “Go enjoy your shower, Dean. Cold. It might do you some good.”
The whole crux of the issue here was that Dean wanted to make Michael feel as uncomfortable in this space as the man's presence in it made Dean feel. Judging by the way that muscle in his jaw jumped, he'd at least been moderately successful. "You know, come to think of it, the water pressure's better at my place anyway," he said, being completely unsubtle about things. Lucifer and the kid might've been fine with this new addition to their lives and their routine, but Dean needed Michael to earn his place. He was really, really not okay with his past coming back to haunt him like this. He pulled away, giving Michael his back as he walked and put his shirt back on. "Oh and, have fun trying to filter all your little bottom fantasies from the kid when he gets into your head later maybe when you're fucking him extra hard to try to make yourself feel like more of a man."
He pulled his keys out of his pocket, spinning them around his finger to catch them properly. "If you see Lucifer after you're done jacking it, tell him..." Tell him what? That he wasn't cool with this yet. That he didn't want to think about sharing his devil with the archangel? That seeing Michael there felt kinda like a violation even though he was sure he'd probably been told or that someone had meant to tell him. "Tell him I said he might need some more lighter fluid." He turned down the corner towards the door to the garage. Maybe he'd get in the Impala and drive straight home or maybe he'd just drive for a while. He didn't know yet.
It was a nice back. Maybe not as nice as his own but he rarely got the benefit of seeing it himself. Still, it was no wonder he was tempted even if he was aware that Dean was largely fucking with him. He wouldn’t say anything though, wouldn’t give Dean ammunition to use or bait him with, better to just let the man go and hope his brain would be kind enough to lose these particular memories. It was unlikely though, getting upset over someone else laying a hand on Samandriel aside, it had rattled him a little that with a little more pressure Winchester could have made a complete fool out of him.
Perhaps it was living with the angels, where affection could turn to sex in an instant, but he couldn’t help but think it was starting to break him of that control he used to have over himself. He had told himself he hadn’t wanted to be like them, didn’t want to fuck everything that moved, and he didn’t care for the implications of Dean, of all people, getting to him.
He ran his hands over his face then through his hair before dropping them to the counter as he turned, all of this once he was sure Dean wasn’t going to pop back in on him and catch him. He didn’t need to know how truly successful he’d been. “Well fuck me…”