Swap

A temporary witch's curse has the Winchester brothers swapping bodies. It sucks, but they're handling it. As long as they keep their hands to themselves and Dean quit eyeing the damn scissors with that evil gleam in his eye...
Unfortunately for Sam, he discovers something about Dean and Cas. | 13.7K words | Last chapter is really NSFW and is rated RED |

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7. Some smut for y'all...

Swap

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WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

VERY SMUTTY

This chapter is pure smut. So in case you don't want to read anything smutty... Well. You have been warned.

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN RATED RED

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Dean does the most awkwardly adorable twirl in front of Castiel and he hasn't the capacity to not laugh. He manages to stop and blinks innocently when Dean pauses, mid-spin, to glare at him. "Yes, Dean?"

"Don't gimme that innocent angel-face shit," Dean says through a huff, aiming a finger at Cas in warning. "I'm just checking the merchandise, alright? I got no idea what Sammy was doing with this thing," he says, patting his hands down his body. So far, nothing weird beyond some freaky 'man-scaping' Sam hadn't been able to help himself on. At least the plucked moose didn't touch his manly eyebrows... He's annoyed enough with Cas at the moment, he kinda hopes the angel pouts when he sees his chest hair nearly gone. It'll serve the snickering little bastard right.

Castiel eyes Dean, critically and appreciatively. "I see no damage," he says after a brief scrutiny. He steps closer and gently tugs at the hem of Dean's t-shirt, pleased when the other man raises his arms obediently so he can remove it for a more thorough examination. He frowns. "I stand corrected." He reaches out and strokes along Dean's nearly-hairless chest,right down the crease of muscle. Dean isn't overly furred but he'd come to enjoy the smattering of chest hair his hunter has.

Had.

It's gone now and he's suddenly irritated with Sam. He looks down at his wrist to see Dean holding him. He looks up and his frown deepens when he sees the smirk on Dean's face. It's then he realizes he'd been about to leave, maybe to find Sam and give him a few choice words, and he's annoyed all over again. He pulls his hand free and crosses them over his chest. "It's not funny, Dean."

"I think it's a little funny." Dean grins, hoping to get Cas to calm down. He pulls Cas closer, smiling when there's no resistance and Cas is just a hair away from being plastered along his front. He noses along Cas' jaw, up his cheek, until they're practically Eskimo kissing. "It'll grow back," he murmurs, cupping the back of Cas' neck. "C'mon, I'm me again. Let's get physical, Cas," he says, grinning. He doesn't wait for a response and just pulls his unresisting angel in for a kiss. They both moan, like it's been forever and they're kissing hot and dirty in seconds.

Jesus, it's barely been two days...

Castiel pulls away just long enough to stare mournfully at Dean's smooth chest, only slightly mollified that his perky nipples are highlighted a little more now, before getting busy getting Dean's jeans off. He's normally very pleased when they go slow and sweet (not at all surprised Dean is very adept at it when he's of a mood,) but he's anxious to get his hands on Dean. It has been exceedingly frustrating to spend the last 34 hours with him, not being able to touch and love like normal because of the body situation. He understood Dean's hesitance to 'fool around' while in another body, especially that of his brother's, and he had respected his wishes without a second thought. But now there's no reason for him to be held back.

And he doesn't. Sam is gone, researching (though, Castiel is convinced the younger Winchester was very aware of what would happen the moment they switched back and left simply to give them privacy) so there are no other obstacles.

Dean can't help moaning when Cas forcefully strips him, nearly tearing his clothes off like some romance novel cliché. He'd think Cas mojo'd him naked if it weren't for the feeling of hands touching and pulling, sliding and stroking, cupping and grabbing whatever naked skin Cas could get his hands on. Before Cas can push him towards the bed (or maybe the wall if he's feeling especially frisky,) he yanks at Cas' shirt. Sometimes it's flattering as fuck that Cas gets so into him the angel forgets to get naked along with him. Right now though, he's just impatient for them to be naked together.

The need to be skin-on-skin almost makes his hands shake.

He laughs when Cas slaps his hands away with an impatient grunt and just yanks, tearing the fabric and letting it fall to the carpet. Okay, so they're doing the fast and hard. He's shoved, almost harshly, and he's a little disoriented as he lands with a bounce on the mattress. Cas is quick to straddle him and he's being attacked with hands and lips and tongue and teeth.

Which is cool. He goes with it, getting in on the action as soon as he can get his hands out from under Cas' knees. Cas pulls back, looking kinda wild-eyed, hair a complete mess and his face all flushed. God, it's so fucking hot he moans out loud. He scowls when Cas smirks and scoots down his body. He props himself up on his elbows, a second away from cursing Cas out for being a cocky tease, when his jeans are being yanked off.

Oh. Right.

Dean plants his feet and lifts his hips, almost laughing again when Cas yanks and tugs until his jeans slide down his body, taking his underwear along for the ride since neither of them thought to unbutton them first. He huffs out a laugh when Cas just carelessly tosses the whole mess of fabric over his shoulder, eyes wide and intent on his exposed dick as he crawls back up the bed, hands trailing up his legs and thighs.

He's panting a little now, but it's cool because so is Cas. Cas is still only staring though, his hands idly rubbing up and down his thighs as his gaze flicks all over him. Studying and cataloging. He's tempted to get Cas to snap out of his moment, back to the wild monkey-sex, but he's got an idea what's going through Cas' mind right now and he doesn't want to interrupt his angel's thoughts. He doesn't bother trying to stifle the moans as Cas' hands dip lower and fingertips stroke along his inner thigh, brushing along the dusting of hair there, almost tickling.

Castiel hums softly when he feels Dean's legs part automatically for him. He knows they should resume their earlier pace, they're both edging on desperation, but he's inexplicably feeling the need to verify that his Dean is back. He brushes his fingertips along the sensitive spot under Dean's navel, following the trail of hair he adores, smiling when his Hunter's breath catches and he hears a quiet moan. Dean twists with another moan when he does the same thing along his sides, his fingers tracing the contours of ribs and hard muscle, fingertips sensitive to the texture of scar tissue.

"Missed you," he murmurs under his breath, running a hand along Dean's flank, enjoying the way Dean lifts his leg and presses a calf against his hip. He can see Dean's Adam's apple bob and he knows Dean heard him and is trying to think of something to say in return. Probably weighing his options between something endearingly sarcastic or heart-felt. He smiles and continues touching, making sure there aren't any other new developments to surprise him. He tests another sensitive area - the dip right under Dean's hipbones - with his lips, pleased when Dean makes a breathy sound and twitches upwards.

"Me too, Cas," Dean finally mumbles back. Even if it had only been less than 2 days, it had been at least a week since he'd seen Cas before that. It's almost embarrassing how fast he's turned on, completely hard and making soft little noises every time Cas touches, strokes or fondles a part of him. All over. Except his leaking dick, which is laying lonely and abandoned on his stomach.

He goes easily, maybe even a little eagerly, when Cas urges him to roll over and starts the whole thing over again; touching his back, kneading his ass (way too briefly, the teasing little shit) and down his legs. Cas' fingers linger just long enough on the sensitive skin at the backs of his knees to make him kick a foot out. If he weren't ready to fuck a hole in the mattress, he might've wished he'd gotten Cas with a well-placed foot. He might have to start a 'no tickling' rule.

"What the hell are you doin', man?"

Castiel ignores Dean's muffled words, mostly because it's quite obvious what he's doing, and resumes his task, hands following the gentle bow of strong legs. He's not so much checking anymore, but just enjoying touching Dean and seeing the other man's reactions. He brushes his fingers along the back of Dean's knee again and laughs when Dean's leg jerks again, much closer to kicking him this time. He also ignores Dean's muttered 'asshole' and works his way back up. Dean's squirming a little, trying not to and failing, and he figures it's time to stop being a tease. He taps the back of Dean's thigh, grinning when he hears Dean's breath hitch as he bends his knee up, settling it under his chest.

He doesn't dawdle, as Dean is no doubt expecting, and he's stroking a generously lubed finger along the cleft of Dean's ass the moment the other man settles.

"A-fucking-men for mojo," Dean mumbles into his pillow when he feels Cas slip and slide between his ass. He aims a grin over his shoulder when Cas taps at one of his ass cheeks with the pads of all four fingers, probably for being a smart-mouth. If Cas doesn't want him to blaspheme about mojo'd lube, he shouldn't freakin' do it. He settles back down, enjoying the firm wet press of Cas' fingers against (and in) him.

He subtly presses into the sensation of lips on the small of his back, hissing through his teeth with pleasure when it earns him gentle biting kisses and Cas' free hand kneading at his ass cheek. He squirms at the feeling of Cas' stubble rasping against him, so close to arching into Cas' face for more. He groans appreciatively, burying his face into his pillow and clenching the sides in his fists, when Cas doesn't fuck around and gets two fingers in. He doesn't know if it's the fact his body is so accustomed to Cas or if there's some Grace involved but it feels amazing and he's squirming again, wishing Cas would get to it already.

The faint smell of pineapples hits him and Dean groans, burying his face further into his pillow as his hips arch up almost involuntarily. Flavored lube, Cas' favorite no less, means only one thing. His thoughts stutter and finally blank completely when he can feel the light rasp of stubble against his cheeks as Cas finally works a tongue in along his fingers. He should probably roll over, grab at Cas so they could both get something out of this, but he's already too into the toe-curling pleasure as Cas tongues at him, fingers pumping, sliding in and out with a slick, wet sound that's too fucking erotic for his own good.

He presses back against Cas, unable to help himself, as Cas really gets into it; both fingers and mouth working at him while the other hand kneads at his ass or slides along his hip and side, fingernails lightly scraping along his skin in random patterns. He gets a happy little humming moan from Cas for his efforts and he lets himself get into a rhythm. He can only hope Cas is doing something for himself because he's completely useless for anything other than making porno sounds and thrusting against Cas and he's gonna be a fucking puddle by the time Cas is done with him.

Castiel hums softly, enjoying himself and Dean's gasped moans and restless hips. He shifts and settles on the bed, unashamedly rutting against the mattress as he continues. As much as he knows Dean would prefer something more reciprocal (as if he didn't completely enjoy himself getting Dean off), he's happy to stay as they are. Judging by the way Dean's breathing is hitching with gasps and gulps as he tries not to moan too enthusiastically (or loudly) and his hips are eagerly moving in time with his movements, it won't be much longer.

He gathers his Grace, easing it around Dean's steadily leaking erection gently, stroking and squeezing in the way he's learned Dean enjoys most. He nearly grins when Dean makes a glorious sounds of delectation, moaning loudly now as muscles flex gorgeously as he writhes openly, shamelessly, now. He adjusts himself, needing a bit more friction as he continues his ministrations. He's already so close and the rhythmic clenching (and the near constant mumbling of praise and profanity from Dean's mouth) lets him know Dean is as well.

A twitch of Castiel's Grace and his fingers and there's the euphonious orgasm from Dean, body tight and sheened with sweat as he grunts and pants through his pleasure. He'd rather watch it in its entirety but his eyes involuntarily squinch closed as he circles his hips one last time preceding his own orgasm.

Dean flops onto his stomach, leg twitching from where its still crammed under his chest, but he doesn't care. There can't be any bones in there to worry about. He laughs weakly when Cas nuzzles the back of his thigh but he's too puddle-like to push him away from his oversensitive skin or call him a sappy dork. Thankfully, Cas turns his head enough the contact is less prickly and lightly kisses one still twitching thigh. He's vaguely aware of Cas shifting around and gently easing his bent leg to a more natural position.

"Feel better?" he murmurs when he can finally engage his voice in something that's not filthy sex sounds, head flopping to the side to look at Cas. Which he probably shouldn't have done because Cas looks like a completely debauched wet-dream with his hair all wild, cheeks and chest all flushed, and his face all fucked-out and happy. He goes willingly enough when Cas man-handles him and wraps around him like some angelic octopus.

Castiel hums and he settles against Dean's side, tucking his leg carefully between Dean's. "Yes. Much better. Thank you." He's a little surprised Dean asked but he probably shouldn't be; Dean had been just as eager for the 'reconnect' as he. He smiles when Dean snickers and flops weakly in an attempt to get the blankets. He untangles himself from a protesting Dean long enough to work them up and over their cooling bodies.

They both startle when there's a loud banging on the door.

Sam's voice drifts through the wood. "Uh. Guys? I'm gonna, uhm, get my own room. Okay?"

Dean snickers again, burying his face in Cas' neck so Sam doesn't hear him. Normally, he'd openly laugh at his little brother but he doesn't want to piss on Sam's gesture. He clears his throat and lifts his head up enough to be heard so he doesn't have to move. "Awesome! Thanks, Sammy!"

Sam stomps off, muttering under his breath but smiling a little bit too. He's hoping there's a vacant room as far away from Dean's as possible. He forgot how loud his brother can be.

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