Castiel discovers Destiel fanfiction and believes the writers are correct. Now he must convince Dean. | Meta | 12K words |


9. Chapter nine


Chapter nine


Castiel appeared in Dean's room that night, after he'd had some time to think about how he was going to talk about this with Dean without dying of shame and embarrassment.

Dean was waiting for him on the bed. After a briefing with Sam, he knew a little bit of what to expect, but his brother had turned red when he asked for details and refused to give him any more information, aside from it being a 'fanfiction' thing. Dean was kind of worried about that, and let his mind wander to the worst scenarios he could think of. That wat, he'd probably be relieved when Castiel finally confessed to whatever was bugging him.

"C'mere," he said to Castiel, and patted a space on the bed next to him. Castiel obeyed and sat next to Dean, stiffly at first until Dean wrapped him in his arms, pressing Castiel's back up against his chest, and ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it and tugging it gently. Castiel's eyes fluttered shut from the soft, intimate touch.

"You know I love you, right?" Dean murmured into his ear.

"Yes. I remember."

"Then you know you can tell me anything. If we have a problem, we can fix it together, right?"

"Yes. I'm sorry if I have caused you trouble."

"No worries. Just tell me what's bothering you."

"It's... really quite stupid," Castiel said, glad he wasn't looking at Dean so he wouldn't have to meet his eyes.

"Then it'll be easy to fix. C'mon babe, spill it," Dean urged gently.

"It's about all those stories I read, about us. I don't know if I can compare."

Dean frowned at the memory of the Destiel fanfiction. Though it had brought them together, the thought of weird young women writing about his love life, in freakish detail, would always disturb him. Especially with some of the weird kinks they got into.

"Cas," Dean whispered, right into Castiel's ear. "You will never compare to those stories."

Castiel's face fell, and he drew deeper into himself.

"You will never compare to those stories, because you are better than any piece of fiction ever written. You're alive, and warm, and you're all mine. Those stupid stories could never measure up to what you're capable of."

Castiel turned around to face Dean. "How can you be so sure? What if I'm terrible?"

"Seriously, Cas? Nothing you do is terrible. Why would sex be any different?"

Castiel made a low, keening sound in his throat, and then pressed his lips to Dean's and after another moment, pushed Dean down against the bed, his kisses quickly becoming hotter and hungrier. Dean was so not about to complain.

Dean rolled them over and over on the bed, tugging at various pieces of clothing, his and Castiel's, and fending off kisses so he could think straight long enough to figure out his damn belt buckle. Buttons were ripped off, and there was the sound of ripping cloth, but Dean wasn't sure who's clothes it was, and he didn't care, as the last shred of it fluttered to the floor and he had Castiel naked in his bed, flushed and aroused, and finally eager for Dean. All the way.

"Cas, you are so gorgeous," Dean said huskily, and smiled as Castiel flushed and shook beneath him, a jumble of nerves and excitement.

"I'm sorry I made you wait," Castiel said, and Dean brushed off the apology with a quick press of lips to quiet him.

"Don't worry. We'll make up the lost time."

Dean struggled to keep his movements slow and careful, simultaneously wanting to savor the moment, and also wanting to get to it quickly, after such an agonizing wait. But he too his time, leery of scaring off his skittish boyfriend again if he went to fast.

Tentatively, Dean reached between Castiel's legs, his fingers wet with lube, and pressed between his cheeks, fingering the tight bud gently. Castiel bucked beneath him, his body going tight, and the breath gusting out past his lips. He looked up to Dean with wide eyes, biting his bottom lip, but he nodded. Encouraged Dean to continue.

Dean stretched Castiel carefully, savoring the looks that flitted across Castiel's face as he was stretched and probed deep inside, leaned in to listen to the soft cries and wails of pleasure that breached his lips. And as hot and hungry as Castiel was getting from Dean's fingers, Dean felt the same, feeling his tight clench, knowing what would soon be his.

"Dean, please," Castiel whispered, canting his hips up, his body knowing what to ask for, even if he couldn't find the words.

Dean nodded, smeared more lubricant on himself, and nudged gently between Castiel's legs, rubbing the tip against the loosened hole before pushing in slowly. They gasped together, eyes locked tight as Dean sank in deeper, finding Castiel tight and hot.

A steady rhythm started, one that Dean knew well from experience, and Castiel followed on instinct, letting his hips roll against Dean's, surging against him to find the right angle and crying out each time they hit it perfectly.

As they neared the peak, they moved faster, more frantic, Castiel clutching at Dean's shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist, trying to hold onto something as he was pushed higher and higher, closer and closer to his pleasure, a sort of tight, condensed heat that he had come close to before, but wasn't the same, not now with Dean so deep inside him, and with his pleasure so dependent on the movement of the other man.

Castiel reached his orgasm with a low, rumbling moan, which gave way to another, higher, surprised sound as Dean spilled inside him, a sensation he hadn't considered much before, but that added an extra surge of sensation and pleasure. He clung to Dean, dizzy, hot, with his kin thrumming and sensitive. Every little shift Dean made, forced him to twitch, overwhelmed. Dean caught those twitches, those shakes and jerks, and smiled down at his lover, looking pleased with himself.

"You feeling okay, babe?" he asked gently, his voice rough from his earlier grunts and groans.

"Yeah," Castiel let out on a breathy sigh.

"Are you sore at all?" Dean asked, and pulled out gently, watching his semen leaking from between Castiel's cheeks, pleased from the sight of it, like the mark of a job well done.

"No. You can't hurt me, Dean."

"Good. You feeling okay too? Now that you're not even technically a virgin anymore?"

"I feel okay," Castiel said, with a little blush. "I feel silly for my earlier concerns."

"Ah yes, so, how do I compare to fanfiction Dean?"

Castiel was quiet for a moment, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he considered the perfect words. "While those women have a good grasp of our emotions and perceived diaglogue, I must say, that their ability to describe the true sensation of sexual intercourse with you is incredibly lacking."

"Why, I think that's the nicest way anyone's ever said I'm a good lay."

"You were amazing. Wonderful. Delightful. Perfect," Castiel went on, showering Dean with small kisses for each word.

"Perfect? Not yet. But I'm willing to practice a lot more until we get there."

"I would like that very much."

Dean tumbled Castiel a few more times, just to make doubly sure that his boyfriend was not a virgin anymore. And before nodding off, he exacted a very binding promise from Castiel that there would never be anymore Destiel fanfiction in their lives ever again. Castiel agreed, because why would he need fanfiction anymore when he could finally act out his very own Destiel fantasies?

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