Harder to Breathe {Dean}

[kthehuman]

(OOC: This is a dragonlust thread. Fassa and I will be putting a link in to the "inappropriate" things later. This thread should be safe for all to read.)

Seraphim was cooing in Castiel's ear and pawing at his face. He groaned and rolled away from her, batting ineffectively in her direction. He misjudged his placement on the bed though, and fell with a loud thump onto the floor. He groaned again and rolled onto his back. Seraphim was looking at him with concern from the edge of the bed. "Thank you for waking me, Seraphim," he said groggily. He got up slowly, and stretched, reaching toward the ceiling as far as he could. He may not have had the physical pain of joints being stiff, but he had never experienced the pleasure of relief, either. Perhaps it was worth the discomfort for that relief.

Sighing contentedly, he turned again to Seraphim, scratching behind her eyeridges. "I think it's time for breakfast." She purred, her eyes and head started to droop. "Perhaps you should sleep until it arrives." She cooed softly, and he picked her up to place her on his extra pillow. She purred again, and curled up around herself. He then went to the chute by the table, cleared his throat, and called down for breakfast for two humans, with a bit of meat strips for the fire lizards. Dean was coming to look over some more scrolls that he had picked up yesterday from the archives.

Speaking of Dean, Castiel thought he should make himself presentable - he currently had no clothes on. He had recently discovered the wonderful, silky feeling of sleeping nude, and had not stopped sleeping as such since the discovery. Honestly, he wasn't sure why Dean and Sam slept with clothing on. At the very least, Dean should like sleeping nude; he has a fixation on physical pleasures, which would seem to coincide with sleeping without clothing. Castiel realized that he was thinking about Dean being naked, and didn't think that he would approve. So he pushed those morning thoughts aside and moved to the dresser. He pulled out some simple, loose linens to throw on for comfort: a gray-blue shirt and gray pants. He had just gotten the pants on when there was a knock at the door. Seraphim lifted her head, instantly on alert for danger.

"Just a moment," he called, his voice still gravelly with sleep. He left the shirt on the dresser and went to answer the door. He unlocked the bolt and opened the door to reveal Dean and Robin. "Hello, Dean," he looked down at his shirtless abdomen. "Uh- sorry, I just woke a few minutes ago. Come in," he said as he turned, leaving the door open, to the walk back to the dresser. Recognizing the two that entered, Seraphim had chirped in greeting and laid her head back down, sleepy eyes still on them. Castiel started putting it on, still facing away from Dean, while he said, "I just called down for breakfast; it should arrive shortly." Sufficiently dressed in the overly-large, second-hand shirt from the weyrfolk, he turned back to Dean. "I don't know about you, but I would like some klah before we begin."

[fassa]

“Well this is uh,” Dean trailed off after a brief moment of surprise when Castiel answered the door, snapping his head up but his eyes kept drifting down. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t expecting that the angel being naked by relative standards would have stunned him as much as it actually did.

He cleared his throat. Croaked, “Hey Cas.”

And cleared it again as he looked away to the far side of the room and stepped in, closing the door behind.

Robin sought out his sister. It had been an exhausting morning of flying by Dean as he did his morning run. Maybe Seraphim would allow him to sleep by her side. Though he didn’t like how passive she could be, her placidity and calming presence was what he could enjoy right now. Plus she was nice to cosy up to. He settled next to her, dropping his weary head down.

“I didn’t know they did room service,” Dean said, eyes downcast and fingers sliding some of the loose-leafed papers on Castiel’s desk. He had planned to ask Castiel if he’d like to join him in the kitchen for breakfast first before they started on their reading, but this was better. Saved him a walk there and back when he really just wanted to sit and relax.

“Hell yeah, klah would be great.”

Nevermind that he had one earlier before he went for his run, another should give him that extra kick.

He had only discovered its existence when he was in the kitchen a few days ago and thought he smelled coffee. He thought he had finally lost it and was dreaming up that aromatic scent, but he followed his nose anyway and found someone brewing a pot for the others and offered him a cup. That sweet, sweet note of cinnamon and chocolate was heaven - basically, hipster coffee he never would have tried from his world otherwise, often ordering his usual staple of Americano at diners and cafes.

But hey, he wasn’t about to complain. At least there was coffee here to help with his caffeine addiction.

Dean pulled out a chair to sit on, straightening his legs under the table, and placed his hands, palms together, on the desk over the pile of papers. He tilted his chin up and looking expectantly at Castiel, eyes canvassing his body and smile absently tugging the corner of his lips - Castiel looked ridiculous in the oversized shirt, but it was kind of... adorable.

A series of door knocks broke his attention and he looked to the door; it must be the breakfast Castiel had mentioned. Good, because he was starving.

“You getting that, Cas?” he asked lazily from his chair.

[kthehuman]

Castiel thought that Dean's greeting sounded odd, but it was more than likely that he hadn't talked much this morning. He had found that not using one's voice caused humans to have difficulty when they tried to speak. Nonetheless, it went away when he mentioned something about...room service? Seraphim yawned, nuzzling into her brother's warm body; she was glad that he wasn't trying to make her get up and play - for once.

Castiel tilted his head, leaning against the dresser as he watched Dean play with some of his notes from the previous night. Dean had spoken again, looking up at him, making him feel self-conscious when he smiled. Castiel finally processed what he said, though, and asked, "You don't know about...the chute?" But then there was a knock at the door. He looked back and forth between Dean and the door, confused. Finally, after several moments, he walked slowly toward the door. Opening it, he found that it was, indeed, their breakfast!

"Hello, dear!" the woman carrying the large tray said. "Looks like there's some trouble with the lift to your room. We'll get that fixed in a jiffy, though, so don't you fret!" She was smiling very brightly - especially considering how early it was.

Castiel took the tray from her, thanking her. "And, when it is fixed, could you send up a pitcher of klah? We've got some work to do, and I believe we will be in need of it." She nodded, still smiling, and he thanked her again as he closed the door. Walking to the table, he gestured to the papers with his head. "Could you...?" Dean sensed what he meant and started shuffling the papers to the side to make room for the tray. After setting the tray down, he gathered up all the papers to move to the dresser.

As he did this, he explained, "Every living area has a chute," he gestured with his chin toward the one behind Dean, "which leads directly to the kitchens. If you call down that to tell them the amount of meals you'll be needing - or klah, if that's what you want - then they send it up after a short while on a lift." He was walking back from the dresser at this point, and put Dean's plate of meatrolls, biscuits and green-gray gravy in front of him, placing his own dish in his table area. "Then when you're done, you can send the dishes down to be cleaned. It is very convenient. Did you not know of this before?" he said as he sat down opposite of Dean, head tilted and brows furrowed. He noticed now that Dean's skin had a slight sheen to it, as if he had been sweating. Whether it was from physical activity or the heat, Castiel was unsure. Whatever it was, noticing it seemed to cause a small knot of tension to settle just below his stomach. He ignored it, and began eating.

[fassa]

“Are you kidding me?” Dean said with a numbed expression. All this while he could have had food delivered to his room - in a chute? That thing he mistook for some kind of fancy mail delivery system or a boring air vent.

He briefly wondered how long it would take before they kicked him out for abusing the food chute, then continued on sullenly, picking up his meat roll, “No one told me anything about chutes.”

They ate in silence, if silence was the sound of chewing and the sound of activity beyond the room - that idle foot Dean has tapping away to a tune he wished he could listen to again. He had dipped into the bathing pools before coming over but his skin was starting to feel like heated again. It could be the leftover adrenaline from his run, but it had never felt like Louisiana summer in here before.

Castiel seemed to have taken an interest to the table surface and Dean would have attempted conversation if he weren’t distracted first by his rhythmic chewing, then by his thick, long lashes that stood out more when he looked down - how many times had he always noticed this though - recalled that first time when Castiel aggressively pushed him up the wall and pressed his forearm into his chest so hard it squeezed the air out of his lungs and he couldn’t breathe but the angel had leaned in so closed he could see every individual lash and the cold burn of his blue eyes-

Castiel looked up from the table.

- fuck.

This wasn’t what he wanted to be thinking about - he panicked and swallowed a little too quickly, forcing himself to pretend he wasn’t staring. He looked at his food, and up again to meet his eyes. He should say something, noting that the comfortable silence had turned to something more charged and tensed. He could see the flush on Castiel's cheek and feel his own had already settled in.

Licking his lips, he shifted in his seat when he heard scraping from the chute, and allowed himself to be conveniently saved by klah.

“I’ll- uh- get that,” he said hastily and stood up, nearly tripping over himself on the way to the chute to pick up the mugs and send the lift back down. That was when he noticed he had a problem that might require him to awkwardly position himself away from Castiel when he placed one of the mugs next to Castiel’s plate.

He returned to his seat just as quickly, adjusting himself on his chair a few times, painfully conscious of himself as he sipped his klah and scalded his tongue and the roof of his mouth.

“Fu-” he spat, spilling klah on himself. Gritted, “Goddammit” as he put his mug down with a thud on the table.

And today had been going so well too, what was wrong with him.

He looked down where the klah had stained his shirt, hands pulling the shirt forward to get a better view. “Dammit,” he muttered again, feeling his face getting hotter, thinking he should go, he should really go now before he embarrassed himself further.

[kthehuman]

Castiel felt an incredible heat. He was unsure of where it came from, but it was intense. He ate in silence, trying to figure out why he would be so hot. Is this a normal thing for humans that he hadn't noticed before? He tried to keep his eyes on the table, but they kept straying to Dean. Eventually, he ended up just staring at Dean - he couldn't tear his eyes away. He studied everything from the way his eyes darted around, trying not to look at him, to the way his tongue flicked out over his lips. At this point, Castiel felt a good deal of heat and stiffness form in his groin. This embarrassed him, as he knew this was only acceptable in situations where two or more humans were about to participate in some form of sexual activity; Dean's sexual history being a numerous amount of women, Castiel was unsure of how he would react.

When the klah came, Castiel eyes widened. Surely he couldn't stand up - but Dean saved him the worry, and got up to get it himself. When he turned around, Castiel's heart nearly doubled in pace. His eyes focused in on the way his pants accented the gentle curve of Dean's ass. Everything seemed to get brighter, sharper, and Castiel was sure his pupils were dilated. He swallowed hard, trying to contain himself as his eyes scoured Dean's body. He had done this so many times, but never had it affected him in such a way; that intense heat only seemed to get hotter the longer he looked at Dean. Then Castiel noticed that Dean's pants were oddly bunched up at his pelvis. Upon further inspection, Castiel realized that he was in fact looking at Dean's erection through his pants. The realization of this caused him to lean forward slightly, toes curling as a rush of pleasing anticipation rippled through him. He found that he was breathing in quick, shallow breaths.

Dean spilled klah on himself, and Castiel started. When he said, "Dean," his voice was urgent and nearly ragged. "A-are you-" he had reached across the table to touch Dean's hand.

At the contact, the heat turned into fire, running from his fingertips to his spine and through the rest of his body. He stood up partway, grabbing Dean by the shirt. He pulled him up as well, forcefully leading Dean to meet him. Dean pulled back slightly, but with the force Castiel used was brought forward anyway, and Dean had to catch himself on the table. "Cas wha-" he said before Castiel closed the gap between them. Their noses brushed before Castiel's lips were on Dean's, kissing softly, but fervently. A low moan escaped from the back of his throat, resonating through his chest.

[fassa]

Fingers pressed to the surface of the desk, ends digging into the wood, for a hazy state of mind Dean was painfully aware of every sensation that was happening. He was stunned at first, caught off-guard and the momentum of the pull meant he had to brace himself against the table with both hands. He could hear the pound of his heart, feel the sweat on his brow and where the shirt was sticking to lower abs, the taste the fire in his lips - of klah and whatever the hell Castiel tasted like.

The sparked realisation of Castiel kissing - chastely, which for some reason amused him, but still! Kissing! - him from across the table, a fist on the collar of his shirt.

Fuck.

Liplocked, Dean didn’t need much coaxing to go into auto pilot. Without breaking the kiss, he brushed the contents of the table aside, put a knee up onto the table and climbed onto it, heard the clang of a mug - possibly his - onto the floor. He sat close to the edge of the table, with his legs on both sides of Castiel, inching himself as close to Castiel as he could - hoping aside the table would hold.

Hands raised to cup Castiel's face, he kissed back with equal fervour, legs now wrapping around the slimmer body. His nasal breathing was too erratic for enough air-

Couldn't breathe -

- so he pulled away from Castiel, firm hands on his shoulders to counter any wanton resistance - thought offhandedly there was too much fucking drool stretching between them when they parted. Their chests were heaving, hearts beating ten times faster, but Dean knew how this went - he’d been here before and they’ve had barely even begun. It was like high school all over again - an afterschool special in an empty classroom, hormones on overdrive and damn how much he needed this.

Needed Cas.

He was certain his needs mirrored Castiel's - it was shamefully cheesy but he could see it in his eyes, pupils dilated in blue irises, mouth partly opened. Dean was painfully aware of his own erection pressing against the other.

Dean swallowed, distracted by glazed lips, thumbs slowly stroking the scruff on Castiel’s jawline, legs pulling him in tighter, dropping a hand down to release Castiel's hold on his shirt, directed it instead to the side of his hip.

Nothing made sense. He had come here as usual to do usual things, but all that was on his mind right now was far from that. Couldn't focus with blood rushing to his dick instead of his head. And now he was sitting like one of those librarian girls he had seen in some porno, legs wrapped around some person, sans thick frames, knee-high boots and half-opened blouse. His fucking legs around Castiel, ready to go.

Dean raised his arms to tear his shirt off, tossing it aside, thankful to lose the damp stickiness where the klah-stained spot was sticking to his skin; unfortunately he was starting to have the same feeling in another region. He lowered his head, leaning forward to catch Castiel's lips, hands back to cupping his face, and slipping in a tongue to find his, kissing him a lot harder than they were before, less sweet, less proper - or more, subjected to perspective.