[миссис Норрис]

Apparently I can't just shut up!


Destiel by ~hermitic on deviantART


The Man-Tear by ~hermitic on deviantART

But I'll try, I promise!

@темы: Supernatural, Castiel

Comments

[Leona]

Продолжайте, продолжайте, я слушаю.

[миссис Норрис]

Leona

[Близнечный Миф]

первая такая. нежная

[миссис Норрис]

Ага!

[Kidissimo]

;___; по ним еще драбблы есть *хлюпает носом*

Finding a moment for themselves is nearly impossible in this world of death and mayhem, where the Earth is ruled by demons and a devil wearing Dean’s brother like a well-fitting glove. There’s too much at stake and too little time and Dean is filled with too much anger and Cas with too many drugs, and they miss each other again and again, but today, now, they have time, and they’re careful not to waste it.
Dean’s cabin is empty and Cas comes to him, for once not reeking of booze and his eyes a clear, shining blue instead of clouded and dark.
“Dean,” he nods, holding himself awkwardly, and Dean wants to smile at how he looks just like his old self standing uncomfortably in Dean’s doorway, but he’s too exhausted to do anything but wave a hand, summoning Cas over. It takes three strides to get across the room before Cas is pressing him into the wall, lips slamming into Dean’s. His tongue tastes like toothpaste instead of absinthe, and Dean’s mouth falls open in surprise. Cas hums against him, slipping his tongue in further, and they stand there, kissing against the wall for a while, until Dean’s hands slip underneath the waist of Cas’ jeans and he tugs, sliding away from the wall to walk back towards his bed.
Cas follows, always obedient, and they both tug their shirts off as they stumble into the bedroom, lips pulling apart and meeting again every few steps. They fall onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, kicking off their shoes as they scramble to tug down their pants. Dean reaches for the lube in the bedside table while Cas gets the last leg of his jeans off, adding it to the pool of clothes on the floor. He kisses up Dean’s thigh while Dean pushes at his shoulders impatiently, shoving the lube into his hands.
They don’t bother with foreplay because they know they don’t have time to spare.
Cas slicks up his cock and slides into Dean after working him open quickly, spreading Dean’s legs and holding them open with his arms. Dean grunts at the roughness of Cas’ thrusts, careful but needy and desperate, hips slapping against his ass loudly. Cas presses open-mouthed kisses all over his chest and up his neck, murmuring things they never tell each other anymore between each one.
You’re strong.
I have faith in you.
You’ll save the world.
I’ll always fight for you.
I love you, Dean.
I always will.
Dean thinks about the way things used to be. When Sam was still around, when Cas still didn’t know how to use a cellphone, when Bobby was the brains of the operation, and he could just be the muscle, pushing everyone out of the way and rushing in with a magazine of bullets and a give ‘em hell attitude. When no one relied on him they way they do now. When he believed he could do anything if he just had Sam to fight for.
Cas stops suddenly and Dean opens his eyes to see Cas staring at him, concerned and wary.
“Why’d you stop?” he asks, surprised at how rough his voice comes out. Cas reaches up a hand and wipes at his face, smearing tears against his face that he didn’t even know were there.
“Dean, I’m sorry,” Cas says, and the tears start for real. Dean turns his head and glares at the wall, trying to will them away, but his throat is tightening and his vision is blurring and it’s all too much, it was always too much. He doesn’t understand why anyone trusts him, why anyone believes in him, why Cas is still here with him, telling him that he has faith when Dean has been running on empty for years, ready to die every time he steps out of camp.
“Cas, why—” he starts to ask, but he stops, bringing a hand up to press over his eyes, because he doesn’t even know what answer he’s looking for.
Why did you stay when the rest of Heaven vanished?
Why do you keep fighting for me?
How do you still have faith in anything, let alone me, after everything I’ve let happen?
The unspoken questions hang in the air, heavy with guilt and self-hatred. Cas lets out a shaky breath and thrusts forward slow, rocking Dean’s entire body against the old, creaky mattress, and Dean’s hand digs into Cas’ thigh. He sucks in a breath, cock hard and aching against his belly, when Cas does it again.
“God chose you, Dean,” Cas whispers, hand dropping Dean’s leg to slide up his neck, “Our Father left the fate of the world in your hands. It’s a burden too heavy for one man to bear, and I can’t—won’t abandon you to the weight of it and watch it crush you.”
A few hours from now, Dean will be back to talking strategy with his teams, focused on nothing but finding the Devil, burying his grief with work, and Cas will be back to drowning in drugs and alcohol, filling his emptiness with an endless high. But right now, in this moment, skin against skin and lips held together, they can revel in each other for comfort, forgetting the world to remember that once, before they failed their families and let Earth fall apart, Dean and Cas were in love.
And maybe they still are, when it doesn’t cost them the world.

[миссис Норрис]

misha-bawlins
ОМГ!
Офигенно просто *сидит и ревет*

[Kidissimo]

миссис Норрис это homoerotics пишет

[миссис Норрис]

misha-bawlins
Запаслась носовыми платками и пошла читать остальное