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Prompt: omg talk about dean giving cas his first blowjob please
Of course we all know that it takes them for-freaking-ever to get their heads out of their asses and finally kiss. When it happens at last, it’s not in the heat of the moment, not in the middle of an argument, not in the flush of battle. It’s in the kitchen, actually. Dean’s washing dishes after dinner and Castiel wanders in. He sidles up to Dean’s side at the sink, stands too close as usual. He’s got some question about the movie they’d watched earlier. The substance of this question is lost to the ages, though, because just as he draws in a breath to speak, Dean turns his head to listen and their mouths are rightthere, just thatclose and something in Dean’s brain says “fuck it” and he leans in.
The kiss is soft, tentative at first, tinged with shock. They both recover from their surprise at roughly the same time, though. What starts out as a chaste meeting of lips becomes a tangle of tongues and hot breath. Their bodies turn fully towards each other and press tightly together. The dishes do not get finished until the next morning.
They do a lot of kissing the next few days. Like, a lot a lot. They kiss over breakfast. They kiss in the car while Sam runs into the store for beer. They kiss by the washing machine while they wait for the spin cycle to end. They kiss in bed at night, half-naked and pressed together, rutting up against each other or pushing into each other’s hot hands. They learn the feel of their bodies, skin on skin, cock against cock.
Eventually, though, Dean needs to taste. He needs to get his mouth on his angel, find out if the rest of him is as tangy-sweet as his tongue is.
Castiel has an encyclopedic knowledge of sex in theory, but he’s a little tentative in practice, letting Dean take the lead most of the time. When Dean starts moving on the bed, kissing down Cas’s body, running his tongue along Cas’s ribs and down his happy trail, the angel is clearly a bit overwhelmed. His hands move erratically, pushing through Dean’s hair, then flying up to his own face, then dropping limply at his sides.
Dean, meanwhile, has reached his target. He pulls Cas’s boxers off efficiently and tosses them over his shoulder, running his tongue up the shaft of his lover’s cock at the same time. Castiel’s reaction is gratifying – the punched-out noise he makes (”Dean!!!”) and the way his whole body folds almost in half let Dean know that his technique is more than acceptable. He drops a couple soothing kisses on a hipbone and then dives back in, running his tongue up again and suckling gently on the head.
Dean keeps his mouth soft and wet, never sucks too hard. He’s not showing off or trying to make Cas’s head explode. After his initial jolt of surprise at the sensation, Castiel relaxes into it. The pleasure washes over him in deep, gentle waves. The warmth of his lover’s tongue against him is achingly good. His orgasm builds like a slow tide. When he comes, he sighs, “oh Dean, yes” while Dean swallows him down.
Afterwards, the angel feels like he’s melted into the mattress. Dean pushes his body back up until they’re face to face and they kiss deeply, sharing Castiel’s taste between them.
“Do you want me to… I can–” he tries to muster up the energy to reciprocate, tries to move himself down but his muscles are slow to respond.
“Next time,” Dean murmurs, kissing him once more and gathering him into his arms. “Let’s take a nap now.”