[FIC] IDEK, thigh holsters?
Oct. 2nd, 2009 03:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thisfishfliesTitle: omg, this just started as thigh holster porn, idek
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thisfishflies
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, PWP, fluff
Spoilers: 5.04
Word Count: 1,400
Warnings: None
Summary: THIGH HOLSTER. And then sex.
The thigh holster is new. Dean has never had a love for holsters, as they are hard to rip off and ditch if it's needed. Much easier to just pull the gun and toss it. But, well, things were different now, weren't they? For once he was not on the run from the FBI and every police officer that he met. He was not trying to sneak away in the dark.
Dean was going in, guns blazing, and killing as many zombie-Croats as he can, opening the way for the small group that trailed behind him. He was- as Cas jokingly called him- the fearless leader. Now he had to carry as many guns as he could and 'stuffed down his pants' just didn't cut it any more.
The shoulder holster was not a good fit. It felt constrictive and that was not something you wanted to feel when running from diseased monsters and all.
The hip holster was a classic, but still not Dean's favorite.
When Dean got his hands on this thigh holster, he was in love. It placed his gun perfectly in reach and did not hamper his movement at all.
It was a great fit, with one downside- getting it off was a bitch. Changing took a bit longer, and he sometimes got tangled in his own pants (not that he would ever admit it to anyone).
But after a long day of running and jumping and being the figure head of the “let's not die as monsters, okay guys?” resistance, it was all he could do to collapse onto his cot: taking off his shoes was too much.
After finding Dean fully dressed, almost passed out, Cas knew something had to be done. This was not the best image for a leader to have. And he knew he would be the one that had to do something.
The next time Dean came back looking downtrodden and burnt-out, Cas stopped him before he did his customary face-plant into his bed.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he murmurs, his hand resting over Dean's shoulder.
Dean shrugs into his hand. “Like you can talk, how much have you had to drink today?” He snaps.
“Quiet." Castiel replies, his voice almost haveing the same commanding tone it did when he was an angel. "This is not about me. If you continue to run yourself to the ground every day you will lose respect. And you are still the only hope we have.”
“Cas, how can you still say that? Or are you drunk again?” Dean shakes his head, not looking at Cas.
Castiel does not say anything in response, because he has had a bit too much to drink. But it is not that much different from other days. His tolerance to alcohol has slowly grown and he doesn't really notice how much he drinks as the days pass. He also likes to pretend he doesn't notice the looks Chuck give him.
This is not about him. Castiel has to remember that. This is about Dean, and he should remind him of that. Castiel pushes Dean back and onto his bed. His hand travels down his leg as he kneels in front of Dean.
“Relax Dean,” Cas breathes. “You need to relax.”
Slowly, gently, he removes Dean's boots, undoing the laces carefully instead of just pulling them off as Dean is wont to do. He takes the socks off next, trailing his fingers across the arches of his feet. His feet are warm and Cas can't help but to rub his instep, digging his fingers until Dean curls his toes and twitches and almost kicks him.
Cas laughs, lightly fondling Dean's ankles before allowing his hands to glide up the jean-clad calves and slide to the holster. “I know how much trouble you have with this sometimes. You could use a little help.”
Dean's eyes are darker, but that might just be the lighting. Cas doesn't think so. He follows the strap up the inseam and lightly picks at it, scraping his nails across it. He reaches Dean's growing hardness and smiles. “The holster must make that a bit uncomfortable, huh?” he asks, not even bothering to start to take it off.
“A bit,” Dean agrees, grunting. “And you're not helping matters.”
“Oh, and we know all about how helpful I am nowadays,” Cas replies, a touch of bitterness escaping his lips. He then brushed that thought away when he passes his hand across Dean's zipper, pressing down with the heel of his hand. While one hand works at opening the jeans, the other plays at the holster, a finger slipping under and tugging, pulling the pants tight for a second. Then they are opened and Cas wrenches them down as far as they will before being stopped.
Cas draws Dean out from his boxers and his cock is already wet. It practically jumps into his hand.
“Eager?” Cas asks. “I thought you were tired.”
“Are you- are you teasing me, Cas?” Dean demands, sputtering.
“Of course not. I'm just helping you get undressed. So you will sleep well and look... presentable tomorrow.”
“I'd have to fall asleep for that to happen. Not all that tired right now,” Dean punctuates by thrusting into Cas's hand. It gets his point across, clear enough.
“Let's see what I can do,” Cas almost growls, as he finally- finally- pulls off the thigh holster. He carefully sets it on the ground, just under the edge of the bed before he tugs Dean's jeans fully off, and drops them to the floor. He tosses the boxers next, then just stares. Half on the bed and half dressed, Dean is just the picture of debauched. And Cas had hardly done anything yet.
Castiel climbs up him, there is no other word for it. He pushes at Deans jacket and undoes the buttons on his shirt. Dean takes some initiative and pulls it off, not noticing the one button still fastened. It flies off but neither of them care.
“You have too many clothes on,” Dean pants as Castiel grinds down, pressing them together from chest to hip.
“Seeing as how I can remove my own clothing,” Cas smiles down at Dean as he backs off. Dean scoots fully onto the bed, watching as Cas quickly removes his clothing. He crawls back over Dean and kisses him, hard. Dean pretends not to taste the whiskey.
The cabin is cold, but Dean cannot feel it. Cas radiates heat and it all seems to be focused on him. He latches on to Dean's shoulder and bites his way up the cords of his neck. Dean doesn't even notice Castiel's fumbling until he pulls back and suddenly has a half empty tube of lube in his hand. He's popped it open with his teeth and a shark-ish grin. He slicks up his fingers, but does not look to where Dean has let his legs fall apart. Cas reaches behind to fuck himself open on his own fingers, using his other hand to pin Dean to the bed, nails digging into the ever-present hand print.
Dean watches Cas's face and would swear he sees his grace as he writhes on his own fingers. When he pulls out, he slicks Dean up with a few short pumps before sliding up and sitting back on him until Dean is fully buried. Cas wastes no time, pressing Dean even further into the sheets and raising himself only to slowly fall back down. His thighs shudder with the effort, but Dean's not going to last too long. Cas is quickly coming undone himself.
Thrusting up, Dean cants his hips slightly and a hoarse moan is dragged from deep in Cas's throat. Cas places both hands on Dean's chest to steady himself and just rides him, moving quicker. He stutters to a halt and slumps forward, coming across Dean stomach. His eyes flutter closed and Dean is transfixed. His own orgasm seems to sneak out of him, pulled by Castiel's magnetic force.
Cas's head falls forward to rest in the crook of his neck, breath warm as he pants into his ear. Dean shifts until Cas is next to him. He wipes them both off before collapsing back in to his pillow. Cas just curls into him.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he sighs before drifting away into sleep.
Author:
thisfishfliesRating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Castiel, PWP, fluff
Spoilers: 5.04
Word Count: 1,400
Warnings: None
Summary: THIGH HOLSTER. And then sex.
The thigh holster is new. Dean has never had a love for holsters, as they are hard to rip off and ditch if it's needed. Much easier to just pull the gun and toss it. But, well, things were different now, weren't they? For once he was not on the run from the FBI and every police officer that he met. He was not trying to sneak away in the dark.
Dean was going in, guns blazing, and killing as many zombie-Croats as he can, opening the way for the small group that trailed behind him. He was- as Cas jokingly called him- the fearless leader. Now he had to carry as many guns as he could and 'stuffed down his pants' just didn't cut it any more.
The shoulder holster was not a good fit. It felt constrictive and that was not something you wanted to feel when running from diseased monsters and all.
The hip holster was a classic, but still not Dean's favorite.
When Dean got his hands on this thigh holster, he was in love. It placed his gun perfectly in reach and did not hamper his movement at all.
It was a great fit, with one downside- getting it off was a bitch. Changing took a bit longer, and he sometimes got tangled in his own pants (not that he would ever admit it to anyone).
But after a long day of running and jumping and being the figure head of the “let's not die as monsters, okay guys?” resistance, it was all he could do to collapse onto his cot: taking off his shoes was too much.
After finding Dean fully dressed, almost passed out, Cas knew something had to be done. This was not the best image for a leader to have. And he knew he would be the one that had to do something.
The next time Dean came back looking downtrodden and burnt-out, Cas stopped him before he did his customary face-plant into his bed.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he murmurs, his hand resting over Dean's shoulder.
Dean shrugs into his hand. “Like you can talk, how much have you had to drink today?” He snaps.
“Quiet." Castiel replies, his voice almost haveing the same commanding tone it did when he was an angel. "This is not about me. If you continue to run yourself to the ground every day you will lose respect. And you are still the only hope we have.”
“Cas, how can you still say that? Or are you drunk again?” Dean shakes his head, not looking at Cas.
Castiel does not say anything in response, because he has had a bit too much to drink. But it is not that much different from other days. His tolerance to alcohol has slowly grown and he doesn't really notice how much he drinks as the days pass. He also likes to pretend he doesn't notice the looks Chuck give him.
This is not about him. Castiel has to remember that. This is about Dean, and he should remind him of that. Castiel pushes Dean back and onto his bed. His hand travels down his leg as he kneels in front of Dean.
“Relax Dean,” Cas breathes. “You need to relax.”
Slowly, gently, he removes Dean's boots, undoing the laces carefully instead of just pulling them off as Dean is wont to do. He takes the socks off next, trailing his fingers across the arches of his feet. His feet are warm and Cas can't help but to rub his instep, digging his fingers until Dean curls his toes and twitches and almost kicks him.
Cas laughs, lightly fondling Dean's ankles before allowing his hands to glide up the jean-clad calves and slide to the holster. “I know how much trouble you have with this sometimes. You could use a little help.”
Dean's eyes are darker, but that might just be the lighting. Cas doesn't think so. He follows the strap up the inseam and lightly picks at it, scraping his nails across it. He reaches Dean's growing hardness and smiles. “The holster must make that a bit uncomfortable, huh?” he asks, not even bothering to start to take it off.
“A bit,” Dean agrees, grunting. “And you're not helping matters.”
“Oh, and we know all about how helpful I am nowadays,” Cas replies, a touch of bitterness escaping his lips. He then brushed that thought away when he passes his hand across Dean's zipper, pressing down with the heel of his hand. While one hand works at opening the jeans, the other plays at the holster, a finger slipping under and tugging, pulling the pants tight for a second. Then they are opened and Cas wrenches them down as far as they will before being stopped.
Cas draws Dean out from his boxers and his cock is already wet. It practically jumps into his hand.
“Eager?” Cas asks. “I thought you were tired.”
“Are you- are you teasing me, Cas?” Dean demands, sputtering.
“Of course not. I'm just helping you get undressed. So you will sleep well and look... presentable tomorrow.”
“I'd have to fall asleep for that to happen. Not all that tired right now,” Dean punctuates by thrusting into Cas's hand. It gets his point across, clear enough.
“Let's see what I can do,” Cas almost growls, as he finally- finally- pulls off the thigh holster. He carefully sets it on the ground, just under the edge of the bed before he tugs Dean's jeans fully off, and drops them to the floor. He tosses the boxers next, then just stares. Half on the bed and half dressed, Dean is just the picture of debauched. And Cas had hardly done anything yet.
Castiel climbs up him, there is no other word for it. He pushes at Deans jacket and undoes the buttons on his shirt. Dean takes some initiative and pulls it off, not noticing the one button still fastened. It flies off but neither of them care.
“You have too many clothes on,” Dean pants as Castiel grinds down, pressing them together from chest to hip.
“Seeing as how I can remove my own clothing,” Cas smiles down at Dean as he backs off. Dean scoots fully onto the bed, watching as Cas quickly removes his clothing. He crawls back over Dean and kisses him, hard. Dean pretends not to taste the whiskey.
The cabin is cold, but Dean cannot feel it. Cas radiates heat and it all seems to be focused on him. He latches on to Dean's shoulder and bites his way up the cords of his neck. Dean doesn't even notice Castiel's fumbling until he pulls back and suddenly has a half empty tube of lube in his hand. He's popped it open with his teeth and a shark-ish grin. He slicks up his fingers, but does not look to where Dean has let his legs fall apart. Cas reaches behind to fuck himself open on his own fingers, using his other hand to pin Dean to the bed, nails digging into the ever-present hand print.
Dean watches Cas's face and would swear he sees his grace as he writhes on his own fingers. When he pulls out, he slicks Dean up with a few short pumps before sliding up and sitting back on him until Dean is fully buried. Cas wastes no time, pressing Dean even further into the sheets and raising himself only to slowly fall back down. His thighs shudder with the effort, but Dean's not going to last too long. Cas is quickly coming undone himself.
Thrusting up, Dean cants his hips slightly and a hoarse moan is dragged from deep in Cas's throat. Cas places both hands on Dean's chest to steady himself and just rides him, moving quicker. He stutters to a halt and slumps forward, coming across Dean stomach. His eyes flutter closed and Dean is transfixed. His own orgasm seems to sneak out of him, pulled by Castiel's magnetic force.
Cas's head falls forward to rest in the crook of his neck, breath warm as he pants into his ear. Dean shifts until Cas is next to him. He wipes them both off before collapsing back in to his pillow. Cas just curls into him.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he sighs before drifting away into sleep.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 03:50 am (UTC)Also “Oh, and we know all about how helpful I am nowadays,” Cas replies, a touch of bitterness escaping his lips. LOOK IT'S ME! XD <3
Lovely fic!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 03:52 am (UTC)This line is...yes. *loves this like a loving thing*
no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 04:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 07:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 12:36 pm (UTC)HOW DID I MISS THIS!!!!
*GLOMPS YOU*
I LOVE IT!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 05:50 pm (UTC)Great job!
no subject
Date: 2009-10-03 06:42 pm (UTC):D ily bby. THIS IS SEXY. And what really happened. And I love how Dean was going to let Cas take him, and Cas didn't even notice. I aww-ed. xD
no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-16 11:22 pm (UTC)