Teaser

His return to waking was slow. A vague sense of being pinned down by and wrapped around a warm, comforting weight—too warm. Trying to move his hand up to his face but dully registering the fact that something… no, someone wouldn’t let it go. His other hand… cornered against the seatback by two bodies.
A tightness—fullness—in his body where, when he fell precipitously into sleep the night before, there had been none. Only the sense of having been released from a delicious suffering, and the feeling of resting safely between overheated bodies. One to which it belonged, the other… Cas.
Cas.
Dean inhaled, filling his chest to bursting even as his body forced it right back out again in a yawn that would make a lion proud. His whole body tensed and relaxed in ricocheting waves; a symptom of his brain double-checking that everything attached to it indeed worked. The movement pushed his hips up, chafing his gluttonous penis into the sweat-slick small of Castiel’s back. A bolt of pleasure in his groin left him shivering with want. What? Last night wasn’t enough for you? A drowsy laugh shot out of his lips propelled by a bullet of air.
It was then Cas chose to rearrange himself, rolling his torso side to side like a snake, looking for the perfect resting place on his changed pillow. Dean’s swollen cock rolled between them, his foreskin pushed up then pulled down as the angel’s pelvis moved. A sound that was both a don’t-wanna-wake-up groan and a fuck-yes moan escaped Dean before he could do a damned thing to stop it. Cas settled, sleeping awake, content where he was.
Breathing in deep, Dean exhaled loudly, the sound tinged with carnal pleasure. Wanting more. Too drowsy to make it happen. Head still floating on ripples of afterglow like a leaf on water. Eyes closed, it was smell he used to see.
He hardly remembered it; Castiel going to the trunk one more time for more blankets. There was an ethereal, unreal quality to it, but it must’ve happened because he could smell old leather and musty wool blankets. One under his head and shoulders, taking the edge off laying up against the door, his still-sleeved sleeping bag making the incline bearable. Castiel lying on him, his breast serving as pillow, holding one of his hands against his sweating chest, the scent of last night’s sweat in his hair and on his skin.
Cas moved, setting his other hand free from being pinioned between their bodies and the seat. Air from under their covers wafted out. The synthetic tang of lube. Cas’ smell… and his. He couldn’t reach his own dick to knead out the itch for pleasure, but maybe… Cas’ hand snuck around under the heavy leather laying his limp organ into the thicket of pubic hair on his belly.
He could feel Cas smile. The muscles wrapped around his head moved. The side of Cas’ head against his chest muscle snuggled down a little more. He found Dean’s searching hand and brought him to where he wanted him; holding, petting, and massaging the last couple inches of his penis underneath the heat of his palm. An appreciative hum rose up out of the body laying on him.
Dean smirked. Good morning to you, too.
His trapped hand now free, it wandered through the air, fingers finding the spiky yet soft sleep and sex induced explosion of hair atop the head on his chest. Cas nuzzled into the touch hard and tightened his grip on Dean’s other hand, now pressed to the seraph’s stomach. Dean blinked as the thought of Cas getting up and coming to him in their bed in the morning’s small hours, taking their penises in hand together and delivering sweet release from his need took over his brain. Staring at Baby’s roof like he could see straight through it, Dean lay there helpless as something in his chest broken open and the feeling inside poured out, liquifying him.
Castiel brought the hand on his hair to his wet lips. Because of the smell of them on it, not despite it, instead of a quick peck, it was a long, sweet, and savouring kiss.
Thoughts still hazy as his vision, Dean smiled, feeling relieved he didn’t have to figure out which words to say. Somehow, knowing that made heat between them even better. He needed water… yet didn’t want to move. Too soon to give up how lying together this way felt. He swallowed down a bittersweet sadness, his eyes watering, when he realized every morning they ever woke together, it always be too soon.
Always.
Again, the angel seemed to know his heart was hurting, even if it also wanted to, simultaneously, vault the moon with joy. He found himself treated like a living blanket in which the angel wrapped himself as tightly as he could. The pleasure of Cas’ touch tracing over his arms, soothing, melded into the groggy peace, contentment, and over-warmth overloading his senses and driving him ever closer to sleep with each passing moment…