For Dean on his Birthday

[godless_son]

"Dean."

"Dean, wake up."

He has everything prepared and has had everything prepared for several hours and while he tried to lay down and sleep, he simply did not need it tonight. Plus, he is mildly nervous about how Dean will react to his plans. As far as he can tell, the Winchesters only celebrated birthdays when they were younger and they seemed to revolve largely around Sam. He is uncertain Dean has had many of his own celebrations and intends to make a change.

Dean deserves this and Castiel has decided he deserves the opportunity to give it to him. But now he is bored and would like to start the day. There are three pies still cooling in the kitchen, a fresh pot of coffee waiting and all the animals are at least for now, taken care of. He blinks, changing into a pair of pajamas (he's been told he's much more comfortable to be with in bed when not fully clothed) and shuffles underneath the covers. He misses the sensation of warmth and body heat but he remembers it well enough to find it comforting to hide underneath here with Dean all the same.

"It's your birthday, Dean."

Comments

[always_enduphere]

As he always does in moments where no danger is imminent, Dean wakes slowly, blinking reluctantly through his first few breaths of consciousness. But then the warmth of Castiel's body stretched alongside his penetrates, and Dean slings an arm around his waist, burying his nose against Castiel's throat.

And then the smell of pie penetrates, and Dean's eyes slit open. Dimly, he remembers other birthdays - his fifth, the last before his mother was gone, and the thirtieth birthday he'd passed on the island, a memory he shies away from, as he does all memories of Angua.

He can't recall now why, exactly, a birthday is cause for the scent of not one, but three pies. Unless..."Am I forty?" Dean asks. "Did that - am I forty now?"

[godless_son]

"It is imprecise, given the confusion of our timelines but it is entirely possible that today is your fortieth birthday," Castiel confirms, running his fingers through the short hair at the back of Dean's neck.

"My vessel would have been forty this year as well, according to my own timeline. We are a pair of old men, Dean," he muses, pulling him a little closer. "Happy Birthday."

[always_enduphere]

"Thanks," says Dean into Castiel's skin, then, "Hey, I'm only thirty seven!" He pulls back to grin down at him, cheeks still lined with the folds of his pillow. "You're the dirty old man in this relationship."

[godless_son]

"If you wish to remain thirty seven despite the very real fact that you have lived considerably longer than that I am not going to deny you," Castiel murmurs, staring fondly up at Dean as he traces the crease in his cheek.

"And you correct. I am thousands and thousands of years older than you. And very much taking advantage of you."

[always_enduphere]

"Bring up Hell on a man's birthday, that's cold," Dean huffs, but he's still smiling when he sniffs the air. "Seriously, how many pies did you make?"

[godless_son]

"I purchased three pies from a nearby bakery both because I wanted them to be good and because I wanted you to have a variety of choice," Castiel says, shifting until Dean is settled between his legs.

"I thought we could have birthday sex of your choosing as well as attempt sledding. There is apparently a dangerously steep hill outside of town I thought might appeal to you. It's your day, Dean."

[always_enduphere]

"It's my day," says Dean, tasting the words as much as speaking them. Even so, it's a hard phrase to make sense of - a whole day, with nothing to do but spend time with Cas, eat pie, go - "Sledding?" Dean laughs, incredulous. "I haven't been sledding since...hell. I know there was one time at Bobby's when I was little."

[godless_son]

"I have it on somewhat good authority that it's a thing adults do," Castiel murmurs. "And you will have as proper a birthday I can muster every year from now on."

He lets out a happy sigh, running his hands down Dean's back to grab a generous handful of ass.

"You have two immediate choices before you. Birthday sex or Birthday pie. You can have both but you have to choose the order in which you will have them.

[always_enduphere]

"Sophie's Choice for my birthday, huh?" Dean asks, wriggling his ass against Castiel's grip. He buries his nose against the stubble of Castiel's throat, then wriggles again, enjoying the lazy friction against Castiel's body. "Starting to skew in a definite direction here."

[godless_son]

"I am entirely at your bidding today," Castiel murmurs, hitching a leg around Dean's waist, eyes fluttering shut as they move together. He tips his head back, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.


"You will still need to make the difficult choice of what sexual acts you would like to choose, of course. I have ideas but I would like to know what you want."

[always_enduphere]

"Something like this," Dean answers, mouth open against Castiel's throat. He curls his fingers in the waistband of Castiel's boxers and drags them down, groaning quietly for the sudden stretch of hot skin. "Sleepy morning sex, Cas, nothing like it."

[godless_son]

"I'm not sleepy," he says in an apologetic tone, waving a hand to disrobe Dean, unwilling to push him away long enough for even that simple task. It never ceases to amaze him that when it comes to Dean, he has just as little control of his body as an Angel than he did as a human.

"But I like you when you're sleepy. I like how you look in the mornings."

He moves one hand to the back of Dean hand, the other sliding around Dean's hip to wrap long fingers around him.

[always_enduphere]

"With dumb hair and bad breath?" Dean asks, but his protests dissolve into another groan, hips hitching forward into Castiel's loose hold. Tangling his fingers in Castiel's hair, Dean pulls his head to the side, biting lazily along the tendon while he thrusts. After a while he hums, rising up on an elbow. "Where's the lube?"

[godless_son]

"The way you look in the mornings belongs to me," he pants, letting himself be moved as Dean sees fit, his grip faltering at the scrape of Dean's teeth. "So I like it best."

He concentrates for a moment, lube appearing next to Dean's hand. "I wish you could still mark me," he says, something he thinks often but rarely alludes to. It does neither of them any good to dwell on the things Castiel misses about this humanity. "But I like the way it feels, regardless."

[always_enduphere]

"Maybe someday," says Dean, uncapping the lube to slick his fingers, "When I don't associate it with you bleeding out, we'll bust out the angel blade. Spread."

[godless_son]

"I would like that," Castiel breathes, imagining himself carrying a mark from Dean for days, perhaps hidden just underneath his shirt.

He raises his hips, effortlessly lifting both his and Dean's weight just enough to shove a pillow underneath before spreading his legs. "I don't want much preparation. I want it to hurt as much as it can."

[always_enduphere]

"Bossy," Dean murmurs, "I thought it was my day." Still, he pushes two slick fingers into Castiel without warning, working them before Castiel has had time to so much as draw a breath. "I want to watch you ride me this time."

[godless_son]

Any counter argument to the bossy label quickly dies in favor of a low moan. He nods enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut as he fucks down onto Dean's fingers.

"I want that. I want you to watch me do that. Roll over, Dean."

[always_enduphere]

Dean does, sleepiness half-feigned now that he's felt the heat of Castiel's body clamped hard around his fingers, heart pumping faster for the phantom grip around his cock.

He's breathless, fingers tugged away in favor of grabbing Castiel's hips, positioning him over his own body. "Gonna give me a show?"

[godless_son]

"I don't know," Castiel murmurs, hesitating for a moment as he tries to decide what constitutes a 'show'.

"But I very much like the idea of you watching as you fuck me."

He lowers himself onto Dean's lap more quickly than he ever could as a human, fingers digging into Dean's chest, moaning loudly and without regard for their long suffering neighbor.