spnficlets:

Of all the kisses he shares with Castiel, these are Dean’s favorites.  The ones that start slow, lips barely touching before pulling away only to touch again.  With Castiel’s palm on his jaw and the warmth of their chests pressed together a delightful contrast to the cold wall at his back.  The way Cas’ tongue teases along the swell of his bottom lip, then retreats just as he starts to lean into the promise of a proper kiss.

He loves the way Castiel’s hips move instinctively against his; tiny, tiny, tiny pushes he wouldn’t even notice if the cumulative effect wasn’t his back pressed more firmly against the wall.  Dean enjoys the softness of their bellies pushed together and the way Cas’ breath hitches with the first brush of fingertips against his waist, the way he shivers when Dean gives his lip a playful nibble.

The best thing, though, is the anticipation.  

The hot breath shared, growing quicker and more ragged as their hearts beat harder in their chests.  Dean loves the stirring of real want in his belly that makes him grip Castiel’s waist a little tighter and pull him a little closer.  He craves the soft “oh” it earns him and the way Castiel’s lips hover so close to his own that he can feel the heat of the impending kiss for an eternal second before it happens.  The heat comes just ahead of a barely audible noise - low and guttural; not a gasp, not a moan - that always gives Castiel’s intentions away.

When their lips finally meet in earnest, it’s like a wave to shore.  Pressed lips and teasing tongues, Castiel’s fingers tightening against Dean’s face before they slide around to curl at the base of his skull and pull him in.  The wall is warm now, hard behind him as Castiel’s body meets his and pushes and Dean feels like a butterfly in a thunderstorm.  Through the passion and the need, Castiel’s lips are soft, his tongue quick as kisses Dean so thoroughly his knees turn to jelly.  Dean’s free hand finally settles on Cas’ hip, pulling him forward as they use the wall to keep themselves upright.

They kiss, give and take, until Dean feels as though his lungs are on fire and then for half a second more.  When Cas finally pulls away, his lips still hover spit wet and hot, barely brushing Dean’s as they go back to sharing the same aching breath.  The sounds he makes; always soft, soft, soft, and oh-so-sweet make Dean’s heart pound behind his breastbone.  They hold one another until they can almost breathe, lips pressing and giving and pulling away over and over as fingers stray under fabric in search of warm skin.

And, as always, just when Dean’s head has almost stopped spinning and his feet feel firmly on the floor again, Castiel presses forward to kiss him again.