There was no answer to Dean’s question. Only a surge and then lips collided against Dean’s in a kiss that tasted like Heaven. Dean’s arms slipped around Cas’ waist, and Cas leaned in in in, until he had Dean pressed against the Impala.
Hands slipped under Dean’s shirt, and Cas kissed him like it was his sole purpose in life; to meld their mouths together in a complete puzzle shaped like their lips.
Dean broke the kiss, breathless and weak in the knees, as he moved his hands underneath Cas’ trenchcoat until his fingertips settled on Cas’ back. “Is that a yes?”
Grabbing at Dean, Cas yanked him back into a kiss as he nudged them even closer against the Impala.
Dean got the hint. Loud and clear.
“Parking lot’s too busy,” Dean muttered against Cas’ mouth as Cas slotted his leg between Dean’s thighs.
“Then find another parking lot,” Cas gasped out.
Dean was absolutely and utterly in love.
Pushing Cas towards the passenger seat, Dean stumbled into the driver's seat. He’d barely gotten the key in the ignition before Cas’ hands were on his thigh, lips against Dean’s collarbone as Dean found an abandoned parking lot.
As soon as Dean had shifted the Impala into park, Cas lunged across the seat, kissing Dean stupid. “We’re. Gonna. Be. Husbands.” Cas shivered, kissing Dean between every word, deeper and slower with every kiss.
Cas laughed, the sound reverberating against Dean’s lower lip. “Yes. Now shut up and kiss me, Dean.”
And then Cas was pulling Dean into the backseat, unbuttoning Dean’s flannel shirt as they kissed. Cas’ fingertips trailed fire along Dean’s skin, sparking flames of desire down Dean’s spine.
As their lips met and their bodies moved as one, Dean couldn’t stop from gasping the word against Cas’ skin. Husbands.
gracieabrams
theartofmadeline
2087
stormborns
titsay
kianamaiart
