When they sleep together, it’s always at Oswald’s. He can’t bring himself to fall asleep in Ed’s new apartment. Even if that woman never set foot inside, it feels too mundane for them, too easy for Ed to slip into thinking she might be the one sleeping in his arms. At least in the mansion, Oswald has the comfort of environmental control.
Ed, gentleman that he is, doesn’t tell Oswald that he’s noticed those little roots of anxiety, swelling and threatening to grow over until there’s nothing left of him but thriving, rotten insecurity. Maybe it’s because Ed loves him. Maybe it’s because Ed would sooner die than acknowledge Oswald’s lingering possessiveness. Maybe it’s both.
Whatever the reason, Ed stays determined to treat him well. Currently, he’s rolling his hips over Oswald’s, worrying small, red-purple bites into his chest. Oswald’s eyes flutter open. He didn’t notice Ed taking off his shirt. Upon closer inspection, he realizes Ed’s shirt is gone, too. He’s more hurt he missed that.
Ed leans in to suck one of Oswald’s nipples between his teeth, a quiet laugh escaping him when Oswald whines in response—Desperate, high, and purposefully feminine.
spn crack fic where cas gets hit with a truth spell but it's not an accident. on a case he gets captured by a witch and she's interrogating him and when sam&dean finally show up and kill her cas turns to them and says very gravely, "we have a problem." they get confused and he explains. he physically cannot avoid questions and it takes a herculean amount of effort not to give them his stream of consciousness as it comes. sam asks when it wears off--cas doesn't know. dean suggests "i mean we could just gag you for 24 hours" and cas immediately flies away in terror. lest he tell dean what he really thinks of that plan.
The record that Cas picks is warm toned, with speckles of ocean blue dancing across the vermillion cover. It’s not one of Dean’s, but even at the first note of the song Cas chooses, it feels so strongly of home that he thinks he needs to sit down.
There’s no hope for him there, though, because Cas turns, then, and in one swift movement he’s lacing his arms around Dean, and they’re swaying to the beat of the song like there’s nobody and nothing left in the world but them and their modest little house.
Cas, being only a couple inches shorter, leans his chin on Dean’s shoulder, his lips so close to Dean’s neck that it makes his stomach churn. Cas’ hands rest around the small of Dean’s back, and the song whispers something about falling, and it finally occurs to Dean just how tired he is of pretending he doesn’t want exactly this, with Cas.
So, in what feels like much more of a moment of bravery than it really is, he tightens his grip on Cas’ shoulders, allowing one of his arms to sweep under, around Cas’ back to thumb the back of his neck. Cas leans into the embrace with a contented sigh, and Dean holds him tighter, taking the lead in their makeshift slow dance.
They sway like that for a while longer before he takes Cas’ left hand in his right, allowing them to part so that he can twirl Cas by his arm. Cas plays along with the movement, a grin spreading wide over his face as he glides right back into Dean, as if magnetic. He lets his hands rest on Dean’s hips this time, and his laughter stills as the song starts to fade into an end.
“Dean,” Cas whispers, so sincere it hurts, “I am… Very happy that I met you.”
The words roll smoothly off his tongue, achingly sweet and yet so casually offered, as if they don’t render Dean breathless for a couple seconds, then three, then four—
Cas runs his hands up Dean’s back, and he touches down to Earth again. He tightens his hold on Cas’ shoulders, takes a breath, and continues to let them sway. Barely audible, he replies a “Me too” that he knows is far from lying, but it certainly feels that way.
Dean shuts his eyes and tries very, very hard not to blow his cover.
