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Summary
Dean groaned, a pained sound from being caught between a rock and a hard place as he felt Castiel’s lips on his sensitive neck, at his quickened pulse. They lingered there, faintly parted with the flush of warm damp breath, taking those precious moments to feel Dean’s fervent fluttering heartbeat, and his stomach sank with anxiety as he heard Sam snoring in the next room; capable of waking up and wandering to bed at any moment, but when Castiel closed those deceptively soft lips over his pulse entirely, letting him feel just the lightest graze of teeth, he was well on his way to saying fuck it and hoping for the best.