For sleight_of_fate

[whiskeynpie]

Every day Dean found himself getting better and better, and funny thing is it's only been less than a week. It feels way longer than that. Maybe because he's stuck here in this motel room and not out on the road like he usually is, by now. But hey, at least he's got company. Company he actually likes and is becoming quite fond of. It's not an easy thing, to get into Dean's good graces and be thought of as someone Dean thinks of as important - but Rhys is well on his way to becoming that type of person to Dean.

Currently, Dean's laid up on the bed, slouching against a pillow near the headboard, his back nearly healed and reading the local paper. He looks up at the alarm clock next to him to note the time and sees it's almost time for dinner. In another day or so, Dean'll be heading back on the road and... then what? He's trying not to think of it. He's gotten used to the company and having Rhys around and now he's not sure what he's going to do when he has to get back on the road and inevitably let Rhys go.

Comments

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys is a good roommate/caretaker, which helps things along. Solicitous without being stifling, willing to do his share of the work to keep things flowing, and, after that rough night, keeping his opinions on Dean's vices to himself, content to simply coast, keep an eye on Dean's healing process and providing company when the other man wants it and peace and quiet when he doesn't. More remedies to drink (less horrible-tasting, thankfully, and now, mostly sneaked into tea or mixed with Coke to make them easier), but also more backrubs, which is likely a therapy that Rhys doesn't have to do much to talk Dean into. And anything else, well, Rhys is very careful not to stress Dean's healing back too much, but there is still that lingering anticipation and promise that even their experimentation so far hasn't taken the edge off of, not really. Rhys still has a little trouble sleeping at times, thinking about that, and wakes up at least once a night with a dry mouth, pounding heart, and a hard-on that refuses to go down.

There's a couple of long phone calls, since Rhys does occasionally have other clients, but most of them seem to be consultations and Rhys doesn't seem to be in any rush to leave, either. If Dean presses, Rhys just grins and points out that he's not going to drive all the way to Reno to mix a remedy that he can dictate over the phone, before retrieving his lighter and one of the hand-rolled herbal cigarettes that's the main source of the vanilla-and-incense smell that clings to him.

Because truthfully, Rhys likes the company, too. He's going to leave when Dean is better, they both know it, but he's hoping, inwardly, that maybe the next city will be better, that things will settle down, that he'll get a decent place where he can run his business, and maybe that means a quiet, stable place where Dean can swing by on his way through every so often. That seems reasonable, right? Of course, the scant handful of cash in his wallet means it's not likely and unless he hits a quick windfall, he'll be sleeping in his van until he can finagle something less...mobile, but at least he has a plan, and that counts for something. The rest, well, he's used to just playing it as it goes.

[whiskeynpie]

If it wasn't for the slight twinge to his back whenever he twisted or bent too much, he was sure they'd be using this time to themselves in a more fun manner. But as it is, Dean's still healing and that means he still can't put too much stress on his back. Honestly, Dean's still thinking about that morning a few days ago, how Rhys felt beneath him, the sounds he made.

Every now and then Dean will glance over to the man and let his gaze rake up and down his body when he thinks Rhys isn't looking. Glancing up from the paper, Dean reaches over for the take out menu, his stomach grumbling a little. "So, what do you think we should have for dinner tonight?" Dean asks, waving the take out menu. He's got more than one, so they can make their choice.

Truthfully, Dean's thought about asking Rhys to go along with him. He likes the company and he hasn't done this shit on his own for a few years now and he's gotten accustomed to having someone there with him, watching his back. But for now, he doesn't think about it. He's still got time.

[sleight_of_fate]

"Just not that Chinese place from down the road. I think something died in the grease they used." He wrinkles his nose in distaste. He'd sprawled out on his bed, bare toes wiggling and thumbs hooked in the empty beltloops of his jeans. He's gotten comfortable, even more than before, hanging around the room like he lives there.

Most of the time, Rhys behaves. He pretends not to notice Dean watching him, but every so often, he can't help but do something...how can he ignore it, when he can feel the heat on his back like the sun? And he can't resist putting on a nonchalant show, stretching, teasing, or just letting his jeans slide down a little lower, shifting just so. He remembers how Dean felt on top of him, and that night in the shower, the whispered promises, and he certainly hasn't forgotten them. Even if those promises mean saying goodbye, that Dean's healed enough for them to part ways, he's still looking forward to it.

"The place down by the convenience store might be okay, though. Not feeling picky, though, and if you want me to duck out and make a run for whatever, I can pick up beer while I'm at it." He shrugs amiably, easygoing in the extreme. It's not an act, these past few days have proven- Rhys really is just that adaptable.

[whiskeynpie]

He snorts at that but doesn't disagree. Definitely not the best Chinese he's ever had but when you're hungry enough, it works. Dean takes a moment to consider, then nods. "That works, yeah. Let me make a list real quick and I'll get the money out," Dean says, then grabs his notebook from the top of his duffel, where he keeps his notes on cases and whatnot, and scribbles down an order, then makes a short list for the convenient store.

It's mostly just supplies; aspirin, gauze, things like that, then adds the usual like beer, enough for them both. There were times when Dean's tried not to notice the way Rhys looks at him or the way he moved, arches and stretches, or the way his jeans ride a little too low. Honestly, it's starting to wear him down a little.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys adds his own comments to the order, and a few supplies for the convenience store, before pulling his duster on and grabbing the keys to the battered, ancient Ford Econoline van that he's driving.

"Won't need bandages anymore, I don't think," Rhys says conversationally, as he glances down at the list again. "'cept for restocking the kit, I mean. Your back, the last couple days has mostly been just to keep from staining your clothes or the bed." Dean's healing faster than even Rhys predicted, which shouldn't be so surprising. Of course the stubborn bastard would just heal faster from injuries out of pure tenacious asshole-ness, or so Rhys thinks.

That Rhys has been putting a little extra energy into it, well, that can stay his secret. If it means Rhys needs a little bit more sleep at night, a couple extra cigarettes outside while he meditates to keep himself balanced to make up for the extra energy he burns through, well, he can deal with that. But he still regrets it just a little bit when he says, "At this rate, you can probably get yourself back on the road pretty soon. Think you're doing alright without painkillers by now, so, as long as you aren't gonna go get yourself torn up again, think I can sign off on you without incurring the Wrath of Bobby."

[whiskeynpie]

Dean gives sort of a wry grin at that, cause yeah, they've always been quick healers when they were able to get enough downtime long enough to actual heal. But it also reminds him that this little vacation will soon be over. He tries not to think about it too much.

"Yeah, probably, within the next day or so," he says, then laughs at the mention of Bobby's wrath. "Man, I'm really gonna get it the next time I see him," he says with a small, fond smile. "Oh and see if the convenient store has those little pies." He hasn't had pie in weeks.

[sleight_of_fate]

"Hey, 'least you're gonna see him again to get hell." And pies, right. See what I can do." Rhys flashes a smile at Dean's sweet tooth, and glances back at the list. "Be back in a few, then."

It takes a couple tries to start the van, but that's nothing new. Rhys is irritated, but he fully expects when he rolls into the next town, he'll be fucking around under the hood for a while, anyway, trying to keep her going for a little longer. He's been able to cover basics, but part of that is using charms to jimmy vending machines and shoplift, too, and he's living out of the van right now. The Winchesters aren't the only ones with their tricks for getting by, after all, and Rhys is admittedly in the middle of a rough patch right at the moment.

The big Ford does start up, though, and Rhys is back before too long with food and most of the list, including several flavors of pies to make absolutely sure all possibilities are covered. No hardship, because honestly? Rhys kinda likes them, too.

[whiskeynpie]

"Man, sometimes I wonder," he teases good naturedly and when Rhys leaves Dean feels oddly lonesome. Which is definitely a sign he needs to move on and get back into the game. He's been here, in one spot - with one person that's not his brother - for too long and he's gotten comfortable with it.

Dean mucks around while he waits for Rys and when the man does return, it's with the smell of food and his stomach rumbles again. The hunter rubs his hands gleefully as he motions for Rhys to bring the food and his fine ass over to the bed so they can eat. It's more comfortable eating in the bed than at the table - which he'd tried already and found how uncomfortable that is.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys cheerfully plops down with the bags, plasticware, and bags upon his return, tossing his coat aside and kicking off his boots before he settles on the bed with Dean, enough space between them for the food and drinks. Cartons get divvied up, and Rhys lays claim to his crab rangoons and orange chicken.

"And, I did got pies. Cherry, apple, and chocolate for later...but only if you're good." He grins as he splits up the beers, and neglects to mention that he also bought extra lube and condoms, too, while he was out...no sense in being too forward, and he knows that if he teases too much, chances are they'll forget dinner entirely, even with Dean's stomach growling.

Of course, that doesn't mean that Dean doesn't get to see exactly how well those black jeans fit that ass before Rhys sits down. He certainly wouldn't want to have bought those particular supplies for nothing, after all.

[whiskeynpie]

He's pretty sure Rhys is trying to kill him or something because he definitely notices that ass and has every time Rhys has moved or bent over or walked away. Because it would be a shame not to appreciate such a sight. And suddenly, he's not really all that hungry for food right now - but hungry for something else entirely.

He's felt this way for awhile now, the last couple days, since their last encounter. Without a word, Dean pushes himself forward and reaches out, hooking a hand at the back of Rhys' neck and dragging him forward for a kiss, hot and needy, as he plunders the man's mouth with his tongue.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys would laugh if he could, but he's too busy being dragged, and then his mouth is busy with other things. He has a moment to be gratified that Dean's movements are smoother, quicker, no longer strained by pain, but he only thinks about that for a second before he's far more interested in the way that Dean's mouth covers his, the way he so boldly takes control. That little voice also comments, almost in awe, that damn, Dean is quick for such a big man, both strong and dextrous...dangerous, a hunter through and through. Rhys is quick, light on his feet and pretty damn flexible, but he's not a fighter, and seeing and feeling Dean move reminds him of that.

It's exciting as hell, having this big, powerful man drag him in, all feral want and strength, and Rhys revels in it. A small murmur escapes him as he parts his lips to Dean's, kissing him back just as ardently and gripping his shoulders for stability, but he knows, in a weird sort of way, that it's okay anyway...that Dean won't let him fall. It's a strange thought, and a freeing thought at the same time, but not one Rhys dwells on. He's more interested in letting himself be dragged into Dean's lap, dinner half-forgotten in favor of straddling the bigger man's lap, a willing prisoner as he holds on and gives himself over to the sheer, intoxicating intensity of those kisses.

[whiskeynpie]

Dean groans into the kiss as he hauls Rhys forward and into his lap, immediately pressing up into the weight settled there against his groin. His hands slid around the smaller man's body and moves up his back, under his shirt to feel his warm skin against his fingers, then gently rakes his nails down Rhys' back and dips them into his low riding jeans to grab his ass and jerk him forward against his hips.

That pulls a moan from Dean as he trails his lips down along Rhys' jaw, little nips and bites across his skin as he tilts his head and leans in to suck a mark at the man's neck while his hips push up into the others own, grinding them together. Yeah, he's definitely feeling a lot better today.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys grinds back, shifting his weight and positioning his legs so that he can get the best contact against Dean's body, tight jeans doing most of the work for him as he splays his fingers against the hunter's chest, sliding around to his sides and then looping in his waistband for support. Rhys's body shifts as he rocks slowly against Dean as the hunter's hands slide up his back, feeling them both getting harder where they press together and god, what he wouldn't do to be out of these jeans right now because, as hot as it is, these stolen teenage makeout shenanigans, he's so goddamn tired of all this teasing by now. He wants the real thing, wants Dean to throw him down and just fuck him cross-eyed, and badly.

And he knows Dean probably knows it, too, but he can still afford to tease a little. "This mean you want a lap dance?" He grins breathlessly, tipping his head back and inhaling sharply at the pressure of teeth on his sensitive skin. Yes, he'll definitely put that option on the list, maybe in that big black car of Dean's, someday, if they ever get that chance. But right now? All he's thinking about is that they have the whole night and Rhys wants to spend as much of it as possible with Dean inside him.

[whiskeynpie]

"If it means I get you out of these jeans, then hell yeah," Dean mutters against Rhys' neck and slowly, he moves to the edge of the bed, legs dangling over and using the leverage to rock up against the other man. Dropping his hands down to Rhys' hips and then slowly down to his ass to grab and squeeze, Dean pulls back and smirks at the man.

Leaning forward, Dean trails his lips up to the man's ear and whispers hotly against it, "C'mon Jared, show me what you got, huh?" then slides his hands up and tucks them into his jeans and squeezes his bare ass, using the grip to pull the man against him as he rocks up to grind their bodies together again.

[sleight_of_fate]

Jared. God, he knows names have power, but he never expected that it would feel this much like magic, hearing Dean say his name like that. He doesn't even recall how long it's been, and right now, he doesn't care, because the guy's touch...that's pretty damn close to magic, too. Feeling Dean's calloused hands sliding down the back of his jeans, over the bare cheeks of his ass gets a little whimper out of him, and he buries his head in the bigger man's neck, inhaling deeply before he starts tugging at Dean's shirt.

"Hey, gotta give you something to look forward to later, right?" His grin is all jackal, trying to keep his balance on the edge of the bed and get Dean's shirt off at the same time, but he's managing pretty well, especially with strong hands on him and this sort of incentive in mind. "And, by the way, as your presiding medical professional, you're officially healed. Which means..." he pauses in pulling at Dean's shirt to lean in, lick along the bigger man's jaw and nip his earlobe. "That we can absolutely get these damn jeans off."

[whiskeynpie]

Dean chuckles softly at the question as he nips at Rhys' ear, tugging the lobe into his mouth and sucking briefly before pulling back. "Well, I suppose," he teases in reply, having to pull his hands away in order to get his shirt off, not even bothering to see where it lands. He groans at the thought of finally getting naked and fucking Rhys, something he's wanted to do since that first night in the shower.

"Well then, why don't you help me?" He murmurs, sliding his hands down to begin popping the buttons of Rhys' jeans open as his lips tilt up into a playful smirk. Though before anything gets to going, he'll have to remember to move the food to the floor, there's no way he's ruining their dinner for later.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys chuckles low in his throat, hands moving down to cover Dean's as they slide over the zipper and where Rhys's hard-on pushes against the binding denim. "Or, we could stick with the original plan and actually, you know, have dinner first for a change." Still grinning, even though the words catch in his throat at the feel of Dean's hands on him, the way his voice goes all gravelly when it's that low bedroom growl. He thumbs at the button to make it easier to get the jeans off, careful with the zipper and guiding Dean's hands as they go, slow and sensual. Every time before this, they've gotten caught up in impulse, and Rhys finds it a little ironic that now he's thinking about unveiling, but that's what he's doing. Of course that could change in a heartbeat, going from zero to laundry explosion, but for now Rhys does a slow roll of his hips, then a sigh as his fly opens and gives him some room. "Mmm. Fuck. See what you do to me?"

[whiskeynpie]

"Mmm, we could, but is that what you really want," asks Dean, rolling his hips upward in a slow grind, his heart racing as he lets Rhys' hands guide his own. He brushes his fingers forward to tease, stroking over the man's hardened cock through thin material. Briefly he glances down between them and feels his own cock twitch at the sight of their hands twined together on Rhys' jeans. "Well, I definitely plan to do you," he teases, lifting his head and leaning in to nip at the man's lips. "Yeah, yeah I know," he murmurs a little more sincerely, "you do it to me too."

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys peers into Dean's eyes, dark blue meeting green. "Think you know exactly what I want," he murmurs back, then plants another slow kiss on his lips as he wriggles to get the jeans down in the back, doing a slow reveal. Pauses to trace Dean's lips with the tip of his tongue, giving him an idea of the control he's got over that tongue stud. "Got a list of my own, believe me."

But he backs off, just for the moment to get the bags off the bed before he gets those jeans off and starts working on Dean's, because there's so much going through his head right now that he knows if he doesn't stop right this moment, he won't have the willpower to.

[whiskeynpie]

Oh yeah, he knows exactly what Rhys wants - and not because the man's been hinting at it for days - but because he wants it too. Wants to be buried balls deep in that ass of his, wants to feel Rhys writhing beneath him and crying out in pleasure. He's imagined it a dozen or more times since that morning, after getting a feel for what it could be like.

Dean watches as Rhys moves the food and then pushes his jeans off, his own hands going to his jeans to begin undoing them and then being joined by Rhys' to get them off faster. Not fast enough, it feels like, but when they are off he's in just his boxers, tented obscenely with his hard cock.

Grasping the man by the wrist he pulls him down into his lap again, then turns and pushes him down onto the bed, covering Rhys' body with his own, moves between his legs and grinds down into him with nothing but thin fabric between them. "You got everything we need?" Dean asks, breathless as he leans down and runs his tongue along one of the tattoos, something he's wanted to do since he first saw them.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys shudders, his own briefs doing absolutely nothing to hide how hard he is, and Dean finally being able to move freely, to manhandle him like this, excites him just as much as he thought it would. If it was anyone else, he might be worried, but... he trusts Dean, and that's why he can let himself go like this, why he can play this game. It's strange to realize that, but then again, Rhys has always been a pretty good judge of character, and there's something there that makes him feel that for all his pain and torment, whatever mistakes he's made, Dean's a decent guy, a good guy. A pain in the ass, maybe, but a good person.

Rhys wouldn't be here otherwise, more naked than not underneath him and panting. Just Dean's breath on his bare chest has got his nipples hard, barbells flashing, and what muscle there is there shifts nicely under the ink, practically a book of experience in itself written across his smooth, fair skin.

"Yeah. The small bag. Figured neither of was...mmmm...gonna want to stop if we got started." He giggles at that, honest-to-god giggles, but it trails off, nearly a moan as he moves under Dean, trying to get enough leverage on the bed for more contact. It's a repeat of the other night but even more intense knowing this time, there's nothing stopping them from going further, and this time, no barrier of clothes except underwear that isn't a barrier at all. "Ain't no boyscout, but know how to plan ahead."

[whiskeynpie]

"Good boy," Dean murmurs and grinds down against him a second time, goes slow and hard, pulling a low moan from himself as well. Then he pulls back enough to snag the bag and dump it's contents onto the bed, pleased with what's there. Then he reaches down and hooks his fingers into the band of Rhys' boxers, tugs them down and off, tossing them to the side. He lets himself get a good long look at him spread out like that under him. Leaning in again he teases a tongue over a nipple, flicks the barbell with the tip of his tongue a few times, then gently tugs it with his teeth before letting go and grabbing the lube.

He sits back to open it up, pours some onto his fingers and rubs them together to warm it up and get them nice and slick. "Gonna enjoy fuckin' you with my fingers and opening you up for me. Been thinkin' bout it for days." He's imagined time and again what it'd feel like to finger the slighter man open, having him writhing on his fingers and then later, his dick. Lowering his hand he pushes his fingers against the man's hole, rubs them over the soft pucker and then pushes one in, the velvety heat engulfing his finger.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys helps himself be stripped, just as eager to be naked as Dean is to have him naked, and once he's got his shorts off, erection bobbing free of the confines of the cloth, gives the bigger man a smile that's all allure as he basks in the praise...and Dean's kisses on his now-bare skin. Attention to his very, very sensitive nipples lights Rhys up like a pinball machine, and he groans and tries to arch up harder off the bed at the feel of Dean's mouth on the pierced flesh, nipples instantly hard and barbells glinting bright in the low light as the mage's body rises and falls in response to the stimulation. Dean abandoning them gets a little whimper of desolation and Rhys pants, his own hand going up to toy with the jewelry and sprawled out on the bed like a porn star while Dean gets the lube ready. He puts on a pretty damn good show, especially driven half-mad with anticipation as he is, and the fact that he's laying there, ass-naked and willing to let Dean do damn near anything he wants to him...

And at that growl, at the sight of Dean's slicked-up hand, parts his legs in invitation. "God, fuck yes, Dean. Just get me ready for that big cock of yours inside me, I want it so fucking bad." He raises his hips to make that exploration easier for Dean, giving a soft sigh when that first finger pushes into him and reflexively clenching around it to make it tighter. "Mm. Yeah."

[whiskeynpie]

Dean watches every reaction with rapt attention, his own cock throbbing hard in his boxers, wetting the inside with his precome and the ache to be inside Rhys deep in his balls. He takes in the way the man's body arches, hips canting upward and with his free hand he reaches out to tease at the man's nipples, fingers flicking over the barbell and tugging gently. "Like that, don't you?" Dean murmurs, voice thick with want and lust for the man. "Look at you, all spread out and open for me. Gonna fuck you so hard, gonna fuck the come right outta you."

Pulling his hand back a fraction, he drives his finger in even harder, hooks it slight and after a moment begins thrusting in and out, working the angles to open him up. Then after a few moments, he adds a second slick digit to begin scissoring and spreading him, groaning at the tight heat and suction. It's even better than anything his imagination and dreams - and oh, he'd dreamt of this - could have ever come up with.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys gives a breathy laugh, rocking his body eagerly against Dean's ministrations. "Umm. You're...ahh. Okay, you're good at that." He gives another roll, accompanied by a gasp as his body lifts up again, trying to ride the hunter's hand as best his position will allow. And when Dean's fingers come close to Rhys's most sensitive spots, the squirming intensifies, accompanied by a few drops of pre-come leaking from the tip of his already painfully hard cock. Rhys is ridiculously easy to play this way, and he knows it, and now Dean does too.

Dean's in control right now and Rhys is absolutely fine with that, but Rhys has a list, too, of the things he'd love to be doing to the other man as well, things he's been thinking about since he got here. They're just...taking a backseat for the moment as he gives himself over to the maddening feeling of Dean's fingers working him open, stretching him in anticipation of the promised fucking that has Rhys's mouth dry and his heart pounding, at the idea of being trapped and dominated under this big, powerful, incredibly sexy man, hearing him growling in his ear as he fucks him blind.

Rhys gives another little wordless moan, thinking of that again, biting his lip and pushing against Dean's hand wantonly. Just seeing the look on Dean's face while he finger-fucks him is going straight to Rhys's balls, never mind what those fingers are actually doing to him. "Better hurry up if you're gonna," he manages, and he's not sure how he's managing coherent words. "God, could come just like this."

[whiskeynpie]

"I know," he says smugly, working his fingers in and out of Rhys' willing body, spreading him wide open. He adds a third soon after, loving the way the man squirms down onto them and he can't wait to see Rhys squirming for his cock inside of him, to feel those walls clamp down around his dick instead of his fingers. "Yeah? Then I guess I better get to fuckin' you then, huh?" He rasps out and after a few more hard thrusts of his fingers, he pulls them out and grabs a condom.

Tearing the packet with his teeth, he shoves his boxers down with the other hand, pushing them out of the way and then drops his other to roll the condom on, nice and snug. He slathers some lube onto his sheathed cock, stroking a few times to get it nice and slick, then sidles up between Rhys' legs, grabbing his thighs to spread him wider, then grabs his dick to line himself up.

It's a slow push inside, despite how badly he wants to just fuck the other man. But he's not about to hurt Rhys just so he can get off. "Fuck," he breathes out, the heat and constriction of him maddening. He goes slow, but doesn't stop until he bottoms out, then stills for a few moments to let them both adjust. He's wanted this too badly to screw it up now by being too eager. When they've both calmed, Dean does exactly as he promised. He fucks him.

The pace is hard and face as he pulls out nearly all the way and shoves back in, breath coming out in sharp pants as he watches beneath lidded eyes the man beneath him. His own mouth is slack with pleasure and his hands move to grip tight at Rhys' hips, fingers digging in as his hips piston forward. It's so good, mind numbingly good. He hasn't fucked like this in a long time.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys starts panting at the third finger eased inside him, those quiet little noises escaping him as he tries to keep the rhythm going. It's been a while for him, and it's tight but it still feels damn good, and he's starting to open up, to stop fighting it quite so much as he gives himself over to it.

By the time Dean rolls the condom on and eases between his legs, Rhys doesn't give a shit if he's ready or not, he wants it that damn bad. He smiles up at the bigger man and runs his hand over his chest, a light trace of fingers, and tips his head back with a shaky sigh as he lets Dean move his legs apart and press in.

And there's pain, there's always pain the first few moments until he convinces his body that he wants this, but it's fucking amazing, too, a rush of both physical pleasure and Dean's excitement flooding through Rhys's sensitive psych. Rhys lets out a long, low groan, hissing, "Fuck...ah, Dean" as he knots his fingers in the covers, eyes going a little glassy at the long-promised moment finally delivered. It only takes a few seconds for his breathing to steady out and the tension to un-knot, and he gives a nod to the bigger man to go ahead, reaching up again to touch his own nipples as he gives himself over to the incredible feeling of Dean's cock finally inside him.

It's as good as he expected, those long deep strokes pulling sounds of pleasure from him with every thrust as his hands scramble for something to grab onto, gazing up to meet Dean's eyes, seeing that sexed-out look on his face and feeling the spark between them as the bigger man's hips piston against his in driving rhythm. Rhys's gasps and little groans turn frantic in no time, unable to help himself, and he writhes passionately under Dean to meet each stroke: it's been a long time, and the hard, pounding pace will leave him feeling it in the morning but right now? It's heaven. "Ah. Oh, god. Dean...Dean. Like that, just like that. Fuck me. Fuck me."

[whiskeynpie]

"Fuck, you feel so fucking good," Dean gasps out, hips driving forward with each rough, hard thrust into the other man. He groans, watches Rhys' fingers move over his own body, the way the smaller man moves under him, meets each thrust with the snap of his own ips, the arch of his own body. "Yeah, that's it, keep touchin' yourself. Look so fuckin' hot like this, taking my cock," he pants out, moving one hand to brace it against the headboard, not even bothered by the sound of it rapping against the wall as he fucks Rhys into the mattress.

He doesn't even care if they break the damn thing to be honest. He shifts slightly to get a better angle and from there fucks Rhys even harder, muscles in his thighs burning from the push but it's so good. Leaning down, Dean claims Rhy's mouth in a rough kiss, all passion and want as he slides his tongue in, teases against Rhys' and the tongue ring, flicks against it a few times before pulling back.

Slowly, in contrast to his fast, hard pace, Dean nibbles his way up to Rhys' ear. "Don't touch your cock," Dean murmurs, voice rough and low, "Want you to come from me fuckin' you. Want you to come from my cock deep inside your hot, willing ass," pants out, then adds. "Jared."

[sleight_of_fate]

When Dean leans forward, Rhys's hands come up to brace on his arms, fingers digging into the solid muscle of his shoulders as his knees lift to make the angle deeper and easier. This is what he was dreaming about, just like this. Dean's body pressing his to the bed, Dean's cock deep inside him, his own rubbing against the cobbles of Dean's belly between them and each stroke pushing him higher. He won't need to touch himself to come, not when he's already dancing on that white-hot edge of ecstasy, and when he returns Dean's kiss he breathes back little whimpering sounds, not quite coherent enough to be curses.

And hearing his name in his ear, in that gravelly voice...god. That nearly undoes him right there. It's so rare that he hears his name, his real name, never mind in passion, and it goes through him like an electric shock. In response, he clenches the muscles of his ass tight, squeezing down on Dean's cock inside him and pushing back up against the bigger man to meet his thrust, proving he's got a few tricks of his own. "All yours," he pants, repeating the motion with a long grind, arching as he works back against Dean, chasing that peak that lingers so tauntingly close and the hunter's energy beating bright and hot against his skin like a caress. "So close...want you to fill me up, Dean, c'mon...come in me so I can feel it..."

[whiskeynpie]

Feeling the way Rhys tightens around him, clenches so tight it's almost painful, has him moaning and slamming in even harder, spurring him on. "Fuck," he breathes out, so close himself he can taste it. For the first time he wishes he had forgone the condom so he really could fill Rhys up with his come.

"Yeah, gonna, fill you up so good," Dean pants out, nibbling and biting along Rhys' neck and ear. "Fuck, Jared, you feel so good, wanna stay in you forever," he breathes out. "C'mon, wanna see you come for me, wanna see you come all over yourself, wanna feel it." It was difficult for him not to touch Rhys, not to reach down and stroke him and feel him coming over his hand. But he wants it like this, wants Rhys to come from just his dick.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys wouldn't mind feeling skin on skin, either, nothing between them at all but flesh and heat, but this will have to do, and something to add to the fantasies for later...and it doesn't really matter right now anyway because he's there, past anything really rational or coherent with Dean's body pinning his and him hard and hot inside him, hitting all the right spots. All he can do is moan and clutch tighter in time with the banging headboard, a new sound every time Dean bottoms out inside him because oh, that's incredible, and finally Rhys tips his head back as he feels himself start to tilt, pants turn to hard gasps and body straining and arching. "Ah, fuck. Yeah...gonna..."

And Rhys unravels, giving Dean the show he wants. Maybe he can do quiet, but he's not doing it now and he cries out, pleasure clear on his face as his body bucks up one last time against Dean and his cock spasms between them, spraying his chest and stomach with come. Letting go like this, letting go completely feels too damn good, and he's chanting Dean's name like a mantra, scratching up his arms as he writhes under him like a wild thing and clamps down hard on Dean's dick inside him with each pulse.

[whiskeynpie]

"Yeah, yeah that's it," Dean pants out, "Come for me, just like that." It's the best thing for him, watching his partner get off. Whether it's his mouth, his fingers or his dick. Feeling Rhys clench down around him as he comes between them makes him moan, a choked, low sound and his hips falter but he continues.

Dean fucks Rhys through his orgasm on his way to his own, pushing in, hard and fast, a few more times before he comes, filling the condom. His body shakes with it, the intensity of it is something he hasn't felt in awhile, not like this. It's different with Rhys, somehow. He ruts through his own orgasm and then begins to slow, breath coming in soft, short pants.

After a few moments, Dean lowers himself down, covers Rhys with his own body and presses his mouth to the other man's in a warm kiss, groaning, pleased, into it.

[sleight_of_fate]

Once again, Rhys jerks and shudders a second time as Dean comes, as if echoing the other man's climax, then slows his shaking, breathing hard but unwilling to let go just yet. Rhys sags back to the bed with Dean still atop him, smoothing the places he clawed with gentle motions of his hands, and where his hands pass, the tension drains out, a reminder of the healing touch that he used on Dean's back these past few days as the smaller man catches his breath and relaxes into the sweat-damp covers. He keeps his legs up, trapping the bigger man's to keep him from pulling out just yet, and just keeping him as close as he can for a little while longer, content to stay pinned under his weight even if Dean has an easy fifty pounds on him.

"Mmm." He returns the kiss, slow and sweet, then gazes up into Dean's eyes with a dazed, somewhat goofy smile, hands splayed lightly against his chest. "Okay, that was worth the wait. Holy shit."

[whiskeynpie]

"Damn right it was," he murmurs quietly, trails his lips down along Rhys' jaw, nips at his skin. "I'm a fantastic fuck." It's said soft and warm when he says it, because somehow this was more than just a simple fuck to Dean. Rhys has grown on Dean these last few days and he finds himself wanting him around more, and just wanting him more.

Dean has no trouble keeping still, content to stay deep inside Rhys, his body warm and pliant beneath Dean's own. It feels wonderful, more than he can ever remember it being while with someone.

[sleight_of_fate]

"Mmm. No arguments here." From the way his eyelids lower, he's on the verge of dozing with Dean over him like a blanket, wrapped up warm and safe. Everyone has their vices and this is Rhys's, but this feeling of safety, of protection, that's rare. It's a weird kind of give and take, he thinks, to be with this man who clearly needs someone to care for him, but that Rhys feels so secure giving himself over to...Safe enough to give him his name, to trust with his safety like this within just a couple of days. Yes, there's still secrets, but Rhys hasn't relaxed around someone like this in what feels like forever.

Which also makes this all the more bittersweet, because the job's done and Dean is (quite obviously) healed and will be moving on, leaving Rhys to go his own way. So he just snuggles down into the smell of their shared sweat and sex on the blankets, Dean's warm skin against his, and tries not to think too much about it. Rhys is used to everyone leaving anyway, and they both have jobs to do, so he should just enjoy it now and remember it fondly later, is all.

[whiskeynpie]

Damn right there wouldn't be any, though he didn't say that. He was far too content to move and decided, hell, why should he then? So instead of moving off, he simply rolled over and took Rhys with him, still buried deep inside of him Dean laid there on his side, one arm draped over the man's side, their legs entwined from the move.

He doesn't want to think of tomorrow, that he'll be on the road soon enough and this place, Rhys, will be in his rear view mirror as he drives off. He hadn't realized he'd get so attached to someone he just met. But yet he's never felt so comfortable around someone before, save his brother (and that was a given).

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys curled up close, head tucked against the bigger man's chest with a smile and just appreciating the warmth with a dozy murmur. There was nothing he wanted to say right now, so he just enjoyed the peace, pretending the moment would last with Dean's heartbeat in his ears and his arms around him.

After a while, though, after the sweat's cooled on their skin and Dean's gone soft and finally eased out of him, he does finally say with a small laugh, "Y'know, we're really easily distracted."

[whiskeynpie]

Dean laughs and the sound is a soft huff, but his shoulders shake with it. "Yeah, we kinda do, don't we?" He murmurs, amused. "Well, can't help it when I've got something so distracting, now can I?" Dean says, reaching up a hand to comb through Rhys' long hair, still as soft as it felt the other morning.

He pulls back just a fraction to tug the condom off and toss it in the trash by the bed, then moves back into his position curled around the smaller man. "I suppose we should eat, huh," he says though he has yet to make a move to get up.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys tips his head into Dean's hand, enjoying the stroking with a soft little contented sound as he nestles up against the bigger man, equally reluctant to give up his spot. No, no complaints at all and if he didn't have to move, he could probably stay here indefinitely- sex and comfort together being damn near irresistible to the mage. He'll start to feel it when the endorphins wear off later, but that's absolutely fine, too. Rhys appreciates that pleasant soreness later to remind him of that intensity.

He gives a small laugh at the suggestion, without doing much to move, either. "Mm. Yeah, probably should eat. Keep our energy up, especially you." He strokes lightly, almost absently down Dean's side. "Though I think I can safely say you're healed." He peers up through his dark lashes, still smiling but...there might a bit of wistfulness there, too.

[whiskeynpie]

"Yeah, probably," Dean mumbles, his small smile softening some as he realizes that Rhys knows too, that he'll be leaving in the morning. It makes him reluctant to move, to do anything really and if he could stop time, for just a little while, he would. It's not often, at all, that Dean becomes attached to someone like this.

Leaning down, Dean kisses Rhys softly, tilts his head to slowly deepen it, tongue licking into the other man's mouth, tasting him and memorizing it, not wanting to forget any time soon.

[sleight_of_fate]

Rhys melts back into the kiss, returning it with a gentle nibble and letting Dean explore where he likes as he continues to stroke the bigger man's skin, luxuriating in the soft comfort of touch and the haze of afterglow. When he looks up, it's all there, what he really wants to say, and he almost does- take me with you. It seems simple, after all. Dean helps people, Rhys helps people, and more importantly, Dean needs help. That should make it obvious, shouldn't it?

But Rhys knows himself too well, how quick he can be to fall like this. Dean has a life of his own, might not want a nagging witch tagging along no matter how good in bed, and Rhys is reading too much into a few days of (admittedly comfortable) camaraderie. Plus, Rhys is fairly sure that they'd murder each other within a week if they actually tried to co-exist indefinitely.

So he snuggles in a little longer to enjoy it, and roll things over in his head. When he looks up again, the smile turns awkward, and he reaches up to run his thumb over Dean's jawbone in an attempt to smooth over those ragged thoughts. Rhys will take this for what it is, that's all, and try to set things on the right track before he leaves Dean. Voice soft in the quiet, he says after a while, "Hey. Um, Dean. Look, I kinda...want you to do me a favor." His blue gaze drops for a second, that little uncertain half-smile on his face, before he glances up again, meeting Dean's eyes with a serious look. Not sure how the big man will take it, but it's important that he tries. "I know it sounds stupid as hell coming from me, but...before you go, I think you should call your brother, and at least let him know you're okay."