As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 73

Dean's knees pushed mine apart further as he shifted his position above me. His hands roamed my body, caressing my naked skin. He angled my jaw just the way he liked as his lips descended on mine, and he slid into me. I gasped into our kiss, and Dean took his opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth. He rocked his hips into mine, creating wonderful friction and making his cock hit parts inside me that I barely knew existed. 

Nothing else existed. It was just us. His touch on my body and my hands in his hair.

His hands traveled down under me, gently caressing my back before dipping lower, gripping my ass, and holding me to him as his cock slid in and out, over and over and over. I was delirious by the time my first orgasm rolled over me. Words that couldn't be put together in a sentence flowed from my lips, along with a multitude of curses. I blinked my eyes open, not knowing when I had closed them.

"Fuck, Will," Dean breathed. "You are so beautiful." 

"I love you," I mumbled into our kiss. 

"I love you."

I flipped us over, making me on top. I teased us both, using the tip of his hard member, eliciting groans and moans from us both. When I couldn't take it anymore, I sunk down on him slowly, leaning forward to connect our lips again. Our lovemaking was slow and passionate, as if it was our last time, and each time Dean touched me, I felt hot and close to the edge. 

"Fuck," he groaned on a drawn-out exhale. His hips started to buck up to meet mine, and the rhythm we found was punishingly perfect.

After, when we lay in bed with our limbs intertwined, trying to catch our breaths, reality came crashing back down. 

We only had thirty-five hours left. Our time was running out.

---

Dean had fallen asleep with his face in a book an hour earlier. I wanted to wake him and make him go to bed, but I knew that if he woke up, he would continue to work, so Sammy and I decided to leave him. 

The sound of a phone ringing made me look up from my book, and Sam held up his phone, mumbling something about "Bobby," and walked out of the cabin we were crashing in. 

I noticed Dean was stirring, something bothering his sleep. It only took a moment longer before he startled awake next to me, his breathing heavy. He looked around disorientedly, eyes landing on the page in front of him. It was a depiction of a hellhound made from human souls. 

"You okay?" 

His head snapped my way before he calmed, running a hand over his face. "Yeah. Come here."

I walked over, running my hand through his messy hair as he smiled at me. It wasn't his usual bright one or even that mischievous Winchester smirk. No. This smile was one I never wanted to see again. It was sad and tired. Him trying to put on a brave face. He guided me into his lap and rested his forehead on my chest. 

"I should have married you." His voice was almost a whisper, low and yearning. 

My heart started to race so hard he must have felt it. I blinked away the tears that gathered in my eyes and threatened to fall. "We don't need a marriage license to know we belong together. You are mine, and I am yours. That will never change, no matter where we are, heaven or hell or anywhere in between. Besides, we have time for that later." I refused to think of the last sentence as a lie— it was a promise.

Sam walked back in, drawing our attention before Dean could answer me with anything other than a tighter hold. "Dig up anything good?"

Dean glanced down at the page open on the hellhound again before closing the book and shaking his head. "No." He cleared his throat. "Nothing good."