OTP

Close Enough

Rating: R
Ships: Giles/Jenny
Summary: Giles and Jenny in his office, PWP, Set between "Ted" (2.11) and "Surprise" (2.13)
Disclaimer: I make no money from this and the characters are not mine
Warnings: Masturbation, dirty talk. Also, I've never written anything like this before.

----

Naturally, Jenny found Giles in his office, pouring over research. She watched him silently, a faint smile playing across her lips, before rapping on the door frame to get his attention.

He turned sharply in his chair, and smiled broadly when he saw her.

"Jenny."

She beamed back at him. "Keeping busy,Rupert?"

"Just looking up omens, portents. Nothing terribly threatening," he explained, setting his books aside and rising from his desk.

"But we're still on for this Saturday, right?"

Giles froze.

"... or not." Jenny wasn't surprised. She was barely even disappointed at this point. It wasn't the first date that had to be canceled due to supernatural circumstances.

"I, um..."

"It's okay, Rupert," she said, sincerely. Jenny stepped into the office, closing the door behind her. As she approached Giles, his eyes tracked her movement. "You can make it up to me."

She put a hand on the back of his neck, stood on her toes, and kissed him. He responded immediately, pressing her closer with one hand around her waist and one between her shoulders. Jenny ran her fingers through his hair, and traced his lips with her tongue, and he parted them for her, deepening the kiss.

Jenny was glad that, after false starts and betrayal and weeks of recovery, they were finally at the point in their relationship where they could do this. She just wished that they were further along.

Without breaking the kiss, Jenny took two steps backwards until her back hit the wall, pulling Giles with her. She hitched a leg around his hip, drawing them closer, as one hand loosed his tie and started unbuttoning his shirt.

It was Giles who pulled away first, ever so slightly. "Jenny... ?"

She smiled. She would never tire of hearing him call her that. "Come on, Rupert. It's just you, me, and a locked office for the next twenty minutes."

She felt his hand on her leg, but it was only to lower it from around his waist.

"Is something wrong?"

He looked at her so sincerely that it was hard to feel disappointed. "It's just... I would rather we take our time."

"Longer than we've taken already?"

The corner of his mouth twitched up at that. "No... I mean..." He leaned in, so that his lips were just brushing hers. "What I'd like to do with you, will take longer than a twenty minute lunch break."

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woodsy cas

Body/Soul: Castiel

Summary: Things get easier for Dean in Purgatory, and harder for Castiel, as their relationship evolves. This is part two of two.
Ships: Dean/Cas
Spoilers: End of season 7
Rating: PG13
Words: 944
Disclaimer: Not my property, I make no profit
Reviews: Yes please!

(part 1)

Castiel is a body that isn’t really his, and a grace that’s steadily evaporating like sweat off his skin. He supposes an angel must be other things too (what was Anna when she fell? But Castiel’s fall was not like) Anna’s and he never did mourn her did he?

there are trees in Purgatory but no insects to pollinate them which means that they live without creating life which means they must be held in stasis in an environment without an ecosystem which is an impossible way of living like an insect without it’s colony and even Michael and Lucifer have each other in Hell but he shouldn’t be mourning because at least he has 

Dean. 

Castiel is purpose, and that’s one thing that has not changed. He draws some comfort from that. Castiel is a warrior (of God), he has to be (he has to fight) to protect Dean. And himself. Not that he’s above sitting in an arena waiting for the lions, but (“We’re getting out of here together, Cas, or not at all. Understand?”). 

Fighting reminds Castiel of who he once was (of God). Which is helpful. It helps him focus. Fending off creatures with his hands. Burning them away with holy wrath. Keeping track of how many are left. What their positions are. How they attack. Dean is at his back, in the corner of his eye. And Castiel knows, and feels, the life and death of every soul that he once made a part of himself. He forces himself not to think of that. He’s mostly successful. 

But when the fighting is done it’s a struggle to not reflect on the fact that he just smote the soul of a werewolf who in life was named Glen, and that Glen was a man (of God) of faith. Of course the soul can’t truly be killed, just subjected to a great deal of pain as it dissolves for the time being.

Like his own vessel dissolved in a river.

But only for the time being.

and that was a flagrant violation of the rules and why does God bother to set rules in the first place if He’s just going to break them and in the unlikely event that Castiel one day meets his Father he’ll have to remember to ask Him about that although maybe Castiel should just ask himself after what he did and what he became and these souls probably have some questions of their own about the pain they were subjected to when Castiel took them when all they ever did was live and die according to the rules set by his Father who must be alive to punish Castiel with life because why would He care enough to give Castiel the chance to 

Fix it. 

Castiel is purpose and purpose requires focus. Even when he’s not fighting Castiel has things to focus on if he and Dean are going to escape. Keeping to the path. Finding shelter. Watching out for Dean.

But there are things that Castiel can’t watch out for. Like the fact that as time goes on, the less Dean talks about getting out. The more he seems at peace in Purgatory. And Dean’s peace unsettles Castiel.

He doesn’t know what to make of it. Though he supposes that Dean has always unsettled him in one way or another.   

Castiel is purpose. But Dean is blood and skin and sweat and breath and he makes Castiel live and feel in the body that’s not really his as he never has before. He makes Castiel focus. On sensation. On skin. The softness of Dean’s lips and the callouses on his fingers. Soothing caresses and sharp bites. How to make Dean sigh and how to make him moan and how to make him gasp out Castiel’s name in one wrecked syllable. 

And Cas knows that it doesn’t mean what it would (at home) on earth. He knows that when he goes down on Dean in an improbably located cabin in a forest with plenty of trees but no insects, that it’s due to adrenaline and camaraderie and isolation from human society doing away with Dean’s inhibitions. And he expects nothing else.

But sometimes (often) (every time) it occurs to Castiel that what it is, especially, is trust. And then it occurs to him, that Dean is caring for him in return. And that’s somewhat more difficult to comprehend than the physical sensations that Dean is drawing out of him. It’s a bit much. It’s a bit too much. It’s much more than Castiel can handle because it’s more than just skin, it’s trust and care, and Castiel hasn’t fixed anything, only tries because Dean needs him to. And it’s Dean’s breath that’s hot on his neck. And Dean’s hands that are on him. And Castiel wants to die. He wants to die, but he’s selfish, and more than death he wants to hold on to Dean. He wants him. He wants. He loves.

there is a love that angels are supposed to have for creation for each other for their Father and Castiel had that love and a piece was broken off and put back wrong with edges and corners out of place stabbing and tearing at him but it’s precious it’s (more than the dead more than) the world to him and it’s

Dean. 

A bit more of Castiel’s grace evaporates with the sweat off his skin

woodsy cas

Body/Soul: Dean

Summary: Things get easier for Dean in Purgatory, and harder for Castiel, as their relationship evolves. This is part one of two.
Ships: Dean/Cas
Spoilers: End of season 7
Rating: PG13
Words: 227
Disclaimer: Not my property, I make no profit
Reviews: Yes please!

Dean is pulsing blood and bared skin, sweat and spit, blown pupils and laboured breathing. He is the buzzing heat that rises off his body. And Cas is there besides him, and they move like they're extensions of each other. Cas is there besides him, radiating power, radiating something that washes over Dean that makes his skin tingle and doesn't let his heart rate slow down. It would scare him if it wasn't so familiar.

He's getting used to Purgatory. If he wasn't, if his actions meant the same thing here as they did in that other life, then, well then there would be a whole lot of different meanings to consider.

But Dean's getting used to Purgatory, so it's easy to go from fighting for his life alongside an angel, to pulling that angel up against his body and pressing his lip to Castiel's. Cas is easy, with his hands and his mouth and his body, eager, and those eyes that radiate something that washes over Dean. Here, tearing through a horde of corrupted beasts, and getting off with Cas in whatever moments are free from danger and exhaustion, mean the same thing to Dean. It means being alive and being connected and living in that exact moment when everything is easy.

And, God, Cas is easy for him.

(part 2)