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Dean Winchester loves laundry days, sue him.
Of course, this is a more recent develop, because who in their right minds actually enjoys doing their laundry? It takes hours to get everything washed, and on top of that, you have to actually fold and put everything away. The Dean Winchester of seven years ago certainly didn't like it, but then again, the Dean Winchester of seven years ago wasn't shacked up with a certain someone.
"Dean? I think we should get started now if we want to make dinner with your parents on time," Cas says, already taking off his shirt.
"Sounds good, babe," Dean replies, taking a few moments to enjoy the beauty that is Castiel before starting to strip himself.
There are several piles of dirty clothes and towels lined up in the hallway outside their bedroom. Dean has no idea how they accumulate so many things that need to be washed when there are only two of them, but he isn't complaining. More laundry equals more of an excuse to say inside the house and fu-excuse him, make love.
After placing their recently-just-peeled-off clothes into the corresponding piles, Dean follows Cas as he carries a large load to their old-as-hell washing machine, appreciating the view when he bends over to shove everything inside. It takes a few moments to program it to the right time and setting, a few kicks to make the thing start up, but eventually they hear the loud rumble signaling the machine begin the cycle.
Dean and Castiel take a quarter of a minute to blatantly take each other in, but after that, there's no hesitation. Whether it was Dean or Cas who made the first move, it doesn't matter because now they're pressed tightly against each other, kissing fiercely. Castiel is up against the dryer, his arms around Dean's neck and Dean's hand cradling his face, a gentle move for such a passionate kiss.
Somehow they make it to the bedroom, but it takes several fumblesbefore it actually happens. Castiel pushes Dean down on the bed, crawls over him and continuing the kiss. They stay like that for what seems like forever, hands gliding over soft flesh and teeth catching on swollen lips. However, it soon gets very difficult for Dean to ignore the fact that there is a hard dick pressed up against his thigh. With a quick flip, their positions change and he is the one on top.
With a wink that does things to Castiel, Dean slowly slides down his body, pressing feather-light kisses and licking everywhere he can reach. It's drives Cas out of his fucking mind, and by the time Dean is face-to-cock, he is a whimpering mess. Thankfully, Dean is feeling merciful today, and he immediately sets to work. After a few tries, he has most of Cas's dick in his throat, swallowing a few times because he knows how much his partner loves that.
Let it never be said that Cas can't hold out, because damn, can the bastard ever. By the time he just starts showing signs of being close, Dean's jaw is aching and his throat is feeling a little sore. Still, he continues as if nothing is wrong, loving the sounds Cas makes and he thrusts his hips up.
"Dean," he cries. "Dean, st-stop, I'm gonna..."
Dean pulls up with a slurp, smirking when he looks at Castiel. Cas manages to roll his eyes, but it has no heat because he is still trying to catch his breath. Dean pushes himself up to press a sweet kiss against his beloved's lips.
"Did you restock the drawer?" Cas asks, still panting slightly.
"Despithe what you may think, I'm not totally incompetent," Dean snarks back as he reaches to open the nightstand drawer, earning a smack on the ass for his trouble.
He's still pretty loose from last night, so a few short jabs in his ass and Dean is ready to go. Cas has already rolled a condom on, so Dean just pours some lube on his fingers then smears it on Cas's dick. He's still on top of Cas, so Dean just easily lines up his partner's cock and slides home.
They both groan loudly at the same time, and it doesn't take long for Dean to start bouncing up and down like pro. Cas, forever the one to be in control of these things, grabs his stomach to keep Dean still and starts his own pace. He pistols his hips upwards at an almost inhuman speed, punching a strangled moan right out of Dean.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean chokes out. "Fuck!"
They're both very much on edge, so within a few minutes Dean feels his orgasm build. Cas is clearly in the same state, and, without breaking rhythm, hastily turns them both over so that Dean is now on the bottom. For some reason that's hot as fuck, and it only brings Dean that much closer to the edge. They're so close, so fucking close, and Dean is losing his fucking head because it's so good, so so so good-
But then the timer on his phone goes off for the laundry.
It surprises both of them, and Cas moans when Dean clenches around him. To Dean's great disappointment (and agitation), Cas completely stops fucking him, a thoughtful look on his face.
"Don't tell me you're going to stop now," Dean groans (more like whines, but he would deny it if you asked).
Cas bites his lip. "It would only take a minute..."
"Ca-aaas."
"I'll be right back."
And he slips out and leaves, just like that. Dean looks at the ceiling in shock, unable to believe that his boyfriend picked laundry over him. With a growl, Dean shoves himself off the bed and stomps to the laundry room.
"Fucking hell--you are going to finish what you started right now, or so help me Cas," Dean demands.
"Dean, just let me-"
"Uh-uh, pal, I said right now."
Castiel puts his hands up in surrender before, without warning, grabbing Dean's hips and leaning him over the washing machine. It takes literally zero seconds for Dean to come, losing it the second Cas pushes back in. He howls and Cas fucks him through it, quickly following Dean and shouting almost as loudly as him.
When they untangle, Cas nips his shoulder a few times, then chuckles in his ear. Dean pulls away and narrows his eyes in confusion at Cas's amusement, but he is only met with a finger pointed in the direction of the open door to the machine. When Dean turns around, his mouth drops open because his fucking come is drying on the wet clothes.
"I friggin' told you you should've just stayed in the bedroom," Dean tells Castiel. "Now we have to wash the load all over again."
"Oh no, forty-five minutes without any underwear! Whatever shall we do?" Cas asks in a mock-concerned tone, and, in a strange sense of deja-vu, gets his rear smacked for his comment.