weary_head | (no subject)

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It was the clothes box's fault.

Really.

Tired of his own threadbare collection, Dean had been digging for underwear, hand thrust elbow deep into the clothing box. He didn't expect his fingers to land upon satin. He sure didn't expect to pull said satin out and find it took the form of panties.

"Ho-ly shit," Dean exhaled, pulling them out to stretch in front of him. They were a few sizes too large for Angua, and that was a damn shame. He liked satin panties. Pink satin ones in particular, which, come to think of it, he thought he'd seen in Angua's clothes drawer back at the hut, though they'd yet to make an appearance on her body. And Angua was out on patrol.

This presented Dean with some intriguing possibilities.

Forgetting his own shortage of boxers, Dean booked it back to the hut, crossing straight to their room and opening the door. No one was inside, and Dean went to the dresser, looking around one last time before he pulled the top drawer open.

And there they were.

Pink satin panties, right on top, silky and alluring in the same way Rhonda Hurley's had been when she'd made him...Dean brought that line of thinking to a halt, clamping down hard on a nervous giggle.

Still.

He was here.

And they were here.

Reaching down, Dean brushed a finger over the smooth material, blushing to the roots of his hair even as he began to grin.

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Angua never knocked when she came home and went to the bedroom. Truth be told, she and Dean were both so busy that the only time they really hung around in the bedroom was when they were in there together.

Still, Angua liked to keep things exciting, always hoping to find Dean with his pants down, or reading romance novels, or something unexpected.

It looked like today she was getting her wish.

There Dean stood, holding a pair of her panties up to himself like he wondered if they'd fit, grinning.

"This is certainly a new development," she said, eyebrow raised.

Dean jumped so high that had the ceiling been any lower, he'd have knocked himself out.

"What!" he blurted, clutching the panties to himself before he thought better of it and hid them behind his back. "These are nice!" Jesus, why couldn't he stop shouting? "For you!"

Angua's mouth made a small o of surprise.

"Wow." She closed the door behind her without taking her eyes off Dean. Her lips slowly rose into a smirk. "Every time I think I have you figured out, you surprise me."

She slinked over to him, encircling his waist with her arms until she could grab the panties from behind him. She let out a short laugh and held the panties up against Dean's crotch as he'd been doing before she walked in. "They might just fit," she said, speculative.

Dean followed her gaze. "Probably not," he said. It was hard not to squirm with her hands pressed there, right where he was already half hard. "Satin doesn't stretch so well."

He paused. "According to Sam. He had an unhealthy interest in textiles."

"Why don't we give it a try anyway?" Angua murmured, reaching for the button of Dean's pants. She unsnapped, unzipped, and reached a hand in, letting out a soft exhale to find him half hard. She hadn't been sure if he was seriously interested or not, and kept pushing either way, figuring if he wasn't they could have a laugh, and if he was, well...

"You want me to put'em on?" Dean asked, biting down hard on his lower lip at her touch. His voice was blank, and carefully so. "That's pretty kinky, baby, even for us."

"They're just panties, Dean," Angua said, looking up at him through her lashes. She cupped him through his boxers, her touch soft, voice softer. "I always wear them for you."

"'Cause they look good on you," Dean breathed. His heart felt ready to hammer out of his chest, adrenaline spiking through him so hard he was dizzy with it.

So he'd worn a pair of pink satin panties for a girl, way back when. And he'd liked it a little. They'd been silky and smooth, warming to his body heat instantly and squeezing around him like a fist. What dude wouldn't be into that?

That didn't mean he was ready to jump back in dick first. Wearing a woman's panties was bound to change him in her eyes. "Jesus, Angua," Dean groaned. He'd do anything for her, but he liked to avoid looking like a jackass when he could help it. "Are you into this?"

Angua paused, the palm of her left hand resting on Dean's chest. She slowly raised the other until it hovered over Dean's belly button instead of his cock.

She'd only suggested it because she thought he wanted it, but did she, really? She tried to imagine Dean in her panties. She had to admit, the visual seemed kind of absurd at first, but if it'd make Dean blush like this, coupled with the way his dick would feel under something so smooth and soft?

"Yes," she said, biting her lip. "Unless it makes you uncomfortable."

"Gonna be a tight squeeze," said Dean, cracking a grin now. It was crazy. They were so fucking crazy.

He felt better than he had in months.

He kissed her hair, running his hands down her back until he reached her ass. "Got a shoe horn on you?"

Angua returned the grin, and laughed. "I think you're giving yourself a little too much credit," she said with a significant look down.

She covered Dean's hands with hers and pulled them away. "This one's mine." So maybe she had a dominant streak, and liked to be in control every now and then. But she had a feeling that sometimes, Dean liked it too.

"Hey," said Dean without any real heat, holding still and watching her hands as they moved over him. Christ, even the whisper of denim when her fingertips brushed against his jeans turned him on. "Don't insult the man you're about to stuff into panties. I feel degraded enough."

"Aw, I was kidding. Trust me, sweetheart, I have no complaints," Angua said, directing Dean backwards toward the bed. She took the panties from him. "Now, clothes off."

Dean set his ass against the bed, peeling his button down away from his shoulders. The tank was next, and Dean would've made a show of it, knowing how she enjoyed that sometimes, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the panties.

They were so...small. "Jesus," he said again, flopping onto his back to wriggle out of his jeans.

Angua held the panties between her teeth and her lower lip as she shrugged out of her clothes, making short work of them. She never took her eyes off Dean, feeling a thrill at what they were about to do.

She wished she had something nicer on under her clothes, but being that she'd just been out on patrol she had a simple bra and boy's underwear.

It was kind of funny.

"Put them on," she said, tossing the panties at Dean.

They landed on his belly, cool in patches and warm in others, and Dean bit back a groan. He closed his hand around them and sat up, eyes widening again to see how short the waistband was.

"Man, they were a lot bigger the last time I did this," he murmured, sticking his feet through the legholes. "Or I was smaller."

Angua stopped in her endeavor to undress.

"Last time? Oh, Dean, what haven't you been telling me?" she asked with a smile that looked like she was two seconds from eating him up.

"Dude, I was young, and this chick was mercenary," Dean grunted. He got the panties as far as his knees before he hit a snag. Stupid legs didn't want to come together, bowing stubbornly outward. "Wouldn't let me go down on her until I did a cheer in her underwear."

Angua wanted to laugh, but it wasn't happening, not while she was tracking the panties progress up Dean's legs.

"You knew some interesting girls. I promise I won't make you do a cheer, but you can do that other thing," she said, taking a few steps forward.

"Oh yeah," said Dean. He tried lying back, squeezing his legs together to get them higher on his thighs, which seemed to be working.

"Oral sex from your boyfriend in his pink satin underpants. Whose panties wouldn't that set on fire?"

Angua leaned forward, bracing her hands on Dean's knees.

"Don't. You are so hot, Dean. I love that you're doing this," she murmured, inching her way up his body to straddle his legs.

When a woman like Angua straddled a man, there wasn't much else he could do but watch, and Dean's fingers stilled around the panties, now finally, tightly stretched over his hips.

"If I'd've known you'd be so into this I'd have raided the panties drawer sooner," he said, voice gone rough. "Draw the line at a bra, though. Also, nighties."

Angua grinned, tongue peeking out to lick at the corner of her mouth, like she was hungry for it. "You don't have anything to fill out a bra, unlike..." She reached down, cupping him through the panties. "This." She stroked lightly up and down, teasing.

Dean's head pushed back against the sheets, mouth open in a gasp as the satin pressed in around him. She was only teasing, but god, it was good, each stroke making Dean harder, stretching the silky material tighter over him. "That's," he managed, "wow. That's a lot. A-already."

"Mm, you like it?" Angua asked, the question rhetorical, and she didn't wait for an answer before making her way back down Dean's legs until she could crouch above him. She lowered her head, slowly mouthing her way down Dean's chest, down his stomach, dragging her teeth when she got to the edge of the panties.

"Tell me how much you like it," she said, looking up at him.