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"What, my proving just a little bit earlier that I'm pretty damn good in bed, wasn't good enough?" he asks with an arched eyebrow as he rocks up against Dean harder. "I might be able to make a convincing argument if you let go of my wrist."

"Blowjob's not proof enough for me to just let you up there," he says, and honestly, there might not be enough liquor in the world for him to ever just roll over and let someone screw him like that. But he does let go of his wrist, giving a warning bite on his collarbone. "Convince me."

"Dean. Two thousand years of experience. Trust me, I know what I'm doing and how to avoid hurting the people I sleep with." There's a brief pause before a mischievous "Unless they're into that."

A quick snap of his fingers later to get them covered in lube, he's slowly pressing them in Dean before twisting his wrist and expertly seeking out Dean's prostate to give it a firm rub to illustrate a major benefit and motivation to be on the receiving end.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he murmurs, knowing damn well that the answer is 'yes' even though it's probably weird for Dean.

"Yeah, I'm not so much into that. Plenty of pain goin' on in every day life without bringin' it into the bedroom," he deadpans, trying not to tense up the second there's a press of fingers.

Instead he focuses on skin beneath his mouth and then the bright spark of pleasure that zips up his spine when Gabriel finds his mark. His fist slams against the bed and he lets out a strangled sound, which is just about all the angel is going to get in a way of an answer for the moment.

Gabriel thinks it's fairly safe to take that as a 'yes'. He grins and keeps rubbing while monitoring Dean's reactions, backing off when he judges it to be too much.

It shouldn't feel this good. He shouldn't be moaning with each new spot he hit with his fingers, or clutching at the bedsheets like they can keep him anchored.

At least he's not begging for him to not stop or to keep going or anything like that. True to his word, Gabriel isn't hurting him, and is holding off and going forward in just the right way.

His hips push back against the fingers, rolling to meet them, little noises escaping him as he does.

"So, has this convinced you yet?" he murmurs, continuing to rub Dean firmly inside. Even if it hasn't, seeing Dean lose himself to the sensations is worth it.

"Good...argument," Dean manages to grunt out in between gasps, once he figures out that Gabriel is actually talking to him. He pushes himself upright a little more, looking down at the other man, even as his hips keep rolling. "Pretty...damn convincing. Think I'm...good to go."

Better than begging Gabriel to use something bigger and more satisfying than just fingers. And who would have ever thought that he would want something like that? Certainly not Dean Winchester.

There's always a first time for everything. Gabriel's quite certain that Dean never expected to be on any sort of terms with an archangel, much less good ones.

Gabriel removes his fingers from Dean, a quick flick, disappearing the mess. "Gonna need you to move."

Gabriel's not married to the idea of any position in particular. Whichever one Dean wants is fine by him.

Well, now you're just going crazy with ideas there. Good terms? How about...somewhat civil and not about to stake him in the face terms, unless given a damn good reason to.

It takes another moment for Dean to register that he's been told to do something, and then one more moment for Dean to actually be able to move. He struggles, pushing himself upright the rest of the way before just giving up and rolling off of Gabriel and onto his back on the bed.

And he better not comment on how Dean's legs stay spread wide and welcoming, otherwise the pleasant haze won't last and Gabriel will be enjoying a nice case of extreme blue balls.

Given Dean's current location, Gabriel's fairly certain that the terms are a bit better than that. Not to mention that he knows when not to be a jackass, thank you.

A snap of Gabriel's fingers later, and there's a tube of lube for Gabriel to use as he settles between Dean's legs to work on him. He coats a couple of fingers before reinserting them in Dean, this time with the purpose of preparing him for more than just fingers. It only takes him a couple of minutes to have Dean ready to his satisfaction, at which point he slicks himself up and lines himself up before slowly pressing his way in.

Once fully sheathed in Dean, he pauses to give Dean time to adjust before starting the first slow roll of his hips forwards.

He can't think about it too much. Can't think about the fact that there is another man putting his dick where he hadn't thought seriously about a dick going before. Because said dick is making him groan, sucking in sharp breaths, as his eyes roll back in his head.

The pause gives him just the right amount of time for whatever discomfort there is to vanish when Gabriel is moving and even just the small shift of his hips hits him with amazing friction and now his eyes nearly cross. He grasps at the bed sheets again.

"Fuck, Gabe..."

Gabriel smiles and lowers his head to press a kiss on Dean as he gradually increases the pace and force of his thrusts. He knows that Dean needs the slow build up to give his body time to get used to what's going on, as this was entirely new for him.

The kiss is met by Dean pressing up into it, and he even manages to release the abused sheets with one hand so he can wrap an arm around Gabriel. He digs his heels into the back of Gabriel's thighs, urging him on silently before he breaks the kiss with a gasp and a gritted, "'m not gonna break, Gabriel."

"No one said you would," Gabriel points out with a raised eyebrow even as he snaps his hips forwards faster and harder. Dean apparently wants more, so he's getting it. Even so, he's paying close attention to make sure Dean doesn't end up deciding he's changed his mind and that it's too much too soon.

"Better," Dean groans, eyes shutting in the pleasure of the picked up pace, as well as in the fact that he actually got Gabriel to listen to him. Small victories where he can get them.

After a few thrusts, his other hand moves between them, taking hold of his hard-on and stroking it in time with Gabriel's snapping hips. He is vaguely aware of the angel's eyes watching him carefully, and he doesn't like that. He wants Gabriel to get lost in it, to lose control, to let go, but that might be a challenge for another time. For now, he's the one getting lost in it and he can only make those low noises of enjoyment.

Does Dean seriously want a guy that basically has super strength to lose control and not monitor how much he's using in this kind of situation? Gabriel is quite certain that the answer is 'no' if Dean stops to think about it.

Gabriel adjusts his angle slightly to find the best one for Dean. If he does his job right, Dean won't need his hand to come.

Remember, this is Dean Winchester. Brilliance isn't always connected to common sense in his case.

Dean's back arches off the bed when one particular movement sends a spark of heat straight up his spine and he lets out a shout. Whatever angle that is, Gabriel's got it right. He's almost babbling now, urging Gabriel to do that again, do whatever the hell that was again.

Gabriel is more than happy to oblige, thrusting with renewed vigor and hitting where Dean wants him to every time. He could feel his own rising need, but he keeps a tight rein on it, not wanting to come before he gets Dean to do so again.

At this point, Dean is reduced to a babbling, cursing mess. The pending orgasm is there, but he barely registers it, only recognizing it as growing pleasure that he wants more of. His hips rock hard to meet Gabriel's thrusts as best as he can, but there's no real rhythm or finesse to it.

When the orgasm hits, it has him tensing from head to toe, eyes rolling back in his head as he spatters hot over his and Gabriel's stomachs and chests.

And there it is. It's only a few more thrusts into Dean later that finds Gabriel coming with a low moan, shudders running down his back. Rather than stop his thrusts right away, he gradually slows to a stop, grinning down at Dean as he waits for him to piece himself back together. "So, worth it?"

It takes a few long moments before Dean's mind returns to any semblance of coherency. The slowing down of thrusts and rolling hips is like the final cherry on top of a huge ice cream sundae, and his body shivers through the aftershocks of it. He distantly realizes that Gabriel is talking to him, then spies that smug grin on his face and all he can do is push a hand lazily against that grinning face, mumbling something that might be 'Shut the hell up,' or 'Mmhrugh.'

He's too blissed out to really care, to be honest.

Gabriel laughs. "I'm gonna take that as a 'yes'."

Okay, he'll be nice and let Dean finish pulling himself together before talking anymore. He lets his weight actually rest on Dean properly now, folding his arms on Dean's chest to rest his chin on them.

Dean handles Gabriel's weight easily--even if he can be an immovable force of nature, he's still in a smaller body--and settles back against the bed, boneless and completely sated.

"Mmph," is the response he gets now, as Dean's eyes close for a while and his breathing slows, then steadies. It's a sign of how out of it he is that his hand strokes absently over Gabriel's back as he returns to some coherency. It takes some time, but eventually he does manage to speak properly.

"Hate to see what it's like when you're really tryin' to impress."

"My bed-partners might be going to sleep pretty soon after I'm done with them those times," he points out in an amused tone. As Dean's awake enough to talk, obviously Gabriel didn't put him through as much as those cases. That would be overdoing it for Dean's first time with another guy, Gabriel figures.

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