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Sam had asked him, not long after he and Dean had finally gotten together, if it bothered him. How Dean went from uncomfortable hugs and shoulder claps to the constant touching that there was now. Castiel had been puzzled by the question. Why would he be averse to the touch of the one he held above all else?
Castiel realized later that Sam didn’t understand. After the fight with the Darkness, Cas had been given a choice - return to heaven or stay on earth with the Winchesters, with Dean, and eventually become human. Of course, he’d chosen to stay with Dean.
Before he had gradually begun to lose his powers, Cas had been able to feel Dean’s longing. Not quite a prayer, because his beloved would never be that bold, but a soul-deep yearning, every time they were together. Every time they parted. Every cold, lonely night when Dean was working a case, stuck in a dingy motel in the middle of nowhere. Castiel had felt it, like an extension of his own body, of his grace. Perhaps an echoing of the small bit that was left behind when Castiel gripped Dean tight and raised him from perdition.
Cas had learned through the longing and not quite prayers that Dean was well aware of his feelings for Cas. But he had not been ready to accept them. Still, Castiel had felt it just the same, Dean’s want, his desire, his all-encompassing craving to just be in Castiel’s proximity. It had been like a blanket that had covered him at all times. When he had felt weak and weary, when he had been fighting heaven’s wars with Hannah, he had selfishly taken comfort in that longing. He had wrapped himself in it like he used to wrap himself in his wings to ward off a chill. Before they had become battered and broken and charred.
It was something he had counted on, that longing. The feeling of being needed, wanted, loved, even if it was unspoken.
The day the final vestiges of his grace had disappeared had been both bittersweet and heart-wrenching. Though he had Dean’s love - spoken now - losing that constant call to his grace from Dean‘s soul had been a sucker punch. It had leveled him, creating a phantom ache. It had been rough going for a few days after that.
Dean had been wracked with guilt, despite Castiel’s insistence that this was his choice. Dean, always so quick to take on the pain of the few he held in his heart, hadn’t understood that it was his soul that Castiel missed the most. Of course Castiel missed his wings - tattered though they had been. His ability to heal, that was one that had been hard to let go of, considering the Winchesters’ penchant for getting into trouble and the amount of times they gravely injured themselves on a weekly basis.
Reminding Dean that he had to take more care was a constant source of contention between the lovers. Dean always rushing in without thinking drove Castiel mad. Dean was getting better about it, but his disregard for his own safety still was the theme of ninety percent of their arguments. So for that reason, Castiel definitely did miss his healing ability. But seeing and feeling Dean’s soul? That loss he felt like a missing limb.
Dean, without realizing it, had begun to soothe that ache by becoming more tactile. He had become much more comfortable with sharing intimate touches in public, to the point where there was almost always some part of their bodies in contact when they were in the same room. When they first officially got together, the majority of physical contact happened, unsurprisingly, or, according to Sam, fortunately - in the bedroom. In their bed, behind closed doors, Dean would map Castiel's body with his hands and for a little while it was like being able to sense Dean’s longing again. He could feel it in the rake of Dean’s nails down his back. It was in the way Dean cupped Cas’ face as they sipped from each other’s lips, as though dying from thirst. It was in the way Dean clasped Castiel against him, as though he would crawl inside of him if he could. Instead of internal cries and heartfelt prayers, Dean showed Castiel with his actions how the craving was still there. And little by little these intimate moments began to heal the wound Cas’ loss of grace had left behind.
Dean had slowly started allowing himself to show this softer side outside of the bedroom and around others aside from Sam, who had never given Dean a cause to feel awkward (though there had been some teasing along the lines of thank-Chuck-finally). Holding hands at the table, in the car, eventually walking through the local Walmart on supply runs. Hand holding eventually moved over to make room for an arm slung over the shoulders, then gentle kisses to the forehead, cheeks and lips. Now when they went to a diner and Dean casually flirted with the waitress, it was with Cas tucked up tightly against his side. Castiel didn’t think that Sam realized how freeing it was for his brother, being so casually affectionate in public, especially with another male. Dean never said it, but Castiel knew that he was touch-starved, and he was more than willing to feed that need.
Sam, he wasn't like that. Even though he had grown up without his mother, and had been raised - barely - by John Winchester, Sam had never gone without affection. Dean had provided that for him. It was Dean who had soothed Sam’s hurts. Dean had been the one who had chased Sam’s nightmares away with a song or a warm embrace. Dean, who had always been and still was always there when Sam needed him to be. To be the mother and father neither one of them had had. But aside from Bobby, no one had been there for Dean. Now that was Cas’ job.
All of the attention that Dean had given to Sam growing up? Castiel provided that for Dean now. He lavished him with love and affection both spoken and silent. Cas answered Dean’s exploring fingers by taking journeys with his own. Cas created constellations out of the freckles on Dean’s skin, with fingers and lips. He played music on Dean’s body with the slick slip and slide when stroking into him or inviting Dean into his own warmth. Dean sought a touchstone and Castiel eagerly provided one. He was the anchor the hunter needed, held in place by the unwavering devotion of his heart and steadiness of his gaze. A gaze when which caught, showed the mossy depths flecked with gold, and Castiel would swear in those moments that he could see a flicker of that soul.The soul that, as an angel, he’d been able to see and feel with perfect clarity.
So when Sam passed by their open bedroom doorway at twilight and asked the question again, if Dean’s constant invasion of personal space - and wasn’t that ironic - was bothersome, Cas just carded his fingers through the burnt honey hair of Dean’s head resting on his chest. Castiel raised his head to meet Sam’s eyes, as the taller Winchester watched them with a soft expression on his face. A Dr. Sexy marathon played in the background as Castiel continued to recline with Dean draped over him, the warmth seeping into Cas’ skin as the man slept on through Sam’s quiet words and Castiel’s petting. Sam stood, brow quirked as he waited for an answer and Castiel’s mouth pulled up in a fond, lopsided smile.
“Never. It could never bother me,” Castiel whispered, which seemed to satisfy Sam as his mouth turned up in an answering smile before he closed the door and let them be.
Castiel felt the air change as Dean stirred. Cas didn’t slow in his scalp massage and Dean moaned against Cas’ skin at the sensation of his scratching fingers. He arched his back, leaning into the touch before opening one sleepy eye. A tender smile stole across Dean’s face as their eyes met.
“Heya, Cas,” Dean’s voice, raspy from sleep, rumbled out and Castiel brought his hands down to stroke his thumbs across the freckles on the bridge of his nose.
“Hello, ol monons.”
Dean grinned like he always did at the use of the Enochian endearment. “You’re a good sport, you know,” Dean said softly, taking the opportunity to nuzzle his cheek against Cas’ stubble and the former angel sighed in contentment.
“Oh yes? Why is that?”
Dean shifted so that he was partially on his side before manhandling Cas until he was enfolded against him, Dean’s lips mouthing at Castiel’s bare shoulder.
“You let me be all gross and clingy,” Dean said as he peppered kisses to the nape of Cas’ neck.
“Yes,” Cas deadpanned, “you can see it’s a real hardship.”
Dean chuckled against Castiel’s shoulder blades.
“Yeah, well, I guess it’s still a novelty to me. Holding you and not having to let go. Waiting for you to disappear with some half-assed goodbye.”
Dean’s eyelashes fluttered against Cas’ skin and he shivered. Castiel snuggled back against Dean and he could feel the static charge as their flannel-clad legs tangled together. He jerked as he felt Dean’s big toe zap against his ankle, making them both chuckle.
“In two months we will have our one year anniversary,” Castiel said, trying to keep his tone light. Dean nuzzled behind his ear, his warm breath tickling him deliciously.
“Mmm, really?” he paused, and Castiel knew Dean was thinking back to that day. The day that they had battled back the darkness and Dean had thrown all reservations out the window for that one moment and had stridden over to Castiel, yanking him in and plundering his mouth. That night Dean had finally given voice to what had been buried inside.
“Yes. It was a memorable day, was it not?” Castiel said coyly and Dean laid a gentle, sucking kiss along Cas’ neck.
“Maybe we should go somewhere, take a roadtrip,“ Dean said and Castiel twisted in his embrace. Dean eased back enough so that Cas could turn over and look at his favorite freckled face. He tunneled his fingers through Dean's soft hair and bit his lip, a move that he knew drove Dean just a little bit crazy.
“Just the two of us?” Cas asked, with a raised brow and an attempt at a sultry look which apparently failed spectacularly and made Dean laugh affectionately, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Of course that left Cas with no choice but to reach out and lovingly trace the lines.
“Yeah, just the two of us. People don't generally bring other people along on their anniversaries, Cas.”
Castiel ‘hmph’d’ at him. “I have never had an anniversary before, Dean,” Castiel stated primly. “How would I know proper relationship etiquette in regards to copulation commemoration excursions?”
Dean’s whole body shook with laughter and Castiel smiled widely. He could never be against Dean having a moment of joy, even at his expense. Dean propped himself up and looked down at Cas, and sighed loudly. “I swear, you do that on purpose.”
“Perhaps,” Castiel admitted and Dean snickered softly at the confession.
“But seriously, Cas. Is there any place you wanna go? Anything you didn’t already get to see when you still had your teleporting powers?” Castiel recognized the Harry Potter reference for what it was, Dean trying to be sensitive by not directly asking about his wings and flying. He gave himself a moment to think before answering.
“I’d like to see the Grand Canyon and camp under the stars with you. We have that dual sleeping bag, after all,” Cas said. They’d had a case in New Hampshire that past summer and Dean had introduced Cas to the fun side of camping...and sleeping bag sex.
“Oh yeah? That sounds doable. I’m surprised though. You never never saw the Grand Canyon before?” Dean asked, surprise infused in his voice.
“I’ve never seen it with you,” Cas answered, “which makes it like the first time.”
Dean blushed attractively and kissed Cas’ nose. “You sap.”
Castiel threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair again, and pulled his beloved down to his face..
“See what you‘ve turned me into?” he whispered, a breath away from Dean’s perfect lips. Cas didn’t wait for an answer, just licked into that delectable mouth, tongues sliding together in a delicious tangle. Breath caught and sighs escaped as they drank from each other languidly. The television played on in the background as their embrace tightened. Castiel arched as Dean’s lips trailed down away from his lips to suck a bruise onto his neck. Dean had a soft spot for that area just above the collarbone and he lavished it with attention. Castiel felt that slow simmer of arousal that was always present get stronger at the press of Dean’s body against his, at the wet heat of Dean’s mouth on his skin.
Cas trailed his fingers up Dean’s back, digging in reflexively as Dean made his way down to the tight buds of his nipples. He moaned softly as Dean laved at one peak before nipping around where Castiel knew he had a small, dark freckle that the hunter favored. His stomach quivered as his love tugged at the other bud and he could feel Dean smile against his skin as the sensation pulled a low groan from Cas. Dean glanced up at Cas and winked at him lasciviously, moving so that he was straddling Castiel’s waist.
Dean thumbed at Cas’ hipbones, another favorite, and Castiel reached up a hand to trace around Dean’s tattoo. They caressed each other gently, knowing the spots that made each other sigh and tremble. The light was too dark to discern color, but Cas could still see the gleam in Dean's eyes and their gazes locked, lips curved up in soft smiles. It wasn’t always fast and harried with them; sometimes it was just like this, gentle, and unhurried. Dean bent down for another lingering kiss before maneuvering backwards.The thumbs that had been playing on his sharp hip bones now hooked under the waistband of Cas’ sleep pants. Dean gave him a pointed look and Castiel lifted his hips so Dean could tug the soft material down. Cas’ cock was filling rapidly and he bent his knees so Dean could pull the clothing the rest of the way off. Cas felt himself twitching under the heat of Dean’s stare. Dean ran his hands down Cas’ thighs, pushing them apart so he could settle in between his legs.
“Wait,” Cas whispered, voice hoarse with need. “You too. Take them off, please.”
Dean’s mouth quirked in amusement, “If you insist.”
Cas licked his lips and nodded. He sighed when Dean settled back in, kneeling between the open vee of Cas’ legs, light dusting of hair brushing enticingly against the inside of his thighs. Dean dragged his hand down to brush aganst Cas’ dark curls before lightly tracing his length. Castiel felt his cock jump at the touch and fought the urge to arch up. Dean’s free hand searched for his on the bed and their fingers laced. His other hand took Cas loosely in his fist and began to stroke softly. Dean’s thumb swept across the tip of Cas’ cock, dragging the wetness that was beginning to leak out, around the head. Dean scooted back more, still gripping Cas’ hand and bent his head forward to tongue at Cas’ slit. He hissed at the feeling and once again had to hold himself in check. The first time Dean had done this to him, Cas had come after a few soft licks and a suckle to the head. The sensation had just been too much, miles more intense than his time with April had been. Though when he had mentioned it to Sam, he said - after choking on his coffee because discussing sexual things about one’s boyfriend with said boyfriend’s brother was apparently not appropriate - he had said it was probably because Dean was someone he loved and not just a random stranger. Cas suspected he was correct.
He also suspected it was because Dean was a genius with his tongue. Cas’ eyes rolled back as Dean took him fully in his mouth, sliding up and down, stroking what he couldn’t swallow with his calloused hand, the friction almost too much.
Cas soon couldn’t keep still and found his hips making shallow upward thrusts and Dean hummed around him, encouraging the movement. He could feel Dean’s own hard length brushing against his thigh, the wet head smearing precome across his skin and Cas shuddered at the feeling. His thrusting movements grew faster as did the bobbing of Dean’s head. Cas pushed up again and Dean swallowed around him and that was enough to have him spilling down Dean’s throat with a litany of “ ah,ah,ah, norami ascha, norami ascha, Dean. ” Cas’ legs shook with the force of his climax and he panted in short bursts as he came down. He hadn't realized he’d closed his eyes until he heard the slick sounds of Dean’s hand on his own flesh. He opened them quickly, eager to watch as Dean brought himself off. His dick gave a valiant twitch as he watched Dean pause his strokes, leaning over Castiel to reach into the nightstand for the astroglide. He added a bit to his precome-slicked hand to help ease the way. The wet sound of Dean’s fist jerking his cock was obscenely erotic. Their gazes caught and held as Dean’s hand moved faster, a blur in the semi darkness of the room. His other hand, still laced with Cas’, flexed tightly as he chased his release.
“ Niis , my love, Niis lap ol .”
Dean arched and groaned, low and deep as warm liquid spurted out and splashed on Cas’ stomach. Cas gripped Dean’s hand tight as his hips stuttered to a stop. Dean breathed heavily as he sank back on his heels. Castiel reached over with his unoccupied hand to dig the wet wipes out of the nightstand. He pulled one out of the container and used it to clean up the cooling come on his stomach. Dean shakily took the dirty wipe from his fingers and tossed it into the waste paper basket next to the bed.
Dean fell forward and caged Cas’ head between his forearms and Cas could see the sheen of sweat on his brow. Cas brushed it away with his thumbs as Dean’s mouth descended upon his. This kiss was gentle and deep, tongues undulating softly together, a sinuous wave of movement. It was the kind of kiss that echoed in the soul and made Castiel’s heart trip. They didn’t break apart until Cas’ lips were tingling. Dean rested his forehead against Cas’ as they soaked in the tender moment. Eyes locked and Dean murmured a quiet “I love you,” and Castiel echoed it back before turning on his side, reaching a hand back in invitation for Dean to spoon up behind him. Castiel found himself pulled back tightly against his lover's warm chest and Dean tugged up the thick red comforter to settle around their waists.
“The Grand Canyon, huh? You’re sure?” Dean asked, voice taking on a dreamy quality and Castiel smiled.
“Mm hmm.”
“S’date then.”
As Cas drifted off, he once again thought about his powers, how there would have been a time when he would have just grasped Dean by the shoulder and taken him to where they wanted to go in the blink of an eye. Some rapid beats of his wings and they could have been standing on the edge of that historic landmark. Instead, there would be loud music, diner food, and high priced fuel. There would be laced hands, rest area make-out sessions and wind blowing through Baby’s open windows. There would be making love underneath the stars as they came apart against each other like waves breaking on the rocks.
As Dean clutched Cas to him, molding his body to Cas’ form, arms locking around to keep him close, Castiel smiled in anticipation. He knew that despite what he had lost, what he had gained in return made it all worth it. So he couldn’t hear Dean’s longing anymore. That was okay, because Cas didn’t need to hear prayers anymore to know that he was needed, wanted and loved. He just needed Dean’s arms around him, holding him close.
The end.