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Another anonymous motel in another random city. Or, better, on the skirt of it, in the middle of nothing, lights far away from that God-forsaken place. Good people didn't stay in places like that, the carpet probably never been cleaned in the last decade and the blankets covered in things Dean didn't even want to guess. But he wasn't a good person, he barely felt like a person at all, if he had to be honest, and he was still fresh from admitting he was more of a killer than of a good father. The alternative being he was like his father, the killer option sounded less scary somehow.
Looking at the far lights one last time, Dean finished salting the windowsill, pulling the curtains closed.
He needed a shower and a bottle of liquor. Maybe a bottle while under the shower, he wasn't sure he could function sober long enough for that bad pressurized, warmish water. It was a miracle he could function at all, everything was starting to feel fuzzy at the edges. Probably the cheap whiskey and lack of sleep. Maybe that once more his whole life collapsed onto itself and he was left alone to put together pieces that didn't seem to fit.
A low swish interrupted his short travel to the bag with clean clothes. He knew that sound well and somehow it always felt comforting, even in the darkest times.
"Hello, Dean," voice low and rough. So warm and familiar. Dean's eyes closed for a moment, basking in the feeling before he turned.
"Cas. I thought you were very busy with the war," he said. It sounded somewhere between a fact and an accusation. A pang of guilt hit him. Cas had been right, he wasn't the only one with problems, the angel was fighting a war in Heaven.
"I am, but it's going even worse than I expected," Cas said, sounding defeated.
"I'm sorry?" More of a question than an affirmation, Dean wasn't sure what one said in those cases. Sure he knew there had been nothing he'd have wanted to hear while losing his war with Lucifer and Michael, "can I do something? Search clues for some weapon or…" Castiel interrupted him by shaking his head.
"I'm not here for help, Dean. I'm not running either,"
"I never thought…" but Cas didn't let him talk.
"Raphael and his army are very focused on finding me, as long as I stay on Earth my brothers will have time to regroup and take a breath," he explained, his fingers moving into quotation marks.
"So the room is about to be swarmed by an army of angry angels wanting you dead?" Dean was too tired and defeated to feel scared. Rationally he knew he should have been angry at Castiel for bringing that to him, but emotionally a mortal battle against evil angels sounded better than his thoughts, at the moment.
"No, Dean. I heavily warded the whole building against angels and they have no idea where I am. I stayed away from you for two days to be sure not to lead them here," Dean nodded, half grateful, half disappointed. Back to the shower and bottle, then.
"And why did you get here, then?" He asked roughly. The angel didn't seem to catch the tone, he was rusty on people, more angelic, if that was a thing, than before.
"Where is Sam?"
"If you're searching for him, you're out of luck. He's somewhere, away from me and the possibility of getting his soul back. Probably killing something or paying for a quick fuck, not that I care," Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, then finally reached for the bottle and took a gulp. Sam was one of the things he didn't want to think about tonight. One of the rubble that fell on him and he didn't know how to put it back together.
"I was searching for you, and I was hoping to find you alone," Castiel nodded. Cryptic bastard as always.
"And here I am, as alone as I've ever been and even still too sober for my own good!" For a second Dean wondered if Castiel could read the bitterness in his voice and when the angel slightly bent his neck, like he was watching at some odd insect, he guessed probably he could.
"Good," Castiel said, satisfied, and Dean wanted to punch him. There was nothing good. Not necessarily about that, more in general, about his whole life, "I have a situation I need you to help with," Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Cas stopped him by raising a finger, "it's not about angels or the war, it's personal and you're the only human I could ask. I would ask," he corrected himself.
Dean frowned. He didn't exactly feel like he could help someone with human stuff, everything he touched turned into something spoiled and rotten. He didn't say that, instead he took another gulp from the bottle and gestured for Castiel to go on.
"Apparently I'm spending too much time in this human body and its biology won't be totally erased by my Grace,"
"Ok, stop here. It's too late and I'm too tired, simple words, Cas, and straight to the point," Dean interrupted, taking a step back to lean against the table. He was tired, mentally even more than physically, and he couldn't think of dealing with the enigmatic ways of the Angel.
"The pizza man…thing…wasn't the first or last time that my body reacted in that odd way," Cas was getting out of his comfort zone, the topic getting difficult and confusing for him, and Dean fought not to roll his eyes.
"You mean you sometimes pop a boner? Good news, you're a real boy now, Cas," Dean joked.
Great, the bad night just started to turn into something unreal, like always. For most of his life, he had thought monsters were the most absurd thing, then he had met Castiel and started to interact with him on a nearly daily basis and damn, that's when his life had turned even more absurd.
"They're annoying to get rid of and the longer they stay the more… vulnerable they make me?" He finished, uncertain of the feeling.
Dean sighed. He really needed more alcohol for that, but if he had managed to give the talk to Sam when he was a kid and survived, he probably could do that with Castiel too. What could go wrong explaining to an angel that he needed to rub one off? Part of his brain yelled "everything", given lately nothing seemed to go the right way, but Dean wasn't good at listening to the part of his brain that used to warn him of incoming catastrophes coming from his actions. He sighed.
"When it happens you find a private place, use your hand until you feel good and the boner will go away," it felt like a good explanation, simple and straight to the point.
"You're talking about masturbation," Cas said, thoughtful.
"Yes, Cas, so I guess you know what it is, why are you asking this stuff to me, then?"
"I tried that. It didn't give me much satisfaction," Castiel gave as an explanation. He looked nervous, slightly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, something Dean had never seen before.
"Sorry, man. Guess it takes a while to get…what you like and how," was he really talking to Castiel about jerking off? Dean rubbed at his eyes with two fingers, he felt a headache coming in. He almost missed the good old times of an impending apocalypse.
"No, Dean. This vessel is empty now, it's ruled by my Grace, but apparently, when stuck in this human form there are certain things I can't ignore. But with the added Grace," Dean shook his head.
"You lost me. Actually, I wouldn't want to know about your jerking off, it's not something you share with other dudes, but sure I have no idea how angelic Grace fits in…that," he vaguely gestured at Castiel's legs. He was out of his depth now but damn if he was going to blush or show how freaked out he was starting to get. It was just sex, Dean loved sex, he had a lot of that, he was an expert, and he could deal with talking about it, even if the counterpart was his friend.
"Mechanic satisfaction of a biological urge won't help me. I tried, I'm not used to human stuff but I'm not ignorant, but a few moments later the problem is back," Castiel was openly nervous at that point, Dean could read him well by now and he knew that face, the one the Angel got when he wanted to lead him to something without plainly saying it. That wasn't good. Dean couldn't deal with that right now, it was suddenly turning too difficult, too much about not just sex and he didn't care about angelic biology or whatever that was about, he just wanted to see the bottom of the bottle and sleep for a few days. But he knew he couldn't resist Castiel, his soft spot, so he took the bait.
"All right, find a woman. You take away the accountant suit, you're hot enough to find someone at a bar, for free. Just don't mention her father and don't punish her like the pizza man and the babysitter, unless she asks for it, at least" Dean nodded, satisfied with his pep talk, sure years before he had said something similar to Sam, except at the time he had gotten a disgusted frown and a few chosen words from the ever romantic teen.
"You're not listening to me, Dean," Castiel had a new spark in his eyes, something closer to what Dean had seen the firsts times they had met, that light that had let him know the angel could have easily smitten him.
"Ok, I don't get it. You can't jerk off, you don't want to find a woman… what's the problem?" Dean sighed, a little exasperated. He had seen Castiel kissing Meg and he looked like he had a good idea of what to do. Sure, sex learned from porno was never a good idea, but better than him peeping on real people going at it. Actually, Dean was glad he hadn't had sex in a while, he could easily imagine Castiel appearing there in the middle of it, his usual neutral and confused stare…nope, it had been bad enough the few times Sam had caught him, he was sure he couldn't deal with explaining to an angel why it was bad to appear and stare while someone is in the middle of fucking.
"The problem is that my body reacts to my Grace, to what it wants," Castiel raised his eyebrows like he just said the more obvious thing in the world.
"Man, your Grace reacted to a bad spanking porno and to kissing a demon and…" Dean started to joke, but Castiel stopped him with a low grunt, an almost dangerous sound.
"No. I could get the appeal of those movies, even of kissing a woman, but every time my body reacted was my Grace reacting to you being around, Dean," the angel admitted, looking down to his once polished shoes, now covered in dirt and probably blood.
Dean tried to gulp, starting to cough when saliva went down the wrong pipe. That must have been a joke. Or a nightmare. Maybe it was a jinn or something. It wasn't possible that his closest friend, and an angel, was, out of the blue, confessing he got hard for him.
"No, ok, I get it, it's all so new to you, so confusing after eternity just looking at us, so it's normal you… and then there’s that special bond thing because you raised me from Hell…" Dean started, voice a little rough from the coughing fit and the panic rising from his chest. Maybe it was one of Gabriel's tricks.
"Dean, I'm talking about my Grace reacting to your Soul. I can't be wrong. And my body more than obviously reacts to you too" Cas's voice, his usual tone, tried to soothe him, hands slightly raised like in front of a feral animal.
"No, you don't know what you're saying. And if you do, then I'm sorry, man, but you better work it out of your head or Grace or whatever, because…no…I don't swing that way," Dean was overtly panicking, he knew that his fight or flight reaction kicking in so hard he had to gulp a few times to just stay still. He felt like a trapped animal or probably worse. His best friend was hitting on him and he had no idea how to gently refuse. How do you say no to an angel?
"Dean, I held your soul in my hands, we both know that's not true," Castiel simply said. Dean hated his sure and obvious manners. He didn't know about the fight part, but suddenly his fist itched to punch the angel straight in the face.
"You're wrong. I'm no faggot! Don't try to turn this on me!" He was turning aggressive, his body trembling from the tension in every muscle. He felt waves of panic rise from the pit of his stomach, burning like acid, and the easiest thing was to turn them into anger. That he knew how to manage.
"Calm down, Dean. Breathe," Castiel took a step toward him, hands still raised, and now Dean wanted to run. He eyed the door, on the other side of the room, Castiel between him and it. Was the angel suddenly bigger than usual?
"Don’t tell me to calm down,” he growled, but he took a deep breath to regain control, “Seriously Cas…" Dean stopped, took a deeper breath, "I don't know if I sent you some wrong message or…" he tried not to let his emotions overtake him. After all, the angel didn't offend him, didn't attack him, there was no need for yelling or punching. Maybe.
Castiel took another step forward, not cornering him. Both knew Dean could have moved away easily, but suddenly he felt more caged than ever in his life. He couldn't run. His brain had him glued to the spot, his throat dry, his eyes burning.
"Dean, I know about when you were a kid. I know about that day when your father…"
"No!" Dean almost yelled, but his voice didn't get out as an aggressive threat, more like a desperate beg not to wake certain memories. He had taken years scrubbing them away from his brain. Scratched at them with metaphorical fingernails until he finally could no longer feel that perverse itch he had felt as a young man, that sick and wrong want.
"Calm down, Dean. Don't even make it about me, just think of what you want, what you need. You can't deny yourself that too, just because of your father."
"Stop! Stop saying these things, stop telling me what I like or don't!" Dean was seriously worried he was going to lose control or pass out, his voice slightly raised and menacing. He didn't like men. He had experimented a little, he had maybe gotten a few orgasms out of it, but it was just a game, one that ended pretty badly when John had found out. That was it. He didn't jerk off thinking of men or find them attractive. And if he had dreamed a few times about them, if he had woken up with his boxers sticky, it had just been some sick joke from his mind. He wasn’t like that. He was a hunter, a real man.
"Look at me in the eyes and tell me you never had to suppress a shiver or a thought, maybe even about me," Castiel was serious, laser-focused on the topic, worse than a hellhound with its target.
Dean looked at him, mouth dry and eyes wet. He felt a tear trail down his face while he fisted his hands along his sides and looked up into Cas' eyes.
He may have dreamt a few times about him too, but it sure had been his stressed and sleep deprived mind playing tricks. He may also have wanted to hug him more times than it was necessary and maybe to hold him, but just because the angel had practically fallen for him. For them. That was huge and he was just grateful and a little awed. He had never wanted to kiss his eyelids or his chapped lips, though. He had never wanted to disappear in his embrace when everything had been too much.
The alcohol and lame dinner raised in his throat, nausea making him unsteady for a moment.
Those weren't feelings he was allowed to have. Those were things he had ignored for most of his life, buried deep enough to forget them, fought until his mind bled and now Castiel didn't have a right to slam them in his face. But oh, leave it to the angel to totally ignore manners or how to keep his mouth shut.
"I feel sick," was the only thing he managed to babble, Castiel just nodded, otherwise completely still in front of him. A marble statue. Perfect in his eternal calm. And Dean wanted to punch him even more. Who did he think he was to force such a sexual crisis on someone? To then wait there, inches from him, like he was just waiting for them to decide what they wanted for dinner or something! A lifetime of denial and suddenly Dean felt like the angel wanted to know the truth right then and there. But no, because he already had the answer, he had all the answers because he had held his soul, put the pieces back together and even put every single cell of his body back together, every molecule of DNA. The fucking angel probably knew about Dean more than Dean himself! It felt unnerving and downright terrifying.
"So what, you're saying you already know my soul wants your Grace or whatever this shit is?" Castiel shook his head carefully.
"No, Dean. I know for a fact that you are attracted to men too, but I can't know if you could ever be to me. I'm as human as you confessing I feel for you something an angel shouldn't even know"
"You're saying you're risking getting your heart broken?" Dean's voice softened without even realizing and Cas nodded, "you're completely vulnerable, hostage of a very human feeling, scared and still you came to me, based only on your faith in me and the knowledge I could have been with men if I had a different father?" Castiel nodded again and Dean's eyes went wide.
That was something new. Something huge, almost as huge as the falling. To face a demon or Lucifer took balls, but to do something like Castiel just did…that took a lot more than balls. At that point he was the only one, human or angel, Castiel could trust, his only friend, his only certainty, and he just found the courage to confess to him. In a very angelic way, starting from porn and continuing with a forced coming out and some confused speech about Grace and souls. That was huge, his brain repeated in a loop. That was so huge suddenly Dean felt hot and fuzzy inside, his body screaming to just take those two steps and hold Castiel and never let him go. Yet, he didn't.
"Cas, I don't know.." he babbled. He really didn't. How could he unravel months of ignored and repressed feelings and thoughts in a minute? All right, he wanted something, that he could maybe admit, but he had no idea what. He was terrified and tears were running freely on his face.
Without a word, Castiel took one step forward and paused for a second. Dean's body went rigid but did nothing. He felt like prey, he felt like he had no way out, yet he knew his brain had all the ways out already mapped. He could have been out of the room in a matter of seconds. Just, his body and part of his brain weren't interested in it.
Castiel took another step. Personal space totally forgotten. Dean could feel his breath on his face. It smelt like ozone, like after a summer storm. He could still get away. One step to the side and he knew Castiel wouldn't have grabbed him. Just one step and maybe they could find a way to leave all that behind. But he didn't move and Castiel closed his eyes, giving him a few more seconds before pressing their lips together. A chaste kiss, closed mouths touching for a moment, no movement, then Castiel retreated and took one step back. Just then he opened his eyes, looking into Dean’s wide ones.
Nothing but a fleeting touch and yet Dean could feel his lips tingling, the just perceptible pricking of the light stubble almost left on his chin. His body was frozen, his heart racing too fast.
"That was assault,” he could only say. It wasn’t true, he knew. He didn’t move, he didn’t step away, the blame fell on him more than on Castiel. He should have stopped him, he should have run, not let his best friend kiss him to then think about the warmth he had felt against his mouth, his chest.
"I'm sorry, Dean. It wasn't my intent,” Castiel looked crestfallen, he took another step backwards, arms along his sides in that too straight posture Dean had thought the angel had left behind a long time before.
"It's okay, you're forgiven,” it wasn’t true, though, because he had done nothing that needed forgiveness. Dean’s heart ached at the sorrow on Castiel’s face. Basically, he had just refused him, told him his feelings were considered an attack, and part of Dean screamed that it wasn’t true, that he was just lying, that he couldn’t let Cas suffer like that, he couldn’t hurt him and take the pain on his face. He actually couldn’t take the idea of Cas being hurt, in any way, by anything or anyone. The angel was too precious to him, his pain hurt as much as his own.
Dean forced a smile, hoping to look encouraging. He wanted to touch, to reach out and hug Cas, tell him everything was going to be okay, that they were going to find some kind of solution, but he just couldn’t, he felt like just by brushing against that damn trench coat was going to be his defeat, was going to level down walls he wasn’t ready to lose.
"Still, you didn't punch me,” Castiel said, like the thought just occurred to him, eyes suddenly closing a little in his concentration. He was studying Dean, waiting for an answer to come to him.
"I don't… there was no need to punch you. I saw it coming, I could have stopped you." the truth. Maybe for once to stop lying to the ones he loved was the right thing to do. Could he even really lie to Cas, at that point? The angel knew too much, the angel could read through him and his lies and Dean was tired, like years of lies, of denial, were suddenly released on his shoulders.
"So you let me kiss you. Why, Dean?” Still, that look, the one he got a thousand times before, every time he did or said something that made no sense to an otherworldly creature.
"Is that… is Jimmy still in there?" Dean answered with another question. He didn’t even care, not consciously at least but he still wasn’t ready, he still hadn’t a reply, his mind trying to push it all back, to build another wall, John’s voice, his anger, still sounding loud in his ears, that shiver of pure terror running down his back. He couldn’t answer, even if the words were on the tip of his tongue. He felt fifteen again, he knew tears of pain and humiliation were running down his face and he knew Castiel was pointedly ignoring them, able to read him better than Dean would feel comfortable with
"No. Human souls don't survive being exploded. He's in Heaven," Castiel answered, obviously as uncaring as the question had been asked. He was looking at Dean intently, body unnaturally still, like his eternal existence would depend on the ending of that conversation, from Dean being honest or a coward. Dean knew he was being the latter.
"So that's your body, now?"
"Yes, just me. It's more than my vessel, it's me when I'm in this reality. I can leave it behind to be in my true form, but on Earth… would you want me to search for a female vessel?" Castiel suddenly proposed like it was a brilliant idea that just got to him, his face lightening like that was the easy way to give his Grace what it needed. A female body to let Dean love him.
"No! It… it wouldn't be you. You just said it. You're Castiel, so much that this is your body now, not even a vessel,” Dean shook his head and watched with a broken heart as Cas' smile died on his lips.
"But you wouldn't run if I was a female," Cas's voice was suddenly little, like he couldn’t fight anymore, like that was his last hope and just so obvious it didn’t make sense that Dean could refuse the proposal.
"Cas…I can't,” There were more tears on Dean’s cheeks and when Castiel’s eyes turned watery, a scary show of human emotions, the hunter felt something seize and hurt in his chest, something that hurt far more than the memory of his father, than the fear. He had hurt his angel to the point of tears. No, not his angel, Cas wasn’t his, actually all that was exactly to make the point that Cas could never be his.
"Why, Dean? There's nothing wrong. I know what this human form feels and I know what I feel, how my Grace searches for you, I can change body and just keep my Grace calling to you, I’m sure another vessel would react the same. "
"That's not the problem. That body wouldn’t be you, you wouldn’t be Castiel…” Dean repeated.
He couldn’t even think about that, about not seeing those stupidly blue eyes and the askwed tie or the chapped lips. He gulped and started again, “Cas, my instinct says yes, but my head keeps yelling that it's sick and wrong"
"Right, and we know your head is always right,” Castiel snorted and Dean couldn’t help but chuckle a little despite what he was feeling.
"Good moment to learn sarcasm,” he was proud of it, he made a mental note to let Castiel know if they were ever going to talk again after all that.
"Dean, seriously, listen to your soul. The voice in your head is just that of your father, don't follow it to not let a dead man down. A dead man who was wrong,” there was a plea in Cas’ words but also anger, Dean couldn’t tell if toward him for being irrational or toward John for messing up with his sons as he had done. He knew, in time, Castiel had decided there was nothing righteous in John, just a broken man who didn't know how to let go of his anger and pulled his sons into it.
"What about… you're sexless, Castiel, I could hold onto that thought, but what if I say yes and if it's real that liking men is sick?" Dean knew his certainty was starting to falter, he could feel his resolution slip away every time Cas’ eyes lightened up in hope or turned dark and wet in fear. Maybe the angel’s words were true, maybe somehow his Soul was calling at Cas’s Grace as much as the other way around because it was starting to feel like he was just beating about the bush more than really wanting to say no.
"Sure not to my father, it's one of the choices he gave you humans, nothing attached,” Castiel sounded almost outraged by the implication that he could do something so openly against his Father, or maybe that Dean could think that his Father could be so similar to John, he wasn’t sure and he didn’t care.
"But…" he couldn’t find more words, more reasons. Why couldn’t he just put away his fears, deal with his dread at another moment and just say what he really wanted to? But no, that would be too easy for him, for his fucked up head, so it could feel his brain searching for something else to grasp for, anything else to justify his fear, something that wasn’t what John thought of him because that had already lost its grip in front of the instinct he felt pulling him to Castiel. So, like always, his head fell on the next best thing. His brother. His other excuse not to face the things he wanted to avoid and to justify the ones he knew he was wrong to feel. He couldn’t let Sam down like that, not even if Sam had let him down in far worse ways.
"Dean, are you thinking of what Sam and Bobby could think?" When the hell has Cas learned to read him so easily without actually reading his thoughts? Was he reading his mind even if Dean had forbidden him to? Or maybe he just was easily predictable
"I couldn't lose them just because I let myself go. I can't take them looking at me with disgust,” he knew he was grasping at straws. They loved him, the moment Sam was going to have his soul back was never going to blame him for being happy and Bobby was a father, but a good one, one that forgave him far worse, one that loved him in good and bad unconditionally and Dean knew he was cheering for his happiness. He wanted just that for his boys, Dean knew he wasn’t going to be let down if he was to find his happiness in the angel.
"Dean, they love you. Their love for you is so deep…I can read them, Dean, you know I can, and neither of them would think less of you for allowing yourself to be happy. They'd be happy for you." Castiel should really stop saying what he was thinking, should stop reading and knowing him so easily, because that made Dean think that, at that point, Castiel was then already knowing he was so close to giving up and embracing his feelings even with all the anguish filling his head.
"I don't know what's the right thing to do, Cas,” Dean finally admitted, letting the angel know it was just his rational part stopping him, his need to think things over about himself just to protect himself.
"What would you do, in such a situation, during a hunt?" Low blow, because Dean knew Castiel already had the answer.
"Unable to make a reasonable decision? I'd follow my instinct hoping for the best,” He answered uselessly, just to humor him. Instinct had always taken over in most of his hunts, intuition and muscle memory taking over where his head would only be a holdup. Sure, that had also sent him to the hospital more than a handful of times, but the truth was that following instinct also was what had kept him and his family alive up to that point when his head had suggested crappy ideas, the saying yes to Michael just the latest one.
"And you're still alive, so maybe your instinct isn't so bad, even if I had to save your ass a few times. What does it tell you now?" This time Castiel pushed, a new light in the blue eyes like he already knew Dean was done.
"That… that I want you with every fibre of my body. And probably soul,” he blurted out without thinking, repressed feelings suddenly running through him, all the hugs and touches he had refused himself, all the dreams, all the intrusive fantasies. Abruptly there no longer was the fear of his father, of letting people down, of what he was, he suddenly didn’t feel dirty or wrong, because the desperate need he felt for Cas couldn’t be sick, he felt damn pure because he could finally admit what made him want to only see smiles and hope in those tired eyes, why his chest hurt so when the angel was away or didn’t reply or, even worse, when he was angry at him. How he had felt something die inside him when Castiel had looked at him with disgust and he had known he had let the angel down. It all rained down on him, more than a lifetime of denial because that meant nothing to him, just what he felt for Castiel, just what the angel felt for him, made sense at that point. It was such a huge revelation he felt dizzy and he had to sit on the table to stop his legs from giving up.
"And I promise you, Dean Winchester, my Grace is calling for you in ways I can't even explain to a mortal. Please, Dean,” the words came out of a fog after Castiel had given him a minute to assimilate his epiphany. For reasons his brain couldn’t even fathom the angel wanted him, his divine Grace wanted him and Cas was begging in his admission. Cas had been begging for a long time, maybe far longer than just that night and he had been an idiot, a cruel one, hurting his angel over and over. Because now he felt like he could call him his angel without freaking out or feeling guilty.
Dean extended his arm toward Castiel and he took it, moving forward until his body was brushing against Dean’s leg. He bent over a little, their foreheads now pressed together intimately, their breaths mixing.
“Does it all mean I love you, Cas?” Dean asked in a trembling whisper, but the other was close enough to hear.
“I hope so, Dean,” Castiel's rough voice said, still a touch of uncertainty, of fear, in it, but then he reached up to cup his cheek and Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch as his life depended on it and Castiel smiled, the first real, happy smile he could remember on that vessel’s lips, “Yes, yes, I think you do,” he said, this time with a hot surety in his voice, and Dean couldn’t help but smile against the thumb gently caressing the corner of his mouth.
They didn't move for long seconds, Dean trying to get used to that new feeling, even if he still felt like a hurricane had just passed through his brain and his head, leaving everything blurred and confused, but somehow he didn't care about it, he didn't feel the need to make order in his feelings, not now at least. He opened his eyes, trying to focus on the blue ones so close to him.
"I think you should kiss me again," he whispered and the words felt heavy but easy on his tongue, like an unknown but sweet taste.
Castiel didn't react immediately, he kept cupping his cheek and stroking gently with his thumb, instead, until he felt Dean lean against the hand once more, with a small sigh, and just then he moved and gave him what he had asked for. It was as chaste as before, a press of lips on lips, just a little longer, just enough that Dean had the time to let it sink in. He was kissing Cas, their mouths were pressed together and his chapped lips were softer than they should have, warm. It was the chastest of kisses and yet it felt like the most intimate Dean had ever received.
"You're shaking, are you ok?" Castiel asked, still so close that their lips brushes.
Was he? It took him a second to realize he was, but it wasn't in a bad way, it was like his body wasn't enough to contain all the things he was feeling.
"I am, I really am," he answered, closing the distance to kiss Castiel again. This time his mouth was just a little more open, enough to let the angel's bottom lip fit perfectly between his. He kissed him, slowly, Castiel kissing back with a delicate sigh, their mouths finally slotting into place, caressing and sucking, breaths mingling.
It was odd and intense to feel skin not completely bare and soft, a rough and calloused hand on his face. He felt like he was a teen again and it felt like all those dreams he had washed away under cold showers, denying himself even warm water after such wrong images, had taken over his brain. It still felt slightly wrong to enjoy that and yet he knew it was one of the few right things he had ever done because those chapped lips made him feel alive again. Human again.
Dean spread his legs a little more, pulling Cas forward in the space between them, their bodies suddenly close, sharing warmth. He reached to put his hands on the angel's waist and it felt so different from a woman but so perfect like his big hands were made to fit there, over hard muscles covered by those stupid accountant clothes.
"Dean," Castiel murmured when they paused the kiss, a million words in that single one and Dean felt like he knew every one of them and yet he needed to hear them over and over.
"Don't stop, don't leave me," was all he managed to say, though, and like a spell, like they were magic words, easy and assured to work, Cas was kissing him again, this time his tongue gently swiping Dean's bottom lip and it was a no brainer to open his mouth and let the angel in, to kiss back, suddenly needy and desperate. Their tongues danced together, stroking and tasting, switching mouths over and over, exploring each other slowly but with hunger boiling in the depth of their cores. Dean's hands gripped desperately at the trench coat and Castiel got his free arm around his middle, pulling him forward, their hips finally touching. Dean moaned loudly in his mouth. He wasn't hard yet, but that kind of intimate closeness felt electric anyway, the closure to everything that had been said and felt that night. It made his feelings real. It wasn't a game, it wasn't just confusion, his cock was pressed against Cas's' and it felt damn right, no guilt, no disgust, no fear, just him and his angel in an intimate position. It was real, he had Castiel in his embrace and the world wasn't ending, no new apocalypse was happening because of that, and no one was yelling at him for being a sick abomination. It was just incredibly normal, life changing but still uneventful for the rest of the universe, no one else cared if his tongue was stroking against an angel's teeth or that his hands had moved up to tug at that stupid trench coat he wanted off.
Castiel took a step back, getting rid of the coat and jacket and then went back to Dean, gently pushing up his t-shirt in a request for permission. Dean nodded his consent, shivering when the angel took it off, throwing it on the floor before going back to kiss him. It felt a little odd, naked chest rubbing against a shirt and under it another flat chest, solid with muscles that the trench coat always hid, but Dean could also feel Castiel’s warmth, just a little more than a normal human like that body was burning hot to contain the angel’s Grace. Rough hands explored his back and shoulders until one stopped on his neck, holding him still while Cas took control of his mouth, showing how he didn’t need to breathe and if Dean wasn’t hard before he had gone from 1 to 100 in a matter of seconds, because he was now, pressed against Castiel’s erection, gasping in the kiss when the angel moved his hips to give him some friction.
“Shirt. Off. Now,” Dean ordered the second Cas ended the kiss to let him breathe. His lungs almost burned with the lack of air, but he didn’t care. Castiel started to open the clothing, but after a few buttons Dean decided it was taking too long, so he just grabbed and pulled, a few buttons getting loose and on the floor, but he was already busy getting it off Cas’ shoulders. He let his hands rest on the bare chest, just a few hairs there, hard and dark nipples under his palms. There was nothing in common with a woman and suddenly it rained on Dean how much he had wanted that, how he had missed a touch he denied himself for so long.
“Cas,” he whispered, travelling down to caress abs just barely hidden by some softness, until he stopped at the belt of his pants, thumbs running along the skin just over it.
“Dean, want to move this to the bed?” Castiel asked, he had held still to let him touch and explore, to get even more acquainted with the idea of what was happening, but now his body was starting to be demanding.
Dean nodded and before he could move Cas was pressed against him, hands under his ass while he lifted him. Dean tightened his legs around his waist on reflex but ready to protest, to point out he was no lady to carry around like a doll, when Castiel grabbed handfuls of his ass, pressing so Dean’s hard cock would be trapped against their bodies, trusted against his belly, and all that came out of the hunter’s mouth was an embarrassing moan.
Crossing the room, Castiel gently laid Dean on the bed and just stood in front of him, looking at the obscene tent in his jeans, the pebbled nipples and the few drops of sweat at the base of his neck.
“Maybe we should get rid of the last clothes,” Dean said nervously, licking at his lips. He wasn’t used to being watched like that like he was something precious and beautiful, but the second he realized his words his mind wondered if he was ready, instead, to take off the last barrier between him and Castiel, to tear down all the last walls, the physical ones. He knew there was no going back if his jeans were to go, he knew the second the angel was going to be naked in front of him nothing could stop all the very unholy things he wanted to do to him. Follow your instinct, not your fucked up mind, a part of him reminded and he just reached down to open his jeans. Like he was waiting for his move, Castiel went to his belt at the same moment. They didn’t look at each other, both busy getting rid of everything they were still wearing from the waist down.
Castiel just stood in front of him, giving Dean one more chance to study and watch and Dean seized the opportunity to do just that.
The angel was perfect, he had no idea if it was the once borrowed body, the Grace filling it or just the fact that it was Castiel, but he looked like living art, hard muscles showing under skin and meat, hard and red cock jutting from between his legs like some statue and golden skin just dusted by hair here and there. He felt a pang of need in his stomach, not even sure what kind. It wasn’t just about wanting to touch and taste, he wanted him, wanted to own that body, to claim it as his. To claim Castiel as his, so he reached with a hand and as easy as that Castiel crawled on the bed, over him, between his legs and started kissing him again.
They tried for slow and romantic, to let the other know about their feelings, but it was over the moment Dean locked a leg over Castiel’s, thigh pressing his hips down and their cocks finally slotting together, one against the other, wet and hot, rubbing in the best of ways. Dean grabbed Cas’ hair, pulling, and the angel moaned in such a dirty way for a second Dean thought they were both going to end up in Hell right that moment. It didn’t happen, instead, Castiel reached to pinch one of the pebbled nipples, just the right side of too rough and Dean gasped, bending his back in pure lust.
“Dean,” his name whispered in such a low and rough voice that almost made him whimper, “can I…?” Castiel didn’t finish the question, but Dean didn’t need to, because the answer was yes to whatever the angel wanted to do with his body.
“Stop asking, I’ll just stop you if I’ll ever need to,” it was supposed to be an eager reprieve, instead the voice came out sweet, a reassurance, and Dean gently stroked Cas’ face, “just..I’m not ready for full sex, not tonight,” he admitted, blushing. He wasn’t freaking out and he wanted what was happening, but he knew everything was going to rain down on him in the morning and he wanted to be sure he was never going to regret the first time he’d feel Castiel inside him. He wanted for it to be real and felt, not just a desperate need of his body.
Castiel nodded, maybe at the limit, maybe at the permission to do whatever else he wanted, it didn’t matter, because a moment later he was licking and biting along Dean’s neck, sucking at his throat and then his tongue was dipping in the hollow at the base of it. When he started to nip his way down to the sensitive nipples Dean grabbed his hair once more, feeling him gasp around the little nub he was desperately sucking at, the other one tormented by thumb and fingernails.
“Cas,” Dean moaned just to taste the name on his tongue while the angel resumed his exploration. He bit and sucked on the abs gone just the right side of soft during that year off, scraped his teeth along imaginary lines, Dean’s hand still solid in his hair, gripping but not guiding.
“Dean,” the angel whispered back, kissing at a new spot. He moved to dip his tongue in Dean’s navel and the position got the hard cock to rub against the rough beard. Dean gasped, air forced out of his lungs, back arching while both his legs shot up around Castiel’s chest. It was the newest and more intense sensation he had ever felt and apparently, Cas got it if the smirk at the reaction was a clue.
“Stop being so smug,” Dean groaned, looking down at him, as soon as his body decided to cooperate again. He pulled at Castiel’s hair in retaliation, getting him to groan.
“Do I have permission to do other things that will undo you?” and that little smile was the true definition of smug like the angel had studied enough to know he could easily turn Dean into a puddle of need. Not that, at that point, was going to be a hard task, the hunter was sure he was going to embarrass himself pretty soon if they were to keep going on like that.
“You put me back together, Cas,” Dean said in a bout of sentimentality, cupping his cheek, “now feel free to unmake me,” Cas turned to lovingly kiss the palm of his hand, love written on his face, but the grin that followed was downright filthy.
Looking up at Dean, Cas finally got to his cock. He slowly licked it from base to tip, staring at how Dean’s mouth fell open in a soundless moan, then traced the wet stripe with a finger, stopping just under the head to stroke the sensitive nerves while he lapped slowly at the slit, licking away the drops of precome.
Dean was almost shaking under the hand that rested on his waist, heels digging into Castiel’s back. He grabbed the sheets, just to stop himself from pulling too much on the angel’s hair or to force him into swallowing his cock whole, but when Cas took the head in his mouth he grabbed at his shoulder, uncaring of fingernails leaving red marks, his body almost curled around the angel.
“Thought…thought you were a virgin…” Dean cracked in a voice that wasn’t his, too low and broken, something he had never heard coming out of his mouth during sex.
Castiel ignored him for a long second, sucking more of his cock, using his tongue on the part that was in his mouth and his hand at the base, then got up with an obscene pop and an even more obscene smirk on the red and wet mouth.
“I watched enough porn, thinking about doing this to you, that I got a general idea,” he admitted, back at lapping at the slit.
Dean was sure his brain had just short circuited. Cas had fantasized about that, about him, about having him on his back with his cock down his throat and the idea was almost more groundbreaking than the fact that at the moment he was doing exactly that because apparently angels didn’t have a gag reflex, or maybe just Castiel, because Dean was pretty sure other angels didn’t go around sucking on humans’ cocks like their immortal lives depended on it. But yes, Castiel was indeed doing just that, cheeks hollowed around the dick in his mouth and one hand gently massaging the heavy balls.
Dean closed his eyes for a moment, listing in his head all the monsters he could remember that started with a “B” just to keep himself from coming that instant, nails now undoubtedly leaving marks he didn’t care about.
“Cas. Cas, I don’t think I can…” he tried to say when the angel started to bob his head up and down, tracing patterns with his tongue, but Castiel raised his head just for a moment.
“You can. You will,” his voice a low, dangerous rasp. Dean had known orders all his life and that was one, no space for doubts. He gulped, a little louder than he’d wanted, and nodded. He was good at following orders and sure he wasn’t going to embarrass himself in front of the virgin angel.
Giving him a moment to calm himself down, Castiel started to just suck on random spots along his shaft, letting his stubble rub against the wet skin, just a light scrap, just enough to have Dean fight to hide his desperate moans, but when the hunter’s breath went back to vaguely normal, he started again, sucking at the head, swallowing him to the base and then back up, tongue following the raised vein. He grabbed Dean’s hip tight, enough to bruise, and let the hand on his balls slowly travel down, skin left wet by his dripping spit. He massaged his perineum, chuckling around the cock at the broken groan he got, and then shifted his finger lower. Cas just stopped.
It took Dean a moment to realize, his brain slow to catch up while the angel was trying to suck it out of his cock, but soon he did. Castiel had stilled every movement and was just staying there, dick in his mouth and finger barely brushing his hole, asking for permission or to be stopped. Consciously, Dean clenched and unclenched his ass. He could feel that single, light finger like the heaviest touch. He could feel his body beg.
“Come on, I’m not the virgin one, Cas. Not so much, at least,” he grinned, pushing down his hips to press consistently against the digit.
Some women had done that while going down on him and he wasn’t going to admit that, but he had experimented more than a few times by himself. Definitely not such a virgin.
“Are you sure?” Cas asked explicitly and Dean was sure it sounded a little like a threat like Cas was going to know if he was lying and there would have been hell to pay. Instead of answering with words, Dean grabbed the angel’s wrist and brought his hand to his mouth, sucking lustily on two fingers, green eyes fixed into blue ones.
Castiel let him do it, then, after a few moments, fingers wet, pressed down on the man’s tongue and Dean let his mouth fall open, allowing the angel to play with his bottom lip, pulling it down.
So much for maintaining some pride. Dean could feel his chin getting wet and his mouth still warm and swollen from the kissing. He knew his eyes were half hooded and his breath was getting out fast and hard on the wet fingers. He probably was the portrait of desperate and wanton and Castiel’s wicked and satisfied smirk was the proof.
“‘Lease,” the “P” silent from the open mouth, to hell with pride, Dean begged, cock red and heavy.
“Yes, Dean. Yes,” Cas conceded, this time with a sappy smile on his abused lips. He bent his neck and started back to suck the hard dick like a drowning man, like both their lives depended on it, but this time he circled the wet finger around and around Dean’s hole until the man's moans turned into a plea.
Focusing his sinful mouth just on the head, a thumb massaging under it, Castiel slowly pushed a finger inside, stilling when he was at the second knuckle.
Dean would have denied the coarse words that left him in a long moan, the slight burn that made his cock throb even more or how he was sure his ass was made for Cas to be somehow inside it, but at that point, he didn’t care about all that, he didn’t care about keeping a shred of his usual facade, because it was just him and Castiel and his body felt on fire.
“Damn it, let me come, please, angel” he was sure he was about to cry, or maybe part of the wetness on his face were new tears but he didn’t give a shit, because nothing but the man between his legs still had a meaning.
“Yes, Dean,” voice messed up and shiny eyes, Castiel looked up at him, “whenever you want,” and as to confirm his permission he licked at the continuing stream of drops coming out of the tip, moving away just when he was sure Dean was looking at him, a line of wetness connecting the hard cock to his parting mouth.
Dean groaned at the debauched scene, knowing it was for his benefit, and this time grabbed Castiel’s by the hair, pushing him down on his cock. The angel swallowed, the stretched lips still maintaining some sort of smirk while he moved his finger to rub steadily against Dean’s prostate.
It didn’t take more than a handful of seconds and some very embarrassing moans for Dean to let go and finally come straight in Castiel’s throat, hand keeping him flush against his groin while his heels pushed him back too and his back arched toward him.
Dean fell exhausted, muscles shaking from the effort and eyes heavy.
“Come here,” and he couldn’t help if his voice was so rough and abused, he was sure he had screamed enough that the whole town, by now, knew he had gotten laid. He didn’t care.
Castiel grabbed the trembling hand that was offered to him, kissed the palm open mouthed and then moved up on the bed, laying plastered to Dean’s side, head on his shoulder.
He was hard and wet and when Dean moved his leg he apparently couldn’t help to rub against it with a low moan.
“You know, I guess it was supposed to be your first time and I doubt this is going to be fancy,” Dean commented while adjusting to being on his side, a stupid smile on his lips. He reached down, taking Castiel in his hand and it didn’t matter that it wasn’t some fancy, porn like situation or that it was somehow still odd to hold a cock that wasn’t his after all that time, because of the face Cas made, the broken moan while he pushed his hips forward, was better than any sex Dean had ever seen or had.
Castiel's hand shot up to Dean’s shoulder, gripping him like it was the only solid thing in existence while a thousand expressions passed on his face, everyone more incredulous than the one before, like the angel hadn’t expected that something so crude, so primal could feel so good.
“Yes, yes my angel,” Dean whispered, amazed by the creature in his arms. He was the first one in all eternity pulling those faces out of him, making him feel like that, seeing the angel at the peak of his vulnerability, even more, vulnerable than a human while so overwhelmed by sheer sensations.
It didn’t take long for Castiel’s body to reach its peak. The angel opened his eyes widely in confusion and amazement, staring straight at Dean who just nodded with a smile while he came over his hand and both their chests. His breath was heavy, like a human’s, and his skin flushed red. Dean looked at him while the angel came back. There was nothing angelical in how he looked and yet the hunter was sure, at that moment, he was the most celestial creature he had ever seen.
“You okay?” Dean asked when Castiel had laid back and looked vaguely able to form coherent thoughts.
“It was…intense,” Cas offered eloquently, looking at the stained ceiling like he could see the whole universe reflected there. Maybe he could.
“You tell me,” Dean chuckled, head resting on his bent arm while the angel still occupied his other shoulder. He wasn’t one for cuddling, usually, at that point, he’d have gone for the bathroom even if on wobbly legs, but tonight he had no intention of moving. He felt safe like that, sated and whole in a way that had little to do with the incredible orgasm.
“Dean, will you tell me when you’re going to “freak out”?” When not if. Cas really knew him well.
“Probably not,” he chuckled but Cas only sighed like he expected exactly that answer and like it aggravated him to have to deal with such a creature.
“Then I’ll wait for you to do something stupid and I’ll know you’re freaking out,” resignation mixed with amusement in the still gravel like voice.
“Hey! I don’t…” Dean started to protest, but Castiel’s raised eyebrow stopped him. Okay, there was a little chance that that was the truth and that he tended to do stupid things when his head turned into overthinking mode.
It was a no brainer to tighten the hold around Cas, pulling him closer not even caring that things were getting sticky and disgusting.
Dean stayed still like that until his shoulder started to cramp, the air just a little too cold on his sweaty body, but even expecting it, even waiting for it to the point of searching in the recesses of his brain, teasing at it like he’d have done with the stupid monster of turn, he didn’t feel the panic rise in his throat. He was expecting to hear John’s voice thunder in his head, yelling about how his son will never be like that, he was expecting to hear his young self sneer and call him, at least, a sissy, but his mind stayed silent, just the satisfying hum he got after a good orgasm, no ghosts torturing him.
“Hey Cas?” he asked, the other so still he wondered if angels could fall asleep after sex.
“Yes, Dean?” ok, definitely not asleep, even if his voice still sounded too raw, enough to have Dean blush.
“Was that…is…?” Apparently adrenaline, panic and arousal gone, Dean was back at not knowing about the right words to use for something like that. He didn’t want to grab his jeans and run, but he had no idea what to say either. Well, he knew what he wanted to say, he just didn’t know the right words.
Castiel sighed, in a tone that let Dean know the angel had spent too much time with Sam, and in a fluid movement moved to straddle Dean’s hips. He stilled, his eyes searching Dean’s face for signs of a negative reaction, but no, the hunter wasn’t going to freak out just because of a lapful of naked and sticky angel, indeed he scooted up, moving them both, and sat up a little.
“Were you asking if that left me more satisfied than roughing up a demon or trying to jerk off?” Castiel said, too focused on choosing the words for them to come out as the tease they were supposed to be. Dean didn’t control the smile that pulled on his lips. How could that be wrong? Maybe Cas was wearing a male body, but it was the most relaxed and content Dean had been in months, those thighs were made for his hands to fit on and Castiel’s hand splayed on his chest almost burned as to leave another mark, an even more profound one.
“Yes, I guess we’re going for a chick flick moment. After sex. That no one must know about,” Dean winked, chuckling to hide his nerves. That part maybe was a little too much and a little too soon, but just because he still needed to learn.
“Yes, Dean. Maybe you’re not so used to listening to your soul, but my Grace got complete and fulfilled sooner than my body did and I felt your soul’s pull, I felt it sing inside you.”
“My soul doesn’t sing!” Dean protested, pinching Castiel’s leg when he chuckled.
“Ok, then I felt it…” Cas paused, thinking about it for a moment, “...call me?”
“Disgustingly cheesy,” Dean protested again but distracted himself by gently rubbing his hands up and down Castiel’s thighs.
Hesitating for a few seconds, Cas bent down, pressing his lips against Dean, careful, to first assess his reaction. Dean’s heart seized for a moment. After all that had been said and done he could still feel uncertainty in Cas, radiating from him, and not because of inexperience, but because somehow he still doubted about what was going on, he still doubted Dean could let go with him and not suddenly turn into the soldier he’d been raised to be.
Fingers shook a little when Dean reached up to trace Castiel's cheekbone with love, moving to his temple, to the line of his hair. He touched delicately, using just the tip of his fingers like he was something precious that could break under his usually rough touch. Dean deepened the kiss, pulling Castiel’s bottom lips between his, sucking, but didn’t let his tongue in, didn’t let passion take over again. It was sweet and slow, all the words he didn’t know hidden in that intimate touch. After long moments of just that he pushed Castiel up, smiling at him even if he knew it turned out a little too timid.
“Cas, I may not be so in touch with my soul, but after all that was said and done, we both know that wasn’t just a one off to get rid of your hard on problem, right?” not his best speech, but Dean was satisfied given the situation and Castiel smiled at him like the best words had been spoken.
“I know, Dean. I can feel and read your soul for the both of us, you don’t need to explain.”
“Oh, thank God, I’m sure it was going to turn ugly,” both men laughed, not even noticing how their fingers intertwined over Castiel’s leg, “but before anything else, we need a shower.”
“You know I can clean us both with a gesture, right?” Castiel offered, still slightly confused by humans' obsession with showers.
“Cas, you still have a lot of porn to watch. Or try,” Dean smirked, pushing him off.
“Before we go and you teach me more, can I ask one more question?” Now Castiel looked nervous and Dean frowned, unsure if it was going to be more inquiring about sex or something deeper, but nodded. At that point he was up to answer anything Cas, sitting cross legged on the bed, not looking directly at him, needed to ease his mind. To think the night had started with him freaking out about all that.
“Earlier you called me angel…” he paused and Dean frowned even more, ready for a reprieve, “why did you use my species? You needed it to convince yourself I wasn’t really a man so you could lay with me?”
“No!” Dean was fought between laughing and just holding Cas forever, “I want to lay with you, just because it’s you, Cas! Man, angel, whatever. It was just a pet name,” he explained.
“I’m not a pet,” Cas tilted his head, confused, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh while he knelt back on the bed to caress Castiel’s face. How could he not love him, his innocence?
“No, a pet name is like…a cute nickname people in love use to call each other. You’re my angel, not because you actually have wings and your mojo, in a more, metaphorical sense,” Dean clarified, feeling his cheeks turning hot.
A soft “oh” left Castiel’s lips when he caught up with the idea and he leaned against the hand, turning enough to kiss the palm.
“Would you like sunshine better? Teddy bear? Because sorry, but baby is reserved for my Baby,” Dean smiled.
“Now you’re making fun of me, right?” Castiel smiled back, biting at the hand in retaliation.
“Definitely, angel,” Dean laughed, softening the blow by using the pet name again.
“I love you too, Dean.”