Dean didn't know when it had happened, but somehow that awkward angel had worked his way into his head. As Dean's wings unfurled and he looked into the face below him, panting and hard, he couldn't help but feel.
As a rule, angels don't feel and so Dean had become a master of sexual relations without attachments. He was all too happy to tear up heaven and earth when Father disappeared and chaos threatened to rain down on them. Seducing his brother in arms had seemed like a good start. Cas was just a conquest in the beginning, just a virgin Dean desired. Someone to teach all he had learned in his thousands of years watching; but now there was a profound bond he could not escape. Finding out just what it meant to feel was not something Dean had bargained for when he decided to become one of the few who followed the path away from heaven.
"Dean," Cas begged, "please, don't stop."
Sliding in again, Dean shook free of his thoughts and concentrated on the physical sensation of using the angel to give himself pleasure. Reaching out to clutch a handful of feathers and pulling down as Cas's, back arched and spread open to him, he pounded harder, waiting for that glorious moment of release to come.
Looking into the vessel's eyes, he could see what was truly underneath, he could see the light of Castiel's grace behind the blue eyes of Jimmy Novak's body. He could hear the true voice of the angel; the chorus of sound contained in every groan trapped in a human shell that could never replicate such beauty. He could feel the pulse of the power of heaven within him and around him as he came.
Castiel's finish came by his own means as Dean's cry of climax reached it's peak. And Dean knew in that moment. No matter how many had come before, somehow that nerdy little angel of Thursday would be the last one for him.