A Destiel oneshot that should probably only be read by mature-aged people.

I don't own Supernatural. I'm just weirdly invested in it.


Dean was lounging back on the beat up motel couch, a beer in one hand. Sam had long since gone to bed in the room leading off from the small room Dean was in. Dean's duffel bag was sitting on the single bed in the corner and Sam's laptop lay untouched on the circle table. The television gave off a dull glow, an old black and white horror movie playing. Dean watched the screen, barely paying attention to what was going on. He sipped at the bottle in his hand, his eyes closed. The brothers had just finished hunting a violent poltergeist, which was creating havoc in a grocery store, doing the usual things a poltergeist would do. Sam's snoring was heard over the crappy sound the TV was giving off, and Dean was close to falling asleep. He sculled the rest of his beer and placed it on the floor at his feet. He searched for the remote, and pressed the red button, and the TV flickered to blackness, the room dark and quiet once more.

Dean stumbled over to his bed and fell on top of it, kicking his bag off lazily. The bag hit the floor with a dull thud, and the older Winchester slipped into a deep sleep with ease, suddenly realizing how exhausted he was. He found himself in the hallway of what he immediately recognised as the house he once lived in. When Mary had died. He made his way into Sammy's nursery, his eyes quickly finding his brother. Sam was gurgling, eyes bright. Dean longed for the days when everything was happy again. His eyes flickered to the door, and he watched John Winchester walk in. Dean's heart ached for his father. John made his way over to Sam's crib, whispering soothing words to him. Dean watched in horror as he saw blood drip down next to Sam's head, and he saw John look up. There was his mother, stomach covered in blood. "NO!" Dean cried out, at the same time as his father. The roof burst into flames, the body of his mother igniting. He watched John grab baby Sammy, and hand him to what Dean recognised as himself, when he was younger. All of a sudden, Castiel was standing in front of Dean, a hard look on his face.

"Dean! You have to wake up!" Cas said, grabbing Dean's shoulder, his hand fitting easily into the mark he made when he raised Dean from perdition.

Dean bolted up into his bed, sweating and gasping for breath. Castiel was standing over him, and Dean grabbed onto the familiar man's hand, all pretences of personal space leaving Dean's mind. Seeking comfort, Dean pulled Cas to him, and Cas hesitantly put an arm around Dean, who leaned against the angel. Castiel sat there, unsure of what to do. He was not used to this Dean. This Dean was sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder. The Dean he was used to would push Cas away, claiming something about personal space.

Dean looked up at Cas, tears pooling in his eyes. Cas saw a movie like this, where the girl was upset, and a man was comforting her, much like Cas was comforting Dean. The man had tilted his head and locked lips with the girl, and it seemed to make her feel better. Maybe Cas should copy the man?

Trying to copy what he had watched, he tilted his head and pressed his lips to Deans, who stilled, confusion written all over his face. Dean pushed Cas away slightly, eyes wide.

"Dude, what the hell?" He exclaimed. Castiel was unfazed.

"I was copying something I saw the other week. A girl was crying and a man was comforting her in a position much like we were, and he did that and it seemed to make her better, so I thought I would try it because I do not like seeing you sad" Cas replied calmly.

Dean blinked, before pushing Cas roughly against the headboard of the bed, and pressed his lips to Cas' in a hard kiss. Dean closed his eyes tightly, enjoying the moment. He needed something, anything and this was so fucking wrong, but it felt so right. Castiel replied to the kiss with willingness, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. Cas felt something pooling in his stomach, but he was unsure as to what it was. Dean ripped Cas' trench coat off, his tie following quickly. Cas' blue eyes met Dean's green ones, and all sensibility was lost as Dean yanked open Cas' shirt. Cas, being unexperienced as to what Dean was doing, let him. He focused on Dean's mouth, biting his bottom lip gently. Dean moaned into the angel's mouth, and Cas felt pleased to know he had done something right. This was much like what the pizza man and the babysitter were doing. He hoped Dean would not hit his rear though, that seemed like it would hurt. Dean sucked on Cas' tongue, pulling his shirt off with ease. Cas roamed his hands down Dean's side, gripping his hips tightly when Dean brushed his hand against Cas' bulge. Cas bucked his hips up, an involuntary groan slipping out of his mouth.

"Dean…" Cas mumbled through Dean's rushed kisses. Dean pulled back and their eyes locked.

"I get it Cas; you've never done this before. Let me teach you…" Dean offered, his hand tugging down Cas' pants. Cas nodded eagerly, watching Dean excitedly. Dean's pupils grew when he realised Cas was going commando. He let out a groan and shook his head. "Fuck, Cas. Do you even wear anything underneath your pants?" He asked, and was responded with a quick shake of a head. Dean rubbed his palm against Cas' cock, sending white-hot pleasure down Cas' spine. Cas hardened and his icy blue eyes clouded over in lust.

Dean kissed down Cas' jawline slowly, working his way down his neck, nipping at the skin, and then soothing the bites with his tongue. Dean sat up, straddling Cas' thighs, and pulled his own shirt off, before grabbing Cas' hands and guiding them to his faded jeans.

"Undo them, Cas" He commanded, and Cas happily obliged, liking the feeling of Dean on him. Dean was soon stripped of his pants, left only in his boxers. He rocked his hips forward, and Cas groaned at the friction of satin on his bare cock. Dean smirked. "You like that, baby?" He asked huskily, and Cas responded with a low moan.

Dean's boxers strained, his own cock itching to spring free. Cas ran his hand along the elastic band of them, dipping one finger in to stroke Dean lightly. "Dammit, Cas" Dean growled, who leant down to capture Cas' mouth with another desperate kiss. Dean used one hand to reach over to the draw beside the bed and hastily pulled out a bottle of lube. He slicked his fingers with it, and without asking, slipped one finger into Cas, who let out a sharp gasp, followed by a loud moan.

"Cas! Be quiet, you'll wake up Sam!" Dean whispered hastily, flashing a glance over to the door. He returned his gaze the angel underneath him who was like putty in his hands. He inched another finger in, and Cas whimpered.

"Shh, Cas, baby. It's ok" Dean crooned, inching Cas' thighs further apart. Impatient, Cas used his abnormal strength to rip apart Dean's boxers, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of Dean, who shifted into a more comfortable position. "This'll hurt a bit Cas, but I promise it will feel better" He murmured, as he pushed his way into Cas slowly.

"Oh, fuck!" Cas groaned, pushing his hips up to allow Dean in deeper. Dean thrusts slowly, enjoying the power he has over Cas. He wrapped one hand around Cas' length, running his hand along his cock slowly, using the pad of his thumb to slide over the slit on the head. Cas closed his eyes and arched back against the bed.

"Dean! I'm going to- I need to…" Cas gasps. Dean nods and pushes himself faster, his hand matching the pace of his hips.

"It's ok Cas, baby" Dean whispered into his ear, his breath tickling Cas' neck. Cas shuddered violently, crying out as he reached his limit. Dean wasn't far behind him, filling Cas with his heat. He rode out his high, helping Cas down from his. He collapsed onto Cas' chest, pulling out slowly.

His chest rose and fell heavily, and he looked into Cas' eyes, giving him a bright grin. He shifted to the side, rolling Cas onto his side. Dean fit his body around Cas' easily, his arm draping over his stomach. He drew light patterns, his breathing still hitched. He leant closer to Cas, trailing his fingernails up Cas' abdomen.

"Don't tell Sammy" He whispered, before closing his eyes and drifting off into a peaceful sleep involving a certain Angel of the Lord.