It was another night.

The rain was coming down heavily now, creating a torrent of sorts that beat heavily on the old motel, its walls creaking and groaning in protest at the unexpected assault. The glow of the building and its rooms created a hazy-like view in the distance. The moon was hidden behind a plethora of gray-ridden clouds, its presence obscured and intoxicated by nature.

Dean Winchester was also intoxicated, but for different reasons. He was currently squinting his eyes toward a very familiar being standing in front of him…a being that tremendously resembled the angel of the Lord. But there was no way in hell that this was Cas.

The person in front of him was obviously a girl. Dark, wavy hair, a flawless complexion. White blouse with a little tie, complete with an ebony-skirt that hugged her form and left little to the imagination. She also had a very familiar tannish trench coat that gave her a look of indifference in that sexy way. Big breasts—hot damn. And those eyes…those azure-heaven blue eyes that reminded him of skies and oceans and vast depths of utter perfection.

"Cas?" he managed to croak out in his drunken stupor. Sam was god-knows-where again; having thrown another one of his little rants and then shooting him an epic bitch face he had hiked up on foot to another town in search of a job. Throwing a tantrum as usual, the little bitch. So the elder Winchester had literally said screw it, and had decided to have a hunter's night to himself nurturing his wounded pride and ego until he set off to look for Sam the next morning.

Only now, this female angel of the Lord was currently in the motel room with him.

Castiel frowned. "I need your help." He seemed completely oblivious to his changed body, and as usual the little shit pressed a little too close to comfort.

Dean groaned. "I can…freaking see that. What the hell happened man? And please, by all means feel me up with your double melons but I can't guarantee you this won't end well."

"My apologies." He—shit, no, she—took a step back and frowned at him, continuing to observe him.

Dean just stared at her, waiting. "Don't pause on my account. What happened?" he gestured sarcastically.

"I'm afraid Gabriel has a strange sense of humor," Castiel said gravely. Her voice was now ten times sexier, but still had that sense of calm yet urgently that only Cas could pull off. And as she explained, Dean's sobriety slowly slipped away as he caught himself staring at those dry lips he knew so well. Only now, he thought of about ten different places those dry, pretty lips could wrap themselves around. They were a tender coral color, he decided boldly, a shade that God himself could not possibly resist. Now would that be considered incest? he mused silently, as Castiel continued to talk.

"—and that's why I need to have intercourse with you."

"Hah?" He nearly fell off the bed as the word threw him violently back into a slip of reality. "Why don't we," he said drunkenly, his mind teetering on the edge of something dangerous. "Sex. Hmm yeah. I like that."

Castiel nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's the only way to fix this and I knew I could count on you."

"Damn right."

"I truly appreciate this, Dean."

"You better. I'm real good."

"Yes."

The two continued to stare at each other for a little while, until Dean broke the eye contact and flopped down on the edge of the bed, head in hands. "Damn it. What am I doing?"

Castiel frowned, shifting slightly, her gaze lowering. Her eyelashes were thick and prominent against her skin as she suddenly tilted her head to the side. "You are going to have intercourse with me, I believe."

But Dean was lost by this time, and the multiple drinks of that night were running a course through his veins. The idea that had been voiced, regardless of origin, now imitated a fire that could not be quenched nor expelled now that it existed, and Dean would be damned if he didn't taste that heavenly fire. Without warning he was back on his feet and had reached up, pulling Castiel's face into his own, devouring her lips completely.

Without hesitation Castiel's mouth opened and allowed the hunter to violently force himself in, no boundaries. He tasted each and every crevice of the angel's mouth, exploring the warmth with his own tongue. And Castiel—bless her—actually fucking responded with action of her own. She actually groaned a little as Dean forced her hips parallel to his waist, and as he grinded into the angel of the Lord she bit his lip.

"What the fuck, Cas?" He pulled back and licked over the stinging spot. "Forget it; that was kinda hot. Where did you learn to kiss like that?"

Castiel frowned. "The pizza-man. In all honesty, I do not see why we need osculation if in the end we are only going to commit the sexual act—"

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

The elder Winchester glared at the angel before grabbing her by her sex hair. "Shut up."

A/N: May or may not continue story...