It was one in the morning, give or take, and Dean was sitting in the bunker's impressive library with a gigantic book in his lap. Although he hadn't read a word in about twenty minutes, having zoned out completely when he'd realized it had been almost three days since Cas had checked in with them. Worry was gnawing at his insides and blurring the words on the dusty pages and he finally gave up and heaved the heavy tomb back up onto the table and rubbed at his eyes.
"You find anything?" His brother asked, materializing at his side.
"Huh? Oh, no." A sigh rushed past his lips. "You heard from Cas?"
Sharp lines of worry carved themselves in the space between Sam's eyebrows at his query and he answered with a quiet, "No."
The two of them fell silent in their mutual concern for their friend, eyes tracking aimlessly over the books and loose papers scattered over the large table until his giant of a brother heaved a sigh of his own and Dean felt a large hand briefly squeeze his shoulder.
"You should pack it in for the night, Dean."
He shook his head, sitting back up and inching forward in his seat to grab the book again. "Nah, I'm not tired."
He could feel Sam's eyes boring a hole into the side of his face and knew that his brother was perfectly aware that he was being lied to. Probably knew, too, that the reason Dean didn't want to go to bed now was because the last thing he needed was to be alone with his thoughts when he hadn't heard from Cas in three days when the angel had promised them he'd check in every day.
"Well at least come help me make some coffee. Stretch you legs, take a break."
Almost as if it took Sam pointing it out, Dean felt the bones in his legs begin to throb; these chairs weren't exactly comfortable and he'd been sitting in them for close to seven hours now. So he heaved himself out of the wooden chair, muscles stiff and trying not to hobble too much as he followed his brother to the kitchen.
They worked in silence, Sam filling the back of the percolator with water while Dean dug the filters out from where they had been pushed back halfway to Narnia.
"So when was the last time you heard from Cas?" Sam asked suddenly, making his stomach twist with a new wave of worry.
He was mildly annoyed that Sam was bringing it up again, though he could tell just from his tone that he'd been reluctant to ask and, in the end, his brother's concern for their angel friend had won out over wanting to keep Dean from feeling even more worried than he already was.
"Three days."
He tried to ignore the alarmed breath that wooshed from Sam's lungs, sure that his brother had hoped he'd have an answer more comforting than the one he'd given. His gut twisted again at the reminder that Sam still did not know about the change in his relationship with Cas and every day that passed he grew more and more guilty when he still could not work up the courage to tell his brother what was going on.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably and the coffee maker bubbled to life, mercifully filling the silence between them.
He supposed he could tell him now. It was a good a time as any. Although the mere thought of having this conversation made him want to puke. The sensation was closely followed by anger at himself for being such a pansy. Why did he find this so difficult? Sam was literally the most open minded, accepting and patient person he knew; he was sure his little brother wouldn't even care, would likely even be thrilled – if Dean knew him at all – that his big brother had finally admitted his feelings for the angel.
He blinked then with the realization that perhaps it wasn't admitting that he was attracted to and in a relationship with another man but that it was with an angel.
He swallowed around the lump in his throat, knowing as soon as the thought entered his head that it was, in fact, exactly what was making him nervous about telling Sam. After he'd lost his shit on him for sleeping with Ruby, he didn't see how his brother could be anything else but pissed that he was now sleeping with a – technically – non human.
But loving an angel and fucking a demon were two different things, right? Ruby had been evil and manipulative and had twisted Sam's brain around into so many knots that she'd gotten him to start the apocalypse and Cas was...Cas was...
He sighed again, his heart beat calming, his nervousness fading, chased away by the sudden warmth spreading through his chest.
Cas was good, and sweet and beautiful and so, so kind and -
"Dean?"
He jerked back into the conscious world, Sam's voice plucking him out of his smitten day dream about Castiel. He fixed wide eyes on his brother, hoping Sam hadn't been prattling on about something the whole time.
Though his brother didn't look angry. The opposite in fact; amusement was tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"You looked like a school girl dreaming about her boyfriend, dude." Sam chuckled.
Strangely enough, at that very moment, all the moisture seemed to vanish from Dean's mouth and he licked his lips, nervousness returning. Sam had hit a little too close with that teasing comment.
'Ok, man. Just tell him. Suck it up and get it over with.' He told himself firmly.
He straighten up and took a deep breath and looked his brother right in the eye. "There's something I have to tell you." He was dismayed to hear that his voice wasn't nearly as strong as he'd wanted it to be.
Sam's amused smile slipped at the very sound of it and he unfolded his arms as he subconsciously turned to fully face his brother, his whole body radiating concern and openness that usually made Dean want to just puke when they were working a job but right now seemed to be a great help in calming his nerves.
He cleared his throat, now understanding why people always seemed so much more willing to give up information to Sam instead of him. "Right, uh," He rubbed the sweaty palms on his jeans, feeling sick. "So...um..."
Sam was looking more and more concerned by the second and Dean was finding it harder to pull air into his lungs, throat constricting painfully.
"Dean?" Sam tried to coax gently, big brown eyes shinning with worry.
"Dammit!" Dean hissed, anger returning. He'd faced fucking Lucifer but couldn't tell his brother he was dating a damn angel? What the hell was wrong with him?
"Dean, you're starting to freak me out, man." His brother laughed nervously, trying to keep the tone light for Dean's sake. "What's going on? You know you can tell me anything."
Something was building in the pit of his stomach, rising upwards, tingling like a ball of electricity in his throat and suddenly words were rushing out of his mouth before he knew what was happening.
"Me and Cas are together!" He practically shouted. He snapped his jaw shut, eyes so wide they were burning painfully.
Between them, the coffee maker continued to rumble quietly, providing some relief from the incredibly awkward silence.
Sam looked shocked, then confused and then a little pissed, all within the span of about a half a second.
"You and Cas are-"
"Yeah."
"Since when?"
"About two weeks."
Sam bit his lip and looked away, walking over to the the fridge and Dean felt his stomach drop through the floor as he watched his brother's back closely.
"What...what are you doing?" He asked through the nausea, trying to sound calm.
Sam was pondering the calender stuck to the fridge and when he finally turned he looked crestfallen. "Man, I owe Charlie fifty bucks." He lamented.
And just like that Dean's inner turmoil ground to a blissful halt in the wake of confusion Sam's off topic comment had caused. "You...what?"
Sam sighed and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. "Charlie. I owe her fifty bucks. You couldn't have waited another six months?"
And then Dean realized what it all meant and familiar, righteous anger burned away any of his previous discomfort. "You and Charlie made a bet on when me and Cas would get together?!"
His brother blinked at him and then ducked his head sheepishly, scooping some sugar in to each of the mugs. "Uh, well, not exactly, no. It was more or less a bet on when you'd overcome your emotional constipation and admit how you feel."
Dean gaped, wanting to say something but completely failing to think of any words for a few long seconds until his brain helpfully came up with, "You're such a dick."
He stomped out of the kitchen and back to the library, knowing that Sam would bring his coffee to him when it was done anyway. Not that he felt like he needed it anymore.
When he sat back down at the table, sweeping his eyes unseeingly over it's messy surface, he felt agitated and wired like electricity was coursing through his veins instead of blood. He wasn't sure if it was because his worry for Cas was growing more and more every passing minute or because he'd just found out he was literally the last one to realize just how much Cas meant to him.
The dusty old books mocked him silently by the hundreds, the shelves towering around him as if to shut him in and crush him and he glared back at them defiantly.
"I think they're about to surrender." Sam teased gently as he used the coffee mug in his hand to push some books aside and set it down.
He glared at his little brother but was unable to maintain the anger for long; just looking back out over the sea of books on the table drained his energy and he snatched the coffee up and took a greedy sip.
"We're not gonna find anything." He muttered darkly into the steam billowing from the mug.
"Yeah...it's starting to look that way." Sam's long fingers tapped the side of his mug restlessly, eyes flitting between his brother and other points of the room like he wanted desperately to ask something but didn't know how.
"What is is, Sam?" Dean said, extending the invitation.
"Have you tried praying to him?"
"Of course I have. He doesn't answer."
Silence fell between them again and Sam sat down at the table and pulled one of the books towards him. "So. What do we know about this demon?"
It was clearly an attempt to change the subject and Dean latched on to it gratefully.
"Next to fucking nothing." He scratched at the back of his head. "Are we even sure it's a demon? I mean all we've got to go on are a few eviscerated corpses and the completely unreliable recount of an alcoholic hermit." He put his feet up on the table and downed another mouthful of the bitter liquid. "Who, by the way, I'm convinced had at least a touch of schizophrenia..." He trailed off as a feeling of hopelessness coiled around his guts and squeezed.
A demon was slaughtering people one state over. They didn't know how to stop it or could even be sure what it was. Cas was missing...
"You wanna call Garth?" Sam suggested. "He seems to know about a lot of weird, random stuff."
"Maybe tomorrow." Was his non-committal answer. He stifled a yawn.
"Well...guess we should get back to it then." Sam said.
Twenty minutes later and his brother was snoring lightly, drool dripping from his mouth and on to the ancient text carelessly. Just as Dean was contemplating digging his phone out of his pocket to snap a picture there was a loud and resounding knock at the metal door to the bunker, the metallic sound reverberating through the bunker and making both Dean and Sam jerk in their chairs.
Sam looked around, confused as to why he was suddenly conscious. "What was that?" He asked, eyes seeking out his brother.
"Someone just knocked on our door." The confusion and suspicion must have been showing plainly on his face for Sam was already looking worried.
"You sure? People don't knock on our door."
"Of course I'm sure." He snapped, getting to his feet and grabbing one of the guns that had been buried beneath the ever growing pile of books around them.
Sam grabbed another gun, both of them grateful that they always had weapons lying around all over the place, and they slowly, cautiously made their way to the door. When they got there, there seemed to be nothing unusual or out of place to suggest trouble. Then again, that really didn't mean anything.
"Who's there?" Dean yelled through the heavy door.
There was no answer. He looked over at Sam, noticed he was alert and focused. They nodded once to each other and Dean unlocked the mechanism and tugged the door open.
"Cas!" He cried upon seeing the angel sitting on the ground.
His gun slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor and he rushed to kneel beside the angel.
He put his fingers under Cas' chin and gently lifted his head.
"Jesus..."
Cas' face was littered with lacerations and bruises, there was a deep gash across his throat and his clothes were torn, dirty with soot and singed black in places. The trench coat was mysteriously gone.
He tapped the side of the angel's face lightly; Cas' blue eyes were dazed and seemed to be having trouble focusing.
"Cas...Cas, hey." He watched, his stomach sinking, when Cas' eyes glazed over him like he wasn't even there.
"Let's get him inside." Sam said, pulling the angel effortlessly to his feet and half carrying him back into the bunker.
They put him on the couch where he simply gazed dazedly up at the ceiling, blood dripping from the small cuts on his face and streaming from the even bigger gash on his neck.
"Dean...Dean! Get some towels and the first aid kit."
He stared at Sam stupidly, the request not processing. Angels don't need...they can heal themselves. Cas will heal himself.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, looking angry now as he stripped off Cas' tattered suit jacket hastily.
He felt his muscles jump and his legs were moving well before his brain caught up to what he was doing. He gathered a bunch of towels from the closest spot they had stashed some – in their line of work they had towels and first aid kits all over the place – grabbed the first aid kit under the sink in the kitchen and was racing back to the living room before he knew it.
"Holy shit!" He cursed when he returned.
Sam had stripped Cas to his slacks and every inch of bare skin was sliced or burned or bruised and soot clung to him in sweaty streaks like a second skin; only when he'd come to stop beside his brother did he realize the angel had his eyes closed.
Panic choked the air from his lungs instantly and he struggled to breath as he stared uselessly down at his angel.
A sudden sharp pain on the side of his face, accompanied by a loud cracking sound, violently shocked Dean's brain into a reboot.
"Dude, snap out of it, I need your help here!" Sam ordered firmly.
He blinked, "Right." Cas was hurt. He knew how to help hurt people. "Right."
With sudden clarity of mind came the ability to see things a bit more clearly and as he busied himself with pressing a folded towel to the side of Cas' neck, Dean could see now that the angel was in even worse shape than he'd thought. Amongst the scattering of small cuts and soot streaks, he began to pick out bigger and deeper lacerations, some of which were still bleeding freely.
At a glance, it seemed likely that the angel had been in some kind of explosion. By the state of him, he might have been at the very centre of it.
Sam pressed a towel against Cas' side, covering a large tear in the skin that went from his hip bone to the middle of his ribs. Within seconds, blood had soaked through the white cloth.
"Shit...it won't stop bleeding." Sam muttered, more to himself then to Dean.
"Can angels bleed out?" He asked, knowing that if anyone had an answer it would be Sam.
"I don't know." This seemed to cause him great distress and he bit his lip, looking uncertain and worried.
"Should we stitch him up?"
"I don't know...can angel wounds get infected?"
"I don't know!"
They both sighed, feeling helpless and useless. Sam pressed another towel to Cas' side, right over the one that was now soaked through with blood, and the two of them fell silent, wracking their brains for anything that might help their friend.
It was only a few seconds before Dean realized he knew next to nothing about angels and his gut was twisting in disgust with himself. He'd known Cas for years, selflessly accepted his help, took advantage of his friendship and unwavering loyalty and what did he know about him and his? Next to nothing. Now here he was, with Cas injured and unconscious, no idea what had happened or how he could help.
His throat felt tight and his hand shook when he brushed a curl of hair from Cas' forehead. "If you die on me now, Cas, I'll never forgive you." He muttered, voice trembling, feeling sick all over again.
Dean had only been able to indulge in his affectionate desires with Cas openly for a little under two weeks and already the thought of losing him and never being able to run his fingers through his soft, dark hair or steal a kiss when Sam wasn't looking or being able to see Cas show more emotion than he ever had with anyone...his tiny, shy smiles, his big blue eyes, his curious head tilt, the smell of ozone and mountain air that surrounded him -
"He'll be ok, Dean." Sam encouraged softly and only then did he realize his fingers were carding gently, mindlessly, through Cas' hair.
He said nothing, both unable and unwilling to speak, sure that his voice would not work anyway if he tried to squeeze it through his constricted throat. There was no way for Sam to know if what he said was true but he appreciated the sentiment all the same; even if it did leave a bitterness in it's wake.
When his brother sighed, he looked down to see the second towel now soaked trough and he tossed them aside and pressed a clean one to the wound.
"Is it at least slowing down?" He asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.
"Maybe...I can't really tell."
He checked the smaller wound under his own towel and was relived to see that it had stopped bleeding. He stood and collected the dirty towels and retreated to the kitchen to fill a large bowl with warm water.
When he returned, Sam was removing the towel, blood having soaked through it again.
"This isn't slowing down." He scratched at the back of his head. "I think we should stitch it."
When Cas suddenly stirred, they both returned to his side and Dean's hand was immediately in his hair again, stroking soothingly.
"Cas?"
Blue eyes peeled themselves open with difficulty and the hunter was relived to see that they seemed a bit more focused than last time.
"Dean..."
His name passed Cas' lips as barely a breath and his eyes slid shut again as if keeping them open took far too much energy.
He smiled tentatively, overwhelmed with joy that Cas was at least awake, talking and seemed coherent.
"Cas, listen," Sam interjected urgently, seizing their window of opportunity while it lasted, "There's a pretty big cut on your side and it won't stop bleeding. What do we do?"
His optimism faded quickly when Cas' brow crumpled in confusion. "What?"
They shared a look. "You're hurt pretty bad, Cas, we need you to tell us what to do." Sam tried to explain again.
But it did nothing to smooth the uncomprehending expression from the angel's face. "I...I don't-"
As it did with anyone, after a few seconds of consciousness, Cas' brain seemed to bring the rest of his body back online and with it came the sudden and intense wave of pain as it caught up all at once. He saw blue eyes widen, his mouth dropped open and his back arched reflexively against the onslaught of pain.
He cried out, face twisted, teeth grinding and blood rushed from the wound in his side with his squirming.
"Cas, stop!" Sam cried, pressing the towel into his side desperately.
"Tell us what to do!" Dean was trying not to let panic overcome him. He'd never seen Cas react this way to injuries. He'd never seen Cas in so much pain and he didn't know what that meant but knew it couldn't be anything good.
"Where...where is it?" Cas gasped between pained breaths and clenched teeth, his blue eyes watering.
"Where's what?" Sam asked absently, casting about for another towel.
"The wound!"
The brothers just looked at him. "It's on your side, can't you feel it? It must hurt like-"
"Everything hurts!" The angel snarled viciously, the aggressive tone sounding strange coming from the normally stoic man. He took a few deep breaths and then raised a shaking, bloodied hand, his eyes closed once more as if putting all his concentration on trying to deal with the pain. "Put my hand on it, I can't sit up."
Immediately Dean grasped his wrist gently, irrationally worried that the bones under his fingers might suddenly snap if he was too rough, and placed Cas' hand over the wound.
The angel gasped and bit his lip but trailed his finger tips from the bottom edge of the cut all the way to the top, mapping out the area and building a mental picture of the injury in his mind. He then pressed his palm flat over the area, breath hitching, before he told them.
"I think I have enough energy to heal it, at least enough so that it will not be a problem." He voice was rough as he spoke and his eyes began to glow blue behind his eyelids. "I will likely be unconscious by the end of it. This is normal and you should not worry." The brothers watched as the edges of the cut began to glow white and the skin started knitting itself back together. "It may be a few days before I wake up again." His voice trailed off as the wound knit itself closed. "I will...be fine..."
And then he was out, hand slipping away from the now closed gash, the skin raw and red looking but, thankfully, no longer bleeding, and both brothers slumped to the floor with relief.
Two days later and Cas still hadn't woken up.
The only thing that was keeping him from descending into a total panic was that Cas had specifically told them that he might be out for a few days. He cringed at the thought of having to play the waiting game for another day or two, not sure if his frayed nerves could take it.
He poured himself what had to be his fourth or fifth cup of coffee that morning and ignored the jittery tremble in his fingers. He needed something and it was either this or whiskey and he'd be damned if Cas woke up to him being drunk.
He left the kitchen and when he was cutting through the round table room to go back to Cas' bed, Sam suddenly appeared at his side and plucked the coffee mug from his hands.
"Hey!" He cried petulantly, his hands chasing the mug through the air of their own volition.
"Dude, you're going to have a heart attack if you keep pouring coffee down your throat like this." His brother admonished, sounding vaguely annoyed. "Why don't you put your jacked up brain to better use and help me research this demon...or whatever it is."
"How are we supposed to research something we know nothing about?" Dean snapped, his own annoyance, likely fuelled more than a little by the copious amounts of caffeine in his blood, rising to the surface. "I'm not wasting my time pouring over boring ass books while Cas is still hurt!"
Sam shook his head but his eyes had softened. "Fine just...no more coffee, ok?"
Dean walked away, trying not to stomp. He was a grown man dammit, "...drink as much coffee as I want..." he muttered.
When he returned to the bedroom they'd put Cas in he was both disappointed and unsurprised to see no change in the angel. He remained just as they'd laid him down.
He sat down again in his chair by the bedside and let his eyes rake over the slumbering form of his...friend? No, they were more than that. Lover? Well they hadn't technically had sex yet. Boyfriend? He cringed. That just sounded weird.
He sighed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot lately, and sat back.
They'd stripped him of his ruined clothes and thrown them out as they'd been shredded well beyond repair and then Dean had kicked a bewildered Sam out of the room and proceeded to painstakingly wipe the angel's skin clean, gently scrubbing away the soot and dried blood from around the still unhealed wounds until Cas was once again clean.
And since then he'd been sitting and drinking coffee and waiting for Cas to wake up.
Even though Cas had told him he'd be fine a part of him still needed to see the angel awake and talking coherently before he'd fully believe it. Cas had a way of downplaying his own problems. Whether he did it on purpose to make Sam and Dean feel better or...no, it was probably just to make them feel better.
He groaned and buried his head in his arms atop the bed. He was completely incapable of going more than five minutes without mooning over Cas and it was absolutely ridiculous.
The sound of the bed sheets rustling made his head snap up so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.
His heart leapt into his throat. Cas was coming to!
He grabbed the angel's hand and squeezed, grinning from ear to ear when he finally got to see those blue eyes for the first time in nearly three days.
"Hey Cas." He said quietly, rubbing up and down his angel's arm.
"Dean?" His eyes slipped closed again, brow crumpling. "What happened? Where am I?"
"Hey, relax. You're safe and, er, relatively unharmed. Just, give your brain a second to catch up."
"You and Sam ok?" Cas asked, dropping his usual formal grammar in his exhaustion.
Of course the angel was asking if they were ok. He'd nearly been killed and spent two and a half days in an angel coma and the third question out of his mouth is if they'd been hurt.
"Yes, Cas, we're fine." He deadpanned.
"I don't remember what..." He trailed off and Dean watched realization slowly widen the angel's eyes until he swallowed jerkily. "Never mind. I remember now."
The pallid colour of Cas' face and the sudden stiffness of his body made fingers of worry tickle his insides.
"What happened?" He asked carefully.
He swallowed again, eyes blinking rapidly, staring straight ahead. "I'm sorry I didn't call." His voice was airy and completely checked out and it took Dean a split second to realize Cas was going in to shock.
He was on his feet so quickly that his chair toppled backwards and clattered to the floor.
"Hey, hey, hey." He called, squeezing Cas' hand with one of his and cupping the side of his face with the other. "Cas, it's ok, man, snap out of it."
"I have to go." The angel suddenly declared, moving to get out of the bed, eyes still eerily vacant.
But Dean pushed him down surprisingly easily, "No Cas, you just woke up, you have to rest."
"Dean, my garrison-"
"Can wait."
"You don't understand-"
He struggled against Cas as the man tried to throw him off. "SAM!" He called.
"Dean, let me go!"
He felt guilty for being grateful that Cas was still incredibly weak, although he was still losing the struggle. That is until Sam appeared in the doorway, immediately assessed the situation and pushed Cas down to the bed again and they both ignored the menacing glare being directed at them.
"Let. Me. Go." The angel ground out.
"Cas you're just going to end up getting yourself hurt if you don't let yourself rest." Sam reiterated.
He finally collapsed back onto the bed, nearly panting, but his glare held firm. His eyes fluttered closed and pinpricks of blue light blasted out through all the cuts littering his body and he was suddenly whole again.
This time when the angel sat up Dean held out a hand to stop Sam from pushing him back down with a small shake of his head. If Cas wanted to ignore them and find out what being in shock felt like when you didn't give your brain a minute to calm down then fine.
To his credit, Cas did make it to his feet, a pair of Dean's plaid pyjama bottoms the only thing covering him, but only managed to remain standing for about two seconds before he wobbled and Dean had to catch him when his legs gave out.
"Told you so." He said as he and Sam helped him back in to the bed.
Cas' glare merely intensified, though it didn't hold it's usual weight; his blue eyes were dim and a little unfocused and his grip on Dean's arm was weak. "Shut up, Dean."
Sam expertly turned his laugh into a cough at the last second.
Twenty four hours later and Cas was up and walking and itching to jump back in to battle with an intensity that bordered on obsession.
"Cas. Sit the fuck down and drink your tea for Christ's sake, or I swear I'll kick your ass!"
Miraculously, Castiel sunk down on the sofa obediently, though the intensity of his glare did not lessen any, and he picked up his mug of peppermint tea with both hands, sipping it angrily as he glared over the rim at Dean.
After a moment, in which they had a childish staring contest, Cas set the mug back down and said, "You know I could just-"
"If you fly away I'll never speak to you again." Dean cut him off.
It was an empty threat, not only because Dean would never not speak to Cas but because the angel couldn't even mojo his suit and jacket back in to existence, much less take flight and go in to battle, but the angel still seemed to be struggling with whether or not he should take the threat seriously. Finally he deflated with defeat and sunk further into the cushions of the couch, picking at the borrowed ACDC tshirt and casting a distasteful look at the too big plaid pyjama bottoms Dean had loaned him.
"Why don't you tell me what happened now?" The hunter coaxed, having been so far unsuccessful in extracting the story of why Cas had shown up on their doorstep half dead in the first place. He seemed reluctant to talk about it. Dean would have guessed it was because it was a bit too fresh in his mind if he wasn't, well, Cas, the angel who seemed unaffected by things that most people would consider deeply traumatic.
"We...made a miscalculation in our last attempt to neutralize a rising rebellion."
It was more info than he'd gotten in the last week on Cas' whereabouts but he didn't miss the hesitancy in his voice in releasing even that tiny amount.
"And what did that miscalculation cost you?" He pried.
Cas' blue eyes turned down and he fiddled with his mug of tea. "The death of ninety percent of the garrison."
For a moment, or two, Dean felt stunned into silence, unable to come up with anything to say in the wake of that loaded statement.
"I'm sorry." He stuttered eventually, feeling guilty for pressuring Cas to talk.
"Yes." Cas swallowed thickly, eyes glued to the floor. "As am I."
His curiosity was burning hot, several questions sitting on his tongue, but it was easy to tell that the poor guy didn't want to talk about it. "So what happens now?" He asked gently.
The angel merely continued to stare down into his cooling tea. "I don't know. I don't know where the other members of the garrison are, how badly they are injured, how many of them are alive. I don't even know which ones are dead." He rubbed at his forehead as if to dispel a headache, "I don't know where to start. The explosion caught us completely by surprise and it was...enormous." He sighed and rubbed tiredly at his eyes – an expression that was so human it had Dean's chest constricting painfully.
Sometimes the hunter forgot that those 'dick's with wings' were Cas' brothers and sisters and that when Cas said he was fighting a war it meant that every single casualty was the loss of a sibling.
An overwhelming urge to help Cas fix this, to get that saddened, anguished look out of his eyes, enveloped him and Dean leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
"Ok, where did this whole thing go down?" He asked.
"Near Al-Madiq. Egypt." The angel clarified upon noticing Dean's vacant expression.
"Ok, so we start on the battle field? Some ancient temple? Help me out, Cas, I feel like I'm pulling teeth here."
That got the angel to at least look up at him in confusion and he could literally hear Cas' uncomprehending voice in his head 'Pulling teeth? Dean, that makes no sense.'
"Pulling teeth? That makes no-"
"I know it doesn't it just means I feel like I'm having to work really damn hard to get a tiny bit of information from you." He explained patiently.
"I do not think it would be wise to take you with me to recover the bodies of my brothers and sisters." Cas said bluntly. "We were ambushed and those of us that got out barely escaped with our lives. Our enemies could still be there..." His pretty face contorted in a rare show of emotion, this time it was disgust, "...waiting for us to return for the bodies. They know we will."
For a very brief second Dean contemplated asking if going back for the bodies was a good idea at all and then he checked himself, realizing that was probably incredibly insensitive.
Instead he simply asked, "What can I do? How can we help?"
He watched his angel sit back on the sofa, seeming to sink down as far as he could, tea mug clasped loose and forgotten in his hands, before blue eyes raised.
"I just want to sleep." He admitted quietly, like he was ashamed of the need to rest, like he was confessing a sin.
It made Dean's heart ache to hear it. He sometimes forgot what Cas was: a warrior. Constantly on his guard. Constantly being looked to for answers from his brothers and sisters. Constantly fighting, killing, running, clawing for freedom for his family. Never stopping. Never resting.
Now it had caught up to him and he was ashamed of it.
Dean leaned forward in his chair and took the mug from Cas' slack hands, set it down on the end table and turned back to the angel, lacing his fingers through the other man's and pressing a kiss to his shoulder.
"I wish I could tell you there's nothing wrong with needing to rest once in a while and have you actually believe it."
When Cas remained silent it was as good as a heartfelt agreement. He decided not to gloat, though, and instead took a moment to look at their clasped hands when Cas squeezed lightly.
"So you can sleep? I thought you didn't need to." He trailed the fingers of his free hand up the inside of Cas' bare arm.
"We don't, but we can if we choose to. It helps us regain our energy more quickly and it is...nice to be unconscious for a while." Dean looked up in time to catch the frown on Cas' face. "That sounded strange. I just meant it is nice to not think, to shut down."
"I totally get it." He chuckled, wanting to reassure his angel that he was communicating fine.
He was rewarded with a rare smile; one that was big enough to flash a sliver of pearly white teeth.
"You wanna go to bed then?"
"I don't want to get up."
He chuckled again, "Well how about we watch a movie."
"Which one?"
"Well which one do you want?"
"I think it would be a good idea if you were to choose. I don't know many movies." Cas seemed to take a moment to contemplate something. "In fact I don't know any movies."
"Lord of the Rings it is!"
Before they'd even gotten to the part when Frodo gets stabbed with the Morgul blade, Cas was out cold.
Dean shifted slightly to return blood flow to the arm that was between Cas and the back of the couch and grinned down at the slumbering angel in his arms, head of dark hair resting on his chest, hand settled right over his heart.
The smile on his face grew the longer he gazed down at the beautiful creature in his arms. To know the amount of trust Cas placed in him to leave himself so vulnerable in sleep made his chest swell with pride and his arm tightened around the angel subconsciously.
The sound of a camera phone going off made him look over to the doorway where he saw Sam sporting a cheeky grin and lowering his phone.
"Sam..." He warned, gut twisting in annoyance.
"AW!" His brother cried, peering down at the picture he'd just taken.
"I will kill you." Whispered Dean as menacingly as he could without raising his voice.
But his little brother just cackled like a witch and turned to leave. "Charlie's gonna die when I send her this!"
"Sam!" He made to sit up, but Cas stirred and he froze, torn between not wanting to wake the angel up and chasing after his brother and beating the living crap out of him.
"Shhh. Wouldn't want to wake him."
He was forced to watch as Sam pranced away like the giant douche he was. Once he was out of sight it was easier to quell his annoyance and focus all his attention on how to get back at his brother.
By the end of the movie he hadn't been able to come up with anything he felt was good enough to pay Sam back but was distracted from further planning when Cas stirred in his arms and suddenly those ridiculously blue eyes were peering up at him sleepily.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." He murmured, Sam forgotten.
Full lips pulled taught in a groggy smile. He was sure Cas didn't catch the reference but he didn't seem coherent enough to want to ask about it like he normally would and instead stretched languidly, like a cat, his body pressing against Dean's from head to toe and ending with a one armed bear hug around his waist as all his muscles flexed at once, squeezing the air from Dean's lungs.
"Feel better?" He drawled when Cas nuzzled against his chest with a content sigh.
"Yes. Much."
The credits were rolling on the tv and Dean felt fingers slip under the thin fabric of his tshirt and looked down.
As if able to sense Dean's gaze on him, Cas sighed a laugh through his nose and pushed his hand higher over his ribs until his fingertips were ghosting over their target with a barely there touch that sent sparks of electricity shooting unexpectedly along Dean's nerve endings and he stifled a gasp, grasping Cas' wandering hand over his shirt.
"Cas, Sam could walk in any-"
He was cut off when Cas rolled up and straddled his hips, blue eyes suddenly intensely alert, all traces of sleepiness vanished and replaced with a devilish intent that had no business shining in an angel's eyes.
Cas leaned down, hands bracing against Dean's chest, and the hunter realized he was already holding his breath when the angel's lips pressed against his softly. Cas was always soft, always gentle; his touches light as a feather and just as teasing.
He'd always wondered if it was because Cas was worried he'd hurt him with his super strength if he wasn't careful or if that was just how Cas showed affection. Either way, he loved it; it was so different from how the angel usually was. Fierce and strong and brutal – a warrior. A fighter. A killer.
And then there was this side of him. This soft, caring, gentle being that only he was allowed to see; with his shy smiles and blue eyes overflowing with love and loyalty, it made Dean feel weak in the knees and he pushed up into the kiss, pressed their lips together more firmly, let his hand slip beneath the back of Cas' tshirt and slide over the shallow ridges of muscle along his back.
When Cas' mouth opened he immediately dipped his tongue inside, chasing the flavour that he was sure was unique to the angel alone – something like rain water and the faint taste of peppermint from the tea he'd drank earlier.
Cas' slender fingers gripping his hair pulled him back down to earth and he grinned into their kiss.
Not to be outdone, Dean moved his hand from where it was stroking between the angel's shoulder blades and slid it down to the dip in his spine, pushing firmly to bring their lower bodies together tightly and was rewarded handsomely when Cas gasped above him and ground his hips downward reflexively to create wonderful friction that had them both tossing their heads back.
It occurred to Dean then that this was about as far as they had ever gotten physically and a thrill of excitement ripped through him like a shock wave at the prospect of taking it further and showing Cas something new; something that the angel, in his millenniums of existence and knowledge, knew absolutely nothing about.
In this instance, Dean was a master and Cas was the student.
And didn't that sentence just put all kinds of delicious ideas in his head.
"The look on your face worries me." The angel grumbled above him.
Only then did Dean realize the lascivious grin on his face and quickly schooled his features into something a little less pervy, immediately feeling guilty for his enthusiasm about corrupting an angel.
"Sorry." He muttered, unable to wipe the grin off his face completely. When Cas continued to stare down at him in suspicion he decided to elaborate as delicately as possible without sounding too much like a horny teenager. "I'm just excited to...show you something new."
An arching eyebrow and a twist of full lips momentarily distracted him and he almost missed what Cas said next.
"You know, I've been stationed on earth for a very long time. I've likely seen more in the way of sexual fantasies and fetishes than you even know exist."
He blinked rapidly, caught off guard, once again, by Cas' blatant and brutal honesty. But he recovered almost instantly, sliding his hand down the back of Cas' pants and slipping his middle finger teasingly down to press against the angel's entrance.
Blue eyes fluttered and Cas' bottom lip caught between his teeth and he groaned, lowering his head to press his face into Dean's neck and giving the hunter the perfect opportunity to whisper huskily in his ear.
"But you've never felt it." He pulled his hand back and felt Cas nip at him in protest. "You've never been the one with hands all over you." He moved his own hands over every inch of Cas he could reach, skin sliding over skin leaving his palms hot and Cas even hotter. "You've never had someone's tongue sliding warm and wet over your skin," He felt Cas' hips twitch downward and smirked, pressing his lips closer to Cas' ear and lowering his voice, "You've never felt someone's hot mouth around your cock." The angel groaned, low in his throat like a lion's purr and it went straight to Dean's dick. "You've never felt someone stretch you open and fill you up until you can't even think straight and-"
He was abruptly cut off when Cas reared up and crushed their lips together, grinding his hips down into Dean's so hard that he was momentarily concerned that he might come right then and there.
Cas then pulled back and looked him right in the eye, pupils blown wide and cheeks flushed red, and ground out like he was crushing gravel between his teeth, "If you don't show me all of those things right now, I swear to my own Father-"
Dean sat up abruptly and pushed Cas backwards, settling between his legs again before the angel even knew what hit him. "No need to threaten, Angel." He grinned, "I'd already fully intended to."
He was met halfway to a searing kiss, mouths already open and he briefly allowed Cas to gain the upper hand but pulled back when the angel rose up on one elbow. He ignored the confused look and pushed him back down, fixing his most intimidating stare, "Stay."
Cas' eye widened a tiny bit, which he probably wouldn't have noticed had he not been watching so closely, and he felt a trill of power tingle through his veins just knowing he was having this effect on Castiel; just knowing that the angel was obeying him without question.
He grasped the hem of the ACDC shirt and pushed it up, slithering down Cas' body a bit so that he could trail his tongue across the angel's navel right where his skin met the waistband of his pants and he felt firm stomach muscles jump under his tongue.
Cas' skin was incredibly soft, like he was licking silk and was salty like ocean spray and he licked a trail over the other man's stomach greedily, curling his fingers around Cas' hips in encouragement when he felt tentative fingers in his hair.
As he worked his way upward, pausing momentarily to pull the tshirt off, Cas' breathing became steadily more laboured and by the time he swept his tongue up the side of his neck and then around the shell of his ear, the angel already looked thoroughly undone; hair messy from where he'd been tossing his head back and forth, cheeks flushed red and lips swollen from where he'd bitten back moans.
"Dean." Cas breathed when he pulled away, hands sliding over the hunter's biceps with unabashed appreciation.
"See something you like?" He asked, feeling a little breathless himself under Cas' gaze.
"Mmmm...I love your arms." The angel purred, fingers digging in to the ridges of muscle along his forearms. "So strong."
He flexed unconsciously when Cas' hands roamed back up and over his biceps, relatively sure he was as hard as he'd ever been after hearing his angel praise his body in such a heady voice.
A sudden idea came to him then but he would need more room. He grabbed Cas' hands and stood from the couch, pulling him up. "Follow me."
He led the angel over to the floor in front of the fireplace before realizing that it might be a little uncomfortable but he blinked and then there was a pile of fluffy looking exotic blankets and pillows, like what you might see in a gypsy home, and Cas had a crooked grin on his face.
"Something like that?" The angel said with the quirk of an eyebrow.
He returned the grin and pushed Cas down on the blankets, pulling off his own tshirt before sinking to his knees and gently coaxing the other man's knees open, fire igniting in his belly when Cas's legs fell open obediently so he could settle between them.
A few short seconds later and Dean had Cas writhing and panting and gasping all over again. He watched, enthralled, as muscle flexed and relaxed under golden skin, glistening in the light of the fire; hips undulating rhythmically into Dean's hand as he pumped Cas' cock.
Breathy little sighs and choked off cries slipped past the angels lips every so often but mostly the room was filled with the sound of his heavy breathing while he twisted the blankets in his hands so hard they began to tear.
When Dean tightened his grip and pulled long and slow and firm up Cas' shaft, successfully dragging a loud and equally slow moan from Cas, he smirked in triumph. His angel was holding back and he was determined to make him scream.
Emboldened by his success so far, Dean swiped his thumb over the head of Cas' cock in a swirl and was rewarded with a startle cry and a violent buck of his hips.
"Dean!" Cas cried, eyes scrunched shut and hands releasing the shredded blankets to grip the hunter's forearms. "Dean..."
The sight of the angel laid out before him and undone by his hands was driving Dean towards the edge of orgasm without even being touched and he willed himself to calm down and take a breath. There were so many things he wanted to show Cas but he knew this would not be their only time together and so forced himself to prioritize so he didn't come like a teenager before making good on his promise to show Cas everything he'd said he would.
Glancing back up to make sure the angel still had his eyes closed, Dean leaned down and chased his hand back down Cas' cock with his mouth.
He heard Cas shout in what he knew from experience was the first time shock of unexpected intense pleasure. His whole upper body curled inwards, teeth bared in a snarl before he fell back onto the blankets and his back arched sharply.
A second later and Dean felt fingers in his hair gripping tight enough to almost be painful and a groan worked it's way out of his throat, vibrating around the cock in his mouth and he pulled up, smoothly keeping his lips and fingers touching for continuous friction. When he swallowed Cas down again he looked up to see just how for gone the angel was.
Cas' head was thrown so far back that Dean was staring at the underside of his chin and exposed throat; his eyes raked down the length of the lithe body beneath him, devouring the sight of Cas' taught muscles and tanned skin as the angel continued to try and subdue his bodie's reactions.
The hunter had always loved a challenge and all it took was a split second mental image of Cas writhing on his cock and screaming his name for Dean to decide to seriously up his game.
He sped up his rhythm, falling in sync with the roll of Cas' hips.
"Dean...Dean..." Cas gasped.
He twisted his hand at the base of the angel's cock and slid his hand from Cas' stomach to roughly swipe the pads of his fingers over a nipple and then Cas really did cry out, sounding shocked and a little panicked.
Alarmed that something had gone wrong, Dean pulled up, searching Cas' face and body language, but Cas' whole body was undulating; his mouth open and gasping, eyes glazed with pleasure and on the verge of insanity.
"Dean!" The angel gasped again and finally Dean realized what it was that he was hearing in Cas' voice.
He was overwhelmed.
The hunter mentally cursed himself for forgetting that this was Cas' first time and that he needed to take things slow. This was a creature that had only started to feel base emotions less than a year ago and was still struggling to handle those. Someone that had never really been touched beyond a brief hug, not that he knew how to deal with those either, and here Dean was going down on him like a veteran.
He moved up and brushed the hair off Cas' face gently, pressing a kiss to his neck and then his jawline.
"Hey." He whispered, turning Cas' face so that they were looking at each other. "It's ok, just breath."
Cas' eyes slid closed and now that Dean wasn't doing his best to drive him mad, his breathing quickly came under control again.
"You ok?" He asked after a moment.
"Yes I...have never felt so much...all at once, I was..."
"I little overwhelmed?" The hunter supplied helpfully.
Cas nodded shakily but smiled, "It seems I have much to learn from you."
He pressed a light kiss to Cas' cheek again and then his other cheek and then his forehead and then one behind his ear until Cas giggled – actually giggled – and jerked away.
Delighted at his discovery, Dean pulled back, "You're ticklish?" When Cas merely bit his lip and did not answer, blue eyes full of both arousal and amusement, Dean just shook his head and dipped to lick a wet path along the ridge of Cas' collar bone. "This just keep getting better and better."
He worked his way down the angel's body, reminding himself to take it slow and allow Cas time to adjust to the brand new sensations his body was feeling. He dipped his tongue briefly into Cas' belly button, earning another giggle and he paused to smile and press a kiss to his hip because damn that was adorable.
He slid his hands from Cas' knees and up the insides of his muscular thighs, unable to believe that his skin was even softer there, but stopped just before he reached the parts Cas likely wanted him to touch most.
His suspicions were confirmed when Cas let out a growl of frustration when Dean's wandering hands refused to follow their quest through to the end.
"Easy, Cas." He said, injecting a little hardness into his voice so that it sounded a bit more like an order.
It had the desired effect and the angel fell quiet, though his hips continued to roll in tiny circles, his body unconsciously seeking touch, hands twisting in the blankets again to anchor himself.
He decided this was an opportune moment for him to go and fetch some lube, though he was pretty sure Cas was going to disagree.
"Wait here." He said, abruptly jumping to his feet.
Cas jerked at the immediate loss of heat and sat up, eyes wide and a little pissed. "Where the hell are you going?" He seemed unable to believe Dean was no longer on top of him.
Not that Dean thought for a second Cas would be cooling down any time soon, he turned back halfway across the room, and pinned the angel with a hard stare.
"I said wait here."
He was satisfied when Cas swallowed and gave the barest of nods and turned to leave the room. As soon as he was around the corner and out of Cas' line of sight he bolted into a full blown sprint to his room and was back at the doorway to the living room in record time, slowing to a trot before walking back in.
Despite the fact that he'd been gone for about twenty five seconds, it seemed as if Cas had decided that was a bit too long and the sight that greeted him upon re-entering the sitting room made his mouth go dry and cock pulse hot and heavy between his legs.
Cas had laid back again on the blankets, head thrown back, mouth agape, eyes closed in ecstasy and hand stroking languidly up and down his cock. The firelight from the flames behind him cast a soft halo of golden light around his body, making the air shimmer with the heat from the grate.
The sound of the bottle of lube slipping from his numb fingers and hitting the floor made him jump and he scooped it up quickly, feeling heat rise in his cheeks.
"Cas..." He trailed off as he approached, unsure of where he'd intended to take the sentence in the first place.
Those blue eyes peered at him through mere slits and Cas bit his lip harshly, thrusting up into his own hand with a breathy sigh.
"Cas...keep..." He swallowed, eyes following the progress of those long fingers up and then down as he sunk to his knees between the angel's legs, "...keep doing that, ok? Just like that. Don't go any faster until I tell you to."
The other man nodded, intrigue showing through the haze of lust in his eyes and Dean uncapped the lube and spread some over his fingers. He trailed the fingers of his clean hand up the inside of Cas' thigh and stopped to rub small circles into his skin before looking up and saying seriously.
"You have to tell me if I'm hurting you or if you want me to stop, ok?"
A small frown creased Cas' brow. "Dean-"
"Promise me."
Looking quite unsure of why Dean thought he'd tell him to stop any of this, Cas merely nodded, "Ok."
He thought he'd never get over just how much Cas seemed to trust him.
Pushing aside his thoughts to focus on the task at hand, Dean ignored the ache between his own legs and swirled the tip of his finger around Cas' entrance gently, barely even a touch, but it had Cas sucking in a breath anyway.
When he paused to look up, though, the angel was already wriggling his hips, clearly asking for more and Dean was unable to keep the grin off his face. He loved a partner with enthusiasm.
Gently pushing Cas' left knee out further, Dean pushed his finger past the tight ring of muscle and inside.
"Ah!" Cas cried, back arching sharply. His hand stilled on his weeping cock and Dean only had time to worry for a half a second before the angel was grinding down on his hand with a snarled, "Don't you dare stop!"
"Keep your hand moving." The words snapped out from behind his teeth like an order and Cas groaned, pumping his hand up and down his length at the same pace as before. "Good, boy." He praised, loving how Cas' eyes followed his every move closely as he touched himself.
He gently pumped his finger in and out of Cas hole, trying and failing to ignore just how unbelievably tight and hot it was, the mere thought of driving his cock into the tight heat making his dick pulse, painfully hard.
He pushed a second finger inside and Cas squirmed at the stretch so he rubbed soothing circled on his abdomen until his squirms turned into something closer to writhing and he added a third finger.
"Dean! Please!" The angel begged, rolling his hips and fucking himself on Dean's fingers.
And sweet Jesus if that wasn't every bit as hot as he thought it would be...
"Please! Please, Dean..."
"I got you, Cas, I got you." He pushed his fingers deeper, stretching the angel further, mouth watering at the sight of the digits pushing inside the angel's body, searching for that perfect spot.
Suddenly Cas arched off the blankets, and the sound of fabric tearing ripped through the air. "AH, FUCK!"
Dean was momentarily frozen in shock but recovered quickly, encouraged by the fact that Cas was so far gone that he was cursing like a sailor.
He hit the small bundle of nerves again, eliciting another cry from his lover, although this one wasn't actually words, just a strangled sort of noise while Cas tossed his head from side to side.
Over and over again he hit Cas' prostate until he was just a writhing mess of shattered nerve endings underneath him.
So focused on his goal was he that when the angel suddenly snarled, "Enough!" he didn't realize what was happening until he was flat on his back and looking up at an eyeful of completely debauched and ravished warrior of god.
"Fuck. Me. Now."
Not needing to be told twice and hanging on to his self control by a thread anyway, Dean used one hand to clamp around Cas' hip and lift him up and the other to line up his cock.
Now, he'd planned to use the last shred of self control on gently easing inside Cas and allowing him to adjust to the feel of his larger than average size but it seemed as if the angel had other plans and Cas abruptly sunk down onto him, sheathing Dean's cocked inside him fully in one movement.
"Jesus Christ, Cas!" He cried, having to try hard not to come right there and then.
His fingers dug themselves into Cas' thighs so hard he wouldn't be surprised if his nails broke the skin. But he needed something to ground himself; Cas was hot and so fucking tight and the hunter forced several long breaths through his nose, grateful that the angel was taking a moment to adjust as well.
"You gotta warn a guy!" He finally managed to gasp accusingly, resisting the urge to roll over and just fuck Cas into the floor.
"I was tired of your teasing." Cas' voice was lower and gruffer than Dean had ever heard it, rumbling up from within his chest. He adjusted his hips and leaned forward to press their lips together but they broke apart after only a few seconds, panting hard and pressing their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath.
Dean let his hands wander, more to distract himself than anything else, and slid the palms of his hands from the globes of Castiel's ass up his back and over his shoulder blades. But when he raked his nails back down, the angel gasped and arched his back, pressing their stomachs together and causing his cock to slip a little and before he knew it his hips were flexing upwards powerfully and he was driving back in; the feel of Cas' walls pulsing around him tightly making him groan.
He pulled out again and drove back in and Cas pushed himself down, hands bracing on Dean's chest, head thrown back as Dean pushed up in to him over and over.
"Dean..."
He angled his hips, and drove in harder, deeper, searching for that perfect spot again.
Just like last time, he knew the second he found it because Cas cried out again, fingers digging in to Dean's skin and no doubt leaving little crescent indents behind.
"Dean." Cas voice suddenly sounded more coherent and had a note of urgency to it that made him look up from where their bodies were joined just in time to see white light shining bright through Cas' eyes. "Dean, close your eyes!"
He did so immediately but kept up the punishing pace as he thrust up into the angel's body, both unable and unwilling to stop now. Besides which, he was pretty sure Cas was about to have the best orgasm of his life.
Gripping Cas' hips hard enough to leave bruises, Dean's thrusts became sporadic and heat was coiling tightly in his belly, ready to spring just as Cas' walls squeezed down on him and he was gone.
White light and then black spots exploded across his vision as he came down from the high of the best orgasm he could ever remember having and he willed himself to remain conscious. It took a few seconds but eventually Dean managed to open his eyes and felt his mouth go dry for the second time that night.
Cas still sat in his lap, Dean's softening cock still inside him, cum dripping down both their chests, but for a moment the hunter didn't notice any of that for, sprouting magnificently from the angel's back were two monstrous, beautiful, white wings.
"Cas..." He trailed off, once again unsure of where that sentence was supposed to have gone.
He reached out slowly, wanting desperately to touch and see if the feathers were as soft as they looked, but he realized at the last second that the angel still had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily, so he moved his hands to grab both of Cas', prying them loose with a wince.
"Cas." He repeated, locking their fingers.
The angel opened his eyes but it looked as if his eyelids were made of led and he wavered slightly in Dean's lap, so he lifted Cas up and off him and guided him to lie down on his side, wings fanned out behind him.
A few minutes passed in which Dean was content to run his finger's through the angel's hair while he caught his breath, his own eyes dropping heavily with the sated call of sleep.
"You ok?" He asked after a few more moments.
The sound of the fire crackling behind them filled the silence until Cas finally registered the question and grunted to the affirmative and Dean chuckled before standing on wobbly legs.
"Don't go anywhere."
As he was leaving the room, he swore he heard the angel mutter something along the lines of, "As if I could." When he returned with a towel to clean the angel up, Cas had shifted so that one of his wings was tucked under him like a feathery mattress, the other one draped over his side like a blanket.
When Dean approached, Cas lifted his wing in invitation and, noticing that Cas' had already mojo'd himself clean, tossed away the towel and dropped to his knees.
With Cas body fitting perfectly against his, the heat of the fire and the soft, comforting weight of Cas' wings around him, Dean was asleep within minutes.
That is until something loud and obnoxious startled him into the conscious world. He jerked awake, looking blearily through a curtain of silky white feathers for the source of the noise, anger welling up within him.
It took him less than two seconds to spot his brother's horrified face over by the doorway and he smirked, anger vanishing.
He thrust his arm out from between the edges of Cas' wings and flipped his brother off, "Take a picture of this why don't ya?!" He cackled evilly when Sam stumbled backwards in his hasty retreat.
Then Cas was pulling his arm back within the confines of their warm, soft, feathery haven and muttering something about them being childish and grumbling at him to go back to sleep.