Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been, never will be.
AN: Written for schmoop_bingo, kiss- first
Dean wanted to say he been planning this, in truth he'd been avoiding it like the plague… and well considering the whole thing with Pestilence that was probably not the best choice of words. But something in those deep crystal blue eyes had made him snap. Something in how fragile his angel, and he refused to think of Cas as anything other than an angel, had become and how much fire still burnt inside him caused Dean to forget for a split second why he wouldn't let himself do this. That split second was all it took for him to breach the small distance between them (thankfully, becoming more human hadn't helped his angel's sense of personal space).
Warm fiery lips pressed against Castiel's. A small earthy gasp escaped on a startled puff of air. He'd dreamt of this, of finally tasting his hunter and he hungrily fell into the warmth.
Dean knew this was every conceivable kind of wrong, the kind that no God-given "Get Out of Hell Free" card would trump. But Cas' was so intense, giving himself into the touch; Dean couldn't stop if he wanted to. His tongue played across the line of his angel's lips. The surprisingly soft skin seemed to tremble as he laved it with small tentative strokes, finally giving way on a shallow whimper. He moaned deep his own response as his tongue gently dipped into Cas' mouth, feeling the warmth of his angel.
Cas' mouth opened further, encouraging the play of tongues in his mouth.
Before he could explore Cas' mouth further, Dean slowly pulled back; a pained, wanton sound brushing passed his lips. Somehow his hands had gone to cup Castiel's face; the angel leaning into the fingers rubbing soothing circles along his stubbled jaw.
Dean was stunned at himself and his angel. His green eyes shown as they searched Cas', trying to decipher the truth hidden in aeon old eyes, see any hint of how epically he'd messed them up .He tried to find the words, something to say that could make this alright, a way to apologize for taking advantage of the angel who had put his faith in him so many times, only to get hurt in the process.
Before Dean could speak, Cas growled, blue eyes dark and dangerous, "Do not even consider apologizing for that or I shall find the strength to smite you where you stand."
Dean barked a breathless laugh at his panting angel, and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. "Okay," he chuckled, "okay, no apologies." He rubbed their foreheads together, nuzzling against Cas' rough cheek, his question soft puffs of air against the angel's skin, "What if I did it again?"
"I believe that would be acceptable," Cas smiled a shy, playful smile as he fisted his hands into Deans worn t-shirt and pulled his body closer.
"No smiting?" Dean chuckled.
"No smiting," Cas assured.
Maybe Dean hadn't planned it. Maybe he'd thought he'd messed up royally. But maybe, he was wrong.