Addiction
Dean slammed his fist against the wall. How could he have been so stupid? With a sigh of defeat, he collapsed onto the dingy hotel bed. The springs groaned with his weight as he took off his jacket and threw it to the floor. Absentmindedly, he reached out for the bottle of scotch on the bedside table. He opened it and took a swig. After a moment, he took a long draught from the bottle, gulping down the burning liquid. Slowly, he felt the numbness that he desired take over. He set the bottle down with a 'thud' and slumped backwards onto the rock hard mattress. The darkness set in and he drifted off to sleep...
He could feel the presence beside him before he had even opened his eyes. Turning to his left, he saw a tall man with a tan trench coat standing over his bedside.
"Cas..." he mumbled, putting a hand to his aching head, "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You called me," was his growled answer.
Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes, "I was asleep. How could I have called you?"
Castiel took a casual seat next to him, "I was called, so I came. Perhaps you called me while you were sleeping?" His blue eyes were crinkled in confusion.
Dean turned away from the angel. He had been dreaming, he knew it. He could even vaguely recall yelling for Castiel. But, he knew there was no help to be found in angels. They were just the same as the black eyed parasites that Sam... he shook his head. He couldn't think about Sam now. He was far away now. And now, Dean was too drunk and too tired to even be mad anymore. Sam had made his choice. Dean had to move on.
"You can go, Cas," he choked. He could feel the tears coming now and he certainly didn't want that heavenly son of a bitch seeing this weakness in him. "I don't need you. Whatever call you think you heard- Just go."
"I can't do that," Cas said softly, "You are in pain and, from the smell of alcohol, you are not handling it very well. It is my job to protect you. God has a plan for-"
"I couldn't give a damn about God's plan!" Dean swung around to face that annoyingly passive face, "What's the point of me being 'chosen' if I can't even save my own brother!" He slammed a fist onto the mattress. "It doesn't make me a very good chosen one, does it?"
Cas' face didn't betray a hint of anything. Not anger, not confusion, not even a reaction to the volume of his voice. His eyes, those pools of blue remained stationary on Dean's anger ridden face. After a few seconds he said, "He's back on the blood." It was not a question, just a statement of fact. And the fact that Dean didn't react to the contrary made it clear that he was correct. Ruby had Sam and he was gone beyond where anyone would reach him. Dean sighed again and turned away from the angel. The last thing he wanted were for those eyes to see straight through to the heart of his grief.
They remained in silence for, what felt like, hours. Though, in truth, it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. Finally, Cas sat down on the other side of the bed, facing Dean's back.
He could feel those cool eyes boring holes into the back of his leather jacket. As they sat, Dean began to get uncomfortable beneath Cas' unwavering gaze. Intending to break the silence, he turned back around. What he did not expect was for Cas to have gotten closer to him. When he faced him, the angel was less than one foot from him. Dean's breath caught in his throat. Cas was so close that his breath blew softly against Dean's face. It was oddly soothing.
"There is hope for Sam yet," Cas said confidently. Dean stifled a sarcastic chuckle. How could he be so sure when, as far as anyone could tell, Sam was probably trading in his dark brown eyes for a black pair? The thought was too much to bear and sent Dean over the edge.
The tears had begun to pour hot and fast down his face and he put his face into a pillow beside Castiel's hip. Dean felt Cas' body stiffen as the distance between Dean's face and Cas' torso was closed. He hadn't meant to get this close, but it felt better to be close to the angel. No matter how much of dicks the rest of them were most of the time, Cas was different. He had some semblance of empathy. He demonstrated this now by putting a hand on Dean's back. He kept it there, stationary, until Dean felt like sitting up again.
"I appreciate the thought, Cas," he sniffed, "But Sam's caught. He tried to get away from this life but he couldn't. The blood is too addictive to him. Hell, the power that it brings would be addictive to anyone! Even after days in the panic room, he still chose them. This time, I don't know if I'll ever be able to get him back."
This time, Cas did betray some emotion in his face. He tilted his head slightly to one side and furrowed his brow. He looked like a confused puppy. This was comforting to Dean because, if the angel had no response to it, it must be the truth. However, the truth shattered the comfort in moments. Cas knew that this time was different, that Sam had gone too deep, and that it was deeper than he was willing to let "God's chosen one" go to save his brother. Cas would keep him out of this and leave Sam to drown.
"You say that," Cas growled softly, "as if you would be alone in trying to save your brother. You would not."
These words caught Dean's attention. He looked at the perplexed angel and said, "What the hell are you talking about?"
Cas reached out a hand and put it stiffly on Dean's left shoulder. "If you wish to go after Sam, you will not be alone. I will go with you. I will protect you. I will help you save your brother." He slid his hand down to the top of Dean's arm and gripped it, precisely in the place where his handprint was left after ripping Dean from the depths of hell. "When I pulled you from the pit, I made a vow to heaven. A vow that said that I would follow where you lead. I would follow you to the ends of the earth, even to hell once more if it pleased you. I would do anything if it pleased you."
There was something in Castiel's eyes that caught Dean's attention. At first, he couldn't put his finger on it and then he realized where he had seen this expression before. Cas had the same desire and longing in his eyes, when looking at him, that Sam had when staring at demon blood. He was also sure that this same expression was mirrored on his own face. He longed for Cas' comfort, he needed it. He was addicted to the safety and warmth that Cas offered... and Cas felt the same way about him too. He got a rush from Dean's hotheaded leadership in battle and seeing Dean like this, broken and defeated, was killing him.
"Cas..." he whispered, "I can't ask you to come with me. You, of all people, know how dangerous all of this is. You've had brothers and sisters die because of this life and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I lost you too." He put a hand onto Cas' shoulder.
"I am an angel," Cas replied, "not a human. I can withstand this fight Dean. And it would be foolish for you to go in alone. You need me."
"You're right," Dean said gruffly, "I do."
Dean grabbed Cas by the collar and pulled his face forward. Their lips met in the middle and all thought disappeared from Dean's mind. Everything was Cas' lips on his and the way his hair felt tangled through his fingers. There was no room in Dean's brain for thought. At first, Cas was hesitant and awkward. His lips were pursed and the hand on Dean's upper arm was tight and painful. But, after a moment, he began to relax and let Dean's lips move his in a gentle rhythm, opening and closing. Cas' lips were soft and pliable, but not submissive. He didn't let Dean lead the kiss but he didn't overpower it either. They each gave and took from one another as they lay down on the bed that no longer felt that hard.
Cas tugged at the bottom of Dean's t shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. He look Dean in the eyes and then at the red handprint on his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed it before he put his hand gently over the print.
"I will never regret the day I raised you back to life," he said softly, his tone less gravelly than Dean had ever heard it.
Dean slid the trench coat from Cas' lithe frame, undid his tie, and began to unbutton his shirt. There was no time to tell Cas how he felt. Anyway, Dean was sure he already knew. He wouldn't have kissed him back if he didn't. But, truthfully, Dean wasn't sure. All Dean was sure of was that he could not waste time. If he did, Cas might slip away too and he didn't know if he would survive if that happened.
He pushed Cas onto his back and straddled him, his lips buried in the soft hair on Cas' chest. Dean trailed kisses up Cas' neck as his hands drifted lower and lower until they found the waistband of his trousers.
"Dean..." Cas murmured between fervid kisses.
He pulled away slightly, "You can tell me if I'm going too far."
Cas shook his head and brought a hand to Dean's cheek, "No, I just... I like it."
Dean gave him an impish grin, kissed him once more, and began to undo his pants. Following suit, Cas reached up for the snap of Dean's jeans. When they were both stripped down to their shorts, Dean began to lay his mouth softly against the skin just above the elastic strap of the angel's boxers, nipping and licking the soft skin there. Cas ran his fingers through Dean's hair as Dean yanked down the thin garment and wrapped his lips around him. Cas inhaled sharply and then let out a moan as Dean sucked him, arching his back and bucking his hips when Dean employed his tongue, taking in his full length. Cas could barely keep still, his desire was so great. Reaching down, he raked his fingers up Dean's shoulder blades, leaving dark red tracks behind. Dean let out a low groan of pleasure that vibrated through Cas, pushing him over the edge. After taking in every last bit of bliss, Dean sat up and brought the back of his hand lazily across his mouth.
"Heavenly," Dean drawled, a lopsided smile gracing his handsome features.
"Trust me," Cas replied breathily, "that was so much better than heaven."
Dean rolled off of the angel and laid his head on Cas' chest. Cas wrapped one arm around Dean's shoulders and pulled him close. Dean felt as if this place were made for him, here in Cas' arms. He never wanted to leave, so he basked in the glow of his new high. However, it wasn't long before he realized what he was doing. He was here, happily curled up in the arms of an angel, while Sam was god knows where doing god knows what with the black eyed bitch. He sat up suddenly, wrenching himself away from Castiel.
"I have to go," he said, "I'm sorry... I..." The tears were back and Dean put his face in his hands.
The bed creaked as Cas sat up and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was soft and it sounded hurt, "Dean, if that was unsatisfactory-"
Dean let out a choked laugh. "No," Dean assured him, wiping his eyes, "it's not you. I just... I can't drown out the pain."
"I would take it away if I could," Cas said, "Ask anything of me, Dean. I will do anything to bring an end to your suffering."
"No offense, Cas," Dean croaked, turning to face his kind expression, "But I don't think this is a hell you can save me from."
Cas cupped Dean's chin with his hand and brought Dean's mouth forcibly to his. Boldly, he entwined his tongue with the crying man's, the salt of Dean's tears mixing with their kiss. When they broke apart, the full power of Castiel shone through those piercing blue eyes. "I raised you from soul-wrenching perdition once. I can do it again, just demand it of me."
Dean drew in a long breath, "Grip me tight. Make me feel."
They kissed once more, Cas pulling Dean back down onto the bed. Cas let his hands roam over Dean's torso and down to his boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. He wrapped his hand around Dean's arousal, stroking gently and making Dean moan with pleasure.
"I need more," Dean begged, pressing his lips to Cas', "I need all of you. Take all of me, Cas."
With feral growl, Cas grabbed Dean by the shoulders and turned him on his stomach. Getting behind him, Cas pressed his lips to the curve of Dean's neck, kissing every bit he could reach. Grabbing Dean's hips, Cas brought him up to meet his waiting desire. Barely pausing to give Dean a reassuring caress or word, he slid into him. Dean let out a cry and braced his hands against the headboard. Cas put his hands over Dean's entwining their fingers together before moving his hips, thrusting forcefully. So many new sensations were flooding over the two of them so fast that one could not be discerned from another: ecstacy, fulfillment, and the feeling of being more human and alive then either of them had ever been. When Cas was brought over the edge for the second time that night, he was complete, connected to the man he loved. Dean felt Cas' completion as though it had been his own. This was what heaven must feel like: to be carefree in the arms of the person you were meant to hold. Falling back to the mattress, a tangled mess of skin, sweat, and linen sheets, they looked into one another's eyes for an eternity. Dean was content, happy even for the first time in years.
"I love you," he whispered into the softness of Cas' hair, "so damn much." It wasn't forced or obligated. Dean didn't even care if Cas had heard him. This was for him. The only thing that could not be taken away from him in his life of loss. He loved Cas and neither heaven nor hell could change it.
Cas turned to face him, his blue eyes meeting the green of Dean's. "I love you too. For as long as I live." He pulled Dean close, "I swear, by the power I wield, I will not rest until Sam is safely returned to you."
Dean did not reply. Nothing more needed to be said. He and Cas were high above the agony of earth or hell. They rested on their own cloud now and no amount of hate or evil could bring them down.