The One Who Gripped You Tight

Hours later, they lay quietly in each other's arms. As their breaths slowed, Castiel spoke, his voice low and hoarse:

"Was that – correct?"

Dean felt a shudder of a laugh go through his body. "Yeah," he said, lips moving against the soft skin of Cas's chest, his voice gruff even to his own ears. "Yeah, that was definitely… right, Cas."

And he meant it, too.

Because if there was one thing that Dean Winchester had thought he'd known backwards and forewords, one thing about which he'd thought he'd known everything there was to know already, it was this: Two people. One bed. The night – young. But apparently, he'd been wrong. Because heaven knew that Cas had caught him off guard. He had never before been with another man before. Let alone an angel. Let alone Cas. Because he had to admit it: This, with Cas… It had been the most right it had ever felt.

And he had no idea what the hell to do with that.

He looked into the angel's face, at those blue, blue eyes, and remembered how they had struck him as two slivers of heaven the first time he had ever seen them. He remembered Castiel approaching himself and Bobby in that shed so long ago, causing all the lights to burst out as he strode purposefully foreword. He remembered sinking the demon knife into Castiel's back, and the awe and fear it had inspired in his heart when Cas had turned and, slowly and deliberately, pulled out the blade from his own flesh. And he remembered being struck by his beauty then. He remembered a shaky voice – his own – demanding "Who are you?" And he remembered hearing the angel's voice, and knowing, immediately, instinctively, that it was the same being that had already tried to communicate with him twice now, his seraphic voice too overwhelming for Dean to fathom. He remembered the voice. And the words.

I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

"That wasn't just right, Cas," he said now, managing to feel nearly mortified as he heard how his own voice cracked the name. "That was… awesome." He grinned then, grinned up at the angel – his angel – almost giddily.

He still couldn't believe that this was happening, couldn't believe the things he was saying, could hardly believe how he'd let himself go so completely, had given himself over so utterly for what seemed like the first time ever… And maybe it was the first time. The first time he had truly let himself go.

Castiel was looking at him now, and he seemed genuinely bewildered. "Who is it I'm talking to you now, Dean?" he asked, only a touch of irony in his voice. "Who are you?"

Dean's lips quirked up at the corner, and he arched his neck up the find Cas's mouth with his own. Cas responded immediately, his lips, teeth, tongue all working in harmony with Dean's as they kissed. There was an enthusiasm and honesty in the angel's kisses, his heart blown wide open like a book, as if inviting Dean in, urging him, with little jerks of his jaw and nips of his teeth, to write his name on the pages of his soul.

Their kisses grew soft again, and Dean pulled away slowly, sucking Cas's vulnerable pink lower lip into his mouth as he went. His teeth gripped it tightly, and he pulled gently, causing a groan to emanate from deep in Castiel's throat, his eyes lit up with seraphic fire.

Letting it fall back into the natural graceful curve of Cas's mouth, Dean raised himself up over the angel. Looking down at him now, he didn't think he had ever seen anyone as beautiful before in his life, not any one of the countless nameless and faceless girls he had slept with over the years. No one could ever compete with Castiel – his Castiel – in this moment, awash in the moonlight that drifted in from the window, his sapphire eyes wide, trusting, and burning with a fierce wanting.

"You asked who I am," Dean said, still looking down at the small miracle that was Castiel. Once more, his mouth quirked to the side, and then he spoke again:

"I am the one who gripped you tight and held you in my arms," he said, and Cas looked at him as if he were the miracle on earth, as if he were the one who could take a man's breath away in but a moment.

Dean opened his mouth again, and still, he could not believe this was happening, still, could not believe was finally saying all these things, after all this time… Still, could not believe how lucky he was.

So he looked into his angel's eyes. And then he whispered,

"And I will never let you go."