Dean and Castiel had been together for a while. It started after Dean slipped up before he and Sam left for a hunt. He'd been telling the angel to keep his ears on just in case they needed the back up, and before following Sam to the door, he pecked a quick kiss on Castiel's lips, uttered a soft "love you," and exited with his brother. It wasn't until he was situated in the Impala that he realized what he did. Red faced and wide eyed, he asked his brother if that just happened. With a smile, Sam looked at him with his puppy dog eyes and responded with a simple, "yup."
Facing the angel again after that was nerve wracking. Dean convinced Sam on the hunt that they didn't need Castiel's help, even though they both knew it would've been better if he were there. But in his bedroom in the bunker, he wasn't able to convince himself not to call the angel. I just need to tell him it was mistake, he told himself repeatedly, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't true. He heard a soft flap of wings behind him and he turned around, facing the angel from his most sinful and pleasant of dreams. Dean had planned on being cool about it; he really had, but as soon as his eyes were fed the image of the angel, he wasn't able to contain himself, his wants, and his needs. If it wasn't for Castiel's supernatural strength they both would've crashed through the window when Dean crashed his lips against Castiel's hungrily.
That was two years ago.
Now they lay together, sprawled amongst the couch. Dean's arm rested against Castiel's back, his fingers absentmindedly twirling in his soft black hair. He couldn't remember how long they'd been sitting like that, but complaining he was not. Smiling softly, Dean pressed his lips against Castiel's temple gently, "angel," he whispered in his ear, a look of amusement on his face when Castiel's brow furrowed. "Human," he whispered back, his voice etched in confusion. Dean laughed happily, looking into Castiel's deep blue eyes. He cupped his chin in his hands, lifting it just barely, before connecting their lips together in a blissful, passionate kiss.
As time passed that became their thing- calling each other by their species. It certainly didn't change when Castiel lost his Grace and became human. No, that didn't change anything. They still playfully laughed with one another, spitting the word "human" at each other like it was some sort of disease, despite the evident smile in their voices; that's who they were, nothing could change that.
Not even the worst of their days.
"I'm just saying, you can't do it," Dean stated, trying his best to remain calm. Castiel's blue eyes narrowed. "You think because I am no longer an angel that I can't handle it?" He asked slowly, pointedly watching Dean, reading his body language. The other man's shoulders slumped and his eyes fell. "Cas that is not what I'm saying. I'm just saying, you're not ready."
"How am I not ready?" Castiel asked, voice raising an octave. "I've done this before, Dean. I can take care of myself." And before another word could be said, Castiel turned on his heels and walked away.
But both of them knew they couldn't stay mad at one another, no matter how much they wanted to.
They tried to give each other the silent treatment that night, Castiel sat atop their bed, a book in his hands; he purposefully didn't look in Dean's direction. Dean, he was slumped in a chair, cleaning his guns, also purposefully not looking toward the bed for any reason. Then, when Castiel was getting up to go to bathroom, his feet were tangled in the bed sheets, and before his journey would meet its end, he fell to the floor face first. Dean tried to contain his laughter, as he got up from his seat and helped to pull the sheet off of Castiel's body. "This isn't funny, Dean." Castiel said, trying to sound angry and failing miserably because he was wearing a cheeky grin. "It's a little funny." Dean admitted sheepishly, unsure if the ex-angel was still upset with him. Castiel shook his head playfully, his grin widening into a toothy smile. Dean laughed louder, propping himself up on his knees, and leaning in to kiss Castiel's forehead, moving down to kiss his cheek, his jaw line, before finally placing a long, lingering kiss on his slightly chapped lips, "I'm sorry, Cas."
"I know," Castiel whispered, placing his hand on the side of Dean's neck, his fingers tugging gently on the hairs around the base, "human." Dean smiled, taking Castiel's hand in his so both of them could stand up before they both pulled each other towards the bed.
Everyone else smiled when they were together; they radiated such a positive energy. "The most perfect couple, ever." As Charlie liked to put it, and no one could seem to disagree. Sam was the most happy of them all, though. Not only were things looking up, not only was there hope, but his brother and best friend were finally happy. What could be better than that?
The weather was nice; clear, sunny, peaceful breezes with moderate temperatures. It was beautiful. Almost. Sam, Dean and Castiel were on a hunt involving demons and angels alike. It was a familiar setting for them, dark, muggy abandoned warehouse full of nooks and crannies, cobwebs, cracks in the walls, so why was Castiel so uneasy when he heard Sam suggest they split up? After all, they've done this countless times before.
But still, Castiel walked around on his own, entering rooms, his flashlight unsteady in his shaking hand, an unknown emotion engulfing him. He walked about aimlessly until he came across the hall Dean went down. Seeing no harm, he shrugged and walked in the direction he knew Dean had gone.
A good seven minutes passed before he came by a door that was slightly ajar. Readying his angel blade, Castiel walked into the room, his eyes scanning for any danger. His shoulders relaxed. Empty. As Castiel was turning around to leave, he heard a gurgled cough which instantly made him turn around. His eyes widened and he was crouched on the floor next to the source of the noise in an instant.
He moved Dean's body so that he was resting in his lap and he rocked back and forth, cradling Dean's head in his hands. "I can't- I can't fix this." Castiel stated powerlessly through harsh breaths.
"Oh, Cas," Dean whispered, raising his hand up, running his fingers through Castiel's hair- like he's done thousands of times before-, before he let it slide down to his cheek, where he stroked his face gingerly. "It's not broken. Nothing's broken." His words were so quiet. He pressed his lips together, his brow furrowing as he tried to form words. "It's doesn't hurt, Cas." Castiel looked at him, blue eyes full of tears and disbelief. Dean's chest and stomach were gushing blood; his face was covered in cuts and forming bruises. He was still beautiful. "I love you," Dean managed, barely above a whisper, his voice hoarse, a single tear slipping from the corner of his eye. A smile played on his lips as he stroked Castiel's bottom lip with his thumb, "human," a breathy chuckle escaped his paling lips as his green eyes fluttered shut, his head lolling to the side, his hand falling from Castiel's face, landing on the floor with a thud.
Castiel let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He shook his head, leaning down, his body wracking with silent sobs. He pressed his forehead against Dean's own, his eyes shutting as he whispered against Dean's delicate skin, "angel."