"I'm not leaving here without you."

Even now, his own words haunted him. It was a promise that Dean had made. It was actually a promise he planned on keeping, at that. But it was funny just how things in his life had a habit of working out in the exact opposite way he always expected them to. But then again, maybe he never even really expected to be able to bring Cas back with him. He could have always hoped, but the second that the mere consideration was pointed out to him in that clearing, it was a nagging thought that stuck with him daily. He knew that the odds of actually getting Cas out of Purgatory were slim to none, but he didn't care, to be honest.

This was his angel, the one who had gripped him tight and raised him from perdition those years ago, the one who had given everything he knew for a lowly human… the one who he, though Dean would never say it out loud and would have punched anyone who did, had grown to care deeply for in ways that he didn't quite fully understand.

Sure, Sam and Bobby made the constant jokes about the two of them that Dean hated. He grew tired of all the innuendo. But even if he never gave it a second thought, all that profound bond bullshit Cas always went on about was real. In fact, if Dean had to find a term to express what it was that he felt for Castiel, he wouldn't have believed that there were words in the English language, or any language for that matter, to define it. One just couldn't… label something like that.

Dean loved Sam. He loved Bobby. Dean obviously loved Castiel. He loved the seraph in the sense of companionship and trust. Even after everything that he and the angelic little bastard had been through over the years, Dean never stopped feeling that there was something there. But he didn't know if what he felt for Cas was considered love in the sense of what was comprehensible to the human perspective.

Sam was his brother. Even though they would fight constantly, they always knew that they would come back together in the end and that they would die for each other. Hell, they have died for each other on countless occasions. After all the crap the life through their way and after all of the horrible things that they had done to each other, it didn't matter. Because they always knew that the other loved them the exact same amount no matter what. That would never change.

Bobby, rest his soul, was a different story. Though he wasn't the brother's biological father, he would always step up to the plate when they needed him. He wasn't just their helping hand; he was everything else they could possibly need. Giving Bobby the title of a "second father" wouldn't even be close to appropriate to describe that kind of love and gratitude. Bobby practically was their father… in every sense of the word. He'd proven to Dean countless times that being blood doesn't necessarily mean family and being family sure as hell didn't mean only being blood. Bobby Singer was the one person in Dean's life thus far to make him feel that certain way and no one would ever be able to take his place. That was another thing that would never change.

Then there was Lisa. Lisa gave Dean something that no one in his life had ever been able to give him. He had family with Sam and Bobby and Cas, but she was the only one that ever really made him feel… at home. After the Apocalypse had been averted, needless to say, Dean was a wreck. He was a sloppy, frustrated, absolute drunken mess. Losing Sam, losing everything in his old life that he had held dear, did an incredible toll on him. Lisa represented wholeness to Dean. Though she would never have been able to make him whole, she was a reminder that there was still hope for him. And for that entire year, though he ached every second of every hour of every day, she was there to soothe him, to help put him back together. And for that year, he was actually happy. He wasn't happy about gaining that life at the expense of his younger brother, but she showed him for the first time in his pathetic existence what it really felt like to be in love and have a chance at a normal relationship. Nothing would ever compare to that.

But Castiel… the little Fallen angel had left more of a mark on the hunter than he would ever have been willing to let on. Castiel was his friend. He didn't stick around because he had to or because he was on some mission from God. Hell, he turned his back on everything he knew just for Dean. Castiel had become a constant in Dean Winchester's life. The angel had become a significant part of it. He'd never been able to form that kind of bond with anyone. Honestly, he didn't even know if a bond like that could have even existed in the real world. Let alone if someone like him could develop one.

But to call Castiel his friend felt wrong; it felt… inaccurate. Even best friend seemed demeaning. And that was the thing Dean struggled so hard with… what the hell was Castiel to him?

All he could think about was finally finding Castiel in that clearing and remembering the pure… jubilation. For just a moment, he had forgotten where he was. He had forgotten the long, horrendous quest he had to endure just to find him. The only thing that mattered was that Castiel was close and within arms' reach. All he had to do was pursue. The sight of the angel set something in Dean on fire and wouldn't be appeased until he held his closest friend in his arms for the first time.

He remembered the feeling of Cas trapped in his unyielding embrace; his Cas. He recalled how the entire world just seemed to melt away, how his heart raced, how whole he felt just being near the man. For the first time in a while… Dean actually felt whole.

The feeling was short-lived, however. Dean was out, now. Benny was out. Castiel was gone, probably dead. And that realization alone was enough to tear Dean apart. Let alone the fact that they were separated yet again just as Dean was finally coming to terms with his true feelings for Castiel. They were family. And now, Castiel was just another person on a long list of people he couldn't save.

He wasn't in love with Castiel. It was something brighter, more passionate, and far more dangerous than that. But since there weren't words in the dictionary to describe that connection, Dean had no choice but to admit that he was in love with him.

And if that weren't bad enough, he found himself being punished for it ever since he broke out. He felt the guilt of leaving Cas behind, but even more than that, the guilt of never saying anything. He had a year to tell Cas in Purgatory and longer even before then. And he didn't it once… all because of his stupid pride and fear.

One of the more recent punishments was occurring rather frequently. Burdened and weighed down by guilt and grief and loss, his mind began to play cruel tricks on him. Just the other day while tracking a lead on a case with Sam, Dean could have sworn that he saw Castiel walking along the street as they passed him by in the Impala. Just last night, he saw the angel staring back at him through the window of a motel room.

"Why won't you just go away," Dean choked quietly, splashing water on his face from a rusty old sink, his eyes burned by the attempted concealing of tears. He didn't want to see the angel anymore. Just the thought of him filled Dean with ache and all he wanted to do now was move on. But there the angel was in his reflection, staring at him with that same blue gaze that he knew and loved.

And as expected, the angel didn't go away. Dean didn't really expect him to. There was no way he would get let off this easy now, of all times. The hunter shut his eyes tight and clenched the edge of the metal basin.

"I was… hoping you'd be thrilled to see me," a raspy voice said. And Dean knew that voice. Heart jumping into his throat, he whipped around quickly and saw his Castiel, dirty, muddied, clothes worn from activity, staring back at him with a small, joyous smirk on his stubbly face. The older Winchester's eyes shot open in wonder.

"Cas," he breathed, examining the image up and down. His hallucinations had yet to actually speak to him… but no demon or monster or anything in the world could fake that voice. Because Dean knew.

"Hello, Dean." Cas' voice was soft and sincere and his slight head tilt was exactly the way Dean had remembered it. Just seeing his angel smile back at him was enough to leave Dean at a loss for words.

"Cas… is that… is that really you?" Dean managed to get out. The angel gave a slight nod.

"I'm here, Dean."

"But you… when did you… how did you…"

Dean was immediately cut off as Castiel wrapped his arms around the eldest Winchesters' neck in a snug embrace, stubble rubbing against Dean's smooth cheek. Taken aback, it took Dean a moment to realize what was actually happening. He relished in this moment, having the angel back in his arms again. Feeling in his gut that this was as real as it got, he slowly enveloped his own arms around Cas' middle back and embraced him in return just as tightly. He prayed to God and everything and everyone that this moment was real; that he was actually holding Castiel in the flesh against his body. If this were some kind of harsh trick or hallucination, Dean wouldn't have been able to handle it.

But at first contact, Dean felt the fire ignite in his stomach, the exact same way it did when he held Castiel in the woods back in Purgatory. His breath hitched and he could feel the tears slowly start to fall as he buried his face in Castiels' trench coat.

"I… apologize if I have made this awkward for you. I know you… don't like 'chick flick' moments."

"Shut up." It was a cross between a command and a plea that managed to escape Dean's lips into the coat. But there was also a hint of a laugh mixed in there.

"It's fine, you stupid son of a bitch," Dean chuckled quietly and he could feel the heat rush to his face as a smile broke on Castiels' lips against the hunters' cheek.

Dean could feel the seraph trying to break apart from the hug and at this, Dean firmed his grip around his body, pulling him in closer, as if letting him go meant losing him again and was not an option.

"Just a little bit longer, Cas."

"It's been two minutes, Dean."

"Does it look like I care?" Dean whispered, never loosening his grip. Slowly, Castiel rested his head on Dean's shoulder and patted his back comfortingly.

"I suppose not," he said happily.

About fifteen or twenty seconds later, the two finally broke apart and Dean was swamped the overwhelming urge to just dive right back in and cling for dear life.

"I thought I was never gonna see you again," the hunter breathed, voice hoarse and dry.

"I had the same concerns. I told you to go on without me; I thought that your safety was the only thing I wanted. I know you have questions… but you should know, I… never stopped trying to find my way back to you." It almost seemed as if Castiel was struggling to find the words, but met Deans' eyes once again and the Winchester knew it was truth.

Dean was breaking. His insides were burning at a rate he'd never known before. The guilt was killing him and he didn't know how much longer he would be able to keep it in.

"Cas, I didn't wanna be safe…"

The angel tilted his head.

"I promised you that I wouldn't leave without you with me and… it's been hell since I got back." A look of confusion and concern appeared on Castiels' features and Dean swallowed hard.

"What do you mean? You're back here; home with Sam and… things are back to normal."

"I… it's been hell because… I didn't have you. I didn't…" Fuck, he couldn't believe he was actually saying this. But he had to say it. He needed to say it. Castiel could be ripped apart from him any second and if Dean let him go again without telling him how he felt…

"When I left you behind," simply saying such a thing tore up at Dean's insides and he turned his attention to the tile floor, "I felt like… I left a part of myself down there. I needed you, Cas, I still do need you. I…"

"Dean," Castiel interrupted. Dean looked up and saw that Castiel was mere inches away. Normally the angels' personal space issues bothered him, but right now, Dean couldn't be happier that he never caught on to that. But on that same token, being this close to Cas while he was saying what he was about to say scared the hell out of him. He swallowed hard and licked his lips.

Without thinking, he clutched the back of Cas' head and held him in place as he lunged forward and ferociously pressed his lips to the others. He was able to hear a startled "Mmph!" from Castiel, but suppressed it with his own eager, desperate moans. Eyes shut tight; he concentrated every fiber of his being into the task at hand. He was going to relish this moment and everything would make sense afterwards.

The very second Deans' mouth made contact, there was clarity. Peace. But there was also a spiritual unrest stirring inside. Dean felt pure. Not just pure… whole. This missing fraction of Dean's soul that had been missing ever since he got back had been reunited and the broken pieces came crashing back together in a wonderful, fiery explosion of ecstasy.

Slowly, he felt Cas' hands snake up around his back and grip his head in a similar manner. He found that the angel was kissing him back with the same fierceness and longing. This was something that he apparently needed to, unable to keep it back any longer.

The kiss lasted for a solid minute before Dean broke away. He stared at his angels' sweet face barely an inch away from his; eyes still closed, lips, chapped and red from kissing, parted slightly.

Cas gradually cracked his eyes open and stared up at Dean in wonder and shock. He gave him that same old head tilt that Dean already expected to follow.

"Dean, what… why did you… why did you do that?" Cas murmured. Dean didn't look away this time. He locked his intense green eyes on the curious blue ones in front of him.

"Because I… I love you, Cas." The angel let out a sigh of contentment. Their eye contact never wavered.

"Dean, I…" Dean cut Castiel off by leaning in to attack his quivering mouth once more. Castiel didn't need to say anything. Dean already knew. He could tell by the way the angel kissed him back as if his very life depended on it. Dean snuck his hands into the angels' dark, unruly hair and let his fingers explore. The hunter felt warm hands press against his chest and clutch tightly at the black shirt. Dean proceeded to take his right arm and wrap it tightly around Castiels' neck as if to pull him even closer while his left hand continued to play with the angels' hair.

Cas' hands roamed about Deans' torso while the human took a short break from rummaging through the seraph's hair long enough to slip off the trench coat. Cas took this opportunity to take his own arms and envelop Deans' neck firmly, cracking open his mouth slightly in order to let Deans' tongue travel.

Dean rotated to the right and Castiel circulated right along with him, almost like a dance until they made a full one-eighty degree revolution. Castiel's back was now to the mirror and Dean proceeded to press him up against the edge of the basin. Their lips broke apart only so Dean could press small, chaste kisses against the stubbly jaw and neck of his beloved angel. Each peck set off an electrical prickle on his lips. Driven by a desire he could no longer contain, Dean ran his tongue across the hollow of Castiels' neck slowly. Beneath his touch, Cas let out a muffled yelp and the sound of the intoxicated voice went straight to Deans' groin.

"Dean… Dean, I-ahh!" Cas was unable to complete the sentence as Dean crushed his already swollen lips against the others' with a hungry snarl.

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas' waistline and hoisted him up onto the rim of the sink. The hunter took his hands and raked through them the others' hair, his erection rubbing against Castiel's thigh. Cas, unsure of what else to do with his hands, brought them up to cup Dean's face and ensure that it stayed right where it was. Moaning, licking, biting, Dean ensued to thrust his pelvis against the angel slowly in a primal display of dry-humping. Before Dean even realized what he had begun to do, he could feel Castiel mimicking his actions, eagerly pushing up against him. Their arousals came in contact through the fabric of their clothes and his hands were now gripping Dean's shoulders like a lifeline.

"Dean… Dean, oh… please, Dean," Castiel moaned into the hunter's ear as he nipped and sucked at his neck, the angel's voice calling out his name like a prayer. He could feel the hard length of Castiel's cock rubbing and sliding against his own. As he gazed lovingly into the angel's electric blue eyes, he felt Cas' hand slide down his left shoulder and land gently and perfectly over the handprint scar that was left there.

At the touch, everything thought that was going through Dean's mind was eradicated. It was as if the entire world had just been set ablaze and, just like with the first kiss, Dean felt wholeness like an electrical current flow through him. Dean could feel Castiel inside him, deep down in his soul and every mind numbing spark of pleasure in his body reacted at once and he came, almost painfully, spattering inside his boxers with a yelp that would surely leave his throat croaky for hours, orgasm shattering through him. He felt Castiel stiffen against his body. The angel let out a shattered, broken cry as he rode out the high of his orgasm against Dean's leg.

Cas grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and pulled him close to rest their foreheads against each other, their breathing labored. They had to have stayed like that for a decent minute and a half, eyes shut, limbs intertwined, just listening to the sound of the other's breath.

"You… you okay?" Dean asked. He knew that Cas was new to this form of human expression, having been junk-less for so long, so he had no idea what to expect. Castiel opened his eyes and gazed up at the hunter, hands still gripping the Winchester's neck. All Castiel did was smile.

"What?"

"I… I love you, too."

Well, thanks, you guys for reading this! Please leave a review; I would really appreciate it. It's my first time writing anything smutty. I hope it was authentic and I hope you actually enjoyed it. I'm not quite certain how it turned out. You be the judge, please?