This is literally my very first ever fanfiction, so don't yell at me ^^ Thanks for reading it and since this is my first and I don't have anyone to help me make it better i would love love love review. I do not own the characters.
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When Dean will think back on it, it'll feel stupid; but that morning he woke up from that small dream with a nearly unrecognizable feeling, an urge really. It was an ambiguous dream that he wanted to hold on to….
.-.-.-.
It was a muddle of Cass. It was his jaw and his neck and his lips. Flashes of Castiel with an undertone of desire Dean had never felt towards his little angel. The dream was brief with no words or actions, only impressions of feelings and more impressions of more feelings and images that left Dean tossing when he got up that morning.
As he stumbled to the bathroom he was actually embarrassed. If he were being completely honest he had never had such feelings towards Castiel. At least it was only in my head and no one will know, he thought as he brushed his teeth, musing with his hair in the dimly lit reflection of the grimy motel mirror. Knowing Cass and Sam wouldn't find out gave him a sort of peace of mind and he let the dream leave his mind. The space in his head was occupied by some particulars of the current job they were just beginning to work. Just when the images of the Castiel had been completely pushed aside Dean heard the door open, bringing in the sounds of footfalls and rustling. Sam wasn't alone.
He stuck his head out of the bathroom doorway, toothbrush still in his mouth, to see Sam and Castiel. They were setting coffees and brown paper bags on the abused dark wood side-table underneath the motel room's only window.
"Dean," Sam started, "I don't think we have a job here. I went out this morning and nearly discredited all of the omens we came here for."
Still with the toothbrush he knew he wouldn't get across the things he needed to say, so he finished brushing before turning back to the guys. Sam was perched on the edges of one the rooms two queen beds drinking coffee and examining an old newspaper while Castiel was sitting in a chair next to the side table observing Dean as he came out of the bathroom. He knew the awkward feeling that swept over him at the sight of Cass was silly. Only I had the dream he thought, Cass doesn't know. Calm the hell down. Walking to the table to scope out his breakfast, Dean refused to look the angel in the eyes.
"I guess we're not needed here then," Dean understood. He spoke to Sam, his back completely turned to Castiel. "What do you want to do? Stay here for the day, and drive to Bobby's in the morning?"
And that's what they did.
They remained in the hearty rusticity of Chesterhill, Ohio. It was understandable that none of the boys were looking forward to the drive that would be in excess of 16 hours back to South Dakota to unite back with Bobby. They spent the day around. There was a bar that was nearly a stone's throw from the motel, so it is presumable that the three spent most of the day there. Participating in their usual conversations, they managed to have a good time with their monster-free afternoon.
It's safe to say, Dean didn't let the dream go. He wanted to —really wanted to—just forget about the whole thing. It didn't mean anything, he knew that. But they were back at the hotel searching for leads, when he caught himself.
Dean was staring at Castiel's lips and before he knew where his though process was going he found himself wondering how it would feel to merely touch his lips to the angel's. Looking away sharply, hoping no one noticed the gaze, he found abrupt curiosity in the label of the beer he was drinking. He didn't mean to but his mind drifted back, thinking with more and more concentrated passion.
Hot and dark. Lips on lips. Lips on neck. Teeth on neck. Hands on skin. Hands all over. Lips all over.
Little by little, scene by scene, Dean started accepting his little fantasy; and, it grew. He started getting less concerned with hiding the feelings from himself and more interested in imagining new things for him to do with Cass inside his own head. He had similar dreams from then on.
.-.-.-.
The boys were working, maybe a month later, in North Dakota. They were following a chain of mysterious suicides; however, the case wasn't anything special. Castiel had been around, like usual, coming and going as he pleased. The first night in the motel, Sam elected to hit the library and do the usual research. The tedium of this job was comfortable to Dean. After months of chaos and disorder it was pleasing to be back hunting second-rate monsters, again. He stuck to the hotel, investigating the reports online.
"Uhm… Dean?" The angels voice was rough and came from the opposite corner of the room. Dean was lightly startled but after having Cass pop in and out for weeks, the surprise of his sudden appearances was fading.
"Oh. Hey, Cass. What's up?" Dean looked up from the computer screen and took a taste of his beer before setting it back down on the cheap wooden table. He was look expectantly at Castiel waiting for him to speak.
Castiel was standing far from Dean, looking at him with puppy-dog eyes. Maybe the talks about "personal space" had him unsure how close was acceptable. His guess at distance was erred on the far side leaving Dean uncomfortable that they were speaking on opposite sides of the room. His hair was a little more unkempt than usual and his dark blue tie was undone and hanging limply around his shoulders. He looked distraught.
"I cannot seem to figure out…," He started, "how to put this back to the way it was." He reached for his tie and his face turned sour.
Dean laughed and the angel pursed his lips. It was obvious Castiel did not find this as entertaining as Dean seemed to. "I guess you wouldn't know, would you?" Dean smiled.
"It came undone and Sam refused to help me. He said I should request your help." Castiel's eyes were almost pleading. It was apparent that Cass could not stand they tie being undone.
"No problem," Dean said as he got up and strode across the room. He started adjusting the tie when he remembered why the "personal space" talks had been so important, especially recently. It was because when he was this close to Cass it took nearly everything in him to not tilt his head down and crush his lips to Castiel's. He cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind. He had tied hundreds of ties in him life but with his body inches from Cass', in that moment it seemed like a very perplexing task. With the tie slack around the angel's neck and Dean holding an end in each hand, he paused. Castiel didn't have anything else to do but watch Dean's face as the tie was being secured and without looking up, Dean could feel his eyes on his face. The moment of pause grew and green eyes flickered up to meet blue ones. In that second Dean's mind went blank and then was flooded with images of his fantasies. The seconds of nothingness grew longer and their eyes went unmoving. There was something certain about this exchange, as it was nearly an entire conversation in one look. Dean knew what he wanted, and knew what he was inches away from having.
His hands drew the tie tighter towards himself and let his eyes drop to the same level as the man he was standing in front of. He closed the space between their lips slowly but stopped to allow Cass space to decide. The heat of their breath was colliding in short little swirls for two exhales before Cass knew what he wanted and closed the gap.
Instantaneously, Cass' hands cradled Dean's face and Dean let his hands slip from the tie to rest at Castiel's hips, pulling their bodies together. Dean used his grip on his angel's waist to back him up until they fell backwards onto one of the queen beds. Dean was in his fantasy. Their lips never parted and Dean found his hands caressing all the parts of Cass he had dreamt of. When their lips did come apart it was only for Dean to graze his lips past Castiel's ear and place deep kisses on his neck, and then down to let his lips browse his collarbone.
As they climbed fully onto the bed, Dean tugged at the trench coat. Cass had no problem with taking it off and while he was at it he had no problem taking off more. How he managed to become completely shirtless so fast, Dean did not know—and he definitely didn't object. Still without parting lips, Castiel rolled over, bringing Dean on top of him. He took a moment at pulled away. Looking deeply into the hunter's eyes he began pulling Dean's shirt over his head and as soon as it was out of the way, their hot, needy, lips were moving together again. Like Dean earlier, Cass started trailing his mouth down. Kissing past his jaw and his neck and down his stomach. Dean's poor little overwhelmed mind was racing.
"Wait…. Cass, wait." Dean could barely get out before sitting upright, leaving them face to face once again.
Castiel stopped with cautious eyes. Dean couldn't think, that was the problem. It was happening so fast and was such a blur. He wanted this so bad, but more than that, he wanted it to last.
"We have to slow down, man." Dean said, quite winded. Cass took a deep breath and gazed at Dean. He could see in Cass' eyes that he would do anything he asked.
When Castiel then leaned forward to press his lips back to Dean's, he let out a sigh of ecstasy. Their hands wandered and their bodies rocked together for a blissful period of time and it gave Dean time to absorb everything that was his little angel.
The way he felt with their bodies pressed together.
The pleasure of Cass nipping at his bottom lip.
The feeling of Castiel's hair, as Dean ran his hands through it.
The smell of Cass and the warmth radiating from his entire body.
And the feeling of never wanting to leave that bed and the gorgeous angel that he was madly in love with.