Disclaimer: The characters and the world of Supernatural do not belong to me in any way. I'm writing this for fun, and make no money from this foray into the world of angels and hunters.

You normally pray to me. I don't pray to you, that you know of. Usually, all I have to do is think about you, and here I am, next to you. With you. Listening to you rant about everything that comes through your mind, and trying to indulge your very strange obsession with pie.

You pray to me when you need me. But the fact of the matter is, I pray to you every day. More than once a day. You don't know it, because I won't tell you something like that – I guess it wouldn't be proper, even for a man who understands now what the pizza man was on about when he…

Never mind.

This prayer isn't about that. Or not only about that.

Sure, I want to be with you so that I can touch you. So that I can examine the exact hue of your eyes and figure out how to render that color on paper. I want to touch your cheeks and see how you react to me.

I know you like me.

I think you love me.

Because I love you.

I love you, and I can't stop thinking about what this means. What it means for you and me. For your brother. For the people that we try to save every day.

What would happen if I let go with you? Would the world stop spinning? Would we both burn up with the intensity of it? Or would we be physically unable to get anywhere? Would some force stop us? Would we be stuck, millimeters from each other, like hungry children gazing at tantalizing morsels, but unable to sample them?

I want to sample you.

But I can't, can I? I can't allow myself that sweet release of being with you. It hurts, you know. It's a thirst deep within that no amount of water will satisfy. I feel like I'm in the desert, and you're my oasis, the promise of everything good to come after a long journey of walking on hard-packed sand. I need you, and every time I think I'm getting closer, you shimmer away from me.

But I will have you someday, I think.

Someday, when all of this hunting is done and over with, you and I will find a little corner of our own. I will make love to you, and you will make love to me. I will bite down on your shoulder when you slide yourself inside me, and we will finally be joined. As one.

Would you like to make love on a secluded beach, maybe under the shade of a coconut tree whose branches are dipping in the water? Or maybe in a more traditional setting, like a hotel room in New York City?

Anywhere would be fine with me, even in one of Bobby's cars. I think that the tight fit should make it interesting for us.

I say this prayer every day. To you. Because I know that you're the one for me. You're the one that I've been searching for all my life. My brother in some ways, but so much more than that. Our souls recognize each other. You might ask me why, but I just don't have an answer for you. I think it's just one of those things that we both need to accept.

So Dean, for now, I say goodnight. Sleep well, and be at peace. I'm looking after you and Sam tonight, so you have nothing to worry about.

Remember that no matter what, I love you.

The End

Author's Note:

This is the shortest fic I've ever written. I got the idea for it at work (shhhhh, don't tell) and had to write it immediately. Consider this canon in my Supernatural world where Destiel is involved. It's supposed to be short and sweet, and I hope you've enjoyed it!

Lunarelle