Bravado

by TemperanceNova

"Oh come on now, you expect that to get me all hot and bothered? I need more interaction that that, Dean! Is this how you treat the women you're always with? Because if so, I've got to say it's a little underwhelming. Where's all the bravado, huh? Where's all that Winchester sass?" DeanxCas

A/N: This is the very first Supernatural thing I've written and finished. So of course it needs to be slash and smut all over the place. Let me know if you spot any mistakes, I don't own any of this crazy shit, blah blah blah, on with the man secks.

Summary: "Oh come on now, you expect that to get me all hot and bothered? I need more interaction that that, Dean! Is this how you treat the women you're always with? Because if so, I've got to say it's a little underwhelming. Where's all the bravado, huh? Where's all that Winchester sass?" ~ When a hunt goes terribly wrong, Castiel unintentionally lets something slip he's been holding back for a while.

---

Dean was panicking. Dean Winchester, panicking. At first he wasn't sure what the felling was, a tightening in his chest, irregular breathing and heart rate. He knew that it was probably too soon to take Cas on a hunt, but the angel turned human was starting to wear a hole in the floor at home from pacing all day long. And now, now Dean had lost him. The house was only three stories including the basement, but it was in grave disrepair. Holes in the floors that Cas could have fallen into and broken his damn legs. Rubble he could have been crushed under. Not to mention the demons that were running ramped trying to kill them both. What if he hadn't been able to kill the ones after him like Dean had?

"Cas!" he shouted for what felt like the millionth time, his voices was starting to turn hoarse. "Cas, answer me man! Where are you?"

Castiel was no push over. As an angel, Dean had seen him do things that didn't seem plausible for the scrawny man to do. Now that he was human he wasn't as durable, but the man could still wield an angel blade like nobodies business. So why was Dean so worried the demons had killed his friend now? Because Cas was no longer freakishly strong. The demons were the ones that could toss him around like a stuffed animal now. If even one got the jump on him it could have been over and his senses just weren't as sharp anymore. So now Dean panicked. Rushing through the house trying to spot any sign of his friend.

"Dean? Dean I'm here!" Halting mid-step, Dean wheeled around, spotting a woman's body laying on the floor inside one of the run down rooms. Except she wasn't alone. He'd know those worn boots anywhere, Cas was pinned to the floor by a dead woman.

Rushing forward, he tucked his knife into his back pocket, leaning down to roll the dead brunette off of his friend. Cas was pretty banged up, covered in blood from the dead woman, but alive. In the end that was all that really mattered. Extending his hand, Dean gripped Cas' wrist and heaved him up onto his feet with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Man, if you're looking for a date, there are way better places," he snorted, watching Cas try to wipe the blood out of his eye from the gash above his left eyebrow.

"You and I both know this was no date," Cas sighed, tucking his silver blade into the waistband of his jeans.

"C'mon, let's get you patched up and grab some beers. I'm done with this demon shit for the night."

"Demons are rather tricky things to deal with, aren't they?"

"No shit, let's go."

Patting Cas' shoulder roughly, Dean headed out first, watching his footing carefully as he maneuvered through the debris scattered on the floor. It was then that a sharp pain splintered over the back of his skull. He could feel the warmth of blood blooming through his hair, falling to his knees on the ancient wooden floor. As his vision slowly faded to black, all he could see were Cas' worn boots stepping into view. They'd been ambushed and now Cas was on his own. Left to fight while Dean slipped into a pit of unconsciousness that scared him more than facing a room full of demons alone.

It was times likes these when Dean remembered hell the most. The pain and the tearing, the blood and the screams. It never stopped, never let up and most of all, you never became accustomed to it. After all this time, Dean still cringed in pain when he remembered the hot blades and hooks digging into his flesh. But then there was Cas. In all honestly he'd said that he never remembered the angel saving him from the pits of hellfire and torture, but that wasn't anywhere near the truth. He remembered it just was vividly as the pain. The bright light and warmth of the ethereal being as it wrapped a firm hand around his shoulder and pulled him free from the torment. It was beautiful, but he couldn't exactly tell Cas that. Telling another man he was beautiful probably wouldn't go over well. Not that he thought Cas would mind, just that it would feel wrong to say it out loud. But then again, maybe he should have told Cas he was beautiful. He might never get the chance to now. Now, they were probably both dead.

Trying to fight back the darkness clouding his mind, Dean found himself bound to something. His body jerked sluggishly, trying to fight whatever restraints he was being held with. Hell was closer now than it had been a moment ago, the feeling of being trapped triggering a fear in him that caused his eyes to snap open, searching his surroundings. His vision was blurry, head pounding from blow and sitting across from him on a chair, was Cas. His blue eyes were open wide, blood still flowing down the side of his face from his cut, searching Dean's face for something he couldn't quite place. Help maybe? Dean lurched against his restraints again, realizing he'd been tied to a chair much like the one Cas was seated on. They'd been captured by demons and would no doubt be tortured to death in what looked like an old packing warehouse. Except, Cas was not bound. He was already up on his feet, moving closer to Dean with that same searching expression on his face.

"Cas, what the hell is goin' on?" he muttered, shaking his head to try and clear his vision.

"I really am sorry for this, Dean, but you have to understand just how long I've wanted to do this," Cas sighed and Dean's head tilted up to stare at the ex-angel in confusion. "Tie you up and keep you all to myself. We'll have a glorious amount of fun, don't you agree? I always have liked you better when you're bleeding."

Dean hissed loudly as a sharp pain tore across his chest, Cas' angel blade dragging across his shirt so roughly that it cut right through to his skin. Something was wrong, Cas would never-

"You're not Cas," he growled, watching as his captor backed away with a bright grin on his face.

"Ding ding ding! Let's see what you've won, shall we? I'll let you choose where I cut next."

"You piece of shit demon, get the hell out of him now!"

Cas leaned down, pressing his face so close to Dean's that he could feel his warm breath hitting his cheek. The grin was gone, replaced by a look of disgust he didn't know Cas could make. The woman that had been laying on him in the house was no doubt the result of the demon jumping bodies. How long had it been in Cas before Dean found him? Why hadn't he just killed Dean there in the house and be done with it? Because demons are sadistic fucks, Dean.

"Or what?" Cas barked, reaching out with the blade to press it against Dean's throat lightly. "Will you exorcise me right here and now?"

"Damn straight I will, no one fucks with my friends and gets away with it," he snapped, taking a deep breath and prepared the incantation. It was amazing how quickly he could recall it when it was Cas' life on the line. Usually only Sam was badass enough to lay the ritual down without a moments hesitation. "Exorcizamus-"

"Ah-ah-ah, no you don't big boy," Cas warned, clapping his hand over Dean's mouth before he could even get the second word out. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I may or may not have stabbed this poor bastard in the gut before you woke up. I'm the only thing keeping him standing. Now, ask yourself, do you really wanna go through all that Latin just to watch him die?"

Dean tried to search Cas' body for any sign of the wound, but he was still covered in so much blood that it was hard to tell if it belonged to the demons back at the house, or if Cas really was mortally wounded. His heart spasm'd in a painful way, throat drying up as he pressed his lips together tightly behind Cas' hand. Why had they waited to get Cas his anti-possession tattoo? Why had Dean brought him along when he wasn't one hundred percent ready? Now he'd have to sit and take whatever torture demon Cas could throw his way, all because he couldn't watch his friend die.

"I thought you'd see it my way," Cas laughed, removing his hand from Dean's mouth. "I have to tell you, Dean, being inside this poor guy was the best choice I ever made! I mean that woman had a nice rack, y'know, but it was nothing compared to the tortured shit going on in here."

"If I were you I wouldn't go poking around in there too much. Never know what kind of demon vaporizing Enochian bullshit you'll come across," Dean muttered, fully fed up with the demons shit already.

"Well now, don't get all pissy! He's trying his very best to keep my out of all the angel info. Too bad for him it leaves everything else open to exploration. Like, his feelings for you, for instance. You wanna see pathetic, take a stroll through the Dean folder!"

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but they both froze when Dean's cellphone started buzzing and ringing loudly in his pocket. Cas frowned, moving forward to pull the phone from his jeans with a great deal of difficulty given he was strapped to a chair.

"Sammy? Oh that's the little brother, the one with the hair right? He must be worried," Cas chuckled, smirking. "You make a sound and I'll stab him the heart and skip town. Make good and sure he's beyond saving."

Flicking the phone open, Cas pressed it to his ear, sitting back down in his chair with his legs crossed. Dean had seen demons possessing his friends before, but something about the way the demon moved around in Cas' body made him furious. Cas was an angel, he was something that should never be touched by the darkness of a demon. And while Cas had done some things that he wasn't proud of, he never deserved to go out like this. Trapped inside himself, no doubt writhing in torture as the demon ripped away at his subconscious. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but he had to get the demon out. And soon. There was no telling what would happen if it got ahold of all the angel information Cas had stored away in that melon of his. He just had to figure out a safe way to do it.

"Hello, Sam," Cas mumbled into the phone, trying his best to keep up the ex-angel's stoic nature despite the huge grin on his face. "No everything is fine. Dean is loading weapons into the car and then demands that we go 'celebrate'."

Rolling his eyes, Cas sat picking at his teeth, nodding his head as Sammy rambled on the other end of the line.

"Yes Sam, I will make sure he does not become too inebriated and get him home safely," he chirped, snapping the phone closed. "Man! I thought he was the little brother? Why is he acting like your warden?"

"Because Sam knows when something's wrong. He called me for a reason, you jack ass. You think your little Cas impersonation is gonna fool him?"

Cas shrugged, standing up to shove the phone into his blood stained jeans. Moving closer, Dean half expected him to skewer him with the angel blade, but surprisingly he flopped down on Dean's lap, straddling his hips. Dean grunted at the sudden weight, flinching as Cas' arms flew around his neck, the demon leaning back on his lap to smirk at him.

"You know I wasn't lying when I said that this was something I've always wanted to do. And by me I mean him. You would be amazed at how much of your debauchery has rubbed off on the poor little ex-angel. You ever thought of what it's like to be a virgin since the beginning of time? This guy is so sexually frustrated I'm amazed he hasn't blown a gasket sooner," Cas murmured, twisting his fingers into Dean's short hair and giving it a rather forceful tug that made him grunt in pain. "And all of that frustration, it's aimed at you, Deany."

"You can say whatever you want you sick fuck. Cas would never-"

"Never what, Dean? Never dream of strapping you to a bed fucking you into oblivion?" he growled, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "Because he has. Every damn day he has to watch you walk around, swaying those little hips of yours. All the midnight showers walking around the bunker in nothing but a towel. Oh he tries to hide it and apparently he's done a fantastic job up until this point. But oh how he wishes he'd fucked you sooner."

Dean rolled his eyes lazily, leaning back as far as the chair would allow him from Cas' body. For a moment the demon just sat there, arms still tangled around his neck with a smug smile on his face as if something he'd said had bothered him. If this was his idea of torture, it was getting really lame really fast.

"You're nothing but a lying sack of shit. And what makes you think that I'd give a shit if Cas wanted to fuck me or not? Hell, I'd fuck me if I could. If that's what gets Cas goin', I say good for him. He's got good taste. Are you gonna make with the torture now or not, because I'm starting to fall asleep over here."

Sighing, Cas set the angel blade aside and pulled Dean's knife from his back pocket, twirling it around in his hand to show off the engravings. It was the knife they'd taken from Ruby, it could kill demons with a well placed shiv. Usually to the heart or throat. But now Dean was sure that it was going to be carving his flesh instead. He had survived hell with only a minor case of alcoholism, whatever this demon could throw at him would be nothing. He just had to hold out until Sam showed up or he found a way to get through to Cas without him dying.

"Fine, you'd rather skip the foreplay and jump right in, it's all on you," Cas chirped, pressing the tip of the blade against his shoulder lightly. "I hope you can keep me entertained without it. Gonna have to put those sweet lungs to good use..."

Dean kept his lips pressed together tightly as he felt the tip of the blade slowly pierce his skin. Cas was leaning into the blade, his free hand perched on his chest almost lovingly as the knife skewered his shoulder. He kept taking staggered breaths in through his nose, but refused to cry out when he felt the steel hit bone. It was painful, there was no doubt about that but he knew the worst had yet to come. Cas smiled at him fondly, twisting the blade slowly, earning a strangled whine from somewhere in Dean's throat.

"Oh come on now, you expect that to get me all hot and bothered? I need more interaction that that, Dean! Is this how you treat the women you're always with? Because if so, I've got to say it's a little underwhelming. Where's all the bravado, huh? Where's all that Winchester sass?" Cas pouted, ripping the blade back out of his shoulder and he choked back a scream.

"Sorry, it's a little hard to find you sexy with all that blood and demon bullshit flowing out of your mouth. Cas would be better at this than you, should let him take over," he chuckled, coughing lightly.

"No, I think I prefer having him watch. Where shall we poke you next? Here?" the demon mumbled, trailing the blade along the previous gash in his chest from the angel blade. "Or here?"

The blade trailed from the gash down his stomach, dancing dangerously low toward his groin. Having his dick chopped off might have been his limit, trying to keep his body still from squirming. If the demon caught wind of just how nervous it was making him, there was no telling what the son of a bitch would do.

"Nah, I don't think you could handle all that. S'got a mind of its own, it'll probably out preform you," he smirked, watching Cas' blue eyes linger a little too long where their bodies connected.

"Well, I don't know about all that. It certainly has him excited. How about we get rid of some of this pesky clothing first. See how he likes that?"

Reaching out, Cas gripped the bottom of his shirt, using the knife to cut it from the bottom and tore it all the way up to his collarbone so that his entire chest was left bare and bleeding. Cas' pale hands raked up his abs and over his chest, stopping only when his fingers curled around Dean's throat gently. He half expected Cas to start choking him, cerulean eyes boring into his own when he finally let out a soft huff through his nose and pulled his hands away.

"Such a pretty thing. No wonder he keeps begging me to stop cutting on you," Cas sighed, tracing his anti-possession tattoo with the tip of the blade lightly enough to leave red marks on his skin. "If I slice this off and jump your bones, you think we could flip this around and fuck him into the floor instead? You seem like more of the dominate type anyway."

Dean couldn't help but laugh, remembering all the times Cas had practically handed him his own ass on a silver platter. When the occasion struck, Castiel could be one scary motherfucker. He was pretty sure that even without his angel powers he could still manage to kick Dean's ass given the right motivation. And that thought, sent a weird chill down his spine he wasn't quite sure he liked.

"Obviously, you don't know Cas. I bet right now, you're having a hard time holding on to him. He's prolly tearing your shit up in there trying to get out. And I feel sorry for you if he ever does. You'll wish he would send you back to hell before he's through with you."

Frowning, Cas' hand slid down his chest, his thumb digging into the gash harshly enough to cause Dean to hiss sharply. He'd felt this pain before, a blunt object trying to force its way into his body, but it was so sudden that he didn't have time to brace for it. Cas rocked forward on his lap, digging his thumb in even farther and Dean bit down on his lower lip hard enough to break the skin.

"You bastard-" Dean gasped, spitting blood into Cas' face unintentionally. "I'm gonna kill you myself."

"You can try Dean Winchester, but it's going to be a little hard to do anything once I've cut the bones from your body and burned them to ash. When you get back to hell, I'll make sure to have a special room waiting just for you."

Dean sucked in a sharp breath as the blade pierced his side, warm blood flowing down over his hips and splattering onto the concrete below. He could tell that it wasn't a fatal stabbing, but if the demon started sawing off chunks of skin it wouldn't be long before he bled out. His shoulder was still freely oozing blood and the thumb that was still buried in his chest was working even more out. He was starting to get light headed. If Sammy was ever coming to save him, now would have been the opportune fucking time. Clenching his eyes closed he tired not to scream out as Cas pulled the blade slowly from his skin, tearing even more blood from his body.

"I was told this would be more fun! That you were good at breaking free. And look at you. I cleaned out your pockets and now you're just a useless hunk of flesh," Cas whined, pulling the blade harshly alongside the first gash on Dean's chest, drawing out even more blood. "All I want is for you to scream for me, is that so much to ask for?"

"Sorry man, living through hell kinda puts a damper on all other torture means. And if you send me back to hell, well you really won't be there to share in that fun either, will you? Just a waste of time walking around in borrowed skin."

"Right, of course. Why didn't I see it sooner, that's what's really bothering you isn't it? Him. What would you say to me carving him up for a bit?"

Dean clenched his jaw, watching as the demon brought the blade up to Cas' cheek and pressed into the skin. Cas grinned brightly when he saw the dark look on Dean's face as he sliced a thin line into his cheek. He could take whatever the demon was dishing out, but when it started cutting into Cas is was a whole different story.

"Cas if you're in there man, now's a good time to get with the program and kick this son of the bitch out," he growled, twisting his hands trying to break the ropes. So far he'd only managed to give himself a terrible case of rope burn.

Cas just sat there, frowning at him before he suddenly dipped down to lay his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean flinched at the sudden contact, Cas' free hand grasping at his torn shirt like a caged animal. He could hear the knife hit the ground, clattering loudly in the empty warehouse. Maybe he was going to bite him, take a chunk out of his jugular and watch him bleed out right then and there.

"D-Dean, help me," Cas whimpered and Dean's entire body went rigid in the chair. "Please Dean, it hurts."

"Cas-it's gonna be alright. You'll be alright," he whispered, still trying to break free from the ropes.

"No Dean, get it out now. Please Dean."

Gritting his teeth, bucking in the chair, he wanted to just yell in frustration. Just pulling the demon out could kill him, there was no way of knowing if he'd been stabbed without checking. Cas sat up slowly, gazing at him with tired eyes. There was nothing that he could say, nothing that he could do that would make the situation any better. Cas was most likely already dead and he couldn't come to terms with it.

"See, that look there, that's what I wanted to see," Cas laughed and Dean choked as he grabbed ahold of the wound on his side and dug his fingers in. Clenching his eyes shut he cursed himself for believing Cas had somehow broke through the demons hold. It was worse than the physical pain any day.

Somewhere in the distance he heard the scraping of boots on the concrete and before he could even open his eyes a single shot rang out and Cas gasped breathlessly. The weight vanished from his lap and his eyes snapped open to find Sam standing twenty feet away with a gun aimed in his direction. Panic tore through him again as he flailed in his seat to see where Cas had landed. There on the floor next to him in a pile of blood was his crumpled friend, laying motionless.

"Cas! Sam, Cas is still in there!" he shouted straining against his restraints so forcefully he could feel more blood gushing from his wounds.

"I know, it's ok Dean, I aimed for his shoulder," Sam huffed, rushing to his brothers side to cut him free. "What the hell happened anyway? When I called, Cas said you were going to celebrate, didn't think that involved abandoned warehouses twenty miles out."

"Damn demon got the jump on him, knocked me out and dragged me out here. Was gonna exorcise the motherfucker, but he said he'd stabbed Cas before hand. Couldn't really check him over given the bondage the sick fuck's into."

The moment Dean was free he moved to his knees carefully, rolling Cas onto his back, amazed to see his eyes still wide open and glaring at him angrily.

"Devil's trap bullets, Sam?" Dean asked checking to see if there was an exit wound on his right shoulder and Sam only grunted in response. "Alright you fucker let's see what damage you've really done."

It felt a little odd, but he pawed at Cas' clothes, checking for any wounds that might do his dear friend in. All the blood on his abdomen was long since dried and crusted, no wounds on his skin to speak of other than his new fancy bullet wound.

"You think he'll be ok if we pull it out now?" Sam asked, leaning down to jerk Cas up into a sitting position.

"Never know until you try, huh boys?" Cas cackled, grinning at Dean as Sam kept him upright.

"When you get back to hell, I'm sure they'll have a special room waiting for you. And all the other bastards we've sent packing. Sammy, send him home."

Watching the exorcism wasn't his idea of a good time. He stayed facing away, using his ripped shirt to slow the bleeding from his side. The sound of Cas choking out a demon was bad enough and it only got worse when he didn't make a sound afterwards. When he turned back to face them, Sam was heaving Cas up off of the floor, his limbs dangling lifelessly. His chest tightened, watching closely as Sam shuffled closer to him with a dejected look on his face.

"Is he-"

"He's breathing," Sam sighed, shifting Cas' weight uncomfortably in his arms. "When he wakes up and we have to dig this bullet out of his shoulder he isn't going to be happy though."

"Yeah well I don't think he'd be happy either way, poor guy was just possessed by the nastiest demon I've had the pleasure of meeting yet. Let's pack up our shit and clear out. You're gonna have your work cut out for you tonight. Stitches all around!" Dean groaned, reaching out to pat Cas' arm lightly. He was still a tough son of a bitch.

---

The bunker was quiet aside from the sounds of Dean hissing sharply every time Sam pulled the needle through his skin. Cas was still out cold on the couch and Kevin was somewhere locked up in his room once he saw the foul mood Dean seemed to be in. When Sam was done wrapping him in gauze and bandages he glanced over at Cas tentatively. They'd managed to bandage up the cut on his forehead and cheek without waking him. All that was left was the bullet.

"Should we wake him?" Sam asked, dropping the suture needle into a pan of rubbing alcohol.

"I'll do it. I'm the one who dragged him into this mess. Why don't you make a run to the store and get some more bandages or something. I'll work on getting the bullet out."

Sam thankfully didn't argue, knowing something had to have happened before he showed up and saved the day. Hell, there was no way he missed the way the demon had Cas straddling him in the chair. It was all amounts of weird and wrong, but Dean really didn't seem to mind. Demons were known for being lying bastards, but even if what he had said about Cas was true, it really and truly wouldn't have bothered him. He wasn't exactly sure why and maybe it had something to do with that 'profound bond' Cas said they shared, but if Cas liked him that way, more power to him. Who was he to judge?

Once Sam had cleared out, Dean moved his chair closer to the couch, leaning over to pat Cas on the cheek a little rougher than he probably should have. The ex-angle's eyes flew open, his arms flailing for a moment before he realized his right shoulder was in an immense amount of pain and flopped back down onto the couch staring up at Dean.

"Earth to Castiel, you in there man?" he muttered, watching Cas' blue eyes searching his face again. He looked petrified.

"Dean. Are you alright? I couldn't stop it-I-"

"Good as can be, considering I was stabbed a couple times. Sam shot you, so don't go wavin' your arm around. Gotta get that bullet out of you and patch you up."

Cas slowly pulled himself upright of the couch, wincing in pain as he cradled his right arm against his body like a wounded animal. He didn't argue or complain when Dean grabbed the pair of scissors from the table behind him and started to cut the shirt free from his body. Lifting his arm would have been murder at this point and there was no need to save the blood stained shirt anyway. Once he was free of the clothing however, he sat with his eyes glued to the floor, fidgeting nervously as Dean retrieved yet another tool, a pair of forceps to dig the bullet out.

"You want something to bite down on, or a drink?" Dean asked, positioning himself beside Cas' arm.

"I will endure it. Go ahead."

"Dude you don't have to act tough for me, you were just possessed by a demon and shot. You're human now, act it."

Cas didn't respond, still glaring at the floor like it had offended him somehow. Dean rolled his eyes, reaching out to grab his shoulder and started digging. The first prod into the wound was probably the worst. Dean wasn't know for being the most gentle of people and Cas lurched under his grasp, clawing at the cushion of the couch with his free hand.

"I warned you," he sighed, trying to back off a little as he dug through his friends shoulder to find the bullet.

"I will live. Things could have gone a very different way and I am ashamed I allowed myself to be controlled like that."

"Yeah 'cause most human beings can just stop a demon possession before it starts. Look man, it happens and we're all alive so no hard feelings. We just gotta make sure to get you a tattoo before we go out next time. That's all," Dean chuckled, trying to lighten the mood despite the fact that he was wiggling a metal instrument around in Cas' shoulder. "There you are you little sucker!"

Cas grounded loudly as Dean slid the bullet out of his shoulder with a sickening squish, more blood running down his back with the blockage gone. Grabbing a piece of alcohol soaked gauze he handed it over to Cas and quickly tossed the bullet in the trash.

"Huh, maybe we shoulda framed that? Like a memento, first bullet wound as a human?" he asked, grinning at Cas as he wiped the blood from his own shoulder and pressed the gauze into his wound with a wince.

"I don't think so Dean. I'd rather not remember today if at all possible."

Dean just sat frowning at his friend, wondering what was really eating away at him. Sure he probably felt bad for the possession, but he had to know that there was nothing he could have done to stop it. No matter how hard he tried or what kind of celestial being he had been in the past. That left only one thing. The things the demon had said about his feelings for Dean. He was worried, petrified even. If the statements had been true, he was no doubt sure that Dean would shove him away and shun him for his feelings.

"Hey if this attitude is about what the demon said-" Dean mumbled, watching Cas pull himself up off of the couch.

"Demons are nothing more than deceiving bottom feeders. You know this Dean. I don't care what it did or didn't say. I am tired and would like to take a nap."

"Sure thing man, whatever you say."

Fear. It was a nasty thing that came on more flavors than he cared to count. Most of which were pitch black and consuming. He watched Cas tape a dry piece of gauze to his shoulder and shuffle off to his room quietly. By the time Sam had made it back, Dean was sprawled out over the couch, taking large swigs of whiskey straight from the bottle. It could have gone very differently. He could have just told Cas that it was alright, he liked him too. But he didn't. Why he didn't he'd never know, but he just couldn't get the words out.

"Where's Cas?" Sam asked, dropping his bag of convenient store spoils on the table next to all the bloody instruments. "I got him a sandwich, figured he'd be hungry."

"Turns out having a piece of metal pulled out of your flesh kinda takes it out of you. He went to pass out. Bring me any pie?" Dean asked, sitting up slowly, trying not to aggravate his wounds.

Sam just stood there frowning at him for a moment before he reached into the bag and pulled out two mini-pecan pies and slid them down the table closer to Dean. Kevin emerged from his room just long enough to steal a sandwich and a soda before he slid back into his room and went back to doing whatever it was he did when he was alone in there. Dean shuddered lightly, realizing it was better if he didn't even think about that situation. And of course, Sam had bought himself one of those pre-packaged salads that made him want to gag.

"So, what all did the demon say Dean? Like, what did it want?" Sam asked, chewing his lettuce like an overgrown cow. Moose, it fits.

At the end of the hall, Dean could see Cas passing through the hallway as Sam asked his question, probably on his way to the bathroom. But he froze the moment the words were out and Dean knew he was petrified that he'd tell Sam everything that happened.

"What do they always want Sammy?" he sighed, digging into his second pie, pretending not to notice Cas. "To kill us slow and bloody. He kept going on and on about some kinda of vendetta. I mean you know, we put most of them back in hell, they're all after us."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Cas was the only thing it could grab onto, poor guy. Had to be hell, I know I didn't enjoy being moved around like a damn chess piece."

Cas' shoulders relaxed, making his way to the bathroom silently once he realized Dean wasn't going to spill the whole can of beans. Was it important for Sammy to know that the demon insinuated that Cas wished to fuck him into oblivion? Probably not, it wasn't a footnote that his little brother needed to hear. Cas sure as hell didn't want to talk about it so there was no point in telling anyone else. When he was ready, Dean would be willing to listen. No judgements, no hate. There was enough of that going around without him throwing it at someone for having a feeling they couldn't control. But he could tell that things were not going to be the same between them anymore. Cas was scared of Dean now. Sacred of what he thought of him. Something was just going to have to give one way or another.

---

With the demon possession behind them and their wounds on the mend, all that was left was the awkward silence that filled the room whenever they weren't talking about a case. Cas had barely even made eye contact with him since the incident and Dean was starting to get a little fed up with the cold shoulder. He just couldn't bring himself to snap at the poor guy. After popping his stitches open twice in one day after the warehouse ordeal, Dean was benched while Sam and Cas took care of the hunts after they'd gotten him properly branded. It had been weeks now and he was starting to get restless.

"Hey how'd it go?" Dean asked as Cas shuffled into the bunker carrying a large duffle bag. "Where's Sam?"

"Bringing in supplies."

Dean frowned, standing up from the couch with his whiskey bottle clutched firmly in hand. Maybe it was because he'd had too much to drink, but Cas was just pissing him off with his short and sweet answers to everything. His non-committal gestures and half glances. He didn't care what it took, he was getting to the bottom of it tonight. One way or another.

"Look Cas, you can stop with this bullshit. I didn't do anything wrong here, so why are you giving me the cold shoulder?" he demanded and Cas finally looked him in the face for the first time in what felt like forever. Blue eyes scrunched up, but still looking at him.

"I'm not-"

"Like hell you're not. Ever since we got back from that warehouse this is how it's been. I'm sick of it man. Just talk to me-"

The moment Sam entered the room Cas bailed, taking off down the hallway to shut himself in his room. It took everything Dean had not to chuck the bottle down the hall, but he quickly reminded himself it would be a waste of perfectly good whiskey. Sam knew something was up and the solemn look he gave Dean when he reached the bottom of the stairs wasn't helping his mood any.

"He still acting off?" Sam asked, dropping a bag of groceries on the table next to the duffle.

"Yeah. Off is putting it mildly. You'd think I was the one who shoved the damn thing down his throat or something. It's like he's punishing me or some bullshit," Dean huffed, taking another gulp of the caramel liquid. "I mean, does he even talk to you?"

"Not about that. I mostly get things about the case. He's just in a funk Dean, he's not used to feeling helpless like that. All things considered, he could be a lot worse right now. I mean, he could be drowning himself in liquor to get through the day."

Dean glared up at him, sitting the bottle down to dig through the food, looking for anything remotely edible. Of course, as usual, there was always one thing missing.

"Where the hell is my pie?" he snapped.

"They were out, eat a carrot for once in your life."

"Screw you man, I'd rather starve to death."

Snatching up his bottle of whiskey, Dean shuffled off to his room, contemplating slamming on Cas' door along the way, but decided it was best not to piss him off anymore. Flopping down on his memory foam mattress he tried to tell himself it was just best to sleep off the booze and confront Cas later when everyone else was asleep. But all he could do way lay there, rolling from side to side on the bed trying to find a comfortable spot. In the end he settled for laying across the bed on his back, his head hanging off of the edge so that he was staring at the door upside down.

He wasn't sure how long he'd laid there before he drifted off to sleep, waking with a jolt and choked on his own drool as he sat up on the bed. Fumbling around in the dark, he found his cellphone in the bed beside him, mashing random buttons to light up the screen and instantly regretting the action. It was nearly four am and as far as he could tell, the entire bunker was passed out. Now would have been a good time to ambush Cas and get some answers once and for all. Right after he located his whiskey.

Sneaking into Cas' room wasn't the hardest thing he'd ever done. The door was unlocked, given the fact that half of the bunkers residents could pick locks in their sleep it was pointless to even try. They had a sock rule, though he was sure now that he thought about it, Cas had never used it. But then again, neither did he. Shit, it was a bunker full of men, they all knew not to walk into a bedroom uninvited unless they wanted to see things that would scar them for life. Yet there he was, waltzing right into Cas' room while the guy was probably unconscious or some shit. And that was the best case scenario.

The room didn't look any different from the first time Dean had seen it and that was back when they first plopped Cas' rickety twin bed into the room and left. It was literally all the guy had aside from the few broken hangers in the closet draped haphazardly with clothes given to him from the things Dean and Sam never wore anymore. It looked kind of like a prison cell without the toilet in the corner. He didn't even have a damn nightstand for crying out loud. His cellphone was laying on the floor at the head of the bed, his arm dangling off the ridiculously small mattress so that his hand mashed the keys often enough to keep the room illuminated just enough to see where you were going without falling over anything. If there had been anything to trip over. Why hadn't Dean gone in sooner? It was a heartbreaking sight and he swore the first thing he'd do with any kind of money he got his hands on was buy Cas a real bedroom suit.

Taking a shaky breath, he made his way to the foot of the bed, smirking at how Cas' bare feet hung off the end. He wondered for a moment if he was ticklish but quickly realized that if someone woke him up like that, he'd probably shoot them. Then again, he was pretty sure Cas wasn't paranoid enough to sleep with a gun under his pillow. Reaching out slowly, he prodded the bottom of Cas' foot with the whiskey bottle, frowning when he didn't even budge. Guess that's a no on the tickles...

"Cas," he whispered, scoffing when the only response he got was an agitated grunt. "Cas, dude, you sleep like a rock. Wake up!"

It was almost a little too adorable to watch Cas slowly open his eyes, glancing around the room innocently, trying to figure out what was going on. It broke his heart to realize he would have jumped out of his damn skin. Cas just wasn't affected by it yet and Dean hoped he never would be. He wanted nothing more than for him to keep that innocence as long as he could. When he finally spotted Dean, he rolled onto his side, squinting up at him in the dimly lit room.

"Dean? Is there something wrong?" Cas mumbled, sitting up slowly.

"No, I mean nothing serious. No one's hurt is what I'm saying. I came to talk to you, since you wont talk to me any other time. Shit I can't even get you to look in my direction."

"Can't this wait until morning, Dean? I am still tired from the hunt."

"No it sure as hell can't wait till morning. What's going on with you? I know the whole demon possession thing sucked ass, but you don't need to punish me for it. I did everything I could to get it out and keep you safe."

"I know that you did, I was still in there for the entire thing. I had to watch it tie you up and cut into you. To hear it speak in my voice. You can not imagine the torture that was for me."

"Nope, I really can't. Never have been possessed, but that's not the problem here Cas. You and I both know you had no control over it and you're still acting like this. You're scared, I can see it."

"What is there to be scared of, Dean? The demon is gone, I'm alive. Like you said."

"You're afraid of me."

Cas shifted on the bed, sitting so that his knees were pulled against his chest like a five year old trying to curl in on itself. Dean could see the denial washing over his face, even when the light from the cellphone on the floor cut out and he had to wait for his eyes to slowly adjust. He could hear the excuse Cas was coming up with before he even opened his mouth to speak.

"I just want to be a better hunter, Dean. I was ashamed of what happened and I am working to get through it. I apologize if you feel I've slighted you in any way," Cas demanded, setting his jaw in a display of finality.

"I don't care Cas."

"If it is not an apology you're looking for, then I do not understand why you're here."

"No Cas, I don't care. About what the demon said. If it was true, I don't care."

When the realization set in, Dean waited patiently for Cas to respond. Maybe he would continue to ignore the situation and play dumb. If he did, there was nothing he could do to make Cas fess up to it, but at the very least, Dean had made it clear that it didn't bother him. He cared for Cas way too much to let something as trivial as a sexual fantasy come between them. He considered Cas family and nothing would ever change that.

Smirking, Dean shuffled closer to the bed, sitting beside Cas who was still hugging his knees like a frightened child. Without a single word between them, he passed the bottle of whiskey still clutched in his hand to him and watched him take a small swig, his face contorting from the burn. After a moment, Cas pressed the bottle back to his lips and took another drink, more generous this time. It was fairly obvious that Dean wasn't going to get the bottle back so he settled for leaning forward on his knees, tapping his fingertips together repeatedly as he waited for the fallen angel to talk. He didn't care if it took him all night, he wasn't budging.

"I was tying so hard to keep the demon from getting to everything that I let things slip through. Things I tried very hard not to think about. It's been more difficult now, with this limited brain power, to keep it out of my head. I am sorry Dean," Cas mumbled, pressing his forehead into his knees to hide his face.

"What are you sorry for Cas? You think that shit matters to me? You're Cas and I like you just the way you are. Sexual fantasies and all," he snorted, reaching over to forcibly take his whiskey back. "Fuck man, you should have said something sooner, we could have done something about this."

"Like what? Return to the den of-"

"No, don't call it that. No that's not what I meant. Me and you, we coulda figured this out together. I mean, I gotta ask, is it all dudes or just me?"

Cas lifted his head slowly, his eyebrows pressed together as he peered at Dean with a confused expression. Well really, Dean was sure it was the only expression Castiel actually had.

"Why does that matter?" he asked, a touch of annoyance to his rough voice.

"It matters because it determines how we deal with this. If it's all dudes then we go out and we find someone you like. If it's just me-" Dean's voice caught in his throat, causing him to cough lightly before he could continue. "Well that means something totally different."

"What is the difference? If it is just you, what does that mean, Dean?"

"It means, well you remember when you said that we had a, uh, 'profound bond'?"

Cas nodded his head lightly, finally sitting up without his knees pulled against his chest. Now that Dean was actually entertaining the conversation, he didn't seem as paranoid as before. Now they were getting it out in the open and he was sure Cas was relieved Dean hadn't told him he was a sick fuck and made him leave the bunker forever.

"Well, I think for humans, that means love. Maybe you love me Cas and you just don't know how to put it into words. It's not like you've been human for long, things are gonna feel different. And that's not always a bad thing."

"I see."

"So is it? Just me? I'm totally cool with it if it is, Cas. Don't be ashamed of it. Just tell me what you're feeling so I can help."

Cas nodded his head, shifting his eyes to anywhere in the room other than Dean's face. For some reason, Dean couldn't help but smile, pulling the bottle to his lips and took a drink before he pushed it back toward Cas. There was a clumsy moment when Cas' fingers brushed his own and they almost dropped the bottle, but Cas lurched forward to catch it, nearly falling off the bed.

"Calm down man," Dean laughed, watched Cas frown and down another large gulp of whiskey. "The world isn't gonna collapse on itself because you like me."

"I thought you said it was love?"

"Yeah, love. That too, I guess. So what do you wanna do about it? Are you just gonna keep pushing it down? Cause I dunno if that's gonna work out so well for this kind of thing."

"What else can I do Dean? I've made it this far without doing anything about it and I'm fine."

Dean scoffed lightly, pulling the bottle back to sit it on the floor under the bed. Fine? Cas was not fine. And now that things were out in the open he knew it would only continue to get worse. The want would continue to grow and fester until he started to seek out other means of comfort. And the thought of Cas running around screwing whatever guy was willing didn't set quite right with him. Sure he'd practically slept his way through the states a few times, but that was behind him now. Maybe he'd finally grown up.

"It won't be like before Cas. It'll be harder now. And I'm not the person that should be lecturing you about this, but you're gonna need something sooner or later and I don't want you to run out and do something you'll regret later. Someone, you'll regret later, if you know what I mean. When you love someone, it hurts in a whole different way when things don't go right. You fight and argue more, because you care. If that makes any damn sense. Sam will eventually figure it out and that'll make you uncomfortable. We have to-"

He made the mistake of looking over at Cas at just the wrong time. He was staring at Dean with such a heartbroken expression that it made him want to slap himself in the face and just shut up. Castiel had given up heaven for him. He'd died so many times for Dean that it was sickening. Dean said he would have died for the guy in a heartbeat. So why didn't he just shut his stupid mouth and do whatever it would take to make Cas happy?

"I'm just gonna shut up now," he laughed, running his hands through his hair roughly.

"This is what you mean by it getting harder? We won't be able to speak to each other normally anymore?" Cas asked, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog.

"No, it won't be like that. I won't let it get like that," he demanded, leaning closer to Cas, smirking when he moved back to keep the space between them the same. "C'mere idiot."

"But, personal space, Dean," Cas protested, completely oblivious as to what was going on.

"Screw personal space and get over here."

Reaching out, he grabbed Cas by the wrist, jerking him forward so roughly that he yelped when their faces clashed. Dean cursed himself mentally when he felt his teeth bash into Cas', but he didn't stop. Pulling back just slightly, he adjusted himself so that when their lips met again it wasn't a bloody clash of teeth, pressing against Cas just enough to let him know that he was willing to give this a go. Of course, the emotionally stunted ex-angel didn't respond well, sitting like a frozen statue perched on the bed in infinite confusion. Dean wasn't sure if he should laugh or feel a little rejected, he sure as hell had gotten with the program a lot faster when Meg had kissed him.

"Cas, you're supposed to kiss me back, man," Dean chuckled, pulling back to see the look of utter shock on Cas' face. His blue eyes wide and maybe a little frightened? Maybe this wasn't what he wanted at all and he was just now figuring it out. But that wasn't the case at all. With Dean's open invitation on the table, Cas flew forward, wrapping his hands around the back of Dean's neck so that he could pull him closer. When their lips met this time, it was a little startling to see just how eager Castiel really was. The kiss was tender and soft, but there was a desire behind it that gave Dean chills.

Somewhere in the bunker Dean heard a door slam and their small breakthrough came to a crashing halt. Cas ripped himself away from Dean, staring at the door in horror. Maybe going at it for the first time in a bunker full of other men wasn't the best idea Dean had ever conceived. Cas was nervous to begin with and it was obvious that he couldn't be expected to perform with an unknowing audience just down the hall. Nodding, Dean leaned down to collect his bottle and stood up from the bed.

"Another time then, when we've got a little more privacy?" he asked and Cas just stared up at him as if what was happening was all a dream. It made him wonder how many times Cas had actually dreamed about this exact thing happening. "Unless you want that to be it?"

"No Dean, of course not," he stammered, twisting his hands into the sheets nervously.

"Then just wait it out. When we have some more alone time, we'll work it out."

Cas nodded, watching Dean shuffle to the door, peeking out to make sure the coast was clear before he slid out of the room and back down the hall to his own. It would get better, Cas wasn't alone in this anymore and that made him feel more relaxed with the whole thing. Everything was under control. Everything was fine.

---

Everything was not under control, everything was not fucking fine. Three whole weeks they'd gone without speaking another word about whatever it was they had. Cas and Dean were no closer to figuring anything out than a few chaste kisses in the hallway when no one was looking. He felt like a god damn teenager all over again, sneaking make out sessions in the janitor's closet at school. Except there was no actual making out! The problem was, first and foremost, Kevin.

It wasn't that Dean didn't like having Kevin around, the guy was a genius and part of the family. The trouble was, he never fucking left the bunker. He was always holed up in his room, reading his fancy tablets or surfing the internet for porn, hell Dean didn't know. Sam was easy enough to get rid of for a few hours, but Kevin always stayed. Cas unfortunately still retained his saint like patience, while Dean was the one left scrambling around in his own head like a mad man. He could only hope that it was driving Cas crazy on the inside and he was just really good at hiding it. It was only a few kisses, so why was he so freaked out? Because he'd been left alone with his imagination and the dreams were starting to get to him. There were only so many times a man could rub one out in the shower before it was no longer good enough. He was losing his shit, over a dude. Over Cas. Generally mild mannered Cas, who always sat just out of reach reading, right where Dean could always see him, but never do anything about it. Part of him wanted to say fuck the audience and just attack him right there on the couch, until Sam walked in the room and gave him a funny look for glaring at Cas like he was trying to set him aflame.

"Dude, you cool?" Sam asked, sitting across from him at the table.

"Huh? What, I'm fine. What's on the agenda today?" Dean muttered, forcing himself to look away from Cas long enough to make eye contact with his brother.

"Well you know, the usual, dead bodies, or rather pieces of bodies. Turning up all over the county, all from different people. Some that have gone missing clear across the country. Like, someone made a patchwork doll of people and misplaced half it's parts," Sam sighed and Dean could see Cas perk up on the couch. Maybe the answer wasn't getting Kevin out of the bunker, maybe the answer was taking Cas away and dealing with the immense sexual frustration that was driving him mad.

"Or something. Awesome, Cas and I'll get right on it. Head into town and see the Frankenstein museum-" Dean yawned, trying to make it seem like he wasn't excited to go.

"Actually, I thought I'd take care of this one," Sam protested, holding the file in his hands like a life raft.

"What? Why you? I mean we all went on a case last week and nothing happened. Cas and I can handle it."

"Yeah well, Kevin has been itching to get out and do something other than read, so I thought I might take him along. He's gotten pretty good with a shotgun, I think he can handle himself."

If that wasn't a sign from God, Dean was sure it was just another dream fucking with him. Sam was going to take Kevin out on a hunt? And leave him and Cas alone? For possibly days? But that would mean-

"Wait that means you're taking my Baby?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Sam.

"Look man," Sam sighed, leaning across the table to whisper. "We can all see that you and Cas, have some tension to work out."

Dean sat perfectly still, like somehow Sam could smell the gay in the room if he moved around too much. Cas was still staring over at them, no doubt trying to figure out what they were talking about. How had Sam figured it out so soon? They'd been careful, hadn't they? Never too close to one another while anyone was around.

"See, that's what I mean right there," Sam chuckled, still keeping his voice low. "We won't be gone long, but while we're gone maybe you can finally get him to talk to you. Punch it out or whatever you need to do."

Dean slowly relaxed, Sam still thought they were arguing. That was a good sign at least. But still, his car.

"Right I get it, but do you have to take Baby with you? What if something happens to her?" Dean whined, worried and trying to convince Sam that was his only worry all at the same time.

"Well we could take a bus-"

"Great I'll buy the tickets."

"Dean no, I was being sarcastic. I took care of her while you gone a few times, she'll be perfectly fine."

"Fine, fine! I have one condition though. More like two."

Sam sat there expectantly, leaning back in his chair now that he didn't have to whisper about Cas anymore. Dean pulled over a scrap of paper jotting down a list and slid it across the table to his brother.

"First, Kevin does not drive Baby. Ever. Second, on you way back I need you to stop and pick up a few things," Dean demanded, gesturing to the list.

"Clothes and...furniture?" Sam scoffed, looking up at Dean like he was crazy. "This is a whole bedroom suit Dean!"

"Yeah well, you wanna take Baby or not? I need this stuff, so it's this or no deal."

Sam groaned, nodding as he reached across the table for the car keys and Dean reluctantly handed them over. Giving Sam a 'I'll be watching you' look before he finally dropped the keys into his hand. Nodding Sam stood up and made his way down the hall to Kevin's door, banging on it loudly.

"Kevin! You're up man, pack your stuff lets go," Sam bellowed stalking off to his own room to grab his duffle.

Dean was surprised to see Kevin burst out of the room with a backpack already strapped over one shoulder, beaming like a kid being told they were going to Disney land for the first time ever. He couldn't help but watch the scene in mock horror as Sam lead the way toward the stairs with Kevin in tow. He was practically dancing in place. But then he remembered what he was doing this for. Why he was allowing it. Cas. Who was still sitting on the couch, his book long forgotten as he watched the events unfold with all the confusion of a blind deaf guy at an art gallery.

There was only a small moment of regret as he heard his beloved Chevy roar to life and drive away and then it was silent. The moment Dean had been waiting for all that time was staring him in the face and he wasn't sure what to do now. Cas was still sitting on the couch, staring at him. Did they wait until they were sure Sam and Kevin were gone, or did Dean just pounce on him and never let go? He could always act out one of the million dreams he'd had since their conversation in Cas' bedroom. But those had all been of Dean ravishing Cas. The demon had made it quite clear that Castiel wanted to do the ravishing. He wasn't sure he exactly liked the idea of being the bottom end of the relationship, not after all the dreams, but whatever made Cas happy. It was all about Cas, not him.

"Where did they go?" Cas asked, slowly standing up from his seat. It felt like the first time Dean had heard his real voice in weeks.

"Hunting. Body parts. Missing people. Stuff," he rambled, slowly making his way over to the couch where Cas now stood fidgeting in place.

"They are hunting body parts of missing people? And we're not going with them?"

"No, we're not. You remember when I told you to wait it out, well this is it. We've waited long enough."

Cas was not exactly the fastest at picking up on sexual advances. Dean wanted nothing more than to shove him back onto the couch and have his way with him. But that wasn't how it was supposed to go. It was Cas' first time, there should have been some sort of tenderness in the act right? Cas was no woman, but he respected the idea of love. Their episode with the pizza man porno was proof enough of that. If he truly loves the babysitter...

"I don't understand what I am supposed to do Dean," Cas mumbled, pulling Dean out of his memory of that very awkward moment. Sam was in the room for crying out loud.

"Whatever you want," Dean shrugged. "That's the whole point of this. To have what you want."

Cas' confused expression suddenly dropped as if he were bashed in the head with the secrets to the universe. It wasn't until he took a step back away from Dean that he realized he'd said something wrong. Cas was frowning at him, almost as if he were disappointed in him for some reason. He was sure three weeks ago that this was what Cas had wanted and now he was upset?

"No Dean," he demanded, glancing around the room for an escape. "That is not the point of this."

"It's not? Cause I'm pretty sure that's what it was back in your room."

Cas shook his head and settled for sitting back down on the couch. He leaned forward on his knees like he had seen Dean do so many times, propping his head up on his thumbs. He wasn't even looking at Dean anymore, those intense blue eyes staring off into space somewhere at the other end of the bunker. After what felt like an hour of watching him space out, Dean was sure he was going to have to poke him with a stick to get him talking, but he finally sighed, pulling his eyes up to Dean's face.

"It doesn't mean anything if it happens for that reason Dean. If you are only doing this as an attempt to make me happy, it's not worth it. That is not what I wanted."

And finally, it dawned on him. He'd made it seem like all Cas wanted was to screw him. As usual he'd said the wrong thing at the wrong time, even though he knew that it meant more for Cas than just a quick fuck. Combing his hands through his hair he sat down next to Cas, thinking of exactly the way to say what he had meant in the first place without giving him the wrong idea.

"That wasn't how I meant it, Cas. I know that this is more important that the physical end of it. If it weren't it wouldn't have bothered you as much when the demon blurted it out. I just want you to be happy. Thats what people who care about each other do," he sighed, leaning back on the couch to stare at the man beside him who still hadn't moved an inch. Sometimes it was almost like he was an angel again. "If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't be here right now, got it? Now it's stuck in my head too and these dreams are starting to drive me up the damn wall. It's not just about what you want cause I want it too."

Cas finally turned his head to the side to peer at him, not confused this time, but intrigued.

"Dreams?" he asked, sitting back so that they were now even on the couch. "What kind of dreams?"

"The overly perverted kind, it's like a porno going twenty-four-seven in here man!" he hissed. "I have been dying to get Kevin out of this damn bunker for weeks now, just to get a shot at you. I'm way past the insecurities of sleeping with a guy for the first time ever and on to full blown horny teenager."

Cas just smiled at him. It was a half smile, but a smile none the less and for some reason it made him a little ticked off. Was he making fun of him? Was this all some part of an elaborate joke the guys were playing on him? Get him all worked up over Cas, a man he didn't realized he loved like that until it was brought to his attention, then Sam and Kevin pop up out of nowhere and yell 'GOTCHA!' He was suddenly tense, ready to shoot them if it went down like that.

"Well that is good to hear, Dean," Cas huffed. "It's good to know I'm not the only one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That now I have no control over these thoughts and even though I wanted to tone them down, I couldn't. It is nice to know that it is a human thing. Not just me. I thought I was, defective."

"Cas, you could never be defective. Having naughty fantasies is all just part of the human coil. Like random boners when you brush up against something for no damn reason. Lots of weird pointless shit comes with being human, but you're not defective, hear me?"

Cas nodded, leaning closer to him and he tried not to sigh in relief that they were finally on the same page. They were finally going to do something about the mounting sexual tension. Castiel's kiss this time around was anything but soft and sweet. There was no more chasteness to his advances, it was pure hunger. If this is how he learned to kiss from watching one porn forever ago, he hated to think what else the guy had learned from hanging around a bunker full of guys and endless porn websites on the internet. Hell, for all Dean knew, maybe Cas was now some kind of sex guru. Sam had taught him how to use the laptop those first few weeks he was left alone with Kevin in the bunker. Not to mention whatever Kevin taught him and he was a fast learner. Very fast. Before Dean could even fully process what was going on, Cas had his tongue shoved in his mouth, his hand buried in Dean's hair to hold him still. The demon was right, Cas had dreamed about this for a while.

Dean tried to fight back for some kind of dominance in the kiss, but Cas just wasn't going to allow it to happen. The fallen angel shifted, pulling his legs up onto the couch so that he could sit up on his knees. Without breaking the kiss, Cas' warm hands pressed against his chest, flattening him out onto the couch with a grunt. He was trying so hard to understand what he was supposed to do in this kind of situation, normally it was him pinning someone to a couch and kissing them until their lips were practically bruised. At any rate, he would have time to catch up, Cas certainly seemed to enjoy kissing quite a bit. Exploring every inch of Dean's mouth he could reach, the taste of coffee still lingering on Cas' tongue and he absently wondered when he'd had coffee. Maybe while he was in the shower.

When Cas was finally forced to break away for air, Dean was silently thankful that he remembered they both needed to breath now. If they had done that when he was an angel, Cas could have probably kissed him until he literally suffocated to death. Only to bring him right back. For a moment Cas just hovered over him, staring at him intently with those blue eyes that seemed endless and Dean was sure he was going to go right back to kissing him once he caught his breath. But things only got worse once Castiel was no longer occupied with his mouth. And by worse, he meant infinitely better. Cas grabbed a handful of his short hair and jerked his head back roughly so that his neck was fully exposed. Dean growled, pain mixed eerily with a pleasure he didn't think would come so quickly and made a mental note to never cut his hair too short after this experience. If Cas couldn't tug on his hair like that in the future, it wasn't worth having hair in his opinion.

Cas waited for a moment, frowning down at him, trying to gauge if maybe he'd been a little too rough. Dean just nodded his head as much as Cas' fingers would allow and he instantly dipped his head down to kiss Dean's collarbone. Dean let out a small contented sigh at the action and once Cas was sure he was on board, he dragged his teeth over the sensitive skin, nipping lightly. He couldn't help but shiver under him, wondering just where the hell he learned all of these things and more importantly, why he liked it so damn much. Each nip and lick Cas delivered had a direct line to his groin and left him squirming and growling under the slighter male. One particularly hard bite to the pulse point on his neck made him gasp, jerking against Cas' hold on his hair and all action ceased. Cas sat up with a worried look in his eyes, releasing his hair as Dean panted beneath him.

"Dean, was that too much?" he asked, genuinely concerned he'd already messed up.

"No," Dean sighed, sitting up on his elbows. "But you're gonna have to explain to me later where you learned all this."

"Is that really important?"

"No, but it's going to drive me crazy."

"Good."

Without even warning him, Cas grabbed another handful of his hair and ripped his head back, kissing his way from his collarbone up the side of his neck, leaving a trail of cool wet marks in his wake. Dean wanted to turn his head, to lean up and press his lips against Cas', but his iron grip on his hair didn't allow it. Castiel slowly worked his way down his jaw, nipping at his lower lip lightly before the hand was gone as well as Cas' weight from his body. Jerking up, Dean stared at him in confusion. Cas was standing beside the couch, his back turned to him, his shoulders shaking. It looked almost as if he were crying and Dean wasn't sure what to say.

"Forgive me, Dean, I find it a bit humorous," Cas chortled and he nearly fell off of the side of the couch. Cas was laughing? In that one small moment Dean was reminded of the demon that had rooted itself inside Cas and used his voice to speak. This was almost the same tone and it made his heart ache. "You asked me to explain where I learned these things from."

"Yeah, and? I said later, didn't I? What's up with the chuckles?"

"I was a celestial being for many, many years Dean. I may not be able to hide things away in my mind like I could before, but I still retain memories from the beginning of time," Cas sighed, turning to face him again with a loving smirk on his lips. No this wasn't the demon, this was what Cas used to be. "I have observed humans for millennia. If there is one thing that humans are driven by, it is always their desire to mate. And maybe now I belong to that group, but it was foolish to me for the longest time. I pitied people scampering around looking for a thing they called love. Searching for a thing that could not be seen or held. An ethereal entity so rare to find in it's true form that it surely never really existed."

"Where you goin' with this Cas, cause if this is your bedroom talk you didn't observe enough-"

"I find it humorous that in my short time as a human being, I have already found what they searched for endlessly."

That did it, if Dean had ever doubted Cas' sexual abilities before, all of it was thrown out the window now. The son of a bitch was smooth. Cas wasn't shot for Castiel anymore, this guy was laying down Casanova shit. There was no stopping the huge, stupid grin that spread across his face and he swung his legs off the side of the couch and sat up, reaching a hand out toward Cas. It was turning into a chick flick after all.

"What happened to the whole, tying me to a bed and fucking me into oblivion?" he snorted, watching Cas tilt his head to the side.

"The demon's choice of words, not mine Dean. Though now that I think about it, it does have its appeal."

"Alright, so I'll just throw out whatever it said and let you keep up with this Shakespeare serenade you got goin'. I mean with all the hair tugging, I thought you were gonna pull a whip any second."

Cas shook his head, taking Dean's hand and jerked him to his feet with more strength than Dean remembered him having. Maybe more of his angel abilities lingered than they originally thought. Or maybe it was just adrenaline fueled. If he tried to pick him up and carry him anywhere though, he was out.

"Would that make you more excited? Whips and chains? I'm sure there are some laying around here somewhere," Cas asked and Dean seriously hoped he was joking. "Then again, what is the point of chaining the willing or whipping the obedient?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer the rhetorical question, only to be instantly silenced by Cas' mouth covering his own. A warm hand snaked under his t-shirt, inching it's way up his spine only to drag back down with dull nails, making his groan into the kiss. He was more used to sharp nails digging in and leaving trails of blood behind, but Cas left raised welts that didn't hurt so much as throb. When Cas pulled free from his mouth, he pressed his cheek against Dean's, whispering in his ear breathlessly.

"Perhaps next time we will explore that side of intercourse. When you've misbehaved. For I am quite certain there will be no misbehaving today, will there Dean?"

He wasn't quite sure what compelled him to do it, but Dean shook his head no, earning a proud grin from Cas' lips when he pulled away again. Flashbacks of the times Cas had scared him senseless replaying in his mind and he wondered for a moment if they were going to have a healthy relationship. Of course, those times Cas hadn't really been himself. He doubted that the fallen angel was going to start slamming his fist into his face while they fucked. Or at least, he hoped not. He wasn't sure how he would respond in that type of situation. Would he be angry, or just more aroused? It had certainly gotten him hot dreaming about pushing Cas against a wall roughly and drilling him to no end, now he had to imagine what that would be like on the receiving end of that. Rough slaps on the ass, hard bites that nearly drew blood littered across his neck and chest. Taken to the brink of ecstasy and quickly jerked back before falling over. Denied the ever longed for release countless times until he was left a useless mewling heap of sweaty flesh.

"Dean, you are not paying attention to me," Cas snapped, ripping him from his fantasy with a sharp smack to the cheek.

"I was thinking," Dean muttered, thinking seriously about reaching up to rub his stinging cheek, but decided against it when he saw the stern look Cas was giving him.

"About?"

"Pie, what else would I be thinking about?"

That was a bad answer, he knew it the moment the words left his mouth and Cas was certainly not picking up on the sarcasm. His pale hand that lingered under his shirt dug into his hip, causing Dean to grunt, his knees almost buckling. He wanted to collapse on the spot just to free himself from Cas' grasp, but the ex-angel's free hand shot up to grip him by the hair again and was keeping him from straying too far, lest his hair be ripped out. He could tell from that moment that the experience they were about to share would be very bad, in a very good way.

"There will be no talk of pie, Dean. Do you understand?" Cas growled, leaning down to nip at his collarbone again and when Dean nodded he could practically hear the smile in Cas' voice. "Well now that we've cleared that up, shall we take this to your room, or stay here on the couch?"

"Room," Dean barked out as Cas' hand finally released its death grip on his hip bone, only to ghost across the ever growing bulge in his jeans. A feather light touch that made him want to shove Cas down to the floor right there and just get it over with already. But then again, did he even have enough strength to shove Cas down after the man jerked him up off the couch like that?

When Cas vanished from in front of him it left Dean staggering forward, gripping the table to keep himself upright. Cas was already headed down the hall, vanishing into Dean's room without even waiting for him to follow. Because he just knew that Dean would. He was so confused and turned on at the same time that there was no way he could say no to whatever Cas told him to do at this point. All he knew was that he wanted more of whatever that feeling was and if took being Cas' bitch to get it, he was on the damn bandwagon.

He didn't care how needy he looked as he rushed down to hall after Cas, sliding into the room and closing the door. Locking it seemed pointless with the bunker being empty, but he did it anyway, freezing when he saw Cas perched on the end of his bed. He wasn't looking at Dean, his eyes locked on the wall before him and it reminded him painfully of the way Cas used to sit. Before he fell. Before his Grace was forcibly ripped from his throat and stolen. He had a frown plastered on his lips and looked almost as if he were trying to decide something. Was he making the whole thing up as he went along? The things to say, where to grab and bite? Because if this was the kind of stuff he could make up on the go, Dean was a little impressed.

"Cas?" he mumbled, inching closer to the stoic man perched on the end of his bed like a living statue. "You ok?"

"I am fine Dean." Cas looked over from the wall, his eyes focusing on him darker than before. It was as if his pupils were almost fully dilated despite the fact that the light in the room was on. He smiled softly, patting his legs. "Come here."

Dean took a shallow breath, smoothing his hands over his shirt as he moved forward cautiously. He was scared. He didn't think that whatever Cas had planned was going to hurt him, but he was nervous. More excited than nervous, but still. Sex with girls had always been predictable. He was always in control and had a say in whatever went down. Here he was literally going in blind on all accounts and it made him a little tingly on the inside. The uncertainty of what Cas would do next made his heart beat out of rhythm and his breathing catch. For the first time in a long time, he was genuinely giddy.

Standing there before him, Dean tried to figure out if Cas had wanted him to sit on his lap or just stand there. But after a moment, Cas answered for him, reaching out to run his hands up his arms and then down his stomach slowly and deliberately. When he repeated the action again, slower the second time, Dean couldn't help but tilt his head down to try and see what the hell he was doing.

"Cas-"

"I remember your body most, Dean. More than my own vessel. I healed this flesh when it was torn within an inch of itself in hell. Flayed to a point beyond recognition. Grafting you back together from the moment I gripped you in the pit. Every scar washed away by my Grace, your soul healed and welded back into your body perfectly. I made this body whole again. You probably don't remember it the way I do, but it was a life altering experience for me."

"I do remember it Cas," Dean whispered, earning a shocked look from the man seated before him. "I remember the blinding light, the warmth. Before, everything burned, tore. Ripped at you in ways you couldn't imagine. But you, it was comforting, not searing. It was...beautiful. You were beautiful that day you pulled me out of hell Cas. And I'm sorry I never got to tell you before this-I'm sorry."

Cas smirked up at him, shaking his head as his hands stilled on the waistband of his jeans. There was obviously going to be no more talk of it as Cas' hands slid up under his shirt, pushing the fabric up in a silent demand for Dean to remove the article of clothing. When he reached back to pull the shirt over his head he flinched as warm lips pressed against the flat of his stomach, the muscles tightening involuntarily. Ripping the shirt off he stared down at Cas in shock, the slighter male slowly kissing and nipping his way toward the new scars that littered his torso. Each little pinch making him hiss through his teeth, it didn't hurt, but it was an involuntary sound he couldn't help making.

"That damned demon, I wish I could have withstood the torture so that you could have punished it for marring your skin this way," Cas sighed, tracing his fingers lightly over the healed gash on his side where the demon had dug into him. "It deserved to suffer more for this."

"It's just a scar Cas, no big deal. They fade over time."

"A scar that I involuntarily inflicted. Now that I can no longer heal you, it irritates me to no end."

Dean wanted to tell him that it really didn't matter, that it was all part of being human, but there was nothing that he could say that would make him feel better about it. He was still mourning the loss of his Grace and Dean was sure he would never understand what it felt like. Instead, he lifted his hand, tracing the gash engrained in the stubble on Cas' cheek lightly, making the other man shiver unexpectedly.

"It cut into you too, you know. And if it hadn't been wearing you, I would have ripped it's throat out," he smirked, watching Cas rake his eyes over his naked torso.

"I am no longer important, Dean. You can still do more good in this world as I struggle to keep up. You were right, before. For all the things I observed, I did not observe enough."

Rolling his eyes, Dean slid his hand up into Cas' hair, tugging at it just enough to make him look up. Once he had his attention, his fingers combed through the strangely silky ebon strands and he could tell that Cas was resisting the urge to let his eyes roll closed. Enough talking, he wanted to say. Even though he valued every word that fell from those lips. You're important to me. Wings or no wings, you're still Cas. And that makes you special, to me.

Cas hooked his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him even closer so that his face was almost in his crotch. Dean's breath hitched, but he willed himself to keep stroking his fingers through Cas' hair. A silent declaration that what he was doing was perfectly fine with him. Even after all that rough hair pulling and demanding in the lobby, he could still a glint of uncertainty in those blue eyes. But despite what his eyes were telling him, Cas' hands worked with a precision he almost envied. His fingers trailed down his thighs, gripping him gently for a moment before he slid his palm up and over Dean's now half-mast erection. When he popped the button to his jeans loose Dean hoped that he wouldn't stop and talk every time a new part of his body was revealed. Next followed the zipper and before he knew it, Cas was slowly wiggling the fabric down off of his hips into a pile at his feet.

When he shuffled his weight back onto his heels to kick off his boots so that he could remove the jeans, Cas wrapped his hands around Dean's waist, digging his thumbs into his hip bones again. Jerking to a halt, he remained completely still, knowing without have to hear it that Castiel didn't want him to move an inch. It was like his mood kept switching, sweet and caring one moment and dark commanding creature the next. He seemed particularly interested in Dean's underwear, the boxer briefs now a little uncomfortable with his dick trying to break free.

"I like these undergarments. They leave little to the imagination," Cas hummed, studying his junk like a damn nature show on TV.

"They're just underwear Cas-" Dean groaned, quickly silenced by another sharp dig of Cas' thumbs into his bones. He was never going to get used to that feeling. It hurt, tickled and made him twitch excitedly all at the same time.

"I like them Dean. Leave it at that."

No speaking, no moving. Right, he got the hint. He settled for chewing nervously on his bottom lip as Cas slid his thumbs down under the elastic of his underwear, teasing lightly for a moment before he suddenly jerked them down. Dean bucked on impulse as the cool air assaulted him and instantly tried to correct his posture as if he hadn't moved at all in the first place. Cas seemed to understand that he hadn't meant it and just laughed lightly under his breath. Now that he was face to face with his dick, it seemed a little too obscene and Dean couldn't stop his eyes from clamping closed. The situation felt so wrong that it only served to excite him further, his member twitching involuntarily each time he felt Cas' breath brush over it. He had a fallen angel staring at his cock. There was no way he wasn't going back to hell for this. Not that he gave a damn, but still...

"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas asked, his words curious. Was it ok for him to speak if it was a question? Because the last thing he wanted to do was piss Cas off when they were already this close.

"W-waiting? I dunno, being still and quiet," he murmured, opting to use as soft a voice as possible just in case.

"I want you to look at me, Dean."

Of course nothing would be easy about this. He couldn't just cram his eyelids together and spare himself the sight of Castiel doing impossibly sexy things to him or vice versa. He cracked one eye open first, slowly, then the other. Cas was just staring up at him, Dean's dick looming awkwardly right in front of his nose. This was strange and weird and now, now he wasn't sure if he should let Cas go through with it or not. Oh how he wanted it, but it felt like he was defiling Cas in some way. Not that he had any say in the matter. As soon as their eyes locked, Cas leaned forward giving him a tentative lick and it took everything Dean had not to screw his eyes shut again at the sensation. Even if he could look away, the way Cas was staring up at him as he slowly wrapped his lips around his cock, Dean was entirely captivated. He wouldn't look away, it would have been a sin to not witness it.

There were so many sounds he wanted to make, so many curse words that wanted to tumble from his lips as Cas slowly bobbed his head down, taking as much of Dean as he could without gagging himself. All he could do was groan helplessly as Cas stilled, holding him in his mouth without moving even his tongue. It was maddening and all Dean wanted to do was grab him by the hair and thrust into his mouth endlessly. Though it might have been considered poor conduct to face-fuck someone like that and Castiel had returned his hands to his hips, his thumbs smoothing over his hips bones as a constant reminder not to move. Dean was gulping down air like a drowning man, staring down at Cas as he slowly closed his eyes and pulled himself back off of Dean's dick. There was an a loud smack of Cas' lips as he removed himself, only to swipe his tongue along the tip again before diving back down onto him.

Keeping his hands at his sides, Dean kept balling his hands into fists and relaxing them, trying to occupy them so that he didn't reach out and grab him. He would have no doubt been punished for it and with Cas meticulously caressing his dick with his mouth, punishment was not an option. Hell he would have bent over backward if it meant this could continue forever. And just as he had commanded, every time Cas looked up at him, blue eyes darkened with a feral lust that made him shiver, Dean was staring right back down at him. Accepting all that he had to give. There was a skill and precision to his mouth that Dean hadn't had the pleasure of experiencing before and he wondered for a moment if it was because it was Castiel. The man had been a celestial being once, maybe that afforded him better fellatio techniques? Or like he had said, he had observed humans mating since the dawn of time, he knew his way around a cock.

It wasn't until Cas stopped, lips still wrapped around the head of his dick, tongue swirly around him languidly that Dean finally snapped. His knees started to buckle against his will, his back arching forward so that he was almost doubled over the man attached to his dick. His hands shot out, grabbing Cas weakly by the shoulders, fingers trembling as he tried to fight the growing feeling of ecstasy. It couldn't end like that. Cas surely didn't want this to be it, did he? It was all too much and he was so sensitive he was having a difficult time finding a word to make him stop.

"Cas-" he gasped breathlessly, noting that it had no effect on the situation at all. Cas was still dragging his tongue in slow deliberate circles around his cock, sucking lightly. "Castiel, shiiiiiit..."

The last bit came out more like a low pitched whine. Pleading and needy. And Cas finally took the hint. His mouth vanished along with his hands and Dean instantly sank to the floor, panting from the exertion of holding back his impending release.

"I also like that sound, use it more often Dean," Cas mumbled, sitting before him as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place, licking his lips as if he'd just finished a delicious meal.

"Which sound?" Dean asked quietly, huffing between breaths. He just wanted to be sure to use the right one in order to keep Cas happy. If that was what he got from a happy Cas, he was never going to piss him off again. Then again, what would an angry Cas grant him?

"My name."

"Cas?"

"No, my full name Dean. The one you used to pray to. You will use it from now on."

"Castiel." Dean nodded taking the command to heart. It was no longer Cas, just Castiel. His Castiel. For as long as he would have him.

"Yes. Again," Cas demanded, reaching out to pull Dean's chin up, planting a small kiss on his lips.

"Castiel."

With his name whispered against the fallen angel's lips, Cas growled darkly, placing a more possessive kiss on Dean's mouth. His tongue was forced through his lips and Dean found himself opening his mouth wider to accommodate him despite the fact that the tongue in question had just been on his penis. The kiss was angry, teeth nipping and low growls swallowed down by Dean as Cas reached out to wrap his arms around his chest, pulling him up onto the bed. He was finally allowed to kick off his shoes, his pants slipping off of his feet onto the floor. The only piece of clothing left on him were his underwear, still stationed uncomfortably around his thighs.

He thought that Cas would remove them, but the slighter male slowly retreated off of the bed once Dean was laying flat on his back in the mess of blankets. He was still fully clothed and Dean was sure that stripping away his clothing was to come next. But Cas just stood there, staring down at him like some kind of voyeur, watching Dean heave in breaths through his kiss swollen lips. He was starting to get nervous again, the feeling of Cas' lips on his skin was a fleeting memory that allowed anxiety to seep back in now that the pleasure had subsided.

"Close your eyes Dean. Do not open them," Cas commanded and even though he wanted to tell him to make up his damn mind, Dean complied.

His confusion only grew as he heard Cas shuffling away from the bed and the closet doors creaking open. What the hell was he going through Dean's closet for? This was certainly a piss poor time to borrow clothes and he was sure there was no kinky lingerie hidden away to force on him. All he could do was lay there, twitching in anticipation when he finally heard Cas approach the bed again by his left hand side. He'd retrieved something from the closet, Dean was just having a hard time figuring out what it could possibly be.

"Do you trust me, Dean?" Cas asked, his voice so low it sent tremors down his spine. He nodded yes instantly and when nothing but silence followed he got the hint.

"I trust you, Castiel."

"Scoot up, to the headboard."

Frowning, he didn't like where the current events were headed, but he did as he was told, shimmying up until his head nearly touched the headboard, laying on his pillows. Something silky wrapped around his wrist, tied snugly before he was suddenly tethered to the bed. Ties. Castiel had raided his closet for ties and was now tying him to the god damn bed frame. He could only whimper in uncertainty as Cas' feet shuffled around to the other side of the bed and tied his other hand. For a moment he considered jerking it back away from him, but he willed himself to stay still.

"Is that too tight?" Cas whispered, closer to his ear than he expected and he flinched.

"No, it's uh, it's fine."

"Good, now, lift your head."

He drew in a shaky breath, lifting his head as far as he could knowing what was about to happen. He owned a few different ties for many occasions he had to pose as some official. FBI, CDC, CIA, fucking weather man, hell it didn't matter. He hated them, they were constricting and fuck if he didn't love them now. The material felt cool, wrapped around his wrists and face, keeping him bound and blind. He could hear Cas moving around, feel the movement in the air, but not being able to reach out or see him was a whole new sensation. He vaguely remembered a fairly kinky girl he met in a bar once, she was faceless now, unimportant, but she had wanted to tie him up and he had respectfully declined. In his line of work, anyone could be a demon and he wasn't willingly letting some chick tie him to a bed so she could turn around and flay his skin off. But this was Castiel, fallen Angel of The Lord. There would be no flaying here, only caressing, he hoped.

When a pair of warm hands appeared on his thighs he jolted a little, gasping as he felt the material of his boxer briefs being pulled free from his body. At the very least, Cas hadn't tied his feet. Yet. He could feel the bed dip beside him and he held his breath, straining to hear what would happen next. The hairs on his arms and neck stood on end as he felt a breath blow across his stomach, warm lips pressing against him briefly before a wet tongue darted out to tickle him. Dean squirmed on the bed, biting back a laugh because, well because no matter how much it tickled this was no a laughing situation. He had a boner for crying out loud.

Cas repeated the slow licking, up and down his midsection, blowing little breaths of air onto the wet spots left in his wake. It was cold and made Dean shiver, whining and whimpering like a puppy trapped in the laundry room after doing something bad. The teasing seemed incessant, every now and again, Cas would dip down closer to his pelvis only to move right back up to tickle his belly button. He wanted to curse at the man and tell him to hurry the fuck up, but he just kept chewing on the side of his mouth until he tasted copper, fighting to be patient. Good things to those who wait and all that other bullshit.

When Cas vanished the second time, Dean groaned lowly, listening to the sound of clothing rustling around. He was finally stripping and Dean wouldn't get the chance to see it. He thought about asking for Cas to remove the blindfold at least, but that thought was quickly chased away when a warm hand appeared on his chest and a weight settled onto his hips. Without thinking he bucked up into him, trying to gain some kind of friction and was met with the not so sexy scrape of denim over his cock. So Cas had left his pants on, seemed kind of pointless to him. Unless he was going to untie him soon and let Dean remove them for him.

"Dean, tell me what you're feeling," Cas cooed, rocking his own hips down onto Dean's slowly. Even with the scratchy denim, it was bliss just to be touched.

Cracking his mouth open he tried to find the words. What sounded right in his head to describe the blissful frustration that he felt with Cas so close and still so far away. He could feel the slighter males own erection pressing down into him with every steady roll of his hips and he wondered how Cas could even stand to still be wearing pants. When he stopped mid-roll and most of his weight vanished leaving Dean thrusting up into air for the contact back, he realized he'd kept Cas waiting too long. He wanted an answer and it was obvious Dean would get nothing more until he complied.

"It's odd," he panted, thankful when Cas slowly lowered himself back onto his hips. "I want to touch you so freakin' bad, and I can't. I want to see your face. It's frustrating."

Cas ground his hips roughly into him and Dean cried out breathlessly. His descriptions trailing off in his brain as fire shot through him. A devouring, ruthless hunger he wanted to quench.

"What else?" Cas growled, leaning down so that his bare chest was now pressed against Dean's. There was such a heat to his skin that Dean thought he might be burning.

"Warm. You're warm and it seeps into my skin, feels like I'm on fire," he whimpered, jerking his hips up awkwardly. "Every little sound you make, it's driving me nuts, I can't-I just want-"

"Can't what, Dean? What do you want?"

"I want to see you, Castiel! Take this crap off!"

Cas leaned up, pressing his lips to the shell of Dean's ear and let out a soft chuckle. He was being downright sadistic at this point, it was torture! You couldn't just get a guy all worked up then just sit on his dick in jeans and leave it at that. Dean didn't care what he was doing as long as he was doing it to him, like now. Flexing his fingers he strained against his restraints, starting to feel the claustrophobia set in. Being tied up for so long, in pain or not, was wearing on him.

"Not. Yet," Cas growled and Dean instantly stopped struggling.

Cas was gone again and Dean could have screamed in frustration. All the weight and warmth gone and he was left feeling cold an neglected. He tried to flatten his feet on the bed to gain enough leverage to somehow rip himself free of the evil silky restraints, thrashing his head from side in an attempt to remove the blindfold, or at least loosen it. But Cas had been thorough. He was stuck and frustrated and angry and-

"Dean."

It was just his name, he'd heard it a million times, but the way Cas dropped his voice an octave made it vibrate through him like it had a long time ago. That thunderous tone Dean thought only belonged to the angel Castiel and not the human version. He shuddered to a stop, swallowing roughly at the demand behind the word. Cas wasn't just saying his name, he was saying 'Dean, if you do not stop your struggling now I will cease this and leave you here for Sam to find.' He was still, quiet as a mouse. He didn't dare think of what would happen if Sam walked in on him like this, tied to a bed like a kinky whore. But more importantly, he didn't want Cas to leave him.

There was a rustling in the drawer of his nightstand and Dean's heart picked up in double time. He knew exactly what Cas was going after this time. There were only two things in his nightstand. Ok well, like three. A scandalous magazine, a bottle of whiskey for rainy days...and lube. Maybe condoms? He couldn't really remember in his present state. Now that he thought about it, there may have been bullets in there too. God he hoped Cas wasn't after bullets. Bondage he could deal with if it had a pleasant outcome, but he would not tolerate strange objects being forced into him. Especially not ammunition. Feeling the weight return to the bed, this time wiggling it's way between his knees and forcing his legs open, Dean kept drawing in slow silent breaths through his nose until he heard the familiar sound of a cap popping open. Good, no bullets.

"Now, I trust you will behave Dean. I like having you restrained like this, but I do not wish to hurt you," Cas sighed, a warm hand brushing over his cock slowly.

"I'm behavin' Cas, I swear." Dean's voice morphed into a strangled yelp as Cas gripped the base of his dick a little to hard, squeezing relentlessly. He wasn't sure at first what he had done wrong. "Shit, sorry, Castiel. I'm behaving, Castiel," he amended and the painful pressure subsided, replaced with a slow lazy stroke instead.

"That's better. Thank you Dean."

"Y-you're welcome..."

Dean kept himself focused on the lazy strokes he was rewarded with, his eyes screwing shut behind the blindfold. The damn thing wasn't really necessary, but he didn't complain verbally. It wasn't until a cool finger pressed against his opening that he made a single sound, a low groan of frustration that made Cas laugh. A short barking sound that was almost mocking and Dean could have cried. If men cried, that was. Well, he'd cried a few times, but that wasn't the point. He found himself rolling his hips down slightly, trying to get closer to the slick finger only to have it moved away. Just lay still and take it, that was what he was supposed to do. And as soon as he stilled his hips he was rewarded with a less than comfortable intrusion.

It stung, not unbearable, but it wasn't the intoxicating pleasure he thought it would be. Hell, he didn't know what to expect. Before Cas it had been a no fly zone. And as far as he was concerned it would stay a no fly zone for anyone other than Cas. So far it wasn't something he was dying to experience again, the only thing making it tolerable was the feel of Cas' other hand still working up and down his shaft slowly. He found himself grunting in discomfort and as soon as he finally got used to the sensation, Cas started to move. Hissing lightly he jerked away from the probing finger, but Cas wasn't letting him get away. Thankfully he wasn't as forceful as he had been when he was jerking at his hair or digging into his hip bones, the motion of his finger slow and careful. At least he hadn't gone completely off the deep end.

"Are you alright?" Cas asked softly, a tenderness in his voice that Dean wasn't sure fit with the situation.

"I'm great," Dean huffed, trying not to grit his teeth as he felt another slick digit join the first and now it was just getting painful.

"You do not have to lie to me, Dean. If you don't find this pleasurable we should stop."

He hesitated for a moment, did he want to stop? Sure it was uncomfortable and a tad bit painful, but it was Cas. And even though he had suggested stopping, the son of a bitch still kept moving. His fingers curling in a such a way that made Dean groan internally. He couldn't even form a response before the slick fingers brushed against him in such a way that a jolt of pleasure shot through him. His back arched up off the bed, Cas stopping his attack as he no doubt wondered what the hell was wrong with him. Now more than ever, he wished he could see, just to stare down at Cas and convey his sense of what the fuck without actually having to speak it. There just weren't words... But he wasn't allowed the luxury of sight and Cas was apparently entertained by his sudden reaction. He curled his fingers again and Dean gasped loudly, flopping onto the bed like a fish.

"I take it that is better?" Cas asked, his fingers pressing against the sensitive little spot ruthlessly.

"Cas-!" he gasped, nails digging into his palms, probably hard enough to draw blood. "Castiel, what the hell?"

"Are you really so unfamiliar with your own body Dean? I know it like the back of my hand, exactly where every sweet spot is. Now I will ask you again," Cas chuckled, rubbing his fingers in slow deliberate circles and Dean actually squealed a little. And it finally hit him, prostate. "Are you alright? Or should I stop?"

"Yes!" he panted, trying to roll his hips onto Cas' hand when he suddenly started to pull back.

"Yes, stop?"

"No, don't stop. Yes I'm alright!"

"You enjoyed it then?"

"Castiel, I swear if you don't stop fucking with me-"

Cas thrust his fingers back against the spot and Dean choked on his words, warm heat flashing through him, burning. He never wanted the feeling to go away and he was sure he would never feel anything quite like it again. A feeling that would always be synonymous with Castiel. He was being more forceful now and Dean didn't even care. He couldn't even form a coherent complaint when he felt himself being stretched even further by a third finger. There wasn't even pain to register anymore, just hot flashes of pleasure every time Cas would thrust his fingers in, just to drag them back out across his prostate. Removing his other hand from Dean's dick, using it as leverage to move farther up on the bed, the mattress dipping next to Dean's stomach.

"I thought that was the entire point of intercourse. So that I could fuck with you, Dean," he purred against his skin, leaving wet kisses behind again as he continued to attack Dean. Now the motions were more teasing, just lightly brushing so that he could no longer get a full taste of the searing pleasure.

"Then get on with it! Cas, I can't-" he growled, bucking against the restraints again. The teasing was driving him crazy. "Please, Castiel, please..."

The fingers quickly vanished and Dean found himself sobbing at the loss. Cas slid off the side of the bed and when he felt his hands tugging at the tie around his head he almost thanked God, until he remembered God hadn't been around for a long time. When the light assaulted his eyes he had to blink several times for Cas' face to come into focus. He was standing over Dean, shirtless and smirking. A smug look that made Dean want to call him a bitch for, but he was just too glad to finally see him. Cas was flushed, his cheeks rosy and his lips wet from where he kept continuously licking at them. When he reached his long fingers down to undo the button on his jeans, Dean could see that he was just as aroused. When the jeans slipped down from his slender hips, there were no boxers to keep him contained. He wondered how many times Cas went around without underwear on.

"Since you've behaved so well, I should at least reward you with your sight," he laughed, climbing back onto the bed.

"Yeah because I would have been pissed if I didn't get to see that you walk around the bunker without underwear on. I'll have that stuck in my head forever now, kinky bastard."

"I was only afforded so much clothing, Dean. It's laundry day."

Dean couldn't tell if he was joking or being serious anymore, watching him intently as he slowly slid back between his legs. He seemed very serious as he relocated the bottle of lube that was lost in the covers and slicked himself up, but the smirk on his face told Dean otherwise. Now Dean as faced with an entirely new problem. If Cas' fingers hadn't been pleasant to start, his dick sure as hell wouldn't be any better. For a little nerdy guy who used to have wings, he was fairly well endowed. He would just have to focus on the pleasure he knew would surely come once he'd gotten used to it. Still, he wished he had his hands so that he could hang onto something. So that he could hang onto Cas.

Lining himself up with Dean's entrance, Cas lifted his eyes to his face and the smug look was gone. He was hungry again, lustful in a way he never knew Cas could be. A pale hand reaching up so that he could brush his palm against Dean's cheek and he knew that Cas was asking permission. After the big show that he put on, acting so dominant, he still wanted Dean's approval. He could only nod, nuzzling into Cas' hand as he tried to roll his hips down onto him. There was no turning back, they were in this together now. The memory of the fiery pleasure wracking his body making him impatient. The sooner Cas was inside of him the better.

The first movement was small, Cas pushing forward into him so slightly that Dean almost smiled at the tenderness of it. Dean let his hands relax, no longer straining against the ties in an attempt to keep his body relaxed. Tensing up now wouldn't do either of them any good. When Cas pressed into him a second time he could tell it was going to be hard to stay relaxed, the burning returned as he was stretched farther than with his fingers. He couldn't tell how far he'd gotten, his eyes clamping shut as he held back a hiss of pain. Cas stilled for only a moment as Dean tried to push himself down even farther and took the hint that he just needed to get it over with as soon as possible so that Dean could adjust. His hand vanished from Dean's cheek, warm fingers wrapping gently around his hips as he thrust himself in as far as he could go. A shaky moan escaped Cas' lips and the room fell silent.

There was nothing in the room but silence. All Dean could comprehend was the feeling of Cas inside of him, warm and pulsing, and he felt content for the first time in a long time. Cas was completely still, waiting patiently for Dean to respond in one way or another. While he had no intention of saying it, Dean wondered if Cas would stop if he told him to get off of him. It took him longer than he liked to force his eyes open again, half lidded and hazy, staring up at Cas who looked like he was having a hard time keeping his own eyes open. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight, he'd been so tough moments ago and now he looked like a little virgin about to lose his shit. It was totally Cas. Innocent little baby in a trench coat one moment to scary smiting motherfucker the next.

"Dean," he breathed, his fingers caressing his hips gently, almost as if he were petting him. "Dean is this alright?"

"No," he sighed, watching Cas' expression suddenly drop in fear. "This is great. It's awesome, but..."

"But, what, Dean?" he groaned, rolling his eyes to at least appear annoyed despite the fact that he was obviously thankful Dean didn't hate it.

"It would be better of you'd fucking move already."

The cocky smirk he missed returned to Castiel's lips, fingers gripping him tightly as he held Dean still and pulled himself back. A shudder tore through Dean as Cas brushed over his prostate lightly, stopping short of pulling himself completely out and rolled his hips forward again. It was slow and agonizingly sweet. Cas was giving him time to adjust and he was silently thankful for it. It was easy to hear that he was holding back, nails digging into his flesh with every slow thrust, groaning in that low tone that made him shiver. He was getting impatient. And now that it didn't burn to hell and back, so was Dean. He wanted more than light touches and careful thrusts. He wanted Cas to give him that consuming pleasure and never stop.

"For someone who's dreamed about doing this forever, you're sure taking your sweet time," he chuckled, trying his best to keep the breathiness out of his voice. "Don't tell me this is all you've got, Castiel."

Cas stopped mid thrust and Dean wondered if taunting him was the best idea given their current position. He was still tied to the bed frame, unable to do much of anything. Cas could have simply pulled out of him and left the room. The look he was giving Dean told him that he probably should have just keep his mouth shut and let Cas take his sweet time. He leaned down over Dean, pressing his lips against his collar bone for a moment before he bit down harshly. A silent scream formed on Dean's lips, his hips bucking in an attempt to find friction somewhere. Once Cas released his tender skin, he licked at the bruise that would no doubt bloom and moved to a new spot and bit down again, thrusting himself forward roughly and Dean gasped loudly.

"Impatient as always, Dean. I wanted to give you a moment to fully adjust before I had my way with you, but it appears you're a bit of a masochist..." Cas growled, blowing cool air over his bite marks. "I suppose I should just get on with it, right?"

Dean could only nod feverishly, whining as Cas continued to litter his neck with sharp bites that sent shudders down his spine right into his groin. He didn't even care if Cas was leaving marks, if there were nasty bruises or blood left in his wake. All he cared about was the sweet friction of Cas moving within him, powerful snaps of his hips against Dean's and the sound it forced from his lover's mouth. Every growl and groan Cas let out made Dean twitch excitedly. He was causing those sounds, sounds of pure unfiltered lust falling from the lips of a being that was once pure. He had created this sin and no matter how damned he might be for it, he was proud. He wanted to burn a record of it and keep it all to himself. No one other than him could ever be allowed to hear it.

When Cas stopped and pulled himself from his body, Dean whimpered loudly, fighting his restraints again so that he could try to force himself back onto Cas' dick and stay there forever. He searched Cas' face for an answer to the question he knew was written all over his face. Why did you stop? Please don't stop Cas, please. I need more. Not want, no it wasn't want that drove Dean anymore. It was need. A need to hold onto Cas and never let him go. He'd lost the angel so many times that now, he knew he wouldn't survive if it happened again. Maybe because in the past, he knew that Cas would return to him and now that he is painfully human, if he died there would be no resurrection. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes and he cursed himself for the sudden display of emotions. Before the dreams of blissful rough sex, there had been nightmares. Cas bloody and broken in his arms, eyes dull and vacant. Void of life.

"Cas-" he sobbed, his head falling back onto the pillows as the tears broke free and Cas was there, kissing them away lightly.

"It's all right Dean, I'm here. I'm not leaving you, not ever."

The fallen angel's fingers rush over his wrists, freeing his hands from the restraints and Dean instantly wrapped his arms around Cas' shoulders, crushing their lips together. Cas went rigid for a moment, no doubt shocked at the eagerness behind Dean's advance, but he quickly tilted his head and swiped his tongue over Dean's lips. Once he was allowed entrance into Dean's mouth he sighed happily, lapping at his tongue tenderly. He could feel Cas run his hands along his sides, down his thighs to hook under his knees and Dean lifted his hips without even thinking about it, wrapping his legs around Cas' waist. When he entered him for the second time all Dean could do was throw his head back, gasping loudly as he hit the pillows. His hands stayed latched around the back of Cas' neck, tangling in his short hair, causing him to hiss slightly when Dean accidentally pulled too hard.

"S-sorry," Dean sighed, moving his hands down so that they rested on his pale shoulders instead.

Cas didn't seem to mind very much though, just shaking his head and grinning as he braced himself on either side of Dean's chest and continued his assault. With Dean keeping his legs latched around Cas' waist, he didn't have to worry about keeping him in position and it allowed him to quicken his pace exponentially. Every powerful thrust rocking Dean to his core, the bed even screeching in protest as the headboard banged noisily against the wall. There was no time to be embarrassed as the two men filled the room with gasps, moans, and the lewd sound of their bodies clashing together. And maybe they sounded like dirty animals just fucking for fucks sake, but Dean knew that there was more to it than that. The way Cas kept his eyes on Dean's the entire time, how he kept caressing the slighter man's shoulders despite the harsh thrusts wracking his body. It looked and sounded primal, but there was love in every touch, every movement. Passion that only Cas could inspire rushing through them and Dean never wanted it to stop.

So when Cas stilled himself, grunting almost painful and pulled out of Dean, he couldn't help but tighten his legs, trying to pull him back in. Cas moved his hands down to Dean's legs, ripping them off of his body and for a moment he was a little hurt by the harshness of the action. He lay there, panting beneath Cas with a look of sheer pain on his face until Cas grinned. It was almost evil, the way he bared his teeth, his eyes dark and heavy. Maybe he had something else in mind, maybe he was going to tie him up again, or gag him, Dean wasn't sure. He grabbed Dean by the hips, rolling him forcefully onto his stomach with that same inhuman strength that baffled him and leaned over his body to plant a sweet kiss in between his shoulder blades. Tracing the shape of his bones intently with his mouth and Dean thought about asking him what he was doing.

"I often thought of what you might look like with wings, Dean," Cas murmured, his cock rubbing against Dean's ass in such a way that made him lift his hips to beacon him closer.

"I would have made a shitty angel and you know it Cas," he laughed, forcing the sound to try and not appear desperate as he rolled his hips into the mattress to gain friction when Cas refused to enter him again.

"I know, but I was curious. Now, I understand that if you had wings, you wouldn't be Dean. I want you just the way you are. Don't ever change."

It brought back a painful memory of when Dean had been hurled into the future, seeing what a life without heaven had done to his dear friend. He vowed to never let Cas turn into that sad creature from the future, seeking out whatever means of pleasure he could find just to pass the time until he died. He didn't care what it took, he would find a way to restore Castiel's Grace. Even if it meant losing the new connection they now shared, Dean would give it up to ensure he never suffered that fate.

"I don't plan on it..." he mumbled, trying to keep himself together.

Cas sat up between his legs, grabbing his hips harshly and jerked him up so that his ass was in the air. Dean couldn't help but groan, twisting his fingers into the sheets beneath him as he felt Cas press against him again. He propped himself up on his elbows to try and gain better leverage for what he hoped was to come. Cas' iron grip on Dean's hips kept him from pushing back onto him, entering painfully slow. It was so wonderfully torturous that Dean wanted to cry out in desperation. He'd had a taste of bliss and the sweet gesture just wasn't enough in his current condition. And it didn't take Cas long to answer the ache.

Without even pausing, he pulled himself back and thrust back into Dean roughly, causing him to cry out in shock. The new angle they were in had the tip of Cas' cock ramming directly into his prostate and he literally did see stars for a moment. White splotches that faded his vision for a second until the pressure subsided as Cas pulled back out again. He repeated the action several times, each slam into his body making Dean's voice break a little more until he was uttering words even he didn't understand. Incoherent mumblings of curses and praises all in Castiel's name.

"Dean," Cas growled, words he didn't understand following his name. For a moment it almost sound like Enochian, but he couldn't think properly enough to try and comprehend it.

Before he could even respond, Cas' warm hand snaked around his body, gripping his dick tightly and Dean bucked into his hand instantly. It was too much and Dean's arms faltered, sending him sprawling face first into the sheets as his body twitched and writhed with a sensation he thought would eventually be the death of him. Nothing on earth could possibly feel that damn good and not kill you. Cas' hips worked in rhythm with his hand and it made Dean shudder, pressing back into Cas as much as he could. The burning heat had settled into his gut and the pressure was near unbearable. He knew that he should probably ask for permission, but the only word that tumbled from his lips was a name. Hopefully, he would understand.

"Cas," he panted, nails digging into the sheets. "Cas!"

There were no more words between them. Only sounds, passionate, needy, grateful sounds. Cas never stopped moving, even when Dean's body went rigid of it's own accord, his orgasm ripping through him like a hot knife before he spilled out over Cas' hand and the sheets. He couldn't tell up from down, his body clenching around Cas in such a way that even the fallen angel faltered, hips bucking sporadically before he twitched violently and warmth spread through Dean in a way he never thought it could. Cas grunted something else, maybe more Enochian, he wasn't sure, still thrusting into him lazily as he tried to hang onto every shred of bliss he possibly could before it vanished. Time vanished and all that was left was Dean sinking into a darkness that was comforting instead of terrifying. Cas was with him and for the first time in weeks, Dean could finally fall into a peaceful sleep without the aid of alcohol. Screw the AA meetings, sex with Cas was the answer.

When Dean was finally able to feel his consciousness seeping back in, the room was still quiet. There was something cool swiping all over his skin and when he forced his eyes open he was thankful the room was dim. The lamp on his nightstand was on, covered haphazardly by what looked like a towel. And then there was Castiel. He was leaning over Dean, still naked, something in his hand that he kept brushing over Dean's skin and he realized that Cas was cleaning him. Whether or not he knew Dean was awake didn't occur to him as he lay there, watching the look of concentration plastered on Cas' face. He was being loving, careful as he lifted Dean's arms, dragging the cool rag over every patch of skin he could reach without jostling him too much. When had he rolled onto his back?

"Good morning, Dean," Cas whispered and he frowned, knowing his time of quiet observation was over.

"Morning? How long was I out?"

Cas shrugged, reaching down to swipe away the mess that had settled between his legs and Dean had to resist the urge to squeal and scoot away. His body was heavy and sore, bite marks among other things throbbing with a dull ache he couldn't really complain about.

"Twenty, thirty minutes? It hasn't been long...," he muttered, a small satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"That it?" He felt like he'd been asleep for fucking days. Groggy and stiff, like the many road trips he'd taken without stopping just to get to a job, only to fall out of the Impala half dead before crawling into bed. "I'm sorry."

"For what, Dean?"

"Passing out on you."

Cas chuckled, tossing his rag to a distant part of the room Dean hoped was the clothes hamper and leaned over his chest to smile at him. It was a look of adoration and Dean knew that Cas wasn't really angry with him. His pale hand reached up, swiping his thumb over Dean's lips and he hummed in approval before Cas leaned down to kiss him softly. Managing to make his arms work, Dean snaked a hand up to grab Cas by the back of the neck, holding him against his lips so that couldn't move away. They were loving, small little pecks of affection that made Dean want to giggle like a little schoolgirl with a crush. And when Cas finally pulled away he shimmied down in the bed, curling into Dean's side as he pulled the blankets up over their naked bodies. Of course, he'd be one to cuddle.

Dean just smirked, wrapping his arm around Cas' shoulder and held him close, trying to absorb whatever heat Cas was giving off. He could feel sleep tugging at his mind again, his body demanding some kind of relief after the gauntlet it had just been put through and while he wanted to give in, he had questions. Really just one, nagging at him now that he could remember it clearly, his mind no longer clouded with lust.

"Cas," Dean grumbled, trying to sound out the words he thought he'd heard in his head. "What did you say?"

Cas tilted his head up to glance at Dean, confusion painted over his face as usual. And in that moment he was the old Castiel again. "I haven't said anything, Dean."

"No, no, before. At the end, when you said my name," he clarified, praying he hadn't imagined it. "There was something else. What was it?"

"Oh, that..."

Cas tucked his head down, nuzzling into Dean's chest as if he were embarrassed to say. It couldn't have been bad, nothing that came from their recent experience could ever be bad. Dean loved every second of it and he was going to cherish it for years to come. He nudged Cas lightly, urging him to speak and when the ex-angel opened his mouth Dean was sure his heart had stopped.

"Enochian. It means, beloved."

"Beloved, huh?" he coughed, willing his eyes not to tear up again.

"Yes Dean. You are my most beloved person. No one will ever be able to replace you."

Dean smiled softly, leaning down to press his lips into Cas' messy hair, breathing in the scent he was sure he had never noticed before. Cas smelled like the air after a heavy rain. Earthy and rich and heady, something he would roll the windows down in the Impala just to breath in deep. Readjusting his body slowly, Dean turned and wrapped both arms around Cas' shoulders, pulling him as far into his chest as their bones would allow.

"You're too damn perfect, you know that?" Dean forcibly chuckled, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. "Don't ever change, you hear me? I love this, I love you. Castiel. Just the way you are."

"I don't plan on it..."

Dean was trying very hard not to be pissed when faced with the current picture before him. Cas was seated on the couch, reading a book like he had never moved in the two days Sam and Kevin had been away. The truth was, he'd been naked only moments before when they heard the Impala roaring up the road. They hadn't left Dean's bed aside from meals and showers. But what made him angry, was Sam. The freakin' Moose was standing before him, visibly more tan than he had been when he left, a bag slung over his shoulder from what looked like a brewery tour. No wounds, no nothing. Even Kevin's skin was a little less translucent and he wore a smug smile as he waved and tore of into his room with the same tote bag Sam was carrying.

"What do you mean, there was no job?" Dean hissed, propping his hands on his hips like a pissed off woman. "Where the hell have you been for two days?"

"Out, we went bar hopping. And to a brewery tour," Sam shrugged, dropping his bag on the floor at his feet. "Look, tell me you guys worked this whole thing out while we were gone. It was getting a little crowded in here with all the sexual tension flying around."

Dean could have collapsed right there on the floor, Cas raising his book to block more of his face as he turned the pages noisily. So Sam did know. Of course, how could he not know? Sam was the fucking master of seeing right through Dean, so why wouldn't he realize that Dean was nearly eye-fucking Castiel every time the man walked past. There was no point in even being angry anymore. No point in even pretending.

"You know what, forget it. Did you get the damn furniture at least?" Dean snapped, pulling his arms up to cross them over his chest in an attempt to look more manly. As if he just knew Sam could see he had spent the better part of two days having his brains fucked out by a strangely kinky ex-angel.

"About that-"

"Sam! It was one of the fucking conditions, man! You take Baby, I get the furniture. And the clothes!"

"Yeah well we got the clothes. We did. But I figured if this was any better by the time we got back," Sam pointed his finger between him and Cas slowly. "He could just stay in your room instead of needing a whole bedroom suit of his own. That's a lot of furniture to be carrying down these steps, Dean."

Dean jabbed his finger at his brother, scowling as he contemplated a well placed bullet wound intended to maim instead of kill.

"Fuck you, Sam," he growled, marching off toward his room to make space for Cas' new clothes.

"Glad to know you two worked it out!"

"Shut your bitch face, Sam! I swear to God..."

As soon as Dean closed himself up in his room, Sam slowly turned to look at Cas who was now peering over the top of his book at the younger brother, his cheeks blazing red.

"Those books worked?" Sam asked, hitching his eyebrows up.

Cas went back to reading his book, refusing to even make eye contact with Sam as he spoke for the first time since they'd gotten home.

"Like a charm."