Dean opens the door and walks into the motel room, discarding the bag of groceries onto the floor. He becomes aware of the moans coming from the television and turns to see the screen.
"Cas, with the porn again? Seriously?"
Cas, crouched uncomfortably on one of the room's double beds, looks up at Dean, whose gaze has shifted to Sam.
"And you? You're okay with this?"
Sam is engrossed in a book and just shrugs. Dean sighs and looks back at Cas.
"I wanted to see if my reaction would differ now that I'm human," the man explains, and turns the television off, but Dean makes one of his 'sceptical but aroused' faces and sighs again.
Without any real warning whatsoever, he reaches out for Cas and kisses him feverishly. Although it takes Cas a moment to fully register what is happening, he surprises Dean by kissing him back. He pushes himself up off the bed so as to stand closer, and before long there is no distance to be spoken of between them. Slowly but surely, their armour is thrown to the floor.
Not until the pair is laying atop the bed, pressed against each other and clad only in underwear, does Sam say a word.
"You're not seriously going to-"
Dean ignores him, so Sam simply chuckles to himself, grabs his book, and goes to sit on the bathroom floor.
"Of course you are," he murmurs.
An hour later Sam emerges, stopping as he steps out of the bathroom to listen. At first he hears nothing, but soon he realises that Cas is whispering, although he cannot make out his words. He tenderly opens the door out of the room and walks outside.
Hands still running through Cas' hair, Dean listened intently as Cas went on about various things. At the moment, Dean wasn't particularly concerned with whatever he was saying; rather, he craved the sound of Cas' voice. Actually, he craved a lot more than that, even after nearly an hour of 'rigourous interpersonal activity.'
It hit him that Cas was beautiful. He knew it wasn't exactly 'normal' for men to see other men that way, but if someone had insulted that opinion, they likely would have said it was gay, which was, whichever way one took it, a surprisingly accurate description. Besides, his interest in Cas was not the least bit platonic, no matter what he would have had people think.
An aching rises in his heart again, and he knows it all too well. He doesn't realise it, but a tear slides down his cheek. Cas' giddy expression switches to worry and he stops talking. His hand wraps around the nape of Dean's neck.
"What is it, Dean?"
Dean looks into Cas' eyes again, and the ache worsens.
Nope. Not saying it.
He buries his face into a pillow.
"Dean?"
Now Cas' voice is soft, soothing. Dean grinds his teeth, praying that he doesn't break. He wears down after a couple minutes, however, and raises his head slowly to see Cas still looking at him in concern. Immediately he fears that he's becoming weak all around, but Cas' heartbeat, in time with his, convinces him that there are some things worth the trouble they cause.
He can feel himself blush. Dammit Dean, stop being such a little bitch!
He clears his throat and chokes it out. "I love you, Cas."