Dean lowered his eyes from Cas' gaze. It gave him the creeps when he looked into his soul like that. He was almost ashamed of what Cas most likely saw.
Almost.
"Dean? Dean, what are you thinking?" Dean raised his eyes up, looking deeply into his blue eyes.
What was he thinking?
"About my 'cleansing' after I got outta hell." Castiel looked at him with that curious, innocent look.
"I don't think I understand." Dean shook his head.
"When you pulled me out. I got clean, physically. The handprint stayed, but now it's gone. I got all my cuts and scrapes back. Hell, I even re-lost my virginity,' This caused a startled look to cross Castiel's face, 'but the one thing I don't have? That handprint." Dean swallowed heavily. He realised what that sounded like.
Gay.
"Dean. Why is the handprint important?" He looked across to Cas. The angel that raised him from Perdition. His thoughts were all jumbled. He wasn't thinking straight. He wasn't, but he had to say it.
"I want the handprint back."
Castiel looked confused, then concerned.
"Dean, putting it there was no easy task. The mark was made of trust. I had to coax you into letting me take you. I don't know if I can do it again." Dean frowned. He remembered that.
A soft kiss, amongst the chaos of Hell.
That was all it took.
Kisses seemed to be the lock for angels and demons. Somehow, Dean would rather a kiss from Cas than any other angel. Even Anna.
Cas' lips were parted in thought.
Dean couldn't help himself. He needed that print. Needed it to prove…what? That Cas was his? No problem, everyone knew.
A thought startled him.
He wanted it because he wanted Cas to know Dean was his. Nobody else's.
"Cas. Please." Castiel looked at Dean, and saw the raw determination and lust.
Castiel understood.
A soft kiss, amongst the blankets of the hotel.
His arm burned white-hot, and Castiel's lips stopped him from screaming. His free hand wandered Dean's body, touched skin and leather. His lips graced Dean's lips, his jaw, his neck, his collarbone. His hand had seared deep, and healed almost instantly. Both hands slid under Dean's shirt. A small gasp of pain and pleasure escaped his lips. Cas growled, hungry for Dean.
A soft kiss, underneath the stars.
Dean took in his surroundings. Cas had flown them to the edge of a harbour. A small, grassy hill overlooking the water in the bay.
Castiel's eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Dean looked into those eyes, and saw his lust reflected back at him.
"I've taught you well, Cas."
A soft kiss, symbolising first love.