Snowed In

"They followed this elephant for sixty four years. Remarkable." Dean turned from the window where he had been leaning, his thoughts silenced as if blanketed by the heavily falling snow, "what?"

"Where's Sam?" Cas turned and faced Dean from where he had been sitting in the glow of the fuzzy television screen.

"I don't know. He hasn't called and the snow just keeps piling up."

"Hm." Cas pondered this. Dean watched his face, how he retreated inside himself for answers. The brilliance in his eyes would face a little bit, become unfocused and usually shift to a low point in the room. His eyebrows would furrow together, but not in an angry or frustrated way, like when Dean made a "human" joke or openly disobeyed his wishes, but in an endearing way that always fascinated Dean. He wondered how deep Cas went, on the inside, in all his knowledge and experience.

Brrring. "Sammy?"

"Dean-"

"Sammy where the heck have you been?"

"I'm sorry-"

"It's snowing like Armageddon here and-"

"Dean, I know. I had to stop on the trail and get a room. It's been snowing like crazy here all afternoon. The Impala-"

"What's happened to my baby? Sammy, she better be okay."

Sam sighed, "she's fine, Dean, just temporarily in a snow...bank."

"Sammy," Dean sighed with deep pressure being lifted, "you're getting her out of that snowbank, right?"

"Yes, I am. Tomorrow."

"Okay." Dean paused, listening to Sam's breathing in the receiver, "glad you're alright."

"You and Cas okay?"

"Yeah," Dean met Cas' questioning gaze, "Cas and I will be fine until tomorrow. Just take care of-"

"I know, I know," and he hung up.

"That was Sammy."

Cas waited.

"He's okay, had to stop because of this crazy ass snow."

"Good."

"Yeah, so, we're kind of stuck here tonight, I guess." Dean smiled tightly and took a swig of beer. "Unless you're going to zap off some place warmer and sandier."

"No, I think I'll stay here." And Cas turned back to the bluish glow of the television from his perch on the coffee table.

"All right." Dean flopped himself onto the couch. "Didn't anyone tell you its bad for your eyes to sit that close?"

"No."

"Well, that's what they say."

"Who says?"

"You know, them."

"Who is, them?"

"I don't know, Cas, just come sit on the couch." Cas studied his face which made Dean shift his position from his stretched out slouch to an upright one on his side of the small couch. Cas stepped lightly over the coffee table and perched a few inches from Dean.

"Yes, I suppose this is better."

"So, what's on?"

"It seems to be an in-depth story on the life of one elephant in Africa."

"Fascinating."

"It has been, occasionally."

Dean laughed softly to himself and watched Cas become engrossed in some lame documentary. His attention wandered eventually from Cas' perfectly still face to the snow driving past the window. The wind whistled softy through a small fireplace off to the side. It was a fairly small cabin, but had a strong old heater by the door that was proudly pumping out heat. A warm orange glow shone through its grate. The kitchen had basic essentials: a tiny stove stacked next to a counter and a steel sink; on the same wall a fridge hummed and leaked water onto the wood floor, causing it to stain black; a bakelite toaster sat on the counter, its cloth chord plugged into the wall behind it. Besides the old appliances, the cabin was alright. The rug beneath their feet was soft and woven with a lot of pleasing colors, the curtains were a cheerful yellow and in front of the fireplace a red overstuffed arm chair rested on powerful lion claws.

"Hey, how about a fire?" Cas turned around with alacrity. "In the fireplace," Dean pointed.

"Oh. That would be fine."

"Alright." Dean smiled, set his empty beer down and investigated the wood box. Cas watched him curiously, wondering what had compelled him to make a fire.

"Awesome, there's a ton of wood here!"

"Dean, would you mind of I watched?" Dean turned around with a bundle of logs and stick in his arms.

"Don't you know how fire is made?"

"Of course I do, Dean," Cas smirked but then said seriously, "I have just never watched someone build one inside a cabin."

"Well, it's simple really. You just need some big logs and some kindling and a fire starter." Dean dumped his load before the fireplace and moved the grate out of the way. Cas perched on top of the arm chair, studying the whole process.

"What kind of fire starter?"

Dean set up the large logs in a pyramid shape, "like paper, or pine needles. If there are birch trees around, birch bark makes awesome fire starter." Then Dean set up the little sticks in the spaces between the logs, "hey, hand me that paper, would ya?" Cas softly leaped off the chair and handed Dean the paper from the coffee table and resuming his perch. Dean crumpled it up in long pieces and stuck them in the pyramid. He dug into his pocket and took out his Zippo, flipped it open with his thumb and "watch this," with a confident grin. He lit the newspaper and watched the fire eat it up hungrily, then lap up the logs in big red waves. Cas was mesmerized.

"That'll be a good little fire," Dean said as the fire grew to life. "It's really warm in here now," and Dean started to unbutton his long sleeved shirt. He slung it on the armchair and leaned back before the fire in his olive green long underwear. Its top two buttons were unbuttoned. Cas caught himself watching the way his arm muscles tightened as he leaned back on his elbows and straightened out his legs, clunking his big boots on the hearth. Cas took off his trench-coat and carefully laid it next to Dean's shirt.

"Getting comfortable?" Dean looked up at him, a playful smile lingered in his golden-green eyes. Cas cocked his head, the corners of his deep blue eyes wrinkled, "yes."

"Good." Dean looked back to the fire. Cas watched his face peacefully render itself to the smooth movements of the fire as it lapped up and down, flicking back and forth. His features were striking in the shapely light, his stern cheekbones framed by a strong stubble shadow, his jawline long and relaxed, yet firm enough to handle any pressure. Even his ears were perfectly aligned and curved into a nice medium lobe. His hair was tousled from the strong wind and freezing ice, and him running his hands through it every time he worried out loud about Sam's qualities of always being late and in his car and running off to things without him. Cas silently slipped down to the seat and then onto the soft floor rug. He also set his feet on the heart, leaned back and watched the fire.

Dean watched Cas slink down next to him through his peripherals, his heartbeat pulsed, his mouth was suddenly dry. He thought that maybe he should grab another beer but he didn't want to move. He watched him sideways, afraid that he could hear his shallow breathing he was so close, he could almost feel him, the buzz of Cas' sensitive electricity tickled him, with one movement he could be next to him and running his hand over his tactile shirt or in his messy brown hair or over his dark stubbled jawline.

All of these thoughts came at once, leaving Dean paralyzed to choose any of them. Cas turned his head and locked gazes with Dean. Dean stopped mid-breath, unable to deter from desire, reached his hand around the back of Cas' head and neck, softly tugged and led Cas right into his lips. Cas did not resist. Dean's eyes were closed but he thought Cas' were too because of the way he melted into him, the cavern between them closed in a second and his warmth was flowing through Dean. Cas did not open his mouth but pressed his kiss so gently and firmly Dean felt his misgivings evaporate. He kissed Cas harder, grabbed his hair and pushed him down on the rug. He was half over Cas, beckoning him with his lips to open his. He slid his hand from Cas' neck to his jaw, rubbing the stubble softly with his thumb, then down his chest and around his waist.

Cas did have his eyes open now, though before he was lost in the momentum of Dean's physical bearing. He was wondering what exactly Dean was doing, which made him stop kissing Dean back.

"What?" Dean asked as he rose away from Cas' chapped lips.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you."

"And you want that...with me?"

"No," Dean paused and smiled one of his killer grins, "I want to do more than that."

"With me?"

"With you." Dean dived back into Cas' embrace and kissed him again, this time forcing his tongue through Cas' pursed lips. Cas felt himself resign to Dean's pressure, let him run his tongue on his lips, on the roof of his mouth, on his tongue. Cas didn't mind Dean's exploring, his hyper-active brain was thinking about Dean's body all at once for the first time since he reconstructed him. He zapped Dean's shirt off and rested his hand on Dean's scar. Dean kept on kissing his neck, his jaw, soft and numerous, didactic in his method of licking and nibbling and sucking on the soft skin, all the way down to his chest. Cas just studied how this body has changed since he created it, it had become more solid, stronger, denser. His biceps were chiseled from the years of hunting, his forearms lined with sinew and crossed with dozens of scars. His hands, which were fumbling with Cas' belt and pants, were calloused and hardened on the knuckles. He was more earthly now, more flawed. Cas found this made his desire increase tenfold.

Cas finally started kissing Dean back, just as hard. Dean was sucked into his mouth, and Cas then found it interesting to lick his lips back, taste the sweat on his neck and bury his kisses in his chest.

"Cas..." Dean trailed off, lost on the sensation of Cas' perfect lips.

"What is it?" Cas leaned his head back on the ground and looked up at Dean with pink lips and his hair so messy and his eyes so very vibrant that they shone wildly.

"Um, this is really hot, but, my knees hurt," he chuckled awkwardly. "I have an idea though, we can just move the mattress from the bedroom out here?" Cas looked quizzical for a second, and then the mattress appeared beneath them.

"Wow, that's really great Cas, but I'm not a whore, can you bring some sheets too?" The mattress was made up with dark brown sheets. "Much better," Dean whispered into Cas' ear before sucking on one lobe with his lips.

"Dean, I've never-"

"Cas, it's fine, you're with me. I'm experienced enough for the both of us."

"Were you trying to take off my pants?"

"Uh, yeah...," Dean rubbed his neck, blushing.

"Can I take off your's?"

"Sure!"

Cas looked at his fly curiously for a moment, making Dean wonder if he even knew how to take pants off. Without looking away, Cas commanded, "lay down." Dean obeyed and Cas slipped on top of him. He straddled Dean and worked his button open, then slipped the jeans off and threw them to the side. Cas kept his eyes on Dean's the whole time. Dean felt his blood pulse through him and down to his dick. It was getting hard already, and Cas wasn't even naked at all.

"Cas, you have to take your clothes off too." Cas smiled at him knowingly and zapped them off. Dean was struck by how muscular he was underneath that long coat, and that his cock was fully hard already. Dean's own twitched with anticipation, he licked his lips and watched Cas strip his boxers down and off. He waited impatiently for Cas' next move, wondering if he had some ideas of his own.

Cas leaned deeply into him and met his lips and smoothly, his wet cock tip found Dean's thick shaft and rubbed, sending fire through him. Cas was in Dean's mouth wet and passionate, rubbing his dick against Dean's faster and faster. Dean took a hold of Cas' shaft with his hand and rubbed the slick tip with his thumb. Cas moaned into his mouth, and Dean took the opportunity to make Cas' mouth his tongue's triumph. Cas' body was shaking and heating up, Dean held his slender hips, "woah, Cas, you're shaking." Cas stopped rubbing into Dean's hand, "this is most exhilarating." Dean laughed, "it sure is. Why don't you let me show you something before you wildly jizz all over me."

Cas looked puzzled but obliged, letting Dean lay him down and climb on top. He kissed Cas earnestly before making his tongue swerve down to Cas' upright cock. Dean let it fill his mouth, relaxed his lips around the tip and ran his tongue around it. It had been a while since he wanted to give a guy a blow job, and the last and only one was such a lousy lay he had not wanted to do it again until now. He thought Cas tasted sweeter than anything he had licked before, and his groans and shakes were intoxicating. Dean found himself sucking faster and faster, licking up and down as Cas writhed and called his name urgently. Cas was grabbing at the sides of the mattress, his legs spread wide, pleading Dean to not stop. Dean kept going at full speed, taking it all in and running his fingers up and down Cas' spread, around his soft hole and grabbing at his firm cheeks. Cas' bucked up and down, pushing himself into Dean and moaning with every caress. At the very end Dean grabbed his cock with his hand and Cas came with Dean on his lips, "Dean...that was...amazing."

"I know buddy, I know."