Chuck was already unfolding himself out of the back seat on Sam's side of the Impala when he heard Dean's gruff voice pop in from the other side of the car. "Sorry Chuck. Not this time."

Sam talked over the car, holding the door open for the now frozen Chuck. "Why? I thought we had agreed..."

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, well, Bobby pulled up that info on the history of the property. Its too dangerous."

Chuck leaned back into the middle of the back of the Impala and crossed his arms, trying not to sound like a petulant child. "You know Dean, you shouldn't break promises like this. You might hurt somebody."

Sam didn't argue as Dean turned into his quiet mood and slammed the door shut behind, popping the lock on the trunk. "What's the deal?" Sam hissed in his brothers ear. Dean shrugged as he loaded the various weapons he thought he might need into concealed and broader pockets. Walking away from the trunk with a slam, Sam followed and continued the slight barrage. "Dean, man, you've gotta say something."

Dean turned, wiping his hand over his face. "Look, Sammy, he's been coming with us on the past couple of missions and he's got some experience now. I figured this would be the end of his jonesin' to be part of the team. But if he gets hurt because of us..."

Sam shrugged. "You can't protect Chuck. If you're carrying all this guilt for Chuck then..."

"Look, I don't wanna talk about it! Let's just go excise this house and then drop Chuck off where he'll be safe."

The words stuck in Sam's throat, mostly because he knew he was fighting an uphill battle. But he'll never be safe if he's not trained. What in the world has gotten into my brother?

It started out as a routine case. Angry spirits accelerated by the death of the older tenant and a new family moving in, pretty much kids stuff. Well, that was until a random demon decided to take initiative with the death portal left by the excising of the ghost. It seemed much stronger than the angry relative.

Chuck's head lurched back when the scream hit his ears, followed by the crunch of glass and wood.

"What the hell?"

Following Dean's throaty growl, Chuck exited the car from Dean's side and crouched low, popping open the trunk with his spare key. He grabbed a pistol that was blessed, but only enough with the two bullets left inside. Continuing his low entry point, he saw the apparition through the open window and the innocent mother and daughter huddled together under the broken china cabinet, bronzed baby booties filtering out onto the floor.

Dean was running interference while Sammy protected the bystanders. When the grey demon attacked, Chuck gritted his teeth and rose.

"Hey, ghostie!"

Turning, startled and vicious, the demon projection with gnashing teeth began to move toward the window. Still somewhat surprised by the knock back, Chuck fired his two shots through squinted eyes, leaving nothing but two neat bullet holes through the window and an injured demon shadow for the Winchester boys to vanquish.

He was still shaking when Dean ripped the front door nearly off his hinges. Sam could hear the shouting as he comforted the family and cleaned the demon presence from the room and effectively the rest of the country house.

"Are you insane? You could have hit one of the girls!"

Chuck took a deep breath in, then stood his ground. "But I didn't. You needed back-up."

Sam was on his way out with the rest of the weaponry. "It was a good, clean shot Dean. Leave Chuck alone."

Dean shook his head, focusing a glare down on Chuck. "It was careless. What was gonna be your plan if you had shot me or Sammy?"

Chuck couldn't believe his ears. "What was your plan exactly? That second one wasn't a ghost and none of your weaponry would have stood a chance, Dean."

"You're wrong. I would have thought of something."

Chuck tailed Dean to the car. "Face it, without me, you would have been up shit creek without a paddle, buddy."

Dean nearly closed the lid of the trunk on Sammy's fingers as he turned. "Don't tell me to hunt and I won't tell you how to write, prophet boy." The ride back to the rooms was met with stony silence and static since the radio stations mostly cut out this far from Billings. Dean only really said a few words to the man in the rear view mirror. "I hope you enjoyed your victory, that was your last hunt with us."

Sam tested the waters. "Dean, man..."

He turned to his brother. "No, Sammy. Even bravery shouldn't outweigh such a foolhardy act."

Sam shrugged out an apology when they finally pulled up to the motel and Chuck got out almost before the car could stop. Dean's tone was convincing enough that Sam knew he meant it. The strain of trying to keep a small band like theirs safe was getting to Dean, more than he would ever admit. It was an "I'm sorry, but we tried" shrug and Chuck just shook his head as he walked to his side of the motel.

It took him less than an hour before anger took over his indignation. Fueled by the bottle of whiskey that he had run out for, Chuck was getting fully pissed and about ready to exact some vengeance. He didn't feel like he was getting a fair shake and something Dean said gave him words to take to heart.

It really hadn't been so bad to begin. It wasn't from God and he wouldn't deny writing it himself, he would just omit unless otherwise asked. A grin split on his face. He would love Dean to try and talk his way out of this piece of beautiful fiction. He felt more guilty about taking advantage of Castiel than anything. Cas had always been a good guy and really didn't deserve what was about to happen. But, Chuck supposed, you couldn't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.

Chuck looked over his final words and felt like a kid doing his senior high school project again. The phrases were pretty hurried, but he was used to that. Before all this prophetical mess, he had been a writer and it wasn't all that hard to make fiction with such stable and outstanding characters. He just wanted Dean to take it and remember the kind of power Chuck held, which wasn't really his power. But that was one of the great things about Dean. He always took the God angle for granted.

He pounded on the door four times and found Sammy wrenching it open. He had obviously just settled down and looked a bit disoriented. He was wearing a grey shirt and black pajama bottoms.

"Whats happened?"

Chuck forced the small manuscript in his hands. "Just read, Sam."

Sam scanned the first few pages, blinking, and then looked up. "Did you receive this....have you been drinking?"

Chuck bolted past, ripping the manuscript from his hands and then plopping it down heavily on Dean's chest. His knees were slung over his motel bed and his hands had been over his eyes. Now, he was sitting up and very confused.

Chuck's nostrils flared as he backed away, dragging Sammy by the collar out of the motel room. "There ya go, Dean! Deal with that!"

Dean's chance to retort was pretty much taken from him. The weight of the manuscript made the room seem smaller and more quiet some how. He flipped through a few pages and then, swearing, got up from the bed.

"Cas! Cas, damn it! Get in here!"

Castiel crossed his arms as he landed right in front of the bathroom behind Dean. "I believe if you spoke louder, you could successfully wake every tenant of the complex. Is that your wish?"

"Read this crap." Dean pointed to the sheaf of papers he had let fall to the floor.

Castiel sounded perplexed as he flipped through a couple of pages. "These are in Chuck's handwriting. Interesting."

"Yeah, the little worm's pulling fiction now."

Castiel simply shook his head. "I suggest you calm down. What are you so angry about?"

Dean's voice was low, but angry. "The insinuation in the story..."

"Isn't completely false. Dean, I've known you for a long time and I think perhaps, regardless of what has occurred between you and Chuck, the anger does not lie there."

Dean felt like he was going off-balance. "What are you saying Cas? Are you saying that I've always had feelings for you?"

Cas begin to close in, his customary stance far closer to Dean's personal bubble than he cared for. "What I'm saying is that you are perturbed by the idea of us together, but you are more fighting yourself than the actuality."

"I thought God was against stuff like this."

Castiel blinked as his neck twisted a bit. "God does not care for sin and in many ways, you are correct. But you are forgetting that Adam was created with a hint of femininity in him as well as his masculinity. Your drive and desire to protect are not as masculine a trait as you portray. Likewise for me, portions of my angel hood are decidedly not masculine. This is not about sexuality or power. This about something you must come to terms with. As far as God is concerned, he only wished for humanity the best that it could provide for itself and I will not speak for him on the matter. I have never had the courtesy of wondering or caring as such."

"The truth is that you don't know anymore than me."

Castiel sighed. "Dean, the truth is that I care for you deeply and whatever Chuck has written, even be it fiction, must contain some grain of the truth that he has written before and since we've met."

The angel's stare was far too oppressive in the small room, but he could only back so far and Castiel could only move so far forward before Dean's knees hit the edge of the bed and he fell backward. "Don't you care what your vessel's going to think?"

Castiel had already begun to remove his coat. "My vessel trusts the decision of his Maker and the angel inside."

"This isn't right Cas."

Castiel shook his head. "Dean Winchester, I have known you to be scared. But to be frightened by this is most absurd on your part. If it helps, you may close your eyes."

"But King David...."

Castiel was working with his top button and tie now. "Would you rather have twenty wives than one encounter with an angel?"

"Is there a third option?"

"Why must you fight on everything?"

Dean tried to answer, but the force of Castiel's grip pressing against his arms and lips pressing against surprised lips did nothing but create more obstacles. As stunned as he was, Dean tried to stop it even less than he tried to stop himself from being pulled into it.

Kissing Castiel was something like a jolt from an emotional battery. Had Dean realized the kind of fumes he had been running on, he would have taken a damn vacation long ago. And yet, here it was in a hotel room right outside of Billings, with an angel hovering over and kissing him. Dean was dazed by the time Castiel pulled back and away to admire him.

"Does than answer any of your quandaries?"

Truth be told, Dean felt too stoned to answer. He had always known Castiel to be forceful on certain subjects but the imagining of any kiss did not compare to the one he had just been pulled through. It didn't make him horny as much as it changed the way he looked at Castiel and the warmth of his body, the power in his hands, the absolute clarity and wonder just hidden behind the quiet, wondering eyes.

"Cas, I've never..."

Castiel simply nodded before descending again. "I know, Dean. I know you far better than anyone on this earth will."

Dean felt the air between their bodies squeeze away. The next kiss took his breath away, forced him to concentrate on the pure buzzing feeling all over his skin. He wanted, no needed, to rip away all of his clothes. He didn't even want to touch himself, just to feel the angel all over himself as naked as he could be.

"Wow."

"I believe now is the time to remove clothing."

Castiel whispering it in Dean's ears sounded naughtier than any foreplay he could have invented. "But what about..."

"Sam will spend the night caring for an angry Chuck, in many ways."

"You mean?"

Castiel's eyes were suddenly filled with concern. "The destiny of the Winchester boys is not to be lonely all the time."

Looking back, Dean decided that Castiel's breath was at the very least an aphrodisiac. Something inside it made Dean's body loose, made all the knots in his stomach and neck and balls of his feet untwist. Goosebumps raised when Castiel's light fingers brushed over his ribs, shirt flung neatly over his head. Reaching down for his pants and shucking them off greedily, Dean almost instantly regretted it. It was clear that Cas was not one to take things quickly or lightly. Dean's experience should have taught him that.

"Are you truly this impatient then?"

"Ummm..."

"You talk far too much, Dean Winchester."

Castiel would be honest if anyone ever asked about the taste of Dean's skin. Well, that is, in a way that would not embarrass him. His skin had a taste to it, tender and vibrant like smoky Georgia barbecue sauce on ribs. What Castiel was not aware of was his host body's predilection to the taste. Fueled by satiation, he listened for the groans, aware of heightened senses.

Dean was trying, with a host of difficulty, to not use the phrase "Oh God." It was bad enough that he was being touched by an angel, if you'll pardon the pun, but he could not afford to add blasphemy to his ever-mounting list of wrongdoings. He felt this need to latch onto Castiel's hair, so this sexual bond between them couldn't be broken.

Castiel noticed Dean's hands moving, grabbing onto the sheets in tiny fists of ecstasies. He knew those hands, knew how rough they could be and masculine with the use of various weapons. But he also knew how tender they were, how the jagged cuts and bruises inside them could leave Dean wincing in pain, something which Sam had more trouble noticing than he cared to admit.

Dean couldn't help himself when Cas finally reached his cock after ages of tiny kisses and nibbles over his chest. His hands had an itch, a mind of their own. Trying his best not to slam Castiel's throat down on his cock, Dean guided the already magnificent angel onto the sweet spot of engulfing his dick. Dean could have sworn that his eyes rolled in the back of his head.

Castiel knew that Dean's inner senses would take the lead eventually and he had just been waiting for that spark. He knew that Dean would need to be dominant, and it was one of the trait he admired about Dean, that willingness to be a dominant leader without the beration that eventually takes the humanity out of the said leader. For all that Dean had suffered at the hands of angels and demons who brushed his path, Castiel wanted to give Dean this. He needed Dean to feel whole bliss, even if it was just for a split second.

And whole bliss was nearly undeniable. Dean would never identify what he was feeling as love or lust because as far as he was concerned, this was a one time deal and was absolutely not going to give him and the angel couple status. He would probably eat those words eventually, every time he saw Castiel he was sure he would feel that same desire. But damn, he thought, who wouldn't feel desire for someone who could do all this?

Castiel moved back as Dean lurched forward.

Dean's voice was more rough and jagged than normal. "Need a minute."

"Is it pleasurable?"

Dean fell backwards on the bed. "That's why I'm asking for a breather."

Castiel rose, shedding the rest of his clothes and then proceeding to climb into the bed next to Dean's side. He had a fleeting notice that he chose to lay on the side opposite of Sam's bed and close to the wall diving the bathroom from the bedroom. "Then I will just lay here."

That spark in the skin was evident to every hair on Dean's arms and every tense muscle in his shoulder. "I'm not sure that's gonna help."

Castiel went to move, but Dean grabbed his wrist before he got too far. Castiel was confused. "But you said..."

Dean shook his head. "Oh no. Not at the risk of you leaving. You gave me a kiss and I've gotta pay you back for that."

"There is no need..."

Castiel refused to believe that he was feeling an absurd notion of lust as Dean kissed him hard, which would certainly leave a bruise. And yet, Castiel wanted to be bruised by Dean. It was a fair exchange for his own mark, for all the teachings and all the times they had spent together. Dean's head was still tilted to the side but his body laid out straight enough that Castiel could let his arm throw itself gently over Dean's naked chest.

It was like a shock paddle in a hospital to Dean, starting with the tingling tremble that made his organs move and do flamenco dances. Castiel was holding him, comforting him. And it was the sexiest and most damn intriguing and infuriating thing that he had ever felt. He had to push himself closer to the angel, had to feel this. The lust was hazy, overtaking eyes and kneecaps and ribcage and even hardened shaft.

Castiel could feel the pressure build up and the raspy gasps in Dean's kiss. His body was still, trying to conserve the spams that lead to ejaculation. Castiel felt guilty for wanting this to end at the expense of Dean's orgasm, but for not wanting it to end and risk losing this feeling of extreme intimacy they were having.

"Damn it, Castiel, you shouldn't feel this good."

The growl made Castiel shiver. "I concur. Your part also is very gratifying."

"I shouldn't even ask what I'm thinking, but I gotta..."

Castiel shook his head. "I do understand. You need to be close, I need you to be close. Dean Winchester, I have never trusted another human more."

"I'm gonna hurt you, Castiel."

Castiel finally nodded in response. "I am aware of the male anatomy."

"Why would you agree then?"

"You ask too many questions."

Castiel rolled, but Dean gripped him tight and rolled him back. "No. Don't turn away."

Castiel found that his legs were just bendy enough that he could acquiesce to Dean. He gasped the moment that Dean was hard over his hole. His host's body was less than perfect, but it was very sensitive in that one spot and the meeting of muscle and flesh sent his mind reeling to less than perfect places. His unease was not from the act itself, but what he saw himself reflecting in Dean's glossy eyes. Still, he had made a commitment to the act and was unwilling to turn back the proceedings at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Cas."

"Don't be sorry."

It was slow and Castiel would admit that it was less than pleasurable about a third of the time. Dean was larger than the average American male with his nine and a half inches of hardened shaft. Trying to untense and be at peace, Castiel found himself melting into Dean's body which made both cocks quicken.

Dean held himself inside for a few seconds. Castiel's body was trembling and he regretted what he had asked for almost immediately. Castiel, though, was being a trooper and believed that Dean would keep him safe. Hell, how long had anyone looked at him like that? The tight body, the inquisitive and trusting eyes, the sensations running across his skin. He allowed himself a glimmer of warmth into the heart that had so many jagged lines running through it that a puzzle was easier to piece back together.

Castiel knew this was the right thing for Dean when he felt that warmth begin to reverberate in his body. Dean's arms and legs began to change and mirror the warmth as it spread. They were more tender, more caring, and they clung to Castiel more than they ever had.

The moment came when Dean was going to have to thrust or lose his load. It began slight and slick, the warm motel room providing Dean with enough sweat and Castiel providing with enough saliva that he was slick enough. He knew that he was safe inside Castiel's body and that took more of a load away from his mind. Truth be told, he wanted to shoot and keep shooting into Castiel until he was so wracked with exhaustion and pleasure that he would never come down again. And the scary thing about it was that Castiel would let him.

Cas had never felt this way, this close to a human. And he truly understood that he never would again. Still, the experience would be over soon if the tension in both pair of testicles and the lined muscle forming and tensing in Dean's cock were any indication. Dean was ready and Castiel was ready to feel it.

"I'm gonna....I've gotta...Cas..."

Castiel grabbed onto Dean's lips with his own, giving the hunter all the jump start he needed. Dean thought the world might end when he finally did start to cum. He could feel it all over Castiel's tight hole and his cock, figured it would start leaking onto the sheets. But he couldn't stop the thrusting and lust and the groaning shot after shot. He grabbed onto the nearest body part he could find just in time to find that Castiel's cock was cumming against his chest.

They kissed in groans and left the thrusting to their bodies. It might have been ten seconds, ten minutes, ten years. But neither cared and time wasn't very consequential. Dean figured that if Sammy walked in and didn't understand then Dean would blame him. And Castiel was just defiant enough that he would take Sammy to task on it.

Dean's hand loosened its grip on the spasmed cock long enough to give himself leverage to release from Castiel. They looked at each other, naked and sticky and out of breath, for a long time. Neither wanted to move and Dean fought drifting off to sleep, which happened finally, even hoping that Castiel would stay. Which, he did.