Lips
Soft lips brush against Dean's full lips, he can't picture it, but the feeling of them warm and pliable against his own is what he remembers.
Dean never thinks of these 'dreams' during the day, the thought never occurring to him that he sees the owner of those lips on a regular basis.
Another night in a motel and Dean is slowly drifting from consciousness when those lips return. They are soft, pressing against his leisurely, their warmth spreading through him. Dean kisses back softly, quietly, pulling at the plump lips with his own, running his tongue over the chapped bottom lip.
"Castiel," Dean breathes out barely audible, the lips hover over his. A hand comes from the darkness and rests on Dean's cheek. He leans into the touch, savoring every touch he can get from this experience. 'I love you.' He thinks though his lips stay closed. The angel can hear his thoughts and he knows it.
"I know, Dean." The familiar rough voice comes from over him, lips grazing over his own.
Dean lifts his chin so that their lips meet once more in the darkness. Castiel is the one who ends the kiss and Dean misses him already. "Will you ever let me remember?" His eyes are open and he stares up trying to make out the figure above him.
A thumb slides along Dean's bottom lip. "Maybe one day." Then two fingers rest gingerly against his temple and Dean is left with the feeling of soft lips being brushed against his own.