I watched as Sam and Dean salted and burned the bones; chuckling when Sam started warming his hands over it. I saw them stare into the flames with unbound passion at what they do. They save people. They don't often get thanked, but they should. I also see wonder. Wonder at what happens to the spirits. Where do they go? What will happen to them when death sticks?
I'm shaken from my reverie by the impala's door slamming shut. "You ready, Cas?" Dean asked. I just grunt and nod my head. I don't speak. Not because I can't or don't want to, but because there's too much to be said. Every time that I see him through the flames, it reminds me of him in hell. I've felt a certain obligation to protect him since I resurrected him. I now know that that obligation has turned into something far more spectacular. I love him as more than a friend, even more than a brother. They were all right; I was lost the moment I touched him. I sometimes want to tell him, but the only forms of human affection that I've witnessed are him and Sam and the Pizza Man. I also know that it would ruin our friendship.
I feel that Sam knows and that Bobby did when he was alive. They were always making jokes. Sometimes when I'm accidentally staring at Dean, I notice Sam watching with an evident smirk.
On one case I surprised everyone by volunteering to go talking to people with Dean while Sam did research. After visiting the morgue, Den and I were going to get lunch. I don't know what made me do it, but as we were walking to the impala, I kissed him. He looked shocked, and it surprised me too. "Dean I can expl—"
I was cut short by his lips on mine. He turned us and guided me towards the impala. He pushed me against the car and tangled his hand in my hair. I started reaching for the back handle. We managed to get around the door and into the back seat. Somehow, the door closed. Dean put his hand down my pants, just barely grazing my erection. I moaned not realizing until now just how much I wanted him.
He took off my trench coat and started working his hands through my shirt buttons. At that point I caught my senses and slipped his shirt off just as he got the last button undone. He gave a little nip at the nape of my neck. We got each other's pants off and continued kissing, our erections rubbing together. After a moment, Dean started groping my ass. Just as I was about to do the same to him, he stuck a finger in. He moved it slowly at first and then continued to go faster, building a rhythm. In then out, in, out, in, out. About three fingers later, he flipped me over.
No one knows how much I want this. He would rub his head all over my lower back. Sometimes he would hover over my hole. "Pl-please," I begged. After what felt like an eternity, he entered. He started out slow and shallow, gaining momentum and depth as he went on.
He reached underneath me, grabbed my cock, and started jacking me off. The mixture of his hand rubbing my member and his quick, powerful thrusts hitting my prostate sent me over the edge. I came, screaming and shuddering. Dean right after. With his warm cum shooting up my ass.
We got dressed and drove back to the motel. The second we walked in Sam smirked and started laughing. I was quite confused. I still didn't get it when Dean looked down and sighed. I followed his gaze until I came across a cum stain on his pants. Sam walked towards us still chuckling a bit and said, "If you guys are gonna fool around, you might want to hide the evidence." He pat us on the back as he left the cheap motel room.