(A/N) I'm really trying to get back into writting (I've had some major writers block) so I'm going to be doing a few fic challenges. This is the first one of drabbles based around the 7 deadly sins. First up;
Greed
Dean liked women, he liked cold beer and singing to the classics off tune just to annoy his brother. He gave a lot to hunting, blood, sweat, tears and most importantly he gave his time for hunting. Years slipped away and if he had to think back on his life it was only in the linear context of cases. Two cases ago, three, or the one case where they were stuck in a barn strung up like pigs. Though Dean couldn't complain, they ate fast food and stayed in cheap motels and got to kill a few demons along the way, everything was fine until he got mauled to death.
Then everything slipped through his fingers, his world, his sense of time and hope seemed like a thing of the past until he was saved. Crawling up from his own grave might have been poetic if he hadn't swallowed some dirt along the way and his shoulder hadn't been aching. Hours he travelled, looking for Sammy and Bobby and it wouldn't stop, the hand burned into his skin was healed but it festered like a fresh wound.
When that trench coat wearing, raspy voice, righteous angel finally showed his face Dean could feel the relief wash over him. Something so simple as being in the angel's presence quelled what lingered in his arm and dissolved it into blessed numbness instead of built up anxiety. He had to keep it a secret, a weakness like that couldn't surface on his face or manifest in some habit, it just couldn't.
If he'd noticed when it began Dean would have nipped it in the bud, but sometimes when it was quiet and Sam was sleeping he'd rub at mark on his shoulder and it would feel like someone was watching him. Dean started wasting more time on Castiel, listening to him, taking his words into consideration, calling to him and the ache came and went. Cas had officially tossed a wrench into Sam and his lifelong road trip.
Dean needed more of that feeling, he needed more time with Cas, because maybe, just maybe, if the angel lingered longer, spoke a bit softer the feeling would stay. So Dean struck up a deal with himself, he couldn't be greedy, but it was hard when Cas practically showed up at his beck and call.
At night, only at night because out there in the woods near Bobby's house where he was 'taking a walk' it smelled like rain and it mixed perfectly with scent of ozone and clouds when Cas came and went. Whether the old angel caught on or not, Dean wasn't too sure, just that it got easier to whisper his name and then he would be there, stoic and quiet and looking just a bit confused as to why they had to meet in the forest.
So Dean had to talk, make it look like he was interested in affair of angel's, like he was interested in Cas' deadpan description of certain angels and when they ran out of things to say they sat in awkward silence. Till Dean finally said it, till he admitted that he'd lied, he hadn't been looking for information; he didn't want to 'string' the angel along and confessed to the ache in his shoulder. Of course, Cas being Cas, offered to take it away, he offered to heal and cleanse Dean's body of the mark. To which Dean replied;
"No."
If Cas was surprised by his answer he didn't show it, but the slightest tilt of his head said he was curious.
"I'm not gonna sit here and say I understand it or whine like some after school special, but it feels better when you're around."
He reached out and grasped the angel's hand, the one that'd gripped him tight and raised him from perdition and placed it on his shoulder and it was like the mark never existed. Dean leaned in close and felt the angel tense then relax when he rested his head on the other's shoulder.
"Dean, all you had to do was say so."
Really, Dean thinks, Cas couldn't be more oblivious to the strict matters of Dean's pride and professionalism as a hunter and he just laughed and shook his head. Neither talked much after that till Cas whispered he was being called away and Dean let him go, the air smelled fresh and light and he walked back to Bobby's under a waxing moon.
In the days afterwards, and thankfully not hours his shoulder felt incredible and even though he didn't need to call Cas back out to the forest he did anyway because he couldn't get enough of the angel. Dean even let him ask questions, like "What does tofu taste like?" and "What's a lead zeppelin?". Cas never seemed tired or annoyed about their meetings so Dean didn't stop calling, he didn't stop eating up the angel's time and Cas didn't seem to care.