Author's Note: So, the incredible acklesbatch wondered if I'd write her something, and well, here it is! This is one of my first attempts at angst and also my first time writing fallen!Cas. Like I said, it takes place somewhere in Season 9. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural although I'd be willing to make a deal with Crowley to get my hands on it.

Very few things ever left Dean Winchester speechless. After spending his entire life hunting, he had seen just about every kind of nightmarish creature known- well, actually, unknown- to man. So, not much really surprised him anymore. But this? Oh no, this was disturbing and startling on a whole new level.

"Cas… is that what I think it is?"

The fallen angel was sitting down at the table in the main room of the bunker, focused intently on none other than the latest copy of Busty Asian Beauties. At the sound of Dean's voice, Cas jumped in his seat, the magazine flying out of his hands and landing open on the table. His eyes darted nervously around the room before settling on the hunter who stood propped up against the door frame with a mischievous grin on his face.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. The look on the fallen angel's face was priceless. The horny little bastard's cheeks were beginning to turn red, his hands immediately moving to his lap to cover up the crotch of his pants. The son of a bitch had been sitting in here the entire time looking at porn?

"You sneaky little shit," he laughed, making his way over to where Cas sat, "you stole my latest copy! What, needed to get your fix or something now that you're a regular, red-blooded man?"

Cas shifted nervously in his seat, licking his lips and glancing back down at the magazine now sitting open on the table. For a few seconds, the room filled with silence as Cas continued to stare at the magazine and not say a word.

Suddenly, the fallen angel's entire demeanor changed. His brow furrowed and his hands balled into fists in his lap. He looked up at Dean, lips twisted in an angry scowl. "Just because I am no longer an angel, Dean, does not mean that you can tell me what to do."

Dean's jaw dropped. What the fuck?

"If I am feeling a certain sexual desire"- Dean cringed at the fallen angel's choice of words- "I should be able to fullfill it. As far as I can see, this pornographic magazine does not have any labels or notes that state I may not borrow it. Therefore, I should be able to use it and return it to you if I wish."

"Cas, buddy-"

"I don't need your permission to do anything, Dean!" Cas cried, quickly pushing back his chair and jumping to his feet. Instead of yelling something bitter back, Dean stayed quiet, knowing full well that anything he said would just make the situation worse.

"I have been in existence for far longer than you, than Sam, than the human race itself!" he cried, his body beginning to shake with anger and frustration, "I know more than you could ever imagine! I-I am an angel of the-"

And that's the moment he broke down. Tears began to stream down his face, his lips still parted as he tried desperately to finish his sentence. But he wouldn't be able to finish; he physically couldn't. It was the first time Dean had every seen Cas cry, and he knew immediately that he never wanted to experience it again. He felt as if he might throw up, his stomach lurching and bile beginning to rise in his throat.

What the hell was he supposed to do? Deep down, he knew that the only thing he wanted to do was gather the angel in his arms, allow him to clutch to his chest and press his face into the soft flannel of his shirt as he cried. But was that right? Was that what Cas wanted? Was that what he wanted? And the only answer he knew was the one that scared him the most.

Cas was now doubled over, arms held out to brace himself against the table as his body continued to quiver with the force of his quiet sobs. The room was eerily silent except for the sound of the fallen angel's small whimpers, each tear shed piercing Dean's heart as if he were being stabbed repeatedly in the chest.

Dean was many things, but he wasn't heartless. This had gone on long enough.

"Shit, Cas," he sighed, straightening up and making his way quickly to where the fallen angel stood against the table. The idea of just taking Cas into his arms, comforting him like his own strange, sad excuse for a knight in shining armor had seemed simple enough. But as he positioned himself behind the fallen angel, he had no idea what the hell he had been thinking. Consoling someone by holding them against your chest was something a couple did, wasn't it? Fuck.

It was a complete "chick flick" moment, something so completely against who Dean was. Or at least who he had always convinced himself he was. Ever since he had been a young boy, John had been coaching him about how to be "manly". About what to do and not to do as the man of the house, how to set the perfect example for little Sammy. And holding another man while he cried was definitely not one of the things included on his father's Code of Masculinity.

Nervously, he reached out and laid his right hand on Cas's left shoulder, breath catching in his throat as the fallen angel turned to look at him. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks stained with the salty moisture of fresh tears. Even as he watched, another tear pooled at the corner of the fallen angel's left eye before gliding slowly down his cheek.

Dean didn't know what it was about Cas's appearance that finally pressured him to respond. It could've been his tear-stained cheeks or his red, swollen eyes. It could've been his quivering lower lip or his little mewls of sorrow. Hell, if he was perfectly honest with himself, it was probably a combination of every minute detail that pushed him to act.

He reached up with his other hand, gently brushing away the falling tear drop with the pad of his thumb. Carefully, he continued to swipe his thumb over the skin underneath Cas's eye. It was soft, completely unlike what Dean had always thought it would be.

"Dean," Cas whispered, his voice pulling the hunter out of his blissful trance. He hadn't even noticed that he had taken another step closer to the fallen angel as he had been stroking his face. Dean was close enough now to feel Cas's warm breath mingle with his own, the lapels of the fallen angel's trench coat pressed against his chest and his shaky knees occasionally bumping against his shins.

This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to feel this unimaginable magnetic pull, this ridiculous compulsion to softly kiss the corner of Cas's mouth and card his fingers through his tousled hair. He wanted to memorize every single inch of the fallen angel's face, to map out every single precious detail. The way his nose would feel as it brushed against his, the way his eyelashes would tickle his skin, the way his stubble would occasionally rub against his jaw- every last sensation flooding his mind as if it had already happened.

Was this the right time? With tears streaming down his face and head so completely fucked up now that he was a "pitiful human" after spending his entire existence as a Warrior of God? Or had it been Lucifer's Crypt when they had managed to break Naomi's control over Cas? Had it been when they were sitting together at the bar, Cas confessing that he probably wouldn't be allowed to live when Heaven caught up with him? Or, hell, had it been long before that, after he had taken a glimpse into the future and seen the obvious shift in their relationship dynamic to something more than just friends?

Dean continued to stare into the fallen angel's eyes, so bright and vividly blue, desperately hoping that he would be the one to make the decision for him. Slowly, he began to move his hand, keeping his thumb pressed to Cas's cheek as he shifted the rest of his fingers to cup the fallen angel's face. Cas let out a soft hum of approval, leaning into the warm touch and allowing his eyes to flutter closed. Dean couldn't help but smile, savoring the way that just a simple touch, his touch, had managed to provide so much relief.

As much as he wanted to kiss the fallen angel right now, to finally do what he should've done so long ago, he knew what Cas really needed right now. Sadly, his touch would only offer Cas a brief respite from his inner turmoil, alleviating his pain for now but certainly not for good. If anything, the best thing he could for him was at least try to make him see the truth.

"Cas," Dean whispered, watching the fallen angel's eyes crack open to reveal a glimpse of his brilliant, cerulean irises, "I'm not gonna start ordering you around now that you're human. I mean, even human, you could still kick my ass, right?"

Cas chucked softly, lips turning up into a small grin to mirror Dean's. He scanned the hunter's face, obviously trying to discern whether he believed what he was saying or was just trying to make him feel better.

"No, buddy, but seriously, you're not any less important now that you're human. Not one fucking bit. Even when you were an angel" -Cas visibly flinched when he said the word "angel"- "you were practically human. You cared about people! And you never had to, no, it wasn't part of your angelic mission or anything. You chose to do it!"

Dean's vision was beginning to blur, tears welling up and waiting anxiously to glide down his cheeks. He hadn't meant to cry, he really hadn't. But Cas just didn't seem to get it and he fucking needed him to understand.

"You've always loved humanity, Cas! I can just- I can imagine you sitting there at a big round table up in the clouds telling all the other angels that they were dicks for wanting to start the apocalypse. A-and then you would just slam your fists down on the table because the bastards wouldn't listen and then leave. I-I bet you- you just…"

He had so much more to say, so many reasons he'd come up with to explain why Cas wasn't any different now. And he wanted to say them, it was all that he wanted actually, but fuck, when had Cas's eyes gotten to be so damn blue?!

It was impulsive, spontaneous, and incredibly risky. But Dean didn't care- he needed this so much that it almost hurt. Quickly, he leaned in and kissed the spot at the corner of Cas's mouth that he had been observing earlier. The movement had been so unexpected, causing the fallen angel to stiffen at the contact, brain frantically trying to catch up.

Dean wasn't really sure what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. When Cas failed to react immediately to the contact, he hadn't been that surprised. He was Dean Winchester, a college drop-out and nothing more than a grunt, while Cas had been an angel. If the fallen angel wanted something better, well, he deserved it.

Instead of pulling away as he had guessed that he would, Cas tilted his head, sliding his lips over to capture Dean's bottom lip. He gently sucked on it, pulling it eagerly into his mouth and gliding his tongue lazily across the soft, plaint flesh. It was simple, the curious kiss of someone who was still concerned about the other's intentions, but hell if it wasn't more incredible than every kiss Dean had ever experienced combined.

Dean reached his other hand up to fully hold the fallen angel's face. Cas's own arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer and eliminating any excess space that had been between them.

Dean could taste the salt from his own tears mixed with Cas's along with the residual spearmint flavor of the fallen angel's mouthwash. He felt Cas sigh "Dean" quietly into his mouth, felt his entire weight pressed against him. It wasn't anything like the kiss he had seen Cas share with Meg, less hungry and animal. The fallen angel was more gentle with him, and although less ravenous, infinitely more passionate.

Eventually, they had to pull away as they became lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. Leaning back, their lips separated with a little, wet pop. Dean leaned his forehead against Cas's, closing his eyes and breathing out a deep sigh of relief. The fallen angel's hair tickled his skin as his exhales ruffled the strands now clinging to the sweaty skin of his forehead.

"Cas-"

"It's okay, Dean, I think I understand now."