Tumblr prompt written for that-darling-little-sammy.

It was Castiel's first time being a hunter as a human, and already he had been captured. Although he was first confused at not being killed then and there, he saw the practicality of being a hostage in order to "lure your little hunter friends here." Castiel barely had the strength to keep his head up above his chest after the last feeding the succubus had taken from him, stealing away his life force with his newfound vulnerability. There was that uncomfortable need between his legs he remembered from one of his few visits to the Winchesters during that shameful time he'd turned against his own family and worked with a demon, and not just any demon but the King of Hell, no less.

"All that sexual repression," the succubus purred in his ear from behind, one hand caressing his stubbled cheek. "It's like an all you can eat buffet." She then came around to his front, straddling Castiel's waist, and licked a stripe up Castiel's neck before biting into the soft human flesh there. She moaned and gripped his shoulders in an unbreakable hold, though it wasn't that hard with her stealing away some of the last of the energy in his body. Castiel's eyes drooped against his will and his head rested against the succubus' shoulder, neck unable to support the weight anymore.

A shout of "Hey, bitch!" was proceeded shortly by the loud burst of noise Castiel recognized as a gunshot. The weight on his lap gave a quick jerk before falling to the floor, a pool of dark orange blood quickly flowing from the newly made hole in her head. He slumped even further forward against his bindings as the echoing of rapid footfalls approached him from behind.

There was a sharp snip as the zip tie binding his hands behind the chair backing was cut and Castiel was suddenly aware of two large hands holding his face up. The warmth from those two supports seeped into his frozen body, and Cas mustered the last of his strength to lift his eyes to meet the terrified face of Dean Winchester. Castiel saw relief spread across the other man's face as the rapid movement of his lips increased in speed. He could not hear anything beyond the rush of blood in his ears, but he could all too well imagine the gruff voice scolding him for being stupid and "thinking he could take on something like this on his own," though they both knew the underlying care and worry that Dean was too afraid to voice aloud.

Castiel could not keep his eyes open any longer, but in those last few moments before the darkness consumed him, he felt the warmth of arms surrounding him envelop him in a strong but gentle grip. It felt nice, safe even.

~x~

Since waking up, Castiel had felt a determination to repeat that feeling from his last moments before unconsciousness built inside of him. It made him feel…unusual, but in a good way, or at least he assumed so. Castiel was still not quite accustomed to actually having a body of his own or the silence that came with being a human. When taking a vessel, he'd always had the low murmur of thoughts at the edge of his awareness from his host. And even once Jimmy Novak was gone after his first death at the hands of Raphael, he'd still had the presence of the rest of the Host, which the Winchesters had termed "Angel Radio."

But now there was just silence and the maddening loneliness would take Castiel at the oddest of times, making him actively search out one of the Winchester brothers, usually Dean since Sam was still bedridden and near always asleep after his unfinished attempt to complete the trials. And here the loneliness did take him, the succubus' venom having fully circulated throughout his body, making him absolutely crave contact with another being.

The ever-present need took over his thoughts until Castiel found himself in the kitchen in the secret underground bunker of the Men of Letters, staring at the unmistakable body of Dean Winchester, bowlegs and all, as he made chicken soup from scratch for his still unhealthy brother. The absolute care and precision in which Dean added the ingredients, as well as the grim look in his eyes, drove Castiel closer until he wrapped the man in a hug from behind, leaning his head against the taller man's shoulder.

"Jesus, Cas!" Dean shouted in surprise. The sudden intrusion of the ex-angel caused him to jerk to attention, spilling some of the bubbling broth onto himself in the process. "Shit! This is why you need a bell, Cas. You don't even have your angel mojo anymore, and you still keep popping up out of nowhere, I swear."

Dean kept grumbling to himself, but Castiel just ignored him, rubbing his face slightly into the other's shoulders. Internally, Castiel was confused at his open display of affection, but some part of him, the human part of him he knew, enjoyed the feel of Dean against him and so continued with a slight tightening of his arms around the man.

Dean stopped talking and simply looked at the man behind him, or at least tried to, but could only see the dark mop of hair that had grown for the first time in years, much to Castiel's dismay and Dean's amusement. All too soon, Dean pushed Castiel away from him.

"Come on, man, I already have to deal with Sammy's girliness, and now I have to deal with yours, too?" Dean complained, but Castiel could see a fondness in his eyes that he was obviously trying to hide, along with the faint redness in his cheeks.

~x~

A few weeks had passed since the succubus debacle, and, true to Winchester form, Dean had not mentioned the scene in the kitchen. The effects of the bite had gone through their course and the utter need to follow his body's demands had left, but the desire still remained.

Occasionally, Castiel would find himself in one of his "stare downs" with Dean, but the feeling felt different from all the other times. More heated. More emotionally arousing. With all the changes he needed to become accustomed to now he was human, these were the most disconcerting. As a celestial being, he had no bounds to tie him to any being besides his Father and, to a certain degree, his brothers. Even in a vessel, there had been the veil of Jimmy's soul and consciousness which acted as a barrier from truly being able to own the body, which was why Sam had ultimately been able to overcome Lucifer; Lucifer may have originally overpowered him, but Sam was the one who needed to give him his consent in the first place.

With Jimmy gone, that barrier no longer existed, leaving Castiel bound inside the fragile being and unable to leave without the power of his own Grace. Castiel was now fully exposed to the needs of that body and his own consciousness, which could finally connect with his own emotions and made them even stronger than just taking a vessel had. For the first time, Castiel had real, physical needs, and it left him scared. He now needed to depend upon others for himself without the general assurance of being able to overpower his opponents.

So now, nearly 3 weeks later, Castiel found himself with Dean in the Bat Cave's library looking for any clues that could possibly help at all with Sam's recovery within the collection of lore spanning hundreds of cultures and thousands of years. However, Castiel found his attention constantly being pulled from the Mesopotamian scroll on his brethren to the human in one of the leather seats near the pre-Catholicism section. Castiel noticed the dark circles under the man's eyes, which often appeared during the long-lasting periods where Dean worried about the safety of his younger brother. The pale pallor of his face made his spattered freckles strikingly stand out and gave him an almost sickly appearance.

Castiel frowned deeply, the look reminiscent to the one that frequently appeared on Sam's face when he was displeased, but hadn't made an appearance in months. Dean had again been neglecting his own needs for his brother which, while just another part of the reason the two shared a heaven, was not good for any of them. Castiel set down the aged papyrus and just watched the other inhabitant in the library. Dean would pick up a piece of material, generally one of the more contemporary pieces that were fortunate enough to be in English and read a few pages before frowning and replacing the book with a different piece in his large stack piled onto the coffee table in front of him. The process would then repeat, Dean's frown growing steadily larger and a crease furrowing in his brow the longer it went on.

On one of the human impulses that were steadily becoming more common to Castiel, he got up from his seat at the aged wood table near the center of the room and walked towards Dean. Without any preamble, Castiel gently took Dean's current book on herbal cures and set it down on top of the pile. Dean looked up with anger and, from what Castiel could tell from experience, betrayal.

"Dean, you can't help Sam if you're not okay as well. You haven't slept in days and you only eat when Sam does. I may be new to being human, but I do know it is not healthy to live off of one sandwich a day."

And with that, Castiel plopped right down on Dean's lap. He wrapped his thin arms around Dean's tan neck and curled slightly into a loose ball.

"Cas, what the hell are you doing?"

"I am consoling you with a hug, Dean."

"Cas, this isn't hugging. What Sam and I do is hugging. This…this is fucking cuddling. I don't do cuddling, man." Dean's face was pink, but he didn't push Castiel away.

"Sam is going to get better Dean."

"You're damn right he will."