Cas was falling from Grace. It was painfully obvious, and Dean didn't have any words to comfort him, because Cas was doing his best to quietly hide the signs.
It started off with little things - a cut taking a second too long to heal when in the midst of a fight, the way the angel's brow furrowed in confusion as the soft blue glow didn't answer to his call as strongly as it once did. Little things in the angel's demeanor that would normally go unnoticed by anyone - anyone other than Dean that is.
But then the bigger things started happening. One night, Dean prayed to Cas for help, and the angel only appeared after three hours had passed. Dean almost said something, questioning words on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw Cas. Really saw Cas – how his eyes were sunken and bleary with dark shadows deep in his cheeks from exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that only claims someone from lack of sleep – angels weren't supposed to need sleep. They didn't need sleep. But even still Castiel stood before Dean, jaw set and back straight, despite the light diminishing from his shocking blue eyes. The same way his Grace was diminishing.
Then it was the more lasting injuries. Dark, splotchy bruises riddling Cas' pale forearms from hunts he'd accompany Dean on, hiding them by rolling his sleeves down despite the sweltering August heat. The deep set of teeth marks, courtesy of a Hell Hound, with blood dripping grotesquely down his leg through ripped cloth. Dean watched as with shaking hands, Castiel tried to heal himself. He couldn't do it, and as Dean was bandaging up the leg later that night, he had to look down and distract himself with Cas' bandages when the realization hit Castiel. The angel was quiet as Dean did up his leg, but Dean could hear the choked, shallow breaths the angel - no, man - was taking; the weight of reality crushing heavily only his now fragile, human vessel.
When Castiel could walk again, Dean took him out drinking. Because it might not be a long term fix or cure, but it was a distracting they both needed, whether they'd say it or not.
"Dean, I don't see how this is productive to anything-"
"Dude. Relax. You need a break. We all do." Dean's tone was light but left no room for arguments. Cas just gave a heavy sigh and looked out the window as car lights flashed by on the dark, rainy road, with his cheek pressed against the glass, and Dean chuckled.
"Lighten up Cas. S'just we've both been wearing kinda thin recently. We're just gonna have a few drinks and call it a night."
The pulled up into the bar and quickly made their way inside, coat collars turned up against the night rain. A waitress - her name was something along the lines of Lina or Lana - sat them down at a booth, as per Dean's request.
"These names make no sense Dean. How does one drink a Dirty Girl Scout?" Dean snorted behind his menu before laying it flat on the table, scooting around to Cas' side, eyes skimming through their options and running his finger down the list of drinks.
"That drink's nasty anyway - too much crème and prissy shit in it." Raising his free hand, Dean waved their waitress over again. "Just let me handle the drinks."
"Okay Dean. I trust you."
Normally, Dean would have laughed, but the soft, demure way Castiel said it, not even looking up from the menu, made Dean's heart ache. And a soft swell of pride fill his chest.
Dean settled on what he called "a man's drink." for both him and Cas - your basic shots of whiskey, giving the waitress some cash and a wink for them to simply keep the bottle at their table. Dean poured for both of them, letting the amber color liquid fill up to the brim without flowing over, then raised his own glass. Giving Cas a faint grin he downed and swallowed quickly, grinning as the alcohol burned down his throat, leaving liquid embers in its wake and settling warmly in the pit of his stomach.
"Now your turn."
Cas looked dubious, but picked up his own glass carefully and mimicked Dean's motions - following with a sound somewhere between a cough and what Dean decided on as a 'ga-aak' as Cas swallowed, blue eyes burning.
"T-That's strong." The dark haired man's voice was a wheeze of surprised, and Dean laughed, making Cas almost smile sheepishly. Almost. But it was a start.
"We got all night for you to get used to it. And this stuff ain't cheap, so might as well enjoy it." Dean threw his arm over Cas' shoulders and gave him an affectionate squeeze before slinking his arm back to his own side to pour their next rounds.
"Bet I can drink more than you." Dean's tone was challenging, one eyebrow quirking up, and Cas actually chuckled.
"Doubt it." Dean nodded in approval at Cas' retort and with a grin, he downed his second shot.
An hour and twenty later the two men were stumbling back to the Impala, Dean's arm wrapped around Cas' waist to help him stand up. Cas was giggling senselessly, face slightly warm from drinking as he fisted Dean's leather jacket near his back.
"Alright tiger, into the back." Dean managed to straighten up to help Cas get into the car, letting him crawl onto the leather seats and sprawl out comfortably. Dean leaned against the door frame and dug out his cell phone, squinting at the bright backlight as he searched for Sam's name.
Need ar ide, wad drikning wit cas haha ur drivnig. Dean snorted into his fist, slightly aware of how bad his spelling was, but finding it hilarious. He stood a moment in the rain, waiting for Sam's answer. It came a second later.
Fucking idiot. I can be there in 45 minutes.
"S'good enough for me." Dean nodded happily, feeling better than he had in ages. Closing the back door, he made his way to the driver's side - Dean wasn't gonna drive, but it was raining, and he figured there'd be no harm in turning the heat on, maybe playing some music. Music and beer was always good together. Slamming his own door shut, the sound eliciting a low giggle from Cas, Dean cranked the heat up till the car was nice and cozy, the engine purring softly, then fumbled with the knobs on the dash for some music.
-And miles from where you are / I lay down on the cold ground I / I pray that something picks me up and / sets me down in your warm arms-
Something unrecognizable came out of his baby's speakers, making Dean's fuzzy brain knot in confusion. Sam must have been fucking with his settings again. Grumbling, Dean reached to change it, but Cas' voice came muffled from the back.
"I like it. Leave it."
"...Dude, seriously? S'... Not rock." Dean's gaze flickered to the rear view mirror, and sighed in defeat when he saw Cas actually pouting from his splayed out position on the seats, bottom lip out slightly as he pushed his palms against the leather to sit up and argue more.
"Alright, alright, fine. It stays." Dean sighed and leaned back in his seat. The music wasn't too bad, and he found his eyes closing in a blissful tipsy doze, till he felt Cas' hand sneak around to tug on his sleeve.
"Hm? Wha'izit?"
"Can you come sit with me?" Dean gave him a look as if to say dude, personal space but it faded away when he saw Cas' blue eyes look at him pleadingly and a bit hesitant. With a fake dramatic sigh, Dean shifted and crawled somewhat gracelessly into a tangle of limbs and warm leather in the back seat, pivoting his body to slide into the seat next to Cas. Cas shifted and rested his head on Dean's shoulder, half awake and half dozing, not seeming to care or offer any kind of reasoning behind it. But Dean didn't mind - the weight was comforting, Castiel's hair brushing just under his jaw if he rested his chin on Cas' head. Which he decided after a moment, seemed the most comfortable option, and taking the creative liberty to slide his arm around Cas again so his elbow wasn't digging into Cas' rib cage.
It was quiet, minus the gentle drone of music and the soft pelting of rain on the roof and windows. Cas' breathing was gentle, his eyes half open with sleepiness and alcohol, chuckling softly.
And then Cas spoke up.
"I'm going to die, aren't I Dean?" Cas didn't even look up, playing absently with the frayed ends of Dean's sleeve. His tone was a soft sigh, acceptance obvious. It wasn't a question - it was a statement. Dean looked down, trying to shake the drunken haze from his mind so he could talk. But it was so hard to sit up more and move away from the warmth of Cas, from the gentle weight of his body against his. Cas tilted his head up to look at Dean when he shifted in his seat, stubble brushing against his neck and oh God Dean needed to focus because he couldn't blame the alcohol for the effect Cas was having on him, and it felt so good in all the wrong ways and-
"No Cas, y'aren't gonna die. You're staying right here wit' me." Dean emphasized his statement with a gentle squeeze of his hand above Cas' hip where his hand was resting. Cas murmured softly, and Dean leaned down to hear it better.
"Come again?"
"I said that I've been falling for ages, but your denial is almost admirable." He snorted faintly, turning his face into Dean's jacket as his shoulders shook with senseless laughter. Dean's eyebrows knotted together and slid his hands up to Cas' shoulders, sitting him up and looking him in the eye.
"What do you mean?" Cas simply giggled again.
"Dean. Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean..." It's like the angel was completely fascinated with the one syllable name, playing it on his tongue and lips - lips that Dean's gaze kept flickering down to, his alcohol addled brain unable to suppress his treacherous thoughts about what those lips would feel like against his own, and other parts of his body - but eventually he shook his head to focus and looked back at Dean.
"I mean, ever since I told you that I got re- reprimanded for getting to close to my charge - you - I've been falling." He leaned in close to Dean, so close that his soft hair was brushing against Dean's cheek and whispered conspiratorially.
"They didn't just tell me to stop. They asked why I was getting so close to you." He smiled softly, and then before Dean could stop him or even piece together what was happening, the angel was gently pressing his lips against Dean's neck, just under his ear.
"Do you know what I said Dean?" Cas' voice was a warm whisper against Dean's already heated skin, making Dean exhale low and his head fall back against the leather seat. This was wrong, so very very wrong. Dean was a guy, he liked girls, and he slept with women. But even as Dean's hazy mind checked off all of these facts, he couldn't deny that his mind had conjured up more impure thoughts about the angel in the past months of knowing him than all of the women he had slept with. His mind had drifted to dreams where the angel's lips were frantically working against his own, where Dean's touch had the angel making noises so hot that Dean would wake up hard and shameful.
But apparently, he wasn't the only one with some forgiveness to beg for.
"Wh-Jesus Cas, what did you say?" Dean's voice was slightly broken, because the angel was now kissing down the line of his neck, tongue flicking out against the hot skin, a hand resting on Dean's knee.
"I said that it was because I had come to care more about you than any of my brothers or sisters in the Garrison. Because my cause had become simply for you - whatever you wanted, I would give to you." Cas pulled back, blue eyes still hazy but burning hot, and Dean didn't miss the way his pupils were dilated with want. Dean swallowed, tongue flicking out absently to wet his lips, and Cas' gaze flickered down at the motion.
"But now I can't do that. I'm human and I'm going to die and I'm going to lose you." Cas shrugged lightly, gaze flickering down to the hand on Dean's knee as if just realizing it was there. Dean swallowed down the wet lump that grew in his throat, because here was Castiel, the angel who pulled him out of Hell - who searched for forty years for Dean to pull him out and saved him - embracing defeat and the loss of the one thing Cas cared about anymore.
Dean couldn't lose Cas. Not after everything.
And that's when Dean let go of the meaningless "what if's" and "you can'ts"; his hand slid around to the nape of Cas' neck and pulled him into a kiss, groaning softly at the initial contact of their mouths. A small part of Dean's brain was scared Cas was going to push him away, but no, Cas responded without hesitation, leaning into the kiss and tilting his head to meet Dean's lips flush, the alcohol making their blood pound hot and letting them simply give into this.
"You're not gonna lose me Cas - I'm not letting you go anywhere." Dean's voice was low against Cas' lips, tongue flicking out to trace along his bottom lip. Cas' breathing was already heavier, the hand on Dean's knee sliding up his leg to somewhere dangerously high up on his inner thigh. Dean's blood was rushing south, torn between wanting to take this slow for Cas and wanting Cas' hand working at his jeans already.
Cas' motions were insistent though, sitting his body up more and - Jesus fuck almighty - swung a leg over to straddle Dean's lap, finding his lips quickly again and kissing hard. The music was still playing softly in the background, the air warm and inviting from the blasting heater, and rain was still pelting on the windows and roof, but added to the sounds now was the heavy breathing of the two men and the wet sounds of desperate, greedy kissing, both men taking and taking what they've wanted for so long. Their hands started wandering though - Cas' to feel the give of firm muscle under Dean's t-shirt and Dean's to the slender curve of Cas' hips under the coat. Cas' lips parted with a low groan, both men battling for dominance and control, but it ended in a flash of hot white pleasure when Cas' hips lifted to drag forward and -fuck Cas is hard too - makes Dean moan at the hot, heavy friction. Cas' tongue slid its way into Dean's mouth, quick and damn sinful as he tasted him.
It's Dean who starts taking clothes off though, his hands first sliding up to slide the heavy trench coat off Cas' shoulder, falling with a soft slump to the floor, blazer with it. Cas groans softly, fingers curling around the bottom of Dean's t-shirt and tugging up, insistent, but Dean has to stop him because his jacket is still wrapped around him, making this slightly more difficult.
"Wait a sec Cas, wait..."
"I don't give a fuck." Cas voice is a low growl, and Dean's hips buck up slightly because shit dirty talk just does things to him, and Cas' voice is even lower and near a growl at this point, lips wet and swollen from kissing as he attacks the skin along Dean's jaw, fingers digging into the shirt material near his neck and ripping down the center, pushing it off with the jacket to expose warm, toned skin.
Cas' hips dragged forward again, grinding against Dean's thigh, his own want obvious through layers of clothing as he pressed against Dean's bare chest, seeking out his lips. Dean met him in a hot, wet kiss, exhaling in a low moan as their shafts lined up through denim and cloth, hips dragging roughly with heavy friction. Dean's hands fumbled with Cas' tie before Cas pushed them carelessly away and yanked it over his head, casting it aside. Dean doesn't even comment, choosing instead to simply groan in approval and start working on the buttons of the still in the way white button down, calloused fingertips working over the smooth circles, popping them out of cloth and quickly exposing a V of skin before Cas stretched his arms back to shake it off. Dean slid a hand up to press between Cas' shoulder blades, the other reaching down to palm Cas through his pants. The noise Cas made was instantaneous, blue eyes widening in surprise and moaning breathlessly, jerking up to thrust against the give of Dean's palm. Dean's fingers traced out the line of his cock, pressing his palm against him when he reached his head and Cas bucked up again.
"Dean..." The name spilled from Cas' lips desperately, his normal angelic demeanor coming undone, and Dean felt alive with the power and need.
"I got you Cas, I got you." Dean's voice was strained as he moved his hand away from the heat between Cas' legs - despite the low whine from Cas when he did so - to instead focus on getting himself unbuckled and unzipped. His own cock was straining against his jeans, a hard bulge against Cas' thigh, but he made himself pause, hand shaking slightly as he looked up. Cas' blue eyes were almost completely black, pupils dilated so there was just the barest ring of vibrant blue around the edges, hair sticking up in odd places from where Dean was fisting it.
"D'you really want this Cas? And I mean really want this? Cause... Cause if I start, I don't think I'm gonna be able to stop." Dean's body was screaming with need and want, but he was already destined for Hell. His name and soul had been signed away to the Devil long ago. Cas though... Cas deserved everything. Everything, more than Dean could give him. But if Dean could give him a shot at Heaven, he'd do it. He'd back off right now and plead to whatever deity there might be above for Cas to get into those pearly gates.
But Cas nodded, breathing shallowly and simply looked at Dean a moment, like he was the most fucking awe inspiring and infuriating creature he's ever laid eyes on. And then he managed to breathe out,
"Yes. Dean please, I want this, I've needed this for a while. Needed you."
And then they were kissing again, Dean's hands quickly working over the cold metal of his belt buckle and unclasping it, tugging it out of his belt loops and arching up to help it along, pressing against Cas again. Their moans were getting louder and rougher, heat throbbing through them both as they worked on each other's clothes. Dean let Cas reach down to unbutton him, and Cas didn't push Dean's hands away when he reached to unzip his slacks, helping each other. Getting the pants off was a bit graceless in the small space, but after a brief moment or two of shifting, they got their pants kicked off.
Cas didn't hesitate though as he reached down to hook his thumbs into the waistband of Dean's boxers and tug down, yanking them down to pool around his ankles quickly, lifting his body up to curl above Dean as he did so. Dean raised a hand up so his fingertips lightly traced down Cas' chest, feeling the smooth, warm bumps of muscle flexing under his touch, and the slight tremble that ran through his body in a shiver. Beads of sweat are dotted along Cas' forehead and along his body, no doubt on Dean's own heated skin as well. But all Dean can think about is how Cas is tracing along his shaft with the barest of touches, gaze flickering down to watch his own fingers move across Dean.
"C-Cas..." Dean doesn't mean for the name to catch in his throat, but Cas was brushing his thumb over the head of Dean's cock, glistening slightly with pre-come already and Cas simply watches his hand move. His fingers curl around Dean's shaft by the base and tugs up slowly, pumping his hand up and down and fuck it feels so good, so so good. Dean's hand slide up to fist into Cas' damp hair again, pulling him into a kiss as he thrusts into Cas' hand, hips bucking up in time with the rhythm of Cas' hand. Cas kisses him deeply, with everything in him as he opens his mouth and claims Dean again, dominating him, owning him as his tongue slides past Dean's lips, twisting his wrist when he reaches the head of Dean's cock again and rubbing his thumb just underneath - oh God Cas is good at this, like he knows every small spot on Dean that'll make him moan and tense up from short bursts of white hot pleasure.
Dean was panting slightly from the way Cas is fisting him, pumping his cock like a pro, jerking him off with fast, furious strokes. He pulls away from Dean's lips to kiss instead along the line of Dean's neck up to his ear. When Cas opens his mouth again, his voice is a hoarse whisper.
"Please Dean. I need you."
Dean didn't think he could get any harder, but somehow another hot rush of blood settles deep in his shaft, making him throb against Cas' palm. Fumbling at Cas' waist, Dean drags his fingers down into Cas' briefs and yanks them down -shifting Cas to straddle his thigh as he works the material off his legs. Cas arches eagerly against Dean's chest, aching for more of that friction they had before, and the motion has Dean's achingly hard cock pressed against Cas' hipbone, making him exhale breathlessly.
"I got you, just breathe." Dean was pretty sure that advice was for both of them; Dean's heart was pounding hard in his chest, throbbing hotly in his ears and fingertips and cock and all over. And when Dean took a moment to rest his hand against Cas' chest, he felt with a soft gasp that his heart was beating just as frantically. They both wanted this, both wanted what the other could give.
"S'your first time, right?" Dean knew the answer already, but he wanted to hear Cas say it. That Dean was his first. Cas was his first too, in the anatomical sense, but Dean at least knew the motions. Still, Dean would have to remember later where Cas learned to jack off like that.
"Yes. I only got as far as kissing with that girl in the den of iniquity. I couldn't go through with it." Cas' gaze flickered down, chest rising and falling with his labored breaths, but he seemed almost embarrassed.
"Why?"
"I realized, as she was trying to strip me of my garments, that I wanted my... My first sexual experience to be with you." Cas looked back up, smiling very faintly despite his thoroughly debauched appearance. And Dean couldn't help himself as he indulged and leaned in, finding Cas' lips and kissing him softly but deeply. Cas responded pliantly for the first time that night, letting Dean take control of the kiss. Cas tasted like the lingering taste of whiskey and something that Dean labeled as dark chocolate and tea. It was an interesting combination, but Dean loved it, craved it as he claimed Cas' mouth with his own. Cas was grinding against him again, their cocks pressed together and pre-come making the motions slicker, but Dean stopped him when the dark haired man reached down to wrap his fingers around them both.
"Wait a sec Cas." Dean's voice was a low murmur against Cas' lips, stilling the angel's hand with one of his own. His other slid around to Cas' back, fingers trailing down the knobs of his spine to the small of his back, where his back dipped into the smooth curve of his ass, and Dean's hand trailed lower still, till Cas' breath hitched. Dean's fingers traced around the ring of muscle slowly and lightly before gently pressing up into him. Cas hissed weakly, tensing up, but Dean pressed a gentle kiss to the man's sweaty temple, dark hair curling in tendrils against his lips.
"Just relax. I won't hurt you." Dean slowly slid his finger into Cas and rubbed slowly till the angel relaxed, then pressed another in, making the angel bow his head to press his forehead against the junction of Dean's neck and shoulder, eyes closed and exhaling weakly. Cas' muscles contracted tightly around the intruding fingers, throbbing hot and inviting, but Dean still waited, licking his lips as he worked his fingers inside Cas.
"So fucking tight," Dean breathed out softly, scissoring his fingers slightly to loosen Cas up for what would soon replace his fingers, and Cas simply groaned softly in response. Dean was patient though, slowly working Cas till his hips were jerking forward as Dean pumped his fingers in and out of him. And only when Cas suddenly snapped up, back curving into Dean as he moaned sharply did Dean slowly pull his fingers out.
Dean's hands were shaking - never had he been so turned on, so desperate for someone, but still so scared he was going to mess this up. This wasn't just some pick up at a bar, some phone number he'd soon forget as he drove off. This was Cas. The man who abandoned everything he knew for Dean. The man who waited for centuries for Dean, who saved Dean from the pit after forty years of searching. And the man who knew everything that Dean had done - on Earth and in Hell - and still accepted him. Still wanted him.
Still loved him.
Dean swallowed his thoughts down and brought his hands down to Cas' hips, lifting him up. Cas leaned up for him, bracing his weight on his knees on the leather seats so his chest was against Dean's, and Dean had to tilt his chin up to kiss Cas. One of Cas' hands slotted onto the scar burned into Dean's shoulder easily, and Dean isn't sure if he imaged it or not, but he could have sworn he felt the briefest burn of warmth, surging weakly through them both in a flicker of white blue light.
But then it was gone, and the only blue was the blue of Castiel's eyes, looking down at Dean as they hovered, time freezing for a solitary moment. The rain still pelted the roof and windows, but it sounded distant, the music a gentle, far away murmur.
And then Dean was slowly lowering Cas onto him, the blunt head of his cock pressing against Cas and stretching him out, sinking into him as hot muscles clenched around him. It was so much, too much, so fucking good and making the blood pound in his ears as Cas moaned weakly, the hand on his shoulder tightening into the mark slightly as Dean pushed into him. Dean moved slowly, lowering Cas inch by inch till he was completely inside Cas.
And that thought in itself damn near took Dean's breath away. He was inside Castiel. The burning heat enveloping him, hotter than the flames of Hell that once flickered against his skin but feeling so good and amazing and right. This was really happening - Cas pressed his forehead to Dean's, breathing slightly ragged and flicked his tongue out to wet his lips.
"Nngh, Dean, give me a moment."
"Take all the time you need Cas." Dean's voice was a low, breathless murmur, one hand lazily running up and down Cas' back, feeling the tensed muscles under his touch as Cas adjusted to Dean.
"Y-Your size is admirable." Cas commented weakly, and Dean breathed out a laugh.
"Thanks."
Dean opted to press gentle, open mouthed kisses along the slender line of Cas' neck, up to his ear lobe and catching it with his lips, sucking softly before kissing back down his neck and across his shoulder. Only when Cas gave a faint nod to go ahead, and when Dean felt the angel's muscles unclench did Dean slowly rock his hips up, pressing up with the balls of his feet.
"Mhmm-" The noise Cas made was a breathless moan, shooting right down into Dean's groin and making him thrust up again, finding a slow rhythm and letting Cas get used to it. But Cas quickly made it obvious that he wanted more from Dean, greedily grinding his hips in a slow, hard circle that had Dean press against hot, tight muscle.
"Son of a bitch, Cas..." Dean groaned weakly, speeding his hips up slightly as Cas rode him, his own cock rubbing against Dean's stomach. It was so much at once, more than Dean could even process but what he knew was that in all his years on this Earth, in all the times he's fucked someone, never had he thought it as intimate or incredible, or even as sacred as this was, as Cas dragged his hips against Dean's and rode him.
"That's it Cas, fuck that feels so good..." Dean was breathlessly offering words of encouragement as Cas sped up, watching as Cas became more confident with his movements - the drag of his hips more drawn out and rough, the way he found Dean's wrist and guided his hand to his cock, silently begging for the friction he needed.
Dean met Cas' movements, thrusting up faster and harder, one hand on Cas' hip and the other wrapping around Cas' cock, fisting him in time with his own thrusts. Cas' eyes snapped open and lips parted in a desperate, broken, loud moan, cut short when Dean surged up to kiss him hard, claiming Cas once again. Dean's pace was furious - he knew he wouldn't last long with the heat enveloping him so good and right combined with the noises Cas was making as Dean pumped him, and he could feel the pressure building up quickly in the pit of his stomach, and from the way Cas was whimpering and moaning in short pants against his lips, Dean knew he was close too.
"Dean, Dean, Dean-!" Cas gripped Dean's shoulder desperately, thrusting into Dean's hand and fingers as he slammed down onto Dean's cock, making some of the hottest noises Dean had ever heard as Cas suddenly tensed up and trembled hard, thrusting up shallowly and fast as he suddenly came, coating Dean's fingers in thick, sticky come, short spurts with each thrust against Dean's palm. And it was what Dean needed, what he needed to be pushed over that edge, making his balls clench up as his hips jerked up when his rhythm faltered, the heat that had been building up constantly suddenly break free and rip through him, white hot pleasure making spots dot his vision as he buried himself deep into Cas, spilling into him with a low, broken, aching moan of pleasure. Cas shivered on top of him, combing a hand through Dean's hair soothingly as he came undone under him, adjusting to the unfamiliar warmth and wetness inside him. Dean felt like he was burning up, never having felt anything so intense in his life – his nerves were on fire, flickering with short bursts and waves of pleasure up his spine and through his whole body,
"Cas-!" This time, Dean was the breathless one, pleading and begging for God knows what, never having felt this before as he pressed against Cas, burying his face against the man – no, in Dean's book, the angel's neck, wrapping an arm around his waist and simply holding on as his climax took him, wracking his whole body with surges of pleasure. And Cas held him close, moaning softly against Dean's ear, sweet nothings in a language Dean couldn't understand.
And then it was over. The brilliant dots of light in Dean's vision faded away at the edges, the car slowly coming back into focus around him. Cas' breath was hot on his ear, his body limp minus the occasional tremble of an aftershock. Dean leaned back against the leather seat, weakly bringing his hand under Cas' chin and tilting his face to his, leaning up slightly to bring him into a soft kiss, making no effort yet to untangle them. Clothes were draped around them in a chaotic sort of way, but it was fitting. Right now though, all Dean wanted was to keep the angel close. Because Dean hadn't forgotten how certain Cas sounded when he confessed he was going to lose Dean. Dean knew what it was like to lose people. His whole life revolved around losing people – his mom, his dad, Sammy, Ellen, Jo… He wasn't going to add Cas to that list. Maybe Dean was being selfish, but he knew it was more than that. He couldn't live without Castiel, but if Cas wanted him, then Dean would do his fucking best and more to keep them both alive. It was all Dean could offer, but it was something. And if anyone could understand what kind of sacrifice that was for Dean, it was Cas.
They shared slow kisses as they came down, hands reaching for clothes and fumbling exhaustedly with buttons and zippers as they put themselves back together, Dean reaching a hand up to smooth Cas' hair back, Dean reaching to wipe a bead of sweat from Dean's upper lip with his thumb, Dean's lips parting slightly and making Cas smile faintly. His blue eyes were soft, the color of a perfect summer day, where there's a faint warm breeze that makes you sigh happily as you gaze skyward at the endless blue. Slowly they dressed, but silently decided against shirts – Dean chuckling very softly as he picked up the torn remains of his own, making Cas' lips quirk up ever so faintly in a sheepish smile. Dean simply shrugged and tossed it back, laying back against the warm leather and holding his arm for Cas to curl against him. Even though the alcohol was now out of their systems, dissolved by their rushing hot blood of only moments ago, Cas still leaned in close against Dean, ear pressed against Dean's chest to the gentle thrum of his heartbeat.
The air smelled of sweat and sex and heat, but when Dean cranked the window just barely open, the soft smell of nighttime rain mixed with it and it smelled just right, with the smell of Cas' damp sex hair tickling his nose and chin close at hand. Cas didn't seem able to stop pressing gentle kisses across Dean's chest, soft and close mouthed, the barest brush of his moist lips against his skin making Dean sigh softly. Dean knew that eventually, they'd have to leave the car and face the cold reality of their lives, where either of them could be dead in a blink of an eye. But for now, Dean was going to hold onto this solitary moment for as long as he could drag it out, before it slipped from his fingers and turned into nothing more than a memory. Neither of them offered any words, but Dean didn't think any were needed. Dean and Cas had long ago learned to read each other with basic body language. But it was more than that – they were able to read each other with the simplest of gazes, of hitches in breathing and brushes of fingers. And Dean did that now. As he held Cas close, Dean conveyed everything he could into each and every one of his touches. The gentle brush of fingers along the pale line of Cas' forearm down to his wrist and tracing in slow circles over his pulse reassuring. A soft and constant thrum of I'm here, I'm here, I'm not going to leave you with each gentle swipe of his thumb. The lingering press of his lips to Cas' temple, eyes closed and inhaling softly, pulling him safely against his chest a silent promise of I love you. The slinking of his arm around Cas' hip to cradle him against his chest in the ghost of an endearing way protectively letting Cas know I will protect you.
And he knew Cas heard him. Knew that Cas heard and understood what Dean was trying to say without words.
Sam found them like that, in each other's arms with the smell of sex hanging heavily in the air and the music lulling softly in the car. Both men had fallen asleep, with Cas' head on Dean's bare chest and Dean's chin on Cas' head. As quietly as he could, he slid into the driver's seat and revved the engine up, not turning the music off as they slept.
He didn't say anything about it, simply helping get Dean and Cas up to the hotel and safely into bed.
Because Sam understood; Castiel saved Dean. If there was anyone capable of catching Castiel as he fell, of saving Castiel, it was Dean.
