Upon My Knees, Do I Repent

by Paulathe Cat

Author's note

1. Chapter 1

A/N: I have to say, that I have never written slash fiction. Not ever. Nope. Not even in my imaginings… well, maybe in my imaginings… but, they were never coherent enough for me to try and write them down. So, this little plot demon comes by and sit next to me and says, "Hey… hey, you… want some slash fiction plot ideas?" I, of course, said, "Christo!" Sadly, the little demon was persistent and he kept popping in when it was least convenient. So, I relented. *sigh*

Like I said… this is my first ever attempt, so… try not to flame too harshly. But, please let me know if I should keep my day job.

Also, I do not have a beta so the mistakes you see, please let me know so I can fix them. I read and re-read and edit and change and… well, it's never enough, is it?

Disclaimers: This is a transformative work of fiction based on Erik Kripke's Supernatural and is not meant for profit, only fun and frolicking (Destiel Destiel Destiel!). No harm or infringement is intentional. This is rated with a Hard R for smut and sex between consenting male adults as well as a couple cases of language.

Spoilers: Friends, if you haven't made it to the end of Season 6 or seen season 7 and don't want any spoilers, don't read this. In canon, Dean is completely straight (or so he claims), so he will be out of character in this way. Otherwise, I tried to keep them as close to character as possible.

Rating: Last chance… R, Really… not PG-13 with hopes toward R… this is R.

Upon My Knees, Do I Repent

The first time Castiel heard Dean's voice whisper his name; the emotions attached to the utterance were despair and regret. The angel refused to heed the call, though it was torturous for him to ignore it.

There were other times that Dean spoke his name. Dean was discussing something the angel had done to betray them or expressing his disappointment in their friend to his brother. Castiel refused to go to Dean. He didn't want to see the look on the hunter's face. He didn't want to see the dark expression of hurt.

There were times, at night or the very early hours of the morning, Castiel would hear his name whispered, a whimper or a sob, pain etched like white hot blades across tender skin in the one syllable, "Cas". These were the times Castiel was hardest pressed to refrain from going to Dean's side. But, Dean believed Castiel was gone, dead, beyond the mortal realm… and Castiel knew it was better—better for Dean—that the Winchesters continued to believe this lie.

When Sam went, of his own volition, to check into the hospital, it was because he believed he was a danger to Dean and to himself. Dean had tried to save his brother from the hallucinations, from the visions of torment and of Hell. Sam's reasoning to Dean was Sam was a ticking time bomb and Dean wasn't able to watch him 24/7. Castiel knew that this was completely his fault. He should have known Sam had not come back from the Cage a whole person. Castiel was an angel and he should have known there was something off immediately upon returning Sam to the mortal realm.

He should have known…

Especially since Castiel knew, from personal experience, the connection between an angel and a human soul…

Castiel will never die. He won't die until Dean does. He won't be done with this life until Dean stays in his Heaven. Then, Castiel will be able to die, to pass and not return. It was the soul of Dean Winchester that anchored the angel to this world.

Castiel heard his name, could almost smell the lingering traces of leather, gunsmoke and aftershave. He could taste the flavors of mint toothpaste, black coffee and cheap whiskey on the tip of his own tongue as Dean spoke the word. He could hear something in his name that he hadn't heard before in the way Dean spoke it. He heard a choked yearning and painful loneliness that strummed his hearing like a bow pulled across the strings to resonate the low bass voice of a Cello.

Castiel knew Dean didn't handle loneliness well. Dean liked to tell would-be paramours that he was like a "lone wolf", but Castiel knew… the lone wolf was usually the first casualty of the hardships of Winter.

Castiel arrived at the last known residence of Bobby Singer. A putrid charcoal smell rose from the burned-out black skeleton… all that remained of a lifetime lived within four walls. Guilt washed over the angel as this was more than a grave marker of a hunter's life. This was a testimony of his betrayal of his friends. This was one of the consequences of his hubris and ambition.

He flew to the hospital where Sam had been admitted. He watched for a long time. Castiel knew, eventually, Dean would call his brother.

He was right.

But, it took a week of watching and waiting. He watched as Sam woke in the mornings to stare out at a world he was no longer sure he would be able to rejoin. Castiel walked with Sam into the large "Rec Room" where the patients congregated daily in forced leisure. Sam sat with his delusions, murmuring to Castiel's brother as Lucifer tormented him with Hell. Sometimes, Sam would press firmly into the palm of his hands with fear shining in his hazel eyes. Sometimes, Sam would cry, covering his ears ineffectually trying to tune out Lucifer's voice and repeating, "You're not here. You're not real. Leave me alone" as a sick mantra. Castiel's insides lurched and wrenched when this is what had become of the Sam Winchester he had known.

And, this too… Castiel knew, this was his doing.

Castiel's name became an itch under his skin as he waited for Dean to call Sam. In the single word spoken by Dean, from who knew how far away, Castiel could hear the pain and desperation in the familiar voice. He could hear Dean's fatigue and hopelessness on the other end of the line. Castiel waited, listening with intense concentration for the clue to where the hunter was hiding. Even before he finished uttering the words, Castiel had arrived in the gutted out building near an industrial park where Dean had cleared a nest of vampires.

There was blood on Dean's jacket… a lot of blood. It was splattered on his face, it coated his hands like slick, red, silk gloves. Castiel wanted to weep. He watched as Dean spoke to his brother, his eyes squeezed shut, his face a rictus of pain, but his voice was sure and strong, betraying none of the physical torment to which Castiel bore witness. Dean laughed at something his brother said on the other end of the call. They were both pretending for the other... Dean was holding back a tide of strong emotions with a clenched jaw and a carefree façade. Sam was joking about his time in the hospital to keep his brother from worrying.

Dean ended the call with a date and time for his next call. Castiel remained hidden even though Dean wouldn't see him. Dean went about the business of cleaning up the mess of bodies and blood. Castiel watched as Dean dragged his weary body to a Ford sedan and slid behind the wheel. Castiel sat next to him in silence. He caught words whispered under the hunter's breath. Some words were spoken in hushed reverence. He heard the name of his mentor and surrogate father. The angel felt still more guilt, he was drowning in it, for making the world around Dean Winchester shatter into pieces when all he had hoped to do was keep them safe.

Castiel remained near Dean for the rest of the month. He watched the hunter visit the local bar just to return to the empty repo in a middle class neighborhood. He didn't look for hunts. He didn't seek companionship. He didn't eat or sleep well.

Then, he called his brother. For about ten minutes, Dean leaned back against the wall while lying on his green sleeping bag. He joked with Sam on the phone and spoke to him about a non-existent Wendigo he was "currently hunting", saying he had back-up from one of Bobby's contacts. When he ended the call with Sam, Castiel watched as Dean cried himself to sleep.

Castiel remained a stalwart sentinel over Dean's slumber. He chased away the visions of Hell and Leviathans as Dean dreamed. For the first time in a week, Dean got almost five hours sleep.

When he rose, Dean packed his belongings, hotwired a dark grey Dodge pickup and headed out of town. Castiel sat shotgun.

Dean drove for ten hours to reach a beach-town in Florida. He began casing some potential places to stay, but it was clear to Castiel that the hunt he came for was not a Wendigo.

Dick Roman was speaking to potential donors for Presidential Primary candidate's campaign. Dean was careful to not appear where cameras could catch his image. Castiel noticed some cameras Dean didn't, but they died with a wisp of smoky o-zone and blue sparks.

Dean was obsessed. Castiel could see it in the narrowing of the hunter's green eyes at the single-mindedness of his gaze as he stalked the Leviathan. Roman moved without fear from a photo opportunity to private luncheon with potential "whales". Castiel privately agreed with Dean… he did not like this Dick Roman.

Castiel entered the darkened hole-in-the-wall bar. This was unlike any bar he had ever seen Dean enter before. Castiel shifted in his unease. There were no busty women in the room. There were no women at all. Dean headed straight for the bar at the back wall and sat in the far corner with a good view of the front entrance and the side door toward the kitchen.

"What can I get you, Handsome?" The beefy bartender asked. The man was about the same height as Dean, but built like a truck. His muscles rippled under the black t-shirt with the bar's pink flamingo logo over the left side.

"El Sol," Dean responded.

The man went and returned with Dean's beer. He remained nearby cleaning the back of the bar, occasionally moving away to make a drink for another patron. He kept an eye on Dean, though Dean appeared to ignore any attention. He was approached by several men who tried to initiate small talk, and the hunter was polite, but he declined the invitations often enough that he was soon left to his own thoughts without further interruptions. He only drank beer and the bartender kept an eye out to be sure he was doing all right. Around quarter to two in the morning, the house lights came on and men started to make their way out into the damp summer air.

"Well, friend… you know what they say…" came the friendly baritone from behind the bar. "You don't have to go home…"

Dean nodded, "But, you can't stay here." Dean eyed the man with an appraising eye to determine any nefarious intentions from him.

"Look, if you're new in town…" he left the statement open to Dean's interpretation.

"I was gonna find a room, maybe stay a few days." Dean told him.

The bartender looked over Dean's head to the bald and heavily tattooed bouncer with a nod. The man gestured to the bartender with a wave and a smile as he closed the door behind him.

"Name's Tony," he said as he turned back to Dean.

Dean tipped the remaining beer into his mouth and pulled out some cash from his wallet.

"Do you work tomorrow, Tony?"

Tony grinned, his pearly white teeth flashed against his dark black skin. His deep brown eyes sparkled with hope.

"Nope."

Castiel was confused by the exchange. The ritual was familiar; the easy banter back and forth between the large, muscled man and the hunter was an intricate dance he thought he understood. But, Dean usually danced it with a different kind of partner.

Tony pulled a pen from somewhere on the counter and began writing on a napkin. He slid the paper toward Dean as the hunter rose from the stool. Dean folded the paper and placed it in his wallet. He smiled and winked at Tony as he left.

Castiel followed Dean out to the truck trying to puzzle what had just happened. Dean drove out to a run down, dodgy no-tell motel inland from Tony's bar. He went into the office, paid cash to rent a single room for a week and grabbed his stuff. Castiel followed him into a small smoke-scented room. There were sounds of the street, a train nearby rumbling along the tracks, and the over-dramatic panting and cries of a female in the room next door. Castiel wondered if Dean would be able to sleep.

It turned out that Dean didn't intend to sleep. He sat at the table in the room and opened Sam's laptop. He scrolled down through a dozen news articles before he looked at his watch. It was five in the morning and the sleeplessness was beginning to take a toll. He moved to lie down on the lime green comforter completely clothed. He folded his hands behind his head and gazed at the water-stained acoustic popcorn ceiling. After a time, Castiel could hear the murmuring from his friend. He heard his name whispered and Dean choked on it as if it stuck in his throat. Dean clenched his eyes shut and his breathing evened out after a while. Castiel knew Dean had fallen asleep. As he had done the night before, Castiel warded Dean's sleep against nightmares that constantly plagued his friend.

When the rays of the morning sun moved across the sky to leave the window of Dean's room in the shadows of late afternoon, the hunter opened his eyes. There was no preamble or slow awakening, just the blink that revealed a fully awake and alert hunter. But, he didn't rise right away. He was lying in the bed with his hand in his hair gazing at the ceiling. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and only when he held his wallet out, did his eyes move. He lifted himself into a sitting position and pulled the folded napkin out in his hand. He looked at the triangular scrap for many long moments before unfolding it and leaning over to reach for his phone.

Castiel watched with curiosity as Dean dialed and waited.

"Hey, ehem… hey, Tony?… uh… it's Dean. From last night?" Dean blushed and rolled his eyes.

Castiel could hear an exclamation from over the line. It seems Tony was glad to hear from Dean. Dean barely suppressed a smirk, but the light never really reached his eyes.

"Yeah, well… had to get a little sleep sometime this week… So, I was thinking about goin' to that rally downtown… yeah, the one with the… yeah, that one… ehem…well, did you wanna… yeah, no problem. We can meet at the bar, if you want? Ehem… right… okay," Dean wiped the his face with his free hand and clenched his eyes shut in much the same way he did when speaking to his brother. He listened for a little while as Tony spoke to him in a much quieter tone. Castiel could not quite hear what was being said. Castiel was taken by surprise as Dean laughed out loud and it was a genuine sound. Castiel looked again into his friend's face to find sincere mirth beginning to bloom. Dean chuckled and sighed as his shoulders rolled back in a much more relaxed pose. He responded to a few more comments with a relaxed air that seemed at odds with what Castiel had observed over the past weeks.

Dean showered and changed, headed out in the truck to park in the bar's parking lot. He waited for nearly ten minutes until a light green Prius pulled up. Tony unfolded himself from the front seat to meet Dean at the truck.

"Seriously?" Dean asked with a wide grin spread across his face. "A Prius?"

"What?" Tony asked as he gestured back to his car. "It gets kick-ass mileage."

Dean barked a boisterous laugh and clapped Tony over the shoulder. "Dude, you are as big as Michael Clark Duncan and you, like, scrunch down into this little clown car!"

Tony just huffed in his good-natured way. The two men began walking toward the center of town. There were people everywhere. Men and women on bikes, rollerblades, segues… they walked, rolled or scooted by on their way to the beach or in the same direction as the men were going. Castiel only half- listened to what the men were saying to each other. They seemed completely at ease, relaxed and comfortable in the other's company. There was music and stalls erected on either side of the street as the two entered the area where they would find the rally. Tony leaned against a wall of a café on the corner as they watched speakers ascend a platform and drone platitudes and slogans to the growing crowds. Tony and Dean paid very little attention to what was actually being said. They would lean into each other occasionally to share an observation or make some kind of statement. The two watched as flamboyantly dressed rally-goers continued to fill the square. Tony made a comment about some of the more outrageous of the attendees which earned a guffaw from Dean. They began walking again to try and get a better view of the platform. Castiel trailed along behind them.

"And, now… Dick Roman…" the speaker waited as the audience booed, "Dick Roman is wooing the richest 1%," more booing, "so that the candidate who already makes more money than God can run for an office ensuring that those people who make nearly all the money in the country get to keep it in off-shore tax shelters, "booing and jeers, "ship jobs to sweat shops in China," so much more hissing and shouts of derision. The speaker continued.

Dean kept an eye on the buildings and in windows to stay out of the way of cameras. Castiel had already checked the square for electronic surveillance. Tony seemed oblivious to the covert glances and furtive shielding from personal recording devices. Dean lost the cheerfulness he had when he watched the long black vehicle roll near the rally.

The rally had gained the attention of Dick Roman. He emerged from the car and Dean's attention was captivated. Dean's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowed and Castiel saw the anger and heat rise from him.

"Boy, you must have a serious hate-on for that guy." Tony pressed to Dean's back and whispered into his ear.

Dean seemed to shake himself from his reverie. He leaned his head slightly to the side to get a better view of his new friend. He smirked at Tony. "You have no idea." Dean responded.

Tony regarded Dean for a moment before reaching out and gripping the hunter's hand, pulling him away from the square. Dean went along with a grimace and a parting glance as Roman began his speech. Tony wound his way through many men and women who heckled and yelled at the man on the platform. They emerged through a narrow alleyway emptying near a lifeguard station on the boardwalk. Tony stopped and turned to gaze directly into Dean's eyes. Something he saw there made him release Dean's hand and turn to walk.

There was something happening now that Castiel found frustrating. He thought he had discovered the motivation behind the charade with Tony. He believed that Dean was pretexting as something he was least likely to be. He went into the bar because the Leviathan would have no way of believing he would ever frequent a place like that. He went to a demonstration against Dick Roman's contribution to the political process attended primarily by the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender community because Dean was least likely to identify or associate with the population. Dean attended with an openly gay man because if Dean Winchester was going to attend an event, it was least likely to be with a gay black man.

But, this new course had nothing to do with those motivations. This was Tony and Dean walking on the boardwalk toward the beach. He watched as they leaned down to remove their shoes. Castiel could feel a pressure building in his chest that nearly left him breathless. He couldn't understand this development. He frowned as he thought how unacceptable it really was. Nevertheless, Castiel trailed behind the men and continued to glower at Tony's back. He held his teeth clenched so hard, his jaw was starting to hurt which made his head ache. These were all human weaknesses that added to Castiel's frustration and irritability.

The pace that Dean and Tony set could only be classified as leisurely. Castiel was watching the two men as they cast contemplative glances at each other. They weren't walking all that close to each other. Dean managed to maintain that "personal space" about which he was always complaining. Castiel was recollecting all the times that Dean had rolled his eyes or expressed his exasperation to Castiel about his failure to keep acceptable air between their persons. Perhaps, Tony was interesting to Dean for that reason. Castiel considered how odd the two men appeared, how unlikely they were to have a true friendship. Tony seemed to have more in common with the men who were exercising there on the beach with his broad muscled back and skin that glistened with sweat against the black tank he was wearing than with Dean. They had the bar in common, but despite the sly drags from a flask Dean kept with him at all times, Castiel had only seen Tony drink water from a plastic bottle. They didn't seem to speak on many subjects but walked a good deal of the time in silence.

They approached a beach front bar and grill with a patio for diners to eat at tables under grass umbrellas. Tony nodded at the hostess and she gestured to a table near the boardwalk. The two men maneuvered to the table and stretched their legs out under it as they sat in the plastic chairs. They sat in silence until a slim waiter came for their order. Dean ordered a beer and Tony ordered some fried potato strings and ice water.

"Have some." Tony encouraged when it came. Dean reached over and plopped a few strings in his mouth. He nodded appreciatively and took a drag from his beer. The two men looked out at the ocean and the people who lined the beach—families with children playing in the water and in the sand, men and women lounging on blankets or towels worshipping the sun, or a few sat in chairs under umbrellas reading or sleeping. It seemed pleasant.

"So, what brings you to Florida, Dean?"

"What makes you think I'm not from Florida?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Tony smiled and joy filled his face. "Oh, come on! Maybe… hmmm… Ohio? No, hold on…" Tony ranged his brown eyes up and down Dean, taking in his clothes, his body, his body language. "Maybe Colorado or Texas?"

Dean shrugged. "We kinda moved around a lot as kids. I'm not from anywhere. More like, everywhere." Dean looked down as he thought about his brother. His face became sober and he faced the ocean once more.

"We?" Tony asked then put another fry in his mouth.

Dean nodded. Castiel saw the façade come up on Dean's face again, the smile that never shone from him the way it did from Tony. Dean looked at his companion. "My brother, Sam, and me. Dad moved around a lot for his job and we just went with him."

Tony didn't ask the obvious question but Dean had tensed waiting for it.

"So, you got to see a lot of the country."

Dean relaxed a bit and leaned back in his chair. The smirk was still on his face but Castiel could see that it was a little more genuine. "Oh, yeah. Way more than any kid really wanted to, I think. But, it was fine. What about you? Always lived here?"

Tony shook his head. "Oh, no… no, no… I was born in Maine." He nodded affirmation when Dean's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I hated the cold. Moved to New York for school, but decided to transfer to Florida State when my scholarships ran out. Never did finish, but I think about going back sometimes." Tony drank his water with a faraway look.

"You don't sound New England." Dean stated.

Tony laughed. "When I come back from visiting my family, I get the strangest looks for about a week before I can make myself sound 'normal' again."

They sat for a while in silence for a while. They were visited by the waiter a few more times before Tony asked for the bill. Tony waved off Dean's attempts to contribute to the tab since he had several beers and Tony had only been drinking water. "My treat."

The look Tony gave to Dean was warm and affectionate. Castiel grinned. The angel thought that this man didn't understand Dean. Dean isn't looking for affection. He certainly wouldn't find it returned from Dean. He was… "barking up the wrong tree".

As the men walked back in the direction of the bar, Tony asked about Dick Roman. Dean was silent for a long time and Tony just waited.

Dean stopped and fidgeted. He appeared pained and angry. Tony looked as if he planned to take it back but then Dean answered. "He's a dick."

Tony laughed and moved to lead them back in the direction they were headed. "Clearly… He's been funding legislation here in the state to block even civil unions and domestic partnerships for same sex couples. The whole LGBT community here has been having rallies every month. They ramped up the 'Occupy' this week since Roman was going to be here."

Dean nodded as he fumed in silence.

When they reached the lot, Dean leaned his back against the truck. There were hardly any open parking spaces left as the "Happy Hour" crowd had descended.

"Thanks, Tony." It came as a whisper. Castiel turned to look closely at Dean's face. His eyes were downcast and he was separating his keys along the ring. He took a deep breath and Tony came closer to Dean's personal space. Castiel tensed as he watched the affectionate smile on Tony's face slip into something with more heat. Tony's movements were slow, but deliberate. He came right next to Dean and leaned heavy against the truck, the side of his body touching along Dean's. As Castiel watched, Dean's cheeks became flushed. Tony leaned closer so his face came near to Dean's ear, his voice low and husky.

"My pleasure, Dean." Tony didn't move away. He hovered in anticipation. Castiel gripped his hands into fists and narrowed his eyes aggressively even if the men weren't able to see it. He clenched his jaw tightly and moved even closer to Tony. The lamp, though it was still too early for the light to be on, popped and glass from the bulb shattered down over a nearby vehicle. The sounds of sparks and the tinkling of shards falling caused the men to jump. Dean looked around with the reflexes of the hunter he was, but Tony just glared at the light fixture in accusation as it caused a disruption in the near-moment he was having.

"Look, Tony…" Dean's manner returned to what Castiel was used to seeing. Tony nodded. The moment was over. So was the 'date'.

"I had fun, Dean. It was nice. You have my number… I work tomorrow at seven, if you want to come by." Tony appeared moderately hopeful and Dean flashed a fake grin and nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks, Tony. See you later." Dean unlocked the truck and hopped behind the steering wheel before Tony even opened the door to his Prius. He looked to his friend and laughed. He rolled down the window. "Dude, it still looks like clown car."

Tony grinned in response. "I fill up twice a month, Dean. How often do you have to feed your beast?"

There was really no answer to that question. Dean waved his hand with a grin and rolled the truck out of the lot, heading out of town.

Later that night, Dean was lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. His phone rang.

"Hey."

"Tony?" Dean asked. But, a grin grew on his face as he moved his free hand to pillow his head against the wall as he spoke into the phone.

They spoke for a while and Castiel huffed in annoyance. Instead of listening to the two men joke over the phone, Castiel left the motel room and appeared once more near the ocean. He spent a little more than an hour searching the darkening horizon for revelation. He found none.

He returned to the motel room and saw that Dean wasn't alone any longer. Castiel's breathing increased and the pressure weighed down on his chest, a tension grew in his throat, and there was a prickling pain in his eyes. Tony gripped Dean's arms tight to his torso. At first, Castiel considered intervening, but he realized that Dean wasn't struggling. He didn't look pleased, but he wasn't fighting. The words that Tony was whispering in Dean's ear made Dean flush, but he didn't look disgusted. He didn't push Tony away or tell him off. He listened and his chest rose and fell with his rapid inhalations.

Castiel realized that this was a seduction. Tony held Dean in submission and spoke in a voice to Dean that was meant to arouse the hunter. Castiel thought this was all wrong. There was too much in Dean's life as it was that tried to dominate him. Castiel became angry with Tony for his presumptuousness. How dared he? Still, Dean didn't deny Tony. He didn't try to get away, but he didn't submit. Castiel began pacing as Tony leaned in close enough to Dean's mouth to force a kiss upon him. Dean never showed any indication that this was welcome, but Castiel was amazed that Dean still didn't argue or repudiate the attempt. He stood his ground despite Tony's large strong hands on Dean's arms, still holding him. Then, Tony began to draw him in with slow, deliberate movements. Dean moved, but he remained stiff. His hands moved to Tony's waist. Dean side stepped to maneuver himself into a more dominant position, with Tony's back to the bed. Tony was strong and wouldn't budge from his position.

Tony wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him into an embrace. Dean was tense, but Tony didn't seem to notice. Tony's mouth moved from Dean's mouth to his jaw near his ear. Tony scraped those white teeth against the stubbled skin there. Dean made a sound that went through Castiel and caused anger to burn inside the angel. He watched Tony's hand slide up Dean's back and to his neck, fingering the fabric of the open button-up cotton shirt and pulling it away from Dean's skin. Castiel moved from his pacing path around the motel room to directly next to the men. The bedside lamp exploded in response to the pressure caused by angel's wrath.

Castiel appeared, visible as the last sparks from the lamp lit the air with o-zone. Dean stumbled back away from Tony, his eyes wide and his mouth open in astonishment.

"Leave." Castiel intoned as Tony nearly fell in his surprise that a man suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Castiel didn't advance upon the bartender or raise his voice above a gravelly command. His blue eyes held all the fire of Hell and all the righteousness of Heaven. He wasn't taller than Tony, he didn't appear larger or more muscled. Dean had said he looked like a Holy Tax Accountant.

From behind him, Castiel heard Dean choke out a strained question. "Cas, how are you… how are you here?"

Tony's eyes darted to Dean who was halfway leaning against the bed and had nearly fallen on the floor next to the bedside table. Castiel's gaze never left Tony's face, though he spread his hands slightly away from his body in an expression of shielding Dean from Tony's further advances.

"Dean?"

Castiel heard Dean gather himself up and begin moving. The angel dropped his staring challenge as he felt Dean's hesitant approach. He moved his gaze to the peripheral until he saw Dean's socked feet step behind and to his left. Then, he lifted his chin defiantly… possessive… to Tony daring him to continue.

"Tony," Dean's voice was strained and thin. "I… I'll call you tomorrow…. Ehem… I'm… sorry."

Tony nodded but his eyes narrowed in skepticism. He reached down to gather his own shoes and his light jacket, letting himself out. Castiel considered what Tony was telling himself right now in order to try and explain the events. When he turned to see Dean's stricken face, it became the last thing he cared to contemplate.

There were tears beginning to stream down Dean's face and he was gasping for breath. Castiel's features softened. He tried to approach Dean but he saw the tension return like when Tony went to pull him in, he stopped. He took a step back and dropped his eyes in regret. Dean approached him with measured care. Castiel remained still and waited for the recriminations he thought would be forth-coming. He waited and all he heard from Dean was a sob. His head snapped up to capture the vision of Dean break. He rushed forward and gathered the hunter into his arms. He lowered Dean on the bed. He placed his hands on either side of Dean's face, concern and love filled him and he tried to radiate these feeling outward toward Dean. He wanted the hunter to believe that they were real and all for him.

"Cas? How are you alive?" Dean's voice was strangled and reedy.

Castiel knelt before the hunter, his hands sliding from Dean's face, down his sides and to hold his hands with his own, folded in Dean's lap. He rested his forehead on their interlaced hands, the sleeves of his black suit jacket gathered and catching on the rough fabric of Dean's jeans. He shook his head. He didn't know where to start his explanation or if he should just remain penitent. Shortly, Castiel heard the sniffing hitched breath of Dean's control return to him. Castiel still didn't lift his face from his bowed position. Dean tugged his hand loose and began petting Castiel's dark hair, scrubbing his rounded nails along the short hairs at his neck. Castiel kept his eyes closed and his head bowed, though now it was for the pleasure that washed over him as he felt the soft touches on his head.

"So much has happened…" Dean began, his voice slightly nasal from crying. He had to inhale deeply through his mouth to garner enough air. Castiel nodded with his head still in Dean's lap. He remained silent.

"Sam…" This time Dean choked on the strangled word much as he had choked on Castiel's name a month or so earlier. Castiel remained still and waited. If he told Dean what he knew about Sam, it may raise questions to know more than Castiel was yet able or willing to admit.

"Sam is in the ho-hospital…" He was hiccoughing as he spoke. Castiel didn't anticipate the wave of emotions that would overtake him at the anguish in Dean's voice. He felt his own tears falling onto their hands and Dean's lap. He found it difficult to hold back his own raw grief.

"Bobby's…" Dean wailed then in his agony, "Bobby's go-gone."

They stayed still and Castiel could feel Dean arched over, leaning against the angel's head. Suddenly, Dean pushed him away, as though all the emotions dragged memories and visions of the years passed and with those memories, the remembrance of Castiel's betrayal. Castiel allowed himself to be moved back and permitted Dean freedom of movement. With that freedom, Dean paced the room, his hands covering the hair on his head and tears flowing down an anger-darkened glower.

Castiel kept his kneeling position on the floor with his head bowed in supplication. He knew that whatever he said would make no difference to Dean. Nothing Castiel could do now would change what he had already done. He couldn't bring back Sam's sanity. He couldn't bring back Bobby. He couldn't change the past and he was unsure how to stop the Levianthan. Castiel was practically useless to Dean and he knew it. He should have let the hunter find solace in the warmth and tenderness of his new friend. Instead, now, Dean was being torn apart. Castiel felt so selfish and low. Tears continued to rain down both of their faces.

Finally, Dean stopped his pacing and approached Castiel. He gripped the angel's hair in his tight and aggressive grip. He tilted Castiel's face up at him. The wide blue eyes met green in their teary communion and the sorrow Dean saw there was real and profound. Dean jerked his hand and Castiel allowed himself to be shaken by the hunter. He whimpered- not from physical pain, but from the emotions he could see in Dean's countenance. Dean slid down to sit on the edge of the bed again.

"What am I going to do, Cas?" Dean asked with a hoarse and defeated sigh.

Castiel waited and thought for a moment before he made the first tentative movement toward Dean. When he wasn't spurned, he moved closer until his hands rested with feather-light weight upon Dean's knees. He moved a fraction closer with every second Dean didn't thrust him away or refuse him. His eyes searched Dean's face and he reached with timid and unsure fingers to wipe the tears from his skin. Their eyes made contact and held for a moment before Dean's went guarded and closed. Castiel felt the isolation and removal of the intimacy… a clear rebuff of Castiel's attempts to renew their bond. Dean didn't trust his angel anymore and Castiel would need to do a lot more to regain the affection he wished to his Father he hadn't taken for granted. He sighed, dropped his gaze and his hand and moved back.

He could feel the heat of Dean's regard. They sat like this for a long while. Finally, Dean rose with a slap to his own knees and approached the angel kneeling down on his. Dean's fingers combed through Cas' hair. They reached down lower as Dean squatted down in front of his friend. His fingers smoothed down the side of Cas' face and gripped his chin with a firm command. He sighed out his nose as he regarded his angel. There was a faint glimmer of hope in Castiel's sparkling blue eyes. He felt that maybe Dean would allow him to redeem himself.

"Come on, Feather-head." Dean reached for Castiel's hand and hefted him to his feet. "I'm hungry."

Dean straightened Castiel's suit jacket and white shirt. He fingered down the blue nylon tie until it, too, was presentable. Dean shook his head in amusement. "Dude, you need to wear something less…" He waved his hand gesturing to all of Castiel. Then, he threw up his hand in defeat.

A small smile alighted Castiel's face. This was the closest he thought he was going to get to Dean telling him that he was willing to allow Cas to make it right with him. It was code. Dean straightened his own attire and wiped a hand down his face in an attempt to mask the earlier tears.

When they were both in the truck, Dean suppressed a grin as he looked at the passenger seat to see the angel riding shotgun. He stifled a chuckle. Castiel turned to regard Dean with a half-smile riding up into a grin. He enjoyed seeing this side of his friend. Dean hadn't been Dean in a long while, and Castiel knew it was in large part, if not entirely, his doing. He had no idea that his return could have this profound an impact on Dean's recovery.

It was dark and there was a Biggerton's outside of town near the interstate. They were seated near the swinging kitchen doors and Dean could smell the wafting aroma of burgers and fries. He ordered coffee and his usual bacon cheeseburger. Castiel ordered the same to be wrapped "to-go", along with a slice of pie. Castiel didn't intend to eat it but that was what Dean commanded him to tell the waitress, so he did. Dean ate his burger and regarded the angel across from him. He kept flashing a look that seemed like something confused him about Castiel. When Dean took his next bit of burger Cas spoke up.

"There is something which you wish to ask, Dean. I will try to answer as best I may." Castiel voiced in his low gruff tone.

Dean finished chewing and remained pensive as he did. He rested his forearms on the table and reached for the hot mug. After swallowing the drink of coffee he leaned in and addressed the angel.

"Why did you interrupt me right then?" Dean asked in a whisper.

Castiel tilted his head as he tried to interpret the question.

"You mean, when I told Tony to leave?" Castiel wondered.

Dean nodded as his eye darted around to check if they were being overheard. Castiel considered how he would answer the question. He thought maybe Dean already knew the answer, so he wanted to make it as honest as he could without embarrassing himself or the hunter. Dean took another drink from his coffee as he waited for his answer.

"I did not find him an acceptable mate for you." Castiel decided to say.

Dean nearly sputtered coffee across the table, floor and Castiel. He wiped his mouth as Castiel remained stoic while watching Dean clean himself and regain his composure.

"No one says 'mate', Cas. Except Australians and that's in a completely different context. " Dean whispered. He considered Castiel's statement while looking into his unblinking expression. "Why did you 'not find him acceptable'?"

Castiel rolled the ideas in his mind before responding. "He tried to dominate you, Dean."

Dean ducked his head and leaned almost entirely across the table. "We weren't doing bondage or anything, Cas. He wasn't trying to dominate me."

Castiel shook his head, "He may not have been doing so with malice or intentionally, but he was."

Dean stared at Castiel for a long time before going on. "How long were you watching me?"

Castiel dropped his gaze and looked at the interior of the restaurant. When he looked back at Dean, he saw that his friend had gone pale. "How long, Cas?"

Castiel shrugged. "A while."

Dean's posture, his voice and his expression had gone aggressive again. "How long?"

Castiel sighed. "I have been with you for over a month. Before that, I stayed with Sam for a little over a week."

Dean seemed to relax. He regarded Castiel briefly before asking the next question. The tension in his voice revealed the truth his body was hiding. "So, how long have you been back before you stayed with Sam?"

Castiel had to consider the time. He didn't really exist here before he went to Bobby's salvage yard. He tried to put it in a timeline that was true but that would not result in an altercation with Dean. He was unsure what answer would least likely end the tentative strings of reconnection they were beginning to establish.

He decided the best policy with Dean was to forge ahead in complete honesty. So, he told him that he wasn't "here" when he had heard Dean call the first time or any of the times really after that. He told him of the impetus that brought Castiel to see the ruins of Singer Salvage. He told Dean that the angels were still interested in the lives of the Winchesters, if only as fodder for Heavenly gossip. He had heard that Sam was hospitalized and where, though they didn't know where Dean had gone. He told Dean that he waited for the call and how he found him after the vampire nest. He told him how he watched Dean from that moment on with the exception of the hour or so between Tony calling and sometime after arriving tonight. When Castiel fell silent, Dean studied his face for several minutes.

"You know, I can't tell if you're lying. You fooled me before." Dean went back to eating. Castiel felt the bottom drop out of his insides. He could feel his face and fingers grow cold.

"I'm telling the truth." Castiel whispered. He looked at his hands folded neatly on the table in front of him. "I told you that I wanted to redeem myself to you, Dean. I meant it. I won't lie to you again. That was how I got…" Castiel felt the stinging burn in his eyes. He turned his face away from Dean's scrutiny.

"What's with that, Cas? You never used to do that." Dean was referring to the expression of human emotions.

Castiel coughed to clear his throat as the waitress came to refresh their drinks. Castiel sipped from the glass of water until she disappeared again.

"I don't know."

"Are you, you know, 'falling' again?" Dean asked.

Castiel shrugged. "Maybe. I don't know."

Dean didn't seem satisfied with the answer. How could he not know? "Dude, is there someone you can ask, or a test you can do?"

Castiel could sense a rise in the pressure within him. He answered the question but the buzzing in his head was making him irritable. "I don't know!" He exclaimed in a raised voice which he immediately regretted. He ducked his head and contemplated the grain on the table until the noises in the restaurant went back to normal.

"I really don't, Dean. I don't know." He told him in a hushed whisper.

Several minutes passed. Dean reached to get his wallet to pay for the food. "Whatever, dude." He rose and began walking toward the door. Castiel grabbed the plastic carry bag with the packaged food and raced to catch up with Dean.

The ride back to the motel was silent and sullen. The fragile companionship teetered on the edge of a knife. Castiel was afraid to push it. He looked out the window and watched the waves in the ocean crash on the beach in the dark. It reminded him of the waves of emotions he had been experiencing. Sometimes they were at low tide and they barely registered as soft lapping currents at his feet. Other times, they were nearly violent, pushing his whole body under their weight and making it so hard to breath.

"How do you deal with it, Dean? How can you control all these emotions?" The plaintive question must have caught Dean off-guard because he laughed.

"Copious amounts of alcohol." He told Castiel.

They were silent again until they pulled into the parking lot outside the motel room door. The sounds and smells of the room hadn't changed from the first time they were there. The difference was, now Dean only had the bathroom light to see by. Castiel blushed in embarrassment.

Dean bounced onto the bed fully clothed with his legs outstretched. He crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned back against his hands behind his head. He studied the angel standing in the middle of the room.

"Is it like last time where you need to sleep?" Dean asked.

Castiel remained silent. He didn't know the answer to the question and he didn't want a repeat of the outburst in the restaurant. After a few moments, Dean rose to a sitting position and he stared at Castiel with a nearly predatory intensity.

"Hey, Cas?"

Castiel turned to face Dean. He took in the intense gaze and felt his heart stutter. He swallowed hard before answering. "Yes, Dean." His voice seemed shaky and strained.

"Do you know why Tony came over here?"

Castiel dropped his eyes. His almost imperceptible nod was acknowledged by Dean. He moved from the bed and approached the angel. Castiel dropped his chin to his chest and waited. Dean wasn't harsh, defensive or angry. He did grab Castiel's chin and lifted it so their eyes met. Dean was exceptionally close, their chests nearly touching.

"Ehem, Dean?" Castiel coughed in his nervousness.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed as he got even closer.

Castiel was light-headed and almost hyperventilating. He focused his eyes on Dean's lips because the heat in his eyes was overwhelming. When Castiel saw Dean lick his lips, Castiel went weak in the knees. These emotions were going to kill him. He knew it. He swallowed as Dean chortled at how dumbstruck Castiel had been rendered.

"You were asking me something, Cas." He reminded him.

Oh yeah.

"Um… you don't seem to have a problem with personal space right now?"

Dean laughed and drew Castiel in closer to him. He shook his head and ducked his forehead for a brief rest on Cas' shoulder. "No, Cas." His voice was so raw and passionate, husky and low. "I don't have a problem with personal space, right now."

This was the Dean Winchester that Castiel was interested in seeing. Dean was self-assured and strong. Dean asked why Tony was unacceptable. It was because Tony was unable to pull this Dean from the man Castiel saw just about to submit before the angel arrived asking Tony to leave. There was a tingling tension below his stomach, in his groin. There was an uncomfortable restriction in his slacks he considered adjusting. But, with Dean's mouth so close to his, Castiel lost all other considerations.

He heard the train rumble on the track nearby, but it could have been the pounding of his heart going wild in his chest. He could almost feel the wave of the emotions pulling him under their weight. This emotion, though, he didn't mind drowning in. His breathing was loud in his ears like the rushing of the cars speeding by on the road outside. When their lips met, Castiel heard a sound coming from inside of him that made the woman next door's over-dramatized screams seem like harmonious crescendos to the symphony of overindulgence. Dean responded to the sounds escaping from his mouth by wrapping his strong arms around Castiel's torso.

Castiel leaned on the hunter's muscled chest. He wanted more. His hands held in supplication to Dean as he fingered the fabric of Dean's shirt in much the same way Tony did. But, instead of a demand, it was a prayer. He spoke Dean's name in reverence as a soft exclamation of awe. Dean responded by moving the two of them toward the bed. There were no displays of dominance. Castiel was willing to submit to Dean in all his demands. And Dean's demands were expressed in the warm tongue slipping between eager lips to lick and massage Castiel's; earning for his trouble another expression of faithfulness from Castiel. Dean was a benevolent dictator and his edicts were so very easy to fulfill. He guided Castiel as a dance partner would lead on a ballroom floor. Castiel moved right when Dean guided from the left. He walked backward as Dean asserted pressure forward. He tilted his head back as Dean lowered his seeking mouth down the line of Castiel's jaw to his neck. When he found soft, pliable skin, Dean opened his mouth and bore his teeth in a gentle scrape that elicited pornographic moans from the angel's throat.

Dean was a musician discovering a new found instrument, never before played. He used his hands and mouth to produce the correct chords from Castiel's voice. His deft fingers moved to the angel's shoulders and firm hands ran the dark fabric of his coat down over shoulders, past elbows and wrists to fall with a tympanic drum to the floor. Then, in renewal of the phrase, Dean lifted those fingers to pull at the knot at the angel's neck, loosening the tie to admit Dean better access to the small exposure of skin at the collar of the white dress shirt. The result was an explosive huff of air and a gasp that left Dean smiling against Cas' neck. Dean hummed his pleasure at the delicious noises his partner was making.

Castiel was surprising in his range. He was very expressive. Dean took his time moving the white fabric back away from Castiel's chest. The emotions crashed over Castiel, causing an involuntary shift, rutting against Dean. Dean stepped back to admonish the angel which elicited a whimper of dissatisfaction. When Castiel expressed the contrition Dean desired, he was rewarded with a deep kiss sending shocks of desire down his spine. This in turn evoked another of those deep bass moans. Dean pushed the white fabric down in a repetition of the chorus dropping the shirt from the shoulders, past the elbows and wrists to the floor. Dean stood with his chest against Castiel. Castiel was running completely on instinct. He may have been an instrument to Dean, but Dean was the alter at which Castiel wished to worship.

He dropped to his knees before Dean, looking up with his lust-blown eyes. Dean caressed his fingers through Cas' hair and looked down at him. Cas shifted his gaze as he leaned forward. He lifted his hands to Dean's waist and sought permission from the man with a glance and an audible swallow. He received the benediction through the squeeze of Dean's hand in his hair and the exhalation of a breath from Dean's mouth. Cas reached forward and pulled at the button, setting it free from the hold of denim imprisonment. He fingered the tab and pulled the metal to open the teeth of the zipper. The nimble fingers of the angel pulled the blue denim away from the prize and flattened his hands as he traced the waistline to Dean's hips. He dragged the denim down over his flank and smoothed it past his buttocks. As he glided his hand down Dean's thigh, pushing the fabric down as he went, he stopped at the back of one knee. He felt the scars along the leg, hesitating to trace a finger along the ridge. He took a breath and lifted Dean's knee with care one handed. With the other hand, he pulled off the boot. Then, he tugged the leg of the pant free from Dean's foot. When he put the foot down, he administered the same treatment to the other leg.

When Castiel looked back up to Dean to receive the approval of his hunter, Dean laughed. The laughter was unexpected, but Castiel saw that it reached his eyes. Dean stretched down to the hem of his t-shirt and lifted it over his head to throw it on the bed. Castiel was confused by the sudden humor, but he could still feel the want, the desire, the lust as he looked at Dean standing in front of him with only briefs and socks to clad him. Maybe, that is what Dean found humorous. Castiel felt a smile grace his face and he blushed, looking down and ending his gaze in front of him. The joy in the laughter died down, but when Castiel looked back up to Dean, he saw that none of the humor fled from his eyes. Castiel leaned forward to press his forehead against Dean's waist and closed his eyes. He inhaled a deep breath, finding the scent of Dean heady. The groan from above him caused him to raise his eyes in hopeful adoration of the man.

"Come on, Cas." Dean breathed. He wrapped his hands in Cas' hair again. Cas took this as the go ahead.

Castiel pressed forward with timid caress of his nose through the fabric of the undergarment. Castiel could smell and feel the wet from pre-cum. He reached up to place a ginger bite on the band of the underwear and pull it down over the erection Dean was sporting. Castiel could hear an exhalation stutter from Dean's mouth as well as a whispered exclamation.

When Castiel pulled the underwear down to below Dean's scrotum, he released it with his teeth and used his hands to guide them down. At the same time he looked up to Dean. His head was thrown back in ecstasy.

"Don't blaspheme, Dean." Castiel admonished.

"Huh?" Dean croaked as he looked back down at his angel.

"Just now… you spoke the name of my Father." Castiel grimaced. "While I don't believe He can hear our prayers any longer, I would prefer you didn't call His attention to what we are doing right now."

Dean blinked at Castiel and he grinned. "Noted. Can you, please, just get on with what you were doing without any further interruptions?"

Castiel licked his lips and nodded. "Certainly." He said with a smile.

When he licked the underside of Dean's shaft, Dean's knees buckled. Castiel moved forward with his fall backward onto the bed. Castiel lifted up slightly to receive instruction from Dean. Dean looked at Cas and moved back onto the bed. He motioned his hands for Cas to join him. Castiel slunk up the bed past Dean's ankles and sliding his hands on the bed under his calves, pulling them over his shoulders. Dean scrunched up his face at Cas, and the angel stopped and waited. Dean gripped his own shaft to finger a light stroke near the head. Castiel's disapproval of the action shone in his expression.

"Well, get up here if you don't like it." Castiel closed the distance and nosed Dean's hands away. He shifted to get comfortable with Dean's heels touching Cas' shoulder blades. Cas wet his lips before taking the first experimental taste of the head of Dean's erection. The sound that Dean emitted may have over-ridden any further hesitancy that Castiel seemed to feel. He engulfed as much of the length as he could and licked the skin that laid upon his tongue.

"Oh fuck!"

Dean's grip in Cas' hair was no longer soft and petting. He gripped a chunk of the dark strands in a firm fist and Cas moaned against the dick in his mouth. It was like a causality loop. The more Cas moaned and licked and sucked, the more Dean pulled and gripped and moaned, which caused the pleasure spiking through Castiel resulting in more moaning, licking and sucking. Soon, Dean was also thrusting. Cas tried to avoid gagging as the engorged tip of Dean's head scraped the back of Cas' throat, so he swallowed and gulped, pulling his tongue back against the underside of Dean's dick in a whole new level of pleasuring. The exclamations of sounds without meaning became louder and more rapid. Dean pulled his knees closer together and pushed down his heels as his climax approached. Castiel was excited by the tension he felt running through Dean in the expressions of his body. Castiel began stroking the soft sack under his chin and Dean screamed. Castiel felt his mouth tighten against the shaft as he smiled. He repeated the touch that sent such pleasure to Dean, reaching lower to finger between his cheeks as well. The thrusting and rutting became more intense and the tension in Dean's body doubled. A quick glance at Dean's face elicited a thrill of happiness and frenzy when he saw the mask of pleasure. Suddenly, the thrusts became more urgent and Castiel experienced the warm ejaculate as it erupted from Dean. Castiel tried to swallow most of what came, but a fair amount escaped down his chin and neck.

Dean relaxed and fell to lie back completely on the bed. His legs untangled from Cas and Dean reached out his hand to pull his partner up toward him. When Cas came all the way up to the pillow where Dean was panting and sweating, Dean looked at him and managed a weak laugh.

"Eew. Dude." Dean reached over to pull over his shirt. He used it to wipe Cas' mouth, neck and chest. He threw the offending garment on the floor. He reached over and handed Cas the lukewarm bottle of El Sol. Cas drank it and washed the flavor of Dean's cum from his mouth.

"Was I not meant to swallow it?" Cas asked.

Dean huffed a chuckle but his eyes were closed and his head was resting against the pillow. His panting was calming down to a fast but steady breath. He shook his head. "It's fine. It was great. You did great."

He pulled Cas to embrace him and kiss his head.

"Give me a minute and I'll help with yours." Dean told him.

Castiel nuzzled into Dean's side as the hunter's arm encircled him. He looked down at his own, still clothed legs. It felt pleasant leaning his naked torso against the warmth of Dean. The smell of sex and beer filled the space more than the stagnant odor of old cigarettes the way it had. Cas was content. He still felt the ache between his legs of an unresolved erection, but he didn't mind. He was happy to be with Dean. Dean- who was sated, fed, and thinking of things besides the misery of their lives. He heard the smoothing out of Dean's breathing and the soft snores.

Dean—who had just fallen asleep and left him unsatisfied.

Castiel chuckled and sighed. He waited a few more minutes before removing himself from the entangled body parts. He stood up and stretched. He rubbed his sore jaw and looked around. The room was a mess. He began picking up articles of clothing as silent as a thief. He piled their clothing near the door to the bathroom. He collected empty and nearly empty beer bottles and cans, placing them in the trash cans. He put the food in the small refrigerator under the bathroom sink. He looked around for something else to do when he heard the sound of Dean's ringtone. It was in the pocket of Dean pants and he grabbed the jeans and moved into the bathroom, closed the door and pulled the phone out of his pocket. The muffled sound of guitars stopped when Cas pushed the green button to talk.

"Dean?"

Castiel recognized the voice on the other end. "No." Cas replied.

"Oh, you're.. uh the… guy."

"Castiel. Yes." Cas felt all the happiness he had experienced over the last hour or so siphoning away.

"Oh."

"You're Tony." Castiel wasn't entirely sure about the etiquette in situations like these.

"Uh, yeah."

Silence.

"Tony, I want to thank you."

Tony sounded dumbfounded. "Uh, okay? Why?"

Castiel took a deep breath. He fidgeted. Angels never fidget, but Castiel felt the need to do so now. "I… Dean has had a very hard year… more than a year actually…"

Castiel could hear Tony breathing on the other end of the line. Castiel let him digest this while he determined what to say next.

"Anyway, I haven't seen him laugh or smile, the way he did with you, in a very long time. You helped him… relax… forget, for a while anyway. So, thank you."

There was silence again, but Castiel didn't feel the need to add more.

"Casteel?"

"Castiel."

"Okay, Castiel. I was just hanging out with Dean because I saw a guy I wanted to get to know. Clearly, if I'd known he had a boyfriend…"

"I'm not his boyfriend." Castiel interjected.

Castiel heard Tony guffaw over the line. "Yeah, okay. I don't know who else would have acted the way you did except someone with an emotional investment."

Castiel considered this. "So, a boyfriend is one who has an emotional investment in someone else?"

The incredulity was clear in Tony's tone. "Typically, yeah."

Castiel absorbed this new information. "Thank you for the information."

Tony started laughing. "Are you autistic?"

Castiel regarded his reflection in the mirror. "Not to my knowledge."

"Okay. Look, I was just calling to make sure Dean was okay. You can be a scary little dude when someone is traipsing through your territory."

"Dean is asleep right now. I will give him your message when he awakens."

Tony huffed a breath into the phone. "Nah, it's probably better to avoid the drama. Just, if he's had such a rough year that his boyfriend is telling me thanks for making him smile, maybe you should work on that."

Castiel sighed and sat on the closed toilet lid. "Until tonight, I had no idea I would be able to make him smile again. I did before… I made him smile, but then… I betrayed him… I have much to atone for."

"TMI, dude. Look, just so you know… Dean seems like the kind of guy with a huge heart. Also, it's ten o'clock in the morning. You guys… go enjoy the beach, go to a club, go see Disneyworld, and while you're at it, decide what kind of relationship you have… because I don't want you giving the next guy a heart attack when you walk in on them."

"You have given me much to think about, Tony. You…" Castiel heard his name called from the other room. "Dean is awake. Would you like to speak to him?"

Tony chuckled again. "No, Castiel. Go take care of Dean."

At that, Tony hung up.

Castiel rose and walked out of the bathroom throwing Dean's pants back onto the pile of clothing and putting the phone into his pocket. He walked into the room with Dean facing away from him.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said with a slight smile.

Dean turned around and the relief on his face ran right over Castiel like a lapping little tidepool over his feet. His smile grew. Dean looked him up and down before walking over to him. He seemed nervous though Castiel couldn't figure out why.

"Where'd you go?" Dean asked as he inched closer to Castiel.

Cas just turned his body in the direction from whence he came and arched an eyebrow up.

Dean sighed. "Yeah, but you're an angel. Just because you came from that direction doesn't really mean anything."

Castiel closed the distance between them and pressed his half clothed body against Dean's naked one and wrapped his arms around the hunter under his arms. Dean leaned down and kissed Castiel. He moved the kisses from Cas' temple to his eyelids, to the tip of his nose, down to the corner of his mouth, and then he pressed his lips to Castiel's lips. Cas opened his mouth to allow a gasp to escape. When he did, Dean used the opportunity to show Castiel how pleased he was to see him.

"I don't want to get dressed yet." He breathed against the angel's lips.

Castiel looked in the direction of the bed. Dean turned to look in that direction as well. His face lit up in surprise. "Oh, look!" He ran and pounced on the bed. "There's a bed in this room!"

Dean patted the bed next to him. Castiel walked over to stand near him and Dean inched his body to the edge. He sat with his legs dangling and Castiel strode to position himself between them. Dean placed his hands on either hip and looked up into his angel's eyes. Castiel pet through Dean's hair with his hands, scratching Dean's scalp with blunt fingernails until Dean's eyes rolled close in contentment.

Dean seemed to lean into the treatment in silence at first but then he growled at Castiel, surprising him, and then rolling Cas with his strong arms onto the bed with him. Dean climbed on top of Cas and pinned him with his forearms to the bed. Castiel didn't struggle. As in the night, he was more than willing to submit. The look of longing that Castiel gave to Dean prompted the hunter to press open-mouth kissed down Cas' chest. Cas arched his back, pushing his body as close to those warm, wet kisses as he could. Dean chuckled above him.

"Dude, you are such a cat." Dean laughed at him.

Castiel looked askance at him. "I'm an angel." He said with utter seriousness.

This caused Dean to laugh so hard he folded onto Castiel with his body flush to the angel's. Dean rested his forehead against Cas' collarbone. When he rose from his fit of laughter, he still managed to release a couple of chuckles.

"No, Cas… Nevermind." Dean leaned over to fall onto his side, propping his head up onto his hand his elbow resting near Cas' head on the pillow. With his other hand he trailed a line of feather soft touches from Cas' neck by his ear down the side of his lateral muscles, to his waistband and across and up the other side. Castiel sucked in a breath and his eyes dilated until very little of the blue was showing.

"You like that?" Dean whispered a growl in Cas' ear. Cas nodded his head with the urgency he felt, his eyes never leaving Dean's face.

Dean leaned over to Cas and claimed his mouth with his own, licking into his mouth and sending shivers of desire down Cas' whole body with just the enjoyment of the kissing. Cas had closed his eyes and caressed Dean's face with his hand while they were tasting each other in their kisses. While Cas was intent on Dean's mouth, Dean was multi-tasking. He reached his hand down Cas' side, trailing a path of sensation to Cas' waistband. He slid the clasp open and dragged the zipper down. Cas moaned as he felt Dean's knuckles drag against his erection. Cas resisted the desire to thrust forward remembering Dean's chastisement from last night. So, he lie on the bed with his eyes clenched shut and overcome with frantic panting. He was rewarded with his restraint as Dean pulled the black slacks down while Cas hissed through his body's reactions. Dean seemed to delight in the control Cas granted him. When Cas' pants were down to his knees, Dean began working his underwear down over his erection. He had only just released Cas' dick when he decided that was good enough. He drew soft touches up and down Cas' shaft. Cas wasn't able to continue kissing Dean as they had been. He was panting and fisting is hands into the sheets to restrain himself.

Dean looked at the mess he was making of this angel in his bed. His eyes dialated in delight and he licked his smiling lips. Cas cracked his eyes open to regard his tormenter through his panting. Dean began playing with him, stroking his fingers over Cas' abdomen. Cas bore this treatment with a minimum of wiggling. When Cas would move, Dean would voice his command that Cas should remain still until he was told otherwise. Dean showed his surprise in his expressions.

"Cas, you are a friggen angel of the lord. You know, phenomenal cosmic powers and everything… but with one little stroke of this hand… " Dean moved his fist over the head of Cas' penis, "And you melt all over."

Dean bit soft flesh at the side of Cas' neck and sucked a dark bruise into existence. Cas moved and groaned.

"Ah ah. No moving, Cas. Until I tell you. Understand?" Dean's grin got bigger when Castiel nodded and stopped moving. Cas' blue eyes were glued to Dean's face. This, too, caused him great pleasure. Castiel had gained tremendous pleasure from watching Dean completely let go last night because of his ministrations. Watching Dean delight in the things he did to Castiel also brought pleasure.

There was a mischievous glint in Dean's eyes as he scanned the rom for things he might use to make Castiel squirm. A 'lightbulb' went off as Dean twitched his nose and his eyes lit up.

"Stay right here. Just like that, Cas. Okay?" Dean said as he got up to get the item in his idea.

"Yes, Dean." Cas spoke and Dean stopped where he stood in the middle of the room. He turned to see Cas smirk at him. Dean groaned in indecision.

He looked toward the angel on the bed for several seconds and then back to the bathroom. He made a decision, though and continued to the bathroom sink. Under it was the refrigerator where Cas had placed the food from last night. He pulled out a container and then moved to his duffle and pulled his shaving kit. He pulled several items from the bag and ran back to the bed with his bounty. He dumped the items on the bed and began pulling the pants and underwear down and all the way off of Cas' body.

He looked at Castiel and drew himself up to the head of the bed to pull him into a long and ardent kiss. Dean climbed over Cas and lay on top of him. He was smiling at Cas as he could tell this was torture for him.

"Okay, Cas… you can move. But you gotta stop when I say."

"Yes, Dean." Cas began rutting into Dean's body with a throaty cry, pressing his hard-on up into whatever part of Dean could elicit that delicious friction. Castiel was feeling the shock-waves of pressure and pleasure. Dean was equally delighting in the motions of Castiel. Dean gritted his teeth as he felt it was getting too close, and he wanted it to last.

"S-s-stop, Cas." Dean stuttered. Dean didn't stop though. He continued to thrust and he listened to Castiel whimper as he tried to control his own body.

Dean slid off of Cas and tried to refrain from crying out in frustration. They were both panting and shaking.

"Okay, I have to remember that particular exercise is painful." Dean panted through clenched teeth.

Castiel nodded his head in earnest. He remained still on the bed and kept his hands away from the part that desperately wanted to be touched. He whimpered and his intense blue eyes concentrated on Dean. Dean shrugged off the quakes of sensations that were still affecting him in waves. He reached over to the Biggerton's container and opened it with a grin to Cas.

"Banana crème pie, Cas." Dean stuck his fingers in and pulled them out with a dollop of yellowy custard clinging. Castiel's eyes zeroed in on the custard and watched as Dean lifted his fingers to his mouth. He stopped when he saw the intensity of Cas' stare. He moved the laden fingers to his left, and clear blue lust-blown eyes followed them. Dean smirked at this new level of control that he discovered.

"Bananas are really the only acceptable fruit. They aren't really all that fruity, I guess. Don't tell Sam I said I liked any fruit. I'll never hear the end of it." Dean put his fingers into his mouth and sucked. Dean noticed Cas' breathing pick up its pace again and his eyes were nearly black with desire. He leaned down and placed soft kisses onto Cas' mouth. He could taste the flavor of the banana and whipped cream on Dean's tongue. Cas moaned his pleasure to Dean. Dean responded by turning slightly to fetch some more pie filling onto his fingers. He hesitated before bringing his fingers to Cas' mouth for him to have a taste. The feeling of Cas' tongue licking the filling from between Dean's fingers and along the digits reminded Dean of last night's entertainment. Dean began to pant and Cas noticed the hardening of his penis as well as the dilation of his eyes. It caused Castiel to smirk in response. He apparently remembered, too.

Dean scooped some more from the container and instead of putting it in either of their mouths, he smeared a bit down the shaft of Castiel hardened erection. Cas threw his head back and groaned loudly. His eyes were closed and his mouth open breathing heavy exhalations mixed with vocalizations. Dean watched in fascination. He leaned down to lick some of the banana custard from Castiel. Cas gasped out a series of vowel sounds as if he were in pain. Dean wondered for a moment if he was.

Dean watched the lovely power he had over Castiel with each touch of his tongue on Cas. It was exciting knowing this powerful creature under him could kill him with a thought, and yet it was Dean and some custard pie filling that would make him meet his end in a wet, gooey mess—just not the same kind of end. Dean smirked.

"Hey, Cas?"

Cas dragged his consciousness back to the world where Dean held him in sway. He tried to focus his hazy lust clouded brain on the hunter, but was failing epically.

"Ca-as…" Dean smiled against the angel's stomach as he made his way toward those full lips. "We have so many other things to try. You gotta stay with me, buddy." Dean taunted.

Castiel nodded his head and swallowed the thick sensation in his throat. He tried to make any intelligible sound but every time he tried, Dean was licking his navel or kissing and biting his tender side. Dean found the whole idea that Cas was unable to speak greatly amusing. When Cas' head had cleared a bit because Dean was leaving him alone for the moment. Castiel nodded again and spoke with a harsh and gravelly two words sending sparks right down Dean's nervous system.

"Yes, Dean."

Until he was called to his grave, (for real and final time), Dean will always count those two words as the number one seduction line that will forever make him weak in the knees. Dean's hand fluttered in response. He decided that he was going to try something else now as well. He reached into his pile of items and pulled a bottle of warming lubricant. It was one he had walked away with on accident one night and he refused to use it. He didn't like the idea of anything getting hot near or on his junk. He squeezed a bit of the liquid onto his fingers. The warming didn't seem to do much to his fingers but he knew they weren't as sensitive as other parts. Castiel was allowing a good amount of experimentation here, so he thought he would tolerate this even if it caused discomfort.

He looked at the angel. He was looking directly at him with trust and faith in his eyes. Well, shit.

"Hey, Cas. This stuff is usually a chick thing… it might be uncomfortable. Still okay with me trying?" Dean looked at Cas before he did anything. Cas smiled and his eyes became lidded before he spoke in a ragged whisper.

"Yes, Dean."

Dean reached his face up to Cas for a quick kiss and then he settled down and gripped Cas' dick and sent one long stroke down with his fingers and palm lubricated with the chicky lube. The response was immediate. Castiel exhaled a shuttering breath that ended in a whispered "fuck". Dean exploded with a loud laugh which frightened Castiel. When Cas realized why Dean had suddenly had a detonation of jollity, he blushed and ducked his head.

"Oh, no you don't!" Dean said. "That was the most human I think I've ever heard you."

Castiel nodded and smiled in response. Dean watched again as another stroke of his fist elicited a similar but more subdued response. When he reached the bottom of the next stroke, Dean's hand continued down to smooth his palm over Cas' scrotum. He felt the pulling up of the fragile sack and watched it in fascination, listening to Cas' sounds of pleasure. The angel was practically speaking Enochian. Dean poured more of the liquid on his hand and he went even further. He had never done this to someone; even the more adventurous of his partners were reluctant to trust a one-night stand with this level of intimacy. He moved to slide his hand up the rounded seat of Cas' buttocks and through the cleft to discover the hole. He traced his fingers around the opening and watched the muscles' response to the teasing. Castiel was shaking from the effort to restrict his body's reaction. Dean looked at his face to be met with those eyes again. Cas was biting hard on his bottom lip and his chest was heaving. Dean smirked at him and without losing eye-contact, he pushed two fingers in the warmth of Cas' body. Cas arched upward and he panted a loud exclamation that sounded vaguely like Dean's name. He seemed to enjoy the sensation, so Dean thrust in and then out a couple of times to be met with a slightly less dynamic response but it was still worth the price of admission. When Cas was relaxed enough around Dean's fingers and he was able to endure the treatment and still maintain eye-contact, Dean added a third finger when he pulled the stroke out. Cas flung himself hard against the pillow and muffled his voice with his lip bleeding red between his teeth. Dean was concerned about the development, hoping Cas wasn't in any real pain. He moved up and adjusted his fingers to accommodate his body's movement. Castiel screamed out and grabbed at Dean when he did. The look on the angel's face was pure devotion and desire. Cas leaned forward to capture Dean's lips with his mouth. He whimpered and ground against him, finally losing control. Cas reached to Dean's hardened member and began to stroke him while Dean continued to thrust his fingers inside of Cas. Finally, Dean felt he had enough with play-time and jumped up and onto Castiel's body. He lifted Cas' hips and parted the cheeks so he had better access to Cas' entrance. He moved Cas' hand away from his penis and he gripped it briefly in order to line himself up with the hole. He thrust as soon as he felt the head touch the opening. He buried himself as far in as he could comfortably go and not needlessly harm his partner. Castiel screamed out loud and growled as he bucked against Dean.

Dean began to thrust and pull, holding his hands against Cas' hips, lifting as he pushed his own hip forward. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean as much as he could but kept losing his grip as shockwave after shockwave sent a tremor of uncontrollable frenzy through him. They were wild and there was no kind of rhythm or elegance to what they were doing. It was all instinct and sex drive. Finally, the pooling tension allowed them both to slow it down slightly and they looked into each other's eyes. Castiel took an even breath and held himself aloft so Dean could focus on a controlled cadence. He felt the need to reach out to Castiel and gripped his dick in his fist, to stroke in time with the thrusting. When he came close to his peak, the wild took over Dean again and he could only thrust. So, Castiel took over the stroking of his own erection. Their muffled and strained voices mixed together as they achieved their ends. Castiel erupted all over their chests and stomachs. Dean climaxed inside of Castiel when Cas' tightened muscles gripped him harder.

As the high of the endorphins saturated their brains, they collapsed against each other. Their voices were scratchy and ragged, but they didn't need to say a word to one another. They closed their eyes and tried to bring the rapid breaths and roaring heartbeats to heel. They fell asleep curled against each other.

When Castiel woke up, it was full dark. He didn't move from his position resting his cheek against Dean's chest. He felt his head rise and fall with the hunter's steady breaths. Cas wrinkled his nose at the smells he experienced, but he was warm and content to remain. He felt a tentative brush of fingers against his back. He felt goose bumps rise on his skin. His lips curled into a smile and he turned his face into the strong abs of his… boyfriend? It seemed an absurd word to describe what they had between them. He wasn't all that hung up on labels, but humans were hard-wired to categorize and sort people, things, events into pre-labeled packages. Cas rubbed his face against Dean's skin kissing him and lifted his face to peer at him.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean closed his eyes and chuckled at Cas. He inhaled deeply and wrinkled his nose. "Shower, Cas. Now. You reek, dude."

"Me? We have been rubbing each other and poking each other for nearly two days! We both reek."

Dean just laughed at that. He closed his eyes and relaxed his head back. Castiel leaned his head back down on Dean's chest. The rise and fall of Dean's breathing was relaxing and meditative. He could hear the thumping bellows of his strong heart and lungs. He felt himself drifting into bliss… even this long after the activity. He smiled again. He was happy.

The thought immediately sobered him. He wasn't meant to be happy. He was meant to redeem himself and help the Winchesters. He wasn't meant to be rewarded with happiness for his betrayal.

He rose from the warm nest and moved toward the bathroom.

"Where're you going?" came Dean's plaintive call when Cas moved away from him.

Cas looked at him as if he grew another head and looked toward the bathroom. Dean's eyes followed the direction Cas indicated. "Yeah, well, don't go flitting off without telling me you're leaving."

Dean sounded defensive. Tony's instructions came to mind. "If he's had such a rough year that his boyfriend is telling me thanks for making him smile, maybe you should work on that."

Castiel returned to the bed and gripped Dean's chin to turn his face towards him. The touch surprised Dean as did the intensity of the blue eyes that captivated him. "I'm not leaving until you send me away, Dean. I love you and I will remind you why you counted me a friend in the first place." Castiel sat on the edge of the bed. "I screwed up. I did regrettable things. It doesn't matter anymore that my intentions were pure. The result is what matters. I screwed up…" A gasping sob escaped Castiel as he bowed his head. "I don't deserve your forgiveness…" He sobbed more violently.

Dean wrapped his angel within the protective circle of his arms. He rocked him softly and inhaled the scent from his hair. His angel was alive, in his arms, after a night of sensual pleasure. He'd send God a fruit basket in the morning if he could. He could deal with the regrets and the recriminations later. He had shit to do. "Cas… come on man… I need you to shower and then come back in here. I'll… go find some clothes for you to wear, but you gotta promise you won't leave, okay?"

Cas wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded. He smirked up at Dean with watery eyes. "Yes, Dean."

Dean shook his head with laughter bubbling in his chest. "Friggen angel. Go. Now!"

Castiel rose and moved into the bathroom. He watched as Cas walked kinda funny. He smirked to himself and then pulled a hand down his face. He had no idea what he was going to do with Castiel, angel of Thursdays on a Saturday morning after having sex all day Friday.

When Dean got back from the errands he ran, he realized just how bad he smelled. Just being in a room that smelled of cigarettes was, apparently, enough to make all your clothes smell like cigarettes. Also, he had the stink of sex, banana crème pie that had been out all night, and El Sol beer all over him. He managed to find a "24-hour, Super-Whatever you wanna buy, we got it cheap" store in town. He managed to buy some dark slacks and jeans in Castiel's size. He bought a few t-shirts and two button down shirts, a package of socks, a package of underwear, a pre-paid phone, a duffle bag, shaving cream, a package of disposable razors, a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, brush, non-warming lube, condoms, and a pair of boots. He also bought a large box of protein bars, some sodas, bottled waters, and bing bongs. He stopped at the donut shop to pick up a dozen variety donuts and two black coffees. He grabbed up a bunch of sugar and cream packets in case Cas wanted them.

He was grumpy when he returned to the room because in his preoccupation with getting a starter hunter kit for Cas, he sort of forgot to watch out for cameras. And he lost his phone, so he picked up another one.

He walked into the room and found Castiel sitting naked and still on the edge of the bed with a patient half-smile on his face. Dean stood for a moment to really absorb what he was seeing. Cas was gorgeous. And he followed instructions. All other thoughts flew out the window. Good angel.

Dean cleared his throat and entered with the duffle slung over his shoulder and a pink box of donuts with a carrier containing the coffee perched on top. Castiel went to Dean to help relieve him of his burden. Dean smiled at the sight of naked angel meeting him at the door.

"Jeez, Cas. Let me close the door before you traumatize someone." Cas looked up at Dean, saw the glint of mischief and realized he was being teased.

"Let 'em look," he responded. "We can charge admission."

Dean blinked in shock. "Dude! You just made a comeback. Good job."

He handed the duffle to Cas. "All the things a growing angel slash hunter needs."

Cas began digging through the duffle and realized there were more than just a change of clothes in there. He turned to look at the back of the retreating hunter as he entered the bathroom. Castiel heard his voice through the closed door. "You better have saved some hot water for me."

When Dean emerged, clean, shaved, and hair brushed, Cas stared at him.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Am I your boyfriend?"

Dean stared at Cas with his mouth open and closing like a fish and his eyes wide and incredulous. Dean regarded Castiel for a moment before responding. "I don't know."

Castiel nodded and pulled on his new boots. He was tying them when Dean came over to sit next to him on the bed. He was just staring into space when Cas looked into his eyes.

"I have another question." Cas admitted.

Dean visibly winced. Cas ignored it. "When do we do laundry?"

Cas was sitting in the truck when Dean climbed in. "All the stuff is loaded. I sent some acid down the drains to kill any DNA. Did a full sweep so we didn't leave anything behind…" He looked over at Castiel. "Ready?"

Castiel nodded and handed a phone to Dean. Dean looked at it. "Oh, good. Thought I lost it!" He threw it in the cup holder and started the ignition.

"Where are we going?"

Dean thought about it. "Maybe we'll go to California."

Castiel considered all the possible motivations for the trip across the country. "Dick Roman?"

Dean stopped at the driveway before moving into traffic. He turned to look at Castiel seriously. "If you want out, this is a good place to go."

Castiel turned a hard gaze at Dean. He remembered the look from when they were still learning about each other and Cas saw everything as more or less a pissing match. "I'm not leaving."

"Well, all right then." Dean said and pulled onto the road.

A/N: This is the end of Part I. I have an idea for part II, but I haven't outlined it or anything. If I'm on your author alert list, you'll get it. I don't know when it will be out.

Did I do okay? I worried a little about the PoV change from Cas to Dean in a couple of places. You get why, right? Dean can be so fun to write when he's in a good mood.