Dean stood alone, his brother and Bobby still inside the motel room, getting ready to wind down for the night. The hunter only hoped they weren't playing cards or poker after their recent run-in with a 900 year old witch, an Irish man named Patrick with a beautiful lady by his side. Dean smiled when he thought of the lady, how she'd helped him out, gave him access to the spell to reverse the changes made to his body.
Even though he hadn't known the reasons behind why she'd done what she did, other than it had something to do with a locket strung around her neck, he'd been grateful. Sam had later filled him in on the reason behind her actions; she'd missed her family, had had to bury her daughter, who'd looked like a grandmother when she'd died.
Dean felt grateful to her; without her, he'd be dead. He still remembered all too clearly the acid reflux when trying to eat a burger, the sciatica he'd suffered while trying to dig, the breathlessness he'd felt when climbing only two flights of stairs. He remembered again the feeling of laying on the ground, breath slowly easing from his body, the world receding as his heart slowly gave out, feeling hopeless and alone.
His last thought had been of Castiel; not Sam, not Bobby, but Castiel. He wanted the angel to be there by his side, to comfort him as he went on the longest journey he'd ever make in his life, yet he hadn't been there. Dean had been alone and had felt that loneliness like a knife wound to the soul.
The next thing he'd known he was alive; strangely, inexorably alive, breathing, invigorated and full of life, back once again in his 30 year old body. He'd climbed unsteadily to his feet, uncertain, wondering if this was a trick perpetrated by Patrick, to mock him before his last breath once more. When nothing happened and he'd managed to climb down the stairs the same as he ever did - without breathlessness, without weakness in his legs - he knew he was out of the woods and safe.
He remembered again sitting in front of Bobby, telling the older hunter that despite his wheelchair bound status, he was the closest thing to family Sam and he had left to them. He didn't want to see Bobby die by his own hand; he was needed, wanted, loved like a father to his sons, meant so much more to them than a man in a wheelchair.
Dean had seen the gratitude in Bobby's eyes, the sudden feeling that Bobby was invigorated with new life once again, that he'd been given a reason to live. Dean had smiled when Bobby had insisted they leave before they grew lady parts. He'd taken Bobby's advice, after leaving his burger behind. He didn't want to feel the effects of too much cholesterol clogging his system for a very long time to come. Even so, he wondered himself how long his stint away from burgers would last.
"Give me three weeks," Dean murmured to himself, with a small chuckle.
He sighed, turned away and found himself face to face with Castiel, lips so close to his own, Dean was tempted to close the gap between them and kiss the angel. He stared at the angel's lips, that looked as soft as ever, licked his own lips, before dragging his eyes up to Castiel's forthright blue ones. The angel was so close, Dean could feel his breath tickling against his chin, could feel the heat from Castiel's body washing over his own, could almost taste the sudden arousal hanging thick and heavy between them.
He propped his hands on Castiel's hips, saw Castiel's eyes crinkle into a sudden smile at the corners, before he finally closed the gap between them and kissed him. Castiel felt so good, tasted even better than he remembered; was so alive, vital, and strong. Dean murmured his approval when Castiel responded, full lips working against his own gently, hands pressing firmly against Dean's chest.
"Dean," Castiel murmured against Dean's lips, when the kiss ended.
"How did you find me, Cas?" Dean asked, voice gentle, inviting, wanted to seduce Castiel even though he knew the angel was already his.
"Sam told me. He also told me what happened. I felt it, Dean," Castiel said, breaking eye contact to stare up at the stars, lips pressed frimly together in a stretched line.
"Felt what?" Dean asked, not quite sure as to what Castiel was trying to get at.
"You. I felt you, almost dying," Castiel murmured, running hands over Dean's chest as though checking to see if his heart still had a pulse.
"I thought you couldn't sense us since you marked us with those Enochian sigil things - which are very nice by the way, very pretty," Dean said, shooting a typically snarky reply at the angel.
Castiel didn't take any notice, as usual, eyes blinking owlishly in the night.
"Usually I can't sense you, but then I could. I felt you struggle, heard you calling for me at the last, then you were gone but I knew you weren't dead," Castiel replied, brow furrowing as he thought over the last twenty four hours. "I'm glad."
Dean remained quiet at that, didn't know what to say to Castiel when he was being so honest, was laying himself bare for him. Now Dean understood how Bobby had felt when Dean had told him what he meant to Dean and his brother. The tables were now being turned on him.
Dean pulled Castiel into a hug, smiled when Castiel laid his head upon his shoulder, breath whuffling out against Dean's exposed neck. He felt Castiel's fingers trace sigils onto his back, warm, tickling lines left with every sweep and pass of his hand. Dean felt his heart aching, knew it wasn't angina or anything connected to old age. Instead he knew it was love.
Even though he found it hard to say he loved Castiel, he knew that Castiel knew that he did; tried to prove it with actions rather than words, with every kiss, every hug, every last thing he did for Castiel. It was the same for Dean; even though Castiel hadn't exactly said he loved Dean; Dean knew it anyway, for the same reasons. He could see it in the angel's eyes, with every movement that Castiel made when they were together, could feel it in every kiss, every cuddle, every tender touch and caress. There was mutual respect there he'd never expected to find, mutual love that he knew he'd be a fool to throw away and mess up. He didn't want this to end, even though he'd almost lost it through no fault of his own that day.
He leant down slightly, claimed Castiel's mouth with his own, slipped in his tongue when he felt Castiel open up for him expectantly, brought Castiel in closer to his own body. He felt the familiar press and dig of Castiel's erection, smiled around the kiss when he realized Castiel wanted him, was ready to go.
Dean broke the kiss, led Castiel away out of sight, winking at him when Castiel looked at him hopefully. The angel smiled his mysterious smile back at him, eyes tracking every movement Dean made, tongue sweeping out to capture the last of Dean's kisses still tingling against his lips. Dean ducked inside a graveyard, tucked themselves out of view of stray passers-by, pawing at Castiel's responsive, warm body, forestalling the angel's inevitable protests of desecrating a graveyard by kissing him urgently.
The moon shone down upon the graveyard, smiling down upon the serried ranks of cold marble gravestones, silently praying angels, wings outspread as they stared sightlessly down at the still kissing couple. Castiel shifted against the familiar ache of an erection bulging against the front of his pants, throbbing with the need for release. He was gratified by the sudden feel of Dean's palm enclosing his straining dick, rubbed sensuously against him. Castiel broke the kiss, turned blind eyes up towards the star speckled sky, kiss swollen lips gasping for air as he thrust his dick against Dean's questing hand, moans of growing want, mounting need pushing past plump lips eagerly.
Dean watched him, had never seen Castiel unravel this far before, had never seen the angel in such abandonment and the hunter felt as though he was falling in love with Castiel even more. His body ached to feel Castiel, his bare skin beneath his own. He ached to steal kisses from his mouth, his sweat soaked body, needed to feel Castiel wrapped tightly around him as he thrust deep inside the angel, filling him up and claiming him as his.
"Dean," Castiel sighed out, breath fogging slightly in the air above him, his pupils blown wide with desire.
He didn't protest when Dean unzipped his pants, slid his hand into his boxers, wrapped eager fingers around Castiel's erection, the silky feel of sensitive skin in direct contrast to the tension held beneath. The angel cried out; his guttural moans and glass-fragile cries so shimmering and beautiful, Dean longed to hear them loud against his ear, longed to hear Castiel scream for him, come for him, unravel still further and all for him.
He stroked Castiel's dick, fingers knowledgeable, eager, knowing through practice what Castiel liked, what he didn't like, where to touch to really make the angel react. Castiel writhed beneath him, thoughts no longer coherent as he fucked his cock into Dean's stroking hand, orgasm pulling, pushing, twisting his insides until he felt like he was going to burst from the pressure.
His hips rose from the ground, fell, rose, fell in a sinuous rhythm that made Dean groan with need, his dick throbbing with the ache of need of release. He needed to be inside Castiel, had to fill him up and move inside him, fill him with his seed amidst declarations and actions of love. He waited, watched until Castiel's expression changed, eyes wider still, mouth hanging loose as he came closer to climax. The angel's breath came hard and fast, his hips fucking harder against Dean's hand, until finally, finally he came, released his come in thick spurts over Dean's hand, into his own boxers, waves of bliss coursing through him as he whimpered and moaned for Dean.
Castiel stared up at the night sky, only peripherally aware that Dean was stripping him of his dark pants, taking off his own heavy jeans, boxers soon following suit. The angel moaned, angled his legs wider letting Dean settle between them comfortably, covering Castiel's body with his own and settling into him further. Castiel felt Dean tease him, rub his erection between his ass cheeks, across his tight hole, made Castiel whimper and buck against the hunter's body.
Dean chuckled, murmured - "You like that, huh? Pushy bottom."
Castiel didn't reply, head lolling to the side to stare blindly at a toppled concrete angel laying on the ground beside them. He reached for it, fingers touching one outstretched stone wing as he felt Dean ease one spit slick finger into his tight hole. His back arched against Dean, feeling the twist of pain coil through him at the intrusion; felt Dean wait until his muscles relaxed around his finger.
Dean watched Castiel, as he breached him still further, sliding his finger deeper into his lover, easing him wider, looser, stretching him so that he could fill him all the more easily. Castiel murmured unintelligibly when Dean found his prostate, rubbing over the tight mound inside him, making shimmering shoots of pleasure coil through his lover's body with every sweep and pass of his finger.
Dean soon added another finger, stretching Castiel wider still, smiling at the constant mewls of panting pleasure purling from Castiel's ripe mouth. Dean couldn't hold back any longer, needed to fuck Castiel now, so withdrew his fingers, much to Castiel's purling disappointment.
Dean hastily smoothed saliva over his dick, shudders of pleasure working through him as he worked his hand over his erection. He wanted to come, needed to come, but it was too early. He wanted release when he was snug inside Castiel not before. He pressed his head against Castiel's tight little hole, grunted with effort when he breached him, waited for the initial pain and burn to pass, for Castiel to loosen around him. Finally, when Castiel had settled out around him, Dean sheathed his dick fully inside him, groaning at the silky velvet feel of Castiel surrounding him, tight dry heat snug against his skin. Dean started moving inside Castiel, hips moving in steady, strong sweeps against his lover, driving his dick inside Castiel sensuously.
Castiel moaned, voice ragged, broken, shaking, as his hands clutched Dean's ass, pressing against him in an attempt to push Dean further inside him, moaning encouragements to just fuck him hard. Dean picked up the pace, hips slamming against Castiel's eagerly as the hunter spiralled out of control, orgasm racking his body as he released his spunk inside Castiel in thick spurts.
He felt, heard Castiel frantically jerking off beneath him, felt Castiel's come wet upon his abdomen when the angel finally found release, before their bodies slowed, stilled, leaving the two lovers staring intently into each other's eyes, Dean's dick still sheathed tight inside Castiel. Their breath mingled in cloudy bursts, skin shivering and goose pimpled with the chill in the air, but Dean wanted more, wanted to take Castiel again.
The angel smiled slightly, saw Dean's need for more deep within his lover's gaze, so waited until Dean started moving inside him again. He moaned against the feel of Dean inside him, filling him with his dick, then his seed once more. Castiel covered his hand, Dean's abdomen with his own release as Dean finally eased his soft member from Castiel's ass gently.
They kissed, tongues heavy in each other's mouths as they fucked each other's mouths eagerly, hands travelling insistently over each other's bodies, pawing, insistent groans and muttered moans as they shared their time together.
Dean nuzzled Castiel's neck, teeth nipping at musky scented skin, tongue lapping just above Castiel's collar, before he kissed the spot where Castiel's vessel's heart still beat. Dean sighed, pulled back, wondered whether Jimmy would have approved of Castiel's and his frantic coupling and decided that it was okay. Jimmy needed release as much as Dean did, as much as Castiel himself did, and the angel was in control now. Dean guessed that Castiel had made his peace with Jimmy some time ago, paving the way for Dean to take him as often as he wanted, as often as Castiel wanted him to. He smiled when Castiel stared askance at him, shook his head as though seeking sanctuary from his own thoughts, before he kissed Castiel gently on his full, soft mouth.
The angel wrapped his arms protectively around Dean's hips, mouth working against Dean's, a purr of pleasure working deep within his throat. He angled his side, invited Dean to deepen the kiss, smiled when the hunter took the bait, opened his mouth to Dean's questing tongue. His chest rose and fell, thoughts drifting to the graveyard they'd just desecrated, put the thoughts from his mind firmly. As long as he was with Dean, the youthful Dean he knew and loved, had pulled from Hell all those months ago, then all was fine.
Everything was fine as long as they were together ....
-fini-