(A/N: Okay, y'all, this is fairly angsty, more than I prefer, and it kind of went in a non-violent semi-non-con direction and then it kept going. Um... yeah... There are hints of consent, chances to stop that aren't taken, so... Uh... Also, graphic. And Cas did something, I don't even know if there's a word for that, but there's nothing new under the sun, right?

Oh, my Chuck! I swear, these two are turning me into a massive perv. Enjoy your smut. Love you, and take care of your mental health.

FW

[For more smut, see... well, mostly anything else I write.])

Castiel stood up from the table in the library when he heard the bunker door, and moved to the war room.

Sam backed through the door, his clothing soiled and torn, his strong back hunched as he dragged his heavy load.

Sam turned enough to look down to Castiel at the bottom of the stairs, the door still obscuring his bundle.

"Cas! Oh, thank god you're back!" Sam grunted, dragging the weight higher, Dean's head rolling into view on Sam's chest. "Can you help?"

Castiel went up the stairs quickly, lifting Dean's knees with one arm, closing the door with his free hand, and following Sam's backward movement down the staircase. "Where is Garth?"

"They got him... I have to get back out there, but I had to get Dean somewhere safe first. Lucky, right? Safest place in the world, only two miles off my route between town and this abandoned farm they're trying to hole up in." Sam stumbled slightly after they got to the floor, clutching his unconscious brother tighter as if it would help him stay upright. "Can you take care of him?"

Castiel dropped Dean's legs, letting his heavy boots hit the floor hard, reaching for his arm. Dean was bruised, bloody, and wearing more mud than Sam was, soggy and chilled. "Sam, are you sure you're fit to go?"

"Yeah, no, I'm just a little banged up. Dean, however, decided it would be a good idea to fall down a thirty foot outdoor stone staircase, through the ice on a frozen pond, and when he got out, the damn thing clocked him with a flower pot."

"A flower pot?"

"Yeah." Sam breathed easier as Castiel pulled Dean's weight from his arms. "Are you going to be okay? You can handle him?"

"It'll be fine, Sam. I'll call if there are any problems."

Sam gave Castiel an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he headed back to the door at top speed.

As it closed behind him, Castiel dragged Dean's arm over his shoulder, and started for the unconscious man's room.

Halfway down the hall, Dean began coming around. "Stop it, Sammy, I can walk."

"No, you can't, Dean." Castiel responded. "And Sam isn't here."

Dean threw his other arm up, grabbing blindly at Castiel, grazing the side of his face before finding his lapel. "Where is he?!"

"He just left, he had to go get Garth."

"No." Dean shook his head, "Call him, tell him to wait. I'll be fine in a minute."

"You will not be fine in several minutes, Dean. Days, perhaps. I promised Sam I would look after you. Please cooperate." Castiel said firmly.

"But he's coming back, right?" Dean wobbled, trying to get his feet to work with the floor. "He's coming back?"

"If he doesn't come back within a reasonable time, I will lock you in a closet and retrieve him. You have my word." Castiel said.

Dean swayed, looking down at his clothes, making Castiel struggle to keep him upright. "Where'd all this mud come from?"

Castiel shook his head. "Sam said you fell down an outdoor staircase. Do you remember it?"

"Stairs... Yeah, there was stairs in the side of the hill at the rich guy's house... don't remember falling down 'em, though..."

"That's alright. First we need to get you clean and see how bad your injuries are."

Dean changed direction slightly.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked, feeling Dean trying to pull away.

"I'm going to the shower."

"You can't stand."

"Then I'll sit down. Doesn't matter... Why am I cold?"

Castiel shrugged, and allowed the change in direction. "Sam said you fell into a frozen pond."

Hobbling into the shower room, Castiel lowered Dean to a bench near a set of cabinets that likely served as lockers for Men of Letters living in the bunker years past.

Dean leaned forward reaching for his boots, but grabbed at the side of his head. "Oh, bad idea."

"Hold still." Castiel said, catching his shoulders and tilting him back against the wall. He quickly removed Dean's boots and socks, and stood again, dragging the soaked jacket from his arms, the wet fabric taking the flannel with it.

Dean moved to take his tshirt off, his balance nearly dropping him from the bench as Castiel caught him by the arms again. "Dean, if you succeed in falling over, you'll only be making your concussion worse."

"Dude, just get me to the shower, I can handle it." Dean slurred.

Castiel put a hand to Dean's forehead. "You're very cold. I'm not sure how you're conscious."

"Right..." Dean shoved himself off the bench and nearly succeeded in standing, but Castiel caught him as he began to fall.

With the jacket removed, Dean was warming enough to begin to shiver violently. Castiel dragged the tshirt over Dean's head and reached for the button on his jeans.

"Hey!..." he paused, shaking from the cold, "Cut it out, man."

Castiel gave an exasperated sigh. "I raised you from hell, Dean. I saw every part of you when I regrew your skin on your body. If you don't cooperate, I'll give you a graphic description of what you look like without eyelids."

Dean shuddered, and Castiel wasn't sure if it was due to a lack of body heat, or at the idea he'd planted, but when he reached for Dean's jeans a second time, Dean only braced himself on Castiel's arms.

Dean shook harder, and spoke haltingly, "I got mud on you... Sorry."

"It's fine." Castiel replied, "You're injured."

"Are you, um.. you getting in, too?"

"I suppose I'll have to, as you keep trying to stand." Castiel said, lowering Dean to the bench again.

Castiel stripped down to his boxers quickly, as Dean continued to shake. He'd left Dean's briefs on, in an attempt to keep him from struggling, but the dark fabric was just as soaked as the rest of his clothes, and clung to every line in a most distracting manner.

"Was Sam okay?" Dean asked with a hint of delirium.

"Sam seemed to be fine." Castiel said, "I'm going to start the water, don't move."

Dean shook, hard, the tremors getting worse. "Yeah, I can't... I'll wait here."

Castiel stepped into the shower and turned the water to a setting he knew would soon be warm, and returned to find Dean holding his arms around his midsection, making as little contact with the cold tile wall behind him as possible.

Dean looked miserable and helpless as Castiel quickly pulled him from the bench, wrapping an arm around Dean's bare shoulders and feeling him lean into him. Castiel led him into the shower, checking the temperature quickly before depositing him on the floor in the hot spray.

Dean ran a shaky hand through his hair, dislodging more mud, and cringing as he found a large goose-egg where the flower pot had hit him. Thin purple lines were beginning to form at random over his body, likely due to the stairs, Castiel reasoned.

Castiel reached for a nearby shelf, taking a bottle of the brand of shampoo he'd seen many times in Dean's bag in many hotel rooms throughout the years, and carefully began to lather Dean's hair. Dean tilted his head back to keep it out of his eyes, and Castiel couldn't help but notice the way the water ran over Dean's lips. He avoided the contusion and a gash near Dean's hairline, but soon had the rest of the mud gone.

Returning the bottle to the shelf, and about to bring Dean the bar of soap he'd asked for, Castiel took a quick glance down, and was immediately thankful Dean hadn't been paying attention. The lightweight pale fabric of his boxers, now drenched, was nearly see-through, and did nothing to hide his growing arousal.

Thankful Dean's back was to him, he approached again, giving Dean's shoulder a quick pat to get his attention and passing him the bar. "I'm going to get some towels, don't get up."

Dean only nodded in response, taking the bar from him.

Castiel went back to the cabinets, finding a large stack of soft towels in one, and risked another glance downward. This wasn't the first time, not by a long shot, simply the first time he'd been unable to hide it. Normally it had to do with the long looks Dean would give him, or the sexual connotations of an insult, normally met with Castiel's own unspoken thoughts of impropriety, but this time, it was something else.

He silently cursed himself for feelings of lust toward an injured and possibly ill brother-in-arms, but the thought still echoed in the back of his mind that if he chose to act on those physical inclinations, Dean would not be able to stop him.

He willed his body to cooperate, and stripped off the wet boxers, drying himself and wrapping the towel around his waist. He tucked another towel under his arm, and went back to the shower.

Dean held up the soap, and was clearly done with it, so Castiel put it back on the shelf, rinsed the residue from his hand, and shut off the water, all while avoiding the spray. He passed Dean the folded towel, and made certain his own was secure before helping him stand.

The water had helped some, but hadn't raised Dean's body temperature quite to where it needed to be. Castiel helped Dean to put the towel around him, reaching below it to peel off the briefs he still wore, trying to ignore the way Dean leaned into him once again.

Dean was shaking harder now, without the water to confuse his nerves, chilled to the core. Castiel hurried him through the hallway to his room, well aware of the cool air in the underground bunker.

Castiel opened the door of Dean's room, one arm firmly around him. "You're really warm, Cas."

"Yes. Grace often has that effect on a vessel." Castiel answered, getting Dean to the side of his bed.

Castiel pulled the blankets back, and took the towel from Dean, his decency losing the battle to his thirsty eyes as he dropped Dean gently into the bed, and pulled the blankets back over him.

Dean shook harder wrapped in the cold sheets. "Can you get in with me? Just for a bit?"

"Dean, you had enough of an issue allowing me to remove your pants."

"C'mon, Cas, I just need to get warm." Dean said plaintively.

Reluctantly, Castiel nodded, and moved to the other side of the bed, getting in next to him, leaving his towel on.

Dean rolled over, curling against Castiel's side, still suffering from the chill. Castiel put an arm around him, which seemed to make him shake less, but only served to reignite the impulses he'd barely contained before.

"Hey... do I have to stay awake? How hard did I hit my head?" Dean drawled sleepily.

"You were hit with a flower pot." Castiel answered, trying to ignore the feeling of Dean's lips moving against the skin of his shoulder as he spoke. It wasn't working well.

"But Sam was okay?" Dean asked again.

Castiel felt himself twitch. "He was well enough to get you inside the bunker, and ask me to take you."

Dean shifted slightly as Castiel kicked himself mentally for his choice of words, surrendering mentally to the image of Dean in the throes of passion.

Dean rolled his head back a bit from Castiel's shoulder, adjusting for the knot on his scalp.

"Stop moving, Dean. You need to rest."

"I can't... Too cold."

Castiel felt a form of self hatred building within him. It brought anger with it.

"Wait... Garth was with us..." Dean mumbled. "What happened?"

Castiel resisted the urge to growl. "Please stop talking."

Dean opened his eyes. "Why are you so bitchy? You're not the one freezing your balls off. Get laid, it's good for you."

Castiel snapped, and tightened his arms around Dean, coming up onto an elbow to get enough height to disable any attempt to resist him. He pressed his lips hard against Dean's, nudging his mouth open and slipping his tongue inside as Dean realized what was happening and started to push him away.

"I didn't mean with me, Cas!" Dean sputtered. "Pick up a chick once in a while. Or some guy that's into it. Get off me."

"I can't. Your core body temperature is still quite low. In conjunction with your concussion, you're quite vulnerable right now, and as I can't heal your concussion, the next best option would be to raise your temperature naturally."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"Well, while I can think of several ways to provide you with heat from my own body, only a few would directly affect your internal organs." Castiel said, still refusing Dean's physical attempts to remove him.

Dean's eyes went wider as the gears turned in his unwell brain. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Not yet." Castiel answered dryly. "I assume you'll notice when I do."

Dean struggled under Castiel's weight. "Not funny, Cas."

"Tell me don't want it. Tell me that every time I've seen you staring at me, nothing sexual was running through your mind." Castiel demanded. "And keep in mind, I know when you're lying, and I will punish you for it."

Dean swallowed hard as a tremor shivered through him again. "Don't."

Castiel rolled his eyes, and brushed his lips against Dean's lips again. "If you had any idea how repressed you are..."

Dean squirmed, "Cas, please. Don't do this."

"Dean, calm down." Castiel said. "You know perfectly well an angel can't enter your body without permission."

"Yeah, but you did, with your tongue just now, so that's not reassuring me any. Let go." Dean pleaded.

Castiel furrowed his brow, looking into Dean's eyes. "You aren't telling me to stop."

"Cas, let go of me." Dean shivered again.

Castiel dropped his head, kissing him again, this time softer. "Tell me to stop."

"Cas, please." Dean mumbled.

"That could be interpreted as encouragement." Castiel said, shifting his legs, feeling the towel slip from his body under the blankets, bringing his body further above Dean's.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean asked.

Castiel licked across Dean's bottom lip. "Because I want to."

"And what about what I want?"

"You want to get warm, I'm helping. You still haven't told me to stop. Why?" Castiel asked, moving to drag his lips along Dean's neck.

After Dean was silent for a moment, Castiel unwound an arm, bringing his hand up to Dean's face. "Could be that you want this..."

"I don't want this." Dean's voice broke.

"You're lying to me." Castiel replied. "Try again."

"I don't swing that way." Dean said softly.

"Still lying." Castiel said, "Last chance."

"I'm not into you." Dean said.

Castiel grasped Dean, finding him already half hard, making him gasp. "The truth, Dean." he growled.

"I'm afraid." Dean answered.

Castiel could feel it, the tone of his words. Echoing in the ethereal plane, lies always fell flat, but true statements carried with them a vibration, literally ringing.

Castiel lowered his head to Dean's shoulder, allowing his warm, bare body to sink against Dean's. He could feel Dean's heartbeat slowing, and tensed muscles easing, finding comfort in the warm touch of Castiel's whole body.

"Are you afraid of me?" Castiel asked quietly.

Dean shook his head.

Castiel felt Dean swell in his hand, and began to squeeze him in rhythm with his heartbeat. Dean was choking down each moan and possible gasp, looking away and trying to keep silent.

"Dean..." Castiel said, seeking his gaze, "Kiss me."

Dean gave a small shake of his head.

Castiel ran his thumb over Dean's tip, watching as Dean closed his eyes. "Kiss me."

Dean's breathing was getting heavier, but he still looked away.

Castiel brought his other hand to the side of Dean's neck. "Dean, kiss me. We both know you want this. I'm only giving you what you want."

"You're touching me, and you won't get off me, and I didn't say you could do that." Dean said quietly.

"How many strangers have to taken to your bed seeking the same comfort I'm offering you now?" Castiel asked, "What's the difference if you receive the same affections from me?"

Dean was silent, still refusing to look at him. Castiel moved to kiss him again, but Dean turned his head away.

Castiel took a few breaths to reevaluate his next course of action before moving to Dean's neck, the movement dragging his body along Dean's skin. He carefully worked his lips and tongue along the tender flesh, grazing soft places with his teeth as he squeezed Dean's erection.

Dean swallowed a hard moan, and struggled. Castiel brought his hand to the side of Dean's face, turning him to meet his eyes. "Kiss me."

Dean gave the tiniest fearful shake of his head.

"Kiss me or I'll stop." Castiel took his hands off of Dean entirely, bringing them to the bed on either side of Dean's shoulders.

"Cas..." Dean started, only to give a helpless shrug.

Keeping his gaze, Castiel shifted to get between Dean's bare legs, a clumsy mess of skin, both of them hard and wanting, and gave a slow, gentle grind against him, making Dean whimper.

Dean steeled himself like a soldier going to battle and raised his head, just brushing his lips against Castiel's, before making a second, still timid attempt.

Castiel closed his eyes against the shy physical confession. He leaned down, kissing Dean more insistently, bringing his hands back to Dean's skin.

Dean whimpered slightly as Castiel shifted his weight, his hips changing angles.

Castiel lifted himself onto his elbows, and stroked his fingers down Dean's cheek. "What are you afraid of?"

Dean looked away before attempting to kiss Castiel again. Castiel pulled further back, dodging him. "Tell me."

Dean put his head down on the pillow, looking away again. "I can't do this... I can't... I'll lose you."

Castiel turned Dean's face to him again, catching a hint of dampness from the corner of his eye. "You won't."

"Every time, Cas... Nobody stays. They die, or they live long enough to get sick of me, and they leave me... I can't, not with you."

Castiel answered him with a deep, passionate kiss. "You can... You can want this, and you can accept this affection from me. I won't leave you."

Dean looked away again. "I can't let you."

Castiel felt another shiver below him, and ducked his head to Dean's neck once more. "You don't have to."

Dean shook in an effort not to moan as Castiel's hands began to wander his flesh, lips wet against his collarbone, hips grinding against him. Castiel found his mouth again and despite Dean's attempts to turn away, kissed him forcefully, drawing a few gasping breaths as he released him.

Castiel put as much weight as he could on his hips, causing Dean to bite his lip and tilt his head back, lifting his chest off Dean's, dragging the soft pads of his fingers down Dean's chest, catching at his hardened nipples before continuing down his ribs.

He stilled, feeling Dean's hardness twitch against his bare skin, and waited until Dean's eyes found his.

Castiel adjusted both of them, fitting them together against each other, between their stomachs, and keeping Dean's gaze, ran his tongue thickly over his palm. He lowered it to cup both of their tips together, and moved it much like chalk over the tip of a pool cue. "I've thought about this many times, Dean. It's never failed to cause a physical reaction for me. However actually having you here is surpassing my expectations."

Dean shook harder, far more than just the cold would account for, as Castiel kissed him again, moaning.

"Dean... please... let me hear you."

Dean shook his head, choking on a gasp. His voice was strained, "hh... I didn't say you could touch me, mn... I'm not going encourage you."

Castiel did his best to keep his frustration in check. He knew Dean's reasons well, the man often wore his heartache written on his face, but his resistance still made Castiel's blood burn.

With an angry look, bringing what he was sure was fear to Dean's eyes, he quickly shoved back, the blankets pulling down as he went, exposing Dean's body to the cold air, and taking him immediately into his hot, wet, mouth.

Dean gasped out and moaned loudly, as he started to move. "Cas, please! Please, don't! MMMCAS!"

Castiel listened closely, and all too soon, heard Dean carefully regulating his breathing, going silent, and looking anywhere but down. He slowly pulled away, leaving Dean dripping wet, pausing to blow a cool breath over his tip, making him twitch.

Dean meet his eyes for brief second, and Castiel was back on top of him, grinding once more. "Why are you fighting me?"

Dean shivered. "Where did that come from?"

"I learned it from the babysitter."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Can you just stop?"

"I will, but you'll have to demand it of me."

Their skin now slipping against each other more freely, Castiel moved a little faster.

Dean swallowed. "I bet you'd listen, too."

"I would, Dean. I will stop if you demand it of me."

Castiel felt a twisting heat building within him.

"Cas, will you just stop this, please?" Dean asked, his voice shaken, but not nearly broken enough.

"That... that is a supplication. I want a demand."

Dean took a few deep breaths, his ability to control his urges proving well past what Castiel expected. "Fuck it. Do whatever you're going to do, I'm not going to get off. Not with you molesting me like this."

Castiel's first urge was to strike him. "There is no other way you would accept it from me, Dean. And you still haven't told me to stop."

"Eventually, you're gonna give up. I've had plenty of practice holding back, Cas, this isn't something you can force out of me, not now. It's a matter of time. I'm not going to let you." Dean said softly.

Castiel got upright onto his knees, taking himself in one hand, Dean in the other, and working both their erections in a simultaneous rhythm, as Dean grasped at the bed, working on his breathing, trying to hold back. Castiel looked up to find him looking at the wall again, his lower lip between his teeth, skin flushed.

Castiel pulled firmly at himself, and slowed his ministrations on Dean, bringing his thumb to the head of Dean's twitching cock, and bringing his own closer.

At the last moment, Castiel used his thumb and forefinger to spread Dean's tip, pressing his own to it as hard as he could.

Dean looked up when he realized what was happening, a flash of fear crossing his face, then giving a deep, uncontrolled moan as a few drops of Castiel's hot seed entered him, the rest spilling over his engorged member.

Castiel gripped Dean tightly in his right hand, coating him, before slicking two fingers on his left as well. He leaned down, giving Dean's head a slow, open mouthed lick as he penetrated him with his fingers before grasping him tight and laying down on top of him once more.

Dean was shaking hard now, and Castiel had no intention of getting him to stop.

"Kiss me," Castiel said harshly, "You want to know."

Dean shook his head, and Castiel immediately curled his fingers and tightened his hand, making Dean buck hard against him.

"I told you to kiss me." Castiel repeated, relentless. "Do it."

Dean claimed Castiel's mouth with his own, his tongue searching out the taste of him. Castiel moaned softly. Dean's hands came to rest on Castiel's upper arms, giving the occasional squeeze, as his hips shook slightly as he fought to keep still.

"Dean," Castiel spoke gently, "Please, let yourself move. You want this. Take your pleasure from me."

Castiel saw something in Dean's eyes, some form of emotional upheaval. "Cas, I..."

Castiel answered him with a nod, and tightened his hand, working hard at Dean's body, running his thumb over the tip. His fingers shifted against him within, echoing each thrust of his hand. "Dean... I will stay with you... I won't leave you..."

Dean's legs closed on Castiel's body involuntarily, as if to keep him close, as a quiet moan escaped him. "Cas, please... I asked you not to do this."

"You did."

"You'll leave me."

"I won't."

Dean's voice was quickly becoming wrecked, overcome emotionally and physically, broken by suppressed moans and gasps. "... always happens... mmm-can't... don't... Cas, please... can't lo-"

Dean gasped and shook hard, fighting every inch of the way, as the flames within his body overtook him. "CAS! AHHH!"

Castiel felt Dean's body give in, betraying him, knowing full well he'd caused it.

Dean opened his eyes, staring at Castiel, sitting between his raised thighs, a gentle hold on his softening member, fingers still inside of him, his spray evident on Castiel's chest, beginning to run down his abs. Even going limp, the sight of him made Dean twitch.

Castiel held eye contact as he delicately removed his fingers, reaching for the towel that had fallen from his hips in the blankets, passing it over the few drops that had fallen on Dean's body. He ran his finger over Dean's tip, making him shake, and then across the spray on his chest, before bringing it to his mouth, cleaning off the rest with the towel.

Dean met Castiel's eyes and quickly looked away as he lay down on Dean's body, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Dean... Dean, look at me, please..." Castiel whispered in the silent room, waiting until he complied, meeting his eyes. "You didn't give me your consent... will you give me your forgiveness?"

Dean studied Castiel's face. "Cas, you had that the whole time."

"I need to hear it." Castiel pleaded.

"I forgive you." Dean said in a quiet, clear voice. "Just don't leave me."

"I won't, Dean... but the next time, will you-"

Dean shook his head. "You can have my forgiveness. All the forgiveness you want."

Castiel looked crestfallen. "This won't happen again, Dean. It was a mistake... but I still won't leave you."

Dean relaxed into Castiel's arms. "You promise you won't leave me? And you won't take advantage of me when I'm hurt again?"

"Both. I swear it." Castiel answered.

Dean ran a shaky hand up Castiel's back. "Then, maybe when I don't have a fucking brain injury, we could try again... you know you're not supposed to do that shit with a concussion?"

Castiel looked confused. "Why didn't you make me stop?"

"Forgiveness."

"Dean,-"

Dean nuzzled closer. "Shhhh... I'm going to sleep, now... If I get hard, I'm probably dreaming about you coming down my dick again... touching is okay, shaking me is not, got it?"

Castiel nodded solemnly, and accepted the kiss Dean gave him.