Things had been tense for a long time ever since Cas came back. After the Leviathans had been taken care of – not without casualties, for there were many – but months after everything had calmed down again, Dean and Sam had gone back to simply hunting. And one night, without any warning or sign, the angel came back. One moment it was just Sam and Dean in the Impala, the next there was a soft flutter of wings and a gentle "Hello Dean."
Dean nearly crashed he was so startled. So scared, so disbelieving. But there he was, just as Dean remembered him. Soft blue eyes, faintest shadow of stubble across his jaw and around his lips, dark hair sticking up at odd angles. Sam's expression was worried, worried for Dean's sake, but Dean didn't say anything. He just drove them all back to the hotel they were staying at, and covered for a room for Cas.
Dean didn't know how to feel. He had spent months trying to get over Cas, and just when the wound was barely starting to heal, he comes back. Ripping apart all the progress Dean had made. Dean had never let the heartache show on his face though; no chick flick moments, that was the rule. But that didn't change the fact that everything he saw reminded him of Castiel. All of the nights Dean spent sleeplessly pacing in his room, all the cold mornings when he'd go down to the Impala and simply run the material of the angel's trench coat in his hands, all the hours spent running through memory after memory – the first time seeing Castiel walk towards him in a shower of fire and sparks, the first time Castiel came to him in a dream, both of them surveying the peaceful waters before them in the late summer evening, the first time Cas pushed him up against the wall and kissed him, both of their bodies crying out for each other, the scar on Dean's shoulder throbbing – all of that now meant nothing. All of the mourning and grieving, nothing. The angel was back.
Dean was lying back on his bed, palms pressed to his heavy eyelids, enjoying the cool darkness his hands provided. He was scared, now that Cas was back. What did he even say to the angel? Dean had dreamed and begged for days on end for the angel to come back. For any God there may be to give Cas a second chance. And when there was no answer, no sign that someone was listening to him, Dean resigned himself to the crushing reality that Cas really was gone this time. And now the angel ruined that peace for him.
"Hello Dean."
Dean ripped his hands away from his face and sat up, heart pounding in his chest with adrenaline. Cas was standing there in just his black suit, sans trench coat. It looked odd, to see him without the worn down coat hanging off his body. Dean didn't say anything – couldn't say anything – he just stared at the angel, green eyes dark.
"What?"
And then there was that damn head tilt, blue eyes puzzled as his eyebrows drew up in an unknown hurt. It was so familiar that Dean wanted to laugh. But he couldn't. Because the angel was supposed to be gone. No longer a part of Dean's life. And here he was, disturbing his peace.
"I believe you have something of mine."
Dean drew back in his own confusion for a moment, having no idea what the angel was talking about. When Cas made a vague gesture at his body, it clicked. The trench coat. With a grunt Dean swung his legs over the bed and stood up, grabbing his duffle bag and tossing it in Cas' direction.
"In there."
Cas caught it, but he didn't look inside to see if Dean was telling the truth. He kept looking at Dean, gaze just as piercing as the hunter remembered. Dean couldn't meet his eyes though, his own gaze flickering to focus just behind Cas before focusing on the ground.
"You're angry with me." Not a question, but a statement, falling softly from the angel's lips as he placed the bag down at his feet, looking up at Dean. And Dean wanted to say yes, wished that everything was that simple. But Dean wasn't mad at Cas. Dean was hurt, angry at himself than anything, unsure… A whole mess of emotions. But the one he knew how to deal with was anger. Anger was violent and hot, surging and powerful, and it was something Dean knew well.
"Let me get this straight." Dean's voice was hard and flat, green eyes still not looking at the angel's blue ones. "You think that after months of nothing, not even a damn sign or something, when I thought you were dead, you think you can just come waltzing back here?" Dean didn't actually say the words "into my life", but they were implied, and he knew Cas understood. "I grieved for you damnit, why didn't you come back?" Dean's voice was mangled, emotions he had kept suppressed for far too long dripping out of the cracks, his resolve breaking slowly. But Dean didn't stop now that he started. With a mangled cry Dean surged forward, slamming the angel into the wall behind him hard. Dean could hear the plaster break from the impact, but the angel's face remained the same calm hurt it had been moments ago. And this just made the anger in Dean rush hotter. Dean wanted to break the angel, to make Cas feel the pain he had to go through alone. He wanted to crush the angel, rip him apart and leave him, the way Cas had left him.
"Why didn't you come back, huh?" Dean screamed, voice raw as he slammed Cas against the wall again, trying to get something from the angel, anything. Cas hit the wall limply, not moving to push Dean away from him, almost as if he didn't have the strength anymore.
"Do you want me to leave, Dean?" Castiel's voice was quiet and soft, eyes looking down at the floor. And that made Dean freeze, hand raised and fingers clenched in a fist, ready to crush the angel's face, to hear the satisfying sound of bones breaking and skin tearing. But that one question made Dean freeze, green eyes wild. He wanted to say yes, wanted to go back to the numbness he had come to know these past few months. But he couldn't. He just couldn't.
"Damnit Cas." Dean groaned angrily, fisting the material of the angel's suit in his hand desperately, knuckles going white from the hold. The angel looked up, blue eyes piercing and on fire as they looked at Dean. And then everything came crashing around Dean, resolve shattering inside him – he needed Cas. He always had, and he always will.
Dean closed the last few inches of space between them and kissed Cas, kissed him hard, lips crashing onto the angel's own as the hand that was going to punch him reached to fist Cas' hair, thick black locks sliding through Dean's fingers. Cas responded with the same desperation, hands grabbing the front of Dean's shirt and pulling him closer, groaning softly against the hunter's lips. Even after all these months, Dean knew those lips well, had dreamed about them on more than one occasion, and let himself relearn them. Cas didn't seem to want to wait though, opening his mouth and tilting his head to deepen the kiss, trying to coax Dean to submit as he traced the hunter's lips with his tongue. And Dean complied without resistance, groaning softly as he opened his mouth. Cas pressed against Dean, hands sliding under the material of his thin t-shirt as they kissed, hot and heavy and eager. Dean could feel his blood rushing hot through his body, arm sliding down to slink around Cas' lower back and pull him as close as he could against his body. Tongues fought and pressed together, lips working against the other's as their breathing became more labored. Dean shifted and pressed his leg between the angel's own, grinding against him, and oh God the angel was hard, pressing against Dean's thigh through his pants. Dean knew his own arousal was obvious, knew that these clothes weren't going to be on much longer, and knew that he needed to feel the angel – skin on skin with nothing between them.
"Cas…" Dean's voice was rough and hot against Cas' lips, pressing his hips forward slightly as the angel moaned against his mouth. The angel slid his hand up Dean's back and gripped his hair, yanking his hair to expose the hunter's neck and moved from Dean's lips to the pulse under his skin, biting and sucking and licking, holding nothing back as he marked Dean so physically. Dean gasped hotly, gripping the front of the angel's suit as Cas worked him over.
"Do you think I could simply abandon you Dean?" the question was low as Cas suddenly stopped biting him, moving to whisper dangerously soft against Dean's ear, stubbled cheek scratching against his own. In a flash the angel's hand slid up Dean's arm and slotted into the mark on his shoulder, a perfect fit, and power suddenly surged from under the mark, grace pulsing hot through Dean's body and making the hunter tremble.
"You're mine."
And then they were on the bed, quicker than Dean could process, but he didn't care because Cas was on top of him, kissing him again as he ground his hips down against Dean's nice and hard, only pulling away to yank the shirt off Dean – the material didn't hold up as it was ripped off his chest, but Dean didn't care. His own hands reached up and fumbled with the buttons of Cas' shirt, moving Cas' arms so he could shake the suit jacket off his shoulders, but then followed Cas' example and simply ripped it off, the sound satisfying and certain as the torn material was thrown aside.
Chest to chest, muscles flexing and straining under skin as their hearts thudded against each other, Dean kissed the angel again, lips and tongues and hot breathing, all mashed together in one glorious, desperate moment of need. Their bodies were hot, covered in a slight coating of sweat, but Dean needed more. His hands slid down Cas' stomach, making the angel groan low against his lips, to the button of his slacks. His fingers were trembling, very aware of how hard he was in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper, but he managed to undo the button and yank the pants down over his ass and thighs. Cas was just as hard, erection heavy against the white material of his briefs, and it made Dean buck up to grind against him.
"Dean…" Cas groaned, and suddenly, there were no clothes, just skin on skin. Cas simply got rid of them, not willing to wait the few seconds to undress Dean. But Dean didn't mind, the touch of Grace had left Dean shivering with want and reveling in the feel of the angel's skin on his. Dean moaned roughly, loving the feeling of Castiel pulling on his hair and sharing breathes with him, grabbing the angel's hips and grinding up against him so their cocks were grinding against each other. And it was so good, the friction, the heat, the desperate moans Cas was making above him. Dean needed Cas soon, needed him touching him in a way no one else had ever done. No one but Castiel.
"Cas I'm ready fuck I'm ready, take me." Dean begged, digging his nails into the angel's hips. The angel was handling him gently, slowly leaning down to kiss across Dean's chest, slowing the grinding motions to slide his hands down to Dean's thighs and open his legs. Wrapping one of them around his waist easily, Cas lined himself up between Dean's legs, the head of his cock pressing against him firmly, making Dean hiss in anticipation.
"Please Cas." And Cas can't say no to the hunter, he never could – not then, not now, not ever.
"I'm here, Dean." Cas says low but gently, and then he's pushing forward, stretching Dean out as he sinks forward into him. The angel pushed in slowly, needing Dean so much more, but giving him a chance to adjust.
"M-Missed you in me like this Cas," Dean groaned, fisting the sheets under him and arching up, muscles in his stomach flexing. And Cas just groans at the sensation, pulling back to just barely tease around Dean's entrance before thrusting into Dean and finding his rhythm as they move together. Cas pumps in and out of Dean, wrapping his fingers around the hunter's cock and giving Dean everything he can. And it's everything Dean needs, everything he's missed, everything that's his angel.
"So close Cas, so close Cas, please—" Dean managed to gasp his plea out, finding the angel's eyes and giving him his all. Giving absolutely everything to the angel he thought he lost. Castiel's breathing is labored, practically panting as he pounds into Dean, headboard thudding against the wall, shadows of his wings dancing on the walls behind him. The only sounds are their shared gasps for air, and the mantra of the other's name on their lips.
And then it's too much, too much pleasure coursing through Dean's body and it's pushing him over the edge. Everything is just white hot heat bursting behind Dean's eyes as he shudders and climaxes, thick and hard against Cas' fingers, moaning desperately and thrusting up. Castiel keeps moving his hand, stroking the hunter's cock and working him through the rush of everything. The angel isn't far behind though, rhythm faltering slightly as he groans, pressing his face against Dean's neck and comes, spilling into the hunter. Dean feels him filling him up, feels the angel tense and moan his name against sweaty skin, and it's just so good. So right.
Dean comes down from his orgasm and comes to with Castiel lying on top of him, the angel's hot breath against Dean's neck and his softening cock still deep inside him. It's quiet in the room, with Dean resting his hand on the angel's back and listening to his gentle breathing. His own heart was thudding loudly, louder than it had in a long time. And for the first time in a long time, Dean felt like this was something real. No longer the numb coldness that was nothing. Cas was here, Cas made him feel alive again. His angel had come back.
"Never leave me again Cas." Dean whispered quietly, tone strained. The angel didn't say anything for a long moment, and then he pressed his lips to Dean's jaw gently.
"I promise, Dean."