Dean was in a foul mood, for a change.
He and Sam had been on a hunt, tracking a particularly nasty group of vampires across Missouri. It had been fairly routine stuff - following a trail of brutal murders, busting into an dingy building, swinging a machete - until a couple of vampires turned up unexpectedly and complicated matters. Dean supposed it was lucky that the freaks had decided to kill them slowly, but the two hours Dean had spent tied up in some windowless room, with blood leaking out of his arm, had not been enjoyable. Well, of course he had called for Castiel. Over and over, actually, praying for all he was worth. Then finally, when Sam had a knife to his throat, there had been a blinding flash and there he was, heaven's prettiest rebel in a trench coat, here to save the day. He dealt with the vampires in a couple of seconds, then freed the brothers.
'Good thing you showed, Cas,' Sam had said, 'I honestly thought we'd had it!'
'Don't mention it. You two ought to be more careful.' Cas spoke in his usual overly-modest, patronising way. God, it irritated him! Did he do it on purpose, Dean wondered, or did he genuinely believe he was so much better than the Winchesters?
Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been glad to see Cas. Any other day he would have enjoyed the meal in the diner just as much as the others did. Any other day he would have laughed along with Sam when Cas started singing along to the radio. Today, however, his hands had tightened on the steering wheel as something twisted in his heart, and then he found himself reaching for a second, then a third beer back at the motel.
Why was he in such a bad mood? Ok, so he had messed up back there. He had been stupid, thoughtless. And it was so goddamn humiliating, Cas finding him like that! Dean glowered at the TV, taking a swig of beer.
'Are you alright? You look troubled.'
Castiel's voice snapped Dean out of his thoughts. He snorted. 'Me?! I'm fine, yeah, just peachy! Why the hell would I be troubled?'
Cas tilted his head to one side, his eyes searching Dean's face. 'Was that sarcasm? You seem somewhat irritated.'
Before Dean could reply, Sam gave him a warning look. 'Just leave it.' Instead of placating Dean, however, this only made him more annoyed.
'Actually, yeah, I am irritated. Do you wanna know why that is, Cas?' He fixed his eyes on the angel's own as he took another drink, 'We nearly died back there. Where were you?'
'I came,' said Cas, clearly offended. Dean was getting more and more worked up. He knew, in the back of his mind, that this wasn't really fair, but if he was honest, he didn't care - he needed to take out his anger on someone, and there Cas was.
'Oh yeah, right,' he said bitterly, 'after two goddamn hours, Cas! Nice timing! You couldn't have showed up before they started torturing us?'
'Oh come on Dean, cut it out,' sighed Sam, 'It's been a difficult day, I get it, but it's not Cas' fault.'
'You stay out of this!' Dean shot at him. At this, Sam flared up. 'Fine!' he said, grabbing his jacket off the table, 'I'm going for a walk! I'll be back when you've decided to grow up.' With that, he was out the door, slamming it behind him.
Cas and Dean sat in uncomfortable silence. After a while, Cas cleared his throat. 'I'm sorry I didn't answer you sooner,' he began, 'I was - '
'Busy?' Dean sneered. He didn't look at Cas, instead staring down at his beer. 'Yeah, whatever. Sorry just isn't going to cut it.'
'Dean, you have had too much to drink.' His tone was shorter now, despite his best efforts not to be provoque. And oh, how Dean wanted to provoke him.
'So what if I have?' he spat. He stood up and gazed down at Castiel, feeling anger burning in his chest. He couldn't stop himself any longer. The words just came spilling out. 'Do you know what your problem is? You think you're so much better than us, don't you, Castiel the high and mighty? Well you're fucking not. And don't you even think of just zapping yourself out of here. We've made you part of our lives and then, when we need you, you don't show until the last minute. Now why is that, Cas? Oh I get it - you're busy. Really? Because do you know what I think, Cas? You don't give a damn. You're just a coward.'
He had done it now, Dean knew, because with that last sentence Cas had looked up, and his eyes were burning with something dangerous. Finally, some sort of reaction. 'What did you call me?' Cas asked quietly.
'You're a fucking coward.'
In a flash Cas had seized Dean's t-shirt and slammed him against the wall. 'How dare you!' Dean's twisted satisfaction disappeared rapidly as he understood that he had gone too far, shit, he had really gone too far this time.
'Cowardly, am I?' Castiel looked livid. 'How dare you, when I've saved your skin so many times, when I dragged you from hell myself, you ungrateful wretch!'
'Cas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - '
'Sorry just isn't going to cut it.' Dean saw with a panic that there was cold fury on his friend's face. He swallowed, remembering just how strong Cas was, but - Cas wouldn't hurt him, would he? Looking now into his blazing eyes, Dean wasn't so sure.
Castiel leered at Dean, who was struggling uselessly. 'Do I think I'm better than you? Yes, Dean, I do. I am a servant of the lord and I could crush you with my bare hands if I wanted to.' Really panicking now, Dean used all his strength to swing a punch at Cas. This was a big mistake. Castiel caught his wrist and twisted it painfully, slamming his body into the wall with the other hand. 'Pathetic! I have sacrificed so much for you, Dean, and you betray me like this!'
'You bastard, you son of a bitch, I hate you, fuck you, fuck you!'
Castiel slammed him against the wall again, as effortlessly as if Dean was a rag doll. Then he brought his face close to Dean's and growled, 'Shut your mouth. You will respect me, boy. You will know your place.' Dean felt his knees go limp. He had never seen Cas quite like this before... Before he knew what was happening, Cas had pinned his wrists above his head with one hand, while his other hand closed around his throat. Damn, he was strong. Dean's mind was racing. How the hell did he get himself into these messes?
'I should break you right now, Winchester, for your selfishness, your betrayal, your insolence,' snarled Cas, and there was hurt in his voice as well as anger. His hand was tight around Dean's throat, and he could barely manage to gasp, 'I'm sorry.'
'Louder, you pathetic wretch.'
'I'm sorry, Cas, please, I'm so sorry...!' The angel regarded him coolly for a moment, then released his hands and his neck, and suddenly Cas was kissing him.
Dean was surprised, yes, but somehow he had known this was coming. He kissed back, partly because it would be pointless to resist, and partly because, well, Cas was a great kisser.
Dean wasn't sure how long he had wanted - needed - this. He kissed hungrily. Castiel's scent, his taste, was somehow addictive. He worked his hands on Cas' neck, wanting to feel more of his perfect skin, his perfect mouth, his perfect eyes, so fucking blue, boring into his soul. 'Cas,' he gasped, but the angel silenced him with another strong kiss. 'So needy,' tutted Castiel, taking Dean's jaw in his hand so that he could not look away from those incredible eyes. 'You're mine now, boy.' The words sent a shudder through him, and he felt his cheeks flush. Cas smirked. 'Is this what the great Dean Winchester has been reduced to? Is this what I do to you?' His silky voice was right in Dean's ear now and he could hardly bear it. His breathing was ragged and his heart - fuck, he thought it might explode - and everything was Cas. His hands had tangled themselves into spiky brown hair and he curled them into fists, egging Cas on, 'Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou,' then a sharp gasp as Castiel's teeth found his pulsing neck. His mouth came away red, and Dean remembered with a jolt that the angel was so much stronger than him. The thought sent even more blood rushing to his cheeks. God... He had thought Cas was hot, sure, but never that he could be so... Dirty, so fucking consuming, taking every little broken piece of Dean and claiming it as his own.
Castiel bit down on his lip, drawing more blood, and Dean cried out, his fingers gripping the front of Cas' shirt. The angel started to plant kisses on his neck, and Dean felt months worth of pent-up resentment and pain and desire well up inside him. Shit, don't cry, you idiot! Cas was kissing him and it was so good and he was sorry, oh God he was sorry, he would be dead right now without Cas, he realised, without the guy he treated like shit simply because he was there, and he didn't deserve this, this love, or whatever the fuck this was, 'You son of a bitch, Cas, you - you bastard - I hate you - oh fuck,' he breathed, as Cas' hands caressed him and he bit down hard onto Dean's neck. He was shaking now, and could no longer hold back the tears; they came streaming from his eyes like rain. Cas licked the salty trail down Dean's cheek and gazed at him intensely, kindly, simply. He kissed him again, then asked, 'Are you crying because you love me?'
Dean looked up at him, smiling through his tears, sobbing, 'Yes, Cas. I love you, you big idiot.' He kissed him again, tenderly this time, feeling Cas' slow breathing. His hands curled around that strong neck and, for the first time in a long time, Dean felt safe.