A Practice in Improvisation

by hallowgirlfrommars

"Castiel decides the best way to go about this is to simply be direct. So he looks straight at Dean and asks him "Dean, how can I be sure that I have sufficient prowess in varying forms of sexual activity?" Castiel might be an angel again but he hasn't forgotten certain human curiosities. Which can be inconvenient. Until Dean offers to help him "practice". Destiel. Season 9.

OK, this idea for a Dean/Cas fic has been hovering around my head for a while and I finally wrote it out. It turned out longer than I expected, too. :) Leave a review if you like it. :) Oh, and I was kind of worried about what genre this counted as but I hope this was vaguely correct.

---

Castiel likes to think he knows a lot about the human race-or at least, that he understands them enough to do what is required of him, to move amongst them without arousing too much attention

On the majority of occasions, at least. There was that time recently when he seemed to annoy that large man in the bar whose wife had been engaged in a love affair with another man right at that minute and he, Dean and Sam had had to make a hasty exit, when all Castiel had tried to do was inform the man of what was occurring. And that time that Castiel had told the young woman in the bar, that Sam seemed to be about to leave with that he thought Sam might remain in her company longer than he remained with most women, owing to the way his eyes were lingering on her breasts, and that had resulted in Sam nursing the imprint of the woman's hand on his cheek, and Dean rolling his eyes every few moments while his mouth twitched suspiciously. And Sam glaring at Castiel for the next seventeen hours until Castiel delivered an apology that seemed "suitably apologetic."

But as Castiel has tried to explain to Dean, these are merely slips.

But Castiel likes to think he has learned a little more about the human species in recent years. And while he feels fond of them-he is one of their guardians, after all-he still likes to regard himself as separate. Somewhat above their feelings. It's why a part of him has always enjoyed not having to eat, not having to sleep. It reminds him that he is still an angel, even when cut off from all others, and sometimes, that reminder helps.

However, it's rather more difficult to ignore some other urges.

Castiel is fully aware that most humans desire sexual intercourse. He is even aware that many angels desire the same thing. But for him, it has never been a problem. He's never felt much of a curiosity about those acts that seem designed to produce more children, and in fact, in the many years he's been watching the earth, the only thing he's ever really felt is a slight edge of boredom while watching, as he's wondered if people are aware that whatever they are feeling when they participate in these acts is hardly unique to them.

And so the whole issue has never posed much of a problem.

But now..

Castiel has kissed Meg. He remembers kissing Meg-and it felt good. Very good. But not the way it's always seemed to feel for humans. He remembers seeing other humans kiss, seeing their eyes meet afterwards-and he hadn't felt that. Whatever that was.

He'd felt something-something had sparked between them, something that felt like a current of electricity-but something had just been missing. And she'd kissed him first. So he'd kissed her back.

And he hadn't been lying when he said it was a good memory. But...he didn't think of it much.

April had been different. It had been...enjoyable. It had been rather more intense than he'd expected. And he'd learnt the meaning of some of the terms Dean enjoyed using frequently, which could only be a benefit in the future.

But...it still had hardly seemed to confirm the descriptions of these acts he'd heard over the years.

Castiel had almost forgotten about it. It was not of import, after all. And in any case, Dean seems oddly relieved that Castiel does not fixate on April, anyway.

Dean had asked him about it once. An unusual event in itself, as Castiel is fully aware of Dean Winchester's distaste for what he describes as "chick flick moments" and what Sam describes as "confiding."

"Cas-" Dean had said one night, turning to stare at him. They'd been in the Impala and Castiel had been leaning back against the seat, staring straight ahead. Everything had been as normal as it could be for a night after a hunt. But when he turned to look at Dean, he saw that his brow was creased, his eyes narrowed.

Castiel wondered if he had inadvertently done something wrong. It had only been a few days since the bar incident.

But Dean had just turned and looked at him. "Are you all right?"

Castiel had frowned. He had taken a quick inventory, wondering if he had sustained any physical injury that would have prompted this concern on Dean's part. "I believe so."

"No, I meant-" And Dean had turned and stared straight through the windshield. Castiel had swallowed nervously, shifting slightly in the passenger seat. Sam wasn't here which was the only reason Castiel had been able to "call shotgun" as Dean put it, though Castiel wasn't too sure how riding in the passenger seat correlated with weaponry in any way.

"I meant, more like, how are you feeling, you know? Since the whole April thing." Dean had stared straight ahead through the windshield, scratching behind the ear, while Castiel kept his eyes on Dean's profile. It took him a moment to wonder about why Dean was only asking about this now.

"I'm fine" he had said slowly, wondering why Dean was refusing to look at him. "My wounds have healed and I-"

"No, no, dude, I meant-" Dean had raised both his hands in the air, as if that could more easily convey what he meant. "Like-are you-OK...feelings wise?"

The question had hung in the air between them, and Castiel had felt himself frown. "I don't know what you mean, Dean."

Dean had swallowed. "Jeez" and he'd pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. Castiel hadn't wanted to look away. He didn't often want to look away from Dean, which he tried not to think about.

"I mean, do you feel...sad? At all?" Dean had swallowed and stared out of the window. "Did you, you know...love her?"

Castiel had stared at him. He knew that Dean would do almost anything to avoid enquiring about emotions. He knew Dean would rather drink, as Sam put it, "most of the bar" and spend the next day sleeping than discuss emotions.

Which left him wondering why Dean was keen to discuss his emotions.

But he could tell Dean wanted a genuine answer so he had thought carefully. "No" he had said, after several moments of careful thought. "I did not love her."

Castiel thought he saw some sort of tension seep out of Dean's shoulders at that but he couldn't be sure.

"Oh" Dean had said and a smile had tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Good. I mean...I just didn't want you...you know...pining away over some freaking reaper."

Castiel had frowned. "I am not...pining away" he had said slowly and Dean's smile had just grown broader.

"Good" he'd said and had even gone as far as to slide his arm around Castiel's shoulders and squeeze him for a moment, which left Castiel feeling strangely overheated with a rather pleasant falling sensation in his stomach.

And they hadn't mentioned it again since. But Castiel hasn't forgotten that moment, and he keeps remembering how Dean seemed to be in a remarkably good mood for the rest of the night.

He wonders if he could blame the current state of affairs on Dean's question that night but knows that wouldn't really be fair.

It doesn't stop him wanting to do it.

But in the last few months, Castiel has found his thoughts straying to one topic with an almost worrying frequency.

He had thought that after he regained Grace, the thoughts would vanish-that they were merely a part of being human, one that he would lose, along with his desires for food and drink-but now he is an angel again. An angel with stolen grace, but an angel nonetheless.

And the thoughts are not diminishing.

He manages to hide it pretty well. It's not as though he is constantly imagining different...scenarios.

(Castiel is fully aware Dean would laugh if he could hear his thoughts, and so he is rather glad that that particular ability has averted Dean so far.)

But he is thinking about...things. A lot. And whenever Dean kicks back with a film on TV and there's a scene involving kissing-with Dean usually describing the various merits of the actress in question which for some reason, makes Castiel's teeth grind together, and his fingers dig into the arm of the chair-he finds his own eyes lingering on their mouths. The movements. The angles of their heads. The way they breathe.

Almost studying.

It's not just kissing. Whenever things go further-particularly when Sam's out of the room-Castiel always finds his cheeks flushing, his fingers digging into the arms of the chair-for an entirely different reason, this time-and his eyes darting back and forth between the floor and the screen, part of him desperate to observe what's going on and another part wishing he could disappear and ignore the little thrill that each small sigh and gasp seems to lance through him.

Strangely, Dean, who has always been entirely comfortable with this kind of thing, seems to find the situation disconcerting, too. His eyes often dart away from the screen, as Castiel's do, but rather than staring at the floor, they often focus on Castiel himself.

Castiel doesn't know why but something about that sends a greater thrill through his chest than the sounds from the TV. And then that sometimes triggers a greater reaction somewhere else and at that point, he generally excuses himself and tries to distract himself, alone in his room, with thoughts that are entirely free of skin shining with sweat and panted, broken moans.

The only problem is, that is becoming more and more difficult. Particularly at night.

Castiel is not used to lying with his face pressed into the pillow, the sheets wrapped around him, his skin damp and his heart banging against his chest, as well as a feeling of ecstasy flooding his whole body, but he doesn't exactly find the sensation unpleasant. His mind will drift and he'll find himself there, in that position, but he never stops-even though he's sure he could if he wished.

He does, however, find it perturbing that it's often Dean's name that comes with a moan from his throat, and it's often Dean's face that's the last thing he sees before his eyes fly open, his hands clawing at the sheets.

Not just Dean's face. And Castiel does not need to sleep, so he can't even blame the images on simple dreams.

All in all, the problem's becoming a little distracting.

More than that, Castiel sometimes wonders about his own prowess at kissing.

(And he knows Dean would laugh at that phrasing, too.)

But he doesn't know. He has too little experience to know whether or not he has any particular skill at these acts. His kiss with Meg was the first and so he probably made some erroneous moves. And with April-well, she was a reaper. If he was less than successful, it probably didn't matter to her anyway.

And so Castiel has no way of knowing if he would actually ever be-satisfactory-in those types of actions.

This shouldn't bother him as much as it does.

He puzzles over it for a while and then remembers what Dean had told him. "If there's ever anything you don't get about the whole human thing, Cas, just ask."

This definitely qualifies as the whole human thing.

And he definitely doesn't get it.

Castiel decides the best way to go about this is to simply be direct. So he waits until he and Dean are alone in the bunker, and then he looks straight at him and asks.

"Dean, how can I be sure that I have sufficient prowess in varying forms of sexual activity?"

Dean had been drinking from a can as Cas asked this question. The next several minutes were spent with Dean wiping off his shirt and Castiel sitting quietly, waiting for an answer.

After all, Dean said to ask him anything.

"Cas-" Dean closes his eyes and leans his forehead on his hands. "Cas, seriously-"

Castiel stares at him. "Have I done something wrong?"

Dean sighs. "Cas-" After a second, he tries another tack. "Cas, what the hell-brought this on?"

Castiel feels a slow flush creeping up his cheeks. "I-" He tries to think of a tactful way to phrase it and can't. But he can feel himself shifting awkwardly in his seat, and it doesn't help that Dean has been watching him with his head tilted to the side, in a way that makes Castiel notice the freckles that Dean has sprinkled at the tops of his cheeks.

And that sends another rush of sensation somewhere else and Castiel bites down on his lip.

Dean stares at him for another moment and Castiel avoids his gaze. Keeping his eyes on the other wall, he says, slowly "I-I have been thinking-a lot-about-" His face has never felt this warm before.

He doesn't get a chance to finish though because a grin breaks over Dean's face-though it's wiped away quickly as the hunter makes a visible effort to keep his expression under control.

"You mean-" And Dean's grin breaks out all over again. "You've got sex on the brain or something?"

Castiel feels himself jump and those words from Dean's mouth just make the situation worse. "I-I'm not sure if I would...describe-"

Dean's already laughing. "Man. Maybe it's because you've become an angel again, you know. Like some kind of angel puberty thing?"

Castiel feels his brows furrow and his teeth grind together. "It's not funny, Dean" he growls and his voice is a lot louder than usual. He keeps his eyes on the wall, all the better to ignore the fact that Dean is laughing at him.

Dean's laughter dies down at Castiel's tone and an awkward silence fills the air between them. Castiel doesn't look as Dean's footsteps cross the floor slowly until he's sitting down next to Castiel, sitting down with a small indrawn breath as if he's thinking of what to say.

"Listen, Cas" he starts and his hand hovers an inch from Castiel's arm. He tries not to think of how near Dean's skin is, but his arm feels warmer even through the material of his suit and trench coat.

"I'm sorry" and Castiel looks up at the words. Dean's looking at him with his eyes narrowed in concern now and something about the expression makes Castiel feel slightly safer, as if he'd been falling through the air and he'd suddenly been caught.

Though that's ridiculous because Castiel would never fall.

"Seriously, Cas" and Dean pushes a hand through his hair. "I wasn't laughing at you."

Castiel swallows and casts Dean a quick look. Dean holds up his hands. "Honest."

Castiel lets his gaze flicker back to the floor and Dean's hand moves back to his arm. Castiel doesn't pull away.

Dean clears his throat. "What makes you think...you wouldn't be-you know. Good-at that?" His cheeks are a little flushed when Castiel glances up but his eyes are still resting on the angel's and he's stopped laughing, at the very least.

Castiel swallows and drops his gaze. "I...don't have much experience with...that" he says carefully, and for some reason, he begins playing with one of the buttons on his coat. "And...I'm not sure how..to improve one's-" He searches for the correct word. "Technique" he finally settles on.

Dean seems to have a harder time suppressing a smirk this time. "Technique" he finally says, and he bites his lip, glancing away.

"It's not funny" Castiel says again but his voice is weaker this time.

Dean looks at him. "OK" he says and he draws the word out slowly. "OK." He seems to be thinking, his eyes flickering back and forth.

Castiel keeps his gaze on the floor until he becomes aware that Dean is staring at him hard. He slowly raises his head and swallows.

"What?"

Dean is staring at him and gives his head a little shake. "Nothing. I was just-" He pushes a hand over his face. "So you want some way to-" He hesitates over the words. "Refine your technique, right?"

Castiel nods. "That would be an accurate description, yes."

Dean nods and a smirk flashes across his mouth again. "So, what, you want someone to practice on or something?"

It really doesn't help that Castiel catches a glimpse of Dean's mouth at that moment and that combined with the word practice puts pictures in his head.

His eyes flicker away again but Dean's already laughing. "Man, seriously? That could get awkward pretty fast."

Castiel swallows and Dean laughs. "Who would you want to practice on, anyway?"

For the first time, Castiel understands what people mean when they describe their cheeks flaming. "I-I don't know" he says and he lets his gaze fall to the floor. "Someone I..." He swallows. "Someone I trust" and Dean nods, still smirking.

"Someone I know" and this time Castiel's eyes flicker to Dean, almost without his permission.

It takes Dean a second to catch Castiel's meaning. His mouth opens and closes and he gestures silently at himself for a minute. "Wh-me?"

Castiel glances away quickly. He can feel his own heartbeat. He doesn't think he has ever felt this warm in his life.

Dean swallows. "Cas-" He rakes a hand through his hair. "Dude, I got to tell you-most dudes don't ask to practice kissing on other dudes."

It's more than kissing, but Castiel decides not to point that out at this moment in time.

"I understand" he says, and somehow, it's a struggle to get the words out.

Dean's already holding his hands up and Castiel rushes over him. "I understand that you don't want to-"

"No, Cas, it's not-it's not that I don't want to-" Dean stops dead, the words hanging in the air between them.

Castiel's eyes meet Dean's and Dean swallows. His cheeks suddenly look rather more flushed than usual and something about that gives Castiel a fizzing sensation in his chest and tugs his lips into a small smile.

Something about the smile seems to catch Dean's eyes because he stares at Castiel's mouth for a moment, his eyes blinking slightly. It takes him another moment for his eyes to find Castiel's and another for him to speak.

"It's not that I don't want to-it's just that-that-" He seems to be struggling to find a way to explain it. "It's not-usual, you know? For dudes to-just practice on their-you know-friends."

Castiel frowns. "I understand if you do not want to, Dean, but I may just point out that we are not entirely usual." They are, after all, an angel and a hunter, standing in the middle of a bunker, one with a history of being God and the other with a trip to hell and purgatory behind him.

Dean puts his hands on his hips and his teeth dig into his lip. "Cas-"

Castiel swallows and Dean's eyes linger on his. And something changes in Dean's expression, then. His eyes flicker to Castiel's lips which he realises he's drawn into what Sam calls a pout without meaning to. And Dean's just staring at them.

Dean's eyes fall away and he moves past Castiel, leaning his forehead on his hand. "Look, man-" Castiel turns to watch him. "Most people don't do this kind of thing."

Castiel nods. "You've said that already, Dean."

"I know. I just meant-" Dean inhales sharply and then suddenly swings to face him. "Look" he says, quite abruptly. "If we did-and I'm-if we did-it-" His hand moves between them. "It stays between us. OK?"

Castiel frowns. "Of course."

"And-I mean-we don't tell anyone." Dean points at him for emphasis and Castiel nods slowly. "And it'd have to be-you know-when Sam's not here."

Castiel nods again slowly. Dean does the same, but his eyes are moving around the room, as though distracted by something.

Castiel swallows. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Cas?"

"Sam isn't here now."

A deafening silence seems to fall between them, and Dean stares at Cas for a second, before he starts shaking his head. "No" he says slowly, still shaking it. "No, no, no. Not right now."

Castiel frowns. "Why not?"

Dean looks him dead in the eye. "One-this is kind of a big thing, Cas. I need to think about it." At Castiel's eyes flickering away, Dean shakes his head. "Not like that. I've already said I'll do it. I just mean-I need time to think how to do it, you know?"

Castiel doesn't completely but he nods, a little buoyed by Dean's reassurance that he'll make good on his promise.

"And second, Sammy'll be back soon." Dean's glancing at the clock and Castiel has to admit that he's right. "But-" And here Dean swallows. "Next time he's gone-I'll-" He coughs and looks away. "I'll show you some stuff, OK? We'll-" He seems to struggle over the word for a moment but slowly gets it out. "Practice."

Castiel feels a smile spread over his face. "Thank you, Dean."

"But I mean it." Dean holds up a finger. "No one apart from you and me. And only when Sam's not here. Capiche?"

Castiel nods. "I capiche" he says and wonders why that makes a small smile tug at Dean's mouth.

"Good" he says and with that, he turns back to the kitchen. "You want a burger, Cas?" he calls over his shoulder and even though Cas doesn't require food, he decides to try one anyway, since Dean has agreed to his own request.

Castiel's thoughts are more vivid when he drifts that night but this time, he doesn't mind as much.

---

It's a few days before Sam leaves the bunker to run some errands, and the second he's gone, Castiel casts a quick glance at Dean before looking away again.

But Dean's already watching him, and that grin's flickering at his mouth again. "Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"You want to-try what we talked about?"

Castiel could say no, he's got it under control, he doesn't need to bother Dean about it at all. But he thinks of last night and glances at that smile tugging at Dean's lips and instead, he takes a deep breath and gives Dean a quick nod.

"OK." Dean looks at him and gestures to the hallway. "Want to go in my room?"

Castiel feels his eyes widen and Dean laughs. "I just thought it might be easier, Cas."

Castiel feels his cheeks flush again and he nods, hoping to cover up the moment of confusion. He follows Dean down the hallway to his room.

Inside, he stands awkwardly for a moment, letting his eyes dart about. He's been in Dean's room before but never quite in this context.

"Take a seat" and Dean's already sinking onto the edge of the bed. Castiel hesitates but slowly sits down next to him.

"OK." Dean takes in a deep breath and Castiel turns to watch him. "So, kissing."

"Yes." Castiel swallows and tries not to let his gaze linger too long on Dean's lips.

"Do you..." Dean gestures awkwardly. "Want to go first or do you want me to kiss you?"

Castiel swallows, feeling his cheeks flame. Dean's eyes narrow.

"Hey." He holds up his hands. "If we're going to do this, you can't be shy. You've got to tell me what you want. That's the only way I'm going to know. Only way anyone's going to know, Cas."

Castiel swallows. His heart seems to be going very, very fast. He clenches and unclenches his hands on the edge of the duvet.

"I would like you to kiss me" he says, his voice slightly lower than usual. He tries not to think of Dean kissing him. He tries not to think of Dean kissing him because even the very thought of Dean kissing him makes him light-headed.

"OK." Dean doesn't bat an eye at the question. He turns round, so that he's facing Castiel head on and Castiel is suddenly finding it very difficult to meet Dean's eyes.

"OK." Dean leans in closer and gently lifts Castiel's chin so that their eyes meet. "I'm going to kiss you first, to show you how to do it. OK?"

Castiel nods. He wants to say something but for some reason, his brain seems to have frozen. Every logical, coherent thought seems to have been replaced by sensation and feeling and longing. He feels himself dig his teeth into his lip.

"Hey" and Dean flicks Castiel's lip gently with his finger. "Don't do that, Cas. Want your lips nice and soft if I'm going to be kissing them."

The words do something to Castiel and he feels his lips part slightly, willingly. Dean smirks. "Better."

Dean shifts slightly, leaning in closer to Castiel. "Now, the first thing you've got to do when you're going to kiss someone, is wait for them to look at you."

Castiel frowns and that smirk flickers again. "Like this." Dean leans back suddenly. "OK, let's go from the start. We're sitting on the bed next to each other like this."

Castiel nods. "Yes." Sitting, he knows he can do.

"And I want to kiss you."

Castiel feels a shiver creep over his skin. It is not an unpleasant sensation.

"So, first, I let my eyes flicker to yours' a few times." Dean does so, and Castiel finds he can't look away.

"And I wait until we're watching each other." Dean swallows. "This kind of helps you work out if the other person wants you to kiss them or not, you know?"

Castiel nods. "I understand." His voice comes out far lower than usual, but for some reason, the words seem to tremble.

"So, you're looking at me, and I let my eyes sort of go down to your lips." Dean's eyes flicker to Castiel's mouth and Castiel's heart seems to do a strange leap in his chest. "And then I look at your eyes again. And then back to your lips."

Castiel's thoughts seem to have vanished. Or at least, been replaced. Replaced by thoughts about how warm it is, and how close Dean is, and how much he wants. His whole body suddenly wants.

Dean smirks, as if he knows exactly the effect he's having. "And then, if you look like you want to be kissed-I lean in a bit-"

Dean leans into him, his head tilting to the side and Castiel feels his own head tilt the opposite way. Dean's hand slides gently up to his jaw and one finger traces along the skin, leaving Castiel's head spinning. He feels himself melt into the touch and a small sound comes from his throat before he can stop it.

He tries to press his lips together but Dean shakes his head. "Don't worry, Cas. Don't try and stop yourself, if you want to, you know-" Dean coughs and for the first time, looks mildly uncomfortable. "Make any-sounds-or-" He seems to regain a little confidence. "Do anything" he says, after a second. "That stuff can make it better, you know? So don't hold yourself back or anything."

"All right." Castiel isn't sure how the words come out so clear when all his mind is full of are Dean's lips.

"So" and Dean leans in, one hand sliding into the back of Castiel's hair. "I lean in, closer-" Dean is so close now, Castiel can almost taste his lips. "Until we're almost touching, like this, Cas."

Dean's lips are an inch away from Castiel's now. One hand's in Castiel's hair, his fingers moving back and forth a little. Castiel can feel his mouth opening slightly, his whole body straining for contact. He feels as if he might dissolve, as if he might crumble with the slightest touch. And a part of him can't stop thinking how good that would feel.

"And then" says Dean, and those eyes are so close and Castiel can't look away. "I kiss you."

And then Dean slowly tilts his head in and lets his lips brush Castiel's.

It's the merest tingling of sensation at first, something that seems to make his brain light up, and then Dean's lips open gently against his, and all Castiel can think of is how warm Dean's lips are and the sheer softness of them against his. They move gently at first and then Castiel feels his own mouth move in response. It feels as if he's lost, lost in the sheer warmth and softness and the feeling of Dean's mouth against his.

It is not like any other time he's been kissed.

When Dean pulls away, Castiel feels himself breathe, drawing in air as if he hasn't taken a breath in years. Which it feels as though he hasn't.

Dean's smiling but his voice cracks as he speaks. "Wow" he says, and he pushes a hand through his hair. "Thought you said you weren't good at this stuff, Cas?"

Castiel frowns. "That was pleasurable to you?"

It appears for a moment as if Dean's biting back another smirk and then "Yeah, Cas." He turns to look at Castiel. "What about you?"

Castiel tries to think of words to convey exactly how that kiss felt but fails to come up with any. Instead, he settles for "I found that very pleasing."

Dean smirks. "Yeah, I could kind of tell." He gestures and Castiel glances down to see that his pants are tented between his legs.

He feels his mouth fall open, his cheeks flushing scarlet and begins to stammer. "D-dean-I-I'm sorry-this is all very-"

But Dean's laughing. "Dude." He holds up a hand. "That's completely normal. I'd be kind of worried if it didn't happen, actually."

Castiel feels a faint surge of relief but he still bites his lip, wishing his body didn't give away his reactions so easily.

"Now" and Dean turns to smile at him. "You have a go."

It takes Castiel a moment to realise what he means. "You mean...kiss you?"

Dean nods. "Yeah. Come on, Romeo." He gestures. "You just kissed me back. Shouldn't be too difficult."

Castiel is inclined to disagree, but there's another part of him that doesn't want to.

He swallows. "OK" he says, trying to imitate Dean's relaxed tone. "We're sitting on the bed and-"

"You want to kiss me" says Dean and that small smile's still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I do" agrees Castiel and then feels himself flush scarlet again as he realises how the words could be taken.

But Dean doesn't pull away, instead shrugging and nodding. "Most people have that problem."

Castiel smiles, but still fidgets, tugging at the edge of his trench coat. "I-" He takes in a deep breath and reminds himself that Dean has just gone through the entire procedure. It cannot be too difficult.

"I look at you." He lets his eyes glance up to Dean's and then down to his mouth again. He keeps his gaze focused on Dean's mouth for a moment and is rewarded when the hunter's lips part and his tongue flickers nervously over his bottom lip.

"And then I-" Castiel slowly leans in, careful not to lose his balance on the bed. "And-tilt my head to the side-"

Dean does the same and for a minute they both tilt to the right. Dean laughs nervously. "Here, Cas-"

"I'm sorry-" A small laugh breaks from Cas's throat and Dean smirks as Castiel adjusts his head. Both of their eyes meet and for a moment identical shy smiles tug at both the hunter and the angel's mouths.

Though that's ridiculous. Dean is never shy.

But Castiel swallows and then cautiously lifts his hand to Dean's hair. "And then I'll-" He tries experimentally running his fingers back and forth, just brushing Dean's scalp lightly with the very tips.

Dean inhales sharply, his eyes closing, and Castiel hesitates. "Are you OK?"

Dean's eyes open, and there's a slightly glazed quality to them now. "Yeah, just-" He shifts awkwardly. "Keep doing that, Cas" and his voice is huskier than usual.

Castiel resumes the slow stroking and Dean's eyes close again. He shudders for a moment and Castiel feels gripped with a strange excitement-an excitement that he did this, he affected Dean like this. He made Dean feel this.

"OK" he says, and he slows the stroking slightly as he tilts his head once again. "And now I kiss you" he says, trying to make it sound like this is something he does every day.

Dean's eyes open and a small smirk flickers back into life at this. "Yeah, Cas, go ahead." He laughs softly, raising an eyebrow. "Lay one on me." He keeps his eyes on Castiel's, and then his eyes widen a little. "I can take it" he says, a soft reassurance, and it's this more than anything, that makes Castiel draw in a deep breath, tilt his head and lean in.

He feels his lips press against Dean's and then he feels the hunter's mouth open softly under his, already kissing him back. Castiel tries to move his lips carefully, guiding himself into Dean's warmth but it's difficult when his tongue seems to have suddenly decided that the one thing it wants to taste is the inside of Dean's mouth. He holds it back as long as he can, his hands sliding into Dean's hair, to hold him close to him, and he feels Dean sigh as his mouth opens against Castiel's.

It's when Dean's hands slide into Castiel's hair and his fingers repeat the stroking motions Castiel's had been doing moments before that Castiel feels his mouth open wider and his tongue moves with no command from him at all. He feels it slide into Dean's mouth before he can stop himself and a second later, Dean's tongue is against his.

He hears a small surprised sound from Dean's throat and for a moment, he freezes, sure that now Dean is going to pull away, but then Dean slides an arm around Castiel's shoulders, pulling him closer, so that their mouths are open against each other, and Castiel's whole brain is Dean's mouth and Dean's tongue and Dean's lips. Dean's tongue slides against his lips and then he gently sucks at Castiel's bottom lip and Castiel hears a small sound come from his own throat.

Dean makes a sound that could be a word, though given their current positions it's difficult to tell. But then he pulls back, gently, letting his lips linger on Castiel's long enough to kiss him once more, longer, softer kisses that seem to quiet the frenzy raging in Castiel's body at that moment, quiet it enough to finish with a last, gentle kiss, just their lips moving together for a brief, warm moment before Dean pulls back.

Castiel swallows nervously. He is not entirely sure about everything else yet but he thinks he is beginning to grasp why humans seem to enjoy the act of kissing so much.

Dean's mouth opens and closes a couple of times. "I-" He swallows and pushes a hand through his hair. "I-holy shit, Cas."

Castiel frowns. "Did I-do something wrong?"

Dean turns to stare at him. "Do something wr-man, freaking opposite." He stares at his lap. "Cas, that was pretty-" He sucks in a breath and then turns to look. "You sure you only kissed two chicks before this?"

Castiel nods. "I have told you my entire sexual history" he says and Dean rolls his eyes. "Dude-"

Castiel interrupts him. "Are you about to inform me that most dudes would not inform other dudes of their various activities using words like "sexual history"?"

Dean stares at him for a moment and then breaks into laughter. He pats Castiel on the shoulder and Castiel feels himself smile, even though he's not entirely sure what he's said that's so amusing.

"Aw, Cas" and Dean drags his hand across his eyes. "Don't ever change, OK?"

Castiel smiles. "I won't" he says, and Dean laughs even harder at that. Letting a hand fall on Castiel's shoulder, he climbs off the bed and Castiel remains sitting, wondering how to ask Dean the question that's suddenly dancing at the front of his mind.

He doesn't need to, however. Dean is already shooting a glance at the door. "Sammy'll be home soon" he says, and his eyes linger on Castiel's for a moment. "How about we-pick it up-next time he's out?"

Castiel feels a slow smile spread over his own lips. "OK" he says, and he watches Dean for another moment, while Dean stares back. And stares.

The moment stretches out between them, like elongated toffee, until the sudden bang of the bunker door and the sound of Sam's voice loudly announcing "I'm back!" breaks the spell.

"Coming, Sammy" and Dean gestures fruitlessly to the door before heading out of it with a last glance at Cas to address his little brother. Castiel remains where he is for another moment, his mind still buzzing with the sensation of Dean's mouth against his, before Dean steps back into the room.

"Come on, Cas, before Sammy wonders why you're back here all by yourself" he says. "And remember-" He holds his finger up to his lips which even Castiel knows is the universal symbol for "Keep quiet or Sam will have ammunition against us for all eternity."

"I will" he says and to make sure Dean gets the message, he holds his own finger up to his lips and taps them once. Just so Dean knows.

Dean apparently does know because that smirk spreads again over his mouth and he shakes his head. This time, he claps Castiel on the shoulder and leads him out of the room to Sam, waiting with the bags of groceries and a rather peevish expression, already launching into a demand for their help in putting them away.

Dean keeps his arm around Castiel's shoulders the entire way down the hallway, and Castiel wonders why that makes him feel as if his insides are lighting up, almost as much as the kissing.

---

It's another four days before Sam goes out again and Castiel tries not to jump up the second he's out of the door.

But Dean's already folding up his magazine and his eyes are travelling up and down Castiel's figure. Castiel tries to keep his face blank, inscrutable, the way he did when he first met Dean, but it becomes more and more difficult, especially when Dean is walking closer and closer to him, leaning close in a way that Castiel knows very well because it's exactly the way he walks up to Dean.

Dean grins at him and indicates the hallway with his head. "Cas-" And his tongue flickers at his lips. "You want to-"

Castiel is fairly sure he knows what Dean is implying but he makes sure to clarify this first. "Do you mean to continue the previous actions that have occurred between us?"

Dean's lips twitch and he breaks into a small gale of laughter, a hand landing on Castiel's shoulder. "Dude, that is the least sexy line I've ever heard."

Castiel tilts his head to the side, and swallows. "I-I didn't mean-"

But Dean's hand keeps resting on Castiel's shoulder. "Nah, Cas, I didn't mean it like-what I meant is it's good. It's, you know-" Dean's chewing at his lip and Castiel feels his eyes narrow, because he can't remember the last time he saw Dean Winchester look this uncomfortable. "Different" and it would feel strange except for the way Dean's smiling as he watches him, those eyes-Castiel has never realised how pleasing Dean Winchester's eyes are, before-just watching him, taking him in. Castiel doesn't know what to do except smile back-and a part of him only wants to smile back.

Other parts of him are still paying attention to just how close Dean Winchester is currently standing.

There's a moment of locked eyes and indrawn breath, Castiel's heart seeming to stutter in his chest, before Dean's hand falls onto his arm. "C'mon, then" and he leads Castiel back towards his bedroom.

Castiel sits on the bed with a little less hesitation this time, and Dean's already taken his seat, hand tugging at the edge of Castiel's trench coat.

"Right. I was thinking-" Dean rakes his hands through his hair and Castiel feels a sharp rush of sensation, of heat, below his stomach-and he shakes his head because how can Dean just running his hands through his hair make that happen?

"I was thinking we could-take it a bit further this time" and Dean's suddenly eyeing Castiel anxiously. "You OK with that, Cas?"

Castiel looks at Dean and imagines all the many things that "going further" could mean-and the accompany surge of sensation informs him that yes, in Dean's terms, he is "OK" with that.

He nods, and Dean smiles. "All right" he says and he moves an inch closer. "I was thinking, I'm going to start out just kissing you-you know, like last time-"

Castiel nods. This, he can do.

"And then I was thinking we could, kind of-" Dean shakes his head and drags a hand through his hair again. "Hell, Cas, I haven't been this nervous since I was a freaking teenager."

Castiel frowns, and something that feels like ice seems to lance into his chest. "Do you-dislike kissing me?" he says and the words come out far quieter than he expected.

Dean blinks. "Cas-jeez, Cas, no! No way! I-the freaking opposite, Cas-" His cheeks flush scarlet as the words hang in the air between them. He swallows. "I-"

Castiel feels his own cheeks flush too, and there's a long silence. Dean's eyes dart to the right and then back to Castiel's again.

"I just meant-I didn't want to freak you out, you know?" says Dean, the words falling into the air between them. "I didn't want to-push you into anything."

Castiel frowns, turning the words over in his mind. "You are not-pushing me into anything" he says, slowly, turning to face Dean. "I would-like to take it further."

Dean's eyes are only a few inches away from his and Castiel feels himself swallow. His heartbeat has never seemed quite so loud as it does now.

Dean draws in a deep breath. "OK" he says slowly, hesitantly, and Castiel could be imagining the catch in his voice as he says the words. He swallows and says them again, more confidently. "OK" he says, and he beckons Cas closer. "We've, you know, kissed and stuff. But you know there's-you know-more to kissing, right?"

Castiel feels his forehead pucker. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Dean sighs. "Dude." He leans his head on his hands. "Seriously. I know you're an angel and everything, Cas, but you've seen movies."

When Dean looks up and Castiel is still frowning, clearly none the wiser, he sighs. "Dude, they call it making out for a reason."

Castiel feels the blood creep up his cheeks again. It's getting to be a habit and rather an annoying one. He would like to come up with something a lot more impressive but instead, all that comes out of his mouth is "Oh."

"Oh?" Dean laughs again, but the sound seems to fill Cas up this time, a river of sound that pulls a smile to his lips.

"Cas-" and Dean laughs and touches his shoulder again. "It'll get a lot more than a freaking oh out of you." He grins. "Want me to go first again?"

Castiel nods a little too quickly and Dean just smirks. "All right."

He leans forward and his mouth is against Castiel's.

Even though Castiel was more prepared for it this time, he still isn't entirely ready for how it will feel. He's been replaying the last time they did this over and over in his head, but now he's falling and kissing and gasping all over again, and he didn't think it'd be this good, he didn't think anything could be this good, ever.

He feels his mouth open in a sigh and clings onto Dean, when Dean begins running his fingers down his neck and lightly dancing around his collar. Castiel feels Dean murmur something into his mouth, and he lets his head fall back in a gasp, expecting this to be the moment Dean pulls away.

But instead, Dean merely seals his lips with another quick, soft kiss and then moves his mouth against Castiel's neck, his breath hot against Castiel's skin. Castiel jerks a little in surprise and Dean soothes him with soft strokes against his ribs, and Castiel sighs, his head tilting back a little.

"That-that feels-"

Dean's mouth moves to just beneath Castiel's ear and Castiel feels himself go rigid all over, his eyes flying open. "Dean-oh-"

Dean's mouth moves again and then he hits a spot that makes Castiel go boneless all over and seems to flood his mind with sensation. A high-pitched desperate sound comes from his throat and then Dean laughs and repeats the action and Castiel's voice breaks into an actual whimper.

Dean laughs. "See, Cas? That's making out." His hands push into Castiel's hair but the force of the fingers digging into his scalp just make Castiel's mouth open against Dean's lips, his breathing harder, until he realises that the frantic sounds he can hear are coming from his own throat.

Dean breaks away from his mouth and Castiel hears a soft moan of disappointment from his own throat. But Dean's staring at him, eyes wide, and it's only then that Castiel realises that he isn't the only one struggling for breath.

"What is it?" he says, when he thinks he can speak again.

Dean stares at him. "Nothing" he says, his voice far softer than Castiel is used to. "It's just-I've never seen you like this before, you know?"

Castiel feels his head tilt to the side-he tries to stop his head doing that whenever something confuses him but it seems to be a stubborn habit. "What do you mean?"

Dean sucks in a breath and a small laugh breaks from his lips. "I mean-" he says, blinking, lips twitching for a moment. "God, Cas, just-you like this-I mean, when I think of what you were like when I met you-all "good-soldier, must-stay-in-control, remember-duty" blah blah blah-and just-looking at you now-" Dean's cheeks are flushing scarlet as he speaks and his eyes roam up and down Castiel's body with a look that makes Castiel suddenly feel breathless all over again.

But his mind lingers on what Dean has said. He remembers what it was like before he met Dean and Sam. How simple things were in some ways. How willingly he obeyed. How calm he was, how certain in his Father's intentions. There was no room for doubts, even if they persisted at Castiel's mind. He must learn to put those away, to be a soldier, to be inscrutable, to never waver, never let others see, even if those doubts persist in his own mind, in those niggling thoughts that will not leave, no matter how much attention he pays them.

And never let his own emotions get in the way of what must be done.

And then Castiel, with a jolt as abrupt as if he'd been dropped to the floor, can see what he must look like now-his eyes wide, his cheeks scarlet, and his chest heaving for breath, his head spinning and Dean Winchester's mouth an inch from his, his skin begging for more of Dean's lips and hands and tongue and just more.

He can picture what his brothers and sisters would think if they looked at him now.

Lustful. Sin. Debauched. Weakness.

And then one of Dean's fingers ghosts down Castiel's jaw and another moan breaks from his throat, because if this is wrong, then how can it feel so good, how can it feel so right-

And then Dean's lips are an inch away and when they move, they're almost touching Castiel's and for a second, his mind's dissolving in heat and gasps and wanting.

"Cas" and Dean's voice is low. "Hey. Cas, look at me."

It takes an effort but Castiel lets his eyes meet Dean's.

"Cas-" and Dean's finger's still ghosting up and down. "Hey. I didn't mean to freak you out. I just meant-I've never seen you like this before."

"I know." And Castiel does know. It's not Dean's fault that he's panicking. But he can't seem to forget the fact that the reason Dean has never seen him like this before is because he's never felt like this before, with anyone.

And that feels like standing on a cliff, leaning forward and letting himself fall. And trusting Dean to catch him.

"Cas, Cas-hey, Cas-" and Dean's hand's on his shoulder now, rubbing concernedly through the material. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Castiel bites his lip but Dean's hand slides under his chin. "Cas" and Dean's voice is the thing he clings onto, the thing he clings onto even when he feels everything else is slipping away. "Talk to me."

Castiel swallows, and Dean's lips part for a second before he drags a hand through his hair. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, Cas."

"What?" Castiel stares for a second before he realises the implications of what Dean's suggesting. "Dean, you think I don't find this enjoyable?"

Dean's eyes narrow and he shrugs. "No, it's just-you seem kind of-"

"I want to continue this as much as you do."

The words are out of Castiel's mouth before he realises what he's said, and he feels his eyes widen.

Dean swallows and for a second, they're watching each other. And then Dean raises his hand to Castiel's cheek, his thumb dancing across his lips and Castiel's mind spins all over again.

"OK" says Dean and there's a small crack in his voice this time. "But-what's wrong?"

Castiel swallows. "Dean, I-" He can't meet Dean's eyes. He can't, so he stares at their laps instead. "I have never felt anything like this before."

Dean frowns. "Cas, you've had sex-"

"It wasn't like this, Dean" and Castiel doesn't dare to look at Dean Winchester right now.

He doesn't dare and he can't just leave the sentence like that, he can't, so he goes on. "I mean-it was quick." That much, at least, was true. "And it-it wasn't-as good as-" He freezes but the words are already out.

And Dean keeps watching him, one hand on his shoulder, and then he nods slowly. "I get what you're saying" he says and that voice is there again, the soft one, that makes Castiel's shoulders go limp with relief. "Man, the first few times-they can be kind of-" Dean shakes his head, apparently searching for the right word.

"Overwhelming" Castiel provides, seeking to help in at least one way.

Dean nods. "Cas-" And his thumb traces under Castiel's lips again, nudging them into a smile. "It's OK, you know? We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He shrugs. "Just tell me if you want to stop. OK?"

Castiel bites his lip. This sounds OK. But-

"It's not just that" he says and he hates the words he's got to say next because he can already picture the curl of Dean's lip when he says them.

"In Heaven, we-" He keeps his eyes on his lap as he speaks. "This kind of pleasure was always-always regarded as-"

Dean doesn't look away. "Regarded as-" He gestures, indicating for Castiel to continue. "Regarded as what?"

Castiel swallows and doesn't look up as he speaks. "Sinful."

There's a stunned silence, during which he hears Dean mutter something distinctly unheavenly. Castiel feels himself wince.

"I understand you are-" he begins but Dean's already speaking.

"Man, Cas" and he pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers before he raises his head to meet Castiel's eyes. And Castiel feels a jolt, a physical jolt, in his chest at the sight of Dean's glare.

But Dean's hand's still on his shoulder-gentle, almost comforting. Castiel frowns. This situation is becoming more and more confusing by the minute.

Dean's teeth are gritted and he seems to almost find it impossible to speak. "Cas, I knew your brothers were a bunch of flying dicks but-"

Castiel's brow furrows. "Not all of them." Balthazar, for example, would never have followed the same protocol, nor Gabriel.

Dean shakes his head. "Cas, seriously-" And his hand tips Castiel's chin up to face him. "You've spent this whole time thinking that sex feeling good was bad?"

Castiel feels himself squirm slightly. "I-I didn't consider it-a negative act. I simply-"

But Dean finishes the sentence for him. "Felt guilty."

Castiel swallows. "Yes" he says quietly and Dean closes his eyes for a moment, keeping his hand on Castiel's shoulder.

There's a long moment of silence and then Dean opens his eyes and fixes his gaze on Castiel's. "Cas" he says and his voice is low now, almost as low as Castiel's himself. "There's nothing wrong with feeling good."

Castiel is about to say "I know" but something in Dean's eyes stops him. He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to say it again but he can't, somehow. Instead, the breath he lets out is shaky and somehow, there's a lightness spreading through him, as if something's just been lifted from his shoulders that he hadn't even realised he was carrying.

Dean leans forward and his eyes widen. "Hey, hey, Cas-" and then his arms slide around Castiel's shoulders and he pulls Castiel's head against his neck, one hand stroking his hair. "It's OK-" and Dean just keeps petting him gently, one hand still running through his hair over and over. "It's OK. You're not bad. It's really great, when it feels right. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. It's fine. It's me. You're with me."

Castiel keeps his face pressed into Dean's neck for another moment until he feels a little steadier, less likely to lose control of his breathing and feel his face crumple the way it is now. He takes deep breaths, inhaling more of Dean's particular scent, and doesn't even notice until he sits back up that his fingers have been curled tight round the fabric of Dean's jacket, holding on as if Dean is the only thing in the world to keep him upright.

Dean's hand's splayed on his chest now, and Castiel knows his heart's pounding. Dean looks at him. "What do you want to do, Cas?" he says and there's no hidden meaning to the question. It's simple and honest and Castiel feels himself relax under Dean's hand, relax and let all the ideas about what is sinful and wrong and human weakness fall out of his head, under the weight of the thoughts pooling in his brain, thoughts that whisper in his dreams of what he wants.

He looks at Dean and whispers "I want you to keep going."

Dean's lips twitch in a small smile. "You sure?"

Castiel could back out. He could hold onto the safe option, even when it leaves him desperate and needy and wanting.

But there's Dean in front of him, and it's Dean. Dean and that makes all the difference.

And so too, do the thoughts telling him that he's allowed to want this. This, with Dean. He's allowed this.

Zachariah would have said this was hubris but Castiel pushes all thoughts of his brother's words out of his mind and focuses on Dean's mouth and Dean's eyes and-

Yes. This.

"I want you to keep kissing me" he says and his voice is stronger this time. His heart is racing and he forces himself to meet Dean's eyes. "That's what I want, Dean."

Dean's lips twitch in that smile again. "OK" he says, as if it's what he expected all along, as if Castiel hasn't just asked for something that feels greater than asking for the sky for his own and Dean simply leans in and tilts his mouth back to Castiel's.

Castiel's thoughts disappear under Dean's mouth on his. Everything seems to disappear but Dean's mouth on his. Dean's mouth and Castiel's lips and softness and heat and warmth, and his body taut and tense all over but in the best possible way.

Castiel didn't know it would feel like this. He didn't know that he'd want Dean to bury his face in the crook of his neck, that Castiel would find himself mouthing frantic words against Dean's skin that were a mixture of broken English and half-Enochian, and that Dean's hands wouldn't be enough through his clothes and he'd find himself grabbing at them, yanking them against his coat, desperate for more sensation and desperate little noises crawling out of his throat the whole time.

"Here, Cas-" and Dean's tugging at the bottom of his shirt now and oh Castiel feels his head fall to the side and a breathy little moan drops out of his throat.

"You like this?" and Dean's eyes meet his and Castiel nods, any thoughts of control gone, his only constant thought being to get Dean to keep doing whatever it is he's doing. "You want more of this, Cas?"

Castiel nods and he feels Dean's name spill from his lips in a low growl. "Dean."

Dean lets out a slow gasp and this time, his fingers slide under the material and a second later, they skim across Castiel's stomach and Castiel can't breathe, can't talk, under the sensation, and he feels his eyes roll-

There's the sound of a door opening further forward in the bunker and Dean's mouth freezes pressed against Castiel's neck and they both hear, quite clearly, the sound of Sam's voice calling out "Guys?"

Dean mutters the same unheavenly phrase from earlier and then sits up. "OK, OK-" and he tugs Castiel's shirt back down, pats helplessly at his hair and Castiel pictures how rumpled his head must appear right now. Dean's drawing deep breaths and his cheeks are flushed and Castiel feels his brow furrow at the realisation that he must look similarly guilty.

The word guilty makes a shiver run down his spine but it isn't the same as it used to be.

Dean swallows. "OK. Remember-" and he places a finger to Castiel's lips. Castiel nods, and he tries to remember that this is just practice. Of course it is.

It has to be.

When Sam walks into the room, Dean and Castiel are sitting on the bed, Dean with a magazine in his hands, and Castiel staring straight ahead, having been unable to come up with an appropriate action to suggest to Sam that he and Dean most definitely did not engage in the act of making out during his absence from the bunker.

"Guys?" Sam is looking at them with an arched eyebrow and Dean takes a moment to look up at him. "What's up, Sammy?"

Sam cocks his head to the side. "Why are you back here?"

Dean glances about as if he's only just realised that they are, in fact, back there. "No reason." He gestures at the magazine. "Reading."

Sam looks at him. "Dean, that magazine's upside down."

Dean stares at his brother for a moment, before he lifts the magazine again, stares at the cover, and then lifts his eyes again. His mouth opens and closes but Sam's already looking at Castiel with his lips twitching in what looks suspiciously like a smirk.

"What are you doing, Cas?"

Castiel hastily tries to rearrange his thoughts to conjure something he could be doing perfectly innocently in Dean's bedroom. Unfortunately, his thoughts lead somewhere else entirely, especially given that he's currently sitting on Dean's bed.

He hopes Sam won't notice how rapidly he's crossed his legs but the hunter's smirk grows even more broad, if that was possible.

"I-" The words seem to be stuck in Castiel's mouth for a moment. He stares at Sam for a full moment before finally coming up with his answer.

"I was doing nothing."

There's a long moment of silence during which Castiel ponders whether or not this lie would be considered vaguely plausible to any human. He is not looking at Dean but from what he can see out of the corner of one eye, he appears to be wincing.

Sam nods slowly, the corners of his mouth now twitching. "Right. Of course you were."

Dean looks up sharply. "Hey, Sammy-"

Sam holds up a hand. "Hey, no need to explain." He's already heading for the door but his lips are still twitching and before the door closes behind him, there's an explosive burst of laughter.

"Sammy!" Dean's already on his feet, dragging his hand through his hair. He turns to look at Castiel and Castiel feels something tug sharply in his chest at the sight of the expression on Dean's face.

"Cas-" says Dean but Castiel is already speaking. "I am sorry-"

But Dean holds up a hand. "Hey-" and then his hand cups Castiel's cheek which makes Castiel frown because they're not practicing anymore. But he doesn't pull away.

"Don't-" and Dean sighs and closes his eyes. "Don't worry about it, OK? I'll-fix it."

Castiel feels a sharp knot of panic tighten in his stomach. "You won't tell Sam-"

Dean shakes his head. "Jeez, Cas. No way." He lets a finger flick the end of Castiel's nose gently, then, something he's never done before, and which for some reason, sends his thoughts right back to that moment when Dean's nails had just gently caught the skin on Castiel's stomach. He wonders if there'll be any marks left behind and then wonders why that sends his groin into a riot of sensation all over again.

"Just-don't worry about it" says Dean and for some reason, Castiel can't find the words to tell him that he won't. So he just nods instead.

---

Sam goes out again the next day, which Castiel puzzles over-Sam doesn't usually need to leave the bunker this often. But then again, this grants Castiel more time alone with Dean, which would be something he looked forward to immensely, if it weren't for the nagging worry tugging at his mind that Dean may not want to practice with him anymore.

With this in mind, he waits for a few moments after Sam leaves before he approaches Dean and says "Do you wish to practice again today?"

Dean lets his eyes flicker to Castiel's and his lips part for a moment. Castiel feels himself flinch but hastily schools his face into an inscrutable mask, the way he used to whenever he was commanded to perform an undesirable task, a task he would accomplish whilst trying all the while to push away the voice in his head that whispered that this, in fact, was wrong.

Castiel also remembers that it was Dean who taught him to listen to that voice more often.

But then Dean lifts his eyes back to Castiel's and says "Yeah." Just that but his lips twitch in that smile again and he jerks his head back towards the bedroom.

It's when they get inside and Castiel takes his seat on the bed with no hesitation this time that Dean tilts his head to the side and says "Look, Cas-"

Castiel immediately tries to school his face back into its' old inscrutable expression but he isn't sure how successful he is this time.

"Cas-" Dean chews at his lip for a moment before he draws in a deep breath and says "Look, buddy, I'm just going to be straight with you, OK?"

Castiel swallows. "OK."

Dean looks away. "Cas-you know most guys don't do this stuff, right?"

Castiel nods slowly. "I am aware that it is not considered the norm."

Dean looks at him for a moment with narrowed eyes and then nods. "Right. But I mean-are you-still-OK...with that?"

Castiel swallows. He wonders if this one of those techniques humans use to be polite.

"I-am still interested in this-practicing-" he says, slowly, and tries to keep his expression as clear and free from emotion as possible.

Dean's hand falls onto his shoulder. "Hey" and there's a certain catch in the hunter's voice that makes Castiel look up at him to see that Dean's eyes are examining his face curiously. "I still want to as well, Cas, don't worry." Dean's thumb rises to his lip and he nibbles at the skin cautiously, and Castiel catches hold of it unthinkingly. Dean watches him, eyebrow arching.

"I guess, Cas, I meant-" Dean stares at him a second more and then says "Doesn't matter. What do you want to do?"

Castiel swallows. He rather desperately wants to ask exactly what Dean was going to say but his interest's hampered by the fact that Dean is so close to him, his skin so warm and near-

Human emotions really are rather inconvenient, at times.

But then Dean's smirk is back and he says "What do you feel like, Cas?" and Castiel remembers that as inconvenient as they can be, there are some definite benefits, too.

"I want-" and his voice catches in his throat. "I want-" But his thought process seems to have come to a stop, seems to have stopped thinking of anything except how good it would feel to have Dean's mouth against him right now.

His brain isn't just thinking of Dean's mouth against his anymore and he feels his cheeks flush scarlet.

Dean's smirk is wicked, dark, and it seems to slip under Castiel's skin like something lethal in the best kind of way. "You're blushing bright red, you know?"

Castiel tries to scowl but he can feel his lips twitching. Yes, human bodies are definitely inconvenient at times.

Dean laughs and he slides his hand under Castiel's chin. Castiel's eyes flicker closed and his lips part, opening for Dean's mouth.

But Dean changes tactics, heading for the side of Castiel's neck this time, and his mouth is hot and warm. Castiel feels his eyes roll a little and a sound spills out of his throat, low and desperate.

"This what you've been thinking about, Cas, huh?" and Dean moves his mouth over that spot that makes Castiel's eyes roll again, his hips jerking frantically.

Dean's words have an edge of darkness to them this time, and when his mouth finally captures Castiel's, the angel thinks dazedly that Dean Winchester tastes like the best flavour of sin-which is ridiculous because sin doesn't even have a taste of course, no matter how often humans refer to-

And then Dean slides his hand under Castiel's shirt again and Castiel's thoughts seem to explode in a burst of sensation, something under his skin that is both beautiful and at the same time makes him ache and oh he wants and his whole body wants to move and his skin is damp and it's so hot, and oh, it's hot and oh, and oh-

Dean's laugh echoes against his skin. "You've been dreaming about this, huh, Cas? Lying back like this, moaning, begging for me?"

Castiel can't find words. He can't even think of any words. He can barely speak. The only sounds he can make come from the back of his throat and they're gasps and moans and sounds he doesn't think he's ever made in his life before, along with half-broken words of English and Enochian at once.

"God-" and the thrill of hearing his father's name used like this, from the mouth of Dean Winchester of all people, sends Castiel's hips flying up and this time they're met with Dean's, and he feels something hard in Dean's jeans, something which his hips rock against desperately and his eyes open again at the sensation.

"Cas-" and Dean looks at him with those eyes, those eyes, and Castiel can't even begin to imagine what he himself must look like right now, with his hair tousled and his skin damp and his chest heaving-

And he's never been this out of control before. Or rather, he's never been this out of control and so immersed in the experience before, and he's gasping and his head tossing back and forth and a thrill of excitement rushes through him at the thought of the control he's giving Dean right now, a thrill of excitement and something else, something that feels very like fear.

Castiel hates being afraid.

His hips stop thrusting against Dean's of their own accord. He feels himself go still for a moment, the sweat cooling on his skin. Dean stops mouthing against Castiel's skin and he lifts his head, his eyes narrowing. "Cas?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I-I'm sorry-" and this cannot be happening again, there cannot be tears pooling in his eyes again, there can't, there can't, there can't-

"Castiel-" and Dean's hand slides up to Castiel's chin. "Hey. Hey, was it too much?" and Dean presses a kiss to Castiel's cheek and the sheer gentleness of it is too much and a broken sob comes from Castiel's throat, and Dean slides his hands into Castiel's hair. "Cas. Cas, look at me." Castiel does, slowly. "What is it, man? Talk to me."

Castiel shakes because this is just kissing. Just kissing and touching and why are there tears on his cheeks and everything's so much.

"Dean" and his voice breaks and then Dean's arms wrap around Castiel's shoulders, and his voice whispers against his skin. "What is it, man? You can talk to me, Cas."

Castiel whispers the words against his skin, as if that might make them quieter to his ears. "I'm scared, Dean."

Dean pulls back. "What are you scared of?"

Castiel struggles to find words and for a moment, they pile up in his mouth. Dean nods gently, encouraging him to take his time.

"Everything" he blurts out and he lets his head rest on Dean's shoulder. "Being human, being mortal...it was much more difficult than I anticipated."

Dean lets his thumb brush Castiel's cheek. "'Course it was, Cas. You'd basically just been freaking born. And you didn't have a year as a baby to get used to it. I think you coped pretty damn well."

Castiel shakes his head. "It's not just that-"

"Then what is it?" Dean watches him, his eyes an inch away and his lips there, soft and pink and Castiel wants them against his.

He shakes his head and then he burrows his head against Dean's chest, and he doesn't know why. He is Castiel, angel of the Lord. Commander of a garrison. And yet, he's had to learn how to eat and drink. And he might not need to anymore, but he remembers what it was like. Being human has taught him some unpleasant things.

He doesn't know how to shop. He barely knew how to live alone. He might be able to smite demons out of existence and travel anywhere he wanted, within a second but when it came to life as a simple human, Castiel had failed, and now he is curled up against Dean Winchester's chest, crying like a terrified child.

He was powerful and then he was not. And it could happen again.

All he can do is whisper "Scared" and clutch at Dean, some crazed part of his mind thinking that if he doesn't hold on as tight as he can, Dean too, might disappear.

Dean presses a kiss to his hair, and his arms wrap around Castiel's shoulders. "Cas-" and Dean's own voice breaks as he whispers into Castiel's hair. "What are you scared of, buddy?"

Castiel whimpers and the words claw at the back of his throat. Dean's voice keeps whispering. "You can tell me, Cas." There's a pause and then "You can tell me anything."

It's those words that undo him, that pull the words from his throat. "I'm scared of this" he says and his voice comes out a low growl, wracked with unshed sobs. "I'm scared of this, of what I want. I've never wanted anything like this before, Dean" and the truth of the words shock him to his core. "I've always been able to ignore it, but now-" His hands knot in Dean's shirt and he clings on tight, terrified the hunter will pull away any second. "I can't think of anything else but kissing you and it scares me because I-I-"

"Shh" and Dean keeps rubbing his back, and even through his trench coat, it's comforting. "Shh, Cas, it's OK, we can stop if you want, I promise-"

"No-" and Castiel's head snaps up to look at him. "I don't-I don't want to stop-and that's what scares me, Dean." His voice is quieter now, but he can still feel the evidence of tears on his face and he scrubs at them impatiently with the sleeve of his trench coat, feeling more like a child than ever. He remembers Dean's words from years ago baby in a trench coat and he feels himself flinch from the remembered shame that had flooded through him even then. He had imagined life without his grace and how helpless he would be.

And now he knows what that is like firsthand.

He looks at Dean and takes a deep breath, willing himself to speak in a steadier voice. "I want this, Dean, and that makes me afraid. I've never been so-so-" He hesitates as he tries to think of a suitable phrase. "So out of control before" he finally says. "And I-I'm not used to it."

Dean nods slowly. "Cas-" He passes a hand over his face and then his arm slides around Castiel's shoulders. "Cas, that's totally normal."

Castiel swallows and Dean nods. "No, really, it is. You were always this weird, all-powerful thing. And now, you'll probably feel like-even if you're enjoying it-it's a little weird to let someone else be in control."

Castiel nods. "Yes" he says and his shoulders sink a little with the relief that Dean has understood. And then his lip trembles again and he doesn't want to cry anymore, but a few tears spill over anyway.

Dean's arm slides around him. "Listen" he says and he presses another kiss to Castiel's forehead. "We can take it slower, all right? We can. And Cas, if it helps any-" He lets his lips rest on Castiel's forehead. "I will never hurt you. You listening, Cas? I'd freaking die for you." And his hands squeeze Castiel's shoulders. "I would" he says again, as if he's afraid Castiel might doubt him.

Castiel meets his eyes and gives Dean a shaky nod. And then he asks "Will you kiss me?" and his voice comes out in a whisper.

Dean laughs. "You need to ask, Cas?" and he pulls the angel's mouth to his. His lips are warm and soft and much gentler than they were earlier and Castiel finds himself relaxing into it almost immediately. He lets himself lean against Dean's shoulder and when Dean's mouth moves to his neck, he sighs and doesn't fight down the small humming sound that rises in the back of his throat, the soft sigh that leaves his lips as Dean pulls away.

Dean looks at him and the words rise to Castiel's lips before he can hold them back. "Can I tell you something, Dean?" he says and his mind is pulled back to that time on the bench, when he had leaned over and murmured Can I tell you something, if you promise not to tell another soul. At the time, he hadn't known why he wanted to tell Dean Winchester what he thought about their mission, their mission, which sometimes he didn't even dare speak of to other angels. He hadn't known why he wanted Dean to listen to him, with those green eyes and that expression he got when he was listening to his little brother speak. He hadn't known why then.

But Dean is watching him now, watching him with those green eyes and his voice is soft as he says "Yeah, Cas?"

Castiel closes his eyes for a moment for courage and then the words spill out before he's even thought about them. "It doesn't feel like just practicing anymore."

His eyes open and he scrutinises Dean's expression and his heart is suddenly hammering against his chest, because what if, what if, what if and all he can think of are Dean's hands slamming into his shoulders and pushing him away.

Dean's eyes are frozen on Castiel's and for a moment, his lips part a little, his eyes blinking, and Castiel feels a shiver of something cold and dark, a nameless dread, run down his spine. But then Dean's hand raises to Castiel's jaw and his thumb runs, nervously, more nervously than it ever has before, down his cheek.

"Maybe we're not" and Dean's voice is hoarse and breaks in his throat.

Castiel feels his own lips part and his heart rate pick up against his ribs, and there suddenly doesn't seem to be enough air in the room. His eyes flicker to Dean's lips and back again. They stare at each other and Dean doesn't look away so neither does Castiel. He doesn't want to.

And that's when, somewhere near the front of the bunker, the door opens.

This time, when Sam comes into the room, Dean and Cas are sitting with Dean's arm around Castiel's shoulders and Sam doesn't even look surprised. He does, however, bite back a grin which causes Dean to arch an eyebrow and throw out a "What, Sammy?" that has Sam holding up his hands and backing away, still with that grin on his face. But Dean doesn't move from the bed and his arm stays around Castiel's shoulders the whole time.

---

It's a day before they're alone again.

Sam has never needed to go out this often before.

And his lips are still twitching when he leaves.

Castiel waits a moment before he walks into the living room to face Dean. His heart is thudding against his chest and his stomach is in an uncomfortable knot that makes him wish for a moment that he could lock himself in his room and not come out until Dean has forgotten about the whole thing.

But then Castiel reminds himself that as a former angel of the Lord, and one who has fought in heavenly battles, been God, been dead, been exploded and recently had to hold down a job in a supermarket, he really ought to-as Dean would say-show a little more grit.

And so he walks down the hallway to where Dean sits in the living room, once again holding a magazine that is upside down.

Castiel really thinks he needs to speak to Dean about this habit, maybe suggest the hunter getting his eyes tested.

"Dean?" he says, and it takes the hunter a moment to look up.

"Hey, Cas" and the way the hunter's eyes run up and down Castiel's body starts a sensation somewhere below his stomach, a sensation which is still quite unfamiliar to him, but is becoming more and more familiar the longer Dean and he continue this practicing-which should be annoying, Castiel thinks, especially since the whole aim of this practicing was to eradicate this problem.

But somehow, it isn't as annoying as he expected.

Castiel opens his mouth but finds that, for some reason, the words aren't coming to his lips. "I-" He swallows and he doesn't dare to meet Dean's eyes. "I-um-was wondering-you said-you said-" Castiel is aware that he seems to have become an angelic tape recorder programmed to play the same thing over and over.

Dean smiles. "Yeah? What did I say?" But there's something dimmer in his eyes today, something quieter in his smile.

Castiel feels a coldness creeping into his chest. "Dean?" he says and no matter how hard he tries, he can't disguise the tremble in his voice, the crack in the words that crawl out of his throat. He isn't sure he wants to try.

Dean puts down the magazine-still upside down-and takes a deep breath. "Look, man, we got to talk." He makes his way past Castiel with an effort to make his voice sound normal but Castiel catches a glimpse of the hunter's eyes as he passes and what he sees looks a lot less like normal and a great deal like panic.

He stays quiet as they make their way back to Dean's bedroom, which seems to have become their unofficial place of practice. Castiel could think of worse places but right now, he is too busy thinking miserably that this might be the last time he is ever allowed in here.

Dean sits down on the bed and when Castiel remains standing, pats the duvet next to him. "Sit down, Cas."

Castiel swallows. Dean is not averse to him sitting on his bed. He takes that as a good sign.

He sinks down slowly, careful to leave an inch of space between himself and Dean, even though his every instinct is begging for him to lean his head on Dean's shoulder, to feel Dean's warmth. But Dean's eyes are still watching him and there's still a hint of that panic from earlier.

Castiel tries once again not to sound wary but his voice betrays him. "Is there something wrong, Dean?"

Dean pushes a hand over his face and Castiel realises they could well be repeating the same conversation as yesterday. That Dean might well be planning to repeat the same conversation as yesterday. When what Castiel wants is to discuss exactly what Dean meant yesterday when he looked into Castiel's eyes when Castiel told him it didn't feel like practicing anymore and said Maybe we're not.

But he presses his lips together for a second because he wants to wait for Dean to speak, because he doesn't know what Dean will say if Castiel tells him he wants him to continue with whatever he was going to say next yesterday, that he wants Dean to hang onto whatever bit of courage had snuck its' way into his chest the day before and made those words crawl out of his mouth. That he wants Dean to say it, whatever it is, say it before he has the chance to get afraid again.

Castiel remembers those words Dean had spoken to him so long ago now, the hunter's eyes on his, his own thoughts frantic, a wild puddle of doubt and confusion and most of all, fear. So much fear.

There is a right and a wrong here, and you know it.

And he had known it. If he was honest, he had known it for so long, those doubts that had lingered in the back of his mind, whispering in his ears. Maybe since even before he met Dean Winchester.

But it was Dean Winchester that helped those doubts rise to the surface.

When Castiel thinks back to who he used to be, it frightens him a little.

But it had been Dean, Dean who had stood there, and refused to look away, refused to let Castiel look away, that had made him paint those symbols on that wall. That had made him turn and stare at Zachariah and clamp a hand to those sigils, to divert from that long-thought-out, carefully-ironed plan, and begin, with Dean, to write a new chapter. Making it up as they went.

A practice in improvisation, as it were.

And now it's Dean who lets his eyes flicker to Castiel's, hesitantly, and then flicker away. His lips part as if he wants to say something, and then the words die before they get to his lips.

Castiel remembers words spilling from his own mouth yesterday. I'm afraid.

And how Dean's arms had wrapped around his shoulders.

And now he looks at Dean and thinks the same thing. Only, this time, he thinks You're afraid.

And he thinks of Dean Winchester, eyes on his, not letting him look away.

And that's when Castiel takes hold of Dean's chin in his hand and pulls the hunter's head up so that Dean Winchester's eyes, green and confused and tinged with fear and maybe the faintest hint of hope, meet his. "I want to talk about what you said yesterday, Dean" and his voice sounds more certain this time.

Dean Winchester stares back and his mouth opens and closes for a moment. "Look, man-" he starts to say and then Castiel's hand covers his lips, and Dean's eyes widen and for a moment Castiel is reminded irresistibly of the moment he pushed Dean against that wall, that moment he turned away from heaven and towards what he felt and what was right and Dean, and the moment it all changed.

"I want to tell you, Dean" and he knows that the words are out of his mouth and there's no turning back. Maybe there hasn't been since the first time he asked Dean to help him practice.

Castiel is terrified. His heart is hammering against his ribs and his thoughts are a mess and the words that he's about to pour out are a mess, letters and sounds jumbled together, but he's not holding them back. He's not holding them back and he can feel his eyes narrowing and emotion playing across his face and his control is broken. It's broken and it's the scariest thing Castiel has ever felt. Even when human, his control didn't completely break, not like this.

But it does for Dean Winchester.

"I want to tell you-what you said yesterday-I want to tell you-" And he's gabbling, he knows it, and he can feel his cheeks flushing scarlet and his heart pounding and he doesn't think, even before he regained grace, that he has ever felt so terrifyingly, unrestrainedly human as he does now.

And he holds onto Dean's shirt with both hands and he says "You said maybe we're not. Maybe we're not practicing."

Dean doesn't look away. He stares back, his own eyes wide. "Cas-" he says and the name is a whisper. But it's not a rejection either, and Castiel tries to take comfort from that.

"Dean" he says, and his voice sounds low and raw even to him, but he doesn't try to sound calmer. He doesn't want to try to sound calmer. "Dean. I want to keep practicing with you."

He sees a flash of some undefinable emotion across Dean's eyes. He swallows and forces the words out, forces them past the fear churning through his whole body. "I want it to be more than practicing, Dean."

Dean stares back at him and Castiel wants so much to close his eyes. Wants so much to run away and pretend this whole conversation never happened. Wants so much to turn back time and have this whole conversation not happen.

But he stays sitting on the bed, sitting an inch from Dean Winchester, gasping for breath as if he's just run for miles and only now finally reached his destination.

Dean's staring at him and he says his name again. "Cas." But this time, the whisper is awestruck. Almost reverent. And Castiel feels the heat of it like a flame inside his chest.

But he needs to hear it. Needs to hear it from Dean's lips. So his hands fasten in Dean's shirt and he says "You were going to say it yesterday. You were going to finish. Why didn't you?"

Dean swallows and stares back. "Cas-"

Castiel shakes his head. "Why didn't you?"

Dean looks away. He presses a hand over his eyes. "Cas-" and the word grates in the back of his throat this time, and that's it, Castiel's had enough, and his voice is louder now.

"Why, Dean?" and he doesn't care if he's shouting, because Dean's head is snapping up to look at him and those eyes are narrowed and at least this that he's seeing now, this is honest, this is true.

"Because I'm freaking poison, Cas" and Dean's voice breaks halfway through the words as they're wrenched from his throat. "God, you're meant to be a freaking angel. How the hell can you not see that?" He stares at Castiel, his cheeks flushed, his chest heaving for breath, and Castiel realises how he himself must have looked after each practice session for the last few days.

This does not help with keeping his mind on the situation at all but he senses that now is not the time to lean in and kiss Dean. Instead, he stares back. Stares because for a moment he can't find the words to say what seems so obvious to him and what Dean apparently never sees.

Dean is still breathing hard and those eyes are wide and look a little damper than usual. "I'm dangerous for you, Cas" he says, and his voice is hoarser, closer to breaking. "I'm freaking poison. Every single damn thing I get near-" and that's when his voice breaks and he scrubs impatiently at his eyes, the same way Castiel has done the last few days. "It gets screwed up."

Castiel stares and Dean scrubs both hands more fiercely across his eyes. "Goddamnit."

Castiel reaches out a hand. He does it slowly, afraid that Dean will push it away, and then with more confidence, as he wipes his hand across Dean's cheek, catching each of his tears. Dean lifts his head and stares at him, as Castiel wipes his eyes for him. Castiel stares back silently for a moment, and he wants to kiss Dean now, and for the first time ever, doesn't resent these physical inconveniences.

"Dean" he says, and his own voice is low. "You are not poison to me."

Dean's voice breaks into a harsh laugh. "Don't lie to me, Cas."

"I am not" and Castiel doesn't care that he sounds like a child. His hands knot once again in the fabric of Dean's shirt. "I am not lying to you, Dean. You are not poison to me. You are-" His hands twist the fabric and the words spill out again. "You are mine."

Dean Winchester looks up and that glitter is back in his eyes again, that thing that Castiel would dare to name as hope. "Cas-"

Castiel shakes his head. "You taught me not to be afraid" he whispers and he pulls Dean closer. "And I am afraid. I can't stop being afraid. But I can't stop being near you. I am not afraid of you." He yanks Dean closer so their foreheads touch. "I fell for you, Dean Winchester" and the words come out as a low growl. "I do everything for you."

Dean's staring and his lips part but no sound comes out this time. Castiel is glad. Because he needs to keep talking and he doesn't know if he could start again if he stopped.

"I want to be with you-" and he's gasping for breath but he keeps going. "I want this to be more than practicing, Dean. Even if I didn't know it, that's what I want-" and there's an ache in his chest at how true the words are. He stares at Dean, Dean who has become the centre of everything to him. Dean, who he thinks of whenever he thinks of love though he had never let himself realise this before now. Dean. His Dean, who he has dragged out of hell, whose soul he has held in his hands. His Dean Winchester.

"I want you" he says and he doesn't care if he's repeating himself. "No matter how broken you believe yourself to be. I want you, Dean Winchester. " He stares at the hunter and this time, his thumb moves softly over Dean's cheek, drawing comforting circles. And the words rise quite easily to his lips, and fall out into the air between them.

"I love you, Dean" he says simply and watches Dean Winchester's eyes widen as the words sink in.

"Cas-" and Dean shakes his head. "I'm so freaking scared, Cas" he says, and there's nothing in the tone but a painful, ragged truth.

"I know" and Castiel does know. He knows fear more than he's ever wanted to.

"I thought I could keep it just practicing" Dean says, and the words crack in his throat. "I thought I could keep you safe. And I'm so freaking scared, Cas, because goddamnit, I don't want to hurt you."

Castiel leans forward. "You won't" he whispers. "And if you do, I can take it. I won't break, Dean" and he knows it's true now. He has survived many things. He has survived as a human. He has survived without Dean. He can survive pain. "I won't" he says and that's when he's glad he's spent so much time practicing with Dean because it means when he leans in and his mouth crashes into the hunter's, he has some idea of what to do.

This is the first time Castiel has led the kiss. This is the first time he's led any kiss and he's so scared, he's so completely scared, but he keeps doing it, he keeps kissing Dean, even as his hands slide into his hair and he moves closer, so close he's almost sitting in Dean's lap. His hands slide up Dean's shirt and he doesn't stop, even when Dean tips his head back, a low moan breaking from his throat. He doesn't stop, his fingers playing over Dean's ribs gently, his fingertips skating over Dean's stomach, trying to repeat the movements that Dean has already done for him.

"Dean" and he gasps against the skin of Dean's neck and then Dean makes an angry desperate sound low in his throat and drags Castiel's mouth back to his.

"Cas" and now it's Dean leading, his hands pushing Castiel's coat and suit off his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, and Castiel lets him, dragging at the bottom of Dean's T-shirt too, until they're pressed chest to chest. Castiel knew this happened but he's never felt this before, this desperate need to crawl all over Dean, to get as much of their skin touching as possible. He moans and he yanks at his own pants, trying to get them off as quickly as possible, and perfectly willing to concede that Dean might be the more experienced party in this department.

"Easy, Cas-" and Dean helps him with them, before turning his attention to his own. Castiel lets his eyes flicker down to his boxers which seem too tight and he wants to pull them off, he wants Dean to-

Dean kisses his stomach hesitantly, uncertainly and Castiel feels a low growl of frustration build in his throat. He's almost writhing with how much he needs something, anything, and he feels as though he might go out of his skin with need, and this feels delicious and right and even the thought of his brothers' faces if they could see what Castiel is doing now doesn't send any fear through him. Instead, it sends a thrill of not caring through his chest and he lifts his head enough to growl once again "I won't break, Dean."

Dean looks at him and this time, their eyes meet and Dean whispers "I know, Cas."

And then he moves his mouth lower and Castiel realises that he got one thing wrong-he will break but when he does, it will be the best thing in the world.

And it is.

---

It's later, when they're lying wrapped around each other, Castiel's head buried in Dean's shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin, that Dean says "Enough practicing yet, Cas?"

Castiel stares at him. "Maybe" he says and he'd say more if it wasn't for the sound of footsteps echoing down the bunker hall.

Dean freezes, and Sam's voice calls ahead. "Look, guys, if you need to get your clothes on or something, I-" And then he stops dead in the doorway, and the teasing lilt drops out of his voice.

He just stares for a moment. Castiel stares back. So does Dean. There is a long moment of mutual staring.

And then Dean says "You'll what, Sammy?"

Sam stares at them for another moment before he says "Of all the things I had to say, I said that."

He turns around, slamming the door behind them.

Castiel feels his eyes narrow. "Is your brother all right?"

Dean laughs and Castiel can feel the sound low in his chest. "He's fine. A bit freaked, but fine. He'll get over it."

Castiel frowns. "I could speak with him."

Dean laughs. "Not like that, you couldn't."

"Thanks for that image, Dean" and it's Sam's voice that echoes through the door.

"Don't want to hear, don't listen, Sammy" Dean yells back and they hear the exaggerated huff that Sammy always lets out when he's really trying not to grin and everyone knows it. Sam's footsteps retreat down the hall and Castiel turns back to Dean.

"Did you mean that about practicing?" he says and Dean's smirk tugs at his mouth. "Cas, I think we're doing a hell of a lot more than practicing now."

Castiel blinks. "You mean-you want to do this again?" he says, and he can hear the trepidation in his own voice as he waits for Dean's answer.

Dean gives his reply by pulling Castiel against his chest and crashing his mouth into his. "You get that, Cas?" he says, his voice muffled owing to the fact his lips are currently talking directly into Castiel's.

Castiel pulls back, stares at him for a second and says "Yes, I have got that, Dean."

And then he tilts his mouth back to Dean's. Castiel might be an angel but he knows enough to know that humans like to show off what they have learnt, even if a lot of it seems to be at times, improvised.

And he thinks that that might be a good thing to practice too.

---

Leave a review :) Come on, Season 10, it's practically canon already. And seriously, what is this business with Cas and Hannah? No. Just no. :)