This piece is the first fanfic I've ever submitted anywhere. (8 Though I've been writing a long time. You can find me, and it, on LiveJournal abandonedstudio. I hope you like it. 3
When Castiel came into the room, everything jolted alive. The world was shocked into life, into effervescence, into dynamically stimulating spirit. Details jumped at him; Dean noticed things that hadn't seemed to be there before. Like the dust motes, the dust motes that swirled down in the haze of the dull motel light bulb, the things that stood between him and the holy being just a few long feet away. If he just pushed them away, cut past them, he could be wrapped back in the arms of his angel- but that was difficult. Euphoria was seeping through his veins, into every cell in his body, so much so that he vainly wondered if this was real, true, if Castiel really loved him.
"Dean," came the low, gravelly, addicting voice. It was questioning, curious, vaguely worried. It was many things intertwined into one flawless creation, just like his angel. His angel. Cas stepped closer, hands extending in the direction of Dean's, grazing the human's skin. Dean twitched slightly before lacing the fingers of one of his hands with Cas's, his free hand lifting to his shoulder. His angel stepped forwards, into him, hooking his arm around Dean's neck, resting their heads side by side. When Castiel held him this close, Dean swore he could feel the parts of him that made him Heavenly. Though in the body of a human, a member of a species so unpure and unholy, the angel was still an angel, still a divine being. It was present in every cell of the vessel's body at this point, so long unused by it's original owner... a radiance of light, of hope vibrating from somewhere within. It was a small comfort to Dean, to know that know matter what in the world he had ever fought, vanquished, destroyed, torn to pieces, that there was still good.