Through Heaven's Eyes
Summary: Sometimes everything you want to see, you see with your eyes closed. Dean/Castiel. Maybe slightly OOC.
-x-
Days, weeks, months passed and there was not a moment that Dean Winchester didn't think about the angel in the trenchcoat who yanked his ass from the pit, who saved his life. If it weren't for said angel, Dean would've still been doing his stint in Hell, with the hourly 'torture or be tortured' hanging over his head. Dean was so thankful to the angel but the pain in his chest from never speaking those words to him made him miserable. Castiel did everything for them and all they had ever done was yell at him, say horrible things to him, make him feel like an ant amongst giants. Floods of images of Castiel filled his mind day after day, reminding him of how much of a dick he had been. He wanted to do anything to make it up to him.
He moved his head a little, his eyes coming to rest on the trenchcoat that was hanging over the chair. The trenchcoat they had salvaged from the reservoir when the Leviathan things had taken possession of Castiel's host body. Dean had a surge of emotion pass through his veins when he saw the angel disappear beneath the water's surface, realising that his feelings for him were more than purely platonic. He sighed deeply, not noticing Sam's eyes rest on him from the corner of the room where he was working on his laptop. The younger Winchester closed his laptop and stood, moving into Dean's line of vision.
"Dean?" The elder Winchester didn't answer him. He knew he was acting like some chick who had been dumped at the prom, but Sam had no idea how much he missed Castiel. "Dean, please talk to me."
"What do you want me to say? I'm too busy crumbling from the inside at the moment," he said, turning his head away from Sam and burying it in the pillow. Sam ran a hand through his hair.
"Listen, I know you and Cas ..."
"You know nothing!" Dean suddenly snapped, almost jumping from the bed. "I'm not in the mood to be interrogated about my feelings. Please go away. Do something useful that doesn't involve hanging over me, asking dumb questions." He knew how horrid he was being, how much of a dick he sounded, but he couldn't deal with it, not right now.
"I'll just go to the library then, leave you to drown in your sorrows then," Sam said, snatching his jacket from his bed and grabbing the keys to the Impala before leaving the motel room with a loud slam of the door. Dean sighed once more, covering his face with his hands and screaming into them loudly, before falling backwards onto the bed, a lone tear dripping down his cheek. He stared up at the ceiling, gazing into the nothingness above him. He removed his shirt quickly, looking down at the burn on his shoulder that was Castiel's handprint. His hand rested gently on it, his thumb brushing the raised flesh. If only the angel could feel him touching it.
If only.
Dean closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he settled back into the pillow, blocking out the dim lights of the motel room. He suddenly felt more relaxed than he had in a long time. He wasn't sure how long he stayed like that; seconds, minutes, hours; he didn't know. Suddenly, the softness of familiar lips pressed against his own, startling him, making him pull away and open his eyes. Those magnificent familiar blue eyes made all breath leave his body in an instant and the biggest smile adorn his features.
"Cas?" He was met by a smile that mirrored his own.
"Hello, Dean ..." the angel said, leaning over his figure on the bed, like Dean was Sleeping Beauty and Castiel was the prince who had just woken him with a kiss. Dean lay where he was but lifted a hand, placing it over where Castiel's heart would be. Just the realization that his hand had met solid flesh made him breathe a sigh of relief.
"Am I dreaming?" Dean whispered. Castiel climbed onto the bed, moving over the hunter's body so he was straddling him, placing his hands on his chest.
"Possibly. I depends how you see me," Castiel said, voice as gruff as ever.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked. Castiel placed one hand over the handprint scar on Dean's shoulder, Dean sucking in a breath through his teeth at the contact. "Are you real?"
"In here I am ..." Castiel said, tapping Dean's forehead gently. "Now shut up and let me kiss you." Castiel's mouth met Dean's, nipping gently at his bottom lip before opening his mouth against the hunter's. Dean brought his hands up to cradle the angel's face gently; kissing him like would be no tomorrow. He felt another tear slide down his cheek.
"Cas ..." he sighed gently into the angel's mouth. His hands moved to the trenchcoat the angel wore, moving to gently push it off his shoulders. They both undressed in silence, apart from the wet noises from their kissing. Their hands moved on each other's bodies, unable to get enough of each other's skin. Dean wrapped his arm around Castiel's shoulders before rolling them over, so Castiel was underneath him. Dean pulled away from Castiel, looking down at the breathless angel, leaf green eyes meeting sky blue ones.
"It's so good to see you," Dean whispered. God, here was the chick flick moment coming. "I've missed you."
"I miss you every day, Dean Winchester," Castiel replied and he leaned up to catch the hunter's lips once more. Dean positioned himself and, suddenly, he and Castiel were one. Seeing the angel beg for more made Dean smile again, watching as Castiel seemed to unravel into a writhing mess beneath him. Their breath mingled as they moved together on the bed. Castiel's fingers left bruises on Dean's shoulders as the sensations heightened. Dean buried his face into Castiel's neck, feeling their sweat slicked bodies move together. Only their uneven breathing could be heard in the room, nothing more. Dean could feel the build up before the inevitable, his body shuddering and shaking as he came to the end, Castiel following him seconds later. The hunter laid his head down on Castiel's shoulder, one hand running over the angel's forehead, pushing his hair back from his face. Castiel turned to face him, their noses touching gently.
"I love you ..." the angel whispered. "Remember that. Don't think that I won't come back. I'll try. Those Leviathan's think they've bested me. They haven't, I promise." Dean smiled and leaned in to quickly kiss the angel's lips.
"I love you too ... I always have."
Castiel leaned in kiss his forehead, Dean closing his eyes at the softness of his lips. Opening them again, Castiel was gone and Sam was sitting at the table in the corner once more. Dean sat up slowly, realising it had all been a dream. But he couldn't help the smile on his face.
"You seem to have cheered up," Sam said, still sounding pissed.
"Listen, Sam. I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said," he said, getting up out of bed. Sam sighed.
"Already forgotten Dean," he said. Dean nodded and began to move to the bathroom. "Woah, dude, what happened to your shoulder?" Dean frowned and moved to the nearest mirror, turning his back to have a look. There were five bruises, the shape of fingerprints, with a little blood around them, making Dean grin before turning to Sam.
"Nothing," he said gently. "Nothing at all."
Haven't written a Dean/Cas in a while. Hope you guys like it. :) x