The sounds of Led Zeppelin filling the Impala were nothing unusual. The car was parked off on some nameless country road, the engine cut, but the battery still running to avoid the inevitable hanging silence that would have remained otherwise.
Dean didn't think he'd be going through with this otherwise—silence left too much room for thinking, and too much room for doubts.
Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light,
To chase a feather in the wind
But between his current separation from Sam, the looming prospect of the forthcoming apocalypse, and the pressure to just accept his role as Michael's vessel, he didn't want to think about anything.
All of that was too painful.
To be honest, he never thought that there would be any force between Heaven and Hell that could distract him from all of that, but there he was, lying in the back seat of the Impala, stripped of that stupid grungy trench coat, and staring up at Dean with an imploring blue eyed gaze.
Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight,
There moves a thread that has no end.
It wasn't that this was the first time that Dean had noticed any kind of attraction to the angel—quite the contrary. It was just that between everything that they went through, from fighting angels and demons, and just the usual routine of hunting down whatever else stood in their way, it had just been so easy to ignore.
He could ignore the way Cas looked at him, ignore the way his own voice faltered when he reprimanded the angel for standing too close, ignore the way his heart raced whenever he caught a glimpse of the handprint on his shoulder…
For many hours and days that pass over soon,
The tides have caused the flames to dim.
But Sam wasn't around, and for the first time, it was just Dean and Cas. And that left plenty of time to just brood over every little mannerism of Cas's. The way he could just stare in silence for way longer than most people could do at a comfortable level, the way his head tilted just slightly, his eyes squinted and his lips just barely parted whenever he was lost…It was becoming an embarrassing habit of Dean's to make reference to pop culture icons far beyond Cas's level of understanding just to see him make that face one more time.
At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom
Is this to end, or just begin?
He was making that face right now, staring up at Dean with desperate curiosity in his eyes. Dean was pretty confident that this was the first time anybody had ever kissed the angel.
And even as Dean leaned down again to press a second kiss to Cas's chapped lips, he couldn't quite grasp that he was really doing this.
He wasn't sure what shook him more about the situation—the fact that it was Cas, who was a dude (There's no way I swing that way, he convinced himself), or the fact that he could hardly draw up another memory lost in the jumble of hurt and anger in his mind where he had kissed someone like this.
Kissing was normally just foreplay to him—just the beginning to a better goal that most of the time resulted in he and some nameless girl loosing their close. It was something quick, harsh, messy, merely serving as a bridge to another purpose.
But this…this was slow. It was deliberate. He had no intentions of taking things further with Cas. Not now, at least.
Right now, all he wanted was to keep the warm contact between their lips, and melt into Castiel's arms, forgetting about everything else.
Who really cared if the world ended? He could just stay here until it did.
Dean pulled back again, green eyes staring into blue, wishing he could read Cas's impossible expression.
"Jesus, Cas, I didn't know I was that terrible at kissing." Dean chided, trying to break the hanging awkwardness with humor, though his words lacked their usual confidence.
"I'm not sure what relevance Jesus plays in this,"
Dean had to hold back the snort of laughter that threatened to come out.
"But I...enjoy this." Cas gestured a hand at Dean in general. "I don't understand this at all. You, Dean…" He seemed to be at a loss for words.
All of my love, all of my love,
All of my love, to you.
"Angels don't feel the same rang of emotions that humans feel. We aren't supposed to be that way. But I don't know what this means, because when you—"
"Alright, alright," Dean interrupted, feeling a bit bad for cutting the other off, but he couldn't help it. "Listen, Kate, I'd love to sit and discuss all this cheesy 'you jump, I jump' crap with you, but let's save that for another date, alright?"
It wasn't that he didn't care what Cas had to say, but for the moment, he just didn't think he could handle all of that. There was just too much going on, and he just wanted to feel the other's body heat, and not have to worry about how confused they both were.
He silenced Cas with another kiss before the angel had a chance to question the reference he had just made, and began to trail his kisses down the other's jaw line.
Dean was grateful when Cas finally made some kind of movement, rather then lying motionless in the backseat.
He was cautious as he raised his hand raised up, fingertips brushing over the bare skin of Dean's arm.
Dean was a little confused at what the angel was getting at before Cas's hand slid under the sleeve of Dean's t-shirt, his palm matching up perfectly with the burn imprinted on his shoulder.
Dean couldn't help but smile.
"That means I belong to you." He said quietly, surprised by the boldness in his own voice, and how absolute his words were.
And Dean swore he very nearly crumbled at the way Cas's lips split into such a perfect, rare smile.
"We belong to each other."
"Yeah? Then I guess I'll just have to leave a few marks of my own."
Dean didn't have to see Cas's face to know what expression he was making as he responded,
"I'm an angel, Dean, any scars left on my vessel's body would—"
Dean reveled in the way Cas's words stopped so abruptly as Dean's lips had finally crawled down to the angel's neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin. He let his teeth rake over a particular spot, his lips curling into a grin against Cas's skin as he felt the other's grip on his shoulder tighten.
But Dean wasn't after sex this time. He just wanted to make sure he left a few reminders, maybe more to himself than to Cas, that this had really happened, because he knew that soon, too soon, this moment would pass, and they would be back on the road, back to the problem at hand, back to facing Michael, and Lucifer, and whatever else was out there waiting for them…
All of my love, all of my love,
All of my love to you.