It had been a long day.
Castiel slowly helped Dean out of his old leather jacket.
Dean had been badly beaten up on their last hunt and was covered in dark purple bruises. The angel gasped at the amount of ugly wounds surrounding dean's arms and and shoulders. It was as if Jackson Pollock had a field day with dark hues. The bruises reached his jawline leaving no skin untouched. Castiel absent mindedly brushed his fingers along one of the bigger bruises closer to his chest making a circular rhythm with his forefinger.
"Castiel!" said Dean roughly letting out a high gasp. Castiel immediately stopped, obviously embarrassed at touching him. And feeling even worse for hurting him. He should know better. He is an angel after all.
"I'm sorry" he whispered, staring hard at the bland motel wall. He couldn't understand why he was acting like this, why he felt like this.
He knew Dean didn't feel the same. He couldn't. There was too much wrong and bad luck in this world for anything good to happen to him. Especially being with the Winchesters.
"No" Dean responded, "don't be". They both stood silently in front of each other. Castiel turned to look at Dean's deep green eyes and his tanned face splashed with thousands of freckles. He was beautiful he thought. Beautiful for a human.
Dean looked down into his dried blood covered hands and whispered fast "Can you help me take my shirt off, I think it will hurt too much if I do it on my own". Castiel, not trying to look eager, slowly pealed dean's shirt off his body.
"Oh, Dean" Castiel gasped at the sight of the mass of horrid bruises covering Dean's body.
Castiel was more careful this time, and placed his hand over Dean's heart where a massive bruise had been planted. Dean didn't reject him, or tell him no. If anything he leaned into his warm touch.
Castiel pressed his hand a tighter to Dean's chest and closed his eyes to concentrate. All of a sudden, Castiel's hand glowed with a warm yellow light eliminating Dean's chest. This light spread all throughout Dean's body slowly crawling to every bruise and scratch. To Dean's amazement the light faded away back into Castiel's hand, leaving Dean without a single bruise.
"Cas," Dean spoke, "you shouldn't have done that, I don't want you to waste that angel mojo" Dean laughed softly to himself at his own joke. Though Castiel didn't really understand, he smiled to the sound of Dean's laugh which he believed was the sweetest sound in the world.
Then after the laughing, came silence. A good silence. They were only inches from each other with Castiel's hand still resting on Dean's chest. Castiel felt the warmth of Dean's breath just inches from his lips.
Without a warning, Dean Leaned to reach Castiel's lips giving him them the soft warm touch of his own. Castiel doesn't question this. He has been waiting for this along time. Too long. To find someone who really cared.
Castiel's hands were both on dean's body now and were wrapped around his smooth back. Castiel kissed him back harder, unfamiliar with the gesture, but loving every minute of it.
Dean tugged at Castiel's trench coat pulling him tightly against his body. He reached one of his arms into his coat and the other one to grip his short black hair. Slowly, Dean touched his tongue to Castiel's showing him the movement and the rhythm. Both of their bodies reeked with desire.
Castiel couldn't believe what was happening. If Angel's could have dreams, it would be coming true.
Both Dean and Castiel become more forceful in their touch exploring each and every crevice of each other's bodies. They pull each other onto the bed. Dean pressed his body against Cas, and laughed softly as he kissed his collar bone.
They wanted each other, no, they needed each other. There is no where in the world they would rather be.
Dean fumbled to unzip Castiel's pants…