A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first Destiel (and Supernatural) fic. This story is dedicated to my best friend whose birthday was last week. I hope you all like this!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. Otherwise I'D be married to Jensen or Jared or Misha and Destiel would've already been in it's third season.
Enjoy!
Because I Love You
It had been a couple months since Dean and Castiel admitted their feelings for one another and neither party could be happier. When the couple had brought their newfound relationship to light to Sam at a motel in Austin, Texas, he had taken the news better than Dean had expected. He had expected shock, disbelief, shock again, speechlessness, then a stuttered "I'm happy for you guys". What he didn't expect was for Sam to act as though he had already thought of it as a possibility, like he KNEW this was coming. Sam had explained to the two that he had noticed a change in their relationship months ago and hadn't ruled out the possibility of a romantic relationship. Their hidden affection for each other wasn't as well hidden as either had liked to believe, in Sam's opinion.
"If you thought I liked Cas, why didn't you say anything?" Dean had asked Sam later that night.
"Dude, do you know what you would have said? The womanizing, different-girl- every-night Dean would have said? Because I do."
Dean thought about this for a moment, feeling very uncomfortable. The couple hadn't exactly talked about how much Dean used to enjoy himself with the opposite sex. He didn't want Cas feeling uncomfortable or inadequate in their relationship.
He sure as hell didn't.
They deserved each other, Dean and Cas. Both had been through unimaginable trials throughout their years and had come out on top (though never feeling as if they had). This time was different however; they found each other and with that, themselves, finally loving and being loved as they should–though neither would believe so if you told them. He glanced Cas to gauge his reaction; he could see a hint of uncertain apprehension deep at the bottom of the oceans that were Castiel's eyes.
"Yeah, well, that was the old me wasn't it?" He said glancing at his boyfriend again to see the small glint of uncertainty swallowed up by a wave of relief and love. Dean leaned over to give Cas a reassuring peck on the lips.
"Yeah, I guess it was."
They were at Bobby's now, working a case a few miles south of Sioux Falls involving a few lonely housewives with an ancient spell book and little common sense. The women used it to place a "spell" on various men in their neighborhood that thy found quite handsome. Long story short, when the "spell" was cast on a man, a demon would possess him. The only reason the brothers decided to help was because they were in the vicinity. Otherwise, Bobby would have handled it solo.
"Alright you three, let's head out," Bobby called from the front hall. They had their plan all ready: confront the women during one of their meetings (Thursdays at 7 every week) then explain that what they are doing is wrong and hurting people, hopefully ending the demons' rein without any more bloodshed. Two of the six women had already been murdered at the hands of their demonic lovers.
"Hey, Bobby, why don't Dean and Cas stay here and we take care of the case? Someone needs to pull research duty," Sam said innocently. He wanted time alone with Bobby to tell him the news that Dean and Cas have now become Dean and Cas. The fact that they still had no idea how to kill Lucifer was a pretty good incentive for research as well. Bobby walked back into his living room.
"Really? You want to trust Dean and an ANGEL with research on how to kill the devil?" He asked gruffly. "Need I remind you the devil is related to a certain someone in this room?"
"Hey, just because Cas is related to this dick doesn't mean he doesn't want to see him go as much as we do." Dean defended his angel.
"I feel the need to kill Lucifer just as much as you," Cas told Bobby, "I have killed my brothers and sisters for things of lesser importance than this–I can assure you."
"Well that settles that," Sam said, "meet you in the car, Bobby!" And with that, he darted out the door.
"Alright you two, this is serious business." Bobby said sternly, focusing more on Dean than Cas. "No foolin' around or sittin' on your asses, I want quality time and effort put into this ya hear?"
"Yeah, we got it Bobby," Dean replied lazily from the couch. He was sure Bobby meant fooling around as in goofing off and not Dean's more preferred definition. After all, he has no idea of the turn in his relationship with the angel. Dean couldn't deny that quality alone time with Cas wasn't the worst thing in the world; Sam and Bobby would be at least 3 hours at minimum and Dean couldn't help but think about what kind of things he could do to Cas in those three or more hours alone.
This could be the best idea Sam's had to date.
"We will both do our best," Cas replied a bit more politely. He could feel his presence was still a bit off-putting to Bobby.
Handcuffs, Dean thought, definitely need handcuffs.
"Good," Bobby walked out the door, slamming it shut.
Cas stood staring at the door the two men exited for a moment or two before turning to Dean.
"Where do you think we should start?" Cas asked him. Not getting a reply, he asked again. Nothing.
"Dean. Dean? Dean!"
"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes glazed over with daydreams.
"I asked where you think we should start." Cas told him calmly. He really needed Dean's help with this–God's warriors aren't usually assigned research.
"I think in here's fine," he replied getting up and walking over to Cas who was standing near a bookshelf on the right wall.
"I meant which book would be most–" Cas started but was cut off by a pair of lips covering his.
"Cas," Dean said, lips still on the angel's, "we've got the whole house to ourselves and you want to do research? Clearly I haven't done my job in the bedroom properly."
"Dean, Lucifer is free and–" Lips met lips again and this time so did tongues. The fight for dominance only lasted for a moment before Cas used every ounce of willpower to pull away, breathing unevenly.
"–and that means we have to stop him as soon as possible," the angel continued, "the apocalypse is nearing closer every–"
"It's three hours, Cas. How much damage could he do?" Cas gave him a serious look.
"Much." This did not have the desired affect however. Dean was far from convinced.
"God, look at me like that again why dontcha?" Dean let out a small moan as he pulled Cas flush against him. "That's better."
Cas knew where this was going and he needed to stop it fast. Not that he didn't like it. On the contrary, Cas very much liked where this was headed; it was his favorite newly discovered past time. Sex with Dean is something he could never get used to.
But, saving the world so he and Dean could do that until the end of time was number one on his priority list.
"Cas, we almost never get alone time like this," Dean whispered as he brushed his lips up and down Cas's neck, making him shiver. "I'd be such a shame to throw it away."
Cas gasped as he felt teeth lightly sink into his collarbone, eliciting the tiniest moan from the angel.
"Please?" Dean breathed. As much as Cas wanted it and as much as he knew Dean wanted it, he still leaned back with painful effort.
"Not now Dean, we need to read." Cas said, finality laced in his voice and eyes. Dean stared at him for a minute before deciding it was useless; he wasn't getting into his angels pants right now.
"You get one hour." Dean Growled. He grabbed a book right behind Cas's left shoulder, deliberately leaning into him to remind him what he could be getting right now, strode over to the couch with the ancient tomb and began flicking through its pages. Cas had to take a moment to regain his composure then did as Dean had: grabbed a book and headed to the couch.
As the old truck rumbled its way down an endless, old dirt road, Sam contemplated a way to break the news to Bobby.
So, notice anything different about Dean? New jacket, tanner, in love with Castiel? Anything?
No that's not it.
Did you notice an absence of sexual tension in the air? Because that was Dean and Cas's fault. They're together now isn't that great?
Mmmm still not quite right...
HEY BOBBY DEAN'S FUCKING CAS!
...It'd be to the point, at least.
Lucky for Sam Bobby decided to broach the matter on his own.
"What's been going on with Dean? He alright?"
"Yeah he's fine Bobby." Sam replied, deciding that now was the tome to tell him. "More than fine actually, it's a funny story–"
"He tell the angel how he feels?"
"No, Bobby, he–wait, what?" Sam turned to Bobby in disbelief.
"Wh-what are you talking about?" He stuttered, "how did you know that Dean–with Cas–what?!"
"What, you thought you were the only one who noticed?" Bobby snorted, "Sam the only two who didn't notice were them!"
Sam let out a bark of laughter; he had to agree with Bobby on that one.
They drove for a couple miles before the older hunter broke the silence.
"So how'd it happen anyway," he asked, "the whole Dean and Cas thing?"
"It was a couple months ago and I had left the motel to get some food..."
As soon as Sam closed the door Dean rounded on Cas.
"What the hell was that Cas?"
"What was what Dean?" Cas asked innocently, tilting his head to the left.
"That–what you did back there–taking an angel blade for Sammy? It was suicide!" There was a slight madness in Dean's eyes Cas had never seen before. He felt guilty for being the one who put it there.
"I knew it was a fake, Dean, there was no real risk–"
"The hell you did Cas, the hell you did." Dean didn't believe a word; why would his angel risk his life like that; with an ending so…so definite? "I could have lost you, understand?" A slight slip up, Dean knew it, but right now he didn't care. He needed to get Cas to understand what could've happened–needed him to understand how much it would hurt him if he left permanently. "You'd be floating up in angeland right now if that had been real."
"And your brother would be dead. Is that what you want Dean? Because that's what would have happened had I not intervened." Castiel's voice was as steady as ever, unfazed by Dean's crescendoing.
"Gone Cas, you would've been gone, forever, got it?" He faltered and his voice cracked. "Do you have any idea what that would have done to me–us?"
"Well it didn't," Cas's voice was flat, "and honestly, I think a thank you is in order."
"A thank you?!" Dean's voice returned to its previous volume. "For what?!"
"For, as you put it, 'taking an angel blade for Sam.'" He replied. He really didn't understand where all this hostility was coming from; he willingly put himself in harm's way to save Sam. The blade–angel or not–would have killed Sam anyway. Dean would have blamed himself and added another weight to his already strained, troubled shoulders. Cas couldn't have that. Besides, better him than Sam. Sam makes Dean happy; happier than Cas ever could, anyway.
"Why would I want to thank you for almost getting yourself killed?" He threw his hands up, "what kind of psycho thanks someone for something like that?"
"One who knows it was the right thing to do." Cas explained calmly, "I've seen what happens when you lose people close to you, Dean, and it isn't good."
"What, so–so you don't think I'd be a little upset if I lost YOU?" Dean was dumbfounded to think that Cas thought he held him with such little regard. He had no idea how far from the truth he was.
"You'd get over it Dean. You and Sam would move on."
"Move on" Dean mumbled and glanced to the ceiling, "people don't move on from people they love Cas, they just don't." Cas looked away.
"You don't need me Dean, you need Sam," choosing to ignore Dean's choice in words. He didn't mean it like that; Cas dare not believe it.
"Bullshit, Cas, bullSHIT!" Dean screamed and grabbed the angel by the lapels, face mere inches from the angel's own.
"I NEED you Cas. I need you more than you could ever imagine." The intensity in his voice stirred something in Cas and he couldn't stop himself.
"Because you love me."
Deans eyes widened, his breath still ragged from the emotions raging inside him. This was it; the moment he needed to tell Cas what he felt for him. He had to seize it before it slipped away.
"Because I love you." His eyes bore into the man's in front of him. He has to find a reaction to his confession in those deep blue orbs. He has to know if his feelings are returned or rejected.
A heartbeat, maybe two and Dean loses hope. He releases his angel from his grasp.
"Dean..." Cas breathes, daring to believe, daring to tell Dean the truth.
"Just...don't do anything like that again, ok?" Dean sounds more defeated than Cas has ever heard and it breaks his heart.
"Ok?" Dean asks again "Cas?" He looks up and sees the angel staring at him. "Cas, did you hear what I said?"
"I heard everything that you said, Dean." Cas had heard every word and every prayer.
"And?" He demanded
"And I love you too."
Dean froze.
I love you too.
He couldn't believe it.
"Wh-what?"
"I love you too, Dean." Cas stood in his dirty trench coat waiting for the man he loved to do something anything other than just standing there staring.
"Dean?"
His name from the angels lips awakened something in him and before either of them could understand what was happening, Dean strode over to Cas, grabbed his hips and pulled him into a searing kiss. After a moment Dean pulled back and rested his forehead on Cas's, both breathing heavily.
"Did you mean it?" Dean asked between his ragged breathes, "do you love me?"
Cas opened his ocean eyes to look into Dean's emeralds.
"I do."
He didn't need any more motivation; Dean leaned in again but this time savored the kiss, as though this thing–him and Cas–would somehow be his saving grace. That didn't last long, however, when Cas bites Deans lower lip and elicits a low growl.
"So that's how you wanna play it?" And faster than Cas thought possible for a human, Dean had him pinned down to the bed, trench coat and suit jacket off, hands working quickly to rid the angel of his tie and shirt.
"Too much clothing," Cas murmurs and pulls Dean's shirt over his head running his hands down his chest as the offending fabric hits the floor. Dean gives Cas one more peck on the lips before moving onto his neck, slowly making his way down his chest.
That's how Sam found them when he returned to the room that night bearing what would have been dinner if it had not ended up on the floor in Sam's surprise.
"What the hell?!" He bellowed and both men jumped at the sound.
"H-hey Sam what're you doing back so soon?" Dean said, red creeping up his face.
"I-I...what?!"
"I know this may come as a shock to you–" Cas started to explain as he sat up.
"You think?!"
"-but you brother and I have come to terms with the feels we have been harboring for each other." Cas had found his discarded shirt and was currently working on buttoning it.
Sam stared at Cas before turning his gaze to his brother.
"Is this true? You and Cas?"
"Yeah Sammy, it's true." Dean confirmed, "I'm sorry you had to find out like this."
"No, no, it's fine, I just...do you two need a minute?"
"Yes."
" No."
"Dean." Cas gave a stern look in his direction.
"Because I can totally..." Sam pointed behind him with his thumb.
"No, Sam," Cas insisted, "stay...please."
So he did. Once Sam was over the initial shock, he was surprisingly comfortable with his brother's new relationship. Most people would feel odd or out of place. Maybe it was because he knew Cas so well or because deep down, he knew this was coming. But it didn't matter, Dean was happier than he had been since...well ever.
After making another dinner run and cleaning up the first, the trio spent the rest of the evening together talking and laughing as they normally would have. When Sam decided to turn in for the night, Dean did as well. The only difference was Dean didn't go to bed alone. After a brief discussion, Cas decided to spend the night. And that's how Dean Winchester, hunter extraordinaire, ended up in bed with his arms around the waist of Castiel the angel.
"...and they've been together ever since." Sam paused and looked over at Bobby, waiting for his reaction.
"You really walked in on Dean and Cas?" Sam laughed as they pulled up to a cute yellow colonial. Time to do their job.
This could possibly be one of the worst hours of Dean's life. His gorgeous angel was sitting not a foot from him, absorbed in some Latin written nonsense, and he wasn't allowed to lay a finger on him until the hour was up. Every time he tried to throw an arm around Cas's shoulder or put a hand on his thigh all he got in return was a stern "Dean" without so much as a glance in his direction. Dean Winchester did not take to being ignored well. Especially someone he was aching to make scream and twitch under him. He had been doing well most of the hour, but the last fifteen minutes were pure torture. He'd know; he had been trapped in hell for years. That is, until the angel sitting next to him pulled him out and left his mark. He thought about his scar and shuddered, recalling the way it felt when Cas would touch it at just the right time and push Dean over the edge.
Ten minutes.
He'd had sex a lot in his life, but with Cas it was better. It had meaning. They would make each other writhe and moan in ecstasy, then both collapse exhausted back onto the bed and fall asleep in each other's arms.
Seven minutes.
It was great, the sex, it really was. But that wasn't what Dean loved most. What Dean loved most was waking up in his lover's arms and realizing he was still there; he had stayed and he still loved him. Waking up every morning to someone like Castiel was something Dean firmly believed everyone needed–and he didn't deserve. What's the point in waking up to an empty bed and an even emptier heart? As long as he and Castiel could wake up in bed together and exchange good mornings, Dean would be happy. The world could go to Hell for all he cared; as long as he had Cas to wake up to, all was right in his world.
Zero.
Exactly one hour since he had been denied what he wanted; now it was time to collect.
Dean grabbed the large book from his angels grasp and straddled him.
"Your hour is up, Castiel," Dean stated then attacked Cas's lips.
Dean planned to devour every inch of Cas's skin; being denied it for so long could do significant damage to his memory. Better safe than sorry.
"So you understand that this is killing people? That you're really just communicating with demons?" Sam asked the group of women. He had just gone through the usual "who are you?" and "what are you talking about?"
"Yes," Melinda Ackerly (the home owner and ring leader) replied shakily, "yes we'll stop." The other women nodded their heads in agreement.
"Well I think we got this case all settled," Bobby announced, "we'll just be going now, ladies," both hunters had turned for the door when they heard something that meant their job wasn't over yet.
"Not so fast, Singer, Winchester." Amelia Benninghouse hissed. She stood at 5' 4" and wore a light green cardigan; nothing to suggest she was anything other than a lovely neighbor. The black eyes on the other hand, did.
"Balls!" Bobby muttered, and turned back to face the demon with Sam.
"You know these two, Amelia?" asked Marisa
"Oh sure," she replied coolly, "everyone knows about the Winchesters. Where's big brother, Sammy? Is he back where he belongs?"
Sam took a swipe at Amelia with the knife.
"Now, now, Sammy, play nice," she teased.
"You're killing innocent people," Bobby tried to steer the topic off of Dean.
"Innocent," Amelia scoffed, "no one's ever innocent. Except for me of course, just having a little fun is all."
"So you'd consider yourself innocent?" Sam asked.
"Of course silly!" She giggled.
"Well my idea of fun is killing innocent demons," Sam raised the knife and Amelia's expression sobered.
"I see," she said and sighed, "I wish we could've just skipped this; I'd hate to ruin that cute face of yours, Sam."
Sam lunged and missed. "Go!" he yelled at the women while blocking a punch. They didn't need telling twice and scrambled out the nearest door. "Bobby, now!" The senior hunter started chanting in Latin and Amelia looked up.
This gave Sam the distraction he needed to drive the knife into the demon's chest.
"Damn witchcraft," Bobby cursed and he looked at the lifeless body "nothin' good ever comes from it."
"No kidding," agreed Sam as he pulled the blade out of the woman's sternum and pocketed it, "let's get out of here."
"D-dean," Castiel moaned and arched his back. It was one of the most sensitive parts on his body: the two light scars between the shoulder blades; the place where his wings met his vessel.
"You like that?" Dean muttered into Cas's back as he continued to bite and scrape, "I know you do."
"Oh Dean," Cas moaned louder.
"Come on, I wanna see 'em," Dean pleaded and Cas could feel Dean's hot breath on his neck, "let me see them." Wings, Dean wanted to see his wings.
You could call it a newly developed fetish.
"Let go, Cas, let go."
Slowly but surely, Castiel's dark wings shimmered into existence, tucked neatly behind the angel's back.
There they are, Dean thought. Fuck, they're gorgeous.
He buried his head between them feeling their softness and power and beauty. He ran his fingers through the feathers on each wing, watching as goosebumps erupted all over Cas's body. He nipped at where skin met wing and Cas screamed in pleasure, wings violently expanding out three feet.
Wow, that's the fastest they've ever done that. Dean thought. Only five feet to go. Dean didn't have to wait long for the last five feet. Within minutes Dean heard a gasp and the quiet whoosh of wings that accompanied Cas's climax.
They flutter slowly as the angel lay exhausted on the bed facing his lover.
"Mmm," he hums, stroking Dean's back with the tip of his wing, "better than research."
"Damn right," Dean mutters as he stares into the abyss contained in Castiel's eyes. They have a few minutes of comfortable silence before Cas asks,
"Are Sam and Bobby due back soon?"
Dean looks over his shoulder at the alarm clock. It read 2:47.
"Not for another hour at least," he told him, "why?"
"I'd like to do that again," Cas admits, a slight blush creeping up his face.
"Oh really," Dean smirks, "any requests this time around?"
"I–I don't know…" the angel's blush darkens. Dean finds it endearing.
"First, let me ask you a question,"
"Ok," Cas replies, willing to tell him almost anything to feel that again. Dean smiled mischievously.
"Ready for the handcuffs?"
"Dean! Cas! We're back!" Sam called from the hall as he and Bobby hung up their jackets, "The demon's gone and the women aren't going to be doing witchcraft any time soon.
No answer.
"Dean?"
That's when they heard Sam's call echoed back in the form of a moan.
"Oh." The two rounded the corner into the living room to find Cas handcuffed to the coffee table's leg in nothing but his boxers. Not that Dean's hand had any intention of letting them stay. At least until he heard Bobby cry, "Not in my living room you idjit!"
Dean spun around to find both men looking visibly distraught by the scene before them.
"Oh, hey guys," Dean looked anywhere but at them, "thought you weren't gonna be back for another hour at least."
"Case was easier to clean up than we thought," Sam said, keeping his eye firmly glued to the floor.
"Good, good," Dean said, "could you two, ah, give us a minute?"
"The only reason we'd give you a minute is to put your clothes back on!" Bobby cried.
"Uh, yeah, yeah no problem," Dean agreed, still somewhat surprised the two hunters had gotten back so early, "let me just–"
"Woah!" Sam yelped and covered his eyes from the sight of his friend handcuffed almost naked to a leg of the coffee table. He didn't uncover them until he heard the satisfying click of the lock and the sound of a trench coat sliding back onto shoulders. Bobby had mysteriously vanished.
"Why aren't you in the bedroom?" Sam demanded furiously.
"Um, change of scenery," replied Dean
"Ugh."
"So, uh, how'd the hunt go?" Dean asked trying to move on from the embarrassment.
"Well enough," Sam answered, "how'd the, uh, research go?"
"Not very well," Cas said, "Dean proved to be a distraction." Dean grinned, glad his attention was well received.
"Did you happen to get any research done or did you two just start going at it as soon as the door closed?"
"I was allowed one hour of research before I engaged in more primal activities." Cas informed him. Sam pulled a face.
"Thanks, Cas." Just then, Bobby walked back into the room holding two bottles of whiskey.
"I needed a drink," he told them before he took a swig of his generously filled glass.
"Couldn't agree more," Sam said as he grabbed a clean glass and poured himself a drink.
"Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad, was it?" Dean asked jokingly.
"Dean, I just walked in on you in your boxers making out with another guy in his boxers who was handcuffed to a coffee table," Sam said, "It was bad."
"I think we can all agree not to leave these two alone and to never, ever speak of this again," Bobby pour himself another drink.
Cas whispered something into Dean's ear.
"Well if you don't have anything to tell us about the hunt, me and Cas are just gonna go upstairs…" Dean grabbed the angel's hand and started leading him to the stairs. As they climbed, Sam heard Cas mumble to Dean,
"I think I should handcuff you next time, Dean," and Dean chuckled, replying,
"I'm not through with you yet, Cas, but I think we can come to an arrangement."
At that moment, Sam decided staying in separate motels was the new rule.
"Remember your wingspan this time Cas!" shouted Sam; he never forgot the time he had to pay for a broken lamp and alarm clock in Nebraska.
"If I hear a peep out of either of you two you'll be sleepin' in the junk cars outside!" Bobby called up the stairs.
Dean just laughed as he pulled his angel into the spare bedroom.
A/N: Alright how was it? Drop me a review please, I love feedback! It was my first time ever writing anything remotely sexy so I just hope it flowed if nothing else. I also made up the 'Cas's wings are eight feet' thing obviously. Hope that wasn't too ridiculous. Thanks for reading! : )