A/N:: Demons Inside Me is a Destiel kind of fanfiction. This story is based in the 1800's (Victorian era) sort of like the move Raven, or Edgar Allan Poe time. (He's my inspiration). Anyways its based in that time, dark, scary, mysterious. I hope you enjoy reading this story. Please tell me what you thought when you're done reading. Please continue on.

Baltimore, Maryland 1804

Dean walked the empty street on the late, rainy night on his way home from the bar. The street lamps were glowing dim on the stone road. Dean felt a cold shiver slither up his spine, he wrapped his loose frock coat tight around his body trapping in the precious heat. His top hat held on tightly to his head, barely moving when gusts of unpleasurable winds blew past him. Dean was in a hurry to get home, because at home his lover, Castiel was waiting for him to arrive. Castiel waited on the couch in his night shirt, drinking a glass of wine just hoping that the next moment Dean would waltz through that front entrance and greet him with a kiss. Dean took large strides as he made his way through the vacant town trying not to think of horrors that could creep upon him. But it took a lot to scare Dean, he's a tough man, real strong. He took a deep breath before entering his apartment door. He became satisfied as the warmth of the fireplace kissed his cold skin. Dean turned on an oil lamp adding a bit more light because the other ones were terrible at their jobs.

"Hey Cas," He said as he was latching the door shut.

"Hey," Castiel shinned a bright smile showing how happy he was to have his love home. Dean took off his frock coat and his top hat, hanging it on the coat hanger by the front door. He walked to the sofa, sitting down next to Cas that handed him a glass of freshly poured wine.
"So how was your day?" Cas said to Dean in a low tone.

"It was pleasant, my fingers ache like always but its worth the money."
Dean worked as a gunsmith, the perfect job for his nimble fingers. A gunsmith builds and repairs any kind of firearms in need of fixing and or creating.

"How about you hun?" He patted Cas' knee, smiling showing his open ears.

"Fine, nothing exciting happened."
Dean starred off into Cas' blue eyes getting lost in the reflection of the fire that layed so perfectly upon them. Dean reached for the glass of wine that rested in Cas' weary hand, placing both drinks on the table in front of them. He brought Cas closer to himself, softly kissing his lonely lips that brought a feeling of 'welcome home' to his body. He cupped his hand at the back of Cas' neck holding him in place. Dean always worried himself when he thought about the terror of loosing Castiel. A day never did go by without him thinking about it. He would be lost and traumatized without his love by his side through the ups and downs of his lonesome life. Dean always had a monster that ate at him everyday of his life before he met Castiel. This monster ate at his stomach and reached his chest region by the end of the night drenched in alcohol. This monster was identified as emptiness. Feeling alone every single night, feeling like nobody was there for you, feeling hurt. This pain all went away when Dean first met Cas at the local bar looking cute as ever.

"Dean we shouldn't." Cas broke through.

"I don't care, I'm doing it." Dean adjusted above Cas to where he was dominant. He rubbed his cold, aching hands up and down Cas' bare back sending shivers up his nervous spine.

"Dean stop, " Cas whispered in to Dean's ear as he nipped at Cas' neck. The pleasure that Dean brought to Castiel was outrageous.

"Dean, I love you but stop." He pushed Dean off of his tense body. He pecked Cas' lips before sitting up completely, patting his knee suggesting they go to bed.
"C'mon lets get to bed."
Dean jumped off the sofa and made his way down the small, dark corridor into his bedroom. Switching on the oil lamp on the nightstand that sat next to their bed,
"Hey don't forget the oil lamps!" He called, his voice carrying down the hall making its way to Cas' ears.
"Got it!"
Dean unbuttoned his black vest along with his white Morton showing off his bare torso that left Castiel breathless as he entered the room. Dean looked at Cas smiling,
"Like what you see?" Cas nodded, letting out a silent laugh. Dean slid out of his classic canvas trousers, pushing them a side. He walked to the bed, pulling up the covers, slithering under them. Cas soon pressed his body against Dean's, setting a flame of love under their hearts.

"Dean, you do know I love you, right?" He shot Cas a weird glance of confusion.

"Of course!." He kissed the ball of Cas' nose. He wrapped his firm arms around Cas' shoulders, comforting him, warming him.

The beautiful sunrise fluttered through the window of Dean and Castiel's room. Dean batted his eyes open, looking around for Cas but not a sign of him except for his white night shirt on the floor.

"Cas?" Dean called out.

"Setting a fire, I'll come in a second." Dean rubbed the back of his neck, dragging his bare body out of the comfort of his bed. Dean walked to his drawer pulling out a pair of undergarments and sliding them upon his ass followed by a pear of classic canvas trousers.

"Cas! Have you seen one of my white Mortons?" Dean asked rummaging through the second dresser drawer.

"I got you a new one the other day." Cas walked into the room, stopping Dean in his tracks as he unfolded the white morton and tossed it to him.

"Thanks babe," He smiled.

"No problem." Cas crossed his arms behind his back waiting for Dean to notice his work. Dean rubbed his thumb over the stitches recognizing that pattern. He gasped, looking up at Cas.

"You?"
Cas nodded.
"You made this? I thought you only made dresses, but I guess not."
Now it's time to explain Cas' job as a dressmaker. It's the family business and he admired his dad and his incredible work. Cas was always told each and every dress maker has his own stitching pattern. Cas' is always in the shape of a star. Now you see a dressmaker usally only makes dresses for women but Cas' father was such a talent that he took that talent and extended it, making all kinds of clothing for male and female. He then taught Castiel how to create these clothing pieces for when he gets older and takes over the shop.

"Well its special. I know that's your favorite style so it took me a while longer but its finally finished."

"Thank you Cas."
Dean left the top button accessible, a few chest hairs popping through but barely visible.

"Oh and your vests are in the bottom drawer along with your bow ties." He nodded and left the room. Dean buttoned up his vest and looked back to the drawer ignoring his bow ties. It wasn't really the type of day for that.

Dean entered the dinning spotting Castiel eating a piece of warm, buttery bread. Dean walked tall and independently to Cas, pulling him close by the waist. Their nervous chests touched softly, sinking into each other as they settled in. Dean smiled and looked deeply into Cas' beautiful eyes that sparkled like shinning diamonds. Dean softly kissed his cheek that burnt red as he removed his lips. Cas rested his tired hand on Dean's broad shoulder that lead to the back of his neck, leading his lips closer to his own. The satisfactory of their lips touching was climaxing at every open and close of their mouths. Dean's eyes shut tightly, bringing Cas closer to his stiff body. Cas' fingers snuck their way through Dean's soft hair gripping tight then releasing. Dean let go, and they gasped for air, breathing against each other's faces.

"Why'd you stop?" Cas spoke between gasps for oxygen.
Dean didn't reply, he just looked to the ground. Dean was afraid to show the guilt that always swam under his poker face. But he never did anything wrong, so why does he feel guilt? He saw the way that Cas looked at him, his eyes so filled with love. Dean never looked at Cas like that, don't get him wrong he loves Castiel to death but he doesn't show it that often. He wants to prove he is in love but he is afraid, afraid of heartbreak, of pain and the hurt that always comes with it. You would think a guy like Dean so emotionally strong, wouldn't be scared of that stuff. But I guess with Cas its different, I guess its a sign for him, a way of saying that his love for Castiel is true, and real.

Dean waltzed into the smokey, crowded bar walking to the counter slamming his hand down to grab the bartender's attention.

"Dean! It's nice to see you again!" The bartender, Rodger greeted Dean.

"I was just here yesterday." Dean spoke sarcastically.

"Yeah but you're our regular here. Would you like the usual?" Dean nodded smiling a small smile. He scanned the area searching for someone he knew but nothing popped up.

"Dean! You're going to drink away your life!" Cas yelled in a raspy toned voice that stung Dean like a bunch bees.
"I don't care anymore!" Dean yelled back! Cas clenched his jaw in frustration
"Why? Why don't you care anymore?" Cas' voice was soft.
"Because you drive me insane."
"Fine! Go and drink yourself to death for all I care."
Dean and Cas both knew that they didn't mean any of that, that was just anger boiling to the top and spilling over. Dean walked out of the apartment, slamming the door as hard as he could knocking off a few photos.

That fight between the two of them still rung in Dean's ear making his stomach churn. It was another night where the two of them had fought, and Dean went out to the bar to drink it all away. He didn't mean any of that, what he said to Cas well that wasn't Dean, that was something else. Rodger returned with small, cylinder glass half way full of whiskey.

"Man, you look like you've seen a ghost." Roger chuckled.
Dean took a large gulp leaving barely any at the bottom.
"Bad night, that's all."

"Well, what happened?" His chubby face regained seriousness.
"Fight," Dean gulped thinking of a cover up but he didn't make on up, he just spoke the truth. "Fight that I didn't want to have." He nodded, drinking down the remains of his whiskey then sliding the glass back to Rodger for a refill.

"What's going on?"

Dean hesitated with his answer.

"We've been fighting a lot more than usual and it sickens me. I don't like having these fights with Cas, it makes me feel up to my neck in hell fire."

"Well we all hate fighting with our special lady."
Dean looked up at Rodger confused then realizing the homosexuality isn't a big thing around here.

"What?... Oh right."
Rodger placed the glass of alcohol in front of Dean. He drank beverage after beverage.

Cas was home alone, pacing back and forth drinking wine straight from the bottle. His blood boiled at every thought of Dean. God he wanted to rip his head off of his neck his with bare hands. The fights had become extremely vicious, full of venom, words that no one would say to a love! He wanted to leave but he loved Dean to much to hurt him. He wanted to hate him, he wanted to yell and scream, punch and kick. His fingers ran though his already messed up hair. Tears fell fast from his injured eyes, forming ponds of sadness onto his red cheeks.

"Why? Why does this have to happen!?" Cas cried out, letting his heart burst of anger. His knees weakened underneath him, falling to his knees.
"I'm sorry Dean!" He yelled. "I'm so sorry." Cas slowly lied onto the hardwood floor, hunkering together. He white knuckled the top of the bottle of wine. He cried on the floor. Cas was changing, he wasn't himself anymore. He was turning into a monster, forming in to something that was the complete opposite of his soul, something scary.

A/N:: I really hoped you liked it! Please tell me what you thought!