A/N: I actually really like this story. It was a little harder to find inspiration today, so forgive me if this chapter drags at all. I think Destiel is my OTP of all the OTP's. (Which I will list on my profile if you have a specific fic request.) Continuing on, this is a semi-smut chapter. I've had stories removed before because of my (AMAZING) smut writing, so I'm being cautious with this one. If you think there should be more fluff, more smut, more anyyyything, please leave a review telling me what you did o didn't like. I really appreciate it, even if they make me kinda sad if someone doesn't like something I love you guys so much, thank you for your overwhelming support on this story.

Also, side note, I have to fix a few things on The Fourth Quarter Quell, so if you're waiting for that to update, please don't wait anymore. There's a lot to do on that one, and when I update it, you will know because it will be a big-ass update.

Lots of swearing: don't say I didn't warn you.

TEE HEE ALSO TALK ABOUT DEANS PENIS. ~Bee~

Chapter Two

Dean awoke, startled into consciousness by the feeling of a body sitting close to him. Rest hadn't come easily – the feeling of holding Castiel close to him the day previous had still haunted him. He wanted that feeling back. Dean turned towards the sensation of warmth, confused. It must've been early morning, because it was still dark outside and Sam lay snoring comfortably in his bed. There wasn't anyone – or anything – in Dean's proximity. He was riddled by the uncomfortable feeling that something was watching him. He looked around the motel room, searching; still a whole lotta nothing. 'Just a dream.' Dean thought to himself. 'You want Castiel back so bad you're imagining him.' Dean rolled over, falling back into uneasy sleep, plagued by dreams of Castiel.

Sounds of Sam moving in and out of the room, and an uncomfortably tight feeling in his jeans is what he awoke to the next morning. 'Can't let Sam see this.' Dean chuckled. He shifted in bed, trying to move his erection to a less noticeable spot until he could get into the shower.

"Morning," said Sam quietly, not looking at Dean as he packed gear into two duffle bags. Dean nodded towards him in reply, standing and stretching lazily, being careful not to pull his jeans too tight over his hips. He walked quickly into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him louder than intended. 'Shit Cas, the things you do to me.' Dean thought as he looked at a very solid hard on. He wrapped his fingers around it, moaning as softly as he could. 'Fuck'. Dean turned on the shower, water pounding down, and cold as it could possibly be. He stepped in, gasping lightly.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. His gasps came in fogs, and he turned, washing his face, scrubbing his body and hair clean of whatever he'd dreamed of the night before. By the time he'd stepped out, his erection had gone to a much more manageable, slightly flaccid state. He stepped towards the toilet, leaning over the bowl to pee; Dean didn't dare touch what he knew was a very viable candidate for a tough day. Sam was sitting at his laptop, looking up lore on Purgatory. Dean ran a hand though his still damp hair, leaning against Sam's chair.

"So…" said Dean.

"So you gonna tell me why you were moaning in your sleep at four in the morning?" said Sam quietly, fingers tapping the keys lightly. "Cause… I definitely had to leave. It was starting to become disturbing."

"I… uh…" Dean stuttered, face turning red. "What does this have to do with Stopping Cas and Crowley from opening Purgatory?" Dean continued impatiently. Sam looked at Dean, incredulity in his eyes.

"Um… nothing. I can't find anything about Purgatory, at all, let alone how to stop it from opening. All it says here is that this is where, according to legend, the souls of non-human, non-angel, non-demon… basically this is where monsters go when they die. It could be filled with any number of things." Sam muttered. He scrolled down the page quietly, scanning it for information. "But it doesn't say what's in it. Or how to open it. No wonder Cas needs to know. Free souls – he could be terribly powerful. And when I say terribly, I mean terribly. All those souls, they would do truly terrible things to him. It would be like having schizophrenia with a city of voices." Sam shook his head, looking confused. "I just don't understand why Cas would want that."

Dean shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Look, you… stay here. I need to clear my head. I had a really weird fucking night." Sam nodded, still not looking at him. Dean patted Sammy's back, nodding. He walked out to the car; his heart was racing. Castiel was the person he was meant for. Had been since the start of time. Dean wasn't sure what it meant, however. Being so drawn to someone wasn't exactly his style. Lisa was the only one he ever saw himself settling down with, and he knew how that turned out. He set his head on top of the car for a moment, closing his eyes and thinking. If Castiel was really meant for him, if they were truly connected by this unbreakable bond… How would it feel when Dean died? Or, an even scarier thought, how would it feel for Dean when Castiel died? Dean thought quietly of all the Angels that pursued Castiel, who wanted him dead, gone: the Angels who wanted to rip out Castiel's grace and let him fall.

Dean shook his head, opening the door to his Impala. There was no point dwelling on a situation that could be remedied by never letting it happen. Dean drove out of the parking lot and towards the highway. There were a few people, but not many – most of them drove on the overly crowded freeways that the boys tended to try to avoid. Dean drove and drove, finding patches of beautiful scenery, thinking only of Cas. He pulled over, resting his head against the steering wheel.

"Hey, Cas?" Dean said, after a few hours. "If you're not too busy, would you mind joining me for a little while?" He waited, holding his breath, until he heard that soft flap of wings that meant Castiel was there.

"Hello, Dean." Castiel said, looking out the window. Nervously, he glanced around at the deserted highway. "Where are we?" Dean shrugged, face blank. He put the car in park, killing the engine, and turned to Castiel. Dean took in his sharp nose and rough features. He wasn't elegant by any means, but Dean was still struck by his beauty. Castiel moved towards him, pressing his forehead against Deans, eyes closed in surrender. He felt Dean's soft breath against his face, a whispering breeze he couldn't get enough of.

When they kissed, this time was different from the previous two. It was filled with energy and passion. It was as if the two previous had been practice – trial runs 0 for this one kiss. Dean stripped his coat; desperately keeping his lips glued to Castiel's, who had his hands placed delicately on either side of his face. They clutched desperately to each other, moving across the car into the wide backseat. Dean looked at Castiel, brushing hair off his forehead. They laid there, gasping for air. Castiel removed his coat, pulling his tie of and unbuttoning his shirt. Dean sat up, straddling Castiel – he was very glad his car had tinted windows – and removed his shirt. Castiel gasped at the sight of him; he reached up, trailing his fingers along the scant hair, the rippling muscles. Dean's eyes closed, feeling Castiel's fingers moving, hands clutching. He pulled Castiel's shirt off over his head, dipping down to kiss his softly toned chest.

"Cas…" whispered Dean, moving slowly up into the crook of the Angel's neck. Castiel nodded slowly and clumsily in acknowledgement. "I love you." Castiel looked at him, pushing Dean's head up to stare right in his bright green eyes. He placed on hand over dean's left shoulder, where his handprint was still burned into his flesh; the other hand wrapped itself around the back of Dean's neck. He pulled Dean towards him, kissing his forehead, his cheekbones, and nose, and lips. He pushed him up, kissing down the column of Dean's neck to his collarbones, the flat plain of his chest. He looked back up at Dean, who had been gasping softly.

"Is that okay?" asked Castiel in his innocent way. Dean clutched harder at the Angel – he took this as a signal of affirmation – and started to clumsily undo his belt, pulling on Dean's pants in desperation. Dean removed his shoes, kicking off his pants, leaning back against the window to watch Castiel remove his clothes. He felt pressure building in his cock: Watching Castiel take off the clothes he wore every day was the sexiest thing Dean had ever seen. Castiel moved forward, laying his body between Dean's legs, wrapping his long, slender fingers around Dean's erection. Dean moaned loudly, feeling passion, as he'd never felt before. Castiel worked on Dean like an expert, mouthing his neck, wrapping his lips around Dean's cock. They moved in exquisite fashion; together they were unified in unstoppable beauty.

Breathing was the only sound that filled the car; the sun was beginning to set, and Castiel had his head gently resting against Dean's chest. If he could sleep, he imagined this would be the most comfortable position to do it in. His legs were intertwined with Dean's; he wasn't sure where he began and Dean ended. They breathed together: Dean's eyes were closed, and Castiel used the opportunity to take him in – the nose that had obviously been broken so many times, his scarred brows and lower lip. But what struck Castiel about Dean was how perfectly symmetrical his face would have been without scars. His eyebrows were the same shape and length on each side, his lips had no flaws; his nose, though slightly crooked, was perfectly shaped to fit his face. His eyes were the same size and shape, and minus a scar that ran under his left eye, Dean's face was absolutely perfect. He'd never seen such a work of art before. Dean ran his fingers through Castiel's hair, humming softly.

"What is that sound you're making with your throat, Dean?" asked Castiel, closing his eyes. He felt Dean's chest rise and fall with each breath and wished desperately that he could sleep. But alas, he could not. Dean chuckled at his question, looking down at the beautiful man.

"I'm humming. It's when you close your mouth and sing without words," replied Dean, smiling.

"What is the song?" Castiel questioned, trailing his fingers across Dean's chest, causing goose bumps to rise on his pale skin.

"Um…" said Dean. He turned red, looking beyond Castiel and out the window. He knew that Castiel wouldn't know the song, or bring it up to Sam the next time the three of them were in a room together, but he was still embarrassed. Castiel looked at Dean, resting his chin upon his chest. His eyebrows raised when Dean looked down at him. "It's called… 'First Day of My Life'. It's by bright eyes." Castiel looked confused. "It's a band, Cas."

"Will you sing the song for me, with words this time?" asked Castiel, looking hopeful. Dean snorted, gazing down at him; he looked back expectantly.

"Uh, sure, Cas." Replied Dean. Cas settled his head back into the crook of Dean's chest, sighing happily, waiting for him to start singing.

"This is the first day of my life."

Dean cleared his throat nervously, blinking and watching the sun set, deep red lines pushing out over the trees.

"Swear I was born right in the doorway.

I went out in the rain

Suddenly everything changed

They're spreading

Blankets on the beach."

Castiel placed gently kisses on Dean's chest, tears falling from his eyes for no particular reason. Happiness flooded the Angel, and he laughed gently. Dean continued running his fingers through Castiel's hair, smiling at the sound of Cas' laughter.

"Yours is the first face that I saw

I think I was blind before I met you

I don't know where I am

I don't know where I've been

But I

Know where I want to go

And so I thought I'd let you know

These things take forever,

I especially am slow

But I realized that I need you

And I wondered if I could come home

Ohhh

Oh."

A/N: disclaimer, all lyrics in this story belong to the producers, writers, and members of Bright Eyes. The song First Day Of My Life is not in any way shape or form mine, nor do I take credit for the writing or distribution of the song in any way. I do not plan to make money off this story; it's characters or the song. All rights to those who deserve them. Thanks for reading guys: Don't forget to follow/favorite/review. It's very helpful. 3