A/N: Okay, so there are a few things.

1) There's a warning I need to put, because it squicks some people, but if I do, then it ruins the ending. (And no it isn't Wincest.) Please just trust me? It has to do with werewolves.

2) Isaac/Jackson was a werewolf fling. It happens, okay? Wolves are easy during the full moon. That's a thing...I just invented.

3) This is un-beta'd because...I'm lazy to look for someone.

4) The whole Sam thing, I know people are going to ask for side stories. Maybe. Well, if you want it, ask for it. If not, then good. Less work for me. xD *Also, if there are no objections, this is the end.

Chapter summary: It's all about the morning after, and all the weeks that follow. Dean gets surprised with something, Sam does, too. And, hey, Castiel isn't a virgin anymore!


In the morning, Dean ignores Sam's nagging text messages and voicemails in favour of spending more quality time with Derek. Last night had been too fast, and Dean is actually sober enough to draw it out this morning. There are things he wants to try, like searching the inside of Derek's mouth, getting a good, long taste of his cock…

Derek is a box of surprises though, and gives Dean the sexiest and most strangely intimate blowjob of his life, complete with swallowing and joint-showering.

Sam will have to wait a bit more.

XXX

On Castiel's end, he eats breakfast with Stiles – something Stiles made that's healthy and delicious. Castiel forgot to ask what it is exactly. One after the other, the pack members make their way from the tunnel where they were chained and join them in the kitchen. They walk in, following the smell of food, some of them looking like zombies searching for brains.

Scott looks like he ran from somewhere far, his skin sweaty and flushed. Jackson and Isaac look like they have hangovers, matching dark circles under their eyes. Erica is too busy stuffing her face for Castiel to get a good view of her. Boyd is reading a newspaper, waiting for his coffee to percolate before eating, completely relaxed and pleased.

Stiles chews slowly, mouth too full to talk, but hands not quite occupied enough to keep his fingers from finding Castiel's under the table.

Uncontrolled werewolves or not, Castiel is enjoying their company.

XXX

Dean is in the middle of shoving his boots back on, Derek looking through his clothes for something that isn't covered in spunk or cobwebs, when Castiel appears in front of Dean.

"I can return you to the Impala if you like."

Castiel nods at Derek politely when he turns around, but he's wearing the scowl of the century on his face.

Dean doesn't get it. Derek was just laughing a second ago. Did he…want something else from Dean? What could Derek possibly expect from a travelling hunter? They had fun; it's better to leave it at that before things get messy.

Dean tilts his head, raising a brow. "What's up with you, man?"

Derek clears his throat and tugs on a shirt. He'd hoped they could hang out again today, maybe go for a ride in Dean's car this time. "Nothing. Have a safe trip."

So, Dean leaves. And Derek pretends he isn't disappointed.

XXX

Dean drives Castiel back to the motel, neither of them sharing what they did the night before. It's pointless for Dean to discuss it when Castiel has all those powers at his disposal; can probably see all the dirty things Dean's reliving in his mind. God, Derek is an amazing lay. A great guy, too. He could even rival Dr. Sexy if Dean knew him better.

Castiel sits there quietly, unaware of Dean's pornographic slideshow, as he contemplates what Stiles had said before he left. Come visit any time, Cas. I'll miss you. Castiel doesn't intend to stay away for long. They have much to discuss and experience together.

Dean smirks, considering if he'd want to see Derek again. The answer's yes. He's decent enough that maybe even Sam would like him.

Castiel intends to return whenever he can; Dean will just have to learn how to wait his turn. Or however humans say it.

When they finally get back to the motel, Sam looks awful. He says he was texting them both all night, worrying they'd been killed, but Dean thinks up a lie to cover both his and Castiel's ass.

"Dude, we were chasing werewolves. This town is full of underage ones."

Sam looks like he's about to burst a blood vessel, have a heart attack, and suffocate Dean in a hug at the same time. So, Castiel chimes in.

"It was not difficult, Sam. Dean and I were sufficient. Do not worry."

Dean grins at Castiel, winking. Nice one, man. Castiel's lip twitches up in response.

And Sam pretends he doesn't see their profound bond on display. He's not going to be the one to say 'I told you say' when he asks where they were, and they admit to having sex with each other in a park or something.

XXX

Stiles sends Castiel text messages about how he's finally an official pack member, but that it doesn't change the way Derek treats him. He's still being slammed into walls, and chased around like cattle when Derek needs Stiles to distract the pack.

Sometimes Castiel asks questions about Stiles and his school life; if he's found a girl he'd like to be involved with perhaps. Stiles always answers with one of two things: the girl I liked is in love with Jackson, and Jackson is too busy being in love with himself to care or I really just want to be with you, Cas. More often than not, it's the second response. Castiel is glad he could have that effect on someone as intelligent and kind as Stiles.

Dean asks Castiel if he can relay messages to Derek once in a while. Never anything too serious or personal enough that Dean would be embarrassed to let the angel send it to Stiles. Dean has an image to keep up, you know. Regardless of how much he thinks about Derek when he tries to be with other people. (Try being the key word; it hasn't happened yet.)

Sam catches on, and says he'd like to meet the pack they were talking about. Dean almost passes out, and Castiel turns pasty white, but they agree. Hopefully, none of them say anything that will reveal their lies.

XXX

"So you're Sam? Dean told me about you," Derek says politely, shaking his hand.

Stiles scoffs; the gruff attitude always seems to be reserved for him. What does he do to rub Derek the wrong way, seriously? Jackson is the one who tore up the den again last week.

Sam is afraid at first; four Betas all come toward him at once. But when he sees Castiel and Stiles chatting in a corner – not paying attention, like the wolves are just regular teens without special abilities – he calms down.

Dean and Derek bump shoulders and chit-chat about nothing and everything, Derek fetching them beers, and trying his hardest not to lean closer to Dean and his succulent smell right in front of Sam. Dean wouldn't like that; Derek knows him well enough to figure that out.

There's noses sniffing, scoffing, eyes glowing gold and blue, and Sam is about to push them away and try to run outside-

"I like you, Sam," Erica announces, Boyd's arm slung around her waist. "You smell like a good guy." Boyd squeezes her in a show of claim, dragging her in close. He nods, grins, and adds, "You should hang out with us sometimes. We're not that bad when the full moon isn't around."

Jackson is sniffing behind Sam, standing on the tips of his toes, trying to scent Sam's hair and neck, and broad shoulders. He grumbles out, "You smell really good. You should join our pack. You're much better than Stilinski."

Isaac grins, circling around Sam a few times, trying not to get in Jackson's way when he reaches the back. "I agree with them. You seem like you'd fit in."

Sam clears his throat when manicured hands press on his shoulders; he bends down to let Jackson keep sniffing. "Thanks, I guess? I could do that." He shivers when Jackson's tongue darts out, licking his nape. "I wouldn't be able to visit much, though."

He feels a graze of teeth against his neck, and his knees almost give out, so he straightens back up. At a safer distance, away from the werewolf who acts more like a vampire. Jackson growls behind him, trailing his hands down Sam's back.

"You can ask the angel to bring you," Jackson suggests. Erica and Boyd smile, nodding. Isaac grins, giving Sam a knowing look.

They can smell that Sam is close to saying yes, can't they? He's always had problems with staying away from supernatural creatures. Maybe because he feels like one of them most of the time.

Nails scrape down the small of his back, and Sam swallows, glad he could keep the whimper from sneaking out. What is with this Jackson kid?

Stiles whispers something in Castiel's ear, and they both come to Sam's rescue. Stiles tugs at Jackson's arm gently; Jackson growling but obeying for no other reason than because his Alpha is nearby. Castiel stands between Sam and the other Betas, wondering where Scott is.

Scott pushes through the front door, barrelling down the stairs. "Who smells like candy apples and cinnamon?" His eyes widen when he notices the giant man standing in the middle of the pack, making Jackson's eyes flutter closed and open like he's in heat. "It's you, isn't it?" Scott nearly trips on his way to the man. He turns to Castiel and Stiles, "Is he a friend?"

Castiel nods, and Stiles says, "He's not just a friend. He's an honorary member of the pack."

Scott sniffs the air, humming. He has no objection to that. "Nice to meet you…"

"Sam," Sam says stiffly, ignoring the way Jackson's eyes trail down his body when he circles around to the front. He holds out a hand for Scott to take, but Jackson bares his fangs.

"You can't claim him, Jacks! He's not interested!"

Jackson snarls, eyes flashing clear blue. "Don't tell me what to do, Scott! I can claim who I want! I'm right below the Alpha!"

Sam looks back and forth between them, wondering if he should be worried about being claimed. Probably. Except … no one else looks worried. Dean and Derek are still joking, laughing, kind of gravitating to each other. Well, that explains a lot. Stiles whispers something in Castiel's ear again, and Sam doesn't miss the tiny kiss he gives Castiel before looking over at Sam. Busted.

"I have a say in the matter, right?" Sam cuts in, and all of the teens gape at Sam. "I'll decide if I want to be claimed or not once I know you guys better. Okay?"

Scott sputters, and Jackson beams like Sam has already accepted.

"But for now, we have to be somewhere." Sam watches Castiel frown, and looks over at Dean, who is completely oblivious. They don't want to leave yet; Sam's not going to force them. Even though they're a couple of liars, and deserve to do all the research themselves. "Well, I have to do some research. Take care, guys."

Jackson calls after Sam, "Wait, I can help. What kind of research?"

Sam gently holds Jackson back when he reaches out to touch Sam's chest. "The boring kind. Go hang out with your pack, people your own age. I'll come visit you guys before we leave tomorrow."

Jackson reaches out again, but Sam doesn't stop walking.

Angry that he's been refused, Jackson stalks off to the back room, shoving everyone aside on his way there. The Betas go out for some supper, but Jackson doesn't answer when they ask if he wants them to bring him something back. Meanwhile, Stiles and Castiel play video games, while Dean and Derek knock back a few more beers.

Dean notices after a couple of hours that Sam is gone, and curses under his breath.

"Dammit. Sorry, Derek. I need to go help Sam with the case we're working on. I'll see you around."

Derek smiles at that, allowing himself to touch Dean's arm now that Sam is gone. "It was nice seeing you again."

There's a flutter in Dean's chest - which, what the fuck? This isn't some rom-com where Dean sees stars in Derek's eyes, and feels butterflies in his stomach. There wouldn't be werewolves in rom-coms. And definitely not a hot, dominant Alpha one with lips that taste as good as they look. Why he is staring at Derek's mouth again?

Clearing his throat, Dean says, "Yeah. Same. Later." He pats Derek on the shoulder, and something shoots through him, right under his skin. Derek's brows are furrowed, so he must have felt it, too.

Why does it feel like Dean is leaving something important behind this time around?

XXX

Castiel's goodbye is brief because he intends to visit a lot more often than Dean will (and can).

Stiles is thankful for Castiel's angelic powers all over again; he gets to see Castiel before bed or early in the morning, or when he's having a shitty day. Whenever he texts 'I miss you' or 'come over', Castiel usually shows up. When he doesn't, Stiles doesn't take it personally. He's an angel, and he's friends with hunters who save people across the country. It's not a big deal. Besides, Castiel always makes it up to him one way or another.

The first time Stiles got his mouth on Castiel's cock, he blew his load within five seconds. It's funny to Stiles – a teenager with no sexual experience beyond the handjob Castiel gave him - for an Angel of the Lord, wise, beautiful and old, to have pre-mature ejaculation problems just like him. Castiel doesn't find it as amusing, though.

They'll be in the middle of playing Halo, and Castiel will make Stiles's pants and boxers disappear, and swallow his cock like it's his Call of Duty. Stiles can't last very long even if he'd like to; Castiel picks up new things like a sponge. He must have been watching porn or something lately to make up for how fast he always comes when Stiles gets his mouth on him.

The good thing about these surprise blowjobs (or handjobs) is that they're always amazing, and meaningful, because it's Castiel. The bad thing? Sometimes Scott won't stop smelling Stiles afterward, and blurts out – in front of people who aren't the pack – that Stiles had sex. His dad is starting to ask questions, getting irritated when Stiles says the person is shy.

Castiel is kind of shy, but he's also in the shape of a thirty year old guy to make matters worse. Dad won't care if there's an angel underneath that skin because all he'll see is the stubble and suit – and throw on some handcuffs.

It's just another short visit, but Castiel is at Stiles's mercy. Stiles swallows when Castiel spills down his throat again – after a minute this time; he's getting better – and Castiel pulls him up to chase the taste like they always do. It's kind of disgusting to some people, but Stiles likes Castiel enough to ignore their opinions. Also, it makes Stiles feel less like a blushing virgin. They've been having a lot of sex lately.

XXX

Everything seems to be going okay.

Sometimes Sam disappears with Castiel to visit the pack, and Derek leaves a message with them for Dean. It's nothing too serious; nothing that will make Dean feel like they're getting too close or moving too fast. It's just what it is. And what it is – is comfortable. Derek is easy to get along with – once you've dealt with someone as intense as Castiel, anyone else would be easier – and he's really human. Sometimes more than Dean is.

And he seems fine with the occasional message or phone call, or at least Dean hopes he is.

But then Dean starts feeling weird every once in a while, especially right after he's spoken to Derek on the phone. It's not a big deal or anything, it's just never happened before. Dean figures out how to fix it, at least. Usually a nice, easy drive, a shit-ton of alcohol and an inhuman amount of hamburgers cures it.

It's like Dean's having withdrawal or something, maybe male PMS.

Then, after a few weeks, Sam points out the fang marks that didn't quite go away like the others. They're just staying there, healed of course, but thick and jagged enough to worry Dean. Plus, Dean's starting to get a beer gut or something. Which – how? He doesn't binge drink or stuff his face that much more than usual, does he?

And – holy shit. Dean hopes that doesn't mean what he thinks it does.

XXX

Dean makes Castiel bring him to Derek when they have some time off. Sam follows along just to keep Jackson from threatening Stiles's life, like he did the last time Sam didn't show up.

("You told Sam something about me, didn't you? Told him I used to be a mindless Kanima, right? I will eat your liver with a side of greens, Stiles. I don't care what you have to say, make him come back. I want to see him.")

Castiel is happy to oblige, wanting to spend more time with Stiles. And he disappears as soon as he leaves Dean with Derek.

XXX

Derek is in the middle of washing rabbit blood off his hands when he hears the tell-tall flutter of wings. "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me." Dean crosses his arms, sighing.

Derek turns around, feeling the tension all around Dean. And the bit of…something else. It seems like a scent Derek should be able to recognize, but Dean's smell is still much stronger. He can't tell what it is.

"What's wrong?"

Dean pulls the collar of his shirt down, revealing the fang marks still displayed across his collarbone. They look deeper than they should be; are deeper than all the rest were, because those have faded already.

Derek just stands there, his hands dripping water on the floor. Not sure if it's worse that he did that, or if another werewolf did. He'll decide once Dean stops scowling.

"I feel really…hungry. Which is normal for me, but I also feel kind of stronger, louder, faster. And that doesn't go with aging or my lifestyle. I should know."

Derek swallows.

Dean continues, after narrowing his eyes. "I can't stop sweating when my brother puts on the heat, or when it's cold enough that he needs a freakin' scarf. And I feel nauseated almost all the time now – when I'm not busy inhaling burgers."

Derek is very quiet – which is not unusual for him, really, but still. He searches Dean for anger, but all he sees is worry, hope, the beginnings of a bond Dean isn't ready to break off yet. Dean is the last person Derek would want to drive away, and lying or denying Dean the truth will do that.

He takes a deep breath, wiping his hands on his jeans. "I think…I turned you by accident." Then he adds, hoping to make Dean feel better, "The only possible cure I've heard of is killing the Alpha – me."

Dean can't help but shout a little, but something makes him try to hold it in. He turns his back to Derek, pacing around the kitchen.

He really likes Derek, and he's a good guy. He's probably a great leader, too, since there haven't been any reports of animal attacks in the area. Dean can't kill him. There's no reason to. Even following the hunter code, Derek isn't guilty of anything that Dean could kill him for.

Derek looks afraid when Dean glances over at him; he's not sure if Dean's going to do it or not. And Jesus Christ, is Dean that scary? Do people actually think he's that bad? That's right, Derek isn't human.

At least…Being a werewolf can't be as bad as being a vampire, though, right?

"Fine. I'll deal with it." Derek visibly relaxes at Dean's response. Derek takes a step closer, eyes flashing to red when he scents the air. Then he's leaning in, brows knit. Dean sighs. "Why do I feel like that's not all of it?"

Derek touches Dean's stomach, and even through the plaid shirt, the undershirt, beautiful, enticing skin, muscles, bones and blood, he feels it. A tiny, steady heartbeat reacts to the touch of its father.

Derek's smiling like he's never dreamed he could, not since the fire. There's a baby werewolf growing inside Dean, sharing both their bloodlines. They did that – even if it was accidental.

And Dean knows that look. Has seen it everywhere, all over the country, every time people are in love or – or...

"Son of a bitch! I'm pregnant, aren't I?" Suddenly, a flash of all the whiskey and burgers he's been consuming comes to mind. God, this child is going to be ruined.

XXX

Stiles has Castiel spread out on his bed, nothing but trembling, bare skin all under Stiles's control. Castiel's eyes are closed like he's in pain, but every time Stiles finds that little button and presses against it, strokes his finger on it, Castiel spasms and his mouth falls open on a soft cry.

"How have you learned to do that?" Castiel asks, shaking when Stiles darts his tongue inside of Castiel, rolling it against the greedy muscles.

"I was opening myself up one day-" Stiles drags his fingers out, sucking on them, and pushing back in. The muscles squeeze against him, and Stiles presses the heel of his other hand against his cock. He is harder than he has the right to be; this is about Castiel.

Castiel whimpers, eyes fluttering shut, one arm hanging off the bed. His nails scrape against Stiles's carpet. "Yes?"

"And I was trying to see how far my fingers could go, how good it would feel with you inside me," Stiles murmurs. His tongue curls inside Castiel alongside his finger, stretching him just a bit wider. He breathes through his nose, teeth pressing against the rim of Castiel's entrance. Why does he smell so pure even here?

"And then?" Castiel prompts, his legs falling open wider, shaking. Castiel wants Stiles to penetrate him, but the idea of being inside of Stiles is just as appealing. His cock, lying flat against his stomach, jerks when Stiles finds his prostate and rubs against it. Castiel's grace nearly explodes out of him. "Please, Stiles. I don't think I can take much more."

"And then I found this perfect, little, spot." Stiles rubs his finger inside Castiel, carefully circling around the place that will make him spasm again. "And I knew you'd want to learn about it, too."

Stiles pushes another finger inside, scissoring them, and Castiel arches up, body struggling against the new sensation boiling under his skin, driving him mad, and Stiles pushes against Castiel's prostate over and over, tongue lapping sloppily at the pre-come sliding out of Castiel's cock –

"Son of a bitch! I'm pregnant, aren't I?"

Castiel screams, ripping through part of the sheets as Stiles's fingers drive into him, and warm lips wrap around the tip of his cock. Stiles always says how he wants to taste all of it and not waste a thing. And that thought is repeating in Castiel's head, like a sensual mantra.

There's silence for a few seconds. Castiel isn't sure if he knows how to work the muscles, joints and bones of his vessel anymore. Is this how it always is during sex? How does humanity survive it? Some of them must surely die during the act.

Stiles is laughing softly, kissing along the shaft of Castiel's cock. "Hey, Cas. Welcome back to the land of the living." He strokes Castiel's thigh, his fingers pressing in possessively. It warms something in Castiel's chest. "Do you think you can get hard again? I really want you to fuck me while we have the house to ourselves."

Castiel leans up on his elbows, drawing Stiles in for a noisy, wet kiss. Stiles tastes like he's been eating lollipops all day, or perhaps actual fruit. Ah, yes. They discussed that – the correlation between diet and the flavour of semen. Stiles is ever the considerate, young man.

"I would very much like to, but can you wait a moment? I believe I have to speak to Dean first."

Stiles shakes his head, pressing the bulge in his pants into Castiel's hip. "Don't make me wait too long or I'll start without you."

"I promise it will only be a short interruption." He rubs at the nape of Stiles's neck, tries for soothing but it seems to urge Stiles on. He ruts against Castiel, whimpering when clothes appear, and block the friction he'd found.

"I hate when you do that."

Castiel presses a kiss to Stiles's temple, and untangles their limbs. "Before I go, I have to tell you: your pack leader is going to be a father." Stiles falls out of bed.

XXX

Castiel pops back in, looking disheveled, probably from having been in the middle of something with Stiles…Dean does not want to picture that.

"Congratulations, Dean. You will make an exemplary parent." Castiel pats Dean on the back awkwardly. The jolt of something tingles along Dean's skin – just like every time Castiel has healed Dean in the past - and he disappears with a flutter of wings.

Dean sputters and swears like a sailor, threatening to kill Castiel if he ever comes back looking like he's just been sucked to within an inch of his life. And, fuck, why does Dean do this to himself? Goddamn angels and their bullshit. And now werewolves are ruining his life.

Scratch that.

He's ruining his own life!

Sam's never going to let him hear the end of this. Whatever. Hopefully that Jackson kid will become Alpha one day, and Sam will have his own were-baby, so he won't be able to say a damn thing.

Petty? Who ever said Dean wasn't petty?

XXX

Fortunately, Stiles took that time to strip out of his clothes and breathe. He doesn't want to be worrying about raising were-babies when he's finally going to lose his boy-ginity to Castiel. He keeps thinking about Castiel, and his lips, his beautiful eyes, his deep voice, and suddenly the news just slips into the background. He's so hard he can't even remember how to be his usual spastic self.

When Castiel arrives behind him, Stiles is bent over and trying to flatten out his comforter, Castiel doesn't worry about getting hard again. He already is.

"I have…returned."

Stiles startles a bit, but quickly composes himself. He falls back on his bed, legs spread in an invitation he hopes Castiel will take. "Did it go well?" He grips his cock, licking his lips when Castiel's eyes scan his body like Stiles is one of the seven world wonders.

"Yes." Castiel steps forward, his clothing disappearing one piece at a time for Stiles's viewing pleasure. He always complains that Castiel gets undressed too quickly. The last item disappears, falling in a pile across the room, and Castiel is naked.

Stiles grins at Castiel's renewed arousal bobbing between his legs. "Are you going to concentrate on me now?" He strokes his cock, putting his feet flat against the bed, everything on display for Castiel.

"I promise." Castiel makes the bed dip when his knees press on it. He trails kisses up Stiles's leg, and down his thigh, careful not to disrupt the movement of Stiles's hand on his cock. "What would you like first?"

Stiles throws his head back, moaning Castiel's name. "I can't wait. I need you inside me."

Castiel presses soft kisses to Stiles's stomach and chest, tongue dragging over his pebbled nipples. He bites down on one experimentally, and Stiles gasps, hips bucking up. That is something he can file away for later use.

Stiles's eyes are naturally dark, but they turn to ebony when Castiel's fingertips circle Stiles's entrance. "I must prepare you first, yes?"

Stiles feels his cock twitching in his grip, and he lets go, sucking on his fingers as a distraction. The image is just too much; Castiel kneeling between his legs, pushing a spit-slick finger in his ass, constantly kissing him wherever he can reach – it will be over a lot sooner than it should be if Stiles doesn't look elsewhere.

"If you release the pent-up tension, I can take my time penetrating you afterward," Castiel offers, head bobbing in Stiles's lap.

Stiles keens, thrusting his hips in harshly because he knows he can; knows Castiel likes it when he lets go of his inhibitions. He nods, ungracefully pushing his cock down Castiel's throat. And when Castiel swallows, works the muscles, squeezes around him – like Castiel's ass squeezed around his fingers – Stiles explodes in his mouth, smearing white all over his lips and tongue.

"I will find proper lubricant while you recover," Castiel says, placing a chaste kiss to the tip of Stiles's cock. He sucks the remnants of his lips. "Strawberries?"

Stiles laughs, feeling boneless, and luckier now than he has in any other point in time. He gets to have his own angel. A funny, selfless, open-minded angel with the ability to make Stiles come in his pants if he tries hard enough. What more could you possibly want?

XXX

Derek stands there uncomfortably; he jerks his hand away from Dean's stomach even though that's the last thing he wanted to do. Dean rolls his eyes at Derek's depressingly young, hopeful look, and places Derek's hand back on his stomach.

Dean is going to regret this in the near future – if not because of the werewolf thing, then because of the baby thing – but…

"Winchesters never do anything half-assed. When we jump into something, it's all the way. Guess you're stuck with me, dude."

Dean smirks at Derek's dumbstruck look, feeling warm and cozy with his…What's this supposed to be called exactly? They'd never put a label on what they had; it wasn't really something Dean thought needed a title. And baby-daddy just doesn't seem to cut it.

Derek smiles, crookedly. The way he only does for Dean. "Do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

Dean tugs Derek's wrist until they're much closer, lips barely inches apart. Derek breathes in, closing his eyes. Dean whispers in Derek's ear, "Nah, I've had enough news for one day. But, how much have you missed me?" Derek's chest rumbles in response, and Dean knows he's going to like this.

They can just be them. Label not required.

-End