Chapter Six: Point of No Return

A/N I know that I've been a bit teasing with the sex scenes but that is because I want as much emotion and story as I can get with my erotica. I promise everyone will be satisfied soon. As always please review! And thanks to those who already have. Also, sorry for the delay. I was having… technical difficulties for a little while but I'll be updating more frequently now. I hope. Anyway, please enjoy. ^_^

OOOOoooo

Castiel had come up with a plan. The seduction of Dean Winchester was commencing, and the angel was truly enjoying himself. He had it on good authority that his body was 'hot'. He'd been reading every romance novel the house provided, which had been a lot. He'd started wearing nothing but the bottoms when he went to bed, and they hung low on his hips. It was strange walking around the house in so little, and he'd almost stopped until he caught Dean watching him as he puttered around the house. Those deep green eyes had looked darker than usual. A sign of desire.

Cass hadn't fully stopped from trying to give the other man a balanced diet, but he'd slacked off on the veggies and the lectures that went with them. The last two nights he'd sat very close to the other man on the couch while they watched movies. So far it had been action and horror so he could snuggle with the other man when he got scared, but honestly that plan hadn't worked. Neither of them was easily scared. When Cass wasn't mostly naked, he made sure not to do up all the buttons on his shirts, leaving a V of his chest exposed.

More than once he'd seen Dean stare at where the buttons stopped. Each time he fixed something for dinner he made sure it was always sat in the kitchen where they were forced to sit close to one another. He'd timed getting out of the shower yesterday so that when Dean came up for bed, he'd see the angel in nothing but a towel, slung low on his hips. The Winchester had looked up and looked away again just as quickly. Cass had done all the chores so that Dean had his whole weekend free. Life, for the other man, had never been so simple.

The angel had even offered a massage after one particularly rough day at the office. Of course, he had been turned down, but he'd tried. The more the taller man tried to distance himself the harder the angel pushed for closeness, albeit gently. Honestly, it was more fun than the angel had imagined it would have been. He could see he was making Dean uncomfortable and he was enjoying it.

He'd stated before that humans got joy from menial tasks and it was no different when you were trying to take a partner to bed. With every bit of progress he made, he was firmer in his resolve. Even if the other person involved was making it difficult, which seemed to increase his enjoyment. It was easy to see that at every turn he was throwing the other man off, which was an impressive feet to begin with. The more unsure Dean became, the surer Castiel had become.

He'd even managed to make it so that they fell asleep together on the couch again. He'd hoped it would be enough to repeat that one moment they'd shared. But when he'd gotten up the next morning, it was to find that Dean had gotten up at some point and moved upstairs to the bedroom. The angel, however, hadn't been deterred. Instead he'd been twice as attentive. When he set the table for meals, he was sure to make it so that at some point he'd have to lean in and get into the other man's personal space. From the beginning the other man had preached personal space and the angel was starting to figure out why it made him so uncomfortable.

He'd been on the internet looking into these things as well. It had been a learning experience, figuring out what to click on and how to word his inquiries. Everything he'd read had pointed him in this direction. It was Friday night and he was making big plans. They'd been on the one date when Dean had showered him with attention. Castiel didn't want to go out this time, so he brought the date home. He'd figured out how to work the red machine that gave you movies when you gave it money. Tonight, were romances.

Lights were out in every room of the house, except the dining room. They had yet to eat in here and he wondered why he hadn't used this room before. It was a lovely room done in dark colors with a large table big enough to fit eight people. He'd gone out to get flowers and they were a beautiful center piece. He'd found candles throughout the house and there was at least a dozen in the dining room and more in the bedroom. Those weren't lit but it would be easily done. There was also music, classical, floating through the house in hidden speakers. According to everything he could find, the songs he'd chosen were considered perfect for the atmosphere he was trying to create.

He'd even researched the food, wanting to find the perfect thing to have sitting in front of Dean. With the perfect wine. Unfortunately, he hadn't been prepared for that. So, he'd gotten several the store clerk had suggested. Looking at the number of bottles he'd come home with, he wondered if the guy had just seen and easy sale. Nobody needed this much wine.

Anxious, he'd set the table a few minutes early. Instead of sitting on either end, he'd sat Dean on one end and himself on the corner, next to him. A glass of wine sat next to both plates and Castiel tapped his fingers, impatient. Wondering at the taste, Cass lifted his own glass and sipped. Surprisingly, he enjoyed the flavor, the richness of it. Before he knew it, the first glass was gone. He poured another and sipped. A glance at the clock showed Dean was ten minutes late. It wasn't totally strange, so the angel poured another glass and sipped that one too.

OOOOoooo

Dean pulled into the garage and shut off the car. Then he just sat there. He'd gone out after he got off work. He hadn't bothered to call the angel and tell him he'd be late. It was too much. The angel was too much. The dreams were happening every night, the memories and sensations from the alternate Dean were getting more intense and the angel wouldn't give him any damn space. It was like he was doing it on purpose. Every time he turned around the angel was right there. When they sat on the couch he was practically in his lap. At dinner it was like they were breathing each other's air.

He'd suddenly started walking around half naked and had stopped using every button on his shirts. Dean could swear he'd started wearing cologne, but he wasn't positive. The worst night had to have been when the angel had been fresh from the shower. Dean had been repressing his feelings for so long, he'd waited about a second after the angel left the room to ease his frustration. He'd gotten off by himself, picturing being with the angel. Guilt had been overwhelming, so he'd tried to put more space between them.

It hadn't worked.

So, he sat out in his car and took a deep breath. Maybe, if he was lucky, Castiel would be in bed and he could just go inside and do the same. Dean stepped into the kitchen and was shocked to see it was still in disarray from dinner dishes, even through the dark. A light glow was coming from the dining room and he followed it. For the first time he noticed the music in the background. He didn't recognize it, but he felt it to his soul. Dean hadn't ever been a fan of classical music, but this wasn't bad. In the other room he saw the candles, burning low. There was a huge bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table and two plates piled with food.

In front of one plate was a single glass of red wine and next to the other was an almost empty glass. Dean raised a brow at the bottles, empty, on the table. And there was Cass.

He was sitting there and turned to face him, with a stupid, sloppy smile on his adorable face. "Hello, Dean."

That deep voice, saying those words, had him suppressing a shiver. "Hey, Cass." Dean began walking towards him.

"You're late. Dinner is cold." Dean glanced at the plates and guilt punched him in the gut. It was a beautiful dinner and it was easy to see the angel had put a lot of effort into it. And he hadn't even bothered to call. He should have just come straight home after work. He shouldn't have gone to the bar. The whole time he'd been there he'd had two drinks and had been surrounded by beautiful women. He'd been bored to death and totally, shockingly, uninterested.

And here Castiel had put so much effort into tonight. Taking in his surroundings Dean frowned. Why had he put in so much effort? What was so special about tonight? It was obvious to a blind and deaf man what scene was painted before him. Except, this was Cass. Castiel didn't have it in him to try something like this. Did he?

"Uh, Cass? What's going on here?" Dean moved to crouch down next to the angel. The very drunk angel. Had he ever seen the angel drunk before? No, no he hadn't. Dean smiled at the new experience.

Castiel blinked at him. "You really don't know do you? For a human your bad at it."

"Bad at what?"

"Being human. You don't get it at all." Castiel reached over and lifted his glass before downing the last of the contents. Cass turned in the chair to where he was facing Dean full on.

"What does that mean?" Those blue eyes leaned forward so they were very close to his own. Too close. They were so intense and earnest at once. Then the angel's lips were on his. It was a brief kiss that shot electricity through his body. That voice was rough and a little slurred when he pulled back.

"I'm seducing you." Dean was so stunned he sat back on his heels. What was he supposed to say to that? What was he supposed to do with that? Castiel sighed and tried to pour another glass. The bottle gave a few measly drops and was empty. Cass closed one eye and looked down into it. "That keeps happening."

Dean found he could still laugh. If that's what you could call the guttural noise that had left his throat. "That will happen when you keep drinking." His brain was still having a hard time processing that first sentence.

Castiel laughed so hard he almost toppled from the chair. "Yeah, I guess so," he finally managed. Dean had reached up with both hands to steady the drunken angel. Then it dawned on him that if he was drunk, he couldn't be an angel. He had to shower, shave, eat and sleep. Yet Dean continued to see him as the heavenly being. Looking deep into those blue eyes he felt his body reacting as it always did. Only now the sensations were even more uncomfortable. The desire he felt for this man, this human, was at a peak he'd never known existed.

The blue-eyed man sighed. "I'm not very good at this am I? Do you feel seduced?" Those blue eyes looked at him curiously. If only Dean could tell him.

"You're drunk," was his curt reply. He moved to stand the angel up and put him to bed.

"You get drunk."

"That's different." Dean moved to Cass' side once he was on his feet and threw one of his arms across his shoulders and moved his own to hold the shorter man around the waist. They began the stumbling journey upstairs.

"It's not different." His voice had a whine in it.

Dean sighed. He didn't bother to reply as he was trying to keep them both from falling backwards down the stairs. When they reached the top, he was forced to change his hold on the smaller man to lead him down the hall better. As he switched the angel to his other side, Cass gave an almighty sneeze and almost toppled them both to the floor. That husky voice laughed in his ear as Dean placed both hands on the wall to keep them upright. His hands were splayed on either side of the shorter man's head and their bodies were pressed close, Cass' back was to the wall. Dean felt Castiel's body react to the closeness, and his own responded in kind.

Castiel must have noticed the change in him, because he was suddenly quite serious looking. Those blue eyes grew round and dark. "Damn you," the oath was soft but had heat behind it. He leaned forward and captured the mouth that had been haunting his dreams. Pleasure stormed through his system at the touch. Unable to hold the dam closed any longer, he took what he wanted. Not one fuck was given as he savaged the mouth beneath his own. His hands gripped those soft, dark locks and pulled him into him. He wasn't kind or sweet or gentle. If he was going to break the rules, then by God, he'd break them his way.

So, the hunter took what was so willingly offered. He groaned when those soft hands reached up to timidly grip his shoulders while, finally, Castiel began to kiss him back. The cavern of his mouth was every bit as sweet as the wine he'd drank, the kiss just as heady. Dean was consumed with pleasure and passion. He pulled the other man from the wall and began to head to the bedroom again. Cass, still very drunk, almost sent them to the floor again.

"Shit." Dean was out of breath and frustration seeped from him. He steadied them both again and he leaned forward so their foreheads were pressed together. It was several long moments before he lifted his head to stare into those bright blue orbs. "I'm not always an honorable man." A long-suffering sigh slipped passed his parted lips. "But in this case, I have to be. I won't take anyone when they are this far gone."

Castiel frowned at him but before he could protest Dean took him the rest of the way to the room. He wanted to curse again when he saw the effort the other man had put into his seduction. How was someone, who'd never done this before, so careful and thoughtful? Dean was humbled by the gesture. The things it did to him made him curse himself for what he thought of as his gallantry. If he hadn't been hard before, he would have been now. No one had given him this much thought and care.

So, he would return the favor. He moved them both to the side of the bed and let gravity take the smaller man, so he landed with a light bounce on the mattress. Those wonderful arms raised as if to pull the taller man down with him, but Dean caught them and pushed him back on the bed. "Not tonight, Cass." Dean had given up. For once, he gave up a fight. He'd just wait.

Cass stuck out his bottom lip in an adorable pout. Dean checked the urge to take that lip in his mouth and use his teeth…. "I'm bad at this aren't I? I can't seduce you." There was a clear note of hurt in that deep, gruff voice. Dean gripped Cass' wrist and pulled his hand to the front of his pants. He watched those blue eyes go round with shock.

"I don't always do the honorable thing," He repeated. "Tonight, I'm doing it for both of us. When I have you, you'll be sober and fully aware of everything I do to you. Not tonight." The smaller man was quiet as Dean helped him undress to his boxers before tossing the blankets over him and striding from the room. Cass was asleep before he was down the stairs. When he hit the bottom landing, he thought of the long, long night ahead of him on the couch. He went into the dining room and began to blow out what candles hadn't burned out and cleaned up the uneaten dinner.

He tossed all three bottles of wine in the trash and thought of the terrible hangover the other man would have in the morning. A smile spread across his face. Served him right, Dean thought. After all, he'd be suffering tonight, it was only fair that the man upstairs would not only experience his first hangover, but it was going to be a bitch. The thought cheered him so much that he whistled while doing the dishes.

The night was as long as he'd predicted and the ache in his pants was one he'd live with tonight. He'd come to understand that he couldn't hold back any longer. Screw the consequences, screw doing the right thing. Dean had wanted Cass from the moment he'd walked through the door in a shower of sparks. He'd been mesmerized from the beginning. He'd wanted and needed from the beginning. Now that he knew how Cass really felt, he was going do what he craved, take what he needed and the man upstairs was going to regret opening this door, he was sure of it.