Castiel would never know what possessed him to kiss Dean Winchester; all he knew was that it would either the best thing he ever did or the worst. Perhaps it was because for the first time, he could truly feel, all the way down to his bones, how badly Dean had wanted him to.
They had flirted with the notion before; they had toyed with it, teased the idea, more than once. Dean would look into his eyes, and his gaze would flash to Cas's lips and he could feel the thought cross the human's mind. Always, always, followed by the immediate deflection. As soon as he felt Dean's desire he felt it shut down, snuffed beneath the heel of John Winchester's ghost.
Dean seemed to have the ability to see right down into Castiel's soul; though the angel didn't technically have one. Cas would look at him, he would feel the flash of desire run through the hunter, would feel him consider it, and then the wall. Always, always, the wall went back up.
When Dean froze the moment their lips met, Cas worried that it would be the last time he ever saw the hunter. His stomach jumped up into his throat, his lips pressing nervously against his loves, as he waited for the wall... and then suddenly he felt it happen; he felt Dean melt. Outwardly, Dean's response to Castiel's touch had been shy, controlled... like he knew what he was doing. Inwardly, Castiel felt wave after wave of emotion flow through his hunter. Fear, insecurity, doubt, love, lust, passion, everything all at once and then the crash of overwhelming electric desire. He swelled and shrank with his love, his heart filled with the same insecure desperation as Dean's; the same need to have his love reciprocated, the same trembling fear of rejection clouding his mind.
It happened all at once, one moment, he was towered above Dean, his hands gripping into the front of his favorite green jacket. His lips moved across the hunters with slow practiced motions, and then he was on his back, his trench coat ripped open, buttons flying off of the white shirt he always wore.
Dean's lips went from soft, gentle, and inquisitive to demanding and persistent as he devoured the angel's mouth with his own. Castiel knew, in that moment, that whatever the decision he had made was, it was not a mistake.
His skin felt hot and sticky, though he knew he couldn't sweat, that didn't mean he still didn't radiate heat when his pulse quickened. He could feel Dean's pulse along his own, could practically hear his heartbeat as practiced fingers traced their way over Castiel's chest. He didn't have to be experienced to recognize that Dean was, and a whole new kind of nervousness welled up inside Castiel; what if he wasn't... good?
For one horrifying moment, Cas suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. As if Dean sensed his uneasiness, he pulled back, stripping his shirt off over his head. He caught Cas's worried gaze with his own, and leaned down, capturing the angel's earlobe with his teeth and nibbling gently. "Don't forget, this is kinda my first time too." Dean whispered into his ear, sending another delectable chill up Castiel's spine. His nervousness waned, his hands coming up to fist in the hunters hair while Dean pressed kisses down his neck to his bare chest.
Castiel couldn't help but compare this with his one and only other sexual experience. In the centuries he had existed, he had never really thought much about sex. He knew that humans would pay for it, lie for it, sometimes even kill for it, and being with April was more about satisfying his curiosity. He didn't think that she had truly satisfied his need to understand 'why' humans were so obsessed with the act with their encounter, though it had been satisfying enough.
After fifteen minutes of Dean's lips and hands and tongue on his body, Castiel was beginning to understand better.
It wasn't sex that drove people to murder, it wasn't the act of mashing bodies together, it was this. This desperate, gasping passion that threatened to burn Castiel to the ground. It was tingling skin and hesitant touches, gripping fingers and nails biting into flesh. It was teeth and tongues and sweet panting breaths. He felt Dean's hands at his belt and he groaned, his eyes rolling back into his head as the stiff fabric was moved over his thighs and calves, his shoes removed, all tossed to a pile on the floor. He shrugged out of his jacket ripping his shirt from his shoulders and dropping it into their clothing puddle on the floor.
Suddenly very naked in front of his hunter, he felt nervousness bubble inside him again. In his time in this vessel he had come to know it as his flesh, his body; though technically he had shared it one point. It had been many years that this flesh belonged to him, and he wanted it to please Dean... he wanted to please Dean.
Dean's eyes widened as Castiel's hardness burst forth from his boxers, long and thick and hard as a rock. His hands shook as he nervously took Castiel in his hands, stroking him up and down experimentally. Castiel groaned and closed his eyes, his body responding before his mind could process what was happening. Dean had been on the receiving end of this enough times to know what to do, though putting it into practice was an entirely different thing. He bent down, trailing his tongue up the underside of Castiel's cock empirically, watching as the angel shuddered deliciously at his touch.
Any and all nervousness Cas was feeling disappeared the moment the hunter's hands were on him, stilling all thought and reason within him. All he could think, feel and breathe was Dean, every inch of him inflamed and consumed by Dean's roaming hands and wandering tongue.
