Hello sweeties! Thank you all for your lovely reviews on the last chapter x3 I have this weird dogma, to have at least 6 chapters stashed in order to continue updating regularly... currently I'm at the end of chapter 17, but, oh well... the third update this week! I am so excited to read your thoughts on this... the rating... goes... up x3 Alas! This chapter is not beta-read as well, but I proofread it sternly!

Chapter 10

It was half past nine on this Saturday evening, and Dean thought he would have to die of boredom after all. He lay in bed and waited for Castiel's appearance; he tried to read a book but he couldn't exactly concentrate on the lengthy sentences in front of his eyes. Too often his eyes fled to the clock on the nightstand – he wondered if Castiel would show up at all. He had said he would come around in the evening, but they hadn't arranged a specific time. The whole day through Dean had felt fidgety, he couldn't stop thinking about Castiel only in bathing trunks. An impenetrable cloud of infatuation and anxiety dwelled in his stomach, as heavy as a rock. His heart hammered constantly in his chest, all excited and nervous at the same time. It reminded him of the feeling he had had when he was about to have his first time with a girl many, many years ago. The fear to mess it up, to be rejected, or to misinterpret the other's behaviour... It was simply unnerving. He wanted Castiel to like him, he wanted him to hunger for him in the same frantic manner.

What was the point of all those tiny caresses, the way Castiel had ardently hugged him, how their fingers found together time and again? What was the point of all those intimate looks, those private conversations, reciting poetry and behaving absolutely sappy in his company? It had to mean they shared something precious, it had to lead to something somehow. At least Dean hoped that, despite all doubts, despite every practical reason.

He was startled out of his thoughts when Castiel finally knocked on his opened door, a mellow smile gracing his rosy, plump lips. He was fully dressed, and the reddened cheeks and his ruffled hair showed Dean he had just returned to the rehab-center from a chilly spring night. Dean's bad mood instantly vanished and he returned the smile affectionately. Castiel walked inside and sat down beside Dean. He eyed the new, metallic bandage sceptically, his fingers traced the rods carefully. Dean observed his calm features, his heart thudded slowly now and his breathing had become erratic – Castiel's sudden nearness, his beguiling scent, the tiny smile lingering on his voluptuous mouth... It was all Dean had wished for within the last hours...

"Looks good. Better than the cast," Castiel said encouragingly, then he looked up and met Dean's eyes with a cheeky smirk. He took the book Dean had failed to read confidently out of Dean's hands, their fingers were lightly touching. Then he gave Dean another heavy book, one he had hidden in his jacket pocket. Fascinated Dean flipped through the pages, he estimated there were at least three hundred poems in that book, a little treasure.

"Th-thank you," he stuttered, unable to tear his eyes away from the pages. Castiel got up, the mattress rose up as his body weight left it. He took one of Dean's hand and held it loosely in his, looking down at him with a tender smile – Dean had no choice but to let his gaze roam over Castiel's beautiful, tranquil features. He looked ethereal, inhumanely handsome.

"Why don't you get changed and meet me in the basement? I'll be in the pool waiting for you," Castiel suggested quietly. His low voice caused goosebumps on Dean's skin, made him light-headed and entranced. He nodded, absolutely dumbstruck, and Castiel squeezed his hand, then he let go and was gone as quickly as he had come.

…

Dean felt like a sex offender when he made his way to the basement, only dressed in his swimming trunks and a bathrobe to veil his body. It was strenuous to walk with the crutches, and he was a little out of breath when he finally came to the indoor swimming bath. Castiel had been right: he had met no one on his way here, and the silence welcoming him made him understand he and Castiel would be alone. The dim, turquoise light quavered oddly against the tiled walls, the hall was spacious and filled with a huge, square pool. Dean saw Castiel swimming in the water, a lonesome figure in the surrounding, light blue. He must have noticed Dean standing awkwardly near the lowered entrance to the pool, a marbled staircase. Castiel waded through the water, a bright smile on his lips, and Dean simply lost it as Castiel emerged from the depths and came to him.

Thousand shiny beads trailed down his well-defined chest. Small rivulets were traveling down over Castiel's pecs, his slim torso, his flat, toned stomach. Every sensible thought left Dean, he was barely aware his jaw dropped. Castiel's sharp, bulging hipbones, his cute bellybutton, the small waist... a dark line of his happy trail disappeared where his wet, black bathing trunks begun. Dean didn't know where to look his fill, there were so many body parts he found admiring, arousing.

Absentmindedly he slowly doffed his bathrobe and placed it over the nearby metall pole, he let his crutches fall down to the ground with a little thud. He was painfully conscious of his own body, only dressed in his dark-blue bathing trunks as well, and though he had never been ashamed of his appearance, he couldn't help but feel a little floppy compared to his therapist's taut body. Castiel was standing in front of him now, the water was waist-high. He looked as gorgeous as Dean had imagined, good enough to eat. Dean felt wobbly, his knees suddenly failed to support his body weight. Carefully he stepped into the water, holding on to the banister rail – he felt Castiel's attentive eyes on him, watching his every tentative move. Those eyes were consuming him, their gaze left a raw fire burning fiercely on Dean's skin. When Dean was finally in the water, Castiel stood before him and they smiled hesitantly at each other.

"So, what now, oh great one? I'm in the water, but I can't swim, I can barely move forward," Dean sulked. Castiel rolled his eyes over-dramatically, then he approached Dean even further, there was barely a hand's breadth space between their bodies. With widened eyes Dean watched him, how close he was. Aghast he saw Castiel bent slightly, then there was an arm around Dean's ribs, the other was placed between the bend of his knees – in an instant Castiel had uplifted him with his strong arms, carrying Dean bridal style. Naturally Dean squirmed and writhed in Castiel's arms, he went as red as a beet, he could feel the heat in his cheeks. Castiel only laughed heartily and held Dean tighter, and eventually Dean laughed too, though he kept struggling for freedom.

"Cas, let me down, you son of a bitch! I'm not a girl!" he protested, though he still chuckled. He regarded Castiel's quirky grin, the amusement dancing in his blue irises, and suddenly, Dean was at ease, he even found it somewhat comfortable in Castiel's grip, and he stopped fighting. A huge lump corded up his throat; pleasure, close to pain, lingered inside of him, it was impossible to breathe consistently. Dean gulped heavily, trying to erase the pleasure-pain constricting his airways – yet he could not when he caught Castiel's eyes remaining on his steadily, seemingly unperturbed and ignorant to Dean's inner turmoil. Castiel was the source for that exploding frenzy and the excitement and agitation that came along with it.

"No, but you don't want to drown, and this is how we do it," Castiel insisted, then he waded through the water once more, with Dean in his arms. Their eyes were glued to one another, and Dean was overwhelmed with the stunning beauty of Castiel's eyes beholding him with affection. The shimmering lights, along with the restless movement in the water, underlined the unique colour of his irises, and they contained a tender, fond hunch as Castiel looked deeply into Dean's eyes. Dean felt as if in a dream, he could sense Castiel's naked, wet skin against his ribcage and hip. His strong, slender fingers digging into the flesh of his side and knee, as he held him pressed against him with gentle force. The fluency of the lukewarm water was all around them, Dean enjoyed the weightlessness, which was the usual side effect of being in a swimming pool. He was absolutely astonished with Castiel's self-assured demeanour, how he held him in his arms and walked with him through the shallower parts of the water, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Dean knew they weren't exactly training, but he shut his mouth and just enjoyed to feel Castiel this intimately and to feel so blithe in the water's soothing embrace. It didn't take long, five minutes at the maximum, and Castiel was strolling to the edge of the pool, with Dean in his arms. Dizziness took possession of Dean, when Castiel maneuvered him, so that he found himself shoved against the tiled wall with his back – all at once, Castiel grabbed his upper thighs and Dean wrapped them around Castiel's hips in an unspoken understanding between them. So he hadn't been mistaken about the sexual tension lingering in the air, Dean thought flustered. His heart leapt into his throat when he lost himself in Castiel's eyes penetrating his – he looked astounding, fierce, demanding. By itself Dean's arms came around Castiel's boney shoulders and his bare neck and he pulled him closer, towards him. The littlest smile tugged at Castiel's lips, and Dean forgot to breathe, his heart stopped beating, as he watched Castiel's lids shut slowly. He drew him in and welcomed him as their lips met shyly, gingerly.

For a gut-wrenching moment they held still, their lips idly pressed together. Then they leapt at each other unrestrainedly and they kissed fervently, with endless devotion. Castiel's lips were softer than Dean would have thought, they fit perfectly to his. He loved how Castiel applied the right amount of pressure, how he kissed Dean breathless, it blew him right away. His whole body felt like jelly, a blazing fire was lit in his abdomen. He perceived Castiel's hips shifting, how he rutted his pelvis against Dean's. A whole body shudder overwhelmed Dean and he couldn't stop but tremble against Castiel's figure nervously, deeply aroused– Castiel was all wet and lithe and muscular, and oh so perfectly warm and inviting.

Their lips let go of one another, they panted swiftly against their mouths. Through half-closed eyes Dean watched Castiel observing him, his eyes were dark and hooded with lust. Again their mouths crushed together, Dean's fingers curled into the dark strands of Castiel's hair, he clutched his scalp forcefully and pressed their lips harder together. Castiel's hands framed Dean's face lovingly, he made Dean tilt his head to deepen their kisses. Dean complied to Castiel's lead and opened his mouth a little, welcoming Castiel's tongue. When it touched Dean's tongue, a hot flash rumbled through Dean, he became promptly rigid, an aroused moan left him. Castiel's French kisses were painfully skilled, it made Dean all tingly inside, and he responded with the same desperate desire, tugging at Castiel's hair.

It scared Dean, how easily he lost every sensible thought whenever he kissed Castiel's compliant, plump lips. What were they even doing? He knew he shouldn't kiss Castiel, he knew he shouldn't exchange these frantic fondlings with him – there were enough reasons for Dean to stay away from Castiel, as far as he possibly could. Dean knew all of that, and still he couldn't make himself care. It simply felt too good to be touched and possessed by the other man, to feel the same ecstatic lust boiling between them, mirrored in every movement.

Once the first initial shock had passed their mouths paused their kisses, and Dean let his hands wander to Castiel's jaw and cheek unabashedly. They both huffed and puffed, overwhelmed with the sudden outburst of their cravings; Dean kept his lips close to Castiel's as he opened his eyes and drowned in the dilated, wild eyes darting over his face in amazement. How could Castiel make him feel so important, so remarkable, due to an appreciative glance, his sweetest smile? Dean nipped at Castiel's bottom lip, his eyes resting on Castiel's boldly. He was overjoyed to hear a low moan from the other man, how Castiel's lids fluttered shut, he seemed overpowered with yearning.

Incredible heat streamed through Dean's lower stomach, he realized he was growing hard. He could already sense the thick, hard outline of Castiel's erection pressed against him. Dean couldn't control it as he groaned frantically and rotated his hips in small circles, sliding against Castiel's bulge seductively.

"Oh God, Cas," he whispered against the wet, luscious mouth and Castiel kissed him passionately, bruising Dean's lips with his own. Breathlessly they let go of one another, underneath the water Castiel's hand seized Dean's hip and he replied to Dean's movements and pushed his pelvis forward, meeting Dean's eager thrusts as he kept Dean in place, close to his overexcited crotch.

"I know," Cas sighed, leaving sublte, airy, open-mouthed kisses on Dean's jaw and neck, working his way down.

"I know, I want you too," he spoke under his breath, making Dean harden even more. He was lolling in Castiel's arms as he rode his eager thrusts, searching for more, wonderful friction. Their erect cocks touched through the thin texture of their bathing trunks, slid together, and a hot shiver ran down Dean's spine. He was twitching with oversensitivity when Castiel bit into the crook of his neck and grinded against his throbbing length; his blunt fingernails scraped over Castiel's broad shoulders, his muscular, firm back, trying to find some hold. The water sloshed out of the basin as they moved together, again and again their mouths were melting together in heady, exasperated kisses. Suddenly Castiel stopped, his hands had enclosed Dean's face. They were both breathless and painfully hard, Dean could feel himself squirm and pulsate against Castiel's erection. Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's and kissed his lips fleetingly, then he held still and Dean ceased stirring too. He was too entranced with the manner with which Castiel held his cheeks, how he pressed his forehead against Dean's desperately.

"Dean, don't make me come in here," Castiel moaned against Dean's mouth, he could feel the little wafts of air of every word touching his bottom lip; his abdomen convulsed, he was shaking from head to toe with arousal. What a silly request, how could they stop now? Now that their chests were hotly conjoined, now that they were both hard and filled with pent-up, sexual ecstasy? In the background of his awareness Dean remembered the confession Castiel had made a week ago – that he wanted his next intercourse with someone to matter; and who was Dean to bereave him of that? He nodded wordlessly and wrapped his arms around Castiel's neck again. He tried to come down from this mind-blowing exhilaration when Castiel engulfed him in a hug too – his thighs still enveloped Castiel's waist, but neither of them seemed to mind. They held on to each other tightly; Dean could feel Castiel's wet, moist breath bedewing the skin of his neck and he snuggled into him and kissed his shoulder coyly. This felt good, regardless every reason, Dean thought. This felt homely, thrilling, intimate, just right.

Despite all the care taken they couldn't withstand touching the other man; Dean's hands groped Castiel's shoulders, back and firm, round butt unabashedly, and Castiel's fingers stroked Dean's sides and hips slowly, torturously. They were as closely compressed as physically possible, and their restrained caresses and touches weren't as chaste as needed. It took a while until they managed to get rid of their erections; they kissed less but stroked each other instead – however, whenever their lips collided, the fire and passion were instantly rekindled. Dean couldn't remember having felt this way before, as he clung to Castiel's body and enjoyed his little, tender fondlings. It felt as if he was burning alive, like some beast tore his chest up – and yet it felt so good, so perfect... Usually it had never been complicated – when he wanted sex, he normally found a willing partner, they got on with it and then the whole show was over. With Castiel, things were different, absurdly different even. He was content do accept what Castiel was willing to give him and to return as much; for the first time ever Dean had found someone who didn't go to bed with him instantly, and he was ready to wait, even if that meant he would never sleep with Castiel.

Minutes passed, it was hard to say how many – it seemed like eons and seconds simultaneously. They stood in the lukewarm water in a motionless embrace, as if time had come to a standstill. Dean had his cheek pillowed on Castiel's shoulder lazily, his arms and legs were around the therapist's body; around them, the water began to feel cold, only their conjoined chests and bellies provided much needed warmth. Dean felt Castiel's fingers sift through his hair endlessly, sometimes the other man left innocent kisses on his bare neck. All in all Dean felt calm, incredibly calm and safe in those arms; he never wanted to let go, he never wanted to miss this feeling or Castiel's nearness. After a while it became too uncomfortable though, their fingertips were crinkly and their body temperatures had dropped. So Castiel retreated a little from the pool's edge and wrapped his arms around Dean's waistline as well; he held him close and waded with him through the water, towards the marbled stairs. Dean lowered his sane leg as soon as they reached the stairway. He was adamant to climb the stairs on his own, and while he made his demanding journey to dry land, he felt Castiel's supporting palm on the small of his back.

When they emerged and the cooling draught hit their wet skin, Dean began to shiver, his teeth chattered unceremoniously. Castiel walked to a nearby wooden bench and grabbed a huge bathing towel. He winded it around Dean's shoulders with a tender smile, while Dean stood on one leg, quavering at the sudden coldness. The towel around him felt warm and nice, and Castiel started toweling his arms and torso agilely – all the while his eyes rested on Dean's, and Dean had to smile fondly as he detected the mirthful gleam in Castiel's irises. It was such a heart-wrenching, kind gesture of Castiel to dry him... Dean's body relaxed immensely when Castiel gave him his bathrobe and as he cloaked himself in it.

He couldn't avert his glance when Castiel started toweling himself too with experienced, quick motions. Dean saw endless expanses of tanned, however still rosy skin, as well as trim muscles, slim flesh and prominent bones on Castiel's hips, his shoulders... It was a fascinating sight; Dean felt his thunderous heartbeats gaining speed the longer he let his eyes roam over Castiel's intriguing body – he already missed to touch his body and to be touched by him in return. When Castiel was done and had donned a bathrobe too, he approached Dean with an unreadable smile on his lips; he leaned forward, his lids shut sensually slowly, then he kissed Dean's compliant mouth harshly, Dean responded to the kiss eagerly. He was about to let his fingers glide into Castiel's hair and to pull him closer, but in that moment, Castiel let go and breathed against Dean's kiss-wet lips hotly. A smashing intensity burnt in Castiel's blue globes as they beheld Dean, making Dean's mouth run dry, his insides all fickle and jumpy. Castiel intertwined his fingers gently with Dean's blindly, his eyes holding Dean's captive effortlessly.

"Come on, I'll walk you to your room," Castiel said softly, and Dean nodded, though he felt not too overly excited to be without Castiel's company so soon again.

…

When they reached Dean's room and when Castiel shut the door behind them silently, Dean was glad to understand Castiel wasn't leaving him straight away. Dean sat down on his bed with a groan and placed the crutches aside – he would have to get changed soon, unless he wanted to fall asleep in his wet bathing trunks; the bath robe was already dank, but at the moment, he couldn't care less about it. His limbs felt heavy, his body worn out, and he was glad he wasn't freezing anymore. The warm bedsheets seductively near at hand, Dean had half a mind to lie down properly. Only the bedside lamp brought some light into the surrounding darkness. Dean was hypnotized when he saw the light beams refract in Castiel's dilated eyes, as the dark-haired man walked up to him, looking enchantingly beautiful.

Dean took a sharp inhale of surprise when Castiel got down on his knees and knelt in front of him. He was looking up into Dean's eyes resolutely and placed two warm palms on Dean's half-dressed upper thighs nonchalantly. Dean felt their warmth sift through his flesh, the soft skin of Castiel's fingertips tingled lightly. Their mutual gazes continued for a few lengthy moments, until slowly a little smile crawled to Castiel's lips, making Dean smile as well. Castiel moved forward and uplifted his head, a pained sensuality veiled his features – it struck Dean hard to see the devotion besieging Castiel's astounding face and how he shut his lids and approached Dean's mouth determinately. Dean realised he was to blame for that notion of lust and yearning growing inside his therapist, and something akin to pride and compassion bloomed in Dean's chest. He couldn't stand seeing Castiel so obviously torn in two. Dean lost every sensible thought when he saw Castiel parted his lips slightly, in anticipation of Dean's answering mouth.

Possessiveness rattled through Dean and blurred everything else, he only had eyes for Castiel, on his knees, between Dean's legs – he tilted his head and closed the gruesome gap between them, placing his lips chastely on Castiel's. They were warm and dry and tasted sweet, as sweet as maple syrup and pancakes on a lazy sunny morning, and the soapy, clean smell of Castiel's body, combined with the waves of his body heat embracing Dean, made Dean's head swim vigorously. He kissed Castiel intensely, he already loved the sensation of his full, slightly chapped lips crushing against his with the right amount of pressure and a healthy amount of teasing cleverness. How Castiel sucked at his bottom lip for example, or how he traced his tongue torturously slowly over the seams of Dean's mouth, only to dive between Dean's lips and ravage his mouth with skilled French kisses...

Things evolved rapidly then – before Dean knew it, one of his hands had fisted the lapels of Castiel's gown and pulled him nearer, his other fingers dug vehemently into Castiel's clothed shoulder. Castiel's warm slender fingers went stray in Dean's slightly overgrown hair, tugging at it forcefully to slam their skulls together; their foreheads touched, and whenever they stopped kissing to regain some breath, they stayed in this position, keeping as much of the proximity as possible. They were making out, and it was wonderful – calming and exciting at the same time. It took Dean's mind off things, and he wished it could always be so easy to lose himself in another person. Dean felt giddy after a while, he was inebriated with Castiel's kisses, his sweet, benign caresses. He hungered for more, but yet, this was already enough. It was unbelievably satisfying to forget himself and his complicated life in Castiel's warmth, his onslaught on Dean's lips, the shaking exhales, which filled the room. Finally they let go and Castiel stood up with a coy grin. Dean recognized Castiel's lips were deep red and swollen, they looked fuller and even more tempting and he groaned quietly as he realized he was to blame for the state of those kissable, adorable lips. He missed them already, his own lips vibrated with the aftershocks of Castiel's wild kisses.

"Dean, I've got to go. It's close to ten and the night watch will be here soon", Castiel said breathlessly – his voice sounded hoarse and husky; it made Dean's flesh crawl, a hot shudder ran down his spine. He nodded stupidly, not trusting his voice to sound less croaky or high-pitched. Castiel came nearer once more, he stroked through Dean's hair cautiously, his eyes clinging to Dean's.

"When will I see you again?" Dean gasped out, all voiceless and quiet, it was barely a whisper. His heart dropped into his gut, a storm of various untaimed emotions swirled through his brain. God, had he really asked that? He sounded like a lovesick puppy, and he hated that – but he needed to see Castiel again. He wanted this affinity, he couldn't help but feel close to Castiel at all manner of levels. The gleeful smile creeping on Castiel's mouth spoke volumes, and in the next second, Dean found himself embraced by Castiel, the therapist's arms around his shoulder, and Dean's forehead pressed cosily against Castiel's dressed torso. He sighed and enjoyed how Castiel's hands stroked along his back recurringly. It felt so intimate, as if they knew each other for years – in this peaceful moment, Dean had no doubts, no fears, he just merged in Castiel's caresses.

"You can come around tomorrow after lunch, if you like. You know now where I live..." Castiel suggested, and Dean could hear the smile within his words. He nodded wordlessly and allowed their bodies to morph into one for a second longer, enjoying the sensation of another body around his. When they let go at last, Castiel bent down and kissed Dean's lips sweetly, briefly. He could feel the smile on Castiel's lips as their lips moved together. There were some more last kisses, until Castiel finally pulled away and let his thumb brush over Dean's bottom lip thoughtfully.

"Goodnight," Castiel cooed. Dean gulped heavily, his throat still ached due to the painful and marvelous emotions coiling inside of him. He watched Castiel open the door and turning around once more to give him a gentle smile.

"Night, Cas," he said flabbergasted; then the dark-haired man was gone, and Dean was left with his confusing thoughts, amazed at himself and the events of this evening.

TBC

Ugh, so... what do you think? I'm a little in love with Castiel in this chapter... x3