Dean had fallen asleep, his cheeks still flushed and a puff of steady air escaping parted lips. Once he knew the hunter was lost into his unconsciousness, Cas turned to watch him, as he had once watched over his charge long ago. It had once been a habit of simply making sure that the soul he had taken out of Hell was still safe. Then it had been because the human interested him, and when the hunter was awake staring too long was a taboo, unless he was being stared at just intently by the other, which was not always a good thing unfortunately.

Cas hadn't done it too often the last couple of years, not only because of difficulties of his grace or any of that, but also because his own emotions had changed. He could no longer stare at Dean for long without expressing the want he tried to hide.

He knew Dean wanted him too, at least in some way, but it wasn't something Cas had ever expected becoming more in the light of day. Just lingering touches, intense stares, and a bond that went past understanding. Maybe, on lucky night like this, there might even be teasing and hints at an intimacy that Cas would never be allowed to have. But it was never more than that. It had never been as rich as this night. Never so close to admitting to the truth that was between them.

The chain on Cas' wrist pulled gently as Dean shuffled slightly, a small grin on his expression before settling back into the comfort of his mattress. Obviously enjoying a dream. Cas wondered if they were of the usual dreams that Dean had found pleasurable in the few nights that he was freed from the grips of nightmares.

The angel was tempted to sink into Dean's dreams to see for himself what pleasures Dean comforted himself with. It had been a long time since Cas had invaded Dean's sleeping thoughts, and he knew doing such would not be welcome. However, he couldn't help but feel, it would be something.

And Cas needed something. He'd spent too many days tied to the object of his adoration, having to withstand the joy of being so close to him, along with the resentful treatment of a bitter friend. There were too many hours spent doing nothing except being confined by an active mind and angelic chains. There had been much torture having realized that he was being openly flirted with, only to have it end too soon.

Why had Dean been so open this evening, anyways? Especially considering the way their morning had gone. Or Dean's meltdown the previous evening, completely defeated by a panic attack because of the intimacy they had been put into. Or, Cas pondered, not intimacy, but the humiliation. Not their closeness, but because of the implication of the leash.

Dean moaned before shifting further into the memory foam mattress. It was a sound that Cas's vessel heating up and doing strange things. Things that, before the Reaper, would have confused the angel as to why it was happening to him.

This was the first night since they had been chained together that Dean had dreamed of such things. Had dreamed at all, in fact. Was it because of the flirting and the teasing that had permeated the evening? If so, what was the exact details of the pleasurable dream? A random woman or women that he could either watch lustfully or ravish completely? Or would Dean's subconscious be brave and more truthful than his waking self and instead dream of Cas?

Many minutes and too many distracting moans later, Cas came to the decision that set his vessel's heart pounding. Knowing that Dean would be enraged if he were to be caught, but unable to control the urge, Cas closed his eyes and sank into his companion's sleeping mind. It probably should have sent warning signs to Cas that his grace easily did so - a clear indication that Ishim approved of the invasion.

Surprisingly, the scene of Dean's dream wasn't on the bed of a sleazy moral room or a bar with strippers. He was in the shower. In the dreamscape Cas concentrated on the hunter's figure, the steam rolling off his heated body. Dean's head was thrown back in pure ecstasy, his lips parted to release the deep, rumbled moans that he had no desire in holding back.

Though Cas was aroused by the sight, he couldn't understand what would be erotic about this to Dean. Then he caught the glimpse of strong hands on the hunter's muscled shoulders, kneeling the flesh, gradually moving downwards. Invisible and all too interested, Cas kept his eyes on Dean's pleased expression and the way the hands moved down a gorgeous body.

He watched hungrily as one hand moved to the front to twist an already hard nipple. When the moan became crazed with need, his skin flushing not just from the hot water, the other hand went ever further down. Slowly, almost too slowly, that hand gently trailed against Dean's lower abdomen and upper thighs before wrapping itself around a generous length. Dean's breath hitched, his body backing into the body behind him, yearning for more contact and intimacy.

Whoever Dean dreamed of (and Cas had a pretty good idea who it was despite the heavy steam in the way) took the hint. One hand continued to play with Dean's nipples, twisting and pulling gently and then roughly, while the other hand rhythmically played with Dean's hardness. All the while Dean moaned and gyrated against the body until the pleasure became too much and white, hot fluid was spilling over the hand to be quickly washed away by the heated water.

Cas took himself out of the dream to "wake" beside Dean, his breath quick and wild. His chest pounded from the erotic sight he had witnessed. It only took a few seconds for Cas to take control of his breathing and become fully aware of himself. Dean was still sleeping beside him, comfortable and mentally sated. He was no longer moaning but he did have a small smile upon his lips. As for Cas, as angelic as he was, he was like a pubescent male with little experience when it came to pleasures of flesh.

Cas's sudden pull back into reality must have shifted the leash the tied them together, for it alerted the slumbering Dean who grumbled groggily, before blinking heavy eyelids awake. "Wha's up?" He mumbled, seeming to think Cas's unintentional jerking meant something was amiss.

"Nothing," Cas answered too quickly. "I apologize."

At that, Dean pushed himself onto his elbow to peer studiously at his friend. He studied Cas's face, trying to gauge his expression before his gaze ultimately drifting across his body to take in any notice of other signs of distress. His lips formed an "oh" at the glimpse of Cas's uncomfortable tension.

For a few seconds, the atmosphere between them was tense. Then, still drowsy, Dean chuckled good naturally. "Dude, don't worry about it. Happens all the time."

The statement didn't make Case feel any better, and the angel just shifted uncomfortable, accidentally pulling on the leash of Dean's neck, wanting nothing more than to fly away but unable to do so because of too many things wrong with him.

"You could take care of it," Dean mumbled, awake enough to be coherent but still caught in a groggy state. "Do you know how to take care of it? I could help you if you needed."

Cas beat red. He imagined what that help would include, and he wanted it very much, but he couldn't bring himself to accept. Not when this was real and could mean much more than the dream he had just seen or the teasing at the bar. "Go to sleep Dean." The soft command was obeyed without question or complaint, and soon the hunter was cuddled into the pillow, snoring soundly.

The angel closed his eyes, though it wouldn't be sleep he would escape into, embarrassed and overwhelmed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.