A/N: Hey everyone! Believe me, I know how long it's been since I've updated… I haven't forgotten about you, I promise! And to reward your waiting, we have here a chapter that is both a) happy and b) shamelessly smutty. I hope it helps y'all get through the winter blahs.

As of now I think there are about 7 chapters left in this fic. Thanks for everyone who has stuck with it this far, and for all of the lovely reviews. They give me life!

And, once again, this fic is dedicated to the wonderful, amazing improvcrazed.

Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen

The next two weeks grate on Dean's nerves like sandpaper. He goes through the motions of his day, but finds that none of it means anything. Not without Castiel. He spends his entire day worrying, his muscles tense and his jaw locked, eyes steeled to everything outside of himself. He spends so long like that that he becomes exhausted. The churning in his stomach and the pang in his chest whenever he pictures Cas's face become second nature to him, and he follows their rhythms through the day because he's at a loss of what else to do. By the time he gets home, he can barely stand, but as soon as he drops into bed, he can't sleep. He lies in bed and stares at the ceiling. He switches his pillows so that he can bury his nose in the one that Cas's head had been on, and he holds it irrationally tight, even when it stops smelling like him.

Sam comes home from school every day with news. Dean knows that it's hurting Sam's reputation to even be seen talking to Cas, and he feels guilty, but he can't deny the feeling of relief rushing through him every time Sam brings him back a note or a message. It's the only part of Cas that he has access too, and he's thankful for it. But whenever a new message comes, it only makes him feel Cas's absence more acutely.

However, when he gets a handwritten note scrawled on lined paper saying that Cas has somehow gotten his parent's permission to go to the "bible retreat" on the weekend, Dean feels his heart clench around hope once more. He knows it won't fix things, and he knows it's just a weekend, but he gets to see Cas, and at this point it's all he can think about.

Dean takes Friday off of work, and goes grocery shopping for the first time in a while. It's a grey, drizzly day, but he makes many trips from the house to the barn and back again, stuffing the Impala's trunk full of blankets, clothes, and food.

At three, he drives out to the gas station where they'd agreed to meet. The lot is empty, but he pulls in behind the convenience store anyway, not willing to chance someone seeing his admittedly conspicuous car. He's staring up at the slate-grey of the sky, his nerves buzzing with an energy he hasn't felt for years. Drumming his hands on the steering wheel, he realizes that he's nervous. He's spent so many of the past years being cocky and arrogant, and he realizes that his discomfort is coming from the fact that, for once, he actually cares about what Castiel thinks of him. Not just cares, but obsesses over the fact that he may not be good enough, Cas might change his mind, that he'll find someone better who'll come along and whisk him away. It's stupid, he knows, but his heart beats faster every time he looks out his window to check if Cas has appeared.

He just wants everything to be perfect. He wants to be perfect for Castiel.

He doesn't have to wait long before Cas comes striding across the parking lot. He's got his beige trench coat buttoned up, some drops of rain beading off of it, some catching on his eyelashes. Dean can't help smiling a gigantic, dorky smile at the sight of his face, beautiful but exasperated by the rain, determined but gentle.

He's still smiling when Cas slips into the seat next to him, throwing his duffel bag into the back. Their eyes meet and Cas breaks out into a smile too. They sit there and stare at each other for a full minute before they both start blushing and feeling ridiculous. Dean breaks the silence.

"I missed you," he murmurs, "like, a lot."

"I missed you more," Cas says. Dean takes him in, looks him over, making sure that he's okay, that no one has laid a hand on him since he's been confined to his house. His eyes linger a bit too long. "What?" Cas finally asks.

"Nothing…" Dean sighs. "You're just… you're so beautiful."

Cas gives a little laugh. "You're ridiculous. Let's go."

Dean starts driving, only feeling free when they reach the highway and he turns up the stereo, the rain hitting the windshield and being wiped away by the frantic motion of the wipers. The Rolling Stones are being drowned out by the sound of the raindrops on the metal of the car, and the white noise is soothing and washing away Dean's anxiety. Cas looks blissful in the passenger seat, his eyes closed.

"I thought about you," Dean says, "every second. I couldn't stand being away from you."

Cas opens his eyes and gazes at Dean. "I'm sorry," he says.

"You know it wasn't your fault, Cas," Dean says, taking his eyes off of the road for a moment to gaze into Cas's dark blue eyes.

"I know," Cas says quietly. "It's them. And I'm sorry that you have to put up with… everything they've done."

Dean reaches over and covers Castiel's hand with his own. "Hey. It's okay. It could be worse, right? We're going to get through it."

They get to the cabin shortly after seven in the evening. The rain has let up but the grass is still wet as they move their things inside. Bobby had told Dean that the cabin had been built by his grandfather, and Dean can tell that Bobby hadn't made many changes. It's a beautiful log cabin, right on the lake, situated right before the grass turns into sand. The lake stretches farther than Dean can see, and gentle grey waves lap at the shoreline. They get out of the car with most of their bags and make it to the porch, rainwater seeping into the collars of their shirts. Dean is fumbling to get the unfamiliar key into the lock when Cas drops the luggage and pushes him back against the door roughly. His mouth is on Dean's immediately, hungrily taking in his lips, sucking and biting, hands braced on either side of Dean's face. Dean doesn't waste any time kissing back. Cas forces him up against the wet wood of the door, and Dean gives in, lacing his arms around Cas's neck and relishing in the pressure of Cas's hips against his own. When Cas draws back for air, Dean gives a flustered laugh, cold drops dripping down his face.

"We're gonna get soaked," he smiles.

Cas raises eyebrow suggestively. "You'd better get that door open then."

Dean's shivering with anticipation as he finally fits the key into the lock and drags the luggage in behind him, closing the door to the rain. As he's feeling along the wall for a light switch, Cas presses himself up behind him, planting small kisses along the back of his neck.

"It's freezing in here," Dean says. The living room is carpeted, spread open before them with a couch and a small coffee table. Behind that there's a door to the bedroom, and a kitchen off to the left. Dean eyes the fireplace on the far wall and the stack of firewood next to it. "What do you say we dry off, light a fire and settle in for the night?"

"Sounds perfect."

Dean turns towards Cas and kisses the top of his forehead, burying his nose in his damp hair. The gravity of the situation sets in, and Dean's hit with a rush of gratitude that he finally has Cas standing in front of him. "I'm so glad we're here," he whispers against Cas's cool skin.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," Cas replies.

Dean finishes lugging the food in from the Impala while Cas lights a fire and sets out a bed of blankets in front of the fireplace. By the time Dean has made sure his car is safely locked in the gravel driveway, Cas has the fire roaring and is sitting in front of the orange flames, his wet jacket cast aside. Dean sheds his own and tumbles to his knees onto the soft haven of the blankets.

"Are you hungry?" Dean asks, wanting to make sure that everything is perfect before he lets himself fall completely into Cas's blue eyes.

"No," Cas reaches out a hand to Dean, beckoning him closer. "Only for you."

Dean doesn't have to be told twice. He draws Cas up to his knees and pulls him into a kiss, wrapping his arms around Cas's narrow torso. "I've been dreaming about you for two weeks," Dean whispers between kisses. "Seeing your face, hearing your voice. Touching your skin." Dean slides his arms under the back of Castiel's shirt, reveling in the smoothness and warmth he finds there. "I never want to have to be away from you again."

"Me neither," Cas breaths as he pushes Dean's plaid shirt off and glides his hands up Dean's chest under his black t-shirt. "I thought about you every day. I wrote about you. I wrote about us. I couldn't get you off of my mind." Cas's nimble fingers tweak Dean's nipples under the soft cotton of his shirt, making him gasp. "I thought about all of the things I'd do to you when we're alone."

Cas pulls Dean's t-shirt off and kisses his neck, from behind his ear down to his collar bone. He takes his time with each inch, his hands exploring the skin on Dean's back, periodically dipping beneath the waistband of Dean's jeans and pulling Dean's pelvis against his own. Dean feels the blood rushing down, feels his cock stiffening in his jeans. Just as his knees are getting weak, Cas abandons the hickey he's leaving on Dean's neck and gently pushes him down onto the mess of pillows and blankets.

Looking ethereal, still in his stark white dress shirt and beige pants, Cas hovers over Dean, the softness in his eyes enhanced by the warm light of the fire. He fingers off Dean's belt, throws it aside, and works to get the damp denim off of Dean's legs. Dean's boxers are tented, and Cas dives down and starts gently sucking the tip through the fabric. Dean groans and instinctively spreads his legs, wanting Cas to be closer, wanting more of the sensation. The comforting warmth of the fireplace spreads though the room.

"What do you want, Dean?" Cas asks from between Dean's legs, his eyes a mischievous, glowing blue.

"Anything," Dean sighs blissfully. "With you, literally anything."

Cas smirks and lowers Dean's boxers. He goes down again, this time taking Dean into his mouth so far that Dean can feel the tip of his dick hitting the back of Cas's throat. Dean eases back, not wanting to hurt him, but Cas greedily pulls him back in, swirling his tongue around the hilt as he sucks Dean in and lets him go, agonizingly slow.

"I have something to tell you," Cas says suavely when he comes up for air. He holds Dean's gaze and smirks before once more taking Dean in his mouth, using his tongue to flick around the slit of Dean's throbbing cock.

"Hmm?" Dean mumbles incoherently. He threads his hand through Cas's hair. He feels himself heavy, leaking precum, and the last thing he wants is for this too be over quickly. "What is it?"

Cas comes up and kisses Dean on the lips, the tastes of Cas's warm tongue and his own precum mixing in his mouth. Cas smirks again. "You know how I said I wanted you to fuck me?"

"Yeah," Dean says, remembering the perfect evening they'd spent in his room. "But you said you weren't ready, and I totally respect that, there's no pressure from me…"

"Well…" Castiel traces down Dean's chest with two fingers, eventually brushing over his stomach and down to his groin. He takes Dean's cock in his hand and gives two heavenly tugs before he leans in and whispers, "I've been practicing. In my room, late at night… getting ready."

Dean feels his heart shoot straight down to his dick. His mouth goes dry at the image of Cas alone in his room with the lights off, gasping as he pushes another finger into himself, his head tossed back on the pillows, hips canted away from the mattress, his bigoted family sleeping feet away.

"Jesus, Cas…"

"I'm ready now," Cas says, his eyes gleaming and hungry. "If you want to."

"Oh, I want to," Dean says. Cas puts one leg on either side of Dean's torso and sits, guiding Dean's hands up to the buttons of his white shirt. "I would be honored to," Dean adds as he slowly works at the buttons. A red flush spreads across Castiel's cheeks. Dean pushes Cas's shirt off and revels in the expanse of creamy skin he finds. He can't ignore the bulge in Castiel's pants, or the small damp spot leaking through.

"May I?" Dean asks, his fingers poised on the button Cas's pants.

"Please," Cas moans, leaning forward to kiss Dean again, deep and long, as Dean blindly works off Cas's pants and underwear in a tangle of legs. Once they're both naked, it's almost irresistible to lock their hips together and find each other's heat, but Dean knows it's Castiel's first time and he wants to do it right.

"Here, lay on your back for a minute," Dean instructs, positioning a pillow under Cas's hips and many under his head. He alternates his preparations with kisses, never willing to lose contact with Cas's lips for more than a moment. Finally, Cas is splayed across the pillows, his hips and erect cock raised, his arms thrown wantonly up around his head. "God, Cas, you're so gorgeous."

Dean covers Cas's body with his own, seeking out every inch of skin, and kisses Cas, wishing he could find the words to express what's welling up inside his chest.

"If you ever feel uncomfortable, you tell me, okay?" Dean says. Cas nods in response, an easy smile on his face.

Dean abandons Cas's lips and kisses his way down his flawless body, stopping for a few moments to lavish attention on his beautiful cock before hitching both of his Castiel's legs over his shoulders. He takes Cas's balls in his hand to play with them as he spreads Cas's cheeks apart and uses his tongue to lick along his cleft until he finds Cas's hole. He starts to gently lick and kiss, pressing gently against the bundle of muscles and feeling Cas start to squirm and gasp above him. "Just relax," Dean reassures him softly, moving his hand to stroke Castiel's thigh. "Let the tension go. You'll be okay."

Dean can feel the shift in Castiel's body as he starts to open up. Dean continues licking and swiping with his tongue, probing Cas's hole as he feels him relax more, and eventually slipping the end of his tongue inside him. Cas lets out a desperate moan and grasps Dean's free hand, intertwining their fingers, squeezing them to signal that Dean should keep going. Dean plunges his tongue in and out of Cas, teasing the muscles and feeling Cas writhe down beneath him.

"You okay?" Dean takes a break to ask.

"I'm amazing, but… that… just makes me feel like want… like I need… more."

Cas's blown pupils and messy hair paired with his inarticulacy make Dean chuckle. "You want more?"

"Yes," Cas demands, his voice gravelly. "Now."

Dean obeys, bringing himself back up to kiss Castiel as he grabs the lube from his nearby bag, coats his fingers, and runs one up between Cas's already wide-open legs. Dean uses one hand to cup Castiel's face, staring straight into his heavenly eyes as he gently pushes the first finger in, feeling Castiel's muscles adjust around him. Cas lets out a guttural cry, grinding down on Dean's hand before begging for more. Dean goes slowly, working in another finger, and finally a third. Castiel is leaking all of his stomach, and Dean is still rock hard at the thought of what's about to come.

"Are you ready?" Dean asks, breathlessly.

"Yes," Cas says, and Dean loves the way he can feel the low vibration of his voice through his whole body. "I just… would it be okay if I was on top?"

Dean smiles. "You've been thinking about this?"

Cas draws Dean in and kisses him hard. "Only every night."

Dean doesn't waste much time arranging himself on his back, legs spread wide, so Cas can fit perfectly on top of him, his knees on either side of Dean's torso and the bottoms of his bare feet under Dean's spread thighs. Cas looks down at Dean, stoking his jawbone gently with his thumb.

"I love you so much, Dean," he says, the emotion evident in his voice.

Dean kisses him one more time before reaching down to get more lube, and to help align his throbbing cock with Cas's opening. He pushes in the first inch slowly, watching Cas's face for any signs of pain.

Cas has his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open, his features half caught by concentration and half by bliss. "More," he says, his voice wrecked and begging. "I'm ready."

Dean pushes in more, sending his pulse through the roof, as Cas grasps at his chest and plants one hand there for support. "You're amazing," Dean pants. He pushes the rest of the way in and lets Cas adjust to the sensation. After a moment, Cas begins to move slowly, rolling his hips experimentally.

"Open your eyes," Cas whispers. Dean opens them, not having realized they'd been closed. "I want us to be able to see each other."

The fire bathes their makeshift-bed in a red-orange glow as Cas starts to move more, riding Dean's cock, bringing it slowly in and out of himself. Dean lets his head fall back on the pillows, never breaking eye contact with Cas. When Cas gets to the point where he wants more than what his own movement can give him, Dean starts thrusting, gently and languidly, reaching down and cupping Cas's ass so he can pull him in closer.

Cas's face is flushed, and he lets out a whimper every time Dean goes deep enough to hit his prostrate and send pure bliss sparking through all of his nerve endings. Dean keeps their movements slow, relishing in watching Cas's beautiful body rising and falling above him, even as the slow burn begins to devour them both.

"It's like… there's no one else," Cas breathes, his eyes gleaming dark blue, "no one else on earth but us. Like nothing else matters. And it feels like you can see every part of me. And I want you to. I want you to have all of me."

Cas starts rolling his hips in circles, grinding down and sending Dean into white hot bliss. Cas reaches back and brings Dean's hands in front of them, joining them together as Dean's thrusts begin to get faster. Cas reciprocates just as fast, letting out guttural sounds every time Dean's cock grazes his prostate.

Cas squeezes their hands together as he slams his body down again and again against Dean's, his mouth open, his eyes still locked onto Dean's. Dean can feel his orgasm building up and is going hard and fast when Cas cries out, throwing his head back and coming all over Dean's chest. Dean can feel the clenching of Cas's muscles as he empties himself, coating Dean's chest in cum, and it's that that does Dean in. He bucks his hips erratically and he's done, his labored breathing matching Cas's, riding out one of the best orgasms he can remember having. Cas's fingers are trembling in his own, and his eyes are still on Dean's, a serene smile on his face.

Dean rolls Cas over so they can lay side to side, wiping up their mess with an extra blanket.

"Was that okay for you?" Dean asks, moving to hold Cas in his arms, not wanting to lose the closeness they'd achieved.

"It was better than I ever thought it could be," Cas says. "It was everything." Cas kisses him sleepily. "You're everything."

Dean lets the fire go on crackling in the grate as he covers Cas and himself with blankets. Ecstatically he realizes that it's only Friday, and that he still has two full days alone with Cas.

"You're my everything," Dean echoes. "Don't forget that."

The two lose track of time, laying face to face, exploring each other's lips and learning the each line and crevice of each other's hands. Dean doesn't want to fall asleep, doesn't want to leave the perfection they've created there. Even after Cas has drifted off, Dean stays awake watching his papery eyelids flutter, watching his chest rise and fall. The only way he can let himself go is knowing that they'll have tomorrow.