I like this song for this fanfiction.

Red - Shadows

Also, the movie I referenced is 'Christopher and his Kind' with Matt Smith, the 11th Doctor in Doctor Who. It wasn't a great movie, but it was touching, and the photography was amazing, as was the portrayal of the war.

I was embarrassed to be telling Dean all this. I related to a gay man in a Hollywood movie? Shameful. Disgraceful, almost. Except… I couldn't help but see our parallels. The fact that he'd returned my feverish kiss explained that he may understand my tendencies, but beyond that I was hardly hopeful. Almost afraid of what he'd think, I lifted my eyes to see him staring at me.

"That's strange, isn't it?" I managed, heart sinking.

He shook his head slowly back and forth, without breaking his stare. His eyes flickered, and he swallowed. "No, actually. That was… a good reason to figure things out." I could not tell if he was saddened or otherwise. Why did he look to be emotionally shaken? He looked off for a moment. "I just… I wish I'd known, you know? We've been wandering around like nothing was up for God knows how long." His gaze went to our hands, and then so did mine. "That must've been a big thing for you."

Biting my lip, I nodded. "It was hard at first. Everything was. I had to work out that I was… attracted to you now, and pretend everything was all right. I was falling into my own lies." I admitted. "It took a lot to anchor myself down and get back to the mission, but I had no choice. There are no sick days in a rebellion. Eventually I got myself together, and now we're here."

"Did it take that long?" My expression convinced him he was correct. "Wow, Cas, I had no idea."

"All the better for it. I needed to work it through on my own."

"Ah. I suppose that makes sense," he sighed.

"So if you're still unsteady, I understand entirely. I only wished to stop lying to myself. And to you," I explained.

He nodded in reply, and I could tell he was upset again. I had upset him. Angry with myself, I watched him withdraw into himself, clenching his emotions inside and trying to control them. Anger, confusion, guilt, shame. I read them plainly on his face. There was not much I could do to stop it – if indeed I did, it would only be more painful later. I loosened one of my hands from his and leaned forward, brushing my fingertips along the side of his face.

For a moment his tension lifted from surprise, and he met my gaze. What he saw there is unknowable. I do not know what I was feeling. Love, perhaps. But I exposed my tender affections yet again, stealing yet another kiss. He was not alone, and without me he would feel as if his entire world were caving in. I know what that feels like. I will not leave him to it as I was left. My fingers slid into the thick brown hair that curled down and caressed the back of his ear, my thumb pressing into his clean shaven cheek. His face had always been no-man's land to me, always. The sharp definition of his straight nose; the dark brow, and bright eyes. This close, all his freckles were clearly defined, scattered like stars along the blanket of his nose and cheeks, the blush below them hot and scarlet. His skin was just as I'd always thought. Rough, but clean, smelling of aftershave and a thick musk that I could not help but drink in. I knew Dean was handsome. Most people did. But here, to me, he was beyond that simplicity. He was a creation of God's own personal handiwork.

His return was still hesitant. Needy, but hesitant. He still would not put hands on me - not stable enough - but his lips knew what they wanted. If not for my own need, I would be floundering. How do people do this constantly? I feel as if I'd slip, ruin it somehow. Maybe then it would make this moment less unbearable for both of us. But I couldn't willingly mess this up. It was so savoring, and invigorating. It was like licking a live wire. His every warm reaction to my action made my heart flutter a little more, just the idea itself filling it to the point of bursting. At one point it was so over-full; and it kept filling and filling, with more added in every time he reached for me again. I felt like I would shatter my vessel if I continued and yet could not stop. But it was like this both times, and so I paid it no heed. I sank into him, and he gave in yet again, letting his fever rule him.

I drew back to let him breathe, and between us, the air beat with his heart and felt like it was stammering. It was very attractive how his body reacted – eyes dilating, breath quickening, heart taking off into the sky. Blush reddened the tips of his ears. He got up abruptly and walked away then, kicking off his boots and tossing his jacket aside. I am unsure why, but then he went to his phone and ordered take-out - which was even stranger – and paced the floor while I sat deep in brooding thought.

When he was done he tossed the phone aside and came back. He held out his hand, telling me to follow him, and sat back on the bed, propped up against the pillows. I was unsure what to do, but when I began to draw closer he grabbed me and guided me to lay on my back beside him, a head below where he was. I curled up shyly, using my jacket as a shell, but he was not as hesitant. He drew me against his side, his arm around my shoulders, and I stared up at him. His hand rested against my collar, his palm hot; his other hand rested on his rising and falling belly. He was in a simple cotton t-shirt in a dark color, his necklace lying motionless against his heaving chest. He smiled wearily back at me and I lowered my eyes, looking down at the points of my shoes on top of the twist of the comforter. His soft upper arm became my headrest. Soon I had relaxed a bit more, his warm form pressed up against mine, his scent filling my head. It was like a home had been make-shifted. A 'Dean home,' just for me.

He had already relaxed beside me. His fingers curled loosely on my collar, inches from my throat, and his breathing evened out. He was asleep so quickly. I shut my own eyes and tried to imagine what it would be like to sleep. Drift away, entirely unprotected, beside someone you're so utterly comfortable with. Someone you care for so completely. A deep, warm sigh emanated from my chest. This must be what peace feels like.