Cas moved slowly in his arms. So slowly he thought he may have been imagining it. So slowly it was as if he debated each delicate movement before following through. As if he had to think to make sure he wanted to rest his palm on Dean's stubbled cheek, or pull away just enough to lock gazes. Uncertain blues and steadfast greens. Dean's breath hitched in his throat, so close he could feel the gentle warmth of Cas' breath across his lips. And then-

Eyes wide, Dean's brain took a half second to catch up to Cas pressed against him, chapped lips soft, tentative, beneath his. Once he caught up, however, the moment gripped him hard and tugged him under the sea of everything that was Castiel and nothing else mattered. His own mouth softened, plump lips parting ever so slightly as lids fluttered to suffocate vibrant greens and let him focus completely on the man in his arms.

It was nothing he'd ever felt with Lisa, chagrined as he was to admit it. Even when they were young and excited, high on life and sticking it to the man, it never felt quite this raw. So full of life and adoration, he could feel the particles clinging to the air. He could smell the faint undertones of aftershave on his receptionist's jaw, the sharp eucalyptus scent of his shampoo, both stronger than the millions of people currently inhabiting the city around him. The sound of blood in his ears drowned out the sounds of the city, and it was just him and Cas, high on a cloud without a care.

The warmth that encompassed him moved, only noticeable by how the tip of his nose straightened out from where it had been crushed against Cas' cheek in his attempt to get as close as physically possible and the dropping of the hand from his face. He opened his eyes slowly, lips still buzzing with the feeling of the man before him, the taste, the touch, so sweet it was nearly sickening. He was nearly breathless, taking note of the way Cas' thick lips were parted just as his were, eyes slightly darker, but… Nervous.

Dean was greedy, he was toxic, and he stepped forward to chase the warmth, uncaring of the consequences. He just wanted Cas, he needed him so badly it hurt. So badly it had hurt since that first kiss before his failed apology. He couldn't think of a single time he'd ever wanted someone that much, not even Lisa. Cas felt like home, and home was something he'd never really had.

So, he took the initiative, broad palms coming up to Cas' jaw, fingers wrapping around to nestle in his hair as he kissed him desperately, hungrily, like he was air and Dean was drowning. He kissed like tomorrow wasn't coming and the light was slowly fading. Not worth the shit on the other's shoe, he kissed as grateful as a beaten dog finally shown kindness. He kissed like he had nothing to lose and nowhere to go except this moment, and, in a way, he didn't. Like he'd been in the darkness for thirty-six goddamn years and Cas was the first ray of sunshine he'd seen when he'd exited the cave of his lifelong depression.

A soft 'oomph' from Cas followed the sudden kiss, and Dean's heart skipped as he nearly didn't reciprocate. But when he did, Dean took all that he could and then some. Before he could stop to think that Cas was a damn rape victim, he pressed him against the wall, callused hands sliding down his lithe figure, exploring every perfect centimeter, the wet sounds of their mouths moving together the only sound he could hear. To his surprise, Cas reciprocated. Tentatively at first, but his lips parted, allowing Dean entrance and inviting him to explore his mouth, which he did with vigor.

Their tongues slid together, Dean's breaths steadily growing faster, harsher, as just the simple touches against his body pressed buttons he didn't know could be pressed. A brush of fingertips over his thinly clothed ribs sent goosebumps erupting over his skin, one palm sliding around his stomach to his back sent shivers down his spine. He, himself, was hastily finding the hem of Cas' shirt, the familiar ache settling in his groin as blood rushed to the part of his body making all the decisions right then.

When he could finally feel Cas' skin – sturdier than Lisa's – he withdrew, both hands and mouth. He pulled away just enough to glance at Cas through heavy lids, heart pounding in his chest and breath puffing over thick lips. "I want you." He whispered, waiting for some kind of response. And he waited. And waited. For fourteen heartbeats he waited, but with the bobbing of his Adam's apple and a twitch of a nod, Cas agreed and he could fly.

Blindly reaching out, Dean pulled open the sliding door and took Cas' hand, coffee mug forgotten on the rail as he pulled his receptionist inside and connected their lips again. Each step toward the couch was punctuated by the sound of their lips smacking together, each slam of his heart accented by the rasp of his breath and all he could think was Cas Cas Cas like a mantra.

It was after Cas fell backwards to the couch with a soft huff of surprise that he hastily shed his clothes, never before wanting to be more rid of them than he was in that moment. He only allowed himself half a second to realize that Cas had never seen him naked, let alone with his flagpole standing proud at full attention, before he sank to his knees and slid his palms from the other's knees to the fork of his legs, all the while looking up at the sprawled man, each movement tentative as if he expected to get shoved off or told no. A single no and he would back off forever, and he hoped Cas knew that. The nod as he reached the fastenings spurred him forward and, soon enough, the gorgeous receptionist who'd saved him, who he'd saved, who he'd grown more close to than his own wife. Ex-wife.

"This okay?" He rasped, getting up to kneel between Cas' legs, palms rested on either side of his body to support his weight as he looked down at him.

"Yeah. Yes." Their lips connected again and any nervousness Dean may have felt just moments ago was lost under the tidal wave of reassurance that didn't so much roll over him as it did crash into him, gripping him by the heel and pulling him under. It was quick work to lean back on his heels and spit in his palm, getting himself slick before pushing in with a slow, controlled push. He stuttered a breath, eyes squeezing closed as Cas hitched a shocked breath beneath him.

Eyes snapping open, Dean looked down and stopped, fully sheathed inside the other. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. For the love of God, Dean, move." The growled command sent Dean into action, hips starting to move as he leaned down and kissed him again. They writhed on the couch, a mass of limbs, soft grunts and moans of pleasure, each thrust inward catching Castiel in such a way that his head rocked back against the cushions, mouth wide and eyes squeezed closed.

"Fuck, you're so tight." Dean whispered, one arm curling under Cas' head, their bodies just inches from each other as a light sweat beaded over his back from the exertion. Heat encircled him, slowly drying out with each thrust. "I should get lube for next time." He huffed a half chuckle and pulled out to reapply his spit and go back to work.

Cas didn't seem to mind. Instead, blue eyes opened and look up at him with a crooked smile that broke with parted lips and pleasure. Shadows danced around them, keeping their secrets, and air caressed their overheated bodies. He reached between them as the familiar knot in his lower abdomen tightened threatening release. He couldn't come before Cas, wouldn't allow it. So his hand moved quickly over the thick member in his hand, brushing over the tips and eliciting the sexiest series of moans he'd ever heard. "Cas… I'm gonna-" He cut himself off, not letting himself finish in either respect as he slowed his hips and worked Cas faster. "Come for me," he breathed, feeling Cas clench around him.

Knowing that was his cue, Dean groaned as he sped up his hips, continuing with his hand and matching pace with his snapping hips. It was all of ten rushed breaths before his hips stuttered and a long groan was pulled from the lowest point of his lungs, pulsing inside Cas as the other did the same in his hand, painting his own chest white with Pollock-y perfection.

He swallowed the thick lump in his throat and withdrew, kissing over Cas' neck, feeling the heat radiate around them, caught in the bubble of what they'd been through and who they were and everything he wanted to, but couldn't say.

Or maybe he could.

With a rush of what could only be post-sex stupidity, he took a deep breath and let it out. "It was you." He whispered against golden, glistening skin, his body filled with cotton balls and ears ringing in the aftermath of their workout.

He'd wanted to break in the new couch anyway, the admission had been an afterthought.

"What was me?" Cas whispered in his ear, sending another ripple of goosebumps down his body.

"I-uh…" He'd gotten that far, talked about his father and his dream and his fear of being anything but heterosexual. Might as well go the distance. Lazily rolling to his side to nestle between the back of the couch and Cas' overheated body, he rested his head on the other's chest and listened to the soft thrumming of his heart, how it sambaed with his own frantic beats. "Lisa just left me, I got fucked up and found my dad's gun. It was in my mouth, cocked, but I didn't pull the trigger. Because of you."

"What'd I do?"

Dean chuckled softly, reaching over both of them to pick up his boxers from the floor and start wiping away the gobs of spunk sprawled across Cas' chest in the pale gray hours of early morning. "You responded." He whispered, that night coming back into hazy focus behind his eyes. Drunk, alone, and so far down in the dumps he never thought he'd get out, but in a moment of weakness, he'd reached out, and it had turned out to be the best decision he'd ever made. Well, outside of starting a multi-million dollar company from absolutely nothing.

"I responded to what?"

Dean blinked and looked up, releasing the thin fabric in favor of the scratchy stubble that coated the other man's jaw. "My text, jackass." He chuckled quietly. "That night, I didn't pull the trigger because I was a coward, but I didn't try again because I had you." Yuck. Honesty tasted like cotton candy and rainbows and hearts. It was so mushy and chick flick-y it made his teeth hurt, but it needed to be said. "And, hey, I lost my gayginity because of you too." The serious and hopeful expression of his lover was replaced with a roll of eyes and a soft smirk as his head relaxed back against the arm of the couch.

"Well, I'm glad you decided life was worth living."

"Yeah. Me too." He sighed, eyes closing. Not a thought ran through his head, not a worry, it was just him and Cas and the sunrise. Tomorrow, he could possibly face the regret that the other held for letting down his defenses, or he'd end up saying something stupid. He always ended up driving people away. But in that moment, everything was perfect, and he would take it.