Hey sweeties! Is anyone here still reading this? You've been too damn quiet! XP The next chapter is near and dear to me, it's rather important for the plot in this,... so, here we go =)

Chapter 26

Raptured, Dean watched Castiel's other hand coming up as well, approaching his face while they kept smiling at each other carefully. Castiel's palm came to rest on Dean's cheek and Castiel clasped his face and pulled him down resolutely, bringing him in. Drum beats boomed inside Dean, his heart contracted. He breathed tremulously as he saw Castiel's lids fluttering shut sensually. With half-closed eyes, he regarded his lover's erotic, flushed face, overcome with desire. Dean leaned in hungrily and brought his lips to Castiel's, kissing him slowly, testing the water. Castiel felt soft and warm against him; an electric sensation coursed through Dean as he felt him respond to his kisses passionately. Soon, Castiel's hand left Dean's cheek and encompassed Dean's back of the head – he yanked Dean forward and pressed their mouths harder together. Castiel tilted his head and opened up his mouth, hot, stuttered exhales wafted straight through Dean's spread lips.

It felt like a blessing to be so near to Castiel again. Every shared, stumbling breath gave him absolution, every slippery slide of their smooth lips created a churning, warm feeling in Dean's stomach. It seemed like a cure for all the excruciating feelings Dean had to go through recently. Stunned by Castiel's vigor, Dean melted into their hard, unforgiving kisses and lifted his hands to seek for physical support as his nerves went haywire. He grabbled at Castiel's collar, rumpling the texture as he pulled Castiel closer and closer. Their hands were seeking and finding, their bodies bending down and up to come together. Before Dean realized it, his torso was hovering right over Castiel's. When they broke apart, huffing and puffing while frantic expressions dwelt in their eyes, Dean still felt Castiel's hand on the back of his skull. The black-haired man had his other arm wrapped around Dean's waist, keeping him close.

For a thoughtful moment, Dean scanned Castiel's reddened cheeks, his hazy, lust-blown eyes, his serene smile as he studied Dean in his stead. He shivered with pleasure when Castiel's fingertips fondled his short-cropped hair and moved down his sensitive neck. Castiel's soft, pink lips looked puffy through their kisses; Dean couldn't get over the satisfied, tranquil expression Castiel wore, as if everything in the world was just perfect the way it was. Dean bit down on his bottom lip, hesitating what he was supposed to do now. His gaze wandered over Castiel's lean body, splayed out seductively and loose-limbed in his bed. He didn't know if Castiel was doing it on purpose, but he was subtly writhing on the mattress, lolling in the sheets temptingly. His eyes spoke volumes, bearing a come-hither look that made Dean's mouth water with lust. Castiel's hands left Dean completely and the hunter couldn't believe his own eyes when he understood what Castiel was up to.

His heart thumped violently in his chest as he observed the slender, nimble fingers coming down on Castiel's heaving chest. They slid down the clothed ribcage, the slender sides and the narrow waist while Dean's eyes switched between Castiel's dilated ones and the working hands. He gulped heavily when the fingers traveled to the hem of the shirt and pushed it up slowly, revealing a taut stomach and slightly tanned skin. Dean yearned to kiss the protruding ribs and the sharp hipbones, but somehow, he was too hypnotized by the fingertips drawing small circles on the supple flesh. One of Castiel's hands curled around the bulge in his slacks, cupping it with a firm grip. Soft, gasped moans escaped Castiel and he threw his head back, carried away with buzz. Dean felt a hot blush tinting his cheeks and diffusing up to his ears. Unearthly heights of pleasure built up in him as he watched the other man stroking himself right in front of him – one hand right on his hardening crotch, the other playing with one nipple under the rucked up shirt. They exchanged heated glances.

Dean felt a surge of enthralling, sexual appetite swash over him as Castiel's hand slid under his slacks and obviously encircled his aroused length. Dean saw he was squeezing his member, and his lids were so burdened with lust, he could only regard Dean through narrowed slits. His mouth was opened to a silent "oh", his lips were trembling with suppressed want as he fondled his dick carefully. Ragged breaths fled repeatedly from those sinful lips. Dean sensed his own dick reacted fiercely to the given display, hot blood pumped through his veins and hardened him rigorously as he kept kneeling next to Castiel. His lover looked down and smiled peacefully when he recognized Dean's jeans tenting uncomfortably due to his erection. He stopped touching himself and grabbed Dean by the shoulders resolutely, bringing him nearer. Their heated, wet breaths collided and Dean moaned quietly, wanting nothing more than to merge with Castiel once more.

"Come," Castiel whispered, suffocated with various emotions – then he pulled Dean slowly but unquestionably on top of him; spreading his legs wide open so that Dean could slip in between them. Their pelvises crashed together as Dean pressed down, rubbing their hard lengths together. Castiel's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he arched his hips up to meet Dean's cock. It created wonderful friction, and Dean found, there was no going back now – he needed Castiel. He needed to feel his heat closing in on him, squeezing him and milking him to his long overdue orgasm. He inclined his head and brought his mouth to Castiel's neck, kissing and nibbling at his pulse point sensually; he let his tongue come out and lick over the fine line of his collarbone, leaving bites and bruises, while his hands encompassed Castiel's narrow hips. They were stuttering and bucking up against his, and Dean answered to every thrust with one of his own, dry humping Castiel slowly but surely deeper and deeper into the mattress.

Castiel whimpered and writhed eagerly under Dean, spreading his legs further and bringing his arms around Dean, inviting him trustfully in. Dean felt as if he was caught in a dream – he watched himself sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head. Castiel's eyes were burning with love and passion as he studied Dean's torso quietly, taking in the sight. Dean felt nothing but loved and appreciated, and God, how had he missed that sentiment. Before he could pay attention to his jeans, Castiel's fingers had fled to their waistband, yanking the buttons open with nervous determination. Dean leaned down over Castiel and let his lover slide the offending texture over his butt and down his thighs, then Castiel pushed down his boxer shorts with slow, sensual movements – the tiniest smirk came to his kiss-wet, swollen lips as Dean's hard cock was being released. Dean didn't have to look down to know he was already leaking with precome, he felt the prominent vein on his upper side pulsating with blood, he was so hard. A careful thumb of Castiel spread the pearl of slick liquid over the vulnerable, reddened head of his cock, and Dean regarded Castiel's pupils dilating more and more.

Thrills of ecstasy overwhelmed him when he tilted his head down and kissed Castiel with all he had. Their tongues tangled with each other slowly, and electric strokes dragged the air out of Dean's lungs. His whole body tingled with nervousness and lust, he couldn't help but rut his hips subtly against Castiel's, bringing their erections together. Their kisses became sloppy and desperate, and Castiel whimpered into them high-pitched and fumbled for his own slacks, trying to open them while he kept panting into Dean's mouth erratically. Blindly, Dean shooed his hands away and started unbuttoning the fly front with as much concentration as he could muster. Castiel retreated his head a bit, his teeth tugged at Dean's bottom lip playfully. Inflammable desire licked with aching flames at the bottom of Dean's spine – he could have come already thanks to Castiel's enticing body reacting to his. He devoted himself to nibbling at his partner's pecs, sucking the hardened bud of his nipple into his mouth, lavishing it with a cheeky tongue play and scraping teeth. Once more, he had Castiel squirming underneath him and raising his hips, unmistakably signaling Dean he needed more.

He pulled Castiel's boxers and slacks down in a lithe, skilled movement, and Castiel looked nothing but gorgeous and shy when Dean slid them over his wiggling feet. For a second, Dean admired Castiel as good as naked in his bed, lying under him, his hard, long cock straining upwards on his abdomen. One bold hand of Castiel stroked the inner side of his left thigh, and Dean silently studied the fingers moving lower and lower, disappearing under his balls. He felt the violent jerk of his erection as it hardened even more when Castiel assumingly dared to let one finger slide into his hot, narrow hole. Dean watched him hoisting his ass so that he could touch himself deeper. A concentrated frown veiled Castiel's features, he had his lids closed and his mouth opened to a mute scream. Dean could faintly recognize how Castiel added a second finger, stretching himself with small rotations of his hips. Dean's heart was hammering by now, he felt dizzy and desperate with euphoric lust. It made his flesh crawl and a hot shiver run down his back, seeing Castiel like this – trusting him with all he had, devoting himself to this mind-blowing rapture...

He struggled to his feet and reached for his wash bag with shaky fingers, rummaging in it while he felt Castiel's pensive, blazing eyes on him. He retrieved a travel-sized package of lube and a condom, looking over his shoulder to estimate Castiel's earnestness. He didn't want to exploit him or go further than the other man was ready for, but Castiel nodded subtly and took the items out of Dean's hand. Dean smiled melancholically when Castiel opened the wrapper of the condom with his teeth, then he unrolled it over Dean's twitching, upstanding erection skillfully while Dean stood in front of the bed. He looked down at Castiel while the other looked up, a sentimental smile tugging at his lips. Something more than carnal desire clouded the beautiful, blue eyes, and Dean had to cup his lover's face tenderly, letting his thumb stroke over his cheek and jaw. Castiel sighed and let his eyes shut, he leaned forward and kissed Dean's belly and waist with open-mouthed, careful kisses. His hands must have opened the lube, for Dean felt them rubbing it over his prepared erection, spreading it generously with a tight fist. His legs turned to jelly with each hard stroke and he heard himself gasp and moan lewdly, his body dying for his climax.

He was fraught with tension when Castiel's hands vanished and when Castiel shifted on the bed so that Dean could lay down again. He followed the invitation and lowered himself to his side, watching Castiel mirroring the position, so that they were face to face. Dean let his hand skim over the lean side, admiring the pearls of sweat on Castiel's temple and the spaced out expression in his eyes as he breathed laboredly. As if by magic, they bent their heads simultaneously and their lips brushed over one another, suddenly with caution and a tenderness that spoke volumes. This wasn't only about physical pleasure anymore, Dean realized that soon. Castiel kissed him with an almost aching hunger and melted against him utterly, as Dean dared to let his hand glide lower, fondling the curve of Castiel's spine and the firm muscles of his round ass. Castiel tensed up and whined into their kisses when Dean's forefinger pushed forward and into his puckered, stretched hole, delving into the scorching heat. God, how Castiel's muscles closed in on him, keeping him in place unyieldingly. His cock jerked at the mere thought to be buried in him again. Subconsciously, he brought his middle finger to the quavering hole and Castiel's forehead bumped against his when he shoved it inside with one slow, resolute thrust.

Castiel's nibbled mindlessly at Dean's bottom lip and sucked it greedily into his mouth when Dean rotated his fingers, bringing the final and third one into his lover with a sudden fierceness. Castiel raised his leg so that Dean could give it to him in a better angle – he was filled with joy when Castiel tensed with a surprised moan as Dean touched his sweat spot, pressing his fingertips against it unforgivingly. He was vibrating and wincing with pleasure, becoming absolutely lax and lust-driven next to Dean. It was the last barrier Dean had wanted to see removed; gently, he withdrew his fingers and pressed Castiel down as he touched one of his shoulders. Castiel was sweating, his flesh looked rosy and heated, and his face was glowing with an unspoken mirth as a small smile beautified his features. He wrapped his legs around Dean's waist and folded his arms around Dean's neck; Dean positioned himself and breached Castiel's entry with a slow, restrained movement, filling him up. He marveled at the initial tightness and how hot and tender Castiel felt around him as Dean split him up with his rock-hard cock.

Castiel threw his head from one side to the other as Dean was buried deep inside of him; by instinct, he picked up a slow rhythm and thrust into the widened hole with force, leaving an impression of himself in Castiel's tunnel. Somehow, his befuddled mind thought, if he pressed forward as deep as he could, he could brand the memory of him into Castiel's being, so that he would never forgive him, so that Castiel would always be marked as his. It was a selfish thought, but Castiel seemed to enjoy Dean penetrating him so vigorously and slamming his hips forward – soon, Castiel arched his back and rode each and every one of Dean's thrusts, taking him in and welcoming him inside as if he never wanted Dean to leave either. They were coming together and melting to an unity, bodies and minds becoming nothing more than a shallow nothingness. When Dean stared into Castiel's eyes, they were drowning in each other, and Dean felt light, disembodied, as if he was flying. He was spiked with delight rushing through him, he felt his orgasm building up inside him. He was partly afraid of its intensity, for he reckoned it would probably devastate him, but he couldn't restrain himself any longer.

The way Castiel's thighs clenched around him... how his cheeks and chest were plunged into a deep red, the blush spreading over his body like a wildfire... How his eyes rolled into the back of his head as he choked on his own, moaned breaths... The first convulsions shook Castiel's body, Dean felt him narrow around him. At long last, a divine, sobbed moan left the dark-haired man and he tensed up and lolled in the sheets by turns. He rotated his hips and Dean fucked him hard and fast; Castiel's fingernails dug into Dean's flesh and left bruises and scratches there. Then, white streams of come spurt out of Castiel's throbbing cock and painted his abdomen and stomach. He sighed and moaned lengthily as he gave in to his orgasm taking over his body. Dean shuddered uncontrollably when the hot waves of his climax licked at the bottom of his spine; his hips snapped forward and he glided a few more times into the depths of his lover trembling around his cock. Looking exhausted but satisfied, Castiel opened his eyes and regarded Dean with a loveable smile. His glance was heavy with meaning, a thousand unspoken confessions and love declarations wafted between them through the air. It was the moment when Castiel placed a gentle hand on Dean's cheek and let his thumb stroke over his jaw, when Dean came hard and collapsed on top of him.

He trashed around on the leaner body as wave after wave seized him mercilessly, a tumult of emotions and sensual pleasure rioted within him. Castiel's arms and legs came around him and kept him in place, deeply shed inside of him. They were both panting and humming, indulging in the aftermath of their heights.

…

A few minutes later, they lay collected and comfortably beside each other on the narrow bed. Castiel lay in Dean's arm, and the calloused fingertips of this arm stroked over Castiel's smooth shoulder tenderly, drawing idle and insignificant patterns. They both lay on their backs and stared at the ceiling pensively – its white hue changed gradually into a dim, ashen color as the night found its way into the silent room. It was most appreciated to feel Castiel's warmth and his naked body pressing against his side again, Dean thought, and he savored the moment inwardly. Only blurry thoughts crossed his mind, that they may have made a mistake, getting involved with the other again... but it had felt so right, so good... And right now, Dean still felt no guilt pangs. For the first time in days he felt peaceful and satisfied; nothing seemed that severe or insoluble when Castiel was around him.

Their bodies heated up quickly as their torsos were intimately sandwiched, and Dean smiled to himself happily as he detected the slight layer of sweat blanketing his body. Finally, he felt soothing warmth coursing through his limbs again – for too long, bitter cold had dwelt in his insides; Castiel thawed all the emotional frost and left nothing but nursing, gentle heat. He squeezed his lover mildly in his arm, enjoying how his smooth, black hair brushed over his collar bone as Castiel moved even closer. They didn't need words. Dean sighed when Castiel wrapped his arm around Dean's middle and snuggled up to him. His breaths fanned against Dean's pecs, and slowly but surely, he was lulled in by their constant singsong. It was the most relaxing thing he could think of... His eyes sank with each in- and exhale. Their bodies surged and fell together, until it appeared that they were one being, they were breathing so in tune to one another. Dean's heart clenched with sweet rapture when Castiel's fingernails dug into his side and held him firmly, as if he wanted to make sure the other would never leave him again.

"Can I stay?" Castiel mumbled against Dean's breath-bedewed skin sleepily, and Dean nodded, and added a hoarse, whispered "Yeah". He was sure he could feel the affectionate smile of Castiel's plump, adorable lips moving against his chest. It didn't take long, five minutes at the maximum, and they both fell into a deep slumber. They had been bereaved of a sound sleep rhythm ever since their breakup, so their bodies were glad to receive what their minds and hearts had denied them for days.

With his hazy, infatuated brain, Dean felt a last thought wander through him, and it made him smile gently: In this moment, here in the bluish, tranquil room... huddled up to one another trustfully and most heartfelt, in this moment they were infinite, and no one could take that away from them. Here, they would always be a couple of lovers, no matter what happened after this.

…

Around the time in which the night slowly altered into an early morning and in which the sky lightened to a pale blue, Castiel woke up to go to the bathroom. Dean was stirring from his slumber too, for he missed the cozy warmth of his lover's body next to him. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, realizing he was wonderfully rested. Castiel emerged from the bathroom, wearing his now crumpled shirt and his boxer shorts again. He strolled to the bed with a hearty yawn, then he stretched himself and smiled at Dean gently. They shared a silent, affectionate glance in the crepuscular light. Dean marveled at his partner, he found no fitting words to express how happy he was to be near him again. He watched Castiel folding back the duvet and crawling into the bed again. In the dark, Dean studied the mop of Castiel's hair so close in front of him, as Castiel turned around to face away from him.

It felt as natural as breathing to wrap his arm around Castiel's middle and to snuggle up to him. Immediately, he sensed some sort of tension leaving Castiel's body, he was downright melting and becoming lax in Dean's sleepy embrace. Heat spread between them easily as they were spooning, their bodies tightly entangled. Dean rested his forehead against the middle of Castiel's shoulder blades, deeply inhaling his calming, wonderful scent. He felt so peaceful in this second, as close to Castiel as possible. His lids fell shut without further ado and he squeezed the ripped body and held him firmly in his arm, refusing to ever let him go again. It didn't take long and they were dozing off again, not caring about responsibilities or pressing obligations.

…

Around six thirty in the morning, a loud, sudden thump aroused them from their sleep. Confused, Dean withdrew a little from Castiel's heated frame – he raised his bleary head and blinked to sharpen his vision, searching for the source of the noise. Castiel was awake as well, and they stared at Sam staggering in the room, dangerously about to lose his balance. He had stormed through the door unquietly, and had therefore woken them up. Now he was staring at them with an enraged mask of fury, not saying a single thing. Dean's heart missed a beat as he realized Sam was completely sloshed. Had he drunk all night long? Something was badly wrong with Sam, and it upset Dean to see him this way. What the hell had happened to him?

He sat up with a careful motion, holding on to the blanket covering his nudity – the manner in which Sam's blazing eyes were darting over his naked torso made Dean understand Sam had seen enough to put one and one together. He was glaring at Castiel and Dean by turns, his mouth snapping at something to say. Finally, he raised an accusing forefinger at Dean, swaying to and fro in his alcohol stupor.

"I thought you said you broke up? Were you lying to me, Dean? Is that what you are now, a liar?" he slurred, sounding somehow desperate. Dean frowned. He recognized this had nothing to do with whatever it was that was bugging Sam. He didn't even dare to turn his head to face Castiel, he was afraid Sam might snap any second. He hated seeing Sam like this, it reminded him too much of John in his weak moments.

"What is your problem, Sam? Why are you drunk?" he asked calmly, lifting one open palm as a soothing gesture. Sam decided to pace up and down restlessly in the small room, his shoulders rigid and hunched with worries.

"You know, I'm sick and tired of this shit! What do the demons want from me? What makes me so special that they're interested in me? I just want to be normal! I want to be left alone! And you know what? I've had it up to here to wait for you coming up with a safe, clever plan. I need answers, Dean, and I need them now!" Sam exploded, looking at Dean with feverish, frantic eyes as he kept pacing with his long legs. He ran a nervous hand through his brunette hair, biting on his lower lip exasperatedly. He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and studied Dean determinately.

"I'll drive to the devil's gate and see if I can find a demon giving me answers to my questions. I'll somehow make a trap and interrogate them. And I don't need your help or any other help – I'll do it all by myself!" he spat, wobbling slightly on his feet. Dean grabbed a handful of the blanket in a tight fist, feeling his jaw clenching in anxiety. This was madness! Sam couldn't mean that!

"Have you lost your mind?" he yelled back, his whole upper body tensing up. "You don't have back-up, you don't even have some sort of leverage! What makes you think you can accomplish that, huh? Look at you, you're as drunk as a skunk! Even if you managed to draw a devil's trap and catch a demon – why would they give you any answers?"

For once, Dean wanted to slap Sam right in the face. How could he be so childish and irrational? Didn't he trust Dean to watch out for him? Just because he had fallen in love with Castiel didn't mean he couldn't protect Sam as always.

"I have some leverage, don't you worry. They have plans for me? Fine! Bet they don't want to hurt me then – I am the only leverage I need, Dean!"

With that being said, Sam turned on his heel and hastened out of the door. Dean knew he couldn't compete with Sam running away from him, certainly not with his bad leg – Sam could be quick when he wanted to, so Dean found he couldn't do anything but call his name. His troubled, infuriated "Sam!" echoed through the corridors several times, while he still sat in bed, useless and at his wits' end. His eyes fled to Castiel, who stumbled out of the bed swiftly, aiming for the door. He exchanged a sympathetic, brief look with Dean.

"I'll go after him and try to reason with him!" Castiel gasped, and Dean nodded with a grateful smile.

Then Castiel disappeared too and Dean heard his bare feet slapping on the linoleum covered floor, getting further and further away. He scrambled to his feet and searched for his boxer shorts. He donned himself rapidly – his jeans, socks, a black T-shirt and a plaid, long-sleeved shirt. He felt the grim, thoughtful mien he was wearing on his face as he tried to find a solution for this awful situation. Sam had become insane, that much was certain. If he really walked the talk, he would take the Impala to the devil's gate. How was Dean supposed to reach him in time and convince him he was acting stupidly? Maybe he was right, and the demons wouldn't want to hurt him – but that didn't mean they couldn't abduct him or use him for their intentions! He was handing himself to them on a silver platter mindlessly!

It was the moment when he was tying his boots when Castiel returned, breathless with running. Dean looked up expectantly, but Castiel was just shaking his head sadly.

"Couldn't get him. Saw him driving away, too late," he panted. Dean got up and clicked his tongue, racking his brain for a way out. Castiel's hand suddenly landed on Dean's shoulder, squeezing it mildly. He perceived his lover bowing his head and searching for Dean's eyes attentively. When their eyes met, Dean saw the tiniest smile beautifying Castiel's kissable mouth, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to smile too.

"What are we doing now?" Castiel asked – then he let go and reached for his own clothes, putting them on hectically while he kept looking at Dean. The hunter knew he was running out of options with each passing second, Sam already had a time-wise advantage. He really didn't want to drag Castiel into this whole chaos.

"I need a car to follow him. He's heading a few miles out of town. I can still remember the route...," he mumbled, without uttering any commitment he expected from the other man. Castiel slipped into his sneakers and put on his navy blue cardigan.

"I'll get my car and pick you up in ten minutes at the front entrance, alright?" he offered quite naturally, already making for the door. Dean grabbed him by the upper arm and hindered him. He felt melancholy reaching out for him and enveloping him as he studied Castiel smiling serenely and self-confidently at him as they studied each other, raw and honestly. How he had tried to avoid this life devouring Castiel as well, and now he was falling into it despite Dean's futile attempts.

"What are you doing, Cas?" he rasped softly. His heart was overflowing with the loyalty and help Castiel was presenting him. Did he know what he was getting himself into? Castiel smirked unfazed, mirth dancing in his eyes.

"Making myself useful," he retorted. Then he leaned in and kissed Dean's cheek sweetly, letting his lips linger sensually on Dean's skin, so that he felt the warm puffs of his breaths colliding with his skin. When Castiel pulled back, his cheeks were flushed and his lids heavy with lust – it seemed they both remembered the last erotic night they had spent together. He moved a step forward and brushed his lips over Dean's carefully, his eyes never releasing Dean's from his intense regard. He applied a fine amount of pressure to kiss Dean, and Dean felt his heart flutter excitedly as he responded to the short, passionate kiss. Vividness and something akin to happiness appeared in Castiel's blue irises as he withdrew at last.

"We're not done yet" he said with a grin, then he winked at Dean and left the room.

…

Castiel was speeding down the road, torturing the Toyota and using all of its horsepower. Dean's eyes often traveled to the other man, examining the resolute expression of his fine face. His blue gems were fixed on the path and sometimes Dean gave directions, but all in all, it was awkwardly silent in the car. Dean tried to keep it together, he was on the verge of cursing repeatedly about Sam. He really hoped they could make it there in time, Sam had already twenty minutes advantage. Once they left the town behind them, Castiel geared up and ignored the speed limit, the car roared loudly. Dean was itching to talk with him about the last night, if only to distract himself from the current mess they were caught in. He knew he would never find peace again if he didn't know Castiel's motives, so he ended the silence.

"Uhm, Cas... I gotta ask. Why did you come to my room yesterday?" he questioned bluntly. Castiel's mouth fell open in surprise and he considered Dean with a fleeting, flustered side glance. Dean thought he could actually see him tense up, how the muscles of his upper arms protruded as his fingers held the steering wheel tighter. For a while, he thought Castiel wasn't going to answer him, because he adamantly focused on the road again and stayed quiet. Pain corded up Dean's throat, it hurt to think they were back to the former, distant behavior around one another. He gulped heavily against the aching lump. Had he overstepped the mark? Maybe last night had been nothing more than a revived passion they had now outlived. Then, thankfully, Castiel made up his mind and opened up to Dean.

"I missed you. That's why. I figured I didn't care about my dignity anymore, at least not when it comes to you. I knew you were going to leave soon, and I thought I'd offer you to be with each other, at least for the remaining days. I rather wanted to have you for a short period of time if I couldn't have you at all. But you weren't there, and I was dog-tired... your scent lulled me to sleep. And that's how you found me."

Castiel's voice was quiet and contemplative, a fond spark gleamed in his eyes. He even smiled tenderly as the memories seeped through his mind. Affection pumped through Dean's heart, he was deeply moved by Castiel's explanation. He comprehended how much he meant to the other man, that he had left such an impression on him that Castiel rather sacrificed his morals than living without him – even if only for a few days. Absent in mind, Dean grasped the hand Castiel had laid on the gear shift, squeezing his slender fingers gently.

He wanted to tell him that he had missed him too, and that he was almost delirious with joy about their reunion – but his face fell as he realized Castiel's smile became melancholic and that bitter tears were welling in his eyes. His hand felt mechanic and lifeless in Dean's, he wasn't responding to his gentle pressure at all.

"I guess I was wrong, Dean. Guess I was holding on to a pipe dream. I was misled to believe I mattered to you. When I offered you to come with you, I meant it, really. But you don't even want me to join you, do you? I never meant to force myself on you, and I'm sorry if I got carried away. Didn't want to put you in an awkward situation," he said quietly, his voice sounded choked with emotions. Dean's jaw dropped, he just couldn't trust his ears anymore! Did Castiel really think that? Sorrow veiled Dean's mind, and he was struck hard by Castiel's stern face. He looked fierce and impossibly sad, a single tear streamed down his cheek, and Dean imploded. He held Castiel's hand with a firm grip, never letting his eyes drift away from his partner.

"Trust me, I want you to come with us. I really do. And you matter a frigging lot to me. I just don't want to drag you into more dangerous situations like these! Do you understand that?" he asked softy, consideration in each of his words. Castiel sniffled and nodded, with his other forearm he wiped over his tear-stained face, then he laughed nervously. Dean knew he needed to concentrate on the road ahead, but they both couldn't resist to regard one another with a loveable glance, and this time, Castiel's fingers encompassed Dean's too and returned the squeeze confirmatively. Dean smiled reassured; Castiel turned his head and focused on the street again.

"I hope you know what you're blundering into, man. We've got to make a plan or something. So, uh... listen. When we get there, there will be demons. A lot of them. You know, they'll look like humans, but trust me, they won't break that easily. Sam has lost his mind, it's a desperate, bone-headed move he's attempting. I fear it will most probably end in blood and tears. I've got to burn a devil's trap into the ground, we should have a flamethrower in my car's trunk. If that won't work, hell, I'll dig the symbol with a shovel! It will keep the demons at bay, they can't pass the lines I drew. You will have to help Sam somehow to keep the demons out of your hair. I will beat every son of a bitch while I can, but the devil's trap has total priority. We can only save our asses once I finished it. Got that?"

Castiel nodded eagerly, though he appeared a bit breathless because of the taken in mass of information.

"Is there a way we can kill those demons?" he wanted to know, his blue eyes containing a wild harshness. Dean feared he was seeking for revenge for what that one demon had done to him. Revenge wasn't the most dignified purpose, but it would work. It would make Castiel fast and bursting with adrenaline. Dean just hoped everything would turn out well, for all of them.

"None that we know of or have adequate means for. We could always exorcise them, but I think it's better to imprison them in a deserted area than letting them loose into civilized country where we can't get our hands on them, don't you think?"

"Alright, I understand," Castiel said, and once more, tense silence filled the small car's interior. Dean gave directions a few times, listening to both their psyched up, accelerated breathing. No more than five minutes and they would be there. He glanced over at Castiel, watching him twisting his plump lower lip between his teeth.

"Are you nervous?" he asked mindlessly, the words slipped away from him before he could stop them. With his right hand, Dean pointed at the sideway, their final destination, and Castiel turned off from the main road. The Impala was parked a few meters ahead of them – no one was in sight. Castiel shut off the engine and smiled tentatively at Dean, looking deeply into his eyes, so that Dean felt all breathless and flustered.

"No. For the first time in a long time, it feels like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. It's a good feeling."

Dean was a bit startled when Castiel approached him, grabbed his head and kissed his lips, hard but briefly. They merged with each other when they shared a deep, passionate kiss, giving and taking as much as they could in the ephemeral moment they had allowed each other. Dean's belly was tingling with anticipation and euphoria, but when they broke apart, he saw the adrenaline dilating Castiel's eyes, and grimness possessed him unyieldingly. They got out of the car.

No one seemed nearby, so he walked straight to the Impala and opened its trunk. He detected the shovel was already missing, as was the flamethrower. The pebbles scrunched under Castiel's shoes as he followed Dean to the parked car. Without speaking, Dean handed him a battle ax and a knife, and Castiel accepted the weapons with a subtle nod. The hunter wandered off to the hell's gate; he felt Castiel's presence behind him as they crept through the undergrowth. Small branchlets crackled under their feet, old, dried leaves rustled treacherously. Once more, it was strangely quiet – no birds chirped, not even the wind stroked through the trees.

They came closer to the clearing, and now speaking voices were audible – a muffled groan reached Dean's ears. He was sure it was Sam. He halted behind a thick tree trunk and dragged Castiel with him. Then he bent his head and peeped at the clearing. Approximately twenty demons were gathered there; their attention was solely focused on Sam, who was kneeling in the middle of them. A buff, nasty guy, wearing a deep frown, held him in an arm lock and forced him to look up at the possessed woman, who was seemingly interrogating him. Even from afar, Dean recognized the innumerable bruises on Sam's face, he looked the worse for wear. Damn it. He knew this was going to happen.

Dean let his gaze wander – on the ground, he detected a half finished, burnt in devil's trap, the flamethrower lay on the grass, forgotten by all of them. He looked back at Castiel, feigning an encouraging smile.

"Here we go," he whispered, then he ran off, as best as he could with his healing leg. He heard Castiel running beside him, and exhilaration expanded in his chest, knowing he wasn't alone in this, that Castiel lent him his support. The demons swung around abruptly, the first started running square towards them with foaming, growling mouths. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean witnessed Castiel raising the ax skillfully, then he stroked a hard blow. The next second, a gush of blood darkened the meadow, a beheaded demon lay there, still trashing around. Dean stared at Castiel, who held the blood-besmeared weapon in his hands, panting with bloodlust. Alright, so maybe he had really underestimated him.

"Okay, you can handle this," he quipped, marveling at the proud grin Castiel gave him.

Then two demons lunged at Dean, and he had to fight for his life – he was dealing blows, giving headbutts, kicking and struggling with all he had. Somewhere in that mess, he heard Sam calling out for him. He had to reach the damn flamethrower and finish the devil's trap; they couldn't fight like this forever. He had a tiny second to glance around, and he saw Castiel injuring the demons, stabbing them and kicking them mercilessly. Sam had somehow managed to get to his feet as well, and now he and Castiel were fighting together, back to back, circling around their offenders with raised fists. Hadn't the circumstances been that severe, Dean would have laughed at their sudden team spirit. For a befogged moment, Dean thought the two of them appeared divine, like two archangels soaked in blood, covering their enemies with wrath and gruesomeness. They brought righteousness, even if their lives were on the line. In that moment, a ray of light struggled through the clouds and enlightened the fighters, and Dean's heart convulsed as he realized how much he loved the two of them, what he was willing to do for them.

Only five demons were left on his side, the majority of them found pleasure in attacking the bold other two. Dean noticed a gap between his foes, and he starting running, aiming for the flamethrower.

TBC

Hah, omg, another cliffhanger, forgive me! Well, if you want to brighten my mood, my days, my life – leave me a review and let me know what you think! Smooch smooch 8D (btw, I was so happy to write this chapter and let them come back together again!)