With a wave of his hand, the trash in their laps disappeared and Cas turned the TV off. Dean was snoring softly, head resting on the angel's shoulder. In another moment, Dean's shoes were off and jacket was transferred to the chair.

"Rest well, Dean..." Cas kissed the top of his head, praying for a peaceful night. "I will watch over you."

It was about three in the morning when a jerk from Dean alerted Cas.

"Cas? Cas!" Dean's head rose from Cas' lap, his hand gripping the angel's leg tightly. He whipped his head around, tears in his eyes.

"I'm here, Dean...I'm here..." Cas dropped the book he was reading, and cupped Dean's head in his hands. "Dean, look at me. You're safe. I'm safe. We're ok..."

"We're ok..." Dean repeated, blinking. "We're ok..." He shakily grabbed Cas' wrist, making sure it was real.

Cas' thumb wiped away tears, his own tears not a concern.

"I am so sorry this keeps happening to you. I hate seeing you like this."

"This is my curse..." Dean laughs sarcastically, but it is more like a difficult exhale. "Even with you here, I can never sleep on a regular basis, and you know what? It's ok...they're just bad dreams, right?"

"What about..." Cas stopped himself.

"No...it wasn't like that..." I'm not happy, Dean Winchester. "Just a normal run of the mill..." I'm coming for you and your little angel. "But..."

Dean's eyes cut down to Cas' lips, which he was biting, as he was upset. This was not the way he imagined it would happen, but he needed reassurance. He needed something good to hold onto for the rest of the night. He leaned in and pulled Cas' face, his course hand cupping the angel's cheek so gently, as if he were a precious porcelain doll.

And he was precious to him.

Cas closed his eyes, and begged for something, to feel anything. As their lips touched, he could feel a hint of it, his desire fighting for it, the need he felt every time he looked at Dean. The man before him let out a soft moan of pleasure, it felt so good to him. He kept kissing, and Cas kept letting him, so he was not going to stop now.

"Cas?" He breathed.

"Yes, Dean?" Cas concentrated on the sensations he wanted.

"Is this ok?" Even now, he felt he needed permission.

Cas broke away for a second. "Whatever you want, Dean...as I said..."

"Ok..." Dean took a breath and kissed him again. His fingers rubbed Cas' scalp, traced his jawline, played with his ear, memorizing every part of his head.

And Cas let him, as Cas tried to do the same. He knew Dean Winchester's soul, but he wanted to know Dean right here, more than anything. He wanted all of Dean.

He wanted to feel.

"Please..." The angel begged.

"What?" Dean asked in his ear.

Cas froze.

Dean jerked away. "What's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No, Dean, you are...perfect, it's..." Cas growled in frustration. "It's me!" He shouted. At Dean's scared look, he went to correct himself. "Nononono...don't do that. Don't blame yourself. I-I, Dean, I can't feel anything! I know it's there, I can feel your presence, but I don't know how to say it because I've never had it, but I want it." He let tears fall.

Tears?

...Tears...

"Cas, hey, it's ok...I...it's ok...look at you..." Dean wiped tears away, showing it to the angel on his thumb. "These are real tears, right? That's something, isn't it?"

"Dean...I want this..." Dean felt Cas' hand grab his shoulder, that shoulder with the handprint, and he felt like he was going to pass out. "Dean?"

"Ohhhhhhh...mhm..." Dean opened his eyes, feeling like he was on a high for a second. "I'm back...what...I'm s-sorry."

Cas looked down, and rolled up Dean's sleeve. That handprint was still there, and he knew that. He had seen it in passing a few times when he accidentally found himself in the middle of Dean changing shirts off and on. But it was redder now.

"Does it hurt?"

"Hell, no!" Dean shook. "I...it feels freaking amazing..."

Cas kept his eyes on Dean as he placed a delicate finger on it, and Dean closed his eyes, holding his breath. When he took it away, Dean gasped. He tried again with his whole hand, but instead of leaving Dean alone, he kissed Dean, holding that position, holding that sensation for Dean, and when he broke free, Dean was sweating.

"Dean?"

"Could you...could you do that again?"