Chapter Eleven

Hello and sorry for the unusually long wait! I've been writing a fic as a birthday present for one of my friends this last week and sadly didn't have time to continue this as well while working on that. But I'm happy to report that her birthday is tomorrow and I shall return to this as my main project again! Wahoo. To make up for the waiting time I decided to...split the chapter, once again. I know, I know. I do this a lot. But even though that makes the chapter shorter than I planned, it also means I can post sooner! So still a win for you guys, I hope!

But enough rambling, I hope you like the way our boys are progressing, slow as it may be...

And as I promised last time, prepare for more kissing time ahead!

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Dean didn't need to be asked twice. They came together in the middle, Cas meeting him halfway, and Dean cautiously started to move his lips a bit more against the angel's, delighted when he felt Cas respond. He was hesitant and clearly unpracticed, but the longer the kiss lasted, the more Dean could feel him melting into the contact, his body relaxing, the tension seeping out of his shoulders. Neither tried to deepen the kiss, content with just letting their lips press together, finding a rhythm, getting in sync. And no, there were no fireworks, but the deep feeling of calm and peace that settled in his chest upon having Cas release a sigh of contentment against his lips was better than anything he could have wished for. He dared to bring his hands up to tenderly frame Cas' face, tilting his head slightly so they could slot their mouths even more tightly together. Cas let him, curling fingers into Dean's shirt to pull im closer.

It seemed like an eternity until they finally broke apart with the need for air, and Dean had to smile over the way Cas was chasing his lips when he drew back, eyes still closed. And damn, he was a vision like this. Lips slightly parted, red and kiss-swollen, his cheeks painted in a rosy blush. Dean had done that. Cas looked like that because of him, for him.

"You good?"

Dean was pretty sure to know the answer, but he wanted to ask anyway, smiling in relief when Cas opened a pair of sparkling eyes and nodded.

"That was..."

He released a breath, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile that was mirrored by Dean.

"Yeah", he agreed.

"I...ah. I wouldn't mind doing that again." Cas grinned wrily. "If...if you'd be amenable, of course."

"Cas." Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm very amenable."

"Good."

Cas' eyes flickered between Dean's lips and the mattress, as if he was contemplating if he should surge forward for a kiss again or if the promise of more had been one for the future.

"Maybe we should go to sleep now though", Dean said only slightly regretfully, feeling the exhaustion of a day well-spent tug on his tired eyes. If he was to do this for Cas, with Cas, he wanted to be fully awake, fully in control of himself and completely aware of every single second. "It was a long day."

"Yes", Cas agreed, and yet even while he said it his eyes flit down to Dean's lips again.

Dean couldn't help it. He leaned forward and placed one more soft peck on Cas' lips.

"Tomorrow", he promised, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach when Cas smiled at him.

"Good night, Dean."

"Night, Cas."

Even in his sleep, Dean couldn't keep the giddy smile from his face.

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

"Can you kiss me again?"

They had barely finished breakfast the next morning and had closed the door of Cas' (their?) room behind them when Cas blurted out the words Dean had eagerly been waiting for since...since they'd stopped kissing the previous night, really.

But he'd been prepared to wait the whole day, until the late evening at last, had prepared himself to suppress some longing glances across the bed while they read for a few hours or whatever Cas felt like today.

As it seemed, Cas felt like kissing.

This was new. Cas had never seemed quite so eager for anything else they'd done before. Dean couldn't deny that he liked it.

"S-Sure."

He could hear the surprise in his own voice, but there was an undeniably pleased under-tone he couldn't ignore either, wondering if Cas had heard, wondering if he wanted Cas to hear.

It was still a little awkward, how they tried to sit on the bed in a comfortable position, facing each other, knowing what was to come. Dean usually liked to be spontaneous about these sorts of things, but that was certainly the last thing that would work in Cas' case. Kissing in a sitting position was not ideal either, but he didn't dare suggest they lie down, didn't want to overwhelm or push Cas into something he wasn't ready for, and if it was just a change of position.

So sitting awkwardness it was.

But it only lasted until their lips met. The tiniest spark of contact, and every thought about how to hold the rest of his body flew out of Dean's mind.

Even on Cas' closed lips, Dean was sure he could taste a hint of the pancakes he'd made them, a trace of honey (Cas preferred it over syrup, a damn shame, but so undeniably Cas that Dean couldn't mind) and maybe a bit of strawberry. His eyes fluttered close of their own accord, and when Dean felt a tentative hand sneak up to his face and around his neck to wave long, elegant fingers into his hair, Dean was lost. Before he knew it, his own arm came around the angel's waist to pull him closer, a small sound of surprise escaping Cas' lips, but not a displeased one. And just for a second, he almost forgot that this wasn't real, that maybe they were here just because they wanted to, because Cas wanted him, him of all people, because he felt the same way Dean did, because he wanted- he needed- he loved-

His tongue carefully dipped out to skip over the seam of Cas' bottom lip before he knew what he was doing, lost in the dreams, the feel of him, seeking something more, something deeper. And it was only when Cas suddenly drew away, pushing against Dean's chest forcefully enough to make him snap out of the dizzy haze, that the weight of his own thoughtless action hit him as he blinked in confusion.

Because Cas was in front of him, so close, but far too far away, and his pink lips and flushed cheeks would have been the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen, were it not for the panic in his eyes, a spark of fear burning in the usually calm blue.

"S-Sorry." Cas was panting just a bit, but if it was from breathlessness or distress, Dean couldn't tell. "Sorry, I-"

"Hey, it's okay."

I'm the one who should apologize, letting myself go like that, losing control like that. Stupid idiot!

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" Dean tried, but he couldn't finish the sentence, something in his chest constricting painfully at the mere implication that any sort of contact between them could be something wrong. "It's good for you to stop when you need to", he said instead. "That's why I was asking permission in the first place."

Cas' brow furrowed.

"Asking...permission?"

"Yeah."

Cas looked confused. Did he not know what Dean meant?

"Y'know, when I...with my tongue, at your lip", Dean tried to clarify not very eloquently. "That was me asking permission. Y'know...? To...deepen the kiss?"

The blue eyes squinted at him for another moment, thoughtful, contemplating, but then the angel's face opened up in understanding.

"Oh", he breathed out. "I- I thought you'd just-"

You'd just take, Dean could hear heavily in the pause that followed. Just take what you wanted. Just force-

God, why hadn't he thought of that?

"Cas..."

"I'm sorry." Cas bit his bottom lip (and what things that did to Dean, now, with that lip already pink and kiss-swollen...), his eyes cast down guiltily. "I should have known you wouldn't just..."

"It's okay", Dean cut him off gently. "I understand."

"It's just that-" Cas shrugged apologetically, voice wavering just a bit. "I remember, when he-"

"Shh, I know." Dean reached out to place a hand on Cas' where they lay in his lap, feeling how the angel's fingers trembled slightly. "You don't have to talk about it", he assured, but Cas shook his head slightly, looked at him with those vulnerable, watery eyes that tugged at Dean's heart in a way that made his own eyes sting.

"It was...awful", Cas whispered then, almost too quiet for Dean to hear, his hand clenching around Dean's. "Disgusting. And I couldn't- He just..."

"I'd never force you, Cas." Dean couldn't not say it. Even if he was sure that Cas knew. God, he hoped that Cas knew. Cas had to know. "You know that, right?"

To his relief, the angel managed to give him a wavy smile.

"Yes. Sometimes I just...my body forgets."

Dean nodded in understanding.

"We can try again, if you still want to", Cas offered, but there was too much hesitation, too much insecurity in his voice for Dean's liking. He wouldn't let Cas push himself, and certainly not because he thought Dean wanted him to. So he shook his head.

"Cas, it's fine, we don't have to."

He kept his voice soft and soothing, but to his surprise, there was no relief in Cas' eyes, not only relief anyway, but also a bit of...disappointment? Rejection, Dean realized. This was Cas thinking Dean didn't want to kiss him anymore.

"You liked the kissing before, right?", he therefore went on, pleased about the hopeful flicker in his favourite shade of blue. "We can just keep doing that. No tongues", he added, just to be clear.

This time, he got an actual smile out of Cas.

"Oh." He nodded. "Okay. I'd like that."

It was easier this time, finding their rhythm, the glide of closed-mouthed lips, the way they tilted their heads to fit together, the little sigh of contentment that left Cas' lungs and woke butterflies in Dean's belly. He could feel as much as see the tension leaving the angel's shoulders once again, waited patiently for Cas to lead the way, giving as much as he knew Cas could take, happy to receive everything Cas would let him have in return. Dean would never take more than was willingly given, and he tried to showcase it in everything he did, from the way he taught Cas slowly how to move his lips without making him abandon the lead and control, to the way he sat still, waiting for Cas to come to him before he touched, welcoming him when Cas inched closer and closer, let hands wind around Dean's back and into his hair, melted when he let himself be held in return. It was ridiculous, but even with all the things he'd done with other people, all the things he'd imagined doing to Cas, with Cas, all the things he still wanted to do with Cas - this was so nice, so easy, so good, Dean felt like he'd be happy just kissing Cas like this for all of eternity without ever needing anything more. He felt a little moan building in his throat, and he let it escape in form of a hum against Cas' mouth, let it be swallowed by the pressure of his angel's lips against his own, smiling into the kiss when he felt Cas shiver in his arms.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, and Dean got lost in the repetitive pattern once more, but only enough to still be able to control himself, not to make the same mistake twice. And then suddenly, Dean felt Cas' tongue tentatively flicking out over his bottom lip, causing him to break away and lean back to look at him questioningly.

"Cas?"

Cas smiled shyly, and he'd surely been blushing if his cheeks weren't painted pink already.

"It's okay", he said, but if more to Dean or himself, the hunter didn't know. Still, Cas seemed sure.

"Let me", Cas whispered while leaning in again, half request, half question, and Dean had just time to nod before their lips connected again, just in case Cas needed confirmation, permission.

The next time he felt the hesitant tip of Cas' tongue, he was prepared, opening his mouth just a bit to allow Cas entrance if he wanted to. Just a suggestion, an offer.

And Cas took it.

~oOo~

Cas had known for a long time that Dean loved him.

He could feel Dean's love for him, feel it in the way his grace lit up whenever they were close, sometimes a steady stream playing around his ankles, sometimes washing over him until he felt like drowning in it was the only way he could properly breathe.

No, Cas had never doubted the existence of Dean's love. But he still doubted it was the same sort of love he felt towards Dean, doubted its manifestation. His own love, it was so strong and all-encompassing, he didn't even understand how he could contain it himself, let alone imagine anyone else feeling this towards another person. And certainly not for him. Not Dean. Not the most deserving person he had ever known.

But now, with Dean's lips moving softly against his own, with the way he cupped his face so tenderly, he could almost pretend Dean loved him too, just the way Cas loved him.

It was a strange feeling, the tentative way their tongues met for the first time, the careful dance they created, so different from everything Cas had experienced before. How often had he imagined what it would be like? And when it finally happened, it had been nothing like his dreams. Of course it hadn't. Just because it had been Dean's body didn't make it Dean. This was one of the worst things about that whole mess, the way it had overshadowed Cas' wishes and fantasies with a harsh reality that tainted every idea Cas had ever had about what physical touch between two beings was supposed to feel like.

This though, this was Dean. The protective arm around his waist, holding him sure and steady, the soft pressure of warm lips, the faint taste of bacon that lingered on his tongue. He'd been scared at first, had panicked when he'd felt that tongue about to enter his mouth, feared that it would be like he remembered, forceful and demanding, selfishly taking what it wanted.

He remembered the wet heat, sloppily licking and plunging into his mouth.

The hand forcing his jaw open.

The teeth buried into his bottom lip until they drew blood.

The pleased sounds Dean -no, Lucifer- had made while he devoured him greedily.

The whispered words in between hard presses of lips...

Isn't this what you wanted, Cas? Isn't this what you asked for?

And all the while he'd had to hold onto the thought that no, this wasn't what he had wanted at all, this had never been what he wanted, not for himself, and not for Dean either, being forced to touch him, being used just as much as Cas was himself.

Until his muscles grew tired, his voice sore, and his perception blurry, the onslaught of sensation, the mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelming his senses and slowly turning him numb, body and soul. And maybe it had been his fault, he'd thought at some point, maybe he had asked for this, with his forbidden thoughts and secret desires he hadn't been able to tame. He just wished Dean didn't have to be punished for Cas' sins as well...

But it had just been the exhaustion, the defeat speaking out of his helpless, tired brain after he'd finally surrendered. Deep down, Cas knew he didn't deserve this, was not the one to blame. Because how could it be a bad thing, the things he'd wished for and dreamed of? Even these human desires were born out of a place of love, so how could they be wrong? How could they be anything but pure?

The only thing wrong had been what had been done to both of them. The only thing wrong had been what they'd had to go through.

Everything had been wrong with that, every detail, every touch, every word, every kiss.

Dean's eyes had been wrong. His voice, his hands, even his taste.

Cas had no idea what a kiss with Dean was supposed to taste like, and still he'd known then that it was wrong.

He knew now. It was supposed to taste like this.

The flashes of hard and fast and hungry were quickly rewitten in his mind as sweet and gentle and caring. There was still a sense of hunger, but it wasn't violent greed, it was a longing that made Cas feel wanted and appreciated. He would have known there was no need to be scared, should have known that what he feared wasn't Dean. The disgust he felt when he thought back to what hadn't even deserved to be called kissing was swept away in the face of all the care and reverence every touch displayed now.

Cas couldn't get enough.

He knew this would be one of the things he carefully tucked away in his mind, all those little details he lived on, things like the way Dean's eyes lit up when he talked about something he loved, and how those little lines formed in the corners of his eyes when he smiled, and the exact constellation of his freckles. When he opened his eyes now, he could make out every whimper, count every freckle scattered on his face. Cas envisioned them at night. He couldn't see the stars from the bunker without windows, but he didn't need to. The dots painting Dean's skin were his stars, and he knew them like a seaman knew the night sky.

But Dean would never know about any of this, no matter how easy it was to imagine right now that his feelings might not be unwelcome. Cas knew better.

Even if he attempted to tell Dean the extent of his feelings for him, even if he would have managed to put it into words (which he wouldn't, there were no words in the English or any other language that would succeed to properly describe it) Dean would never be able to understand. How could any single human grasp the force of a love that was both almost painful and life-giving, how could he endure the strength of such an endless devotion, such boundless reverent affection, a love so grand and unconditional it exceeded even the limits of heavenly standards, the purest form of a giving and undemanding love imaginable. Sometimes it seemed too much even for Cas to fathom. How was Dean expected to bear it?

And Dean was a caretaker. Dean was a giver himself. The last few weeks had shown that more than clearly. Dean, beautiful, ignorant Dean, who didn't know his own worth, was selfless beyond measure, always trying to provide for those he loved. If Dean knew what Cas truly desired of him, he would never be able to live with himself, knowing it was something he couldn't give. Even if they managed to keep their friendship intact, it would never be the same, not with Dean knowing that deep down, Cas wasn't satisfied, and Dean being Dean, he would take the blame, would think it his fault. That knowledge would cast a shadow Cas could never erase.

So he could never tell him. Not to spare them the awkwardness, not to spare himself the shame of an unrequited confession. Just to spare Dean the pain of knowing that he was unable to give Cas everything he thought he needed. Speaking his truth may have been an act of freedom for Cas, but he couldn't be so selfish to take it at the cost of caging Dean instead.

But maybe he could have this. Even if just for a time. The cover of their practicing sessions gave Cas the freedom to be selfish, and that it was selfish beyond words, he was well aware. Still, he couldn't, didn't even try to stop his hands when they instinctively wound around Dean to pull him closer, seeking more contact, seeking more of this sense of right he couldn't get enough of.

When Dean followed willingly, let himself be guided without hesitation, Cas knew that this was it. He wanted this. He needed this.

Without a second thought, without breaking the kiss, he reached for the lapels of Dean's flannel and slowly began to tug it off of his shoulders.

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

Cas about to purposefully remove some layers there...;) We're gonna see how that goes in the next chapter, hehe!
As always, thank you so much for reading, yall. You're awesome.