He stomped his boots against the hardwood floor, trying to force the warmth back into his body. The heater had gone out a few nights ago in the bunker, so Dean had to resort to bundles of blankets and dozens of layers to keep warm these winter nights.
He heard someone coming inside and slam the door, and quickly walked in the opposite direction. It was probably Sam; the last person he wanted to talk to after this last hunt. Dean had screwed up a little too hard this time, harder than he had in a while.
As he hurried to his room, he heard wings behind him where he just was, followed by voices, and let out a curse. Cas was home. That meant Sam had probably given him a call letting him know what was going on, the bastard. As much as he loved his brother he sometimes wished he'd just let Dean on his own for once instead of "having responsibilities," or whatever that meant. He hated responsibilities, and he hated himself for hating them. Hated, hated, hated-
Before he knew it he was at his room, resting his head against the emblem on the door, his hand resting on the handle. He could just take Baby out for a while, not come back for a few days. But then Cas would be worried... Or he could stay in his room until Jack came back- whenever that was...
In all reality, there were a million and one other things he'd rather be doing, things he wished he could bring himself to do, but he couldn't- he had messed up, and now it was time to fix it.
Before anyone could follow him, he went in his room and shed his multiple layers like a lizard shedding its skin. In nothing but his underwear, he cozied up under his covers, laying on his side, imagining many other things that could be going on at that moment. Then he did something stupid.
He picked up his phone beside his bed and rang up the one number he'd rather not. When he answered his heart skipped a beat, even though Dean knew he would never send him to voicemail.
"Hello, Dean." Cas' voice rang, a little closer than he expected to hear, only to look up and discover that he was right there in his room. They both still held the phones to their ears, Dean a little more unsteadily than the angel.
"C-cas wha- why are you here, and what did I tell you about just barging in like that!" He hung up the call as he spoke, not actually angry with the being infront of him. But in less that a second he was gone with the sound of wings beating, only to knock on the door.
"May I come in?" he asked timidly.
"Oh, of course you can, Cas! Just shut the door will ya?!"
He wasn't mad, just irritated: at himself, at Sam, even at God. But mostly himself. That was the kicker; no matter what he was always mad at himself.
"Is something wrong, Dean?" he asked, unsure of how to start, yet wanting to pull Dean away from his self destructive thoughts.
He started to talk but just waved his hand at the angel, not wanting to put it into words, knowing he might not be able to hold back the tears. This time... things were different somehow.
"Ah, nah, I'm... uh tired," he finally said. "I just... this time... I don't know, you know."
Cas tilted his head and motioned towards the bed, and he nodded, giving him permission to sit. He moved around under the covers into a comfortable sitting position before looking up at Cas, seeing the worry there.
"Dean, Sam told me-"
"Yeah, I figured he would..." he cut him off, not wanting to hear his actions come out of Cas' mouth. He seemed to catch onto this, and just sighed at the hunter.
"Dean," he started again. "I know you don't want to hear it but that was really wreckless-"
"Castiel, I know you're not going to lecture me." he inserted again. "Cause I'm not gonna hear it if that's the case. You can just leave- w-wait what are you doing?!" His distrusting monolog was quickly cut off by Cas undressing.
"I'm going to join you, Dean." was all he said.
More than flustered, he sat silently, watching each layer come off until he was in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear. It made him feel... things he rather not at that moment. He knew Cas was just being nice in the weird way he was bound to, but it still made his heart flutter to see so little clothing on the man infront of him. God, he hadn't felt this way in a while, not since... well the last time he had seen Cas in person. Which was a few months ago. Maybe that's why he had been so wreckless- because he hadn't had Cas to keep himself in line.
Pulling back the covers, the blue eyed angel shimmied his way into the bed, while Dean scooted over to make more room for him. There had to be at least four blankets, and with another body in them, it was almost unbearably warm. But it was nice to have someone there with him. Not Sam though, that'd be weird. And not Jack either, though he probably would have tried. No, this was a moment to be shared with the man beside him, just as it should be, as it almost always had been.
Laying on his side again, facing Cas, they stared at each other for what seemed the longest time, before Cas finally spoke.
"This is nice." The statement was jarring coming from him of all people, at that moment of all times.
Unable to help himself, Dean let out a chuckle that steadily turned into a laugh. Rubbing his face with his hand, he moved closer to Cas and reached over for his hand on the pillow. He squeezed it, softly at first, then tighter as the laughter turned into tears.
More than a little concerned, Cas grabbed Dean's other hand and pulled him over into a much needed embrace.
Then the water broke. There was no amount of cooing or soft talk that could calm Dean down, nothing Cas could do or say to get the sobbing to stop. The only thing he did was hold the man tightly and hope the pain would end for him soon.
"C-cas I'm s-s-so sor-ry..." was all he said.
"Oh, Dean," Cas interjected. "You have nothing to be sorry for! I should have been there with you."
As he spoke he stroked the hunter's hair, and did something risky; kissed his forehead. He'd never done that before, but the action felt normal, as if his lips were always meant to kiss Dean.
Now Dean was looking up at him, at a loss for words. They stared at each other for hours, it seemed, before Dean said:
"Do that again."
Taken a back, Cas did his best to gently place it upon him, but Dean leaned into the touch as if he craved it. Taking his hand out of the entanglement of their limbs, he pointed to his cheek and said,
"Here. Do that here."
It wasn't quite a command, not quite polite, but Cas was thrilled. The emotions swirling through him were unlike any he had felt, and he complied with the request.
Deans skin practically hummed at the contact, and in a rush Cas was kissing him all over his face. Then he got to his lips. They stared at each other, neither making a move, until Dean's hand shakily reached up and pointed to his mouth, no words coming out, just a soft moan.
And then they were kissing. Softly at first, then rougher. Cas had moved them so that Dean was underneath him at some point, but he didn't care. Couldn't bother to care. They were making out and every bone in his body was screaming more.
But then it was over. Cas was looking at him with his unearthly blue eyes, and he didn't dare look away. He felt tears again but this time held them back, not wanting to ruin the moment.
Deans hands were under Cas' shirt, resting against the warm skin of his chest. Slowly, not quite steadily, Dean moved his hands away from there and towars his face, stiff stubble scratching against his calloused hands. He traversed his fingers across the angel's face, tracing every soft spot, every crease and hair until he got impatient. Cas seemed completely content with their current arrangement and leaned into his touch, and chased after it when the hunter moved away.
His hands now on his own chest, he absently traced the tattoo there, thinking of what to say, if anything at all.
"Cas... what do we do now..." he whispered.
Cas rearanged them again so this time Dean's back was against his chest, holding him there like a child, like he used to do to Jack when he was getting used to sleeping. But this was different- much more intimate.
Letting his thoughts wander, he began with a deep, content sigh.
"Well I guess we can do whatever we want. You don't have to say or do anything you're not comfortable with, Dean. Nor I, but thats the beauty of it I suppose." He paused to look at him, seemingly so vulnerable laying there in his arms. "What do you want to do?" he finished.
Letting out the breath he had been holding, Dean shimmied around to face Castiel, wanting to see his face again.
"I like this, Cas. Can we just stay like this for now?" he practically begged.
"Of course Dean. Always."
