Chapter One
It Started With A Kiss
"You've given me what I needed most. I want to do the same for you." - Amara
One Year Earlier
Dean's boots clanged noisily as he descended the metal stairs, echoing into the heart of the seemingly desolate bunker. Smiling, he took a moment to appreciate the reality and inhaled a deep lungful. Damn it was good to be back. When he had last left with his body choked to bursting point with stolen souls, a walking, ticking human time bomb on a suiside mission, he hadn't expected to walk back through that door and even the ventilated air smelled amazing.
He was alive. He was home.
For once everything had gone without death, or leaving them all in a far worse situation than they had been to begin with. He hadn't had to give his life to save the world. It was a win - in every way. Which may have been a first for the brothers and certainly the closest to a happy ending a Winchester was ever going to get.
The library was empty, no sign of Sam. Considering the late hour, Dean's not surprised. He had gotten back as quickly as possible and was able to find a car, jump it and hadn't met with any other problems or distractions on his return. Chuck had dumped him off in the middle of nowhere, so it had taken a while to get his bearings. It's disappointing, but not unexpected that there wasn't anyone there to welcome him home. Sam had clearly been busy though. The table was loaded full of research material that hadn't been there when they had left to face Amara. Many seemed to be open to pages depicting various accounts of resurrections. It would seem that despite the impossibility of changing it, Sam was not just going to accept Dean's presumed death.
He's thumbing at a few of the unnecessary volumes when a deep, familiar voice breaks the peaceful silence.
"Dean?"
Even edged in a shocked tone of surprised delight, Cas' voice seemed to short circuit all the higher functions of the hunters brain, like it usually did whenever the Angel spoke his name. The deep resonating sound heading straight south and stirring his insides, stunning him momentarily into speechlessness.
Before he could respond, or do anything more than simply glance towards where Cas' voice had come from, Dean found himself encapsulated in a tightly clinging Angelic embrace.
He didn't need conscious thought, or the ability to speak, to instinctively lean into the hug. Bringing his arms around Cas, pulling his secretly converted Angel that bit closer, he hid a secret grin as Cas' soft hair caught on his stubble and tickled his cheek. It was good to be home.
"I thought you were dead."
The tremor in Cas' voice pulled on Dean's heart strings and gave him cause to kick his brain back into gear. Enough to remember that the last time they had seen each other was while saying their goodbyes. Castiel would have seen the sun clear and assumed what that meant. The sun had set long since then and all the while Cas had been grieving, not knowing that his grief was needless.
"I'm okay, man." Dean whispered into Cas' neck softly, laying a soothing hand between the Angel's shoulders, almost able to feel the relief wash through them both. "Bomb wasn't necessary."
"And Amara?" The fear was lessened, replaced with a worry, that Dean was almost certain that no one but him would detect. So attuned to Cas that he was.
"Gone with Chuck for some sibling bonding... It's over, Cas. It's over." Dean told him soothingly, letting the hand that was holding Cas close gently start rubbing up and down the Angel's spine, surprised when Cas pressed himself in even closer despite the reassurance.
He rarely allowed himself to think about Cas the way he truly wanted to, but right at that moment, with the Angel's body pressed in so closely with his own, he indulged, just a little.
Feelings towards Cas had started developing the first time Dean had laid eyes on the Angel. Even after all these years he could remember the moment in precise detail - The air heavy with raw power, as the worn out doors splintered inwards and Castiel has stroad slowly in purposefully towards them, his eyes laser focused. The earthy smell of the old barn, sawdust, paint and rot, overpowered by the gunpowder from salt rounds from his and Bobby's shotguns. The sparks from the blown lights overhead that shone all the brighter as the shadows magnified, leaving spots in his vision. Mustering all of his strength he had driven Ruby's blade deep into the Angel's chest, leaving only the hilt sticking out. A deadly blow had Cas been human or demon and Dean was left staring dumbfounded in shocked realization when nothing had happened. Castiel hadn't cried out, screamed, gone up in flames, lightning hadn't flared under his skin lighting his skeleton. Nothing. Son of a bitch hadn't even flinched.
That was the first time Dean had found himself caught in the most penetrating stare from the bluest eyes, that even in the darkness of the barn hadn't dulled. He would get used to being looked at with such intensity over the years, but in that first time he remembered his stomach flip flopping in nervous excitement, his heart pounding till it was all he could hear, in a way that had nothing to do fear, and thinking Castiel was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.
Dean had never been a believer of the whole 'love at first sight' thing, that was something that was reserved for chick flicks and garbage romance novels, as far as he was concerned. It just didn't happen in real life. So he had assumed (in the beginning) that the feelings that had bubbled up inside of him, under Cas' penetrating gaze, was some kind of Angelic reverence thing. Some hypnotic pull that could draw humans to the celestial beings, that had caused that new and unexpected feeling. But that assumption had been thrown out the window when he had met the other Angels and that experience had been nothing like meeting Cas. Quite the opposite in fact, he thought the rest of them were dicks and that was putting it mildly.
It wasn't Angelic, it was only Cas.
Over the years those feelings had only developed deeper. Growing from a mere, yet strong and unexpected, attraction, to a friendship and onto something deeper and more profound. Yet Dean pushed them down, hiding them from everyone, including himself - Mostly. He tried to think of Cas as his brother, a brother in arms, but also family. But every now and then when he thought no one was looking, or when he found himself trapped in that soul piercing stare, or while being embraced like he was right now, like he was the most precious thing in the world, only then did he allow himself to indulge in the fantasy.
Dean wouldn't have thought it was possible, but Cas' grip tightened further still, like he didn't want the embrace to end anytime soon, keeping their chests pressed tight together with only the multiple layers of their combined clothing (which Dean was currently cursing) separating them. He'd love to just lose those shirts and feel Cas' skin, warm and smooth against his own. Run his hands over the Angel's bare back, finally know what's been hiding under that trench and suit all theses years and feel every inch of -
Whoa!
He reined in his wildly escaping thoughts before they could escape him completely and make it all the way down to the gutter. That wouldn't do him any good and there was already a stirring down south that wouldn't go unnoticed if it was given any more stimulation. He'd fantasies about Castiel in far more compromising position than just bare-chested in his arms (He's sure that some of the ones that he'd had indulged in would earn him a one way trip to hell if Heaven ever found out just how he'd imagined an Angel of the Lord inside his head. If the dicks even cared) and knows just how quickly mere thoughts can have a physical effect on him, and that had to be... inappropriate or something. It was definitely crossing some invisible line at least, especially since the dude clearly needed comfort.
"Hey, okay, alright," Dean said dismissively, giving the Angel a gentle slap between his shoulders to signal that the hug was over. Quickly pulling back he held Cas at arms length, before he could let their closeness cause him to get carried away any further.
The expression he finds now he can finally see his friends face is not one he likes. Castiel looks emotionally wrung out. So many expressions crossing the Angel's features, like he just can't decide how he feels, or how to express it; the fear, pain, longing, barely marked behind weary eyes, that peer up at him like they can't quite believe what he is seeing. It was endearing and heartbreaking in equal measures and the hunter couldn't bear it. On anyone else that expression would be terrible to witness, on an Angel... it was just plain wrong. He had to fix it. So, without giving it much thought, if any thought at all, Dean brought his hand up to gently cup Cas' jaw, closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the front of the Angel's cheek. Intending nothing more than to prove to Cas that he was here, he was safe, trying to ease that worriedly pained look that is completely dominating the Angel's features. Nothing wrong with a peck on the cheek to give a friend some comfort, right? That's all it was, a friendly peck.
But as his lips met skin, Cas turned. It's a tiny movement, a subtle shift, but causes Dean to miss his intended target. Stubble lightly grazes across his lips, before... For the second time since he had gotten back to the bunker, Dean is stunned into silence, not that he wanted to speak at the moment, his mouth if far too occupied with something far more enjoyable, but even if he did he knew he wouldn't be able to think of a single thing to say. He freezes, shocked into complete motionlessness, mind flung out to the stratosphere, leaving behind only one realization.
Cas kissed him.
Was kissing him.
Warm, soft yet chapped Angelic lips were pressing into his own. Their noses smooshed awkwardly together, which would make Dean think that this had been completely accidental on Cas' part, had it not been for the fact that the Angel's lips were pursed, gently yet deliberate pushing against his. Their solitary connection, mouth to mouth, was all he could feel. The rest of his body numb, all feeling gone to whatever distant place his conscious thoughts had gone to before them. All there is...is Cas. Cas' lips clinging to his like the last liferaft. Cas' breath merging with his, breathing each other in. Cas' fresh airy scent overpowering all others. He smelt like spring, and hope. Butterflies the size of fighter jets explode in his stomach, spreading out in a warm excited feeling of pure arousal.
It's completely flooding what little of his scenes remained. It was a heady feeling and leaving him helpless to collect together his rapidly escaping thoughts.
"Dean?"
Briefly, Dean wonders how Cas was able to speak without moving his lips, before he realises that the kiss has ended. Cas isn't pressing into him anymore. He's frozen with his lips still pursed against nothing but air. Eyes still lightly closed. He's panting, the taste of Cas still lingering on his oversensitive, tingling lips and he missed the feeling of it already. Brief as it was, it was intoxicating, leaving Dean craving more. The kiss of his Angel was worryingly addictive.
He snaps his eyes open, blinking in confusion as he's unwillingly forced back to reality. A reality where Cas was watching him closely, studying. Speedily drinking in every detail of the hunters conflicted features. It wasn't the usual stare that he had gotten used to from the Angel, the fiercely concentrated one where he felt like the Angel could see into his soul and read his every thought. The one that he found so impossibly hard to break away from, that it was almost hypnotic. No, this look was nothing like that, it was brief, innocent and almost sad, before his eyes shyly dropped. "That was inappropriate. I'm sorry."
"Cas?" Dean swallows dryly, trying to force his uncooperative tongue, that seemed to have grown several sizes too big for his mouth to form words. Any words. Absolutely any other words. There's so much that he wants to say, but the Angel's name seemed to be all that was left in his vocabulary.
The room fell silent apart from Dean's panted breaths, he could almost feel the tense seconds tick by with every adrenaline fueled thump in his chest, every rush of air that was further drying his lips and parched throat. Before something snapped inside of him, as his brain seemed to surge to life, lunging to a new clarity, as if it had been under water his entire life and was only now breaking the surface, breathing for the first time. Nerves shattered and disappeared, leaving behind only a pull on every instinct he had, lurching his mind forwards into confident resolve. He didn't know where it came from, and in that moment he didn't care, all he knew for absolute certainty was that whatever this was between Cas and him, it was meant, it was pure, it was mutual. In that moment he knew that more completely than he knew his own name.
"No, it wasn't and don't apologize." His voice was confident, husky as he closed the small distance between them. Cas' eyes shot up, meeting Deans in hopeful surprise, only to slam closed a second later after the hunters lips came to his for the second time.
Dean intended the kiss to be a gentle one for both their sakes. Despite his fierce resolve, he was highly aware that they were entering uncharted territory and it never hurt to be cautious. Sure his nerves seemed to have taken a road trip to some unknown distant location and his mind seemed to be short-circuiting like a faulty fuse box, but that doesn't mean he's thoughtless.
Cas was far less experienced with romantic encounters then he was, only two, as far as the hunter knew and both women had been using the Angel for their own personal gain in some way. Cas' tongue tangle with Meg and the following intrusion into his life had been because the Demon needed allies and what better ally than an actual Warrior of Heaven, even if the Angel hadn't been fully sane at the time. And then there had been that Reaper bitch who had literally pumped him for information, before killing him.
The Angel had never been kissed by someone who truly cared for him before.
However pure Dean's intentions were it seemed Castiel was not on the same page. He dove into the kiss hungrily, claiming and surrendering. There's a hand combing fingers in the short hairs at the back of his neck, holding him close as if worried the kiss would disappear if given the chance. Another gripping his hip with strong fingers, keeping their lower halves flushed just as tightly together as their waltzing lips and Dean felt the ground slip away from beneath him, before his back slams against something hard and solid. Jaring their lips apart on impact.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" Dean takes the opportunity to ask breathlessly, though he can see the answer in the Angel's eyes, read it in his expression, feel it in his eagerness, but he needs to hear it out loud to put the one last shred of his doubts fully to rest.
Cas tilted his head, brow pucker and seemed to be contemplating the question, very carefully. "I've never been more sure about anything."
His words were a whispered promise, no hint of uncertainty and Dean feel releif wash through him as a breath hadn't been aware of holding escapes, uncontrolled honest words chasing after, "Me either," before their lips locked together once again, in a near urgent eagerness.
Dean's previous hesitancy all but gone, striving to keep up with Cas' enthusiasm. The Angel's mouth moving against his in near perfect symmetry, making Dean wonder if it's too soon to up the ante, when Cas beats him to it and the Angel's tongue slides effortlessly into his mouth, like it's always belonged there.
"Hey, Cas, get this. I may have found something."
At the sound of Sam's voice Dean jerks back, breaking the kiss and shoving Cas away, roughly. Wiping his swollen mouth with his sleeve, his wide guilty eyes watch his brother enter the room, head down closely studying a book in his hand, seemingly unaware of the scene he had just walked in on, while he tried to get hold of his breathing and hoped the heat rising over his head wasn't a telltale blush.
When he didn't get a response, Sam looked up and his eyes nearly bugged out of his skull. "Dean?"
Dean found himself in the second crushing shocked hug of the evening, his brother's voice coming in startled relief from over his shoulder. "We thought you were dead."
"So I've heard," Dean replied casually, trying to keep his breathlessness from his voice.
Sam silently chuckled at his brother's unperturbed dismissal, it was just Dean's way. He laughed off the seriousness, made jokes out of the dire and it was comforting to know that Dean was back in every sense. With a mental shrug Sam tossed the now not needed book onto the table along with the others.
Giving his brother's shoulder a firm pat, Sam pulled back out of their hug and took in the sight of him that his shock hadn't allowed him to fully register before. Glancing back and forth between his brother and the Angel he noticed their mutual rumpled hair, swollen lips and disheveled clothing... and the blush that had taken over Dean's whole face, neck and ears, as well as his 'hand caught in the cookie jar' wide-eyed expression.
"Did I?" Sam paused hesitantly. After all these years, would it be too much to hope for that, they had finally got their heads out of their respected asses and admitted to each other what was so abundantly clear to everyone else around them. "... Am I interrupting something?"
"No," Dean replied, too quickly for Sam to find it believable. Even if he did, the far from subtle way Castiel jerked his head round to frown at him, clearly offended with Dean's denial, was a dead giveaway.
Dean was hoping Sam hadn't noticed anything, but the way his little brother seemed to be trying, and not quite managing, to hold back a grin didn't fill him with confidence.
"Well, it's been a long day. I'm going to my room to listen to some music. Loudly, with headphones in, so I won't be able to hear anything." With that Sam strolled out of the room, an amused grin dominating his features. "Night guys."
"Subtle, Sammy!" Dean shouts after him, hearing a chuckle float back to his ears as Sam disappears down the corridor.
xXxXxXxXx
Stepping stones of flannel, cotton and denim made a pathway to the bed. All ripped and flung from the hunters body by a very eager Angel on a mission. With every new inch of skin that is revealed Cas marveled. Dean Winchester was a work of art. Out of everything he'd ever seen in all his father's creation this human was the most beautiful, in Castiel's opinion. This soul, so pure, so bright, completely flawless, with a pull on the Angel to match the gravity of the sun, housed in a body that mirrored it's perfection. He had rebuilt this body for Dean at his resurrection, he had rejoined it with Dean's soul. He knew both, down to the most minimal detail, knew the precise placement of each and every freckle - every cell, every molecule. But to know it intimately, to be able to touch, to feel and stroke. To caress him, bare beneath his hands, unmasked from the coverings of inferior clothing that were not worthy of touching such beauty. This was a deeply converted treasure of delicate hardness he had been sure he would never get to fully discover.
Dean's head was reeling, completely at his wits end, unable to keep up with Cas' speeded progress. He could swear blind that he was fully dressed only seconds before, now the only thing covering his skin was his underwear and Cas. Cas, who seems to have hands everywhere, covering more of his body than his clothes ever had. There's hands caressing his back, his sides, his chest, sliding up and down smoothly. There's lips and - Jesus fuck - tongue and teeth on his throat, as the caresses slip lower... Dean's breath caught, a gasp stuck in his throat, as Cas' hands slipped, without any hesitancy, beneath the waistband of his boxers, stroking firmly over the skin of his ass and pushing down his last remaining piece of his material protection.
Strong sure hands scoop under his naked thighs and the floor vanishes from beneath his feet as he's lifted, effortlessly. Startled, he grappled at the Angel's shoulders, but before he could get purchase he's thrown back, landing with a soft bounce face up on the bed. Cas chases him up, crawling over him, until their lips collide again, wet, open and urgent.
It's all going far too quickly for Dean when all he wants to do is take things slow, savior each and every moment, drink in and commit every single tiny detail to memory. As much as the heat between them is driving him to eagerly wanting more he doesn't want things over too soon. Dammit he'd waited years for this, so what was a few minutes longer in comparison.
And Cas was still wearing far too much clothing.
He turns his attention to planting open mouthed kisses along Cas' jaw line, so he can attempt to take some control and slow things down, while giving his uncoordinated, overexcited fingers a chance to loosen Cas' backwards tie and give his head time to stop spinning. Because he's losing his mind. Being naked, being pressed down into memory foam by the Angel, a highly aroused Angel if the hardness grinding into his hip is anything to go by. An Angel he's wanted so badly, fantasied about so often, for years, it was hard to believe, impossible to believe that this is actually happening.
A soft gasp leaves the Angel's lips and he stills, eyes dropping closed, head lolling, as Dean reaches the spot just below his ear and Dean makes a mental note to return to that spot later, but for now there is so much more of his Angel to uncover and explore. He takes advantage of Cas' momentary distraction to try and get rid of some of these layers. He briefly pauses his tasting of Castiel's throat only to pull the tie over his head, before returning to that delicious skin, while his hands slip up around Cas' shoulders beneath his jacket trying to rid the Angel of two layers in one motion. But they bunch up below Cas shoulder blades, effectively trapping the Angel's elbow to his side and Cas had to back up to lose the clothes pinning his arms down.
With his eyes fixed on the breathless human below, Cas frees himself of the offending clothing, and goes to retake his position on top of Dean, but the hunter has other ideas. Seizing his opportunity, he surging up, planting his lips to Cas', pushing back against the Angel, making just enough of a gap between them so he could work the buttons of Cas' shirt open.
Now Dean can really take his time. Slowing the kiss till Cas is groaning, while he plucks the buttons open one by one, letting the backs of his fingers play over Cas' firm chest and then stomach, drinking in the feel of every new part of Cas' torso that's revealed on Dean's southern journey.
Reluctantly he removed his lips from Cas' as he popped open the last button. Laying back to stare up at Cas propped over him, fists either side of his head. He let the white dress shirt drop open, revealing the Angel's impressive chest. Dean had learnt long ago that he enjoyed firm muscles just as much as soft curves, but with Cas... it was something new all together. His hands move almost on autopilot, discarding the shirt and then grasping over abs and pecs, feeling the muscles tense with his touch under smooth flawless skin. Tugging Cas lower, Dean's open mouthed kisses follow just after, tasting and teasing. Cas' eyes rolled back in his skull, as Dean found and sucked a nipple between his teeth, feeling against his lips a groan rumbled through Cas' chest.
"You okay there?" Dean can't help but ask, a cheeky smile playing on his lips because he already knows the answer, even before Cas replied with a quick nod, like he can't form words around his panting breaths, wafting over Dean's overheated skin.
His eyes slide languidly open, unveiling that impossible blue and Dean's immediately drawn in. He's been lost in Cas' gaze so many times before, but never like this. It's never been so exposeingly intimate and he'd never seen lust reflected back in dilated pupils. He keeps his gaze locked, gauging Cas' reaction, as he slides his hands down, smoothing palms over the firm soft skin, until he reaches the Angel's waist. Slowly, he works open Cas' belt, hand then dropping lower to slide down the fly. Cas' arms are tense, holding up the Angel's weight, but the soft sigh he lets out encourages Dean onwards. Cas is already hard when he slips his hand in, lightly grasping him round the base he draws a staggered gasp from the Angel's mouth. Sliding effortlessly over the hard length, it doesn't take more than a few pumps for Cas' hips to start instinctively thrusting into his fist. But shortly after, Cas seems to lose patients, or needs more closeness, whatever the reason the results are the same. He dives down, one hand grasping at Dean's hip and the other sliding up underneath and between his shoulder blades, crushing their bodies flush together and Dean had to wriggle his hand out before it got trapped in between them. The Angel's hips still in motion now grinding down against Dean's own erection. his lips clamp to Dean's own, swallowing the hunters gasp.
All Dean's will to hold back and go slow dissolves into simple hot driven desire. The delicious friction, the heat, the weight of Cas firmly pressed down into him, the pleasured moans pulled from the Angel with every roll of his powerful hips, it was all building, adding to tightness in his stomach. His orgasm was threateningly close. This was going to be over all too soon.
"We can just do this," Dean pants through the pleasure, "or we can do more, it's your call, Cas."
The Angel pauses, straightening his arms as he raises up so he can look into Dean's eyes. "More, Dean. I want all of it... with you." It's a whispered prayer from the lips of an Angel and the blue of his eyes, that Dean loves to get lost in, is almost completely gone, now just thin slivers round the outside of completely blown pupils.
"Wow." Dean gasps out without thought and he quickly shakes his head, to clear it, before he drifts away again.
It takes him all of a second to decide. Nearly everyone can top, but bottoming was more of an acquired taste and not something he wanted to rush a novice into, especially when that novice was Cas. Dean had only ever topped before, never had any interest, or even considered trying the reverse role. Even if he had, he doubted he would have trusted any man he's been with to put himself in that vulnerable position. They had all been quick hook ups, one night stands and definitely not guys he'd want to be intimate with in that way, especially not for his first time. But Cas - Cas he trusted with so much more. Cas he'd trust with his life.
It felt right, that Cas would be his first time receiving, that Cas was going to be the first inside him. - Cas was going to be inside him - A jolt of excited arousal shot to his groin, making his dick twitch eagerly at just the thought.
"Okay. Lose the pants," Dean instructed quickly, nodding down to the Angels lower half. Cas followed his gaze, frowning as if confused how the remaining of the clothes had out lasted all the others.
While Cas scrambled out of the rest of his clothing, Dean twisted on to his side, stretching to reach the drawer at the bedside. He rummages around at the back, finally snagging the tube he's searching for he turns back to Cas, finding the Angel sat back on his haunches, unashamed in his nakedness. He swallows nervously at the sight of the hard member standing proudly against the Angel's stomach. Cas was large, not tyrannosaurus prick large, but certainly bigger than Dean expected considering the Angel's athletic frame and it wasn't the starter kit size that would be ideal for a first time in his virgin hole. But it was going to hurt regardless of size, right? And there was no way Dean was going to back out or let a little apprehension change his mind now. He has wanted this for far too long to let a little fear stand in his way.
Taking Cas' wrist, he tugs him closer, while he fumbles with the lid, before coating the Angel's fingers generously. "You have to open me up," he breathes, emphasizing each word carefully, "Start with one and work up."
Cas' nod of understanding is so small it is almost invisible. Almost. But Dean is watching so closely he sees it. "I understand the mechanics of it Dean."
"Okay," he breathed out, a near sigh of relief. Cas' calm reassurance helps to ease the pounding of his heart that he's sure the Angel will be able to hear also, because of course he's nervous, he's never done this before. He's going to be fucked for the first time, and by an Angel no less. The whole thing is completely surreal and he is still only half sure it's actually happening and half expecting to wake up any moment.
Leaning back, Dean brings Cas' hand down between them where Cas is kneeling between his parted thighs. Lower. "Go slow, Cas." Dean instructs, gently. "I've never... Just go slow, okay?"
Cas nodded through his panting, as Dean let go of his wrist and settled down onto the mattress. But Cas stills, his eyes flitting back and forth between his poised hand and Dean's face, looking just as nervously unsure as Dean is feeling, like he'd just been handed the keys to a million dollar Mercedes, or something far more precious - Baby, and was worried that he couldn't handle the responsibility, or was doubting his ability to handle it.
"We don't have to, Cas," Dean said in a reassuring whisper. The Angel had said he wanted more, all of it, but if he was now thinking it was too much, too soon, Dean wasn't going to push it, wasn't going to force Cas into anything he wasn't ready for, as if he could. "If this is-"
He gulped in a startled breath as Castiel's slicked fingers brushed against his opening, sending a jolt of intense intimacy gushing through him at the smallest of touches.
Propped up on one arm, Castiel watched the hunter below with wrapped attention, fascinated by the reaction he was getting from the teased circling of his finger, while he made sure to spread the lubricant well. The Angel's body was thrumbing with undiluted desire. His hips seemed to have developed a will all of its own, reacting to the stimuli. His genitalia had swollen to the point where it was becoming painful and seemed to be leaking and was driving him for friction. His breathing shallow, but quick, his skin flushed and his heart was pounding. And Dean's body was reacting in just the same way, except the hunter was also coated in a very fine layer of adrenaline scented sweat.
With his eyes locked on Dean's face, ready for any sign of discomfort from the human beneath him, he slowly pushed just the tip of his middle finger in, breaching the tight ring of muscle.
Dean unconsciously tensed up, his body protesting against the intrusion on reflex, clenching down on the digit without thought. Struggling to keep his face neutral under Cas' intense judging gaze, as his whole body shivered with the feeling of Cas' finger moving slowly, thrusting into his body so delicately.
He could barely process anything. All consumed by an openness and vulnerability he had never experienced, but damn did it feel good. Every sensation focused on that one area, making him hyper aware of every slightest movement the Angel made. Every slow controlled push, every twist flared his sensitivity and he fisted the sheets in a vain attempt to stay on Earth, while biting his lip to stifle his wanton moans. Nothing he had experienced felt like this. He had expected it to be embarrassing and uncomfortable, and to a degree it was, but that was overshadowed by an overwhelming heat that was building rapidly in the pit of his stomach sending sensations straight to his expanding member laying heavily on his tensed stomach.
"Don't do that." Cas said in a gentle request, pushing on Dean's chin to release his lower lip from being trapped in his teeth. "I want to hear you."
No sooner was the lip freed that a long drawn out moan escaped the hunter, and reassured, Castiel gave a few more pushes in and out of Dean's opening hole, before gingerly adding his index finger also. Curling his fingers, aiming for the little bundle of nerves he knew was within.
The result was instant. Dean's back arched off the bed accompanied by a startled gasp that seemed like the hunter was trying to pull all the oxygen from the room in one breath. Castiel froze. He believed stimulating the prostate gland was meant to be pleasurable, but he had to be sure that the reaction Dean had given him wasn't one of pain.
Breathless, Dean met Cas' concerned eyes. "Ah god do that again," he demanded, pushing his hips down, trying to drive those inexperienced yet surprisingly talented fingers deeper.
With a coyly relieved smile, Castiel did just as asked, sending the hunter into another near spasm. Gauging his movements with intense cautiousness, Cas alternated between working open the tight muscle, willing it to relax more and tweaking the bundle of nerves that seemed to be driving Dean wild with need. The pleasured moans being pulled out of the hunter with every push into his body were encouraging and blessed to hear, but made his insides jump and taxed his control to the limit. Yet, he refused to give in to the desire that urged him onwards. He would go slow, as Dean had asked, make sure he was ready, he wouldn't be ruled by basic lust.
Dean seemed to have lost the ability to breath. All he could do was fishmouth at the ceiling as one pleasurable jolt chased up his spine after another, like lightning, every time Cas' fingers moved within him. Never in his dizziest fantasies had he thought it would feel like this. So good, too good. They had barely started and already Dean felt like he was losing his mind, dangerously close to coming. But he didn't want to, not yet, not like this. He wanted more.
"Cas... Ah Cas... You have to- Oh God, you have to stop."
Castiel quickly pulled back his hand, jerking out of the hunter's body as if burnt. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No, Cas," Dean chuckled breathlessly at his Angel's panicked expression. "Nothing wrong with that," he said honestly, struggling to speak through his panting. "I don't wanna tap out before the main event."
Easing himself up, Dean grabbed for the lube. Pouring a generous amount onto his palm, Dean took hold of Cas. The Angel gasped, dropping his head, his eyes falling closed, as Dean gently pumped Cas' length, making sure to spread the gel thoroughly. Using his free hand, Dean pressed on the Angel's back, encouraging him back over him. Castiel looked a mix of excited eagerness and debilitating nervousness as he lowered himself between Dean's thighs.
Dean buried his head in Cas' neck as he felt the hard length gliding up the inside of his thigh and bluntly pushed against his clenching hole. This was it. After all these years of fantasies it was finally becoming a reality. And he needs to relax, because he knows it's gonna hurt. How could it not. It's his first time, and Cas is completely inexperienced. Tensing up is only going to make it worse.
Castiel is torn. Tension is radiating off of Dean and bombarding the Angel's senses. Even if he wasn't as tuned into Dean as he was, he could feel the tightness of the hunters muscles. Dean was nervous, maybe as much as the Angel was himself, yet the longing, the need, the arousal is overpowering.
"What are ya waitin' for Cas?" Dean breaths against his shoulder, interrupting Cas' inner debate, "A written invitation?"
Dean's hand slides down and presses against the small of Cas' back, pushing their lower halves together closer. There's a solid confidence to Dean's tone, telling the Angel that, despite the nerves, Dean knows exactly what he wants. As if to prove it, Cas feels some of the tension slip away, as Dean forces himself to relax. The Angel's grip tightening on his hip and curling his hips, he thrust forwards agonizingly slowly, pressing a firm gentle pressure steadily... until, there's a give.
Dean screwed his eyes tight, swallowing a silent growl in expectation for the pain as he stretched open around Cas' girth.
But it doesn't come. There's a burn with the stretch, but it's more of a bright heat, highlighting Cas' movements as he inches in fractionally further with every carefully restrained thrust, punctuated with soft gasps falling from his lips and tight spasming beyond his control. Cas' fingers had felt good, but it's nothing - Nothing! - compared to the intense feeling of being slowly filled that's leaving him unsure whether he will push back and try to force Cas out of him or come untouched right there and then.
He's still trying to wrap his head around it when he lets out a startled gasp as he feels Cas' hips meet the backs of his thighs.
"Dean?" The concern in Cas' voice is unmistakable.
Keeping his eyes locked closed, Dean forces himself to reply, doing his best to his voice steady, "I'm okay," he says, tightening his grip on the others shoulder, desperately trying to keep him in place, hold him still, because the last thing he wants right now is for the Angel to move. Not until his body can adjust to the intrusion it's hotly objecting to, clenching down on Cas uncontrollably. "Just- just hold still for a minute."
Cas nods, his stubbled jaw lightly scraping against Dean's cheek where he's being clung to so tightly. The Angel's lips find Dean's throat, dropping soothingly sensual kisses along the path of his pulse, tracing up along his jaw, until they find their goal and claim Dean's own.
Dean knew what a strain it was to be still in those first moments, when your whole body burns with desire and all you can think of is the need to thrust into that hot clenching heat. He knows Cas is feeling that overpowering urge right now. He can feel the fierce tremor that vibrates through his Angel's skin and the tenseness of his muscles. Yet the kiss Cas gave him in that moment was nothing but tender and loving, no hint of urgency, no rush to take the edge off. Just a gentle brush of soft chapped lips against his partially clenched ones.
The strength of the Angel's will-power caused a quiver of excitement to wash through the hunter and his muscles clamped down on Cas unintentionally, causing Cas to whimper into Dean's mouth wantonly, his grip on Dean's side tightening. Still his kiss remains soft and Dean can't help but get lost in it. Letting his body relax into it, focusing on the gentle way Cas' lips are moving over his and eventually his body stops rebelling against everything he wants. Cupping Cas' jaw, Dean thumbs across the stubble and he brings their foreheads together. "You can move, Cas. Just...go slow okay?"
Cas dips his chin, his gaze focuses with intense concentration on their lower halves, he pulls back slowly, shifting his hips till he finds a new angle. When he's happy with their new position he brings their lips together again, kissing Dean deeply, as he curls his hips forward. Dean throws his head back, a loud gasp ripping from him, as a jolt of intense pleasure crashes unexpectedly through him like a bolt of raw lightning, causing his back to lerch off the bed without his consent. Mind Blown that Cas managed to find his prostate on his very first real thrust, but suspecting that he may have used his mojo to do just that. The subtle smug look Cas was suddenly sporting told Dean that had, in fact, been the case. 'Yeah he's definitely cheating.' Not that Dean's complaining.
Before he could accuse Cas of doing just that, his second thrust skimmed over it's target sending another just as powerful jolt of pleasure coursing through him, and another, and another and he loses all thought. "Ah Cas!"
Cas was drowning in sensations. He had experienced the pleasures of the flesh once before, but the feelings flooding into him currently were so much stronger than they had been back then. He knew the act itself would be different as Dean was the same gender as his vessel, but he had assumed that that was where the differences would end. He had been so wrong.
Being inside Dean is a hot tight heat that is radiating through his whole being like a solar flare. It's making his muscles clench, his skin warm and flush, but it's not just his vessel affected, it's penetrating Castiel to a limit Dean shouldn't be able to touch and pushing his strained control to near breaking point. But the most taxing are the gasps and pleasured moans Dean's letting out which are looping back around, giving Castiel pleasure from knowing that he's giving Dean pleasure, in an ever increasing spiral and his heart feels like it will explode from the pure emotion flooding into him. The world has fallen away, there's nothing but Dean, his pure essence, his intoxicating scent, the feel of his sweat slicked skin, the flutter of firm muscles. It's all his own personal drug, one that he never wants to recover from. His control slips, head spins and he dives down in utter abandon, sinking deeper, harder.
"Fuck, Cas," Dean's breaths are coming too quick, but not deep enough. His own arousal heavy, trapped between their stomachs, practically singing with the friction of Cas' powerful thrusts, that's turning into little more than a moaning mass of wanton need in record time.
"D-Dean?" His name came out a trembled whisper against the hollow of his throat, full of desperate uncertainty and utterly wrecked.
Dean pushes his head further into the pillow, twisting so he can see his Angel's face. Cas' eyes are clamped tight shut, lips parted, face tensed in pain pleasure.
"Cas?"
His lids parting slightly, giving away only the smallest glimpse of blue edged around lust blown pupils. Deep inside the hunter saw something, almost hidden behind the need, the desperate drive. Cas is lost, completely overwhelmed. Which didn't make any sense. Cas had done this before, ok not exactly this, but he had been with a woman, he wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex when he was...
Oh God!
Cas hadn't done this before. He had, but he hadn't. He had been human at the time. The Angel had never had sex, as an Angel.
This was completely new and uncharted territory for him and Dean could see all the uncertainty reflected in those deep unfocused eyes, hooded into slits. Cas was gone, barely holding on. He could feel it in the tremble washing through the Angel's entire body, the faltering grip on his hip.
"It's... it's not like... I can't... I..."
He was holding back. Muscles so tensed it looked like he was trying to hold the weight of the whole world on his shoulders. Teetering on the edge, afraid of what would happen if he fell. Completely undone. Lost in sensation.
But Dean was right there with him on the precipice, ready to leap, together. "Cas... I got ya. Just let go."
In response to Dean's voice Cas let out a primal moan as the words go through him, sounding more like a growl in its deep bassness so close to the hunters ear. He wants to, Dean can see that he does, he's holding on as if for dear life. His hooded eyes, glazed and unfocused drift to Dean's, lost and pleading. So desperate and need filled. His breathing coming in fast, uneven staggered pants, making the tendons in his throat stand out as he gasps and whines. Cas is coming completely undone, because of him, because of Dean. His panted groans coming fast and rampant, lost in the thoroughs of ecstasy.
"Come for me, Cas... Come with me," Dean urges, and as if he's held off for permission Cas' hips grinding in, deep and powerful, leaving Dean jarred into breathlessness and his eyes clamp shut against the pounding ecstasy that's forced into him as Cas hits that sweet spot with every forceful jerk of his hips and tips Dean over the edge.
His head forces back into the pillow, back arching off the bed, pressing his cock tight to Cas tensed stomach. He screams, vision gone. He loses his grip on reality as his orgasm rips through him. The last thing he feels is Cas pushing tight into him one last time, pulsing so deeply, as the Angel's cry merged with his own.
Dean doesn't know how long it is, but eventually when his senses come back to him the air feels heavy and rippling with static. Cas has collapsed on top of him where his arms had finally given out. He's heavier than he looks, but it's a pleasant weight with their chest pressed so close together that Dean can feel Cas' every pounding heartbeat battling against his own. He raised a weary hand so he can run it through his Angel's soft sex messed hair.
"Cas?" he rasped out through protesting vocal cords, "You okay?"
Castiel's panted breaths, breezing over Dean's shoulder, pause while he swallows thickly, only to start again straight after, before the Angel gives up trying to speak and gives an enthusiastic nod instead.
Dean chuckles and tossels the hair he's fingering through. It had been intense, probably more so for the Angel if Cas inability to speak is anything to go by. So he gives Cas a few minutes to recover, running soothing hands over the Angel's surprisingly sweat-free back, before telling him to get out and off so he can go clean up the mess that they'd made.
Cas backs his hips up slightly, slipping out with a soft hiss from Dean, rolling to the side, he collapses onto his back allowing the hunter to get up from under him.
Using the light seeping in from under the door as a guide, Dean makes his way over to the small sink on shaking legs that feel like they can barely hold his weight. Reaching over he flicks on the bedroom light, so he can see what he's doing while he cleans himself up. Wiping off the remains of his orgasm from his stomach and lower chest. He rinses out the washcloth and turns to toss it to Cas, so the Angel can do the same.
"What the..."
Dean frowned at the disarray of the bedroom that he hadn't been able to see before with the light being off. Everything he owned it seemed was thrown about the place, as if a tornado had swiped through the room while the pair of them had been distracted with each other. He'd been pretty out of it but he thought he would have noticed if they had had an earthquake. "Cas?"
"I'm sorry," Cas sighed, apologetically, "It was an accident."
Dean couldn't help but laugh. "I've heard of explosive orgasms, Cas. But...damn."
Cas gave him a bashful grin. "I'll clear it up. You should sleep, you're exhausted."
Dean wanted to protest, wanted to offer to help, but honestly Cas had a point, he was totally fucked out. Besides Cas had made the mess... and didn't need sleep. With a nod of agreement, Dean crawled heavily back into bed. Pulling the sheet over him, he snuggled down, his muscles relaxing and eyelids drooping heavy, sleep already calling to him.
He felt a gentle kiss press to his forehead before the mattress shifted as Cas got up and out of the bed.
"You won't..." he said wearily, barely get the words out, "You won't go anywhere will you?"
"No, Dean." he heard the other whisper back to him, close by. "I'll watch over you."
With a soft sigh, Dean let himself drift off into slumber. That didn't sound so creepy anymore.
xXxXxXx
With the room back to the ordered state it had done before and their clothes neatly folded, Cas slipped back in beside Dean in the bed, pulling the sound asleep hunter closer, until he was pillowed on the Angel's chest with his head settled in the crock of his shoulder and neck.
The weight pressing down on him, the scent of Dean's skin and the sensation of his steady breaths against Cas' chest was soothing for the Angel. But then, having Dean close had always felt like it was a safe zone. He petted Dean's hair away from his face in slow short strokes and started to try and process the tangled mess of powerful emotions that he, as an Angel, was not meant to experience and was not used to. It was so easy to get confused and this day had seen a barrage of emotion with such intensity that Castiel was completely overwhelmed.
Having lived countless millennia as a Warrior of Heaven, nothing more than a soldier, a tool, a puppet to be ordered, that was normal for the Angel. Emotions, human emotions, were complex and messy and he needed time to process them.
So, in the security of Dean's arms, Castiel broke down everything he had experienced in the last few hours, considering each change carefully and individually, mentally picking apart every experience and the feeling he experiences with them.
The first of which had come upon seeing Dean take hundreds of thousands of souls into his body, knowing the hunters life was on borrowed time from that point on. That had made Castiel's stomach and gut feel like they had tightening to the point of implosion and a stinging sensation had sprung in his eyes. But those were physical symptoms, the feelings however were stronger and much much more painful.
He had offered to go with Dean of course, but his offer had been turned down, as he knew it would. That made him feel... he wasn't sure. Rejected? Maybe, but not quite. Though he had come to expect nothing less from the hunter and his self sacrificing nature. But he had wanted to go with him, wanted to be with him for every last possible moment that Dean had left, even though it would mean his own death, but whether that was due to loyalty and a desire to be with Dean so he wouldn't die alone, or not wanting to live in a world without Dean, he couldn't be sure. So he decided it must be an amalgamation of all of them, mixed in with the thinnest shred of hope, hope that the hunter would find another way, hope that Father might be able to spare him somehow, hope that Dean may live.
That hope had died when the sun brightened, knowing Dean's death was the cause. The strongest emotions were obvious to him as he thought back over them; Sorrow, a shielded numbed sadness and a deep regret that he had never told the hunter just how much he meant to him, along with a small certain amount of what Castiel had assumed was pride. His charge, the Righteous Man, Dean Winchester had saved the world, but that spark had been short-lived when the certainty that he was never going to see the man again set in. That had been painful... no, painful wasn't the right word, it was so much stronger than simple pain... it was... it was soul destroying grief.
When he'd seen Dean standing there in the men of letter bunker library, unscaved and very much still alive, that had been a tsunami of emotions; Joy, relief, confusion... bewildering confusion. All crashing in on Castiel in unfathomable intensity. He hadn't been able to grasp so much at once, so as he usually did in times such as these and he had just gone with instinct, knowing he would have time to figure out the reasons later... Only this time, he hadn't. The confusion had only grown as the evening progressed and the instinct, the pull had been unrelenting throughout.
The desire to be close to Dean he'd felt whenever in the hunter's presence had been there for a long time. Stubbornly growing more apparent as the years went by. At first he hadn't understood what those feelings meant. Any sort of human emotion was new and unheard of for Angels, but losing his grace had shown him with crystal clarity the truth behind them and his night with April had taught him there was more to them than a simple attraction, or need for sexual gratification. Despite Dean's fierce aversion to any kind of talk about his emotion, Cas had wanted to be honest, explain everything to him and hope that Dean could give him some level of understanding, though it may have been an awkward conversation, especially considering that Cas was certain that Dean reciprocate those feelings, but had chosen for some unknown reason to ignore them. The next time they had been alone and Dean had asked to talk to him, Cas had assumed that was it. Finally after years of him not understanding and the hunter dodging around the subject, this was it. But instead Dean had asked him to leave. The pain of rejection Cas had felt in that moment was unbearable and made Cas reconsider all he thought he had come to believe.
He had sensed the longing from the hunter from very early on, coming in constant waves, like a prayer, that were impossible to miss, but were possible to ignore. So ignore them he had, always, because Dean did. Dean never commented or acted on those longings, so neither had Cas, but it didn't mean that he didn't feel them, reciprocate them. He had learnt how to feel them from the human, and also how to act accordingly with those feelings. So longing and want was something to be ignored. He understood. Or so he had thought. Before tonight.
Tonight that need for each other that bonded them profoundly, yet distanced them in mutual silent understanding had shattered, exploded and all but consumed the Angel. The internal barrier that had kept those emotions at bay from his constant thoughts, kept them distant, faded, blurred, yet not forgotten, had shattered the moment when Dean's lips found his. An all new consuming rush forced itself to the forefront of Castiel's self, it's overpowering brightness casting every other thought, feeling and most relevantly doubt into shadow. Racking up the volume of his need in a new way that made it impossible to ignore. Completely impossible.
Castiel didn't understand why. It was all too powerful, too overwhelming, too new. A muddled chaos, so confusing and required much deeper thought to process.
xXxXxXx
Dean gently breached wakefulness, feeling warm, relaxed and pleasantly achy. Memories of the night before echoed behind his eyelids and he refused to open them so he could rewatch the highlights in his own private world - The feeling of fullness, full of Cas, the power behind Angel's thrusts and the sight of Cas' face over him, eyes tight, lips parted, teeth clenched as the Angel tensed, growling out an inhuman moan from deep in his chest, completely undone, lost in pleasure.
The mere memory of it caused Deans insides to twitch excitedly. In his wildest fantasies he hadn't imagined anything close to reality.
A smile tugged up his lip, as he reached out, blindly searching for his Angel.
His Angel. Dean liked the thought of that.
Sure, Cas had always been his Angel, in a way, Cas would say Dean was his charge, but now it was more. This wasn't something either of them had been obligated or ordered into, it was their choice, their want and need for each other, and Dean didn't understand why they hadn't done all this years ago.
His questing hand found firm, smooth warmth.
Dean's smile grew wider, he didn't need to open his eyes to work out that, despite the Angel having no need for sleep, Cas had stayed with him all night, and unless what Dean felt was deceiving him, was very much still naked.
Dean wriggled closer, pillowing his head on Cas' shoulder and his eyes suddenly losing all interest in staying closed, the treasures of dreamland paled by the chance for the real thing.
The first thing Dean saw was close up tanned skin that seemed to go on forever. The dips and rises of the Angel's abdomen and pectorals. Beautiful. Perfection. He traced his fingers over the Enochian tattoo below his ribs, curving round his left side, and - Damn how had he not noticed those impressively chiseled hip bones before? 'Probably because my thighs had been wrapped around them'. They looked like they could cut glass.
Feeling like maybe he'd perved over Cas long enough, or maybe too long, Dean turned to look him in the face.
And just like that the blissed tranquility Dean had been experiencing since he woke evaporated, leaving behind only a tight ball of tension in the pit of his stomach.
"Cas?"
Cas looked - there was no other word for it - he looked catatonic. Lips hung loosely parted, lax features, unfocused eyes zoned into nothing over Dean's shoulder. "Cas?"
Dean was up in a flash, kneeling over the Angel. Panic in his braking voice as he shook shoulders, cupped cheeks, pleading. "Cas?... What's wrong? Cas?... Come on man snap out of it!... Cas!"