The first time he saw Cas smile was an ordinary day for a hunter. They were on an ordinary park bench watching ordinary children at play. The smile was only there for a few seconds, and it wasn't directed at Dean. It was just a smile, a nod at his hands in his lap, and then it was gone again and they were talking business. It shouldn't have stuck in Dean's memory. Really, he hadn't even realized he had remembered it until that moment.

With the demon's fist around his throat. The breath was trapped in his lungs, and the woman with the monster inside was straddling him not in the fun way. His knife was gone, far out of reach, and he had no means of defense. A headache was pounding, pulsing through his skull like an emergency alarm. Shadows were swishing like demon smoke at the edges of his vision, and his straining, flapping hands were growing weaker by the second. The demon lady's face slashed with a wicked grin, but all Dean saw behind his eyes was the silhouette of Castiel's face and the slight smile on his lips.

I wish I could see him one more time.

The will to move, to struggle, to breathe, was leaving his body. His eyes turned helplessly to Sammy, unconscious on the floor across the room. He grit his teeth and let his eyes wander upwards towards the demon and past her, sightlessly. His hands twitched, his eyelids rolled shut, and the last slippery thought that whispered its way through his mind was… Cas.

White light erupted in his vision, and the ringing in his ears was overwrought with the shrieking of a woman. All at once, his body was inhaling great chunks of air, and he was choking and hacking and protectively curling his hand around his aching throat. Fuzzy shapes formed in his vision, blurry through the streaming tears. A familiar silhouette came towards him and hunkered beside him. Fingers brushed against his skin, and a coolness glazed across his body like water. Instantly, the pain in his neck and the fogginess of his vision were gone and the hoarse and harshness of his breathing eased. He blinked his eyes up at the figure before him. "Cas?" he hissed.

The angel didn't speak at first, watching him instead with downturned lips and a crease between the eyebrows. He was crouched beside Dean, his hair in its usual ruffle, his eyes their normal inquisitive cobalt. Wait, "normal"? Normal? The word struck Dean as ridiculous in its reference to Castiel. He was anything but normal.

God, he was perfect.

"You should have called me sooner," Cas murmured.

Dean blinked as the angel rose to his feet. "Called? I didn't call you."

He turned around without replying and crossed to where Sammy lay sprawled across some books he'd knocked from a shelf when he was thrown against the wall. "You prayed 'Cas,'" he clarified. "That was enough." Again Castiel knelt, and again he laid his healing hand on a Winchester. Dean watched, feeling very scared and having no damn idea why. It wasn't Sammy. Sammy had taken worse hits, and now that Cas was here, there was no doubt in Dean's mind he'd be alright. But Dean couldn't seem to shake the fear, and he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from Castiel. He followed the hand that reached out, noted the haze of stubble on his jaw, studied the perfect imperfection of his floppy hair. Remembered that smile, that very first smile on the bench at the park, and wondering how many times since he'd tried to earn another.

No, the fear he was feeling was definitely not about Sammy.

Cas straightened. "He's going to be fine. He just had the wind knocked out of him. Should wake up in an hour or so."

Turning back, he stood over Dean, and offered him a hand. The hunter took it with gratitude, letting Castiel pull him to his feet. The action drew them unexpectedly close, and the twilight splashed through the window, shining over Cas' eyes and highlighting the mix of anger and concern resonating on his face. Dean forgot how to breathe, and their gripping hands remained laced for a silent stretch of seconds too long to be natural.

A tiny sliver of dark on Cas' cheekbone caught Dean's attention, and without thinking, his hand came up, palm settling on Castiel's cheek, thumb brushing at the fallen eyelash. A startled look crinkled Cas' eyes. And then, knocking Dean's hand away, he took a quick step back.

Hurt rose unbidden in Dean's chest before he could try to tamp it down. Dammit. His hand curled closed in the air before he let it drop to his side, and he cleared his throat, looking away.

"Why didn't you call me?" Cas demanded.

Dean blinked. "It was just a few demons," he answered. "It shouldn't have been a problem for Sammy and me."

"Clearly, it was a little more than that." Cas gestured at the bodies around the room, demons he and his brother had killed before Cas arrived.

"Yeah," Dean raised a hand helplessly. "They took us by surprise. It wasn't the first time. Why are you upset?"

"Why am I-?" Cas broke himself off, scrutinizing Dean as if that were the most absurd question he had ever heard. "Why am I upset?" he repeated. "I'll tell you why I'm upset." His eyes flashing, the angry angel stepped forward, sweeping his hand through the air and shouting, "You would have died!" Startled, Dean stumbled back a step, but his foot caught on something and instantly he lost his balance. His eyes going wide, he threw out his hands to grab on anything for purchase. With a grunt, he went down, his back hitting the floor, his head pounding, his teeth grit with pain. A groan slipped between his clenched teeth, his head throbbing. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed, aloud this time. A shadow fell over his eyelids, and two fingers touched his forehead. The pain ebbed to nothing, and that's when he realized he had managed to grab hold of something as he fell. The silky feel of it was still clutched tight in his hand. A breath stirred a hair on his forehead, and with horror, his eyes flew open.

Cas was hovering above him. His hands and knees spread to either side of Dean's body. The tie around his throat gripped tight in Dean's fist. "Dammit, Cas, I didn't mean to do that!" he said, a heat that wasn't entirely embarrassment creeping up his neck.

Cas' angel blue eyes were… looking at him and were… mesmerizing. The grip of his knees to either side of Dean's body, the rebellious twift of hair settled on his forehead were doing strange things to Dean's stomach.

The fear returned in waves.

"I was not harmed," Cas murmured quietly.

Dean couldn't seem to find his tongue.

"Forgive me," he continued, "for yelling." His gaze flicked away, and Dean twitched, trying to catch it again. Shaking his head the merest bit the angel said, "I was just worried. I… would be very unhappy if you were to die, Dean Winchester."

His eyes returned. The grip Dean had on his tie curled minutely tighter. "You're forgiven," Dean whispered. "Am I?"

Castiel tilted his head. "Dean…" he said. Just the one word. Grated in his usual voice, except this time it carried, There is nothing to forgive, along with it. Dean sucked the smallest wedge of his lower lip between his teeth and bit down. His head was loud with noise, but none of it coherent. He stared at Castiel's lips, parted still the smallest fraction. He shouldn't be noticing, shouldn't be here with Cas' tie curled in his fist. He should let go. Instead, he yanked down. The angel inhaled a breath of must and gunpowder and probably whatever the hell else Dean smelled like, and then their mouths connected.

Shock. A shiver quavered through Dean's belly, and Cas pressed down, kissing back, lips melding, twisting. Dean didn't know what the hell he was doing, but, oh, the feel of Cas kissing him, the taste of his lips were like nothing he had felt before. Dean's hand buried in the lapels of that damn trenchcoat, as if the grip he had on his tie wasn't tight enough. His neck lifted off the ground, needing to be closer, harder. Some small sound reverberated in Castiel's chest when their tongues pressed together, and the world tilted. His head fell back against the hard stone floor, and it took everything Dean possessed not to shudder like some chick after her first French kiss. The problem was the sight before him when he opened his eyes. Cas. His face flush, his lips parted, his eyelashes long and dark against pale skin.

Dean managed to hold himself together for a solid five seconds. After that, all bets were off, and he was pushing, not pulling, meeting Cas' lips while his body moved, twisted, somersaulting, until the angel lay beneath him and Dean straddled him above. He grinned against angel lips, and then a hand touched his neck. Arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers sliding into his hair, and the smile dropped. A throaty, groany growl Dean hadn't meant to make worked its way up his throat, and he didn't even feel bothered by it because this was… this was more than he ever thought… ever thought he'd get to have. This was madness. Really, really good madness, and the achey mess of feelings colonizing his stomach were welcome to stay if this… if this was really real, if Cas was kissing him and holding him and…

Dean's mouth trailed down. First to a chin rough with bristles, scratchy beneath his palm and weirdly freakin' good. And then up the line of a jaw, slowly, drunkenly. He found a space just behind an ear and paused there, his breathing labored, his lips moist. The scent of Castiel's hair, of clean linen and the slight tang of sweat, was heady and eminently addictive. He buried his nose deeper. Breathed him in.

"Dean," the sound of the angel's gruff voice, rougher even than usual, distracted him from his hazy, crazy thoughts.

"Yeah?" Dean asked, a coarse whisper.

The fingers in his hair trembled, sliding through it before settling on the place where his neck met his back. "Promise me… next time… you'll pray before the battle."

Dean smile against skin, kissing Cas' hair twice. "I dunno, Cas. I'm of the mind to ask forgiveness rather than permission." He kissed his delicate flesh right there by his ear.

Fingernails scraped into his neck, and a shiver quivered through his muscles. "Dean."

"I promise," he whispered immediately.

"Thank you."

He pulled up, and his green-eyed gaze slid to that of the angel's. The look on his face was almost too much—fogged and delirious and adoring. It made him crazy. An unavoidable smile broke across his face, and he bit the inside of his cheek to try to contain it.

"Is this ok?" he croaked, just to make sure, just to be certain.

"Dean… This is perfect."

He was sinking down for a kiss before he realized. His left hand caressed Cas' cheek, his thumb grazing his face in soft sweeps. They inhaled between kisses and all immediate thought faded.

Until a sound like a pained groan came from behind them and startled their lips apart. Sammy. "I thought you said he wouldn't wake for an hour or more," Dean grunted.

"Clearly I underestimated the vitality of the Winchesters."

Thoughts slipped to innuendo, and Dean's eyebrows quirked. "You won't make that mistake again," he promised. It took a great deal of effort to ground his thoughts, and the kiss he pressed into Castiel's lips didn't help. But Sam groaned again, and Dean mimicked it before rising, gripping Cas' forearm and dragging him up with him. He helped Cas dust off his beloved jacket, which earned him a smile that made his heart skip, before clearing his throat and doing the same to his jeans.

He knelt beside his brother. "How ya feelin', buddy?"

The giant cracked his eyes open gingerly at the sound of Dean's voice and sighed, touching his head. "Not so bad, honestly. Better than I would have expected."

Dean glanced at the healing angel standing beside him with darkened lips and hid a smile. "You've got Cas to thank for that."

"Oh?" Sammy glanced up as Dean hauled him to his feet. "Thanks, Cas."

"No problem," the angel answered stoically.

"Alright then…" Sammy muttered, glancing around the space. "Are we done here?"

"Yeah," Dean said. "Cas took out the last one. Why don't we get outta here." He glanced at them both. "How does pie sound?"

Sam nodded. "Sure, I could go for pie."

"Alright, then." Dean grinned, grabbing Cas' hand and lacing their fingers together. The angel looked at him with a surprised smile, and Sammy looked at both of them with pure astonishment, his eyebrows rising.

Dean smirked. "Let's go get that pie."