"You never did much like silence." Castiel yawned a bit as the road seemed to stretch on forever. He was currently referencing Dean's inability to leave the knobs of the radio alone for more than five minutes in a stretch.

"Yeah, well, I've got some mental images in my head that I'd rather not have stuck up there."

"Imagining me naked's not all that bad, Dean."

Dean put his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a way to respond that would bring out another part of Castiel's dirty side. "I'm talking about Sammy."

Castiel looked ahead while he answered. "I knew that. I'm just trying to get you to relax."

"Trying to take advantage of me, Cas?"

Castiel smiled mischievously. "You might want me to. No going back once we get to Detroit."

"I miss you having a moped, Cas."

"When did I have a moped?" Castiel furrowed his brow.

"Figurative. When you were first trying out the cell phone thing."

Castiel nodded to himself. "Yeah. I had to adapt just a bit."

"Did a fine job of it. If I didn't know any better, I never would've guessed you were Michael's lackey once."

Castiel shook his head. "Never worked for him, just for someone higher up that was personally helping the big guy. And hey! I still got morals! I just like to coat them in Percocet and see what happens."

"Cas, you already know whats gonna happen if you take those pills?"

His smile didn't fade but the tone in Castiel's voice changed dramatically. "World's kinda funny that way, Dean."

"Yeah, its kinda funny, its kinda sad. The dreams in which you're dying gotta be the best you ever had."

"REM."

Dean muttered quietly, so as not to break the fog in the car. "I think I miss the days when you didn't get the song lyrics."

Castiel's hand shot out and covered Dean's when Dean reached for the radio knob. "I've heard enough static for one day."

Dean leaned back. "Sorry. I know, drivers rules."

Cas shrugged. "Its okay." I know what its like to not wanna be in your own head.

"No, Cas. I'm really sorry. I dragged you down with me, man."

Castiel licked his lips, trying to weight out the fuzzy words crawling along his brain. "I knew you were gonna be different from the moment we met after I pulled you out of hell. I sometimes just wish you'd never had to have been put in there. It was all too much for you. I should've spoken up earlier, maybe we could've avoided all this mess."

Dean reached over for Castiel's shoulder, speaking gently. "Hey, you didn't know what was going on. They put us all in a tunnel, you, me and Sammy, and we just got ruined is all. But we keep our heads together and there's nothing that we can't find worth fighting for."

Castiel's adams apple bobbed. "Like what? Like friendship or truth? Just look around Dean, I'm a medicated, not enough having the comfort of being fallen angel and you're out there torturing demons looking for your brother who is inhabited by the main demon."

Dean shook his head. "Looking at it that way won't get you anywhere good, man. Didn't I ever tell you that?"

"I surmised it. Your hand is pretty warm, too."

Dean shrugged. "Guess it is? You feeling a chill?"

"Part of the hazard of being a druggie."

Dean started running his hand up and down Castiel's arms. He was hesitant. If what Castiel had said was true, then they had seen each other's bodies pretty intimately before. He was unnerved by the circumstances, hell, he felt downright guilty. He would do anything to make it up to Castiel for the hell he was putting himself through.

"You might want to be careful, Dean. You don't wanna give me the wrong idea."

Dean's voice was heavy in his throat. "I'm not. I just..."

Dean's hand slid into Castiel's free hand. Castiel squeezed it before he realized what he had done. Moving the hand away, Castiel's eyes locked on the road. "Don't say your sorry. Nothing to be sorry for."

Dean's voice lowered. "Everything to be sorry for, Cas. Everything."

"Dean..."

"Shhh. I just got up enough courage to do this."

Dean slid over, Castiel aware of the shift in weight. His hands gripped the wheel as Dean held Castiel, hands running just under his shirt. Castiel's skin had a gummy, pale quality in Dean's hands that reminded him of plaster of paris. Just beneath the ribs though were the start of coarse muscles.

Dean nibbled just a hint on Castiel's neck, sending the ex-angel into a whimper. "You've gotta stop."

"I already broke your heart, Cas. This is the least I can do."

Dean's hands moved their way past the ribcage and down to the belt line. Castiel hissed as Dean's hands groped inside of his quickening bulge. Dean could feel the hard cock and half-full balls. There was a thickness to Castiel's cock that didn't quite match his own. He could feel the veins bulging under the pressure, the rising hardness of the mushroom head that made Castiel jump a touch when a thumb was run over it.

"Dean..."

"Shut up, Cas. I owe you this one."

Dean shifted back a bit to give his mouth a bit of an opening. Castiel's head titled to one side and he groaned quietly when Dean undid his zipper quickly with his teeth. Using his free hand to massage the cock free from its cloth cage, Dean found his head jogging along with the hum of the floorboards as he took Castiel's member in his mouth, already getting slick with pre-cum.

"We can't. We promised...ah."

Castiel tensed, trying hard to concentrate on the road and not the warm mouth pleasuring him in the way females never felt easy doing. Dean was strong, more aggressive, eager to satisfy. Even though Castiel felt he owed him nothing, this Dean was obviously trying to make up for a mistake while creating another very intense one.

Castiel did his best to check his speedometer. He had to try and keep some semblance of driving skills so the rest of the caravan would not get suspicious. Even though, Castiel rightly believed, this Dean would defend such an action. He missed that more than anything, even the selfish motives in the defense when they had been present.

The memories he had been trying to suppress came flooding back as he breathing hardened. Castiel squirmed, trying to give Dean more room. He remembered bad venetian blinds. He remembered searing pain and the sound of moving flesh. He remembered the feeling of humanity, the bruise along his back the next morning. The feeling of emptiness and the first bottle of pills.

But Dean was pretty good about keeping Castiel's head in the unfortunate present. Castiel knuckles turned bone white. He gave a shout right before he came, Dean pulling away just in time to see the geyser of cum begin shooting its first round over Castiel's shirt. Dean moved to block with his hand and it became entrenched in the sticky fibers.

Castiel's body loosened, soft and satisfied. He had been ashamed to admit how grateful he was for that. As much as Dean wanted to talk more, they had just approached the first first welcome sign for Detroit. He only had enough time to wipe off with a gun towel from the back and to tuck Castiel back in. Castiel wanted to hug and hold onto this Dean, but he knew it could never be. That never seemed to be his destiny.