Author's Note: This is a bit smutty mixed with some angst. I'm not a big believer in warnings, unless people comment telling me to do so, then I might change my mind. Until then, dive into some surprises.

"Dean? Are you alright?" Castiel asked. He had come out from Sam's room, who had been feeling sick lately and just fallen asleep. Cas came out with the intention to lower Dean's voice so his sick brother wouldn't wake up.

Dean had just come back from an evening of drinking at a local bar. He wanted to spend some time with his buddies Cap. Morgan and Jack Daniels. After his drinking session, he wobbled to his car and drove it surprisingly well all the way home, even though it was past midnight. Not even the power of alcohol could cause him to scratch his Impala. He leaned his forearm on the doorway and replied, "I...I'm fine, Cas. Just.. Just a bit on the edge... That's all."

The angel took note of Dean's slurred speech and loose body movements, signs that he may have had too many shots of distilled liquid barley. "Can you keep your voice down, please?"

"What for?!"

Castiel shuffled toward the drunk man, pressed his index finger to the drunk mans moist lips and shushed him. "Your brother isn't feeling well," he whispered. "He's sleeping in his room and wishes to not be disturbed."

Dean flashed a toothy grin and giggled. He grabbed his partners wrist and lowered it below his chin. He whispered, "Poor Sicky Sammy. In that case, we need to be extra quiet tonight~" He pulled Cas's hand to his lips and kissed his bony knuckles.

Castiel pulled his hand back quickly. He looked into Dean's disappointed, bright green eyes and said, "Not tonight Dean. I'm too tired for that." In fact, he was exhausted. He had been taking care of Sam the entire day, from making him soup to adding more ice for his ice pack. Even though Sam claimed to be well enough to be independent, the angel stuck with him to make sure he doesn't overwhelm himself. He turned around and walked a few steps back to Sam's room, but stopped when a heavy hand rested on his right shoulder.

Dean forcefully turned the angel back around to face him and wrapped his arms around his neck. The demon hunter then planted rough kisses on the angel's cheek, down to his neck. Castiel tried to gently push him away, but Dean's grip grew stronger the more he tried to wiggle his way out. "But Cas~" He whined.

"Dean. I said no."

Cas felt a sharp pain in his back. Dean had slid his hands under the unsuspecting angel's shirt and dug his nails deep into his bare back. "Cas... Please..."

The sweet, pungent smell of alcohol filled the angel's nose, but Dean's kisses felt aggressive and he had begun to bite on his collar bone. The longer Castiel delayed his answer, the deeper the agitated man dug his nails. Pretty soon blood would have been shed. Again...

He knew that there was no stopping the drunk man once he was in the mood. He sighed, "Is it that bad?"

In-between kisses, he muttered, "Yeah... It's really, really bad... It might be hard for me... To hold back tonight." He continued to kiss his neck as he started to undo his blue tie.

The angel stopped fighting back. His arms fell to his side and he relaxed his muscles. "Go all out if you must."

Dean grabbed Castiel's thighs tightly and pulled them up above his hips. The drunk demon hunter carried him as they made their way to his bedroom. After he closed the door behind him, he sat the angel on the edge of the bed and knelt down on the in-between his thighs. Dean hastily unbuckled the angel's belt and slid his hand up and down his member.

With his adjusted night vision, Castiel looked down to observe the horny man's appearance. The bottom of his eye were tinted with red and slight hues of purple. He could see that the demon hunter was on the edge for some reason as his hands trembled slightly and he bit down on his lip.

When Castiel's piece was lubricated, Dean lowered his head and sucked on it. Even though he swallowed, some of it found it's way to his cheeks and sides of his lip. He looked up at the angel and placed a kiss on his lips. Suddenly, Dean grabbed both of his wrists and pinned his hands together above his head on the bed. His wrists were in pain when Dean had dug his nails into them. With the angel restrained, Dean slid his free hand down the side of his waist to his hip as he continued to steal sloppy kisses from his partner, he seemed almost hungry for his lips. Dean pulled down his zipper and slid his hand up and down his own member. His semen squirted onto Cas's bare stomach. He then thrusted his piece into the angel. Cas gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. The pain caused his head to feel as though it were spinning. The air got hotter as he into thrusted himself against Castiel's hips, who remained unresponsive.

"Cas..." The lustful man as he parted lips with the angel.

Suddenly, what seemed like drops of sweat fell onto Cas's face and rolled down the side of his face. But was it really sweat?

Through his heavy breaths, he muttered shakily, "I love you, Cas."

The angel didn't reply, neither did he open his eyes. The way he said that statement was extremely dry and gravelly, almost like a forceful choke, rather than it coming from the heart. Castiel didn't feel the same toward him when they copulated. It was extremely painful for his end, both mentally and physically. So much so, that he had to hold back his tears in fear that it would aggravate Dean. But he endured it for his friend. He would do anything to make Dean happy, even if it means he had to suffer doing so.

Dean lowered his head closer to his partner's and smashed his lips against Cas's. He made no effort to kiss Dean back, but it didn't matter. Dean managed to slide his tongue inside his mouth. He moaned deeper and a bit louder into his mouth as he climaxed inside of the angel.

Castiel opened his eyes and starred up at the grey ceiling as Dean fell on his left side on the bed. He looked to his side and met with eyes of a tearful man. His glassy, bright green eyes that were filled with water. Dean grabbed the emotionless man's hand and pulled it toward his cheek. "I'm sorry," he muttered in a brittle tone.

Castiel's entire body ached. He wondered what he meant in the eyes of his partner. Was he a man for comfort? A lover? Or a mere item for Dean to "relieve" himself? From what it looks like, it seemed that the angel was simply a toy for the demon hunter to dump all of his stress onto. If anything seemed that if anything it only worsened Dean's problems. He could see the guilt in his baggy, crystallized eyes. The way he avoided eye contact whenever they met and the shame in his narrowed eyes and curled lips. Why doesn't he talk about his feelings? Even though the angel admits that he is not the best when it comes to giving therapeutic talks, it sure is a lot better than having regretful, meaningless sex.

The angel softly placed his free hand on the brunette's messy head and pulled him softy to his bare chest, where the demon hunter sobbed. This is the type of stress reliever that Cas believed would help his friend more. But it seems that it wouldn't happen anytime soon. The angel embraced the sobbing man until he fell asleep, only to wake up as though nothing had happened. Like he always did.