Cas woke from a pleasant dream he couldn't quite remember and rolled over, yawning sleepily. He froze when he caught sight of Dean sleeping in bed next to him. He stared, transfixed by his beauty. His hunter looked so innocent in his slumber, his face smooth and unlined, lips swollen and slightly parted. It should be illegal to be that gorgeous. Dean put even Lucifer to shame, and he was the most beautiful of God's angels. Looking at the way Dean's hair stuck up and fell over his forehead, at the dusting of freckles sprinkled on his cheekbones, Cas was filled with awe that this man belonged to him. He couldn't resist pressing a reverent kiss to his soft, sweet lips.

The first thing Dean felt as he rose through the fog of sleep was warm pressure against his mouth. His eyes opened in surprise and his vision was full of Castiel. All he could see of his angel was his eyes; they were closed, long lashes casting shadows across his defined cheekbones as he kissed him sweetly in the first light of the dawn. Electricity jolted through his blood, leaving fire in its wake. Dean let out a moan and eagerly returned the kiss; it was sloppy and sweet and without a doubt the hottest kiss of his life. The fact that it was Cas, his Cas, kissing him made it a hundred times better. Their tongues twined together in a sensual dance as Dean wrapped a strong arm around Cas' waist and pulled him close. The angel's fingers tangled in Dean's short hair and tugged gently as the hunter's free hand traced Cas' face, worshiping him with his touch.

Cas was awash in a sea of sensation. So many feelings were rushing through his body at once; he didn't recognize them all, but each one was exhilarating and wonderful. He knew Dean was letting him decide how far their physical relationship would go. They had always been interrupted until now. Well, Cas was done with that; his body was burning, and he needed Dean to soothe it. He wasn't sure exactly what to do, but he had a general idea. He took the hand that was resting gently on Dean's chest and trailed it lower, tracing the muscles of his toned stomach and then lower, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his cotton boxers.

Dean felt Cas' large hand wrap firmly around his cock, making him shudder as sparks shot throughout his body. He opened his eyes and looked at Cas; his cobalt eyes were dark with desire, and ringed with thick, long lashes. His lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, hair mussed up. The combination of innocence and raw sexuality on his angel's face took his breath away. Then Cas moved his hand, stroking up the shaft and Dean let his head drop back to the pillows as a stream of profanity escaped his lips. He reached out to Cas, one hand tracing his face, the other gripping his protruding hipbone.

Cas' face was flushed, his eyes wild as Dean slipped his hand into his angel's boxers and touched him. When he felt Dean's large hand wrap around his girth and begin moving, he let out a strangled moan; it was unlike anything he had ever imagined. Dean touching him was like fire and ice burning his skin, like the galaxy was imploding around him, like time stopping. There was nothing like it. Molten fire raced through his veins in an inferno he couldn't control. He started moving his hand in time with Dean's. When Dean ran a finger across his slit, he shuddered and did the same thing, letting the hunter teach him what to do with his touch. He watched, fascinated as Dean shivered and buried his face in Cas' shoulder. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Dean was so big in his hand; he could barely get his fingers closed around him.

Dean's hands found the waistband of his angel's boxers and pulled them down his legs, carelessly tossing them aside; his own followed close after. He kissed Cas deeply, slipping his tongue into his mouth. He tasted sweet, wild, and clean, like honeysuckle; it was intoxicating. Dean sat up in the bed, never breaking the kiss and hauled Cas up with him. He rested in a sitting position, back against the headboard and guided Cas into his lap so he was straddling him. Cas attacked Dean's mouth and neck savagely, kissing every inch of skin he could reach, tugging his silky hair in his hands as the hunter wrapped a large hand around their combined girths and began to stroke.

Dean gasped at the feeling of Castiel's fingers twisting in his hair. The sensation of their cocks sliding together was going to kill him. It was so intense; there was no way he was going to last long, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Cas looked as if he was coming apart at the seams, head thrown back, throat working as he swallowed, face flushed. Dean stroked them faster, electricity shooting through his limbs, charged and heavy. Cas began to tremble and Dean wrapped his free arm around his waist, rubbing the sweat slicked skin of his back soothingly. Cas reached out and closed his hand over his mark on Dean's arm.

"Cas," Dean moaned.

His head smacked into the wall as he threw it back. His arm burned at the touch, like it was a point where their souls could touch as freely as their bodies were touching.

Cas was gasping, "Dean. Dean, please."

He didn't even know what he was asking for, but he knew he needed it; he would die without it. Something was building deep inside of him. He was on the edge, so close. Dean moved his hand faster around them, unable to close it completely around their combined width. Cas moved his free hand down and held his hand around Dean's, helping. Castiel looked deep into the eyes of his hunter, green and smoldering, asking, wanting.

"Please, Cas," Dean's voice was deep and wrecked and Cas was lost. He was close to the edge of a cliff, about to sail over. Then Dean kissed him, slow and deep and he was undone. His last thought before his orgasm ripped him to shreds was, 'This was worth falling for.'

Then he was incoherent, calling out Dean's name as ecstasy burst through his body, shattering him to pieces. He was falling through time and space and it was unlike anything Cas had experienced. Better than flying, better than the swirl of his grace inside of him; it didn't even come close. He shuddered as he came, white ropes shooting into the space between their moving bodies; it was paradise on earth.

Dean groaned and planted wet, desperate kisses into his angel's neck, sucking and leaving hickeys in his wake. Cas was still coming, chanting, "Dean, Dean, Dean," over and over like it was a prayer. That was all it took for Dean to join his angel. He cried out as his orgasm hit him like a freight train, punching all the air from his lungs. He was free falling through the air, burning like he was flying next to the sun. They stilled and held onto one and other as they came down, shivering as they worked through the aftershocks. Cas rested his forehead against Dean's and looked into his eyes, sapphire blue meeting mossy green. The angel moved and gently kissed Dean's forehead. "Good morning," he murmured.

Dean laughed happily. Cas tilted his head smiling, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Good morning yourself," Dean said, still snickering.

"You know what happens to men who laugh at former celestial beings?" asked Cas seriously.

"Nope."

Cas leaned forward and whispered in Dean's ear, "The most fearsome wrath of Heaven descends upon that man."

Without warning, Cas pushed Dean flat on his back, pinning his hands with his knees and began to tickle him mercilessly. Dean laughed and struggled, but not too hard; he was watching the way his angel's hair stuck up in every direction, and the way his sparkling blue eyes crinkled with happiness and glee. When Dean's sides hurt and he had tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks, he rolled, reversing the position so Cas was on his back. He squirmed and chortled as Dean flexed and wiggled his fingers menacingly over his belly. Cas' laughter sounded happy and beautiful like the sweetest song ever sung, and Dean couldn't resist. He kissed his angel sweetly and Cas returned the kiss, slow and deep. They would have to get out of bed and clean up soon, but for now Dean was content to kiss his angel as the sun rose completely and painted their body with stripes of soft light through the shutters.

Dean grunted as he heaved another shovel full of dirt out of the grave they were digging and flung it over his shoulder. Sam was laboring by his side, covered in sweat and dirt just like him. The hole was still shallow, only knee deep.

They were laughing and joking like they hadn't in years. What happened in the church had to be one of the best things that had ever happened to Dean; it had brought he and Sammy closer together. There was no more hurt between them; only forgiveness and love. Dean tuned back in to what Sam was saying.

"I stand by what I said, Dean. Jet Li could kick Chuck Norris' ass. No contest."

Dean snorted in disdain. "And I stand by what I said, Sammy. It's not about skill and fancy Kung Fu moves; it's about who's the bigger badass. Chuck Norris could destroy Jet Li, and there would be explosions in the background too. Big ones."

Sam scoffed and lightly punched his brother's arm. Dean punched him back and soon they were laughing and roughhousing in the dirt like they were kids again. Dean trapped Sam in a headlock and mussed up his overlong hair. Sam took advantage of his position and poked Dean in the ribs where he knew he was ticklish. They fell to the ground, laughing and wrestling.

It may be weird to normal people that they were horsing around in a mass grave dug for the bodies of demons, but it wasn't weird to them. They weren't exactly normal anyway. They play fought like children until they were tired and covered in dirt, then they just lay together, side by side and watched the clouds moving overhead, just like they used to watch the stars at night from Baby's hood. The world may be almost ending again, but Dean believed, in that moment, that everything was going to be okay. He had Cas, and he had his Sammy. He had a real home, and he would be damned if he would give up without a fight. Dean touched the amulet around his neck and smiled. He had faith now. Faith in himself, in Sam, and in Cas. Everything was going to be fine.

Cas sat in the infirmary with Crowley, watching over an unconscious Joshua. Crowley looked relaxed and more at peace than he had since his transformation from demon to human. Cas stood, picked up a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton balls, and began to clean the gashes on Joshua's face, lost in thought.

"Crowley," he said quietly.

"Yeah, Cas. What is it?"

"Are you sure? About the trials?"

Crowley was quiet for a while, looking out the window. Cas began to think he wouldn't answer, but he finally said, "Look out the window, Cas."

Castiel walked over and looked out into the sunshine. He saw Sam and Dean wrestling around in the still shallow grave they were digging. They were laughing, happy. It made Cas' heart swell with joy.

"That's why I'm sure, Castiel. That's why I'm doing this; for them."

Cas tilted his head to the side, a questioning look on his face. Crowley sighed.

"Those boys gave me my humanity back. I've hurt their friends and done my damnedest to kill them on more than one occasion, and they still took me in."

Crowley had a faraway look in his eyes as he continued.

"They gave me a chance when most other people would have just killed me. They stopped the apocalypse and the Leviathan and saved the lives of every person in the world. They are good at the deepest level of their beings. I'm not, but I have the chance to be good."

He took spoke with utter conviction and surety.

"This is atonement, and if I don't do it, who will? One of them will end up sacrificing themselves for the greater good, and they don't deserve to have to do it again. They don't have to carry the world on their shoulders alone. They've given enough. I can do this. I want to do this for them, so they don't have to."

Castiel looked out the window and watched Dean muss Sam's hair up, a big smile on his face. A million memories flashed through his head at once: Sam and Dean, laughing, crying, fighting, playing, bleeding, and sleeping. A million images of brotherly love and peace and conflict. He remembered it all, from cataclysmic events like pulling Dean from Hell and Sam jumping in the pit, to simple things like arguing over movies and drinking together in bars. He remembered, and he knew deep in his bones that Crowley was right.

He took a deep breath and said, "They have given enough… But you are my friend, and I don't want you to go," Crowley looked surprised and pleased as Cas lay his hand on the former demon's shoulder. "But I understand, and I will be there for you until the end, my friend if this is what you want."

"Thanks, Cas," said Crowley quietly.

Cas acted on impulse and hugged the former demon tightly. Crowley hesitated for a second before returning the embrace. They held it for a few moments before pulling away, holding each other at arm's length. Cas was embarrassed by the display of emotion, so he mimicked Dean.

"Uh, let's roll credits on this chick flick before we grow female gentiles."

Crowley looked bemused for a moment before roaring in laughter. "You've been spending too much time with Dean, angel."

"Not an angel, Crowley."

"And you're okay with that?" asked the former demon.

Cas thought about this this morning with Dean, about how amazing it had been. A huge grin split across his face. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."

Sam, Dean, Cas, and Kevin all sat around the tables in the Men of Letters library. Sam was on his laptop; everyone else was digging in books trying to find some sign of a crossroads deal that was about to come due. This trial wasn't easy for them the first time around. In fact, it had been a fiasco trying to find who the hell hound was targeting. They wanted something a little easier this time, but so far they had found no sign of a deal.

Crowley came strolling through the door. "What are you lot doing?" he asked, leaning against the frame with one shoulder.

"Looking for a deal so you can kill the hell hound," said Kevin, turning the page of a dusty tome.

Crowley started laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Sam.

The former demon tilted his head. "Did you forget that I was King of the Crossroads, Moose?" I know every deal ever made and their due dates. It's seared into my brain."

The others gaped in irritation. "You mean to tell me," said Dean, "that we spent the last four hours researching for nothing?"

"Precisely," said Crowley. Dean chucked his book at Crowley's head; he dodged it deftly, laughing again.

"Goddamn it," muttered Dean, disgruntled. Cas slipped his hand into the hunter's and squeezed, smiling brightly. Dean couldn't stay irritated when Cas smiled like that. He found himself grinning against his will.

"So," said Cas, "any ideas about where we're going?"

"Yes," said Crowley, "Donald McKiernan, age 36 in Kansas City, Missouri. His bill comes due in two days' time."

"What'd he sell his soul for?" asked Dean

"His little sister was gunned down in the crossfire of a drive by shooting. She was only six years old. He sold his soul to bring her back and make everyone forget she had died."

Dean looked at Sam and felt his heart drop into his stomach. He remembered the raw horror when Sam had died and his desperation when he sold his soul for him. He found that he didn't blame this man at all for what he did. Cas squeezed his hand tighter as if he knew exactly what Dean was remembering. He rubbed soothing circles onto the back with his thumb and Dean leaned closer to his angel, thanking him with his touch.

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow," said Crowley, "we need to gather up some supplies. Goofer dust, salt, and we need some of those eye glasses that you used."

"We still have them," said Dean.

"Okay," said Crowley, "Sam and I will go for the goofer dust. Kevin, you're on salt duty. Dean, you and Cas find the glasses. Let's go."

Everyone split up to their rooms, preparing to leave. Dean and Cas exchanged a look; Crowley barking orders was kind of funny. Hands still joined, they headed to the storage room where they had stowed the glasses after the first trial. When they made it in the room, Cas abruptly spun Dean around, pinning him to the storage cabinet. Their lips crashed together. Dean was taken aback, but kissed his angel back enthusiastically. Cas murmured against Dean's lips, "We've been busy all day. I missed you."

Dean whispered, "Me too, Cas." His hands trailed down his angel's back to his waist, pulling him close. Their lips met again, kissing roughly, tongues swirling together in a carnal dance. Dean suddenly pulled Cas flush to his body, grinding their cocks together through the thick fabric. Cas was on fire; he let his hands wander lower, grabbing Dean's muscular ass in his hands, squeezing, using the leverage to start a rhythm.

Dean groaned and pushed his hands under Cas' shirt, feeling the bare skin. Cas ground into him harder and Dean involuntarily raked his nails down the angel's back. Cas let out a choked noise at the sensation. Dean grinned and did it again. Castiel growled and started biting and sucking the hunter's neck. Dean wanted more; he started to pull his angel's Doctor Who t-shirt off when a loud banging sounded on the door. Both men let out a loud groan of frustration. Dean put a hand on the back of Castiel's neck and pulled him close, resting their foreheads together.

"If I could, I would smite whoever that is. We're always getting interrupted," Cas growled indignantly.

Dean smiled sweetly, nuzzling into his neck gently. Cas shivered as his hunter's stubble dragged over his skin. "We'll pick this up later, angel."

Cas frowned. "Not an angel, Dean."

Dean planted a soft kiss on his lips. "You'll always be my angel, Cas."

Castiel's smile was blinding. They straightened themselves out and went to the front of the bunker as another loud knock echoed against the walls. They both grabbed shotguns off the wall as a precaution and approached the entrance. Dean started talking as he opened the door.

"Yeah, yeah, hold on a se-"

As the door swung open, Dean stopped short, mouth open in shock. There, standing on their doorstep, was Death. He was slurping a Big Gulp noisily and holding a stack of pizza boxes. Death smiled slightly nodding at them. "Hello, Dean."

What the hell?