A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read so far, whether you've commented or not - this project was an odd undertaking and I wasn't sure anyone would like it.
DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction using characters from the Supernatural universe. I do not claim any ownership. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).
The kiss between Dean and Castiel seemed to go on forever. Dean did not want to release the lips captured by his own. He reveled in the hard texture of teeth, the soft yielding of the tongue, the firm smoothness of the roof of Castiel's mouth – and he knew Castiel was exploring the same in his own. A soft groan echoed between them but Dean wasn't sure who uttered it. It didn't matter.
Castiel willingly sank down with Dean beside the fire. He wasn't sure how long they'd been kissing but he truly did not care. For all the things he'd experienced in his life on Earth, Castiel knew he would count this as one of the best. His heart was pounding in his chest and his breath came in short gasps when they finally separated. The ground was hard and uncomfortable beneath him and the air was growing colder. Still, Castiel knew he would never trade this moment for any other.
"Are you truly here, Cas?" Dean asked hoarsely, his hazel eyes studying Castiel's blue ones.
Castiel kissed Dean softly. "I am here, Dean. This moment is ours ... ours alone."
Dean felt his chest tighten at the words. He'd shared his bed with women and men before everything had gone so wrong. He'd rolled in silken sheets with beautiful bodies. He'd tasted more lovers than he wanted to remember and none of them meant anything compared to this moment. They had no soft bed to lay in and there would be no time to caress and whisper soft words after but Dean had never desired anything more than the lithe body beneath his own. Castiel tasted better than any fine wine. His skin was rough from his life on the streets of Aquila and his muscles hard from living hand to mouth but Dean could sense a fragility to it all. There was something behind the hard facade of the man named for an angel ... and Dean wanted to know that part of him. More surprising, Dean found himself wanting to show Castiel what lay behind his own emotional armor. He wanted Castiel to see the true Dean Winchester that he kept carefully hidden from everyone – not even Sam knew this part of him.
Castiel's hand drifted along Dean's chest, pushing its way into his shirt, finding the smooth skin beneath. He smiled when Dean inhaled sharply. Castiel had known a few lovers in his time but the couplings had been simply for physical pleasure ... there had been no emotional attachment. This was far different – he wanted Dean with everything in him and he did not want to relinquish him when all was done. He wanted to see every sunrise with this man and, eventually, every sunset. Castiel realized he wanted Dean to know everything about himself. He wondered if that would be more than any man should know but Castiel refused to believe they had been brought together for no purpose.
"Cas ... we have no time ..." Dean groaned as Castiel's hands drifted over him.
"I know, Dean ... I know ... just – please ..." Castiel gasped. He pushed against Dean's body with his hips, groaning when their very obvious arousal brushed against one another.
Dean's hands were suddenly working at his own belt and he'd freed himself in a moment. Castiel followed suit and Dean pulled off his gloves to be able to touch the other man. The cold air made them both suck in a harsh breath, but Dean pressed them as close together as he could to create a small cocoon of warmth. He clutched Castiel's shoulders, pulling the lips he was beginning to crave to him again for another taste.
"Cas ..." Dean breathed as their bodies pressed and strained against one another. "Dean – I – oh god, Dean!" Castiel bucked against Dean as he lost control
The hot slickness that spilled over onto Dean sent him over the edge with Castiel. He growled his release against Castiel's shoulder and for a long moment rode the aftershocks. He could feel Castiel's body moving erratically beneath him as he drifted in the same heady waves.
After a few minutes, the two rolled apart, wincing at the shock of cold again. Dean stared up at the brilliant blue sky and mused on how much it reminded him of Castiel's eyes. He turned his head to look at his companion. The blue eyes he'd been pondering were regarding him softly.
"I am glad we met, Cas ... even if the circumstances are less than ideal," Dean said quietly.
"Since it brought me to you, I can't complain overly much about the circumstances, Dean." Castiel said with a faint smile.
After they'd cleaned up, Dean and Castiel set about eating breakfast and packing up the camp. Dean heard the hawk calling and looked for it. He spotted the long wings moving through the air as the hawk flew over a small pond. The raptor skimmed close to the water, its wingtips just brushing the surface on every downward flap. Dean smiled sadly as he watched. He remembered nothing of the times he was a wolf and he assumed Sam remembered nothing of his moments as a hawk. However, the sight reminded Dean of Sam – he could see his little brother playing in such a manner – showing off for his older sibling. Dean's eyes glistened with emotion.
The moment ended when he heard the wooden cart come trundling toward them. He paused in drawing his sword when he realized it was Singer. Dean ignored the old man and mounted Impala with the hawk settled onto his arm. He looked down as the monk lifted his arms in frustration.
"On your way to kill his Grace – why must you be so stubborn and not listen to me?" Bobby said helplessly. "In two days you can face the bishop together in the cathedral with Samuel at your side – and you will break the curse!"
"I will be in Aquila tomorrow, Singer and one way or another there will finally be an end to it." Dean said somberly.
"Dean ... one day, more or less ... what could it matter?" Castiel asked.
The look of surprise and then hurt that slid across Dean's face would haunt Castiel's dreams. The mask fell into place again and Castiel wanted to take back the words and deny it all. Dean's hazel eyes were flat and cold now when they regarded Castiel. The thief quailed inside – the realization that Dean was closing himself off again hurt worse than Castiel could have ever imagined.
"You too, Cas? Fine ... I warned you," Dean tugged on Impala's reigns. "Stay here with this old drunk."
"No!" Castiel pleaded. "I'm coming with you – how will you get back into the cathedral without me?"
Dean turned away even as the hawk squawked unhappily. "It's not your concern anymore, Castiel. I'll get in – without your help."
Guiding his mount away, Dean nudged Impala into a ground-eating gallop. Castiel watched miserably as the man he'd fallen in love with rode away without a glance back. Singer came up beside Castiel and put an arm companionably around the young man's shoulders.
"Thank you for trying, Castiel. Thank you for speaking up for what is right," the monk said.
Castiel worried his lower lip trying very hard not to let the tears building up fall. "I should have known better," Castiel said hoarsely. "Every happy moment since my life began here has come from lying."
Dean rode away from Castiel with his heart broken in his chest. He'd trusted where he never should have – again. He'd been betrayed by someone he loved – again. "I never learn, do I, Sammy?"
The hawk remained oddly silent as they rode across the foothills toward Aquila. If the bird noticed the tears sliding down Dean's face, it made no sound.