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A Dean/Castiel fic.

Chapter Two.

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Disclaimer: See Ch. 1.

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A/N: Well, I was ego-stroked into writing this fic, lol. Well, Nyah86, I hope you like it. I wouldn't have written it otherwise.

Basically, this is the same scene from the last chapter, but from Dean's POV.

I hope you guys like this fic, I know I'll love writing it!

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

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They were catching supper in a diner a couple blocks away from the motel they'd be staying at that night, and Dean was battling back and forth with his brother over the sleeping situation. For the last few weeks, they'd been sharing a room, all three of them. It was the safest way to sleep, Dean had argued, as Castiel wasn't used to his own mortality, and he didn't trust anyone but himself to keep him safe. Not that he would admit that last bit.

After Castiel had come back, everything that he'd been denying to himself, everything that he hadn't wanted to believe ... it had all hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't deny his feelings for the ex-angel anymore, but he wouldn't let himself act on them. Being human was hard enough for Castiel, he shouldn't have to deal with Dean's issues on top of that. Then there was also the fact that Dean didn't believe in a hundred years that Castiel would ever return his affections. So he kept his distance, he pulled away from Castiel. He did everything he could to make sure that he was never in a position where he might lose control of himself with the now-human.

And so, he argued with Sam, trying not to let it show how desperately he didn't want to be alone with Castiel.

"I'm sick of hashing this out with you, Sam," he said with a strong, determined voice.

"And I'm sick of all the looks we get when we book one room for three guys," his annoying brother retorted.

"Hey, don't blame me if you're not secure enough with your masculinity, pretty-boy," he threw back at his brother, feeling internally awkward at those words. After all, his entire life he'd been a ladies man, through and through. But then Castiel pushed his way into his life ...

"That's crap and you know it," Sam told him. "Besides, I'm tired of crappy cots and sleeping on the floor."

Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Fine, then I'll sleep on the floor again." He hadn't had a turn in almost a week, anyway.

Sam glared back at him. "Great, so you can wake up sore and pissed at me? Sorry, but no thanks."

Dean winced a little bit, knowing that he was usually grumpy after sleeping on the floor all night.

"You know, you can bitch all you want about it, but we're getting two rooms, simple as that," Sam declared, dropping his fork down onto his plate. "We can work out who's sleeping where later. Just deal with it."

Dean gritted his teeth, ready to throw back any other excuse he could think of when Castiel's voice cut through.

"Dean, what is that?" his voice asked, pointing at the food on Dean's plate.

Dean tried to maintain a cool exterior, but he thought his nostrils might have gave away his discomfort at having to answer a direct question from Castiel. He looked down at his pie, relaying, "Lemon meringue pie."

The ex-angel looked thoughtful before he stated, "Perhaps I should order some. It sounded like a question, as though he wasn't sure ... almost asking permission.

Dean's entire body came to life. "You want pie?" he asked, wondering if his voice really sounded that husky, or if it was just his imagination. He sorely hoped it was the latter.

Castiel shrugged from his seat. "I don't see why not."

Dean watched his raise his hand and call the waitress over, asking for another order of what Dean had. Dean didn't miss the knowing look on the woman's face, and he felt the urge to stomp on someone's foot. Luckily the waitress didn't make any questionable comments, and Dean looked around the table uncomfortably before finally settling his eyes on the pie in front of him.

Some amount of time passed in silence before Sam suddenly announced that he was leaving to pay for the rooms. Dean's eyes shot open in panic, opening his mouth to try and come up with a reason for his younger brother to stay put, but he was too late. He blamed Sam's gigantic legs for his ability to retreat so quickly.

Another awkward - for him - minute passed before the waitress returned with Castiel's pie, looking back and forth between the two men at the table with a grin on her face. Dean all-but told her to run for the hills, and then she skipped away. He watched the ex-angel turn and fiddle with the plate and fork, eyeing the pie in front of him without taking a bite. Seconds that felt like minutes went by, and then Dean blurted, "Are you gonna eat that, or stare at it all day?" He was being rude, but he couldn't help himself. It was either that, or jump the unsuspecting guy right there in the booth. He just HAD to order pie?

After regarding him for a moment - Dean could feel his eyes on him though he'd looked away - Castiel took his fork and dug into the tip of the pie, pulling just a little bit out for a taste. Dean couldn't help but watch as he brought it up and had some sort of mind-meld with it, and then the very tip of his pink tongue darted out to taste a little bit of it, and Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. He couldn't take much more of this. He was only human. Finally Castiel put the entire piece in his mouth, pulling the empty fork back out of his mouth. Dean watched his mouth move, imagining the ex-angel's tongue and teeth massaging and sinking into the sweet fruit and crust. He had to bite back a groan, clenching his jaw tight.

Suddenly Castiel's face lit up with excitement, and a moment later his eyes drifted towards the ceiling, a wicked grin on his face as he enjoyed the dessert. The expression was too sensual for Dean to ignore. When Castiel groaned Dean's mouth dropped open ever so lightly, feeling his breaths coming out more like pants. Is it hot in here?

His eyes fluttered to Castiel's throat as he swallowed, watching his Adam's apple bob in response.

A voice penetrated his dirty thoughts. "Are you okay?"

Dean blinked, his eyes moving without permission to meet Castiel's before he regained control and looked away. "I'm fine, Cas." He could feel those blue eyes on him again, but he held his ground, and eventually Castiel looked away, eating another bite. This time he saw Castiel's fingers dancing on the table out of the corner of his eye before the hand came down on the table, making Dean tense his already taut body.

"That's incredible," Castiel breathed far too hotly, going for another piece of the glorious treat, and Dean made a sound even he had never heard before, trying to contain his own cry/groan.

"If there is something wrong, I could go and find Sam for you," he heard Castiel offer.

Dean shook his head, fighting to hold onto his resolve. "Definitely don't want Sam right now."

"Are you feeling ill?"

Dean shook his head even harder.

"I am confused," the ex-angel admitted.

Dean held his eyes open, feeling his body jumping a bit as it fought the losing battle to control his urges. "That's an understatement." By the time Castiel finished his pie Dean was virtually rocking back and forth in his seat, fighting against every fiber in his being to keep his hands to himself. He kept replaying the conversation he'd had with Castiel when Famine had affected him. "When I want to drink, I drink. When I want sex, I go get it. Same goes for a sandwich or a fight". "So, you're saying you're just well-adjusted?" "God, no. I'm just well-fed."

Well, he was not well-fed anymore. His body was practically aching with need. And normally he could ignore it. Usually his own imagination suited him just fine. But lately that had been next to impossible to achieve, and he couldn't bring himself to find some bright-eyed, impressionable, bar-chick to satisfy his needs. Every time he even considered the idea, he felt even dirtier. He didn't know what was happening to him, but he didn't like it. Or maybe he did, too much. All he knew was that if Castiel didn't stop looking at him the way he did, and caring about him so damn much, he wouldn't be able to keep himself in line for much longer.

"Dean, I can tell something is wrong," Castiel said, his body leaning forwards in his seat. "If you don't want Sam to help you, maybe there is something that I can do to assist you."

And that was the straw that broke the damn camel's back. Dean groaned, fishing money out of his pocket and tossing it on the table before he roughly grabbed Castiel's arm and dragged him out of the seat and then the door of the diner, blocking everything else out of his mind. He continued that way until they reached the car in the motel parking lot. He poked his head in the door, pulling out the room key and number Sam had left him before shutting and locking the door, returning his quick pace. His knuckles were white from gripping the motel-room key so hard, but he barely noticed.

It stuck when he first turned the key in the lock, and he was about ready to just knock the stupid thing of its hinges, but the second turn worked, and then he and Castiel were in the room.

He paced around the small area, trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself down. "Do you have any idea what that - what you do to me? Do you have any idea what you look like when you're ... devouring pie?" he asked, savoring the mental image in case things went badly later.

Castiel's expression was purely innocent. "No."

Dean shot all of the air out of his mouth in one swift breath, clutching his short hair with his hand. "Of course you don't," he breathed, wondering how to proceed.

Suddenly Castiel took a step closer to him. "You could explain ... if you wanted to."

And oh, how he wanted to. Did the ex-angel have any idea what he was doing to him? Was he less innocent than he seemed? There was only one way to find out. Dean looked up at the heavens, shaking his head and saying a silent prayer before his entire body surrounded Castiel, their lips sealing together as he ravished Castiel's mouth.

Castiel froze for a moment, and Dean hoped he hadn't been completely wrong, but then a miracle happened and Castiel relaxed against him, kissing him back ever so slightly.

Dean realized after a minute that he could taste the remnants of the dessert in Castiel's mouth, and it made him moan, pulling him even closer than before, if it was possible. All of his excuses, all of his worries were gone, and it was all he could do not to throw Castiel on the bed and have his wicked way with him.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried about that ... moments later Castiel was the one pushing Dean towards the bed, begging Dean to teach him all the things he'd been missing.

And Dean was more than willing to teach him a thing or two. Twice even. He made a mental note to thank Sammy for taking the other room that night.

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The end.

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Until next time ...!