The moon shone down across the beach, smiling down at the lapping waves without cease. A set of footprints marred the otherwise perfect expanse of beach, trailing eastwards, finally headed towards the sea itself.
Dean watched the waves lick at the shore, threatening to wash over his boots, they came so close. He watched the reflection of the moon ride the ceaseless, ever moving surface of the ocean, watched as the stars peppered its dark surface like tiny diamonds glittering in the dark.
The ocean did nothing to soothe his tortured soul, his troubled heart. Dean would get no rest until he knew that Castiel was safe. He knew that the angel was off on another mission, fighting demons somewhere on an angelic battlefield, somewhere far away that Dean couldn't stand at his side and fight alongside him. He sighed, cast his eyes down towards the sand, kicked a loose pebble free, shifted it along the sands, before he kicked it into the waves, watched it fall into the water with a satisfying little plop.
He sighed, squinting out towards the horizon, and wondered what was out there. He blinked, heard a noise that he at first thought was the waves still lapping at the shore, before he realized that it was in fact Castiel. Dean had heard the sounds of the angel's wings, so similar to the sounds of the waves before him, that it had seemed to mingle, become one.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, shoulders slumped a little, his eyes cast down at the sand with relief, before his gaze inevitably drifted up to Castiel's face beside him. Castiel was looking out at the sea, eyes narrowed in a similar fashion to Dean's previous squint, lips gentle, curled up in a satisfied smile. From that look alone, Dean knew that this time, the angels had won, the demons vanquished for another battle, and Castiel himself had escaped unharmed. He was standing too easily to be anything other than unhurt.
"Hey, Cas," Dean said, blinking at the angel in the soft moonlight.
Castiel turned that perfect, intense gaze upon him, looking more ethereal in the moonlight, more angelic, and Dean's breath caught in his throat. Castiel had never looked so perfect, so beautiful than he did right then and Dean wanted to press urgent lips to Castiel's to run his hands over bared skin, to make Castiel react, writhe beneath him, moan for Dean.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel replied, breaking into the hunter's train of thought, with that familiar deep voice that was exclusive to Castiel alone.
"How'd it go?" Dean asked, struggling past lack of concentration to find something, anything, to say.
"The battle? Oh, it went well. We won, by a tight margin," Castiel replied, as he cast his gaze up at the sky, looked towards the stars as though counting them.
The moonlight played across his face, made his eyes seem a darker blue than normal, more mysterious, caught his lips and made them more kissable somehow. Dean must have shifted, made an involuntary noise, for Castiel looked back at Dean, before his breath was driven from his body by the force of Dean pressing urgent lips to the angel's.
Castiel responded, worked his lips against Dean's, needed this kiss as much as Dean did. All through bloody battles and hard won fights, he'd thought of Dean, needed Dean by his side, needed to feel Dean against him, needed to feel his kiss once more. That thought alone had kept him going; that he might see Dean at the end of the fighting.
He did not protest when Dean pushed his coat free from his shoulders, did not fight when his suit jacket swiftly followed, both pooling on the sand at his feet. He grabbed fistfuls of Dean's T Shirt in suddenly sweaty hands, pushed the soft material higher up the hunter's body, before he broke the kiss reluctantly, to push the T Shirt over Dean's head.
Dean moaned quietly, eyes closed against the night sky as he felt Castiel's fingers skim over the bare skin of his abdomen, traced sigils across his chest, soothed tense shoulders with exploratory hands. He felt his erection strain against his sudden too tight jeans, begging release, soon given when Castiel slowly removed Dean's jeans from around his hips. He kicked them free, heard a faint splash as they were kicked too far and landed in the water.
He stole another kiss from Castiel's responsive lips, as he unbuckled, unzipped the angel's dark pants, yanked them free, along with the angel's boxers. Still kissing, they fumbled at Castiel's tie, his shirt, before they, too, fell to the sand in a heap, forgotten in an instant. Dean ran reverent hands over the angel's body, amazed once again at how strong the body felt beneath his fingers, despite the fragile look of him. His hand travelled further south, slowly, as he watched Castiel's face slowly flush with need, desire, lips parted, swollen, eyes closed, neck exposed as his head was thrown back.
Dean wrapped his hand around Castiel's weeping erection, and both moaned loudly at the contact, sent their cries of sudden lust to the stars. Dean started to stroke Castiel's cock, slowly at first, picking up the pace at the angel's insistent, bird soft cries, his hips backing into Dean's palm with every stroke. Dean quickened the pace, pumping firmer, faster, made Castiel's cries louder in the otherwise silent night air.
Castiel dropped his gaze to Dean's eyes locking, tongue licking out across his lower lip, as an orgasm threatened to overcome him. He fought it, fought hard, then finally gave in to the lust setting his veins alight, coming in hot spurts over Dean's palm, coating the hunter's hand with his release. He cried out for Dean, cried something wordless, then cried for Dean again, as he slowly came down from waves of bliss still coursing through his body.
He didn't protest when Dean turned him round, didn't protest when Dean encouraged him to his hands and knees, just followed the hunter's gentle persuasion without question. He blinked against the sweat still dripping into his eyes, before breath hitched in his throat when he felt Dean press a finger slowly inside him. He bit his lip, felt the burn, the pain, give way to something more pleasurable. Only then did he allow himself to cry out, a long muddled litany of "yes!" and "Dean !" and "please!" mixed in with panted moans and pleasured murmurs. He rocked back onto Dean's hand, harder when he felt Dean press another finger inside him, harder still when his fingers rubbed over Castiel's prostate.
He gasped out a mumbled litany of curses, felt his cock grow steadily harder the longer Dean stroked his prostate.
As though sensing the angel was nearing his time again, Dean withdrew his fingers, spat into his hand, slicking up his own cock with slick fingers, before he guided himself into Castiel, crying out the angel's name as he sank inside Castiel, felt the tight heat close around him snugly. He steadied Castiel's hips, thrust into him again, again, harder, eyes closed against the elation coursing through him.
Nothing came close to how it felt when he made love to Castiel, when he was buried deep inside the angel, and heard him when he came beneath him. Dean balanced himself, shifted, changed the angle slightly and hit Castiel's prostate with every other thrust. Castiel's cries were getting louder, more insistent, and Dean knew that the angel was close to coming. He thrust harder, picking up the pace, felt his own time draw ever nearer, only dimly aware of Castiel stroking himself firmly beneath him.
Ragged breaths mingled, cries rose and entwined in the night air, lost to the stars and the ever watching moon. Castiel came hard, released himself over his own hand, with a long and drawn out cry of Dean's name, muscles clamping down around Dean's cock as he orgasmed. Dean couldn't hold back any longer, and released himself hard inside his angel, hips snapping against Castiel's as he shouted loudly for the angel.
He threw his head back, chest heaving, as he shouted for Castiel again, needed him, wanted him still, but it was too soon, still too soon. Dean slowly withdrew, before he slumped back against the sand beneath him, gasping for breath. Castiel joined him, settled comfortably against Dean's side, one arm, one leg draped across Dean's body, as the angel rested his head against the hunter's shoulder.
Castiel closed his eyes, smiled, as he felt Dean's arm wrap sturdily around his slim shoulders, drew him in closer to the hunter's body. He smiled again when he felt Dean's lips press gently against the top of his dark haired head, felt the comforting weight of Dean's free hand stroke against Castiel's arm.
They lay like t hat, not speaking, not feeling the need to speak, just bathing on the moonlight and in each other's love ....
tbc