Dean turned away before he could do something stupid – like kiss Cas again. He knew that if he did, he wouldn't stop this time.
He only got halfway around before a hand was fisted in his shirt and pulling him back. He only had time to wonder what the hell was going on before warm lips were once again on his.
There was a tenderness to it that hadn't been there before, though there was still a bitter edge of anger in the violence. It was the most confused and exhilarating kiss he had ever had and he knew that he had been right. He wasn't going to be able to stop this.
Dean kept his lips soft as his hands ripped at Cas's sweater, barely separating long enough to get it over his head. As Dean kissed his way down his neck, Cas worked his shirt over his shoulders. When his head was free again, he bit down on Cas's collar bone, reveling in the cinnamon scent and the hissing groan it released.
"No marks."
The words were spoken softly, like an apology. It made Dean angry, but he respected the words.
He didn't know why he had thought that this must mean there was no reason to hide. Seeing a friend from high school that he had almost slept with wasn't quite enough to stop Cas's wedding. Dean knew the words meant to leave no evidence for Meg to see. The bitter angry part of him wanted to leave marks out of spite.
The part of him that he thought might just be in love with Cas wanted to do whatever he asked just for a chance to keep touching him.
It took more self-control than he had thought he'd have, but he managed to pull his teeth from his skin and go back to light kisses as he kept his jaw clenched.
Cas's hands were running across his shoulders and back. He seemed to be on the same page because he started tugging the pajama pants lower on Dean's hips as Dean undid the button of his jeans. He only got the zipper down halfway before his hand stopped him.
He prayed Cas hadn't suddenly remembered why they shouldn't be doing this. The worry was laid to rest when Cas spoke. "I want to see you first."
Dean looked at him. He had leaned his head back against the wall and looked at Dean with heavy-lidded eyes. His breathing was heavy, drawing Dean's eyes to his chest. The muscles were lean and threaded down to narrow hips, thrust out a bit with just a hint of bone.
There was something vulnerable about being the first to be naked and maybe Cas was trying to avoid it. Maybe he wanted to take revenge on Dean for that night. Dean was self-concious and wishing for less afternoon sunlight pouring in his third floor window. But he had spent enough years regretting not following through, so he pushed his pajama pants down and stepped out of them before spreading his arms. Here I am, the gesture said, look at me.
Cas looked, seemingly drawn into Dean's body. He knew that if he cared to work out harder –or drink less – it could be nicer, but it wasn't bad. There was muscle tone without sagging skin, though freckles played across his shoulders and back. He'd never thought he was horrible looking, but he hadn't ever really thought he was something spectacular to look at, either. He wasn't sure that Cas would agree.
Thankfully, before he could start feeling too self-concious, Cas pushed himself off the wall and started stepping closer. Dean wasn't sure when he had taken his shoes off, but they weren't there when he watched Cas drop his jeans and boxers.
All he was really paying attention to was that Cas was finally coming toward him and he wasn't going to say no this time.
Dean legs were shaking as he leaned against the wall. There were some stains he was going to have to get out of his carpet, now, but he didn't regret a second of it. He wasn't so sure about Cas, though.
Cas was jerking on his clothes, his skin still flushed and sweat drying between his shoulders. He watched him without saying anything, because he didn't know what to say. Nothing that could come out of his mouth right now would make this situation make any more sense.
Dean even understood that he might need time. He had just cheated on the woman he was going to marry. He wondered if this was the end of everything, though.
Cas stopped for a second with his hand on the doorknob, then opened it without saying anything. Just before he walked out the door, he spoke softly without turning around. "This should not have happened." He just nodded, even if he couldn't see him. There was nothing else to say.
Dean waited for him to leave then locked the door and made his way to the bathroom. He turned the radio on and sunk to the floor, letting the reverberating sounds make him feel something because he was far too confused to figure himself out.
"You can't, you can't forgive yourself. I don't blame you. At times I can't tell who you are anymore, or if I ever even knew you. What exactly do you want to hear? Yeah, what exactly are we doing here? Your indecision makes a slow incision, cuts what little we have left. It doesn't feel a thing like falling. I can't feel a thing as I watch you move in then out the door."
The lyrics worked their way into his head and he laughed. They were so fitting. He didn't know what he felt, he didn't know what he should feel. He wondered if he was going to be able to forget about Cas, but he wondered if the feel of his skin was going to become his new whiskey. He did know that he'd gotten more than he bargained for. He'd asked for a kiss and Cas had paid that with interest. He couldn't text him anymore.
It Doesn't Feel A Thing Like Falling - Taking Back Sunday