They'd agreed to exchange small anniversary gifts, despite Dean's insistence, mostly when they were talking about the day with Sam, that, first of all, celebrating anniversaries were kind of pointless anyway.
Second of all, he didn't need anything, and third of all, if he got a good railing from Cas at the end of the day, they could celebrate anniversaries for everything, starting from the day Dean first stabbed Cas in the chest, followed by the anniversary they first made burgers together.
Or what about the anniversary of the first time Dean took a piss while Cas was brushing his teeth in the bathroom? That should be worth something. These things were all underlined with Dean holding up a finger, ticking off each point.
Despite Dean's objections, or maybe because of them, Castiel knew his husband; He knew his soul better than he knew his own essence, so the things he had found when he'd held Dean's soul in his hands, and all the things he'd learned over the years after that, were something Cas kept close to his heart. If Dean wanted to keep this kind of facade, Cas would let him. If it was something Dean needed to keep himself together, Castiel wouldn't reveal those things to anyone on the pain of the Empty.
They were getting ready to go to a local restaurant for some good grub and even better company, just the two of them, with plans to drive along the back roads of Lebanon until there was nothing around except fields and the occasional opossum or a random prairie dog.
To get away from the bunker, people, the city, just the two of them for a moment, for their sixth wedding anniversary, breathing fresh air coursing through Baby's windows and blasting rock through the speakers, hands clasped together in the middle of the bench seat like so many, many times before. A long moment to themselves when they didn't have to think about anything sounded perfect. Just the two of them and Baby. But first they had to eat.
Buffalo Road Steak House was a charming wooden building that somehow reminded Dean of The Roadhouse, which was probably why it had become the regular joint for grub for them, often accompanied by Sam who loved the Sensational Salad Bar with his Reuben sandwich. It was only on occasion Eileen managed to persuade her husband to try something else on the menu.
Tonight, Dean and Cas stepped in the restaurant wearing fancier clothes than their usual plaid and faded jeans, though forgoing any sort of suits and ties. But Dean's new, light wash bootcut jeans and his better boots, and his dark blue dress shirt spoke of making an effort.
It was warm springtime, which was why Dean had rolled his eyes at Cas pulling on his long tan trench coat over burgundy dress shirt, but just the knowledge of how Cas's ass looked like in those tight blue jeans made Dean shut the fuck up pretty quickly, after Castiel threatened to change into his "accountant attire." Though Dean had zero objections to Cas's ties, especially when Cas's face was flushed from exertion, his shirt open, chest sweating on top of Dean, and his tie loose around his neck, the easier it was for Dean to pull him down into a heated kiss.
Tonight though, if everything went well, Dean would peel those jeans off Cas slowly, and enjoy every second of it.
At the steakhouse, they seated themselves away in the moderately crowded part, and found a booth where they could sit side by side in the corner, a window behind them.
A waiter brought them menus printed on plain white paper almost the second their asses hit the bench, and both of them ordered Coronas, as much to Dean's chagrin, they didn't serve El Sol here.
After an astonishing amount of internal turmoil, Dean ordered the prime rib and shrimp, since he couldn't decide if he should get the Kansas City Strip, or follow Cas's lead and get the salmon in lemon butter. In Dean's words, he got the best of both worlds, irritably handwaving away Cas's explanation of shrimp actually containing more cholesterol than any other seafood. It was his anniversary, so Dean claimed he could get what he wanted, and tonight he wanted cholesterol.
By the end of their undeniably enjoyable meals, Dean turned to look out the window, thinking he heard something, and noticed almost black clouds gathering in the distance. It wasn't unusual by any means, but the timing wasn't very spectacular, as they were three quarters of their second beers each away from being ready to leave. The wind was definitely boosting the storm their way in a hurry.
"Cas, sweetheart, mind if we just toss these back and leave? There's a serious looking storm brewing, and I hate when this shirt clings on me when it's wet." Dean made a face that made Cas chuckle while lifting his bottle up, clearly proposing a toast. The dimple on Cas's cheek made Dean's heart leap, and damned if he ever got used to that feeling
Dean raised his bottle, waiting Cas out with a smile of his own, anticipatory.
"Dean Winchester," Cas began in low tones, watching Dean's face with love on his whole features. "You married me six years ago today, and if I could marry you again, I would've done that every single day since."
Dean felt his ears grow hot, but pushed through the feeling, grinning widely at the romance of it all, his heart swelling with emotion when he looked at his husband's adoring face, knowing that the look was returned in kind. "I don't know what took us so long. I would've married you right after the first evaded apocalypse, but you were too busy going about your own shenanigans."
"Yes, Dean, you were going to marry a man-shaped angel who you hadn't even kissed yet, not to mention how difficult that would have been, what with me not having any form of birth certificate or other identification," Cas made his speech gravely, mischief glinting in his eye.
Dean burst into laughter and clinked their bottles together, both draining them, and Dean leaned over to kiss Cas briefly, still having trouble holding back his laughter, shaking his head good naturedly. Cas fished out his wallet while Dean gestured to the waiter for the bill.
Once that was settled, the storm was right above them. People began to come in, drenched, away from the rain to get something hot to eat to warm them up, and the option to return to their seats was soon lost.
"Race you to Baby," Dean winked, and opened the door, raindrops blowing in.
"I have a better idea," Cas halted Dean by the arm, and shook out of his trench coat. "Come on, Dean," Cas winked awkwardly, grinning. "Let me be your knight in shining armor."
"What, you're going to lay that in a puddle for me to keep my feet dry?" Dean was baffled, raising a brow in obvious confusion. "It's a bit of a way to the car, your coat's long but it's not that long."
With a little maneuvering, they were outside under the awning, Dean and Castiel both held an end of the clothing, holding the coat over their heads while the rain poured down, the clouds almost black enough to promise thunderstorms. Hand in hand, they walked briskly to the car, which they'd had to leave annoyingly far because of all the other people insisting on parking as close to everything as possible. As if the whole population of America were allergic to walking. Not that Dean didn't do it himself, but that was not the point right now.
Castiel waited until Dean got the driver's side door open and got inside before going around, waiting for Dean to pop the button to unlock the door, and sat down sideways, legs out of the car, shaking out his coat lightly. It hadn't gotten all that wet after all, so he balled it into his lap after thrusting his hand in the right pocket briefly.
And then the rain stopped pelting the roof of the Impala, as if the gods of weather, the assholes, had planned this all along. Another romantic nail in Dean's coffin.
The sun was shining again when they began their drive to the further reaches of Lebanon, miles and miles of green fields as a rural, and quite wondrous, backdrop with the bright green grasses of the Spring were sprouting out of the ground like magic.
Stopping at a familiar spot, Dean and Cas got out of the Impala, a gentle sweep of Spring wind sweeping their hair, tousling Cas's already messy shock of hair. Here, in the middle of nowhere, where Cas sometimes insisted, cheesily, as Dean put it, they'd come with a thick blanket and a six pack, and lay in the field, watching the stars uninterrupted by any light pollution, and hold hands. Wrapping around each other, legs over hips, thumbs brushing cheeks, talking about nothing, everything, and between.
And occasionally fuck under the impressive canopy of the Milky Way.
Standing a few feet from the car, the men stared at the field, the wetness of it destroying any fantasies of having some afternoon delight rolling in the grass, though the blanket had a permanent spot in the trunk, so it could still possibly be arranged.
Nonetheless, Cas unraveled his trench and shrugged it on, something shifting inside Dean's chest at the sight, the coat so intrinsically Cas, that when he wore another jacket it was like something was missing. And it had been years .
The thought made Dean remember why they were here this time of day, and he went to grab a small gift bag from Baby's glove compartment. Shaking out a small packet wrapped with gift string, Dean proffered it to Cas, his ears turning a fetching shade of red.
"Here you go, buttercup. Your anniversary present, for dealing with me for six years as your actual husband." Dean, kind of overwhelmed with the feeling of love he once again found himself whirlwinding through him, couldn't believe his luck.
Cas laid his palm up, and Dean tipped the packet onto it, watching as Cas's fingers, deft, thick and long, opened it in no time at all, and Cas lifted it up to see it better.
The smile on Cas's face rivaled the sun when he realized what it was.
It was an inch wide, yellow and black, enamel bee pin, with white wings with a black lattice pattern.
Stepping closer, Dean took the pin from Cas's hand and smiled coyly, piercing the bee pin in the lapel of Cas's damp trench coat, his fingers getting astray from their path when the back of his hand brushed against Cas's stubble and down his neck, before attaching the back of the pin.
Stepping back again to admire his handiwork, Dean pocketed his hands into his jeans and swayed back and forth on his feet, clearly liking what he was seeing.
Cas's smile was radiant when he looked up from the pin and at Dean, eyes shining with joy and his wide smile crinckling his nose and the corners of his eyes, the sight of Cas brushing his fingers over the yellow and black pin with a gentle touch, as if it really was a tiny fuzzy creature to be tamed, making Dean want to rush and tackle him into a kiss that would blow Cas's mind. "You remember that time you appeared on top of the Impala- -"
"Dean." Suddenly Cas was way more solemn than Dean would have liked.
"I would love to remember that, if only to remember the look on your face, but I wasn't exactly myself back then…" Cas looked down, biting down on his lip and taking a long breath. Dean was in front of him in a flash, his arms around Cas's neck, nosing Cas's nose so he could get his lips on Cas's. A long, reinforcing kiss later, complete with Cas's little groan that made Dean's nether regions feel funny, Dean was fairly sure he'd apologized properly for bringing that up. Fuck, if he'd managed to spoil the mood.
Dean was going back for another kiss, but before he could do that, Cas smiled just as coyly as Dean had before, looking at him through his lashes. "I wouldn't mind recreating that incident, now that I have a bee and all…"
Now Dean knew for sure there was no lingering pain floating around Cas's noggin, he let out a breath that made him feel that much lighter. He went for another kiss again, but this time it was Cas's hand that pressed to Dean's chest, and stayed there. Cas jammed his hand into his own pocket, fishing out a rectangular plastic box with a tell-tale shape.
"It's not much," Cas said quietly, still smiling, his eyes shining. "But it's something I know you'll love, so I didn't want to chance it with something else."
Holding the box between two fingers, Cas offered it to Dean, who took it with a grin.
It was a cassette for Baby and Dean both, and at closer inspection, Cas's handwriting revealed it to contain 'Cas's Top 13 Scorpions TRA XOXO'
In a split second Dean had deposited the tape in his pocket and was on Cas like his life depended on it, heart pounding in his chest, embracing Cas tightly, seeking his mouth in a feverish kiss. The absolute, hopeless romantics, the both of them, dammit.
Dean floored it back to the bunker like there's a hell hound after them, once the happy couple manages to extricate themselves from another for long enough to get into the car, fingers twining together and resting on the seat the second they get Baby moving. And what are speed limits anyway? Are there speed limits in the back roads of Lebanon? Who gave a shit, they got things to do and places to be. Mostly things to do.
Sam and Eileen had made themselves scarce, as agreed, left for their cottage by the Lake Wabaunshee they'd purchased a couple years ago, just to 'be one with nature', as Sam so ridiculously poetically put it. The truth of the matter was that Eileen loved nature, loved to swim, and Sam was almost as bad, so the hippie bullshit tacked on top of that was a bit excessive. But whatever floated the moose's boat, literally.
The thing that mattered was that Dean could make Cas scream with pleasure, and wouldn't have to meet bitch faces over morning coffee, so it was a win all around.
With the lack of a tie to pull Cas along with, Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him along to their room, years ago furnished with a king size bed with a memory foam mattress, obviously, and it had seen plenty of action since.
As it was about to now.
Cas had followed along obediently, until right this moment, when he twirled Dean around, face against the wall, and bent Dean's arm back in a way that made Dean's cock twitch - forceful, not painful at all. Cas manhandling him had always been Dean's weakest of points.
"Dean, my sweet," Cas licked Dean's ear, not even his breath uneven. "You will calm down, or I will have to force you to calm you down. We're going at my pace tonight, and you will take what I give you." Cas nipped at the shell of Dean's ear, "Do you understand."
Dean nodded vigorously, taking a deep breath, and another. It wasn't the first time Cas wanted to take things slower than Dean usually did. It happened when Castiel wanted to watch Dean come apart and put him back together again, and an anniversary, now that Dean thought about it with the part that wasn't occupied by his lizard brain, would obviously be one of those times.
Dean was on board wholeheartedly.
Turning Dean around, Castiel took a step back and toed off his shoes, tossing them wherever, shed his coat, and it followed the way of the shoes. Cas licked his lips slowly, grinning when Dean followed the movement, hands clenching into loose fists by his sides.
"You can take your clothes off too, you know," Cas smirked, reaching a hand to cup Dean's cheek, Dean leaning into the touch and his eyes fluttered shut.
Cas's hand didn't leave its spot until Dean had unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, and then Cas's hand was on Dean's chest, firm fingers delving under the fabric to find Dean's nipple, pinching it slightly between two fingers. This promised only good things.
The rest of their clothes got cast aside much like the shoes and the coat, just anywhere but on them, both Dean and Cas's eyes wandering over each other's bodies hungrily, both of them half hard just from the glorious sight alone.
Dean slid his arms up from Cas's wrists up to his shoulders, never growing tired of the masculinity of their breadth, the smooth muscles of his forearms, the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing when he looked at Dean with unadulterated lust in his eyes.
Cas's hands came to rest on Dean's hips, his thumbs finding the divots that must've been made for him to do this, since they fit perfectly.
Holding eye contact until the anticipation made them close their eyes again, their kisses started slow, exploratory, palms roaming over skin, while their tongues met gently, unhurried. But Dean wanted to be closer. Ever closer. He needed Cas to fuck him, craved for the moment when Cas was filling him up and pounding into him hard, making him see nothing but the whiteness of the stars of his ecstasy.
Almost as if reading Dean's mind, Cas pulled his head back and smiled at Dean indulgently, reaching down to wrap those manly fingers around the base of Dean's cock and squeezing almost too hard, "This is your only warning, my sweet. You try to take too much, I'll make love to you slow and tortuous all through the night."
"Some threat," Dean managed with some laughter in his voice, until Cas squeezed his now completely hard cock again.
"I said slowly ."
Dean gulped, knowing full well that with Cas's stamina and self-restraint, that was entirely possible. So he relented with a sharp nod and a playful grin, "Capiche." That earned him another squeeze that made him shiver and groan.
"Hmm. Good. Remember that, since you don't always listen very well," Cas slapped Dean's ass gently and pressed a quick kiss to his lips, smirking.
That gorgeous asswipe Dean happened to be married to would be the death of him.
Letting go of Dean with a lingering stroke along his side, Cas went and rummaged through the nightstand on his side of the bed for a moment, and strolled back, drizzling lube generously on his fingers.
Wordlessly, Cas stuck his tongue into Dean's pliant mouth while Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's neck, and used his clean hand to spread Dean's ass cheek wide, pulling the rim taut, dry fingers touching the furled opening, and earning a delighted groan from Dean.
Once Cas's lubed fingers found Dean's hole, Dean leaned his temple to the side of Cas's head, his breath hitching when the blunt tip of Cas's middle finger slipped in almost effortlessly.
"Always so ready for me," Cas praised, voice low and gruff. He pushed the finger deeper as Dean bore back, taking it as deep as it would go, mouthing at Cas's shoulder while his asshole clenched around the intrusion.
Castiel kneaded Dean's ass with his other hand, pressing his cock against Dean's firmly, letting Dean know with every certainty that this wasn't affecting only Dean. It would take a good amount of that self restraint to take this as slowly as Cas had planned.
Not able to help himself, Cas ground his cock against Dean's while pulling out his finger and adding a second one, Dean's fingers digging into Cas's shoulders, moaning lowly. Cas began scissoring his fingers, turning to press a kiss to the side of Dean's head, his other hand playing with the rim of Dean's ass, making the man push back and forth, indecisive what he wanted more, the friction on his cock, or more fingers in his ass.
"Cas, baby, please, you know I don't need this much prep. I want your cock, and then you can take it as slow as you like," Dean looked Cas in the eye, nearly pouting, but his horny smile betrayed his effort.
"Is that a promise?" Cas traced the rim with his dry finger, pressing a little harder, knowing how sensitive the stretched hole was, and Dean nodded vigorously, for once totally serious. "Need it Cas. I had to watch you in that shirt with those sleeves rolled up all through dinner, and I couldn't even properly play footsie with you. Gimme your cock," Dean finished with a peck on Cas's lips.
Once again Dean found himself face against the wall, a hand to his back while Cas bent down to get the forgotten lube from the floor. Heart thumping, Dean waited with his forehead to the cool wall, thankful of its grounding effect, or he'd be riding Cas like a cowgirl in a blink of an eye.
Dean felt Cas step close, felt the nudge of his slicked cock on his ass cheek, while Cas slid his arm under Dean's thigh and lifted it to the side by the bend of his knee, opening him up perfectly.
Adjusting a bit, Cas directed his thoroughly lubed cock to Dean's entrance, pushing steadily until the tip popped past the tight ring of muscle, and Cas groaned Dean's name loudly as Dean's body welcomed him in.
Dean's instinctive reaction was to push back to take more. The need roiling in his groin was furious, his ass empty for Cas's thick, long cock, but he had promised to stay calm, so that was what he'd damn well do.
Dean bowed his head further against the wall, pushing back against Cas's slow, tortuous thrust, sweat forming on Dean's shoulders from the strain of staying still, forearms against the wall to hold himself standing, while Cas started to fuck him, make love to him, in long sublime strokes.
Cas let go of Dean's knee now that he was fully seated inside, one large hand moving low on Dean's abdomen, fingers splayed roughly through his pubic hair, Cas's other hand on top of Dean's against the wall, their fingers clutching each other's
Chest plastered against Dean's back, Cas could feel the shift of his husbands muscles, how they jerked and jumped with Dean trying to keep calm, to take the slow fucking without falling to his usual demands of quick and rough, as if the romance, the intimacy of the moment would somehow tarnish him.
"Oh my god, Cas, Cas, oh," Dean sighed deeply as Cas bent his knees and tilted his hips enough to find what he was aiming for.
With a continuous, high pitched " oh, oh, oh , oh" Dean reached back and got a handful of the back of Cas's thigh, pressing his fingers into the flesh as Cas kept brushing over Dean's prostate with each languid thrust.
Cas pushed his hand lower on Dean's stomach, low enough to take Dean's cock in between his long fingers, stroking the coarse hair, pressing down to the root of Dean's cock between his fingers, moving his hand up and down, up and down, unhurriedly, deliberately tormenting his husband with is barely-there touch.
The tease, the gentleness and the delectable, steady sweep over Dean's prostate made buck against Cas; "Don't stop. Whatever you do, don't ever stop," Dean threw his head back, lost in another dimension where there was only Castiel and his cock, giving access for Cas to mouth and nibble his neck.
Taking advantage of the position, Cas's latched his mouth on the juncture of Dean's shoulder and neck, his breaths wet and hard with his own restraint, lustily sucking on the spot, every now and then adding teeth, knowing full well what kind of a bruise he was leaving behind, and how proudly Dean would wear it. Cas folded his finger around Dean's cock, his fingers still slippery with the lube, and began stroking as slowly as he was fucking him.
Nothing else mattered but the drag of Cas's cock inside Dean, the tight grip of Dean's ass clenching around Cas. Time stood still or rushed extraordinarily, but the men lost in each other wouldn't have known anything about it.
Minutes or hours later, Dean nearly delirious with the sweet torture on his prostate, Cas grabbed Dean's jaw and turned his face so he could kiss the corner of his lips.
"You want more, my sweet?" The question itself was loaded, since Cas's eyes were lust-black, blown wide with a wild need, matching Dean's perfectly.
The jolt the look in Cas's eyes gave Dean made him swallow hard with a slow grin. "Absolutely, sunshine. Everything you got," and had the audacity to wink lewdly.
Cas, despite himself, pulled out slowly, teasing Dean with a last slow push, making Dean groan both with frustration and pleasure. The next thing he knew, Cas had wrapped his arms around him, and carried him to their bed, tossing him on his back, making Dean yelp and huff a laugh, his head thrown back, giving Cas a first look of the bruise on Dean's neck. Cas was very pleased with his work.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean quickly shuffled over to give Cas space to climb on the bed and laughed deliriously, arms open to welcome his angel to their bed. Cas went with enthusiasm.
"I want to see you Dean," Castiel pushed Dean's shoulder lightly guiding him to lay on his back, while Dean scooted his ass closer to the middle of the bed.
"I want to see your beautiful flush, your freckles, your chest, your nipples hard for me." To make his point, Cas sucked a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth until Dean's hips bucked and he shoved his fingers into Cas's hair, not knowing if it was to keep him away or pulling him in for more.
"I want to see you, my beloved, all that is mine." Cas laid his cheek against Dean's chest, just looking up at him for a moment, pupils blown so black it allowed only a slim ring of the bright ocean blue that Dean loved to drown in show.
The lull of the moment didn't last long, restless hands roaming, Cas fondling Dean's balls with a firm touch, Dean's legs spread wide to allow Cas to do whatever he pleased.
"Let me see you watch me, Cas. Let me see you watch what's yours," Dean nearly growled, so turned on by Cas's words his cock was throbbing, Dean knowing that he was a hair's breadth away from coming, if only Cas put his hand on his cock.
That wasn't an option. The hollow feeling Cas pulling out left demanded to be filled again, and Dean grabbed a pillow, shoving it under his lower back to better present his hole, and gripped Cas by his biceps, pulling him on top of him. "Watch me, Castiel."
Cas climbed on top of Dean, pressing his finger into Dean's ass without preamble, Dean taking a deep breath and nodding eagerly, a raunchy grin on his face.
Thus deemed there was enough slickness, Cas raised to his knees between Dean's legs, sliding his arms under Dean's knees and raising them up, further exposing Dean's hole, and Cas couldn't stop himself from staring at the slick, furled opening.
Cas's mouth watered. "One day I will make you come only on my tongue," Cas scooted a bit higher, until he could press his cock against Dean's asshole, pushing tentatively to make sure there really was enough lube.
Sinking in easily almost halfway in, Dean's head thrown back, showing the dark, large mark Cas sucked and bit on Dean's neck, the sight of his husband in throes of passion unleashing an animalistic need to claim, to rut until they both panted and spilled their cum, painting each other with their seed.
Thrusting hard, Cas sank the rest of the way in, Dean eyes flinging open, mouth hanging listlessly, the sound coming out of him music to Cas's ears.
"Come on, come on, Cas, baby, fuck me. You know you want to, you always want to," Dean begged hands stroking up and down Cas's arms where he could reach, and with a growl, Cas bent down to suck and bite at Dean's nipples, licking his chest, tasting the sweat pooling in the dip between Dean's pectorals.
Hips moving slowly still, the agonizing wait for the moment that Cas's reserve, the dam that had been building in the pit of his stomach from the moment Dean had pinned that bee into his coat, broke, and that moment was close.
Dean, head raised to watch Cas here, now, so alive and eager, held Cas's head between his hands almost reverently. "Let go, Cas. Let go for me. Let go for you, inamorato."
That word, which Dean used rarely, held more meaning than a mere word should. It was in their wedding vows, both of them having searched for a word less Victorian than a lame, as Dean put it, 'lover'.
Used now, in this moment, on this day, the feeling behind it was almost palpable. Dean's own form of romance and Cas lapped it up greedily.
Cas pushed as deep into Dean as he could, lifting Dean's legs higher, meeting each other in a kiss that was more open mouths and tongues, than locked lips.
"Inamorato," Cas reciprocated, starting a faster rhythm with his hips, Dean's hand grasping Cas's arms, Cas's eyes roaming all over Dean as promised, always coming back to keep eye contact, and if their looks were magnetized.
Picking up the pace, Cas stared at Dean, stared at the arousal hardened nubs of his nipples, watched as Dean's handsome chest blushed the harder he was fucked, and listened to the wanton noises coming from that divine mouth.
Dean was so close, so fucking close , there was the taste of iron in his mouth.
Thrusting as hard as he could, in this position, buttocks flexing, Cas lifted himself up on his elbow and brought his other hand to Dean's cock, Dean's face and sounds pleading and begging when words were already beyond him.
Stilling to grind right into Dean's prostate, Cas flicked at Deans glans hard, and Dean's back arched like a strung bow and his cock bobbed as he came in gorgeous, forceful, flooding bursts, cock pulsing and throbbing for what felt like endlessly, Dean flying free, Cas still relentless in his treatment of Dean's clenching ass.
Dean whined, mewled, cried, and finally managed a deep breath, until the telltale sound of Cas's long, growling groan hit his cognition, and he felt the pulse and heat of Cas spending deep inside Dean, as deep as possible, as if to brand him all over again. Dean's cock twitched hard, feebly dribbling more cum onto his stomach.
Dean smiled blissfully, hands groping for Cas aimlessly, until Cas flopped down, smearing Dean's cum between them, bathing in it. All Cas's. All Dean's.
Trying to even their breaths, wrapped around each other, the pull of their lips was too much to resist, and although it was more breathing into each other's mouths, it was intimacy. It was romance, to be able to share all this with the one true love of their lives.
Cas rolled off Dean, albeit reluctantly, and nuzzled close, head on Dean's shoulder so he could nip his ear with his lips, kiss his temple, blindly groping for the sheets as the cooling sweat threatened to make both of the men shiver.
Today had been perfect - No one else in sight, and even a celebratory cherry pie waiting on the kitchen counter that they'd baked this morning. They weren't in Paris, there was no champagne, there weren't rose petals spread on the bed, but it was the most romantic day of Dean's life.
Their lives were hardly a fairy tale, more like a horror story with constant fear, death and destruction, but one thing was clear; There was a happily ever after, after all.
And it was all theirs.