Consummation of Love Devine

As the last of the ritual's energy dissipated into the air, the bunker settled into an unusual calm. The heavy tension that had hung over them for days now felt like a distant memory, replaced by something lighter. Dean felt it in his chest—a relief that was more than just surviving another apocalypse-level event. It was something different, something personal.

Sam packed away the remnants of the ritual, his movements slow and methodical, clearly giving Dean and Cas space. He'd caught on quickly, as Sam always did, and the small, knowing smiles he sent their way were more supportive than teasing. Dean appreciated that.

When the room had finally cleared of all remnants of the battle, Dean glanced at Cas. The angel was standing by the table, his hand absently tracing the edge of a book, his eyes distant. He looked worn out, but there was a softness in his expression, a peace Dean hadn't seen in a long time.

Dean took a breath and approached Cas, his heart racing but not in the usual, panicked way. This was different. He'd always been afraid of taking this step—of what it would mean for them. But now, after everything, he felt calm. Ready, even.

Cas turned as Dean drew near, his blue eyes locking onto Dean's with that same unreadable intensity that always made Dean's chest tighten. But this time, there was something else in the air between them—something quiet and sure.

"You okay?" Dean asked softly, his voice low as he closed the distance between them.

Cas gave a small nod, his lips curving into a faint smile. "I'm fine, Dean. Just… processing."

Dean chuckled under his breath. "Yeah, me too." He glanced at the floor, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, but when he looked back up, Cas was still watching him, still focused entirely on him. It was like Cas saw every part of him, all his mess, all his flaws, and loved him anyway.

Dean let out a slow breath, then reached out, resting his hand on Cas's arm. The touch was gentle, but it felt like a promise—something unspoken but undeniable. "You wanna… go somewhere? Just the two of us? Get outta here for a while?"

Cas tilted his head, his gaze softening. "Where would we go?"

Dean shrugged, smiling a little. "I don't know. Anywhere. We don't have to go far. Just… somewhere quiet. Somewhere we can… talk. Or not talk. Whatever you want."

Cas seemed to consider this for a moment, then gave a small nod. "I'd like that."

Dean felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a smile spreading across his face. "Good. Come on, then." He grabbed his jacket, tossing one to Cas, who caught it with a small, amused quirk of his lips.

They headed out of the bunker, the night air cool and refreshing as they stepped into the open. The Impala was parked nearby, the familiar sight of her making Dean's heart ease just a little bit more. He slid into the driver's seat, and Cas took his usual place in the passenger seat. But this time, the silence between them wasn't heavy or awkward. It was comfortable, easy.

As they drove, the hum of the engine the only sound in the night, Dean kept glancing over at Cas. His hand rested on the wheel, but his mind was elsewhere. The kiss they'd shared earlier lingered in his thoughts—the softness of it, the way it had felt right in a way nothing else ever had.

Cas seemed to sense his thoughts because, after a while, he reached out, his hand resting gently on Dean's thigh. It wasn't much—just a simple touch—but it grounded Dean, reminded him that this was real. That they were doing this. Together.

Dean smiled, his fingers brushing against Cas's hand as he drove, the night stretching out before them. They didn't need to talk, didn't need to fill the silence with words. The warmth between them, the unspoken connection that had always been there, was enough.

Eventually, they pulled up to a secluded spot—a quiet stretch of road surrounded by trees, the stars hanging low in the night sky. The only sound was the distant rustle of leaves and the soft creak of the Impala as it settled into park. Dean killed the engine, and for a moment, they both just sat there, letting the stillness of the night wrap around them.

Dean's hand still rested on the wheel, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over the leather. He glanced over at Cas, who was staring out at the sky, his face soft in the dim light. For once, there was no tension between them, no looming disaster to fix or apocalypse to avert. It was just them, here in the quiet, with nothing standing in their way.

"Cas," Dean began, his voice low, hesitant. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, wasn't sure how to put everything he was feeling into words. But he knew he needed to try. "Back there… the kiss…"

Cas turned to face him, his expression unreadable but patient, as if he knew Dean needed to find his way through this in his own time. "Yes?"

Dean swallowed, his heart pounding in his chest. "I—I don't know how to do this," he admitted, the words slipping out before he could stop them. "I mean, I'm not exactly good at this kind of thing, y'know? Feelings and all that."

Cas's gaze softened, and he reached out, placing his hand over Dean's where it rested on the wheel. "You don't have to be perfect, Dean," he said quietly. "Just… be honest with me. That's all I ask."

Dean let out a shaky breath, his eyes dropping to where their hands touched. It was such a simple thing, but it made his chest feel tight in a way that had nothing to do with fear. "I never thought… I didn't think this was even possible," he admitted, his voice rough. "You and me. I mean, it's not exactly something I ever let myself think about, you know? But now…"

Cas's thumb traced small circles on the back of Dean's hand, his touch soothing. "And now?" he prompted, his voice gentle but filled with that quiet intensity that always made Dean feel like he was being seen—truly seen.

Dean took a deep breath, lifting his eyes to meet Cas's. "And now, I can't stop thinking about it," he said, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them. "I don't know when it happened, Cas, but… you mean more to me than I ever thought anyone could. I don't know how to do this, but I wanna try. I wanna figure it out. With you."

Cas's expression softened further, his eyes glowing with something like hope. "Dean," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet awe, as if he'd never expected to hear those words. "I've wanted this… for a long time."

Dean let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Yeah?" he asked, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Cas nodded, his gaze never leaving Dean's. "You mean more to me than anything in this world," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I didn't know if you—"

Dean cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking his head. "You're not the only one, Cas. I've been too damn scared to admit it, even to myself. But I'm tired of running from it. From us."

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of everything unspoken finally settling between them. But instead of feeling overwhelming, it felt… right. Like something that had been building for a long time was finally falling into place.

Dean shifted in his seat, turning fully toward Cas, his heart pounding but his resolve steady. He reached out, cupping the side of Cas's face, his thumb brushing gently along his cheek. "So, what now?" he asked, his voice low, a little breathless.

Cas leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before he opened them again, gazing at Dean with that same unwavering intensity. "Now," he murmured, his voice a soft hum in the quiet night, "we stop hiding. We stop pretending this isn't real."

Dean's breath hitched, something tight and warm blooming in his chest. "Yeah," he whispered. "I'm done pretending."

He leaned in slowly, giving Cas time to pull away if he wanted to. But Cas didn't. Instead, he met Dean halfway, their lips brushing softly at first, like a promise. This kiss wasn't rushed or desperate like the one before—it was slow, deliberate, filled with the weight of everything they hadn't said but had always felt.

Dean's hand slid into Cas's hair, pulling him closer, and Cas responded with a soft sigh, his hand resting on Dean's chest, right over his heart. The kiss deepened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Dean let himself feel everything. The warmth of Cas's grace thrummed just beneath the surface, wrapping around Dean like a second heartbeat.

When they finally pulled back, their foreheads resting against each other's, Dean felt lighter than he had in years. He smiled, a real, honest smile, and Cas mirrored it, his eyes shining with something Dean could only describe as joy.

"So," Dean murmured, his voice still a little breathless, "I guess this means we're really doing this."

Cas nodded, his smile soft but sure. "Yes, Dean. We are."

And for the first time in a long time, Dean wasn't afraid of what came next. He wasn't afraid of what it meant to let Cas in, to let himself be vulnerable with him. Because they were in this together, and that was all that mattered.

They sat there for a while longer, the Impala their sanctuary, the night quiet and peaceful around them. And for once, Dean let himself enjoy the moment, the knowledge that, for the first time, he wasn't alone.

He had Cas. He always had. And now, he always would.

The drive back to the bunker was quiet, a peaceful sort of silence that stretched between Dean and Cas. The tension of the battle with Umbra had faded, but a new kind of awareness lingered in the air. Every so often, Dean would glance over at Cas, still marveling at the idea that this was real—that Cas was here, beside him, and they'd finally crossed that invisible line between them.

But as they pulled into the bunker's garage, something shifted. Dean noticed the slight wince on Cas's face as he moved, the way his grace flickered just beneath the surface like a dying flame. It was subtle, but Dean knew Cas well enough to see the exhaustion weighing him down.

"You okay?" Dean asked, his voice gruff with concern as they climbed out of the Impala.

Cas offered a small nod, but Dean could tell it was forced. "I'm fine, Dean. Just tired."

Dean frowned, stepping closer. "Cas, don't bullshit me. That blast you pulled back there—it wasn't just a little power-up. You're running on fumes, aren't you?"

Cas hesitated, his eyes dropping to the ground. "I expended more grace than I realized. I thought I could manage, but…"

Dean's stomach tightened. "But?"

Cas's gaze flickered back to him, his expression tense. "But I'm more depleted than I anticipated. My grace is nearly gone."

The words hit Dean like a punch to the gut. "What? Cas, why didn't you say anything sooner?"

"I didn't want to worry you," Cas admitted, his voice soft but firm. "We had other things to focus on—Umbra, the ritual…"

Dean's jaw clenched. "Damn it, Cas. You're always doing this. Putting yourself last."

Before Cas could respond, Sam appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed with worry. "I thought I heard you guys come in. Dean, Cas—I've been doing some research."

Dean gave his brother a questioning look. "Research? What kind of research?"

Sam glanced between the two of them, his expression serious. "I had a feeling something like this might happen. When Cas used so much of his grace to banish Umbra, it wasn't just a temporary drain. His grace is almost depleted, and if it's not replenished soon, he could… well, he could lose it for good."

Dean's blood ran cold. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam?"

Sam took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "There's a way to restore grace, but it's… complicated. Angelic grace isn't like a battery that you can just recharge. It needs to be intertwined with human energy to regenerate. That's how Cas was able to heal before when we performed the ritual."

Dean's mind was spinning. "Okay, so we just do the ritual again, right? Get some candles, some Latin, boom—problem solved?"

Sam shook his head. "It's not that simple. The ritual worked last time because Cas wasn't this drained. Now, it would take something… more. Something deeper."

Dean raised an eyebrow, his stomach tightening with apprehension. "More? Like what?"

Sam hesitated, his gaze flicking to Cas before looking back at Dean. "The bond between grace and human energy has to be… intimate. It requires more than just the usual exchange of power. It's a merging of essence, Dean. A connection that goes beyond a ritual."

Dean felt the weight of Sam's words settling in, his pulse quickening. He knew what his brother was hinting at. He glanced at Cas, who was watching him with that same patient, steady gaze, though there was a flicker of something else there—something that made Dean's heart race.

"Intimate," Dean muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Right. So, what are you saying, Sam? We need to…?"

Sam looked uncomfortable but resolute. "It could be through a ritual. But if the bond between you two is already strong… physical intimacy could be enough. It would intertwine Cas's grace with your energy in a way that could replenish him."

Dean's breath caught in his throat. "Physical… intimacy?"

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. It would allow Cas's grace to latch onto your energy, help him regenerate faster."

Dean's mind was racing, his gaze darting between Sam and Cas. This wasn't just about some ritual or spell—it was about them. About everything that had been simmering between them for years. And now, they were faced with a choice—one that felt both terrifying and inevitable.

Cas, for his part, was calm, his expression steady but soft as he turned to Dean. "Dean, it's your choice. I don't want you to feel pressured into anything. There are other ways…"

Dean shook his head, cutting him off. "Cas, shut up for a second."

He took a step closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "If this is what you need, if this is how I can help… then let's do it. No more rituals, no more candles. Just us. I'm not afraid of this, Cas. Not anymore."

Cas blinked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise, but Dean could see the flicker of hope in them—the quiet yearning that mirrored his own.

Dean took a deep breath, his hand finding its way to the back of Cas's neck, pulling him closer. "We've been dancing around this for long enough," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "You and me—we've been through hell and back. I'm not letting you fade away, Cas. Not when I can do something about it."

Cas's breath hitched, and for a moment, the exhaustion in his eyes was replaced by something else—something warm and bright. "Dean," he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. "Are you sure?"

Dean nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the skin at Cas's nape. "Yeah, Cas. I'm sure. I'm all in."

Cas's lips curved into the faintest of smiles, and before Dean could second-guess himself, he leaned in, pressing his lips to Cas's in a slow, deliberate kiss. There was no urgency this time, no desperation—just the quiet, steady certainty that this was right.

As the kiss deepened, Dean could feel the soft pulse of Cas's grace, faint but steady, like a quiet hum beneath his skin. He didn't know how this would work, didn't know what it would mean for them moving forward, but right now, all that mattered was Cas—Cas, who had given everything for him, who had stood by him through every battle, every loss, every moment of doubt.

And now, it was Dean's turn to give something back.

As their kiss broke, Dean rested his forehead against Cas's, his breath coming in soft, steady gasps. "Let's go inside," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "We'll figure this out together."

Cas nodded, his eyes shining with something that made Dean's chest feel tight in the best possible way. "Together," he echoed softly.

With that, they turned and headed into the bunker, the weight of everything they'd been through behind them, and the promise of what was to come lingering in the air between them.

And for the first time in a long time, Dean felt like they had all the time in the world.

As they returned to the bunker, the heavy doors closed behind them with a thud, the weight of everything that had happened lingering in the air. Dean felt a mixture of relief and exhaustion, but he kept his focus on Cas. Cas, who had given so much of himself to banish Umbra, now walked beside him, visibly drained but determined to stay on his feet. His grace flickered faintly, like a light struggling to stay lit.

Dean's gaze flicked to Sam, who had already started pulling out books and notes from the table in the war room. Sam was determined to find an answer, his mind working through the possibilities, but Dean knew Cas didn't have time for research. His grace was too depleted.

Cas sank into one of the chairs at the table, his hands trembling slightly as he rested them on his knees. "I'm… weaker than I thought," he admitted quietly, his voice edged with a rare vulnerability.

Sam glanced up, concern etched across his face. "I've been reading about this. When an angel expends too much grace, it's dangerous. They need time to heal, to regenerate. But there's another way… something to replenish grace faster."

Dean's attention snapped to Sam. "What do we need to do?"

Sam hesitated, flipping through his notes. "It's about intertwining energy. Angelic grace and human energy. There's a ritual, something that allows a human to share their life force with an angel to help speed up the process."

Dean frowned, his mind racing. A ritual seemed too impersonal, too detached for what he felt toward Cas. He knew this was more than just about healing Cas physically—there was something deeper here, something that had been building between them for a long time.

He turned to Cas, his voice soft but steady. "I don't think we need a ritual, Cas."

Cas looked up at him, a question in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Dean stepped closer, his heart beating faster in his chest. He crouched down in front of Cas, his hand reaching out to rest gently on Cas's knee. "We've been connected for a long time. You've saved me more times than I can count, and… I think we can do this without any fancy rituals or spells."

Cas's eyes softened, understanding dawning in them. There was a quiet intensity in the air, a shared acknowledgment of what they had become to each other.

Dean's hand moved up, brushing against Cas's cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I want to help you," Dean murmured, his voice low, intimate. "Not just because you need it, but because I… I want to be there for you. In every way."

Cas's breath hitched, his gaze locked on Dean's. "Dean," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Without waiting, Dean leaned in, pressing his lips to Cas's in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, filled with all the feelings he had held back for so long. Cas responded, his hand coming up to rest on the back of Dean's neck, pulling him closer as their connection deepened.

The kiss became something more—a sharing of energy, of grace, of everything they had been through together. Dean could feel the warmth of Cas's grace pulsing beneath his skin, faint but growing stronger as they held onto each other. It wasn't just about the kiss; it was about the way they shared themselves, the way their bond transcended words.

Dean broke the kiss only to whisper against Cas's lips, "Let me help you. Let me give you what you need."

Cas's eyes shimmered with something more than just grace. It was trust, love, and acceptance. He nodded, leaning into Dean, his forehead resting against his. "I need you, Dean. I always have."

Dean's heart clenched at the words, and he knew, without a doubt, that this was what they had both been waiting for—an acknowledgment of what they meant to each other, a way to strengthen Cas, but also to solidify what had been growing between them for so long.

Dean guided Cas to his room, the space filled with quiet intimacy as they shed the burdens of the battle they had fought. The air between them crackled with a quiet, electric energy, the connection deepening as they lay together, hands and lips exploring in a way that wasn't just physical—it was about healing, about giving back what had been taken, about offering themselves to each other fully.

Every touch, every kiss, every breath was a silent promise between them—a vow to always stand by each other, to share in the pain and the joy, the struggle and the triumph.

Dean pushed Cas gently down onto his bed. Dean looking hesitantly at Cas and asked "Are you ready?" "I am as ready as I can be." Dean captured Cas's mouth with his tasting him on his tounge. Then he slowly trailed kisses down Cas's chin, neck, chest and down his abdomen. Without last questioning glance to which Cas nodded his assent. Dean took Cas's length into his mouth gently almost reverently, and began to slowly suck at the head then shaft of Cas's member. Slowly teasing the head with his tounge as Cas let out a low guttural moan. He continued in this way for a while the worked his way back upnto Cas's mouth where he claimed it with a passionate kiss. Now laying body to body both could feel the erection of the other pressing together with evident desire.

Cas looked imploringly at Dean both breathing in short ragged breathes. "Dean, I want to feel you inside me… please…. Dean reposition cad on the bed placing himself at Cas's entrance. Slowly he presses the head of his cock slowly inside of Cas pushing the length in inch by inch, slowly allowing Cas to adjust to the new sensation that this must be for him as it was for Dean. Cas's, panting, hitched breathing rises throughout beginning to crescendo as he takes in Dean to the base. Slowly Dean begins to slowly, rhythmically thrust back and forth into Cas's core feeling the warmth envelope him from tip to base. Their mouths crashing together in heated passion as Dean's thrusts take on a more feverish pitch. Wrapping his hand around Cas's length and began to stroke with determination as he felt his own pleasure start to rise. Increasing the tempo of both his hand and his thrusts he looks into Cas's eyes. "Shit, Cas I'm close…" "Me too" Cas responds. With a final depp thrust Dean exclaims "Fuck Cas, I'm cumming" as his cock begins to throb inside Cas spilling into him, as Cas crests over the same edge as Dean. They both lay together breathlessly, entangled and spent.

Throughout the night Cas's Grace is slowly replenished, fueled by their closeness, Dean could feel the warmth growing inside him too, the energy intertwining between them in a way that was as intimate as it was powerful.

In the end, it wasn't just about healing Cas's grace. It was about something deeper, something unspoken but understood. They were more than just partners in battle now—they were bound to each other, in a way that went beyond words.

And as they lay there, in the quiet aftermath of everything they had shared, Dean knew that whatever came next, they would face it together. Always.