Fiction: Drawing Staws - r - Dean/Castiel

[goth_clark]

Title: Drawing Straws
Genre: first time, angst
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Word Count: 11,400
Warnings: Spoilers up to Season eight.
Notes: Thanks to my betas twinsarein and Becky. Remaining errors are mine.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing.
Summary: With Castiel joining them on the road, Sam and Dean must share the responsibility for a fallen angel who has lost his grace. This means drawing straws for who gets to stay in the motel room with Castiel when they go on the road. Dean hates to be the short straw until he doesn't.
for the deancasbigbang
art jukebox_head

AO3


A good old fashioned haunting. That's what Sam had called this case.

Dean cocked his rock salt shotgun and checked around the corner to be sure the coast was clear. Behind him, Castiel stood against the wall as though he were on a stroll. He wasn't hiding, but had managed not to make his position known.

"What do we do now?" Castiel asked again for the third time.

Dean glared back at him, and motioned for him to be quiet. With anyone else the hand gesture would have worked, but not with Castiel. Dean already dreaded the drive home.

The sound of moans from the hallway caught Castiel's attention. He marched around the corner and Dean was forced to follow, calling out to him. The specter, the ghost of a serial killer that haunted this abandoned building every five years, rushed at Castiel. Dean shoved Castiel out of the way, aimed and fired.

The spray of rock salt dissipated the apparition and Dean ducked when he swam through the last wisps of Mortimer Teasdale. He was ready in moments with his shotgun, because he knew Mortimer would be back in seconds. It was taking less and less for him to become solid, as they got closer to midnight. Midnight was when he would be able to touch them.

"Cas, we need to get out of here, now." Dean glanced at his watch, urging Sam to finish his task of uncovering Mortimer's bones and burning them for good. Behind him, Castiel recovered from the sprawl Dean had sent him into.

"I believe I can appeal to his better nature," Castiel said.

Dean tried not to react to such an idiotic suggestion. They had gone over this a dozen times. These cases never ended well. Someone always ended up dead, and maybe Castiel needed to see for himself. Dean spun and faced the reforming vapors, lowering his weapon.

"Come and get me you son of a bitch." Dean spread his arms, ready to embrace the cold, dead arms of a man who would kill him if skin ever touched skin.

"No!"

Dean felt himself being yanked to the ground. They rolled together, Dean atop Castiel, Castiel's arms wrapped around Dean. Dean stared wide-eyed down at Castiel. There was no time to contemplate the position they were in. The outraged cries of a murderer denied a victim filled the hallway. Castiel snatched the shotgun from where it had fallen, and managed to fire one-handed.

The recoil threw Castiel's aim off and he sprayed a few feet to the left, missing Teasdale. Dean rolled and flipped, took the weapon, turning so that his back was pressed against Castiel, pinning him to the floor, and fired. The gun jumped in Dean's grip slamming him against Castiel, Dean's elbow connecting with Castiel's side. Dean flinched when he heard the crack of bone. Castiel cried out. Moments later, Teasdale stopped in his pursuit and went up in flames screaming with anger.

Ashes fluttered to the floor and Dean relaxed, muttering a thank you to his absent brother. Castiel pushed against Dean, shoving him aside. Dean turned his head to find Castiel propped up on one elbow, his back to Dean, clutching at his midsection.

"I think something has broken," Castiel said.

If that were true, he should have been in pain, but his casual tone seemed to say otherwise. Dean paused for one moment, leaned back and did a cursory examination of Castiel who flinched when Dean touched Castiel's left ribs. Dean cursed under his breath. The last time Castiel had been hurt, they'd had to stay at the Men of Letters for three weeks while he recovered. The downtime had been needed, but Sam bitched the whole time about how they could have been out stopping demons. Dean knew Sam was right. With Abbadon in charge of Hell they couldn't afford downtime.

Dean stood and helped Castiel to his feet, taking care not to hurt him in the process.

"I am fine, Dean." Even as Castiel said the words, he cringed in pain, bending forward, one hand on his broken ribs. "Although this does hurt a considerable amount."

Dean shook his head. "Cas, can't you just say, 'Ouch, this fucking hurts.'"

Castiel straightened with his arms at his sides. Dean knew what was coming next by the expression on Castiel's face.

"Ouch, this fucking hurts," said Castiel, putting about as much feeling in his statement as he did in everything else he said.

"Close enough." Dean didn't feel like explaining. Besides, they had miles of road before them and a motel stay, which meant another night of drawing straws to see who got to share a room with Castiel. Dean hoped it wouldn't be his turn.

~

Dean walked from the bathroom into the dimly lit motel room, trying not to focus on the sleeping figure on the bed. He looked diminished somehow, but Dean knew that couldn't be true, even though Castiel looked terrible. His white shirt was rumpled from sleep, as was his hair. He lay on his right side, body curled up with one arm tucked under his head. Castiel was still the same size he'd always been, even before the loss of his grace. Maybe it was the Queen-sized bed, which made him seem so small. The only two rooms left in the motel had been this one with one Queen-sized bed and lucky for them, a single, which Sam had won with a smug expression.

A knock on the door attracted Dean's attention. He checked the peephole and let Sam in. Sam entered and sat down on a chair at the small round table in the corner. He looked worried, which was understandable considering everything that had happened in the past three days.

"He's asleep," Sam said, breaking the silence first.

"I gave him some pain pills. He should sleep through the night." Dean sat down in the only other chair in the room and fiddled with his laptop, raising the lid. The click it made was the only noise in the room, other than Castiel's steady breathing.

"I hope so because..."

Dean caught a glimpse of empathy in Sam's gaze. He leaned back in his chair, lost in thought, picturing the scene of angels falling from the sky. He recalled his first thought being for Castiel and whether he was still alive. Dean still remembered the sense of panic in his heart at the thought of Castiel trying to make his way in the real world without his mojo. How would one adjust after millennia of counting on abilities given to you by Heaven?

Dean stood and opened the cooler to retrieve two beers, handing one to Sam. When Sam didn't take the offered drink, Dean set it down on the table at Sam's right elbow. Dean took a long pull from his bottle, drinking as much as he could before he sat down again.

"I know." That was an understatement, considering that Castiel had yet to enjoy one night of perfect sleep. At least he'd sat motionless to allow Dean to tape up his injured ribs. "Maybe I should take some of those magic pain pills."

Sam eyed Dean with a wary expression and then glanced at the beer. Dean nodded in understanding and Sam took a drink from his own bottle, seeming to be convinced that Dean would not be foolish enough to mix heavy drugs with alcohol.

"We should let him sleep all night, then we can get going in the morning." Sam stood, setting his empty on the table. "We can get him back to the Bunker. He can recover there." Sam ran his hands through his long hair.

"Right. We can get back to work on finding a way to get Cas back to normal," Dean said. Even as he spoke the words, he saw the flash of frustration in Sam's eyes. Sam didn't believe they could find a way out of this, and it had been months since that dick Metatron had slammed the gates of Heaven shut on angels, but Dean didn't see that there was any other choice but to try.

"I'm going to bed." Sam left, taking his dark mood with him. Dean knew that Sam was angry at Dean's attitude, but there was nothing to do about that. The trials had almost killed Sam and Dean wasn't going to let that happen again. It wasn't worth the price.

Dean heard the sound of moans from the bed and frowned. It looked like he was in for another restless night with Castiel, who, despite the heavy sedative wasn't going to be able to sleep a full night. Dean sat down on his side of the bed, his back to Castiel. He removed his boots with a weary sigh and lay down taking care to lie as close to his edge as possible. He tucked the flat pillow beneath his head wishing he were home in their bunker with his big firm pillows and porn stash.

When the bed rocked, Dean opened his eyes and stared at the far wall. Castiel moaned again. Dean turned his head enough to see Castiel. From the rapid eye movement beneath his closed lids, Dean surmised that he was caught in a dream. An experience Castiel insisted on sharing the next morning with Sam and Dean. Castiel muttered something that Dean didn't catch. Dean twisted further to get closer, and shuffled his position in the bed until he was facing Castiel.

He stretched out one leg and brought his arm under his head to bolster the flat pillow, gaze intent on how Castiel shifted in his sleep, one leg kicking. Dean jumped when Castiel's eyes opened. He could see the momentary glazed expression in Castiel's eyes morph from confusion to realization of where he was. Dean found himself caught in Castiel's gaze, trapped by the pleading blue eyes. Dean felt discomfort at the less than two feet between them.

"Thank you, Dean." Castiel flinched as though it hurt to speak and it might, considering the pounding his ribs had taken. Dean knew the joy of cracked ribs and how every breath you took was like inhaling broken glass. For Castiel the sensation must have been terrifying, judging by the expression on his face. The drugs hadn't helped.

Dean licked his dry lips. Castiel's deep voice hadn't changed, his eyes were still cerulean, and they still had that hurt look in them as though he were searching Dean's soul to find where Castiel had failed humanity. They still did something to Dean, something he never wanted to analyze in depth, too afraid to go down that unwelcome path.

Dean's mind flooded with memories, remembered the first time he'd met Castiel. The first time Dean had stared into those blue eyes. Later, Dean had discovered that the eyes were just borrowed.

Dean waited for Castiel to say something more but he didn't. Instead, Castiel closed his eyes and seemed to be struggling. Then he spoke.

"Don't." Castiel opened his beseeching eyes again.

Was it getting warm in here?

Dean felt his heart skip a beat and that same strange feeling filled him, but he didn't say a word. Don't what? Don't look at me that way? Don't feel sorry for me? Don't leave me?

"Don't leave me alone," Castiel said.

Dean felt his heart flutter in his chest again. Had Castiel read his mind? Or was it just a good guess? "Did you dream again?" Dean ventured, not wanting to hear the answer, but nonetheless asking anyway. He couldn't look into those eyes and turn away.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He seemed to crumble before Dean, and then Castiel shook his head, his gaze growing distant. "I don't remember." It was a lie and Dean knew it. He could smell a lie a mile away, but Dean didn't intend to call him on it.

Dean closed his eyes and settled back down, hoping to catch at least some sleep. When Castiel's breathing didn't indicate that he'd fallen asleep again, Dean cracked one eye open and saw Castiel was still watching him. The intense gaze felt intrusive, even though Dean knew that now Castiel couldn't read his mind or look into his soul. He'd lost that ability along with his grace.

"What is it?" Dean said after a long silence. He wanted to stay quiet and sleep, letting Castiel work this out on his own time, but he could still feel Castiel's intense gaze on him.

"Nothing, I did not say anything," Castiel said. He shifted on the bed, rocking the mattress on its springs. This time Dean heard a grunt of pain. There was no way he'd get a good nights' sleep with that happening all night.

It was this again then. This was the reason Dean didn't want to draw the short straw. Sam never seemed to complain about the nights he was forced to share a room with Castiel. Dean had even argued that since this was the case, maybe when they were forced to stay in motels, Sam should babysit the lost puppy.

"You were thinking too loudly," Dean said, turning over and facing the other direction. At least this way he could pretend he was in the bed alone.

Maybe Dean should have opted to sleep on the floor. He didn't relish the thought, though. There was one more option, but the thought of sleeping in the back seat of his baby seemed just as unpleasant. He hadn't had to do that in a long time and why should he lose the comfort of a bed? After all, it was his money, stolen or otherwise, that had paid for the room. He wasn't about to abandon it because he felt a little uncomfortable sharing a bed with another man. Besides, Castiel wasn't a man despite the exterior shell. Something Dean told himself all the time.

"I am sure that it's an impossibility to be thinking too loudly," Castiel said. The bed rocked again when Castiel shifted and Dean glared over his shoulder. The expression of pain on Castiel's face somewhat melted Dean's frustration.

"Could you stop doing that?" Dean said, stressing with a look that he meant the moving around. Maybe he shouldn't have used such a snippy tone, but Castiel moved around more in bed than any other person Dean had ever met.

There was a long moment of silence where Castiel tilted his head and then sat up. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. For a second Dean thought Castiel would stand but then he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

"Cas, come on. Just lie down and get some sleep." Dean felt a pang of guilt the moment he said the words. He knew this couldn't be easy for Castiel.

"I am sorry, Dean," Castiel said with a heavy sigh. He stood and then sat back down, clutching his chest.

"I know, Cas. Just sleep. You'll feel better with a good night of sleep."

Castiel nodded and lay back down, curling up again. Dean settled down, closed his eyes. He felt warmth and comfort, drifting off into sleep. Dean's body felt light and safe.

~

Dean awoke with a jerk.

He'd been dreaming. Someone had been holding him. Warmth cocooned Dean and he hadn't wanted it to end. Still groggy, Dean didn't realize right away that there was a hand on his hip. His foggy brain registered that there shouldn't be a hand on him because he was alone in his bed, wasn't he? Then he remembered that he wasn't alone. Castiel was with him and they'd had to share a bed.

Dean raised his head from the pillow and looked over his shoulder, trailing his gaze down until he saw Castiel's arm stretched out. His hand rested on Dean's hip, as if it belonged there. Castiel must have reached out in his sleep. There was no harm in that.

Then Castiel stroked Dean with his thumb. Caught by the motion of that stray thumb, Dean watched the unconscious gesture. Dean checked again. Castiel was sound asleep, his eyes closed, the other hand tucked beneath his head, looking like an angel.

Dean realized at that moment that he was hard and that he had warm 'fuzzies' in his belly that had not been there when he'd first woken. He also noticed the distinct bulge in Castiel's pants. He glanced at the bedside clock to see that it was almost nine in the morning.

Dean slipped out of the bed, and out from under Castiel's touch, trying not to disturb him. There was no need to wake Castiel. Besides, if he woke him, Dean would no doubt have to explain human rituals. It was just a morning happy. Nothing to see here, and there was no way Dean was going to try to explain why men woke up hard or dwell on what made a man hard. Just saying most men woke up hard every morning wouldn't cut it for Castiel. Dean knew that simple explanations never worked no matter how many times Dean had tried to explain this to Castiel. He rushed to the bathroom and closed the door, feeling like he'd escaped some horrible fate worse than death.

Dean flicked the light on and stared at his gaunt reflection in the mirror, shaking his head. "What are you looking at?" He sneered at his likeness and took a deep breath. Dean took his morning pee, smiling at the memory of when they'd been forced to explain human bodily functions to Castiel, and Castiel's response. Now that had been fun. The look of distaste on his face had been comical. Sometimes Dean had to resist the urge to play with Castiel. A few times now, Sam hadn't been able to resist and the results had been worth a few chuckles.

Dean jumped at the knock at the door.

"Dean," Castiel said. "I have to..."

Dean shook and zipped up, washing his hands. He dried them on a towel, taking his time. Once Castiel knocked again, Dean opened the door and grinned at Castiel.

"Just say it, Cas," Dean said. Castiel moved past Dean and didn't wait for Dean to leave the room. He whipped it out and was relieving himself before Dean had a chance to turn around. Dean realized, too late, that he was staring. Not that he could see much, but when he turned his gaze to the mirror Dean saw way too much.

"Whoa," Dean said, turning his back on Castiel.

"I am sorry, Dean but I had to see a man about a horse," Castiel said. The flow stopped and Castiel flushed the toilet. "Besides," Castiel said.

When Dean turned back to face Castiel, they stood less than a foot apart, and Castiel had neglected to finish, finish.

"You said this was a natural human bodily function," Castiel said, finishing his thought.

"Cas." Dean cleared his throat and tried not to look down. He really did, but one quick glance to... yup, he'd forgotten, or just not cared to remember the final step.

"Yes, Dean?"

Dean pointed down, looking Castiel in the eyes. Not looking down again, not looking down. This time, Castiel looked down.

"Put it back in your pants."

Castiel tucked it back inside and zipped his pants up, an apologetic expression on his face. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but Dean shut him down with a raised hand.

"Let's just get ready to go. You can take the first shower," Dean said. He exited the bathroom and moved to gather his duffle, stuffing everything but the clothes he planned to wear today, inside the bag. Dean heard the shower turn on. At least that was something he didn't have to help Castiel out with. He knew how to clean up all on his own. Sometimes it was like having a child with them. Dean didn't fault Castiel on that front. It wasn't like he expected Castiel to know every single minutia of human living or interaction. As an angel, he hadn't bother or needed to know those 'mundane human customs.'

Castiel exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. Dean moved past him without a word to take his turn. He set his clothes on the sink and turned on the shower, stepping into the tub. The hot water felt good on his skin and Dean was hard in no time. He tried to ignore the erection, but every time he flashed to the glimpse he'd caught of Castiel's unmentionables, Dean's dick twitched. He glared down, scrubbing soap over his cock and balls. That only made him harder.

"Traitor." Dean leaned one hand against the wall, allowing the spray of water to fall on his back and ass. He closed his eyes and thought about boobs. Big, bouncy, soft curvy boobs with a pretty black-haired woman attached to them. That did the trick. He jerked himself to orgasm and bit his bottom lip when he came. With a grin, Dean washed the evidence away. He was still straight as an arrow. So what if he'd had a wayward thought or two about Castiel. They didn't count and besides, Dean chalked it up to close quarter and morbid curiosity. Not his fault.

Dean turned off the water and toweled down his body, getting dressed before he was dried. He disliked the feeling, but it couldn't be helped. There was no way he was going to dress with Castiel in the room. When he came out of the bathroom, he found Castiel dressed and sitting on the bed, his hands on his knees.

~

"There's no way we're going to make it back in time tonight," Dean said. He opened the driver side door of the Impala, looking over the roof at Sam.

Sam nodded. "You're probably right. That means another night in a motel." Sam's grin almost looked like a smirk to Dean.

"If we drive through the night we could make it by the next night," Dean said.

Sam pulled out his cell phone and thumbed a few buttons, shaking his head. "Nope. It says it's going to take another seventy-one hours to drive the rest of the way."

"We take a different route," Dean said, hoping his suggestion would somehow magically shorten the distance or Sam would discover a new route not thought of before.

Sam shook his head and held his phone out, despite the face that Dean was unable to see the small screen.

"Stupid highways," Dean said, punching at air in frustration. This meant another night at a motel and sharing.

Sam walked around the Impala and held out a hand with two stir sticks poking up from his fist. "We should draw now."

Dean slumped his shoulders, reached out and picked one. It would be just like tearing off a Band-Aid. He held up his choice and Sam held up his. "Shit. Why do I always draw short?"

Sam smirked. "You don't always." Sam waved his long stick in the air, mocking Dean with the piece of plastic.

"Best two out of three," Dean said.

Sam opened the back door and started to get in the back seat.

"Wait, why are you getting in the back?" Dean glanced back. Castiel had yet to come out of the restaurant. What the hell was he doing in there?

"Cas called shotgun," Sam said, sliding in the car and slamming the door shut behind him.

"What, when?" Dean climbed in behind the wheel, closing his door.

"In the restaurant, back there," Sam said. He stretched out in the back seat, leaned back and closed his eyes, pointing a thumb behind them at the diner.

"I didn't hear it," Dean said, adjusting the rear view mirror so he could see Sam in the reflection. "If I didn't hear it, it didn't happen."

Sam had a smug smile on his face. Dean caught movement in his rearview mirror. Castiel was headed their way.

"You are going to pay for this."

"Whatever, bitch," Sam said.

Dean twisted in his seat, glaring over his shoulder at Sam. "Jerk."

Castiel climbed in the passenger seat and Dean turned to face forward. They went silent. Castiel eyed Dean with suspicion.

"Have I missed something?" Castiel twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder at Sam who had a big grin on his face.

Dean glared at Sam's smug reflection and started the engine, adjusting the rearview mirror again. Music blared from the radio and Dean reached out to turn the volume down.

"No, Cas. You didn't miss anything."

~

Dean drove for as long as he could. They stopped for gas and Sam took over. This time Castiel moved to the back seat and Dean rode shotgun. Castiel didn't even need to be asked or told. Dean was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment. He was happy to discover after twenty miles of silence that Castiel had fallen asleep in the back seat. His head lulled against the back window, shadows of long, black lashes stretched over his cheeks. Dean cleared his throat when he realized that Sam was eyeing him with suspicion. He stared out the window, watching the forest and farmland in silence as they passed rural landscapes at sixty miles an hour. With the radio turned down low, Dean felt content to be like this as long as possible. He even caught himself smiling.

When the day grew into night, they pulled into a viable motel option. The place looked deserted and seemed to be miles from nowhere, but the free Wi-Fi sign seemed promising. Even out here in the middle of butt fuck nowhere the denizens offered modern amenities. There was even a small diner across the road.

Sam parked in front of the office and Dean climbed from the car, leaving Castiel in the car alone. With one nod, Dean agreed to wrestle up some grub while Sam checked them into rooms. Twenty minutes later, Dean found the Impala parked in front of room 21. He knocked and Sam opened the door snatching a paper bag from Dean and offering Dean a key, pointing to the left. Dean took the key, noting the keychain had the number 22 engraved into it in white. Sam was already shoving his hand into the bag to pull out the salad. Dean followed him into the single, eyeing the bed with longing.

"I am starved," Sam said. He sat down on the lone chair in the room and set the salad down on the small table. The home fries followed. At first, Sam didn't seem to notice Dean, but then he stopped and looked up at Dean. "Cas is already in your room." Sam smiled. "Thanks for the food. You should go eat yours before it gets cold."

Dean stared, wanting to curse his brother, but instead he put one of the drinks from the drink tray on the table for Sam, nodded and then left without a word.

They should have rented three rooms. Why couldn't they do that? It's not like they were short on cash. When he entered his room, Castiel was sitting on one side of the one queen-sized bed, rubbing the stubble on his cheeks. Dean closed the door and walked to the table in the room, setting two paper bags and the drink tray down.

"Burgers and fries tonight," Dean said.

Castiel stood and walked to sit on the chair across from Dean. He still wore his trench coat and jacket. No matter how many times Dean told him he could remove them at the end of the day and hang them up, Castiel never did. It wasn't that he didn't know what to do; it was that it never occurred to him to do it. That seemed to be the case in all things when it came to Castiel.

Dean removed his own jacket and draped it on the back of his chair before sitting down. He unpacked their food, putting a burger and fries before Castiel who didn't make a move for his food. Dean motioned for Castiel to eat, but Castiel sat in silence with his eyes closed almost as though he were saying grace. A moment before Dean was going to make a rude comment, Castiel reached for the burger.

They ate in silence. Despite having slept for on the road for four hours, Castiel looked bedraggled. Dean tried not to stare, allowing his gaze to examine the characterless room. He eyed at the one bed. He was going to kill Sam tomorrow, or maybe he would do that tonight while Sam slept in his smug little room. He'd wait until they were all sound asleep and sneak into Sam's room, maybe put some water in the bed so Sam would think he'd wet himself during the night. Dean nodded at the thought and decided that he would do just that.

"I apologize for the burden I have become," Castiel said, tearing Dean's attention away from his thoughts of revenge.

Dean felt a twinge of guilt at the look in Castiel's eyes. He leaned back in his seat and set his drink down. "For the last time. You are not a burden."

"All evidence seems to indicate that this is not the case."

Dean stared at Castiel trying to decide what to say, but coming up empty. There was no time for this and he was too tired to deal with Castiel's feelings of inadequacy.

"Stop that. The sad eyes are killing me." Dean crumpled his wrapper and stuffed it into the bag, twisting in his chair to toss the bag into the small garbage bin just a few feet away. Dean missed and sighed. He watched Castiel crumple his trash and aim for the bin. Dean shook his head. Castiel was further away from the garbage though not by much. "You'll never get it in."

Castiel tossed the wrapper. It teetered on the edge for a moment and they watched. For a split second Dean was sure it would fall out and land beside his bag, but gravity was on Castiel's side. The crumpled ball slid into the bin. Dean looked at Castiel who grinned with triumph.

"Lucky shot," Dean said. He stood and scooped up his bag to toss it in, but the bag missed again. "Oh, you have got to be kidding." Dean glanced in Castiel's direction, ignoring the smug expression. This time, he made sure the garbage hit its target.

Dean ignored Castiel and trudged to the bed, flopping down on the right side. He tucked his arms around himself and closed his eyes, settling in. It took him no time to fall asleep.

When Dean awoke, it felt like just a few minutes had passed, but it was dark outside and the lights were out except for the dim light that filtered in through the thin curtains. Dean yawned, wondering what could have awakened him. He jerked, startled when he realized that Castiel was sitting on the other side of the bed facing the wall. He still wore his trench coat. Dean muttered a curse under his breath.

"I am unable to sleep," Castiel said. His voice was deep, but soft.

Dean yawned again and rubbed at one bleary eye. "Probably because you slept in the car." His throat felt parched. Dean sat up, rubbing a hand through his hair. The bedside digital clock read four forty-four. It ticked over to four forty-five. Dean cracked his stiff neck with a groan.

Castiel remained silent, body twisted to look at Dean, one hand on the bed, the other in his lap. Dean stood and walked around the bed to Castiel's side, motioning for Castiel to stand and turn. Castiel obeyed without hesitation.

"Come on," Dean said. He started to remove the trench coat, but Castiel brushed Dean aside, removing it and the jacket. "Look, Cas. I know..." he stopped himself when he saw the glare in Castiel's eyes. Dean moved again to stand in front of Castiel. "I don't know, but I do know that you're one of us now."

Castiel paused in his task of removing his tie. Dean reached up and pushed Castiel's hands away, finishing the task. He held the tie in his hand, staring down at the cheap, blue fabric. The moment seemed to drag on way too long for Dean's taste. He cleared his throat.

"Let's just try to get some sleep, okay?" Dean said, patting Castiel on his shoulder and giving it a squeeze. Castiel nodded.

They settled back down in the bed. Dean closed his eyes, feeling his goal accomplished when the other side of the bed rocked with Castiel's motions. He wanted to peek over his should to ensure that Cas was settling in, but resisted the urge. Despite thinking there was no way he would get to sleep now, Dean drifted into dreamland, in moments.

~

Dean finished the last stroke, and washed the excess shaving cream from his cheeks. He caressed his face to check the smoothness and smiled, giving his reflection a wink. He'd slept like a baby after the impromptu wake-up in the middle of the night. Castiel had still been asleep when Dean awoke. Not wishing to wake him, Dean had gone to the bathroom for some alone time. He planned on heading to Sam's room in the hope that his brother would still be sound asleep. Since Sam was a late sleeper the chances of startling him were great.

When he exited the bathroom, a much-rested Castiel stood by the window. The drapes were pulled open and Castiel stared out into the morning light.

"You should get showered and shaved," Dean said, tossing his kit in his duffle.

Castiel turned his gaze on Dean. "I'm not fond of shaving. I always cut my skin with the sharp blade."

"You could grow a beard," Dean said with a shrug. The suggestion didn't seem to spark Castiel's interest. "Look, um," Dean couldn't believe he was going to say this. "I'll show you the right way to shave that won't have you covered in tissues."

Castiel nodded once and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Dean shook his head. Could Castiel be this dense? How hard was it to learn to shave. Dean didn't remember having trouble, but then Castiel wasn't a teenaged boy desperate to be a man. Dean knocked on the door.

"Enter," Castiel said.

Dean opened the door with hesitation, unsure what he would find, but all he found was Castiel leaning against the bathroom sink, a towel wrapped around his middle. Castiel's clothes sat folded in a neat pile on the sink to his right. Dean entered the room, picking up the small can of shaving cream. Dean cleared his throat and tried to ignore the lengths of naked skin before him. This was foolish. He should just let Castiel cut himself and learn the hard way how to get a good shave. No, what was foolish was thinking this was anything but a friend helping out a friend. No one needed to know about this. Dean would never tell.

Before he could change his mind and rush from the room, Dean uncapped the cream. The pop seemed to echo through the silent room. Dean looked up at Castiel who sat patient and silent, watching Dean with rapt attention.

"This isn't normal, okay?" Dean said. When Castiel didn't reply or make a comment, Dean nodded as though Castiel had acknowledged the not normal situation.

"Of course, Dean," Castiel said, his deep voice echoing. His intense gaze never left Dean's.

"Right, okay, so um," Dean swiped a hand across his face. He made sure Castiel was paying attention, though he didn't need to as Castiel had not taken his gaze from Dean since he'd entered the bathroom. Dean shook the can a few times then depressed the nozzle to deposit a small amount of the cream into the palm of his left hand. "A little goes a long way."

The small amount of cream expanded, as it should. Dean set the can down on the counter and rubbed the scented cream between his palms. He reached out to spread it on Castiel's cheeks, but couldn't get it right because of the awkward angle. Dean shifted to stand between Castiel's legs. He paused when Castiel repositioned himself on the counter, spreading his legs to accommodate Dean. If Dean didn't know better, he would think Castiel was doing this on purpose.

He reached out to spread the shaving cream on Castiel's cheeks. Castiel leaned forward, his gaze still trying to follow every motion Dean made. It looked ridiculous and kind of adorable. Dean tried to concentrate on his task at hand. He happened to glance down and notice a prominent bulge developing beneath the towel. Dean widened his eyes and looked up at Castiel's face.

"I apologize. I seem unable to control my... junk," Castiel said. The contrite expression on his face seemed to indicate that Castiel was telling the truth.

Dean chided himself for thinking that someone as sincere as Castiel could engineer this situation. "That's fine." Dean cleared his throat and kept his gaze locked on Castiel's face. His own cock stirred in his pants. "I'm just going to..." A dozen other retorts flashed through Dean's mind but he chose to stifle them. He was just glad Sam wasn't here to see this.

Getting back to why he was in here, Dean picked up the razor and positioned himself so he could start on the left side of Castiel's face. Castiel didn't move a muscle as Dean stroked down. Dean turned the cold-water tap on and cleaned the razor under the running water. The towel jerked. Dean ignored the movement, concentrating on the second stroke. Stroke, rinse, stroke, rinse and jerk. Dean's gaze couldn't help but go to the movement. He tried to ignore it, but it was hard.

Castiel gripped Dean's hand just as he was about to take the last stoke. Their gazes locked for a second and Dean knew what was about to happen. He should have backed out of that room the moment he saw the look in Castiel's eyes, but Dean froze, swallowing the tremors that threatened to break him.

Castiel tilted his head and leaned forward, his eyes still open and gaze locked on Dean. Their lips brushed. Castiel's thumb stroked Dean's pulse point. Dean felt his pulse pound beneath Castiel's fingertips. Then Dean did something he never thought he'd ever do. He fell into Castiel, their mouths locked in a kiss. Castiel's mouth was closed, but Dean teased it open with his tongue, ignoring the fact that this wasn't what he'd thought he'd wanted because suddenly Dean knew what he'd been missing all this time. His mind exploded. Dean knew the tension between he and Castiel had sometimes been sexual, but this was insane. Castiel kissed like he'd never done this before, but that was fine. Dean was going to show him the right way to kiss someone.

Dean's cock was so hard. He pulled Castiel's hand down to show him just how hard. Castiel cupped Dean through his pants. It wasn't enough. Dean realized that the towel had almost fallen from Castiel. He grabbed hold of the hard length, giving it one quick stroke. The smooth head felt good in his palm. He smeared the precome over the shaft and jerked Castiel off while tonguing his mouth. It didn't take long. Castiel moaned and moments later he pulsed in Dean's hand, shooting hot come over the towel and Dean's fist.

Caught in the moment, Dean unbuttoned and unzipped. The kiss didn't break and Castiel was a fast learner. His tongue danced with Dean's like an expert, better than any kiss Dean could remember. Passionate, demanding and greedy the more they kissed. Dean felt Castiel's hands on his hips. The firm touch moved to shove Dean's jeans and underwear down, tugging them until they were at Dean's knees. The kiss broke for a second, and then Dean pulled Castiel back up to crush their mouths together, hungry for more. He thrust forward, shivering when Castiel brushed a hand over his hard cock. Dean helped guide Castiel, showing him how to stroke and what to do to make him feel good. Dean was already close to the edge after jerking Castiel off and their tongues locked in a slick, wet dance.

Dean bit Castiel's bottom lip to stifle a cry as he came. He fell against Castiel, knees locked to stop him from sliding down to the floor. The sounds of their combined breathing filled the room, and Dean could feel Castiel's heart pounding. He slid his hand up to rest it against Castiel's naked chest in an attempt to get closer to that sound.

"Thank you for showing me how to shave." Castiel's words cut through the silence, shattering the moment.

Dean pushed off, unable to look at Castiel. He turned away and zipped himself up. When Castiel touched Dean's shoulder, Dean flinched away, rushing from the room.

His mind in a haze, Dean paced the room, feeling like a caged beast. The water in the shower turned on. Dean paused and looked down at his hands. He reached up to touch his lips. He could still smell Castiel on his fingers. Dean closed his eyes and licked them, repulsed and turned on all at once. He rushed to throw his things inside his bag, trying to push what had just happened out of his mind. He needed to think about anything else but what they had just done, but Dean's mind flashed to the look in Castiel's eyes. He paused and thought about how good it had felt to finally kiss those lips. It was a relief to know now that Dean wasn't imagining the attraction between them, and Castiel more than reciprocated.

Dean stopped, took a deep breath and sat down. He could handle this. It wasn't that big a deal. No one needed to know, especially not Sam who sometimes teased Dean about the special bond he had with his angel. Fuck. An angel. Dean had just jerked off an angel and jerked off on an angel. He was going to hell, again.

When Castiel exited the bathroom, he was buck-naked with a motel towel clutched in one fist. Dean turned his back on Castiel.

"Whoa, Cas. We talked about this. You can't just walk out here with your junk hanging free."

"I apologize, Dean, but I have no such hang-ups when it comes to my..." there was a pause. Dean knew he shouldn't but it was impossible for him to resist. He peeked over his shoulder. Castiel still hadn't covered up. He was staring down at his free-hanging dick.

By now, Dean could describe Castiel naked in excruciating detail. That this wasn't the most disturbing thing about his relationship with Castiel didn't make Dean feel any better about the situation.

Castiel looked up at Dean. "...Junk. Besides, you have already seen my junk on several occasions." Castiel grinned.

"Just cover up," Dean said. When Castiel didn't make a move, Dean took matters into his own hands. He snatched the towel from Castiel and tried to wrap it around Castiel's waist. Why were motel towels so small? Flustered, Dean held the towel in place and looked up into Castiel's eyes. They were inches apart and Dean felt his heart flutter.

"May I kiss you again?"

Now he asked. Dean stared, unsure what else to do. The truth was, he wanted to kiss Castiel, maybe more than Castiel wanted to kiss him. Dean leaned forward. At that exact moment, the door nob to their room turned. Dean stopped leaning. He heard the door open. With his back to it he couldn't see who was invading their privacy though Dean could venture a guess. Only Sam had the second key and it wasn't time for room service.

"I got us some coffee and donuts to go," Dean heard Sam say. "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize I'd be interrupting something."

Dean felt frustration build at the impish tone in Sam's voice.

"Hello, Sam," Castiel said. He leaned around Dean and waved at Sam.

"Oh." Sam faked surprise.

Dean snarled at the mirth in Sam's eyes.

"This is not what it looks like," Dean said, trying to twist around to face Sam and at the same time trying to encourage Castiel to take the towel. When Castiel made no move to do so, Dean gave up and turned to face Sam. The towel dropped to the floor. Dean flinched and realized how guilty he must look.

"Right, not at all," Sam said. He took a few steps back toward the doorway. "Cas needed help getting dressed because he's three."

"Actually, if you only include my human age, I am three months old," Castiel said.

Dean turned to glare, making sure he kept his gaze up, but he could see all the naked flesh in his peripheral vision.

"Nice three-month-old you've got there, Dean," Sam said with a wave of his hand. He seemed to have no compunction when it came to Castiel's nudity. Sam crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door, a smug smile on his face.

"Dean was only helping me shave," Castiel said.

"Oh, really," Sam said, the smug expression growing.

"And then we..."

Dean rushed to clamp a hand over Castiel's mouth, his heart hammering with panic.

Sam opened the door and stepped out into the bright sunny day. "I'll just leave you to dress your boyfriend," Sam said, waggling his eyebrows. Before Dean could respond, Sam closed the door. Moments later, he opened it again, a leer on his face. "Have fun."

Dean lunged toward Sam, but stopped not wanting to uncover Castiel's mouth in case the wrong words came tumbling out. Once the door remained closed and it didn't seem that Sam was going to make another surprise appearance, Dean rushed forward and slid the chain in place to prevent any more unwanted interruptions. Dean placed his hands on his hips, his back to Castiel.

"I am sorry, Dean. I had only intended to correct the misunderstanding."

Dean raised a hand and shushed Castiel. "Just get dressed. We need to get back on the road." He paused. Dean hoped that the sound of shuffling meant that Castiel was doing as he was told. A few minutes passed before Dean turned around again. Castiel was dressed. He had his trench coat slung over his arm.

~

To say the next few hours on the road were awkward was an understatement. Dean kept all his attention on driving, trying hard to ignore anything else around him. Castiel sat in the back seat on the passenger side staring out the window. Sam hadn't said much since climbing into the front passenger seat and buckling up. Dean checked the gas gauge for the tenth time. They had a long drive ahead of them and he didn't want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way to get where they were going.

After a few more miles, Sam twisted in his seat and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. The buzz stopped when Sam flipped the phone open and placed it to his ear.

"What's up, Garth?" Sam nodded at Dean. "Yeah, sure. We're a few hundred miles away, but if you've got no one else, we can swing that. Text us the information." Sam paused. "Or e-mail it whatever." Sam closed the phone.

"We got a job?" Dean said, knowing full well that his question was redundant. He tried not to groan with frustration. A job meant a delay in arriving back at The Bunker. Castiel was still injured and they needed a break. "We're going to need to stop somewhere near Wi-Fi." Sam's phone chirped. He checked the text Garth must have sent.

"Did you know that the bunker the Men of Letters built is in the center of the geographical conterminous of the United States?" Castiel said after being silent the whole drive.

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror to see that Castiel sat staring out the window. He shook his head. "That's a non sequitur if I ever heard one."

"Yeah, Cas, that's cool," said Sam in a dismissive tone. He eyed Dean with a questioning look.

There was a long pause. Dean glanced at the gas gauge again. They were at a quarter tank now.

"Where's the job?" Dean said when Sam didn't offer up the information after reading what he assumed was Garth's text.

"A town called Boone, Iowa."

"Population 12,623," Castiel said. "Unless deaths and births have occurred in the past three months that I am not aware of."

Dean glanced over his shoulder long enough to shoot a glare at Castiel, while still keeping an eye on the road.

"42 degrees north," Castiel continued, ignoring Dean's glare. "53 degrees west."

"I'm surprised you aren't more accurate," Dean said.

"I can be if you wish, but I tend to find that it angers and frustrates you, Dean."

Dean huffed.

"Who needs a GPS when you have Cas, the walking encyclopedia on legs," Sam said with sarcasm.

"Okay, genius," Dean said deciding to ignore Sam's snide comment. "How far away are we from Boone?"

Castiel tilted his head as though he were listening for something. He raised a hand in the air, testing the wind, and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

Sam held his cell phone up. "I do. We can be there in two hours. There should be a motel that provides free Internet."

Dean groaned. "Why do we need a motel?"

"A base of operation while we're there. Garth isn't sure what we're dealing with and I need to look at all the information he sent."

"Fine," Dean said. He pressed down on the gas to speed up. The sooner they arrived the sooner this case could be over. Even if Dean didn't know what it was about, he wanted it done. He wasn't about to spend another night in a motel. He wanted his bed so he could sleep alone.

~

They arrived in Boone, Iowa just under two hours without breaking any speed limits. Dean pulled into the first motel they encountered that advertised free Wi-Fi. Castiel exited the car the moment it stopped. He wore a sour expression and looked uncomfortable. Dean guessed that Cas needed to use a washroom. His suspicions were confirmed when Cas rushed to the bathroom in the room Sam rented for them. They decided on a double with Queen-sized beds for now since they weren't sure how long this would take.

Sam set his laptop up on the small square table, connecting to the free Internet. Dean flopped down on one of the beds after tossing his jacket on a chair.

"I can't wait for Cas to describe his bathroom experience in excruciating detail," said Dean. He hadn't meant to blurt that out, but the room was too quiet and he had to say something. When Sam didn't respond, Dean continued. "Right, so we're here and I think I'm going to take a nap. I'm bushed. I did all the driving and I need some shut eye." Dean paused. Sam still didn't respond. "Okay." Dean propped himself up on his elbows. Castiel was taking a long time in the bathroom. Dean stood and sauntered over to the door, rapping against it with his knuckles. "Hey, Cas. The rest of us need a turn, too."

"I will be out shortly," Castiel called out.

Dean knew he would regret this. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Dean said with a flinch.

Sam chuckled and Dean glared at him. Sometimes Dean wished he could punch his brother.

Dean was relieved at the lack of response from the other side of the door and decided to sit back down when the bathroom door opened a crack. Sam stood from his seat, closing the lid of the laptop.

"I'll go scare up some food," Sam said. Dean couldn't help noticing the smug expression that morphed into a look of innocence when Dean snarled at Sam. "You two need some alone time," Sam snickered.

Before Dean could stop him, Sam rushed from the motel, snapping up his jacket on the way out. Dean cursed under his breath. The door of the bathroom opened and Castiel sauntered out, a hand towel in his hands.

"Well," Dean said. He knew he was a little too snippy in his tone, but he didn't care. This was ridiculous. This whole situation was ridiculous.

Dean brushed past Castiel, his urge to pee too powerful to ignore. He relieved himself and flushed, staring at his reflection. "You need to make a choice," he said to his mirror self. Something deep inside Dean told him that he already had. "What's it going to be? Are you gay now?" Dean raised a brow, and his reflection followed suite. Just because he'd had a few encounters of the 'more than friends' kind with Castiel didn't mean he now liked dick. Except there was no denying how he felt when he was with Castiel. Dean took a deep breath, and washed his hands, snatching a hand towel from the towel bar. When he went back into the room, Castiel was sitting on one of the beds, staring at a spot on the floor.

Castiel looked up. "Dean."

Dean rushed to the door, reaching for the knob. "I need something from the trunk." He didn't stop to see if Castiel acknowledged his comment. Dean exited the room, feeling unresolved at the thoughts he'd been contemplating in the bathroom. This was happening. This was real. He knew he felt that way about Cas. Something in Dean clenched up and his stomach did a flip at the thought of telling Sam.

"Hey."

Dean jumped at the touch on his shoulder. He spun round ready to clock whomever had decided to come up behind him. It was Sam with a tray of drinks and a large paper takeout bag. "Don't do that." Dean relaxed and then tensed up again, feeling a flash of guilt. He had to get this off his chest before it ate him up inside.

"What is it? Is it Cas? Did something happen while I was gone?" Sam widened his eyes and stared at the door to their room.

Dean shook his head, feeling his palms start to sweat at the thought of saying something to Sam about any of this. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe it was just an anomaly. It could just be a result of close quarters. Right. Dean rubbed his palms on his legs and motioned for Sam to follow him away from the front of the room.

"I need to talk to you about something," Dean said. He glanced back at the door, expecting it to open any moment. Castiel would be wondering why Dean rushed out so fast.

"What is it, Dean?"

Dean led Sam further away from the room to the side of the motel. They were the only guests so far as it was only three in the afternoon. Dean motioned to the car and Sam followed him. They climbed in and Sam set the food down on his lap.

"Come on before the food gets cold," Sam said after a long silence.

"Okay, I'm trying to build up to this and it's not easy, Sam. Cut me some slack." Dean took a deep breath, looking away from Sam's intense scrutiny. His gaze fell on the motel door of their room.

"Is this about Cas?" Sam said in a soft tone.

"Yeah" There was a long pause where Dean hoped that Sam would be able to read his mind, but no such luck. "Look, I think... I mean..."

"Come on, Dean."

"I think I like Cas." Dean blurted the words out before his lost his nerve.

"I like Cas, too," Sam said, eyeing Dean sideways.

"No, I mean, like, like as in like," said Dean, putting emphasis on the word like.

"As in like," Sam said. He glanced at the door to the motel, narrowing his eyes. Sam smirked. "It's about time."

Dean stared, mystified by Sam's comment.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "I figure that Cas has had a crush on you from day one."

Dean stared with mouth agape, trying to comprehend what Sam was saying.

"I'll get a separate room so you two can be alone," said Sam with a smile.

Dean didn't stop Sam when he got out of the car. He sat too stunned to move, watching as Sam entered the room. He saw Castiel in the room standing by the bed in the same spot Dean had left him in. Dean scrambled out of the car, locking the door before rushing to the room, afraid Sam would say something to Castiel before he could stop him. When he entered the room he found Sam and Castiel on one of the beds, about to eat the burgers and fries that Sam had purchased. Dean closed the door behind him.

Sam stood, brushing crumbs from his hands. He picked up one of the drinks. "I need to find the local library to do some research. You two stay here and sift through the emails Garth sent."

Dean nodded, and Sam stuffed his laptop into his bag. He clapped Dean's shoulder and smirked. "Go get him, tiger." Sam left them alone in silence.

Dean pulled his own laptop out and set it down on the table. He sat down in the chair connected to the Wi-Fi and downloaded the files. He grew nervous at Castiel's intense scrutiny.

"Sam said you wished to speak with me about something personal," Castiel said.

Dean snapped his head up to find Castiel wiping his hands on a napkin, his meal finished. Dean's own food sat untouched on the bed. "Yeah, I guess." Great, twice in one day he was going to have to go through a verbal revelation. Dean was going to kill Sam.

Castiel stood. Dean stood, too, his work forgotten for the time being. There was something important he needed to get it off his chest before any more misunderstanding happened.

"Look, Cas," Dean said. He wrung his hands twisting his fingers up until his left hand hurt, and flinched. Castiel smiled one of his encouraging smiles and nodded. He looked so wide-eyed and innocent. Dean wasn't sure this was the right thing to do.

"You can tell me anything, Dean," Castiel said after too long a silence.

Dean paced across the room trying to gather courage. He could do this. It wasn't that hard and maybe Castiel would just say 'no thanks, I don't swing that way' then Dean could keep going as he was going and get over this ridiculous notion that he felt anything beyond friendship for Castiel. Dean started when he realized that Castiel had taken him by the arm, nudged him over to the bed, and motioned for him to sit. Dean sat.

Castiel sat down beside him with his hands on his knees and smiled. "I don't bite," Castiel said with a grin. The smile went straight to Dean's gut like a punch. He knew what he had to do. Dean lunged at Castiel and kissed him hard on the mouth. When Castiel didn't struggle to get away, Dean took that as a good sign. Then Castiel was nudging Dean.

Dean broke the kiss and leaned away, his gaze locked on Castiel hoping that his eyes would say it all.

"Look, I don't do this. Well, at least not to angels," Dean said. "I mean former angels."

"Anna."

Castiel had to bring that up. "Okay, maybe I do have a thing for angels, even former ones, but it's not just that."

Castiel sighed and reached out to stroke Dean's cheek. "I may have a thing for those I have rescued from hell and purgatory."

"You do that often?" Dean quipped. His nerves were giving out on him. He needed to regroup because Castiel's gender was still something Dean needed to deal with. He wasn't sure that even if he did feel this way about Castiel, if he could carry any of this to the next level.

"If it helps, I have no gender," Castiel said.

"Not helping," Dean said, jumping up from the bed and pacing the room again. "Look, I'm just not used to this whole..." That wasn't quite right, as Castiel had reminded him just moments ago. "I think..."

Castiel stood, intense gaze locked on Dean. He removed his tie and tossed it over his shoulder. "Perhaps, you need to stop thinking." Castiel unbuttoned his shirt. Dean rushed forward and gripped Castiel's hands in his, stopping his actions. He took a deep breath and nodded.

Maybe Castiel was right. If he just let it happen, maybe he could do this. His body sure wanted to do this.

Dean sat back down on the bed and watched. When Castiel removed his shirt and let if fall to the floor, Dean's dick sure took notice. There was no denying how he felt. Castiel unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Dean reached out and pulled Castiel to him on the bed. The momentum took them backwards and Dean fell on Castiel, kissing him on the mouth. He fumbled with Castiel's pants. Castiel flinched and Dean slowed down careful not to hurt him. They moved together, lips locked, until they were on their knees. Together they unbuttoned and slipped Dean's shirt from his shoulders. Castiel tugged his t-shirt from his pants and they broke the kiss long enough so he could yank Dean's t-shirt over his head. His arms still trapped, Dean fell back and Castiel climbed on top of him, straddling Dean's hips. He bent to kiss Dean hard on the mouth.

Castiel undid Dean's pants and reared up long enough to yank the pants off with one smooth motion. Before Dean could comment, Castiel fell on top of him again, mashing their mouths together. His tongue plunged into Dean's mouth. Dean's cock pulsed, the sensations overwhelming him. He struggled to escape from the bonds of his shirt. The squirming and writhing caused delicious friction. Castiel stopped long enough to remove his own pants throwing them across the room. They landed on the television obscuring the screen.

Dean didn't care. He just wanted Castiel to do that thing with his hips again. They lay side by side. Dean bit his lip at the feel of exposed skin against his. They were both still in their underwear. Dean stroked Castiel's chest, sliding his hands down his sides to hook his underwear with his thumbs. He deepened the kiss, and slid Castiel's briefs off. They'd done this before, and Dean knew what he wanted. He stroked the length of Castiel's hard cock, jerking him several times. Castiel threw his head back and moaned deep in his throat. Dean slipped a leg over Castiel's legs, hairs sliding against each other. His cock pulsed again and Dean licked the length of Castiel's exposed throat.

"Fuck," Dean said. He wanted to say that Castiel was so hot like this, but that felt too mushy and out of place. Instead he would show Castiel just what he thought of him. He licked his throat again and sucked on his neck. Castiel humped the air and writhed beneath Dean. He tried to remove Dean's briefs but stumbled when Dean bit him. Castiel's cock jerked in Dean's hand. He stroked the length again a few more times.

Dean needed to be naked. He stopped long enough to remove his briefs, and fell on top of Castiel, licking and sucking Castiel's neck. He continued stroking Castiel's cock.

"Dean, I'm going to..." Castiel's throat bobbed and he pulsed again. Then Dean slid down and took Castiel's cock in his mouth. He sucked on the thick head and then licked the length. When he sat up Castiel watched him with hooded eyes, in a daze. Dean smirked and bent again to suck on the head of his dick. He stroked and sucked the length until he felt the telltale sign of impending climax. Dean pulled off and watched Castiel's body tense and jerk when he came, shooting all over Castiel's own belly. Dean jerked him until he was satiated.

With a deep sigh, Dean got up from the bed and sauntered to the bathroom to retrieve a damp towel to clean up the mess they had made. Castiel lay in a boneless sprawl across the bed. Dean kissed Castiel. This was fine, even great. Dean sat down and watched Castiel, stroking his cheek. His dick was still hard and he wanted Castiel. He leaned in and kissed Castiel, licking his mouth. Dean reached into his bag to retrieve a condom and lube and set the supplies down on the bed.

They kissed again, and moved positions, careful with Castiel's cracked ribs. Dean didn't have to urge Castiel. He twisted his body and Dean prepared himself, sliding the condom in place and lubricating himself. He didn't think. He just did and he knew the mechanics but he wasn't sure that he would get it right the first time. When Dean hesitated, Castiel urged him with his body language and hands. At first, Dean explored Castiel with one finger. He pushed inside, surprised when it was easier than he thought it would be. Then he lay down behind Castiel, adding a second finger. Castiel writhed beneath his touch, pushing toward Dean with urgency. Dean slipped his fingers out and guided himself to his entrance. The first push felt wrong and too tight. Castiel leaned into Dean, lying back against Dean. He twisted his head enough so that Dean could kiss him on the mouth. Though it was an awkward position, Castiel didn't seem to mind. Dean should have asked if he hurt, but Castiel seemed fine.

Anxious, Dean pushed again. The tightness felt like he'd never get inside, but Castiel pushed back again, pressing his back to Dean's chest to get closer. Dean gripped Castiel's hip with one hand and thrust again, this time sliding in deeper. His mind exploded. Castiel was so tight. Dean couldn't remember anything this tight, but he liked it, and he shoved harder. Castiel shuddered beneath him. Afraid he'd hurt Castiel, Dean paused, but Castiel pressed closer and gripped Dean's hand, squeezing it.

"Please, Dean," Castiel said with a nodded.

Dean kissed the back of Castiel's neck and shifted their position so that Dean could get better purchase. This time when he pulled out and thrust back it was easier with each push. It wouldn't take long. Castiel was so tight and Dean was so fucking close. He needed to come. They moved together until Castiel was on his hands and knees and Dean gripped his hips in his hands and fucked him with slow, steady thrusts.

It didn't take much longer at all. A few more thrusts and Dean came, pushing as deep and as hard as he could into Castiel. He gentled them back down to the bed, Dean still buried in Castiel. He still gripped Castiel's hip tight in one hand, Dean knew he would leave bruises, but Castiel didn't complain. He hadn't even cried out. A stab of insecurity hit Dean and he felt panic build afraid that he'd hurt Castiel. He slid out of Castiel. They were both silent. Dean wasn't sure what to say or do.

He stood and moved to the bathroom to clean up. Dean disposed of the used condom in the toilet and cleaned himself up. He stared at his reflection. "I love Cas," Dean said to test the waters. It felt good saying the words out loud, and he knew them to be true.

He jumped at Castiel's sudden reflection. The dim lighting made it seem as though Castiel had appeared from nowhere, but Dean knew that wasn't possible. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and smiled, placing a gentle kiss on Dean's shoulder. His bright shining eyes stared at the reflection, and Dean cracked an unsure smile.

"Did you want to shower now?" Castiel said.

Dean twisted in Castiel's embrace. After a moment in the warm, comfortable arms, he moved from Castiel's hug, marveling at the fact that their nakedness no longer faze him one bit.

The warm water felt good on Dean's hot skin and when Castiel slid in behind him to wrap his arms around Dean again, Dean twisted around to kiss Castiel hard on the mouth, sucking on his bottom lip. They stayed like that for a while letting the water wash away the evidence. Then Castiel broke the kiss to stare at Dean.

"I wish for these encounters to happen on a daily basis," Castiel said.

Dean blinked water out of his eyes. "Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?"

"I believe I am."

Dean kissed Castiel and smiled against his mouth when he felt Castiel's dick start to harden again. It was going to be a long, fun night.

End