Have Love, Will Travel - Part 12 (continued)

[squeemonster]

Dean never considered himself to be the damsel-in-distress type before, but he guesses there's a first time for everything. He thought he'd bought it when that asshole pulled that knife on him, sharp tip of the blade digging into his skin. So when he saw Castiel sneaking up behind the dude, his first reaction was relief, but almost simultaneously he felt an overwhelming sense of panic. If Cas got hurt or worse because of him, he'd never forgive himself. It'd be just one more person that Dean hurt just by being a part of his life.

And of course that was when Cas proceeded to beat the holy shit out of the guy. Dean chuckles to himself as he sits on Cas's bathroom counter, legs swinging as he waits for Muhammed Ali to find the antiseptic he'd misplaced. He knew the nerdy dude was built because he was sneaky enough to check him out whenever Cas took that stupid trench coat off, but still. Cas knowing how to fight and how to fight dirty has Dean imagining all kinds of things they could get up to in the sack, and he really needs to start thinking of something else before his dick decides to make its presence known.

Castiel finally returns to the bathroom, brow furrowed in concern. "Take your shirt off."

Dean can feel his eyes go wide. "Uh, shouldn't we, you know… talk first?"

Castiel gives him a bitch-face that he must have learned from Sam at some point. "There's blood on it. Please. Take it off. I don't want to see it."

Castiel's voice is faint, and Dean notices for the first time that the other man looks pale and drawn. And fuck, he remembers what Castiel told him, what happened all those years ago. He does as he's told, pulling the shirt up and over his head. He throws it on the floor, in the corner of the bathroom, and when he brings his eyes back to Castiel, the other man's eyes are closed and he's blowing out long exhales.

"It's alright, Cas," Dean says softly. "I'm alright. Because of you."

Castiel opens his eyes, gazes at Dean for a long moment, his face serious. "Why are you here, Dean?" he asks finally.

Dean can feel the butterflies in his stomach start fluttering up a storm. This is good, though, he thinks. We need to get this part out of the way. Castiel needs to know that he knows everything now, needs to know how sorry he is. Dean's afternoon with Sam did more than dredge up all his old wounds. It made him realize he doesn't want to live without Castiel anymore. That he's ready to start this next chapter of his life, no matter how scary as fuck it is.

He takes a deep breath. "I talked to Pam," he says.

Castiel's eyes go wide, a mirror of Dean's expression just moments before. "What?"

Dean shrugs. "Actually it was more her talking to me. She's kind of bossy."

Castiel's face twists in confusion. "Dean, I don't understand. Why… when did you talk to her?"

"She came to see me a few nights ago at the club," Dean replies. "You know, she really cares about you. That's a good friend you got there, Cas."

He watches as Castiel squeezes his eyes shut again and shakes his head. "What did she say to you?"

Dean stares down at his hands, fingers laced together as they hang between his thighs. "She told me the truth about the book," he says quietly.

Castiel tsks, staring down at the floor. "She shouldn't have done that. You should have heard it from me first."

Dean snorts. "Yeah, well, I would have, except I was an asshole who wouldn't let you speak before I stormed out of here."

Castiel shakes his head once more before lifting it and meeting Dean's eyes. "I don't blame you. I was a fool. I should have told you about the book before I even started writing it."

Dean throws up his hands. "Yeah, well, I was an asshole for not even giving you the chance to explain it before jumping to conclusions and slamming the door in your face. I don't know if you've noticed this about me or not, but I kinda have trust issues."

Castiel's lips quirk as he blinks slowly at Dean. "As do I." He looks down at Dean's hands and takes a step forward. "We are a pair, aren't we?"

Chuckling, Dean says, "Yeah, we are. Guess maybe it means we're better off with each other, instead of forcing anybody else to have to deal with us."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "Oh, how very romantic," he says sarcastically.

"You know what I mean, jerk," Dean mutters, as he reaches for Castiel's hand. He runs the pad of his thumb softly over Cas's knuckles, flinching at the broken skin where Cas had punched the mugger.

Cas inches forward, stepping between Dean's thighs as he pulls his hand closer. "That maybe we were supposed to find each other?"

And that's… Dean doesn't really believe in all that destiny shit. But he's had this feeling, almost since the first moment he laid eyes on Cas, that this was supposed to happen. And it kinda creeps him out at the same time it excites him to know that Cas has felt the same. "Yeah," he replies, breathlessly.

Castiel's eyes are half-lidded as he takes another step closer, and Dean has to widen the V of his legs to accommodate him.

"Dean, I…" Castiel pauses, eyes flicking to Dean's throat before continuing. "I need to clean up that cut."

Dean expels a breath and bites back a curse. He's pretty sure he must have the world's worst case of blue balls in the history of ever, especially after the makeout session from a week ago was so abruptly ended, thanks to his freakout.

Castiel leans over Dean's leg without pulling away to turn on the faucet, running warm water over a washcloth. Dean watches as he rubs a little soap over the cloth, then hisses as Castiel dabs lightly over the cut with it.

"Sorry," Castiel murmurs, face apologetic as he continues to rub the soapy cloth over the cut. Dean stares up at the ceiling and grits his teeth, determined not to seem more like a wuss than he already does. Once Castiel is satisfied it's clean enough, he pokes a Q-tip soaked in peroxide over the wound, and Dean huffs at the sensation.

"It tickles," he says, and Castiel smiles.

"You were making it tickle on purpose, weren't you?" Dean asks, mock-offended.

Castiel's smile gets wider, and Dean can feel his heart melt a little bit because it's all gummy, and Cas's nose crinkles up in what must be the most adorable way he's ever seen.

"I've heard that distracting small children by tickling them makes them not notice when a wound is being treated," Castiel replies.

"Hey! So you're saying I'm acting like a wussy little baby, is that it?" Dean protests.

"Well, if the Sesame Street bandaid fits…" Castiel lets his words trail off.

Dean rolls his eyes and looks down at Castiel's hand. "Yeah, well we'll see how tough you are when I start fixing up your hand."

He reaches forward and grabs the hand, opening Castiel's fist to spread out his fingers. He feels a pang of sympathy when he hears Cas hiss in pain. He's had his fair share of bloody knuckles, so he knows how painful it can be. He rubs small, soothing circles on Castiel's palm as they both stare down at the wound, and the question on Dean's mind bubbles to the surface before Dean can stop the words from leaving his mouth.

"Cas, how did you get up the nerve to save me like that? Weren't you scared?" he whispers.

He watches as Castiel goes still, his eyes staring at the counter next to Dean. He's starting to think Cas won't answer him after many seconds are met with silence, but just as he's about to pull his hand away, Castiel opens his mouth to speak.

"I was terrified," he whispers hoarsely. "I… when I first saw what was happening, I froze. I couldn't move. I - I kept picturing that night with my mother, remembering what happened. Then I saw the man press the knife closer, and… and I knew I had to move, I had to do something. I couldn't stand there and watch another person I love get hurt."

Dean doesn't move or say anything in response. Hearing Castiel say that he loves him makes him feel as if he's been pushed off this cliff they've been tiptoeing around for weeks. He's suspected that Cas feels this way, of course. How could he not, given what he's been planning to do for Dean and for his brother? But he never allowed himself to actually hope for it, because then he'd be setting himself up for disappointment if Cas didn't feel the same as him.

And he does love Cas, he's known it in the back of his mind for a while now. His talk with Sam this afternoon is what made him actually admit it to himself. But admitting it to himself and saying the words out loud to Cas are two very different things, and even though Cas said it first, Dean still can't bring himself to spit the words out. Not yet, not without vomiting all over himself and Cas, from fear and nerves.

Dean watches Castiel's gaze move along his skin before finding the wound on his neck.

"It doesn't look as deep now that I've cleaned it up," Castiel murmurs. He lifts a hand to reach out and touch Dean's neck, but hesitates, hand suspended in midair. His eyes dart to meet Dean's. "I'm still not used to being able to touch you now," he says.

Dean smiles. "You're allowed to touch me whenever and wherever you want, from now on."

Castiel keeps his eyes on Dean's as he leans forward slowly, placing a hand on the counter on either side of Dean's hips. "Oh, I plan on it," he whispers.

Dean hisses as he feels Cas's lips ghost across the wound on his neck. He closes his eyes and reaches forward, curling his fingers through the belt loops of Cas's jeans and tugging him closer. At the first touch of Cas's tongue along his neck, Dean fucking whimpers, and he'd be embarrassed at showing his need so quickly and easily if he wasn't needing it just so goddamn much.

Castiel lets go of the counter to slide his fingers along the skin of Dean's back, and Dean can feel gooseflesh popping up all over his body. He tightens his thighs around Cas's waist, pulling him in even closer, not even ashamed of the growing bulge in his jeans. He wants Cas to know how much he wants this, how hard he is for him. He wraps his arms around Cas's shoulders, and grunts in frustration at Cas still wearing his shirt. He needs to feel skin on skin right the fuck now.

"Take that fucking shirt off, Cas," he mutters.

Castiel pulls away from licking Dean's clavicle long enough to pull the shirt over his head, then leans back in quickly, but before he can make contact, Dean places his hands on Cas's shoulders, freezing him in place. He can't stop staring at Cas, the way his lips are pink and even plumper than normal, his cheeks flushed, his eyelids heavy but doing nothing to mask the desire evident in his eyes. His hair is mussed and sticking out in every direction, and Dean can't resist reaching up to run his fingers through it before getting a good grip and tugging Cas flush against his own body.

He tightens his legs around the man, thrusting his erection against Cas's stomach as he looks into his eyes, their lips mere inches apart now. "God, I have needed you for so fucking long, Cas," he whispers.

Castiel blinks slowly, tongue peeking out to wet his lips. "You've got me now, for as long as you'll have me," he murmurs. He closes the distance between them, runs his tongue along the seam of Dean's lips, teasing, and Dean opens his mouth with a moan.

Dean's grip in Cas's hair tightens as their tongues meet and slide together, wet and hot and perfect, Dean loving the taste of Cas's mouth and wondering if the rest of him will taste the same. He sucks at Cas's tongue before pulling back to bite at his upper lip, something he's wanted to do since the first time he gave Cas a lap dance. Cas fucking growls at that, and begins sucking and biting along Dean's jaw.

Dean can feel his eyes roll back in his head as Castiel works his way down his throat and to his chest, alternating between licking, and biting, and sucking. When he pulls a nipple between those sinful lips, Dean bucks his hips and cries out, garnering a chuckle from Cas.

"Sensitive nipples, hmm?" Cas teases, as he licks a path over to Dean's other nipple.

Dean mutters between groans, "Oh, you have no fucking idea, dude… oh, sweet fucking Lord …"

He gasps when Castiel rolls the hard bud between teeth and clamps his lips around it, looks down to find Cas staring up at him as he suckles. Moaning like the porn star he always suspected he was meant to be, Dean says, voice stuttering, "I suggest you m-m-move along, unless you want me t-to come just from this, okay?"

Castiel smirks around the nipple, but he does as Dean suggests and begins to lick a path down Dean's chest to his stomach. He stops for a moment to swirl the tip of his tongue around Dean's navel, and as he does so Dean can feel fingers sliding along his thigh, to the waistband of his jeans.

As the fingers curl and uncurl around the top of his jeans, Dean notices that Castiel's hands are shaking. He reaches up to cradle Cas's face and leans forward, whispering against Cas's quick breaths. "Hey…hey, you're okay, right? Is this… is it too much?"

Dean can't believe the words as they're leaving his mouth, because if Cas actually says, yes, it's too much, we need to stop, he wouldn't be surprised if his balls exploded from sheer frustration. He knows he will stop it, and do what he can to make Cas feel better and give him what he needs, but damn, he really hopes that doesn't have to happen.

Castiel huffs against his mouth, breath sweet and hot. "It is too much… but not enough, at the same time, if that makes sense."

Dean laughs, a deep, throaty laugh that pushes him into Cas, and he takes a moment to suck on Cas's tongue again before answering. "I think anything that ends up with us both naked makes perfect sense to me."

Castiel laughs silently against his skin. "Speaking of which, why don't you take these pants off, since I can't seem to get my fingers to work," he suggests, voice shaky.

And that's something Dean doesn't need to hear twice, at least not at a moment like this. He reaches for the button of his jeans, fingers flicking it open and fumbling at his zipper. It takes him three tries to get a grip on the tab, because he catches the look on Cas's face and it makes his mouth go dry and his nerves shoot through the roof, because the dude is fucking focused on his groin, eyes and mouth set with a determined and hungry expression. If Dean didn't know better, he'd think Cas hadn't eaten in months and was staring at a juicy cheeseburger or something, and that thought both concerns him when he imagines Cas eating a faceful of his dick, and excites the hell out of him, because yeah, Cas is just that hungry for him, nervous or not.

His stupid fingers finally pull the stupid zipper down, and then he hooks them under the waistband to try to pull his jeans down his thighs. It's a clumsy effort, mostly because of the awkward position and because Dean is so hard it hurts and he can't concentrate on anything else right now. Castiel lets loose an exasperated breath before grabbing Dean's jeans and yanking the pants down and off his legs himself, which is a fairly impressive feat, considering Dean is still wearing his sneakers. But Cas gets rid of those quickly as well, pulling them and Dean's socks off and throwing them to one corner of the bathroom, leaving Dean wearing only his boxer briefs.

Slow hands glide up Dean's thighs and reach for the waistband of his underwear, and Dean lifts himself up so that Cas can roll them off. As he does so, he leans forward, nuzzling his nose against Cas's neck and behind his ear. He pulls an earlobe into his mouth, mouthing at the flesh as Cas pulls his boxers down past his knees. Dean's cock is rock-hard, and thwacks against his stomach as it's freed from the constraints of his underwear, and he can't help but whimper at the feel of the warm air between them caressing his dick.

Castiel groans as Dean sucks and nibbles on his earlobe before he pulls away to begin licking along Dean's chest again, and Dean can feel his breath quicken in anticipation. He realizes that he's buck-naked here, while Castiel is still wearing his jeans, but before he can form a protest he feels a tongue along the slit of his dick and all coherent thought promptly leaves his brain.

"Oh God, Cas, you're gonna kill me tonight, aren't you?" he stutters, as Cas moves his tongue to the juncture of thigh and hip, ignoring his swollen shaft.

Cas chuckles against Dean's hip, and looks up at him between eyelashes. "Killing you would negate all the plans I have," he says, biting at the tender skin of Dean's inner thigh. Dean chews his lip, struggling to keep from fisting Cas's hair and pulling that delicious mouth back over to his dick.

"Would you like to know what's first on my list of things I want to do to you, Dean?" Cas asks, tongue licking circles around Dean's hipbone. "The first thing I want to do is suck your cock and drink you in as you come down my throat."

"Oh holy Jesus Christ, Cas, I-"

"What's the first thing you want me to do, Dean? I want to hear you say it," Castiel demands, and for someone with shaky hands who's claiming to be nervous, he sure does seem to be bossy.

Dean bites down on his lip, hesitant to voice what he wants because he's never really been one for dirty talk and, stripper job notwithstanding, he's always been a vanilla type of guy. But something about Castiel must just bring out the nasty in him, because next thing he knows he's begging, "I want you to put that fucking mouth on me and suck my cock, Cas, please…"

And he can't help himself anymore, he has to thread his fingers through Castiel's hair, has to urge those lips back around him before he busts a ball from the absolute need to fuck that mouth.

Suddenly, blessedly, his dick is encased in the wet, velvety vacuum, and it is, by far, the best thing Dean has ever felt. He half-heartedly goes to pull his hands out of Cas's hair, but jumps when he feels Cas's hands clench on his own, not letting him pull them away. When he looks down, Cas is staring up at him as his tongue teases down his shaft.

"Don't let go," Castiel whispers, before taking Dean back into his mouth. He inches his way slowly down Dean's cock, taking him in almost to the base before stopping. He swallows, squeezing the head with the constriction of his throat, and then he sucks so hard his cheeks go hollow and Dean wonders if he practiced by sucking a watermelon through a straw. Dean slings his head back, hitting it against the mirror behind him and probably giving himself a concussion, but he doesn't even give a shit because Cas is swallowing him down like there's no tomorrow or even no next five minutes.

Castiel keeps sucking as he pulls back up Dean's shaft, and uses one hand to fondle Dean's balls while the other hand begins to fist Dean's cock. He looks back up at Dean as he starts to lick and suckle the crown of Dean's dick, eyes fluttering shut every few seconds as he moans filthily at the slit, acting for all the world as if he's sucking on the tastiest popsicle he's ever had.

Dean licks and bites on his lower lip as he watches his dick slide between Cas's lips, and as Cas squeezes the shaft, Dean's hips buck involuntarily, causing Cas to take him in farther. Cas's eyes go wide, and Dean is about to apologize when he pulls his mouth off his dick with an audible pop.

"Dean, get down," Cas says, panting, eyes wide.

Dean wonders if Cas is pissed, not being able to decipher what he's thinking by the tone of his voice. He jumps down off the counter, his dick bobbing at the movement, as he watches Cas kneel down in front of him.

Cas reaches up to grab Dean's hands, placing them back along his head and into his hair. He looks up at Dean and licks his lips as he whispers, "Fuck my mouth."

As Cas takes the head of his dick between his lips, Dean tries to remember if he sold his soul to the devil anytime recently, because he has no fucking idea what he must have done to deserve someone as hot as this. But he decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, as he tightens his grip on Castiel's hair and begins to thrust.

He moves slowly at first, shallow incursions that have his cock just barely moving in the channel of Castiel's mouth. But when Cas grunts and slides his hands up the back of Dean's thighs, squeezing the globes of Dean's ass and pulling him deeper into his mouth, Dean gets the point. He moves deeper and faster, staring down, mesmerized, as he watches his cock disappear between those full lips. It's messy and wet, as Castiel's saliva mixes with Dean's precome, slicking up his lips and drooling down his chin. But Castiel doesn't seem to care; in fact, he moans around Dean's dick, eyes closing shut as he squeezes Dean's ass, finger sliding up and down the crease.

Between the vibrations from Castiel moaning and him squeezing and teasing his ass, Dean can feel his balls tightening up. He looks down at Cas, opens his mouth to warn him he's about to come, but the look Cas gives him tells him Cas already knows. One last thrust into Cas's tight mouth, the head of his cock bouncing off the back of Cas's throat, has Dean exploding, fingers gripping Cas's head tightly and holding him in place as he spills himself down his throat.

Castiel stares up at him as he drinks him down, swallowing and sucking everything Dean gives him. Dean leans back against the counter as his dick continues to pulse in Cas's mouth, and he strokes Cas's hair gently, watching Cas continue to suck and lick. Once Cas realizes there's nothing left to milk, he pulls off, kneeling back on his heels and smiling up at Dean as he wipes his mouth.

"You are one dedicated sonofabitch, you know that?" Dean says fondly. He pulls Castiel up to stand against him, and wraps his arms around the man's waist. As Cas leans in to kiss him, Dean can feel his cock is stiff, and straining against his jeans. Dean sucks on his tongue, tasting the salt-tang of his own jizz before pulling away and resting his forehead against Castiel's.

"Cas, I want you to fuck me," he whispers, voice raspy.

Castiel groans, rubbing his erection against Dean's hip. "Are you sure?"

Dean chuckles, kissing his way down Castiel's throat. "I think I've wanted to feel you inside me from the first moment I saw you, so yeah, I'm pretty fucking sure."

He feels Castiel shudder, his body hard and tight as he wraps his arms around Dean. "Let's go to the bedroom," he murmurs, entwining his fingers with Dean's own and leading him out of the bathroom.

Once in the bedroom, Dean sits on the edge of the bed and watches as Castiel strips off the rest of his clothes. When he's down to his boxers, Dean holds out a hand, urging Castiel closer so that he can remove them himself. As it's released from the confines of his underwear, Castiel's cock bounces against his stomach, hard and already leaking a droplet of precome. Dean leans forward to swirl his tongue along the crown, mouth watering at the taste of Cas, impossibly even better than the taste of his tongue.

Castiel stares down at him, eyes wide and lips parted, as Dean opens his mouth and takes him in. As he begins to suck in earnest, Cas grunts and pulls away.

"I thought you wanted me to fuck you," he chides.

Dean smirks. "I do, but I couldn't resist a taste when it's right there in front of me, looking all juicy and tasty like that."

Castiel bites his lip, wrapping a hand around his cock and pumping it lazily. "I guess you'll just have to taste your fill some other time, then," he says.

Dean leans forward to swipe his tongue one last time around the slit, and before Castiel pulls away, he rubs the head of his dick along the side of Dean's mouth and along his cheek. Dean can feel the wetness from his spit and Castiel's precome marking his face, and the possessive look in Cas's eyes makes Dean's own soft dick twitch in interest. Damn, Dean thinks happily. Cas is one kinky bastard.

Cas raises a hand and places it on Dean's shoulder, pushing him back onto the bed. "Roll over onto your stomach," he says, huskily.

Dean crawls onto the bed, tucking his knees underneath him and sticking his ass up into the air. He's never done this before; all his times with other dudes consisted mostly of just blowjobs, handjobs and dry humping, so, to say he's nervous about it is an understatement. But he wants it, he knows he does, and he takes several deep breaths, trying to prepare and relax himself as best he can.

He doesn't expect to feel gentle hands rubbing along his spine, or soft kisses teasing along the dip between his buttocks and lower back. And when those hands spread open his cheeks, he sure as hell doesn't expect to feel a kiss against his hole. He sucks in a breath at the feel of warm lips teasing his ass, and when a hot, wet tongue probes his rim, he gasps and cries out in astonishment.

"Ssshhh, just relax and enjoy this, Dean," Castiel whispers against his ass cheek, and the second time Cas's tongue licks a path into his hole, Dean goes with it, squeezing his eyes shut and grunting incoherent words.

He pretty much loses all sense of reality after that, as Castiel's tongue fucks his ass, licking and sucking him open, leaving him raw, and vulnerable, and needy in ways he's never even fathomed before. He pushes his ass back against Castiel every time Cas's tongue pulls away, crying out and pleading for Cas not to stop, begging for it like a fucking cat in heat.

When Dean feels a finger slide in along with Castiel's tongue, he loses the ability to speak. He mouths and bites at the blanket underneath him, clenching the sheets between his fists in a vain attempt to hang on for dear life. There's a moment of emptiness then, and Dean hears a noise, looks over his shoulder to see Castiel opening a bottle of lube, slicking up his fingers, his own eyes stark with what looks like amazement and sheer joy. Dean can't even look at that much naked emotion, and he buries his face back in the bed as two fingers press in, followed by a third, and before Dean knows it, he's getting finger fucked fast and hard. On every third swipe, Cas's fingers curl and just barely touch Dean's prostate, and all Dean can think about is just how amazing it's going to feel when Cas's cock is ramming into him.

Then, suddenly, he's empty again, Cas having pulled away, and fuck if Dean doesn't whimper, embarrassing the shit out of himself. But he can hear a condom wrapper being ripped, and he turns his head to watch Cas over his shoulder, almost drooling at what he sees. Goddamn, Cas is hot. His shoulders are broad, with muscles rippling and corded along his neck and arms. He doesn't have a six-pack, but his stomach is lean and taut, all the same. The dude's got hipbones that make Dean want to tattoo a mark there that says, "Property of Dean," and he makes a mental note to spend a lot of time on them tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, and then pretty much every day for the foreseeable future.

But the star of the show right now is Castiel's cock. It's not as thick as Dean's but it's long, so long that Dean wonders if it'll punch right through his prostate as Cas is fucking him, and his mouth begins to water at the realization that he's about to find out. The shaft curves just a bit to the left, and the head is red and swollen and gorgeous. Dean licks his lips and almost reconsiders, almost begs Cas to let him suck him dry instead. But as Cas begins to roll the rubber onto his dick with shaky hands, Dean knows there's nothing in the world he wants more right now than to feel Cas inside him.

Cas looks up and meets Dean's gaze once the condom is rolled all the way on. Dean sees a flicker of panic in his eyes before Cas scoots forward on his knees.

"Roll over onto your back," Cas says, voice quiet and strained.

Dean rolls over and spreads his legs wide to accommodate Cas. He reaches a hand forward, grabs onto Cas's bicep and pulls him down and on top of him. Cas places an arm on either side of Dean's head, threading fingers through Dean's hair as he leans down and places a kiss on his lips. Dean closes his eyes and opens his mouth, licking along Cas's lips until they part. They kiss slowly, tongues twisting lazily along each other until Cas shifts and his dick slides against the crease of Dean's ass. Dean moans, and the kiss quickly deepens, Cas's grip in Dean's hair tightening as he begins to fuck Dean's mouth with his tongue.

"Cas," Dean murmurs. "I need you inside me… don't make me beg for it, dude."

Castiel moans, pulling back to kiss along Dean's jaw. "I don't know how long I'm going to last, Dean. I've wanted this for so long-"

"I don't care how long you last, just… show me, show me how much you've wanted this, give it to me, Cas…"

Dean whimpers as Castiel pulls away, but shuts up when he realizes Cas is just reaching for the lube. He closes his eyes as he listens to the obscene, wet-slick sounds of Cas rubbing lube along his dick, and then Castiel is breathing words across Dean's lips.

"Look at me, Dean," he whispers, before placing a chaste kiss on Dean's lips. "I want to see you when I do this. I want you to see me."

Dean nods wordlessly, fixes his eyes to piercing blue as Castiel runs his hands along the back of Dean's thighs, pulling Dean's legs up and onto his shoulders. Dean holds his breath, then forces himself to let it go as it occurs to him that it's probably not such a good idea to be this tense when someone's trying to stick their dick in you. His breath hitches when he feels the hard, blunt head of Cas's cock against his entrance, and again he forces himself to regulate his breathing as he feels Cas breach his rim.

The pain at first is almost too much, even if Cas worked him open with his fingers. Dean grits his teeth against the burning sensation as Cas inches forward ever so slowly, but he doesn't take his eyes off Cas, and he sees it all in Cas's gaze, surprise, happiness, pleasure, a wash of emotions that mesmerize Dean, makes it worth any discomfort he's feeling as Cas spreads him open.

It's eked out and careful, and once Castiel is fully sheathed inside Dean he stops to stare down, panting as he looks on in wonder. Dean can feel the ache start to lessen, can begin to see how this over-full feeling might start eventually feeling more good than bad, as he stares back up at Cas. He can't help but smirk as he asks, "How's it feeling for you, Cas?"

How anyone can blush when they're balls-deep in some guy's ass is a question for the ages, but Castiel manages to do it. He smiles down at Dean as he answers, "I feel like your heat and tightness are going to burn me alive or make me explode, but I don't ever want it to stop."

Dean experimentally clenches his ass, and is rewarded with a fucking delicious moan from Cas. "Well, I heard a rumor that it's even better if we, you know, start moving," he jokes.

Cas stares at him for a second longer before pulling back and nudging in again, as slowly as before, inch by excruciating inch, his eyes closing and a gasp punching out of him as he eases forward. Dean instinctively rocks up to meet him, running his hands down Castiel's back to his butt and pulling him in as deep as he can, as Castiel dips down to bury his face in Dean's neck.

"Dean," Castiel whispers against Dean's skin, his breath misting hot there, and Dean feels an overwhelming surge of tenderness that has him cant his head and press his lips to Castiel's temple.

"I know," he murmurs. "I know."

Castiel groans, low and harsh, pulls his ass up and out again, thrusts his hips back in so hard this time that Dean is convinced his balls left a bruise as they slapped against his ass. The sensation as his ass fits itself around Cas as he drives in makes Dean abruptly dizzy with lust, and he squeezes his eyes shut and throws his head back. "Fuck yeah, just like that, Cas," he groans.

Castiel needs no more encouragement, he begins to pump Dean's ass hard and fast, rolling his hips each time he's deep, rubbing Dean's prostate and pulling curses and moans from Dean. The only thing better than Cas's dick ramming his prostate is watching the expressions and hearing the sounds Cas is making. Dean never would have expected Cas to be this forceful and this wild, but now he's finding his rhythm he's giving Dean the ass-reaming of his life. It's a good thing Dean doesn't plan to have sex with anybody else anytime soon or ever, because Cas is pretty much ruining him for anybody else at this point.

And even though Dean emptied himself down Castiel's throat not too long ago, he can feel his own dick already start swelling with need again. He raises an arm above his head to grab onto the headboard as he lowers his other hand to grab onto his dick, stripping himself fast to keep up with Cas. The sounds of Cas's dick sliding in and out of his hole and Cas's balls slapping against his ass are so pornographic and hot that they bring Dean really close embarrassingly fast to coming again. He only hopes he can last longer than Cas, given he's already shot his wad once tonight.

When he feels Cas pause in fucking him, he opens his eyes to find Cas staring down at his hand, pumping his cock. Cas bats away his hand and wraps his own long fingers around Dean's shaft, resuming his thrusts and stripping Dean's dick at the same time. Dean would find it unfair that the dude can synchronize and do both so well at the same time if he weren't the one who was benefiting from it.

Suddenly, Castiel's thrusts become erratic and stuttered, and Dean makes an effort to keep his eyes open so he can watch Cas lose it. The body above him goes stiff, and Cas sinks himself in hard and deep one last time before crying out. The sensation of the head of Cas's rigid cock butting against his prostate sends Dean over the edge as well, and he feels his ass clench down on Cas's shaft, milking him as his own come spurts across his stomach and chest. Cas continues to fist Dean's cock, working him through his orgasm as his own climax rakes through his body.

Dean slides his hands back up to Cas's shoulders and neck, pulling him down for a kiss. Their tongues caress each other sleepily, and Dean cradles Cas's head between his hands before letting Cas pull away so that he can slide his softening dick out of Dean's ass and remove the condom. Dean starts looking around the room for tissues or a shirt or something he can wipe his spunk off with, and snorts when Castiel throws some Kleenex his way.

"So, uh, what are you doing with a nightstand full of rubbers and lube anyway?" Dean asks, teasing.

Cas smirks as he pulls a corner of the bedspread up and motions for Dean to scoot over so he can crawl under the covers. "I was feeling very optimistic before our date last weekend," he admits, pulling the covers up and over them.

Dean barks out a laugh. "I hope you were optimistic enough to get the economy sizes," he replies, pulling Castiel against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. "This is okay, right?" he asks, suddenly not sure if Cas meant for him to stay the night.

Castiel raises his head to look at Dean, confused. "Is what okay?"

Dean vaguely motions to them lying in bed. "This… me staying here, spending the night? Is this what you want?"

Castiel stares at Dean very seriously before leaning forward and placing a kiss on his lips. "Yes. This is what I want. Indefinitely."

Dean smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling. "I can work with that."

He listens to Castiel's breathing become slower and more regular as he starts to fall asleep. He continues to stare up at the ceiling, trying to go to sleep himself but not having much luck. It's been a long time since he's tried to sleep in someone else's bed, especially with that someone else curled up against him. At one point, Castiel mumbles something incoherent in his sleep, and rolls over onto his side, his back to Dean. Dean smiles as he stares at the man's bedhead fondly, and rolls over onto his side, sliding up behind Castiel and wrapping an arm around his waist.

He nuzzles his nose behind Castiel's ear and kisses along the nape of his neck before whispering against his soft skin, "Love you, too."

***************************

The following morning, Castiel wakes to an empty bed and a room full of sunshine. He blinks around blearily, looking for signs of Dean's whereabouts but not finding a clue of it until he hears dishes clattering in the kitchen. He pulls on pajama bottoms and stumbles down the hall and into the kitchen, where he finds Dean standing in front of the open fridge, his back to Castiel. There's a pan of bacon frying on the stove, and a mixing bowl of what looks to be egg yolks on the counter. Zeppy is standing at Dean's feet with her tail wagging, looking up at Dean as if he is a god and she his faithful servant, waiting for scraps.

"Good morning, Dean," Cas rasps, his throat apparently sore from last night.

Dean jumps and turns around quickly, smiling brightly at Castiel. "Good morning, angelcakes!"

They stare at each other across the counter awkwardly, Castiel not quite sure how to respond.

"Okay, yeah, 'angelcakes' is a big no-"

"I would say so, yes-"

"-Just thought I'd test it out and see how it sounded," Dean continues, smiling bashfully. "So, uh - you hungry? 'Cause I am starving, since somebody kinda wrung me dry last night, if you know what I mean."

Dean winks lewdly, and Castiel finds that he suddenly can't believe Dean is here. He smiles purely by reflex, feels his face turning pink. "Yes, I think I am quite hungry, as well. Do you need any help?"

Dean shrugs and shakes his head. "Nah, I got it all taken care of. You've got a pretty well-stocked kitchen, man. I'm impressed."

"Yes, well, given how I don't like to go out shopping, it serves me well to stay organized and plan ahead," Castiel replies.

"Okay, so, I took a shower when I first woke up, and I'm pretty sure I left enough hot water if you wanna take one, too. I can finish up stuff here and have it all ready when you get out, if you want," Dean says, whisking eggs in a bowl.

"That sounds wonderful, Dean. Thank you," Castiel responds, turning to walk back down the hall and towards the bathroom. Before he can take more than three steps though, he feels arms wrap around his waist and pull him back, and Dean leans down and kisses the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Don't take too long," Dean murmurs against Castiel's skin, hand sliding down and under the fabric of his pajamas to wrap around his cock.

Castiel throws his head back and lays it against Dean's shoulder, turning his head to give him better access to his neck. "If you keep this up I'll never even leave," he scolds half-heartedly.

Dean chuckles as he releases him and splays a hand between his shoulder blades, pushing him forward gently. "Point taken. Go on, go get cleaned up for the food orgy," he teases.

Castiel laughs as he walks down the hall.

***************************

Half an hour later, Castiel is clean and sitting at the kitchen table, hair still wet and making the hem around his neckline damp. Dean busies himself in the kitchen, pouring mugs of coffee, adding food to plates, and buttering toast. What he brings to the table is enough to feed a small army, Castiel is convinced. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, pancakes, and toast spill off their plates, and Dean drowns everything on his plate in maple syrup.

"You want some syrup, too?" he asks, offering the bottle to Castiel.

Castiel shakes his head. "No, I just keep it here for when my brother visits, actually. And I think you're consuming enough for the both of us."

Dean snorts and begins to dig into his food. Castiel takes a bite of the hash browns and eggs, and he has to admit Dean is a pretty good cook. He pauses between bites to take a look around the table and the kitchen counter.

"Where's the fruit?" he asks.

Dean's brows knit together in confusion. "What fruit?"

"The fruit in the fridge. I've got strawberries, pineapple, melon… they'd all taste wonderful with what we've got here."

Dean raises his eyebrows. "You're kidding me, right? You don't eat fruit with a meal like this. It'd ruin it."

Castiel rolls his eyes at Dean before pushing away from the table and walking into the kitchen. "Are you that against eating something healthy that you can't appreciate it when something is delicious?"

"Oh fer… you're just like Sammy, aren't you? You gonna start ribbing me about eating better now, too?"

"If I think you need to take better care of yourself, which I do, then yes, I will start ribbing you," Castiel replies loftily. He grabs a plastic bowl of fruit from the fridge and sits back down at the table, eyeing Dean carefully. "Speaking of Sam, we haven't really discussed the book," he broaches quietly.

Dean looks at him out of the corner of his eye as he chews. "What about it?"

Castiel leans back in his chair. "Well, for one thing, are you okay with me continuing to write it? I will, of course, still want you to give final approval on it before I allow it to be published."

Dean sets his fork down on his plate as he finishes chewing. "Cas… I trust you, okay? I trust you to not write stuff about me that I don't want made public." He shrugs. "I never stopped trusting you. I was just stupid, and freaked out, and scared before, is all."

Castiel stares at him, a small smile playing across his lips. "I appreciate that, Dean. But I still want you to read it before I send it to Pam. For my own peace of mind, and also because your opinion of it is important to me."

Dean stares back at him, eyes wide. "Yeah. Okay. I will," he says, rubbing the back of his neck as a red tinge creeps up along his face.

"And there's also the question of the proceeds of the book for Sam," Castiel states.

Dean shakes his head vehemently. "No. That's not gonna happen."

"Dean, I-"

"No, Cas, I can't let you do that. It's not right. Sam is my responsibility."

"And all I'm saying is I want to help you with that responsibility. I care about Sam, and I care about you, and I want to help you both-"

"It's not your place, Cas!" Dean snaps, scooting his chair back from the table with a screech of the legs against the hardwood floor. "Can't you see, if you do this, how it would look? It'd look like I just hooked up with you for the money, and dammit, Cas, I can't-"

"Dean, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Castiel spits out, angry in spite of his determination to explain this rationally to Dean. "I don't care what anyone else thinks, for one, and for two, this book will be just as much yours as it will ever be mine."

Dean's face scrunches up in frustration. "How do you figure that one?"

Castiel sighs, exasperated. "If it weren't for you, this book wouldn't even exist. You inspired this book, you are its muse. As is Sam. The characters… even though they aren't you, their existence was inspired by you. So I owe it to you, and to Sam, to compensate you for it. That's all I'm saying."

Dean walks to the kitchen and leans over the counter, facing Castiel. He lays his head in his hands and stands in silence for several minutes. Castiel watches him, waiting to hear what he's thinking about.

Finally, Dean raises his head and looks at him. "I'm gonna pay you back for it some day."

Castiel shakes his head. "Dean, no, I-"

"That's the only way I'm gonna agree to this, Cas. You gotta let me pay you back."

Castiel sighs, staring up at the ceiling as he rubs a hand across his mouth. "Alright. But there's no set timeframe, and no interest. You pay me a little bit at a time."

"Fine."

"Fine."

They gaze at each other across the countertop, jaws set in determination. Dean breaks away first, looking down to pull something out of a drawer. He returns to the table and places the object in front of Castiel, next to his plate. Castiel looks down at it, amused when he realizes it's an origami bird, made out of notebook paper.

"What is this?" Castiel asks, staring up at Dean.

Dean shrugs. "Open it and find out."

Castiel almost doesn't want to open it and destroy the bird that Dean made, but he does so anyway, eager to discover what's inside. When he pulls the paper apart, he finds scrawled across it:

IOU one trip around the world. Expiration date: NONE

He looks up at Dean, confused. "I don't understand…"

A smile plays along Dean's lips as he blushes. "I uh - well, we've talked about how you wish you could someday feel good enough to travel, and see all those places you've got pictures of, and so I thought, you know, I could be your traveling buddy, and help you be well enough to actually go places again… " Dean glances quickly down at Castiel before looking away again. "It's stupid, I know, it's just-"

"No, Dean," Castiel whispers quietly as he reaches out to grasp Dean's hand. "This isn't stupid. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given me."

Dean stares at Castiel, green eyes wide and hopeful. "So, do you like it, then? Do you think you'd want to do that someday?"

"Of course, Dean. If I can, there's nothing in this universe I'd want more than to travel the world with you."

Castiel stands up and wraps his arms around Dean, clinging on tightly. "Honestly, five months ago I would have never thought such a thing was possible for me," he murmurs, burying his face against Dean's shoulder. "But you changed me, Dean. You made me want to fight for the strength to get better. So, when I take that trip around the world someday, there's no one else I'd want by my side but you."

Dean holds Castiel close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and pulling tight. "I want that, too," he whispers against Castiel's ear.

"But I thought you didn't like to fly? Didn't you say you get airsick?" Castiel asks.

Dean laughs into the skin of Castiel's neck. "Yeah, well, I didn't promise I wouldn't puke in all of the vomit bags. I reserve the right to spew chunks often and in varying amounts on every flight."

Snorting, Castiel pulls away and sits back down in his seat, smiling as he watches Dean do the same. "I'll even bring extra bags, just in case."

Dean rolls his eyes as he picks up his fork and begins shoveling food in his mouth again. They both eat in silence for a while, Dean leaning over every few bites to give a scrap to Zeppy, and Castiel chiding him for teaching her bad manners. As Castiel munches on a piece of fruit, he notices Dean deep in thought as he drinks his mug of coffee.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" he asks.

Dean glances over at him, lifting a shoulder in a shrug as he responds. "I was just thinking, I might like to try for paramedic school after all, someday. Maybe work long enough at the club to save up some money to get me through my first year, at least."

Castiel smiles and nods his head in approval. "I think that's a great idea."

"And I just - well, between that and working at the garage, and Sam going off to school in a couple years… and all the writing you're always doing… I don't know how everything's going to work out," Dean goes on, a look of uncertainty on his face.

For once, Castiel can't seem to care that there's no plan set in stone for them, no step-by-step guidelines for them to follow. For the first time, the thought of not knowing what comes next excites him instead of instilling fear.

He smiles at Dean across the table, reaching over to take his hand in his as he says, "We'll make it up as we go."

***************************

Epilogue