Dean had had a lot of experience with blood. Demon, monster, human... All things told, you sorta got used to it. But there was something about Casand blood that had never sat well with Dean. Even before he'd fallen face first into whatever he now was with the angel, the red splash of it against Cas's skin had always made him cringe a little. He supposed it was because of what Cas was - or what he was supposed to be. Powerful. Unbreakable. Any evidence to the contrary just shook Dean up; skewed his world slightly sideways.

It was that feeling; that sense of wrong, that saw him in his current position - shirtsleeves rolled up, brow furrowed and hands as gentle as he could make them as he swiped a damp wash-cloth across Castiel's red-stained jaw.

It'd been two hours since Raphael, sour-faced as ever, had deposited Dean and a still-unconscious but thankfully no longer bleeding Cas back at the house in Cicero. Sam had volunteered to head back to their motel to grab their stuff and the Impala before returning which, while cementing him at the top of Dean's list of awesome brothers, also put the Sasquatch about nine hours drive out. This wouldn't have been such a bad thing except that it left Dean with a broken Cas and way too much time with his own thoughts. Thoughts that kept returning to all that Balthazar and Raphael had said...

Fucking hell, how could he have been so monumentally stupid?

He could still remember the image of Cas, newly returned from Heaven and rumpled as ever as he'd explained his foray into science-fiction.

"I had it made. From the base components of Jimmy's physical body."

It'd shocked Dean at the time sure - but he hadn't pushed - he hadn't friggin' thought to.

"It was against the rules."

"And now?"

"Now I am the rules."

Dean huffed out a breath as he thought back to Cas's words. Because fuck - he should have seen it. God knew Dean himself had done his own damn fair share of avoiding straight answers. There was obviously a reason taking an empty Vessel was against the rules; a reason angels shouldn't freaking do it; a reason CAS shouldn't have... Dean just hadn't opened his damn eyes long enough to ask.

Truthfully he hadn't opened his eyes for much of anything.

The past few weeks since Sam's return had been - at the risk of sounding like the epilogue of a romantic fucking comedy - utterly perfect. The world was apocalypse free; he and his brother had made it through not only without going to hell but also having gained the approval of God himself for their actions. And to add a crescendo of larks to the fucking cheery picture Dean had...fuck, he didn't really know what he had with Cas but he couldn't deny that it sat damn well with him.

For the first time in what felt like forever Dean had felt...warm. Content with his lot in a way he hadn't been since a fire and a demon had ripped his family apart.

And so yeah, he'd closed his eyes, clapped his hands over his ears and all but hummed the fucking national anthem in an effort to ignore anything or anyone that would bring an end to the peace. In retrospect, he might have thought to apply that philosophy to Sam and his damn knack for finding jobs.

Dean snorted slightly at the thought as he wrung the cloth out in the bowl of warm water on the side table.

In truth he couldn't really blame Sammy. As much as his brother was an idiot at times he was also a hunter - just like Dean - and if there was one thing the last few years had taught Dean there was no escaping that fact. As good as the last few weeks of rest had been, it'd always been an unspoken understanding that they'd return to the job. Dean only wished that that return had included a little more salt and burn and a little less game-changing, angelic revelation.

A little less Cas almost dying would have been a major plus as well.

The memory was not a pleasant one. Seeing Cas like that - bleeding in every damn way that mattered. It was a vision that didn't so much haunt Dean as sneak up at intervals and punch him in the fucking chest. The only other memory that had that effect these days was that of Sam in Stull Cemetery closing his eyes and falling…and, yeah - Dean would be lying if he said that the resemblance didn't scare the ever-loving shit out of him. It was one thing to know he cared for Cas but this...this was a level of devotion that had only ever been tied to family.

This was -

"Dean?"

Dean jerked so hard he hit the bedside table, causing water to slosh over the lip of the washbowl and across the wood finish. Not that he gave a rat's ass. Not when Cas was awake, gaze still a little sleep-addled as the angel frowned up at him.

"Cas!" And so yeah, any other time he may have been a little embarrassed at the tone of epic freaking relief but fuck it. "How're you feeling? Does anything hurt?" So help him, if Raphael had left so much as one burst blood vessel...

"I am fine," Cas said, his tone edging into slight surprise as he hoisted himself into a seated position. Dean just barely prevented himself from pushing the damn angel back down into the pillows - there was worried and then there was being a giant girl after all. Didn't really help that Cas's incredulousness at not being a red smear on the floor had served as a pointed reminder of just how damn close that possibility had come.

"What happened?" Cas asked, eyes ticking down to the blood stained cloth Dean had yet to let up his death grip on. Sue him - it was that or grab onto something else a bit more angel-shaped and possibly never let the fuck go.

Dean wrung the cloth a little for good measure. "Raphael patched you up," he explained, watching as Cas caught sight of his own blood splattered sleeve before finally seemed to notice the state he was in.

Dean was unsurprised that a second later, when Cas looked up again he was back to his slightly rumpled but decidedly less slasher-film looking self. Dean couldn't decide if he was relieved or pissed. On one hand - yay, no more blood, on the other…there was no way he was letting Cas get away with sweeping thisunder the freaking rug.

"Raphael?" Cas asked, uncertain. Not that Dean could blame him. "Why-"

"Sam," Dean cut in, mouth tipping up at the memory. "Sasquatch played him like a pro."

Cas nodded, eyes falling back to Dean's hands and fuck but Dean wished he wouldn't look. Wouldn't frown like that at the sight of his blood on Dean's hands - like he was just as disturbed by the picture as Dean himself was.

The question came without checking in with Dean's brain first. "What happened Cas?" Cas paused at his words and Dean swallowed hard. "You almost died." And fuck but if the reminder wasn't ten times worse when it was coming from himself. "Why didn't you just zap out of the damn vessel?" Why didn't you save yourself, went unspoken.

Dean watched as Cas's shoulders slumped, eyes ticking to the side in the closest thing the angel ever got to discomfort. "I couldn't."

Dean frowned. "Couldn't or wouldn't?"

Cas fixed him with his own stare then, eyes earnest and very blue. "Perhaps a bit of both."

Dean almost snorted. Cas was the only person he knew who could be more damn confusing in his honesty.

"Balthazar said you took an empty vessel," Dean prompted, not bothering to mention that the asshole had said it with the air of speaking about a man who'd gone swimming with a concrete life jacket.

Cas nodded stiffly. "You know I did."

Dean frowned. "Yeah but I don't think you ever explained just exactly what that means," he continued only to have Cas's eyes slide from his again. Fuck. "Cas?"

Cas didn't so much sigh as steel himself – almost as though his next words were going to fall on them from a freaking height. "Angels are not allowed to take empty vessels, partly because it's a waste -" Dean snorted at the thought of angels caring about anything so trivial as human lives but Cas continued, ignoring him, " - but mostly because, if an angel spends too much time within an empty vessel it claims them."

And count the ways that sounded far from fucking good. Dean scowled. "Claims?"

"The angel can no longer leave the vessel of his or her own volition," Cas explained. "Certain human attributes become more pervasive – smell, sound, touch..."

"Pain?" Dean guessed, hating it when Cas nodded. Dean wrung the cloth in his hands just that bit tighter. "So you can't go back to heaven?"

Cas shook his head. "Not within the lifetime of this vessel no."

"And what happens if some douche gets it into his head to do what Balthazar did today?" Dean asked. "What happens if the vessel's destroyed?"

He knew he'd hit on the dark awful centre of the problem the moment Cas twitched slightly to the side. It was the closest damn thing the angel ever got to fidgeting.

"The more time spent in the vessel the more entrenched the angel becomes," Cas explained, voice far too careful for Dean's sanity - like he was picking his words out of a bucket of razors. "Balthazar was attempting to break my connection with this flesh before it was too late."

Bingo. "Too late for what?" Dean asked, trying and failing to keep the note of urgency from his tone. Cas paused a moment and Dean's eyes narrowed. "Cas? Too late for what?"

Cas sighed, the action seeming to deflate him. "For me to break from this vessel with my grace intact."

Fuck, fuck, fuck...

"For you to not die when the vessel does," Dean said lowly, putting words to everything he'd been dreading since the start of the damn conversation.

Cas nodded, eyes lingering on Dean's hands as he practically tore the damn cloth to shreds. "That...is a possibility...yes."

It was a possibility. A motherfucking possibility. Dean didn't know whether to punch Cas or grab a hold of him and never let go. Panic set in with a familiar jolt and before he knew it Dean was on his feet, the damp, blood-stained cloth slapping wetly against the wall where he threw it.

That was going to stain.

It was a ridiculous thing to focus on but still better than anything else clamouring at the edge of his brain. Like how this was wrong - how Cas had put himself at risk; put himself in danger and for what? So that Dean could go and fuck everything up in the long-run? So Cas could die, caged in a meat-suit, regretting ever having had the faith in whatever the fuck they were doing here? And he would - Dean knew it as surely as he needed fucking air - Cas would regret this decision because Cas was an angel. Vast, holy and too damn good to be mucking it about in the dirt with the rest of humanity. As much as Dean had perversely enjoyed getting Cas's wings a little rumpled; his halo a little skewed he'd never, neverwanted this.

This was dragging Cas down into the mud - working the grit and grime into his feathers until he was caked with it. This was Dean watching Cas come to realise the epic fucking mistake he'd made and then watching him die because of it. Because Cas would die - probably bloody and probably violent - everything around Dean did in the end and he was nothing but fucking helpless to stop it.

Dean didn't realise just how far into his little freak-out he'd fallen until he felt the rough grip at his shoulder. Cas manhandled with all the finesse of a bulldozer and this time was no different. Before he'd even fully realised the tilt of the room Dean found himself sprawled flat on the bed, breath punched out of his lungs as Cas loomed over him. And Dean really didn't know what was doing a better job of pinning him to the bed - Cas's weight or the angel's epic fucking scowl.

"You are being irrational," Cas growled. "Calm down."

Dean twisted only to find his arms bound above his head in a sure grip, his range of motion little more than goddamn fractional. "What have I told you about getting into my head," he griped, more for something to focus on than with any real heat - his mind was still spinning too much for that.

Cas scowled impossibly harder. "I hardly had to - you were practically screaming."

Oh Peachy. Dean squeezed his eyes closed, turning his face away as his throat tightened horribly. "Cas - you can't-"

"No."

The fury in that one word had Dean opening his eyes despite himself and before he could recover he was trapped in Cas's glare. And damn but the angel was pissed.

"You do not get to take this decision from me," Cas rumbled, fingers digging into the flesh of Dean's wrists with the promise of bruises. "This is my choice and no one else's."

"Well it's the wrong friggin' one!" Dean growled, trying and failing to break the angel's grip. Not that he'd hoped for much. Bound to his meat-suit or not Cas certainly hadn't lost any of his mind-numbing strength. "You can't - you can't do this - not for me."

Dean studiously ignored the way his voice cracked on the last there. Instead he focused on Cas - Cas who had never looked so human as he snarled in frustration, sitting back on his heels to straddle Dean's hips. It took a second for Dean to realise his hands were still bound, Cas's mojo obviously filling in while his hands were busy raking through his insane shock of hair - making a bigger mess of it than it already was. It was testament to how much Dean trusted the angel that he wasn't going ballistic at the restraint by now. But then Cas seemed to be dosing up on the crazy enough for the two of them.

"You are the most aggravating…frustrating…infuriating…" Cas seemed to lose the capacity for words, something Dean almost wanted to take a freaking picture of for it's novelty despite the circumstances. "Agh!" Cas dropped his hands, bringing that damn glare back to bear. "What would you have me do Dean? Return to Heaven? Maintain order by Raphael's side?"

Dean swallowed around the harsh lump in his throat, eyes ticking away from Cas's as he twitched a pathetic excuse for a shrug against the grip still holding him. "If you want-"

"What I WANT-" Cas interrupted, fingers finding purchase on Dean's chin to force his face forward. Totally not a fair move. Particularly not as Cas's eyes burned into him - sincerity and determination practically fucking shiningfrom the things like they were in a goddamn soap-opera or some shit, "-is to be here, like this, with you."

"You can't-" It occurred to Dean that his side of this argument was beginning to sound like a broken record at about the same time Castiel's patience boiled over. The angel snarled - full on fucking snarled- and Dean just about fused with the freaking mattress in an effort to get away as he suddenly found himself nose to nose with epic holy wrath.

"I. CAN." Cas growled, low and deliberate, a clap of thunder and bursting lightbulb adding the biggest freaking full stop to the statement that could be had. Dean might have laughed at the melodrama if he weren't so busy trying to swallow around what seemed like a tree-stump lodged in his throat. "Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do Dean," the angel continued, eyes practically electric in the sudden shadows of the room. "My days of fealty to others are well behind me and they will staythat way."

Dean's heart hammered in his chest - skin prickling under the static practically sparking in the air and yet…he wasn't afraid. He probably should have been. God knew Cas was very capable of ripping him to pieces; burning him up from the inside out.

Dean swallowed. "Fucking hell Cas..." he said weakly. And yeah, so there was a little awe in there - shoot him.

Above him, Cas sighed - his eyes softening along with the shadows of the room. "I won't regret this Dean," the angel assured, proving once more that he really did know Dean far too well for ANY of their combined sanity. "I'm giving up heaven - I'm not giving up who I am."

Dean scowled. "Heaven is your home."

"And Kansas is yours," Cas returned. "You're saying it would destroy you not to return?" he asked. And fuck him, even Dean - king of the blind - couldn't deny the angel's damn logic.

Still... "That's not the same thing and you know it," Dean griped. "You have family."

Cas shifted above him, raising on eyebrow in a look that would have made Crowleyproud for fuck's sake. "Who - as evidence shows - have absolutely no qualms about striking off on their own either," Cas explained and Dean scowled harder - because god-fucking-dammit this was NOT the way this conversation was supposed to go. Stupid thing was Dean wasn't entirely sure if he was all that cut up about the fact.

Cas sighed, fingers inching up to play absently with the hem of Dean's t-shirt - it was such a human thing to do Dean found it lent a bit of extra weight to Cas's next words. "Dean I enjoy Earth; I enjoy humanity. It's chaotic and messy yes but there's a beauty to it as well - a tarnished perfection that has never been seen in Heaven. And..." Cas looked up, catching him in one of their epic stare-o-thons that Dean couldn't really deny anymore made his heart start punching him a little harder in the ribs. "I enjoy you."

Dean swallowed. Hard. Because fuck but if Cas didn't say 'enjoy' like he might have said another, slightly shorter and far more typically meaningful word. Dean totally did not squirm goddammit. "For my tarnished perfection right?" he joked - and if it was a little unsteady then fuck it - Cas's fondly exasperated sigh was totally worth it anyway.

With the tension went the last of the ominous shadows, leeching from the room as the sky outside cleared unnaturally fast leaving the full moon shining once more. Dean watched as Cas's eyes ticked to the exploded lamp on the bedside table and Dean might have laughed at the look on the angel's face under less heavy circumstances. It was like a particularly rumpled puppy expecting a freaking rolled up newspaper.

"We'll have to stock up on light bulbs if you're sticking around," Dean said, and though he was teasing it was something else too. It was an acceptance. Because it was Cas's choice - and he'd chosen...

And Dean suddenly had to remind himself to breathe because fuck him deadthey were really doing this. Cas was staying and he was staying and they were staying together and Jesus fucking hell please god don't let him screw this up...

"Why?" Cas asked, lip quirking - interrupting Dean's inner freakout like the fucking pro he was. "Are you planning to infuriate me often?"

Dean felt the shit-eating grin slide into place with a painfully welcome familiarity. "You know it."

Cas's eye roll was like a freaking gold medal - Dean almost wanted to run a victory lap. And - while he was still pretty far from okay with the situation, fear of the future still tapping staccato at the edge of his mind - for now at least he could accept this…this whatever it was they were doing.

And hey, maybe one day he'd even get up the fucking guts to call it what it was.

The silence between them stretched slightly - strangely comfortable considering Dean still had his hands bound as Cas's fingers played across the hem of his t-shirt.

"Was that a fight?" Cas suddenly asked and Dean snorted.

"Yeah, I'd say that was a fight Cas," he said ruefully, stretching his shoulders slightly to ease the pull. He was just thinking he ought to ask Cas to let him go when the angel's next words had the notion tumbling out of his brain like so many dominos.

"Does that mean we can now have make-up sex?" Cas asked and even though the damn angel said the words 'make-up sex' like it was something he'd read in a text book Dean could hardly care - not when Cas was suggesting anything to do with sex in general.

To say Dean had gotten over any and all qualms regarding sex with a dude would be putting it mildly. The last few weeks had seen he and Cas in just about every position known to man - possibly some new ones too - and while Dean had always been a fan of humanity's baser desires it was nothing to the near-obsession he had with watching Cas shake apart under him; over him; fucking any which way...

It was that obsession that right then saw Dean's brain shift gears so fast his head almost spun. "Fuck yes."

Cas made this pleased little sound in the back of his throat as he found the hem of Dean's shirt again, fingers stealing beneath the fabric to drag blunt nails teasingly across the strip of skin just above his belt. Dean sucked in a breath at the sensation, flexing slightly against the invisible bonds that still held him tight. And huh - maybe there was one position they hadn't tried yet…

"You gunna let me go?" he asked, not entirely sure what he wanted the answer to be. At least not until Cas's eyes flicked up to his bound hands before returning to his face, a slight smirk pulling at his lips as he realised the same thing that Dean had a moment before.

"No," Cas said and Dean's heart ratcheted up a notch as Cas smoothed his hands across Dean's stomach - hiking the t-shirt up as he went. "I believe you need reminding of the positives of human sensation."

Dean opened his mouth to reply but all that came out was a strangled groan as Cas replaced his hands with his mouth - sucking a bruising kiss over Dean's hip as his hands made quick work of Dean's belt-buckle. The angel had come a long way in his mastery of buckles, catches and clasps in the last few weeks - practice made perfect after all - but there was still something about buttons that seemed to trip him up. On cue Cas's fingers stumbled slightly over the catch of the jeans and Dean bit down on a grin, vehemently NOT finding the action endearing at ALL. Goddammit.

Trouble or not though, Cas was nothing if not freaking determined. The button lost the battle in the end and Cas must've taken the slight hitch as a personal insult or something because Dean didn't think he'd ever been stripped of his pants so fast before in his life. He barely had time to register the heavy sound of jeans hitting carpet before Cas was on him again, hands hot and familiar on Dean's hips, pressing him down as he - sweet merciful fuck- licked a long, hot line up Dean's cock. And zero to a hundred was a goddamn understatement, seriously.

"Cas…" Dean gasped, raising his head in time to catch a flash of vivid blue before the angel wrapped his lips around the head of Dean's rapidly hardening dick and sunk down in one long, smooth slide. Dean's head slammed back into the pillow - hard - arms pulling taut as he bit down on a moan.

It wasn't the first time Cas had done this - as fucking evidenced- but the sensation: the hot, slick heat of his mouth and the feeling of being pressed down; owned was something Dean could never quite brace himself for, no matter how much forewarning he had. Which, right now, was practically none.

Dean bucked up fruitlessly, Cas's hands like steel on his hips - keeping him pinned to the mattress with an ease that did absolutely ridiculous things to Dean's libido.

It was something he'd never seen coming - this love of being manhandled - pressed down and just fucking taken. He'd had girls who had liked to take charge in the past of course and Dean had happily played along to some pretty kinky tunes in the name of adventure but it'd never been this. This was power and a capacity for dominance beyond anything Dean had willingly sought; this was knowing Cas could easily break him. More importantly, this was Dean trusting him not to.

The knowledge was slightly terrifying but somehow insanely fucking hot at the same time. God knew how Dean managed THAT.

Cas chose that moment to underline Dean's thoughts with a twist and flick of tongue that was just downright fucking criminal and Dean shuddered at the sensation - breath hitching in his chest as his bound hands clawed fruitlessly at the headboard.

Then Cas made this noise - this brain melting little half moan in the back of his throat and Dean swore loudly as his eyes slammed shut, neck arching as his pulse ratcheted impossibly higher. Because the only thing better than Cas going down on him, Dean had found, was Cas getting offon going down on him. Which he did, they'd discovered. Spectacularly. Cas gave head like all he needed from life was to deep-throat Dean Winchester and he would die a happy angel and it never failed to turn Dean inside out.

Like now. Cas's next moan went bone deep and Dean practically bucked under him because holy fucking hell he could not even handle this shit… "Cas - please…"

And yeah - so the begging thing had stuck around. His eviction notice from the male gender was due any day now.

Cas pulled off him as smoothly as he'd gone down - trust an angel to even be graceful giving head for fuck's sake - and Dean bit off a noise of protest before he registered Cas climbing up his body. Scratch that - nakedCas climbing up his body.

Dean groaned as Cas licked into his mouth. That was so fucking cheating. In the greatest way possible of course. "Thought you were supposed to use your powers for good," Dean teased breathlessly when Cas pulled back for air.

Cas twitched this stupidly fucking hot smirk down at him, an expression Dean was just never going to get sick of - ever. "Is this not good?" he asked, punctuating the sentence with a very deliberate roll of his hips that had Dean's breath catching all over again.

"Fucking hell, I've created a monster," Dean groaned, not even pretending he wasn't grinning like a fucking loon. Because Jesus FUCK, he was so fucking gone on whatever this was between he and Cas. And for all it terrified him - for all he was spiralling out of control - it was also completely fucking exhilarating.

Dean was rewarded with another bone-deep kiss before Cas suddenly sat up, legs straddling either side of Dean's thighs. Which - while the view was fucking awesome - was still just south of where Dean reallywanted him. Dean angled his hips in an effort to squirm closer and earned himself a quelling look before Cas twisted his hand slightly and was suddenly holding a nondescript bottle of lube.

Did Dean mention that sex with an angel was fucking awesome? 'Cause it really, reallywas.

Dean watched as Cas upended the bottle over his own fingers, heart tapping double-time as anticipation clenched in his gut. A year ago - if anyone had told Dean he'd be laying prone under an angel of the lord - dick fit to break down a fucking concrete wall at the thought of having said angel's lube-slick fingers in him he would have reached for a goddamn exorcism spell. But that was then. Now…

Now Dean watched Cas slick up his fingers, skin fairly fucking humming with the anticipation of it. Which was probably why it threw him for a moment when instead of shifting - reaching down and forward - Cas leaned back, arching and reaching behind himself to... holy motherfucking hell.

Dean promptly forgot how to breathe as he watched Cas's eyes drop to half mast, the angel's chest catching as his lips parted around a ragged inhale.

"Oh..." Cas breathed, neck bowing as his hips twisted and Dean was going to fucking die because Cas was bearing back onto his own damn fingers like he couldn't get enough and Dean had never seen anything so fucking hot in his goddamn life. He just about ripped his arms out of their sockets in an effort to get free. The need to touch had become a heavy burn on his skin, the temperature only ratcheting higher with every sound Cas made.

Then the angel did something better.

"Dean…" Cas practically fucking keenedand Dean just about finished right then and there. It was the honesty - the stripped bare truth of the tone. Anyone else, Dean would have thought they were putting on the show deliberately but not Cas. The angel may have picked up a few human quirks along the way but he was still painfully honest - in everything. Including, apparently, the way he could fuck himself open on his own fingers while panting Dean's name. Dean was fairly sure his brains were leaking out of his ears here because sweet. Ever-loving. FUCK.

"Cas - fuck you're…" Amazing, incredible, going to be the fucking death of me - Dean could have said any number of things but he never got the opportunity because Cas was suddenly shifting, eyes intense and drowned practically black as lube-slick fingers found Dean's cock. The moan that broke from Dean was almost fucking embarrassing but he couldn't find it in himself to care - not with Cas's hand working him so well, fingers sure and slick and the same god damn ones that had been inside Cas not moments before.

Dean's nerves twisted into something razor-edged and set on fire as Cas lifted up, knees bunching the comforter as he positioned himself. And then there was nothing but tightness and heat and - motherfuckinghell - Cas letting out a ragged moan as he just fucking took itin one smooth, delicious slide.

Dean groaned, the sound rumbling up through his chest as he struggled to stay still - let Cas adjust enough to -

"Do you know what you do to me?" Cas suddenly spoke, tone ragged and coarse as he hitched his hips and began to rock - not pulling off exactly but moving- setting a rhythm of push/pull that was definitely going to drive Dean completely fucking insane before the end. That is if Cas's voice didn't do the damn job first.

"You are the most stubborn; contrary; infuriating…"

Seriously, how in the hell Dean had never connected Cas's voice with sex the moment the angel had opened his damn mouth in that barn so many years ago Dean would never know. "You said infuriating before," Dean groaned, unsurprised when his interruption earned him a sudden and delicious twist of hips that just about saw stars bursting behind his eyelids. He wasn't the only one affected though, not if the catch in Cas's breathing was to be believed.

Dean took the opportunity to plant his heels, thanking god that hunting kept him in good shape as he thrust up, punching a shocked gasp out of Cas. The angel's hips staggered slightly before picking up their rhythm again - harder than before - enough that the next snap of Dean's hips had Cas throwing his head back, throat bared as he moaned brokenly and Dean was going to fucking die here, seriously.

"Fuck, c'mon Cas…" Dean encouraged, voice low and wrecked and Cas moaned again upon hearing it - movements turning hard and instinctual and Dean swore, suddenly wishing there was more light in the room because from what he could see Cas looked fucking spectacularlosing it this way…

"Dean - " Cas panted, voice cracking with an urgency that meant he was close - riding the edge of his release and Dean yanked again at the bindings holding him - a wave of combined heat and frustration washing through him when they held tight. Fuck. Fuck.

"Cas - Cas please," Dean begged, not really even knowing what the hell he was asking for and - a moment later - not fucking caring. Not when Cas was suddenly seizing up above him, coming with a broken gasp - hard and fucking incredible and Dean swore as he felt his own release spark. It was about then - fucking then - that he realised his hands were free and Dean didn't think before he was moving - rolling Cas beneath him and - fucking finally- getting his hands on skin, gripping Cas's hips hard enough to bruise as he thrust once, twice before coming with a broken grunt - face buried in Cas's neck and Cas's hands hot and goddamn perfect gripping his shoulders…

Dean came back to himself to the feel of Cas's fingers carding through his hair - his whole goddamn body warm, boneless and draped all the fuck over Cas's slighter frame in a way that would have been damn uncomfortable for anyone who wasn't an angel. As it was, Cas seemed perfectly content exactly where he was - humming slightly as Dean shifted into a more comfortable position - still mostly on top of him - before resuming his petting. Not that Dean ever called it that. Ever. Just like he certainly didn't arch into Cas's touch like a giant fucking cat. Goddamn it.

Somewhere in the fray Cas had mojo'd away Dean's t-shirt and Dean couldn't help shifting, sliding skin on skin and just enjoying the feel of it as Cas smoothed his palm across Dean's shoulders. He'd kill himself before admitting it out loud of course but Dean couldn't deny that he enjoyed these moments. He'd always been a tactile person - touch being a craving he'd never managed to get a fucking control over. Most of his sexual encounters before hadn't lent themselves well to satisfying it - being more about the roll and grapple than the touch. Cas though… fuck, it was all Dean could do not to just forsake the goddamn world and stay in bed all day with the way Cas touched him.

Dean shifted, suddenly reminded of something Cas had said before. "Is it massively different? Being in an empty vessel?"

Cas's hand stilled for a moment on Dean's shoulder blade before resuming it's course. "Certain senses are more prevalent," he explained. "It's similar to the state I was in when my grace was diminished."

Dean grunted, smoothing a hand across Cas's ribs. "That's not very reassuring Cas."

Cas hummed and moved into the caress - suggesting that perhaps Dean wasn't the only tactile one of the two of them. "My grace remains intact Dean - my powers will not diminish."

Dean snorted. "Good thing I guess - what with you going after Baltha-douche." And fuck but if the discomfort about THAT hadn't just reared up and bitten him on the ass.

Dean felt Cas's sigh and beat him to the words they both knew were coming. "I know this is something you gotta do on your own," Dean said and if he was unable to keep the griping tone from his voice, fuck it. This was Cas chasing after the motherfucker that'd almost killed him today - Dean was allowed to be a little put out goddammit. "Just…" Dean swallowed, thankful he'd kept his head down - ear over Cas's heart as his hands clenched involuntarily over the angel's hip. "Just be fucking careful okay?"

Cas found the sweet spot at the back of Dean's neck - expert fingers digging in in an effort to ease the tension Dean couldn't have hidden if he goddamn wanted to. "I will be careful," Cas assured.

Dean shifted himself up onto his elbow so he could finally look down at Cas - Cas who blinked up at him like he was the goddamn answer to all of life's questions - just like he always fucking did. One of these days Dean might get used to it. "And you'll call if you need help," Dean ordered. "And you're going to get your feathered ass back here every now and then so we can have filthy, mind-blowing sex -"

Cas cut him off by rolling on top of Dean - far too fucking easily for Dean's masculinity mind you - before kissing him: deep, heated and utterly fucking spectacular. "I will come back as often as I'm able," Cas assured long moments later, breath warm against Dean's lips.

"You'll come back," Dean repeated, threading his hands into Cas's hair - unsure who exactly he was trying to reassure here.

Cas just about purred against him, stretching in a way that promised a long, awesome night ahead. "Because of your tarnished perfection," he dead-panned, the effect unspoiled by the gleam in his eye.

Dean's bark of laughter was sudden and sharp - and exactly what he fucking needed.

END

AN: Next in the series - Epic (check it on my author profile)