*Author's Note: Surprise. I was not planning to add anymore to this story, my last chapter being the 'official' finish… however, I've received many messages and feedback concerning a want for more, specifically some *winkwinknudgenudge* material. Some also seemed unsure if that was actually the end or not. So, to remedy both of these things and because I did rather like this story, I wrote another chapter, but moreso what I consider an epilogue than anything else. Be warned. This IS the end, and because you've all been so wonderful as readers and critics, I hope you enjoy this. It's a bit different in content and rating, but all the same… do let me know of your final feelings. (And if you hate it and loved the original, pretend this isn't here, heh.) :]

"Here."

Sam held out his hand, to which Dean automatically held out his own. A room key landed in his open palm, which would've been all guns and roses, but he noticed another key between Sam's fingers as he picked his bag off of the Impala.

"What's this?" Dean asks suspiciously, looking down at his single room key.

"What do you think it is?" Sam quipped in response, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to risk anything happening again."

"Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't make me say it. You know what I'm talking about, Dean." Sam shot a meaningful glance over at Cas, who was standing by a streetlamp, absentmindedly holding onto a leashed Jessica.

"Dude, nothin's gonna happen with us," Dean countered, feeling his face burst into flames in the dark. He hoped to hell Sammy didn't notice, but he'd chosen to quickly study the ground anyway.

"Sure, whatever you say," Sam replied without confidence, "But we'll sleep in different rooms for tonight, just in case."

"After what happened, you want to sleep in separate rooms?"

"Yeah?" Sam lifted his eyebrows, Dean able to hear the 'so what?'

"Well—" Dean didn't know what to say anymore. Sure, there was a large part of him that felt better having Sammy close enough in the case trouble ran across them – the same part of him that had to share a room simply to know Sammy was safe. But then they were goddamn adults, weren't they? It's not like they hadn't slept alone before, but Jesus, couldn't his brother be a little – what, less supportive? You know that's not what you damn well want. But hell… Cas—with Cas—his head still couldn't grasp their version of recent events properly.

When Sam saw Dean struggling to come up with anything, he shrugged his bag further up onto his shoulder. "Exactly, I'll see you in the morning, alright?"

"Sam—c'mon. I'm not spending the night with some girl I picked up at a bar," he started with a scared sort of chuckle, grasping at straws to avoid the possible ideas he'd pick up the moment he stepped into an empty motel room with Cas. Or as soon as Sam was out of sight.

His brother was already halfway to his own room, but he'd heard Dean and turned his head to toss Dean an exasperated look. "You're right, it's Cas!" he called back.

More heat graced his skin, making him feel like he was suddenly wearing too many layers even in the chill hours of the night. He wrapped the key in his fist and grumbled to himself as he grabbed his own bag.

Wait.

"Hey, no, you're taking it!" Dean called at Sam just as he saw him putting his key in the door. As he walked toward his own room, he pointed toward the dog Cas still had by the leash. "You wanted it, it's your responsibility!"

"Fine!" Sam called back. There were at least six doors between them, but the two of them were too tired to care about yelling across the row of them. "And it's not an 'it,' she's a person, Dean."

Cas was apparently more aware than Dean assumed, because a blink later he was on Sam's end, handing over the dog. "Goodnight, Sam," Dean heard Cas' rough voice before he appeared right beside Dean again, always unnaturally close.

"Too lazy to walk that?" Dean asked as he focused with all of his might on unlocking his brotherless room.

Cas didn't answer, just watched him with the air of having just attended one of Dean's comments that there was no need to respond to.

"You coming in with me or something?" Dean questioned as he made his way in, flicking on the light to reveal the usual. Bed, television, small table and chair, and a sink counter over in the corner. Dean couldn't help but see there was only one queen, but then Cas didn't sleep, did he? So what the hell did it matter?

"I thought I would watch over you," Cas replied, on repeat when it came to that.

"Seriously—" Dean started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I'm going to whether or not you say so."

"Sam probably needs more watching over now that I'm not there."

"Sam will be fine. I will be able to sense things from a ways."

"Then why not go a ways while I get some shut-eye?" Dean dropped his bag on the table and stupidly wondered if he could bear changing into boxers to sleep in, or if he'd have to go all-out with the clothes on his back with the other in the room.

Tentatively he stepped back and grabbed a pair of boxers from the bag. He might as well. Just not in front of the guy. Which he knew was fucking ridiculous – Cas had probably seen it tons of times, especially being constantly around him and Sam, but now it felt different. He felt exposed. Not in a threatening kind of way, but like he couldn't trust himself. He could inexplicably lose his cool in seconds while in Cas' presence, and Cas didn't even have to try.

Whatever. He'd just tell himself he needed to change in privacy, and so he was no later closing himself in the bathroom to strip down.

He had managed to cool his nerves by the time he left by telling himself he was overreacting, that this was no different than Cas staying in their room any other night, but as he stepped back into the room and toward the bed, he saw Cas sitting on its end missing half of his own getup. Dean's mind instantly flashed to the time Cas had half-stripped and climbed into bed with him, which caused him to swallow nervously, the flurry of unease shrieking its way round his insides.

"What are you doin', Cas?" Dean tried to ask casually as he stepped his way over, suddenly all too aware of how naked he was with nothing but his boxer shorts on, lightly freckled and very bare chest revealed to the world. To Cas.

"I thought I'd sleep beside you again?"

Cas watched Dean as he made his way around the bed. He seemed to attentively take in his appearance before glancing down at himself. Thoughtfully he observed himself, and then he began unbuttoning his remaining dress shirt.

"Hey—wait. I didn't even give you an answer!" Dean didn't mean to let slip so much panic in his tone when he saw Cas starting to remove more of his clothing. Was he mimicking Dean's chosen level of clothing? Good thinking, Dean.

"I can sense you're frightened, so I'll help you," Cas said.

"Wha—I'm not afraid of anything."

Cas unbuttoned with a trouble-free swiftness before he shrugged the shirt off. Then he stood, beginning to unzip his pants without a word.

Alright. Can't do this. Dean fought back another heavy swallow and turned off the light, trying not to look as he slipped into what he'd take as his side of the bed.

After some shuffling and a shift in the bed, he felt Cas slip in beside him, arm curling around his middle with no hesitation whatsoever. Dean could feel Cas' warm chest press into his back and he squeezed his eyes shut, not knowing why he couldn't seem to handle their second round of cuddling. The proximity of the angel seemed to make his every nerve ending go rigid.

"You're very still," Cas spoke, warm voice brushing against the back of his neck, giving him goose bumps. "You can relax, Dean."

"Y-yeah," Dean murmured hoarsely. He was reminded of earlier, when he'd said—he'd admitted—

Dean's eyes opened to the darkness of the motel room, his heart picking up in beat to hammer in chest. Oh god, this was all so damn intimate. He could barely handle it, but as much as his head felt on the verge of imploding, he couldn't help but notice it was in a… pleasant way, like he hadn't felt something so terrifyingly good in all of his life. Then so what if he died from it?

Hell, better than what he'd almost died of before.

Dean felt Cas burying his face into the crook of his neck, swore he could feel the other's lips curve into a smile.

Dean dared to maneuver himself beneath Cas' arm, rolling so that he was on his back and Cas' arm was now draped over his stomach.

"You doin' this on purpose?"

Cas didn't respond just as he hadn't when he followed Dean into the motel room. He chose to merely stare at Dean, his head no longer hiding in the crook of his neck.

Dean was watching for some kind of answer, but when he didn't get one and instead got the vibe that Cas really was doing this to torment him in his own secretive little way, he sighed. There was no way to stop it from happening, was there?

He stretched his arm up and around, his hand falling on Cas' neck to bury fingers in his dark hair. "C'mere, then," he ushered quietly, using the touch to pull Cas toward him. Their lips met, Cas' body seeming to melt into Dean's touch, everything unnervingly silent until Dean felt Cas release a soft breath, hot against his lips. Dean could feel Cas' leg hooking itself around both his own, could feel him using this to nestle more snugly into Dean's front. Dean leaned in to deepen the kiss, tongue already grazing Cas' lips, easing the other into opening for a taste of him.

It was a tiny shift in body that threw him into sudden, stark awareness of the hardness pressing into his thigh. Cas was rocking himself into the hunter with seemingly no notice or thought to what he was doing. But whatever the case was, it was driving Dean nuts. He could feel enlivened warmth rushing down to his own stiffening erection... eliciting familiar uneasiness inside of him. But hell, now wasn't the time to be embarrassed. They'd done this before… get a fucking grip, Dean!

With a bit of shimmying amongst a fervent, breathy kiss, he gripped Cas' sides and directed them both, Dean leaning back into the motel bed, the angel now on top, straddling Dean's hips between both legs. He could feel Cas' warm chest pressing into his, his hands resting flat on Dean's shoulders while he clung to their kiss.

Dean let his free hand hook around the back of one of Cas' thighs, trying to lead him into scooting, shamelessly striving for the friction he was craving. Cas was easily led by Dean's touch, his hips wriggling downward so that they aligned with Dean, his erection pressing excitedly against Dean's own. Dean groaned softly into their kiss, both his hands moving to grip the sides of Cas' waist.

He was actually surprised by the litheness of the other, Cas able to curl himself so rolling their cocks together and maintaining the kiss seemed to be of no issue. Only thing was that he was getting loud, Cas' moaning at least two steps above Dean's own and very singular one. Cas let out noises of content nearly every time his hips ground forward, and Dean worried that the angel might be close to coming already. Not that he could say much was different for himself.

"Cas…" he breathed, breaking from the kiss to find eyes of a very dark blue staring back at him. God, the thoughts running through his head – they were racing far ahead of their current position and Dean could've whimpered in anticipation if it weren't for his lingering self-control.

Cas merely tilted his head, breathing labored, seeming unsure as to why Dean stopped. But Dean was pushing Cas back now, palms planted on the other's chest. He pushed until Cas' back was pressed into the bed, his head lying close to its end. He stared up at Dean with wide, questioning eyes.

Dean couldn't stop the nervy swarm from taking over, causing a lightheadedness as he eyed the too-naïve angel. He was about to do something he had no fucking clue how to do – but he would, for Cas, and hoped to hell he didn't make a fool of himself.

"Gonna…" he started, but for gods sake, he was too damn shy to get it out in the open, what with Cas staring up at him so expectantly, the man's tongue coming out to unconsciously wet his bottom lip. Dean could barely contain himself. "You'll see," Dean finished, a rough undertone in his voice.

His fingers hooked into the edges of Cas' boxers – a loosely-fitting, plain white pair – and tugged downward, pulling them over Cas' hardness and the entire rest of the way down, so nothing would be in the way. He tossed them off the side of the bed and tried not to freak out when he turned his eyes back to Cas, now entirely nude before him. Cas had shakily inhaled when his boxers dragged over his sensitive erection, but now he was yet again watching Dean with avid attention.

Dean could safely say he felt this moment was the pillar of all anxiety. To even consider – well, fuck, this wasn't just a guy and he knew that. This was Cas, who just so happened to grab a human bearing dude bits, and who gave a crap if he suddenly was fine with the idea of going down on another dude? It had to be a little like servicing himself, didn't it? He just had to… had to think of what he did to himself, and what - well, what the women he'd been with had done to him. Sure, a little friggin' weird, but he had to pull leads from somewhere, since he knew for sure he wanted to do this for Cas. And sure, maybe a little for himself, if only to see the look on his face… and not to leave out the godawesome sounds Cas would make.

Dean visibly swallowed before he used his hands to part Cas' legs just enough so he could slide between them and tentatively lean down. Fuck fuck fuck, he was going to do this, wasn't he? And why did Cas have to stare at him so intently?

For whatever reason he was unnecessarily gentle to start, his fingers barely brushing against Cas' cock as he wrapped untested fingers around the base of him. Cas had been following Dean's hand with his eyes before the contact was made, and when it was, "Dean…" Cas gasped low and small in his throat.

Holy shit—already worth it.

Dean dragged the tips of his fingers up, from the base and over the tip, which seemed to arouse something of a shiver from Cas, his cock hardening further beneath Dean's fingers.

"Dean… I…" Cas exhaled, his eyes staring into Dean's with a blown-away look Dean now knew he'd never tire of. Summoning the rest of his confidence, Dean suddenly closed the remaining space, tongue touching Cas before his mouth followed suit.

This interrupted any utterances Cas might've had planned, his exhale morphing into a moan thick with surprise and pleasure. Dean watched as Cas' fingers curled into the blanket beneath them, his head tilting back a tic.

Dean had no idea what to expect, but even so he found he didn't mind. The taste, the smell, the texture and size- all of it - all of it belonged to Cas, which made it strangely alluring in the 'well look who doesn't mind sucking dick' sort of way. The only thing better was the noise Cas made upon feeling Dean's mouth around him.

Dean went with what came to him, his tongue swirling around Cas as he took more of him in. His hand went where his mouth didn't, sliding down in an improvised rhythm. Eventually he ventured sucking, saliva slickening Cas' cock so that the quickening of his dipping head came with more ease. He could taste something salty and realized he was tasting the other's pre-cum. Tasting. Hell, it turned him on more than he felt it should – but fuck if that was nothing compared to the throaty moans escaping Cas.

Jesus fuck, Cas… if you don't stop…

Dean could feel himself twitching behind his boxers, eager for some release himself. And yet he didn't really want it, not when he was busy making Cas squirm and arch eager hips to further slide into Dean's mouth. Dean couldn't help but idly wonder how much control it took Cas to not—well, destroy him.

But he didn't want him to finish. Call it messed up to deny the guy a finish, but no, not yet. He wanted… well, if Cas wanted…

With a faint twinge of guilt, he lifted his mouth away from Cas, causing the angel to open his eyes and peer at him with the confusion of an abandoned fervor.

"Do you want to…" Dean began, but had no goddamn clue how to even blurt it out. It felt absurd, imagining the words alone leaving him. How the hell did people who were doing this for the first time do this? "Have…uh…" Dean had lifted himself so he was sitting on his knees between Cas' legs. One of his hands came up to nervously rub the back of his neck.

Oh come on, you basically sucked Cas off just now—this should be child's play…

"You wish to have sexual intercourse?" he suddenly heard, Dean's faintly pink-stained face lifting to see Cas had lifted himself to rest on elbows.

"That was… a weird way to break the ice," Dean responded, to some extent stunned by the first intelligible words to leave Cas for a while. So he knew where this could lead, huh? He should've known it – the guy had been around observing this world for who-knew-how-long. He had to understand the acts beyond blowjobs.

"What do you prefer?" Cas questioned, head tilting.

Dean would've laughed at how bizarre it was Cas had returned to his predictable self in the span of seconds, but the angel still had flushed cheeks and was licking his lips a lot more anxiously now.

"I dunno. Getting laid sounds a lot less like we're taking part in some twisted science experiment," Dean mumbled awkwardly, "But with you it feels different." Dean felt this nearing chick flick territory, but fuck it. He felt the need to define what they were doing exactly for what it was. "This is… lovemaking, but we don't have to say it is, y'know. We'll just know it is."

Dean thought he saw a smile turn up one side of Cas' lips for a miniscule moment, but it didn't last long enough to tell. "I like that you consider this an act of—" Cas began.

"Hey, don't be getting mushy on me or anything. I said we'll know it, but I'm not gonna-" Dean went quiet, stupidly tried to stop his mouth before it goaded on his nerves even more. Cas luckily seemed unaffected by his interruption; the guy appeared more amused than offended, like he had his own secret opinions lurking around in his that mind of his.

"What I'm trying to say is…" Dean tried again, sentence quickly fading yet again.

Cas lifted himself up, now sitting on the bed so he could rest hands on either side of Dean's face and gently pull him in for a kiss. It was meant to be calming, but it only intensified the train of Dean's thoughts.

"Would you mind if I fuck you?" he finally blurt out, once they'd pulled a breadth away from the kiss.

"I trust you, Dean Winchester," Cas replied, his stare catching Dean's on their way up from where they'd been focusing on the blankets in mortification. Thumbs brushed over Dean's light stubble before his hands dropped to his sides, waiting.

And it took Dean a second to process. That was a yes. Cas had agreed to it without a moment's hesitation, not even a flinch in the name of Dean's poor approach to asking. Even better, Dean realized he still had no fucking idea what he was doing. He'd never… fucked a man before, so couldn't make out if there were specific steps they had to take, but he guessed… well, they'd have to wing it.

And if Cas wasn't making it a ton easier to imagine, he didn't know what else could. The angel was sitting there, butt-naked, cock still rigid from before's attention, and his eyes – god his eyes – they watched Dean with such intensity. Clouded, but potent with an unreadable energy. He licked his slightly chapped lips again, and a moment later Dean had Cas' face in one hand, his lips attacking the angel's.

He led Cas backward again, pinning him against the bed while he positioned himself onto bent knees between Cas' parted legs. Sure, he wasn't going in for a fuck yet - Cas was too much a distraction for him to keep completely on task. The mere taste when kissing him… for example, which was exactly what he dove in for.

"Oh," he mumbled into their lips. "We'll probably need some."

He agilely pulled away from Cas and rolled himself off of the bed and onto his feet. He was used to the dark in the room by now, so didn't bother with the light as he went toward his bag and dug around. Yeah yeah, he was about to reveal what a typical guy he was, but hey, there were on the road and you never knew. There were several occasions the lube had come in handy in very dire hormonal situations.

Cas had rolled onto his side to watch Dean's search. When Dean finally produced a bottle of some kind from the depths of his bag, Cas was wearing his recurring look of lost curiosity.

"Lube," Dean mumbled with some diffidence, shrugging a little. He would've loved the confidence and lack of strangeness this new… state of affairs brought, but hell, he supposed if him and Cas had made it this far – he'd get used to it in time.

He roamed back over to the bed, setting the bottle on the end table before he decided now was the time to shed his own boxers. He stepped out of them before climbing back onto the bed. His heart was hammering in his chest at full force now, barely able to choke out another, "C'mere."

Cas crawled himself over the bed, something that might've been hilarious any other time, but nothing but rousing every anxious nerve in his body now. Dean had sat himself with his back against the headboard and Cas didn't seem reluctant to close the space between them – who was he kidding? Cas was an expert in it.

He cozied himself in Dean's lap, his legs resting on either side of Dean's as his arms wrapped around the man's freckled shoulders. Dean had already taken to kissing him again, unable to tire from the feeling of Cas' lips.

His hands held onto Cas' sides, impossible of course to ignore the feel of Cas' warm cock nudging his stomach. His own he could feel sliding dangerously close between Cas' ass – dangerous only because this was by far the furthest he's ever dared to go and it was killing him how much he felt he could come already. He felt Cas' soft moaning against his lips and his head reeled, one hand moving to Cas' lower back.

His other made the move to grab the bottle from the table, bringing it behind Cas' back so he could use both hands to squeeze some of the cool liquid onto his fingers.

Dean would admit he had never pictured himself here – like this… with Cas – ever in the expanse of time he'd known him. Astoundingly his mind had never taken him here, not to the point of them having sex – the nude, penetrating, real thing sort of deal. Dean pulled away from the kiss, leaning his head back against the headboard, trying to mentally prep himself. Physically, too, while he was at it.

"What is it, Dean?" Cas questioned amongst his oddly acquired habit of nuzzling into Dean's neck, his scent seeming a comfort to him.

"Have I gone crazy?" Dean debated, quietly.

"You're very sound, Dean," Cas reassured.

"As an angel…" Dean began, lifting his head, "…is this even going to hurt you?"

It was Cas' turn to pull away, peering back at Dean with a contemplative expression. His cheeks were tinged a pink shade. "Perhaps. I can feel pleasure on a surprisingly… responsive scale, but I have noticed it is only with you. You don't have to worry about hurting me, Dean. I am likely to handle this much better than if I were only human."

"Speaking of," Dean thought suddenly, feeling a swirling in his stomach he was sure was the goddamn nerves again, "Who am I… will it really be you I'm doin' this with?" 'Or your vessel?' was what Dean wanted to say, but he figured Cas would catch on.

"Jimmy Novak's soul has left this body, in the hands of my brothers and sisters. I am, essentially, this body now. If it were different, I'm afraid I would not have allowed myself to get this close to you."

Though it was a suddenly serious update Cas threw out, Dean was thankful for the flutter of relief. He wanted Cas – just Cas.

"Okay, well, I was gonna… uh, well… help you get used to the feeling before I do anything," Dean worked out, mentally punching himself for how inexperienced and tense he sounded. Cas didn't seem to mind, though. He seemed to clutch Dean even tighter, hiding his head against him again.

Ok… you can do this. No problem. Only difference is an ass, no big deal. All of it felt damn good so far and it was only fair to Cas that he not dive in headfirst…

The bottle had been dropped onto the bed, his dry hand returning to rest against Cas' lower back. The one with lube-coated fingers he curled around to feel between Cas, a slick finger exploring before he felt his entrance.

"Ok," he breathed, unsure if he was comforting himself or Cas. The guy felt taut despite him appearing so calm otherwise. He leaned to try and get Cas to release him a bit, enough so he could press light kisses into the angel's neck as he slid one finger inside, slow and gentle, feeling his nerve-softened cock hardening again. It was warm, and tight, and Dean could only think of it wrapped around him. Fuck.

Cas shifted some, a low gasp leaving him. Dean moved his finger a little before pulling back to let another join on the push back in. This time he heard a sharper inhale and faintly a ruffling around Cas' shoulders. "You good?" Dean quietly asked.

"P-peculiar," Cas responded, squirming.

Dean could feel him tighten around his fingers, so he tried to relieve any discomfort with the kisses, which moved along his jaw before catching his lips. He carefully parted his fingers when he pushed them in further – working in a gradual pumping motion - figuring this was the best route for getting Cas used to what would come.

Cas was whining into their kiss, lips parted and eyes squeezed shut. Hell, Dean loved Cas' heightened, less restrained sounds. He could feel his blood pumping eagerly downward, especially when Cas began to move his hips, seeming to be helping himself get used to the sensation. That or he liked it already.

Seriously- was he going to go straight to Hell for this? Here he was, literally having sex with an angel of the Lord, and Dean was pretty sure that beyond him loving Cas, the intimidating knowledge that he was involved with an angel – an otherworldly being, as he's ranted to himself many times – was in all truth here… a huge turn-on.

Nah, he wasn't going to be telling a single living soul about this.

Dean pulled his fingers free, noticing Cas had built up his own rhythm of rocking against him, his now-slick erection sliding against Dean's front. "That good already?" Dean asked with teasing in his voice, trying to play cool while he combatted his own raging arousal.

"Yes," Cas openly replied amongst soft panting. "Your touch… it affects my grace."

"Yeah? How?" Dean had to bite back a groan over hearing that candid yes.

"Lightning."

"Lightning?" Dean repeated, probing.

"That is the only comparison I can make. Your touch elicits… shockwaves of energy in my grace, and it feels…" He paused in thought, a corner of Cas' mouth quirking upward. Smiling. "…warm, and pleasant."

"Huh..." It was Dean's turn to think, because he knew how familiar that sounded, knew he experienced similar when someone's wings were involved.

So what did that mean? They shared some kind of connection, even before the whole life versus death thing had occurred?

Dean didn't mention anything and instead snaked both his hands around to grip Cas' ass. He wiggled a bit so his cock was skimming along skin between him. He could feel the entirety of his skin on fire, hot with an almost worrisome yearning.

Working past the warring flurries of nervous tension, he wrapped a hand around himself and slid until he felt the tip pressing against Cas' entrance, rim still slick with the lube. He heard a shaky breath release itself and realized it was his own.

Then, with confidence he had to hunt for, he finally pushed himself inside, tip and much more entering Cas with the sudden aid from the angel's arching lap. "Fuck," he growled, unable to hold it back. It was as tight and as warm as he'd imagined. Cas' hands moved to grip Dean's shoulders, his body leaning itself back to better accommodate their position. Dean lifted and pushed himself deeper.

Cas' eyes shut. Dean felt himself fully inside now, and was gripping onto Cas' backside to grasp for some sense of control. He felt so ready to lose it.

Cas was the one to move next. Using his legs, he lifted himself, Dean still halfway inside of him, then lowered himself again, groaning softly at the feeling of Dean sliding fully into him again. Dean groaned along with him, his legs unthinkingly spreading so that thrusting was simpler.

Cas lifted himself, keeping grounded with the hands he had at Dean's shoulders, and Dean followed Cas' lift with an upward thrust before letting himself slide out. Cas took that last moment, before Dean's cock left him - to push himself back down, grinding into him. Every time he did, Dean had to fight to keep a pleasured moan from escaping, relishing how hot and taut Cas was, sending ripples of pleasure through every working inch of him.

If it hurt, Cas didn't show it. He let out short, low gasps as they moved together, lips parted and every so often his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Dean shifted beneath Cas as their pace quickened, and out of nowhere when Dean yet again buried in him, Cas let out a much louder, choked moan. Had he – was there…?

And suddenly Dean felt it – a rush of air that felt cool against his heated skin. It was the faint rustling sound that he was sure was Cas' unfolding wings. As soon as Dean's mind registered the thought, he felt everything intensify to an almost overwhelming level. He'd obviously hit a spot within the angel, because Cas left no room for more shifting around on Dean's part.

And then came the lightning. Cas had pulled himself closer to Dean, but for it to work Dean had to lean up closer to Cas as well, his hands sliding up Cas to rest on his upper back. Instantly he felt those delicate wisps of wings against his hands, and just like the occasion where he'd lost it, clinging to Cas in the forest, he was shocked into that entirely different realm of pleasure.

Oh fuck, he couldn't—

Cas had taken over most of the movement now, hips rolling as his legs lifted him, essentially controlling how fast – how hard Dean was fucking him. To think then it had merely been Cas' fingers playing along his waist that had felt like sex. Now—now that they were having sex, Dean had no fucking word in the entire universe to describe this. His head was in another place entirely, his body hardly able to contain the fuckinggodawesome feeling that wracked through every inch of him, causing his whole self to visibly shudder.

He knew he should stop, that he should stop touching Cas' goddamned wings and let everything calm to a more human level, but he couldn't. He didn't want to.

Dean could hear the loud cries of absolute pleasure, so far gone that they were a part of the storm of what… carnality?… something more heavenly?… itself, all of it wringing together as one. He felt pulled by something, something in Cas – that was Cas – and the pull deepened the engulfing sensation of fucking Cas, of being inside the angel.

He could feel hands – fingers – digging into his shoulders, burning his skin, but any pain was nowhere near the bliss that he was overcome with.

Yes, they were lost.

Dean's fingers wrapped around Cas' wrists, pulling them away from his shoulders and with an impassioned strength pitched himself forward, forcing Cas back into the bed, arms trapped above him. He found himself able to control the movement now, though they by no means slowed. He readjusted his hold so one hand kept Cas' wrists caught above him, his free hand now gripping one of Cas' thighs to spread his legs further apart. His hips still rocked insistently forward, fucking Cas as hard as the angel had been striving for while lap-bound.

Somewhere in the background, Dean could feel Cas' wings grazing the muscles of his back, and Dean could hardly focus long enough to wonder if Cas meant to do so, knowing full well how it – literally at this point – got beneath his skin.

Dean's entire body shook and it was an absolute fucking miracle he hadn't come and dissolved into a mess of nothing by now. What the hell was holding them together?

Dean could barely keep eyes open, but during the moments he could, he noticed Cas experiencing the same, the seconds they did make eye contact sending a different brand of lightning through them. Cas' eyes were a brilliant, clear shade of blue that were near hidden by his overcome, dilated pupils. But it was only a second's sight, before Cas' eyes shut and his head was thrown back, more of the noisy moaning joining the air present back in whatever world they left behind.

"C-Cas…" Dean groaned. An insane attempt to continue with a shhhh, but coming nowhere near as he realized Cas wasn't the only one crying out so loudly. Fuck. His body couldn't restrain or express all of this properly, not a chance.

The bolts of lightning that snaked through his system were no longer tiny, instead crackling their way down the entire length of his body, causing his shaking to intensify, his hands hardly able to keep hold of Cas. Any essence of manliness Dean would've clutched onto outside of this seemed to slip completely away, his heavy moaning melting into uninhibited whimpering, every particle in his body pleading for release. His thrusting had slowed, the pleasure of each thrust as good as orgasm after orgasm – but apparently not as merciful.

It wouldn't come, and Cas knew.

"Dean…" Cas breathed, writhing underneath him, hips curving up to keep Dean moving inside of him. He was staring up at Dean, the hunter breathless as he trembled above him, their bodies nearly parallel due to Dean managing to keep hold of his wrists. But Dean's eyes were still closed, and Cas couldn't read him.

"Dean," Cas keened, pulling one arm free to rest his palm against the side of Dean's face. His legs hooked behind Dean's own, pulling them flush as Dean's hips seemed to sink into him, leaving himself inside of Cas despite his visibly draining energy.

"Fuck, Cas… it's so much, I…" Dean murmured, finally opening his eyes to the touch of Cas' hand on his face. There was that green, shining intensity owed to the beautiful soul resting behind and within those eyes. Cas loved when it Dean was this vibrant, especially when not long ago he thought he had lost all of him.

"It won't let us," Cas explained, knowing. Angel… human. It was more complicated than Castiel had thought, largely due to the choice he had made.

"What?" Dean questioned, amusedly appearing as if thwarted. His cheeks were an embarrassed red. Cas knew he had no reason to be.

"My grace."

Dean shivered and with reluctance Cas pulled his wings back and away from where they tickled Dean's back. He seemed to visibly calm with a shaky breath outward, but Cas could see a dark, needing flickering in the hunter's gaze.

"I took part of it away and gave it to you, and it wants it back. Being this close to you is as close as it can get without me physically taking it back from you, and if we were to finish, it can sense we'd be further apart."

"You want it?" Dean questioned, his hand finally loosening its hold around Cas' wrists. Cas felt he may have said something wrong. He felt Dean shifting in a manner elusive, but he stubbornly kept his legs hooked around Dean's, not ashamed to utilize his advantage in strength to keep Dean close. It had felt so wonderful, so beyond his comprehension that it excited him all the more, and even now the sensations hadn't ceased. He could feel it coursing through him, all that was Dean. All that he wanted.

"Don't leave, Dean," Cas implored, his stare unwavering. "I don't want it. I gave it to you to save you, and I will never take it back. It's yours."

"Well," Dean started, tone gruffer now, "okay."

Castiel could sense walls returning, the walls of the more familiar Dean Winchester, who had him so often in a flurry of confusion. He could sense the disappointment, the slight shame that Castiel knew had no reason to exist – human emotion that was needless when Castiel held no judgment toward Dean for not being able to achieve what it was Dean wished for, whether it for himself or for the both of them. He watched as Dean inwardly fought what to do – what to say – next.

"If it won't let us, then how're we supposed to do this?" Dean licked his lips in that nervous habit of his, his eyes lingering on Cas' lips for a brief second. With slightly more bravado, Dean ever so subtly rocked his hips forward, Castiel feeling him hit that particular spot inside of him that sent hot tendrils of pleasure throughout him. His body reacted with him, eyelids fluttering as he breathed out softly.

There was a slight difference now that his grace had calmed in the inactivity. It was that warm feeling more human than familiar, and Castiel pondered the strange idea that this more tender, less obvious movement might keep his grace from so actively reaching out for the part it was missing – the part that was now Dean.

"Like you are," Cas answered, slipping a hand behind Dean's neck to bring him close – to feel his warm breathing, to savor his unique scent he had become so fond of. "Slower, so it won't be on high alert in either of us."

"That kinda ruins the fun," Dean commented, but he rocked forward a second time anyway, a revived smirk tipping the corner of his mouth.

This caused a current of pleasure, evened out by the stirring warmth. Castiel fidgeted in response, legs loosening enough so Dean could move as he wished. Where they were, faces close, Castiel charged in a low tone, "Kiss me."

His words brought back to Dean's gaze a liveliness, a wound-up jump into mischief. Dean thrust into Castiel and as he moaned, Dean took his lips, a hand gripping Castiel's chin, exploring his mouth as if wishing to swallow his body's reflexive noises. Ahh, but the taste of Dean…

He felt himself being swayed by the thrusting, strong but far less vigorous than before. It was almost agonizing, both the sudden switch and the unhurried way the hunter drew out, leaving Castiel feeling an emptiness that intensified a wild longing. It was a longing that dragged up the unusual leaping sensation from stomach to throat, the sounds often unable to stay within him. They couldn't be held back even before, when he was so quickly satisfied, so this time was vastly more difficult.

"Too slow," Cas ground out against Dean's lips, fingers moving to grip tightly into his hair. He was back to barely understanding what his own self was saying. He had felt so lucid before, but Dean had a way with disassembling everything he knew.

"You said this is what we had to do," Dean said, words laced with the same mischievousness he'd seen in his gaze.

It was true. Castiel could no longer feel the fierce pull of his opposing grace, but was this what human was? So leisurely… warm sensations wrought with teasing? It was amazing, beautiful as Dean was, but the lack of forwardness more confounding for Castiel.

Castiel licked his unoccupied lips as he sighed long and heavy, pleased but needing. His head sunk into the bed, dropping away from Dean's mouth. With the sudden freedom, Dean straightened himself, now perched between Cas' legs, hands gripping and lifting the angel's thighs, pushing them further into Cas' own chest. With his backside further exposed, it felt like Dean drove himself deeper inside of him. A low whine escaped from between Cas' lips, hands and fingers kneading the blanket beneath him.

Suddenly, there was nothing but cold, Dean no longer inside of him, hands releasing their hold on his legs. "Dean—" he began, but the man interrupted.

"Since we're doin' things different now, we may as well try new things."

Castiel lifted himself onto his elbows, head angled. "This is… challenging, Dean."

Dean chuckled, sitting there atop his knees on the bed. Castiel enjoyed Dean's laugh. It made up for the sudden lack of feeling him. "Look who's talking, Cas. We were on a roll before your grace decided to take over."

"What are the new things? This is already new, Dean," Cas queried.

"Pretty sure we defy a ton of other norms. Now that we're here…" Dean let his unfinished sentence go, his gaze seeming to observe the room, his lips parted as his breathing steadily continued to even itself.

Castiel found his stare moving from Dean's expression down the expanse of his chest, down the trial of light hair that started at his belly and traveled down to larger patch of hair that surrounded his glaringly hard erection. Castiel swallowed small, unaware of doing so. His own penis twitched, aching slightly. This was terribly different than the last time. They had been clothed and using the friction between them, and Castiel experienced one of the best sensations he'd ever had in the span of his existence, and now that he knew the feeling, he could only anticipate it. How complex sex was.

Dean caught Cas staring and tried to hide the flush that crept over his face. "Hey, what's so fascinating down there?" he reacted. Goddamn it, he was like a teenage girl with Cas, and it was getting ridiculous. They'd fucked, for Christ's sake, and now he couldn't let Cas check stare at his penis a little?

"You are fascinating… everywhere, Dean," Cas replied, eyes returning to Dean's face as seriously as if they were talking of cases.

Dean fought not to heat up further, then distracted himself by taking that second to move off of the bed. "Let's try you up against somethin', huh?" Dean suggested, holding out his hand for Cas to take.

No comprehension of what that meant appeared in the angel's gaze, but he rolled around anyway, taking Dean's hand and letting him lead them away from the bed.

"Anywhere you wanna try?" Dean playfully tossed at him, again hoping to ease the reemerging nerves. They seemed to lessen the longer they kept around each other in the nude, though, especially after having near fucked into oblivion.

"I don't follow you…" Cas replied slowly, eyes narrowing in confusion.

"'Course you don't," Dean replied, idly shaking his head as his eyes fell on the sink that sat near the corner of the room. It was adjacent to the door that led to the rest of the bathroom, but the sink – they always seemed to leave that part separate. It was a counter, set up beneath a huge mirror with the sink a small bowl in the middle. "Sink it is."

Moments later Cas was pressed up against said counter, his hands gripping its edges as they kissed, Dean's hands on top of Cas' own. They were fixed against each other, Dean able to feel Cas' hot length poking into his stomach again.

"Alright, enough with death by anticipation," Dean remarked hastily, feeling an ache in his own cock, driven crazy by the readiness in which Cas responded to him, his body arching as if flush wasn't close enough. Using this instance, Dean grabbed Cas beneath one thigh, lifting it upward as he pushed the both of them harder into the counter.

Cas got the picture and lifted himself the small distance it took for his ass to be resting on the counter, between it's edge and the outer rim of the sink. Once settled, Dean led himself with a free hand back to Cas' entrance, not as measured when he pushed into the angel the second time around. He buried himself completely, gritting his teeth against a moan from the missed feeling.

Cas didn't bother muffling his, a throaty gasp leaving him. Cas had wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders, his other hand pressing into the counter, fingers curled against its surface.

"You been liking this best, Cas?" Dean managed to ask. He pulled back gradually, before swiftly slamming himself back into the man, hoping he still had a handle on the same spot.

A slightly startled but pleasured moan burst from Cas, fingernails now digging into the skin of Dean's shoulders. "Y…Yes…" he hissed.

"That so?" Dean teased as he began to plant chaste kisses against Cas' neck. The angel's head tilted to the side at once, giving Dean room to leave a warm trail.

"Yes… but I did f-favor before…" Cas tried to respond. Dean's hips rocked in and out of the gasping, noisy angel, alternating between a steady thrusting and his slow but insistent comeback. Cas seemed keen on pushing into Dean when he could. "…before when there w-was much… power in it."

"Me too," Dean growled against Cas' neck, playfully biting it. "But this feels pretty damn good too."

Things had gone on long enough that they were both hot. Hot, slick, and sweaty – and Dean could hear the frenzied slap of them coming together, the pace picking up despite Cas' warning about his grace, their grace. Dean could feel slight cracklings shoot through him, but not as intensely as before.

Cas was losing it, breathy moans leaving him with every thrust. He clung to Dean with both arms. Dean still held Cas' leg, his other hand cupping his jaw, kissing him every so often through his untamed noises. Dean was losing it too.

"You're a lot… a lot more into this than I t-thought you'd be…" Dean breathed, his decision to speak letting free a groan. It was either a really fucking good or bad idea to talk, because it was so close to sounding dirty to him, and it drove him that much further into a hot mess – blood pooling, everything tautening, feeling on the edge.

"Anything…" Cas gasped, sounding as if he meant to continue, but physically unable to. The leg Dean wasn't holding lifted to hook around Dean's waist. "For you-ah…" Cas was letting loose a series of whimpers now, Dean's thrusting quickening.

"Harder..." Cas was pleading. Pleading? Fuck… oh god, please… he only had so much strength… "Dean, I—please…" More panting, more keening noises.

Dean was no longer losing it, but lost. He was lost and surrounded by light and heat and energy and all he wanted was to give Cas what he wanted. It was rough, like before, but Cas seemed to want – to need it that way. Rough, unrelenting, no emptiness or space… the grace was overwhelming them again, drawn in by the closeness, but it had come too late this time.

Cas was coming, body spasming with the shuddering intensity of it, crying out so loud Dean was surprised not to hear walls collapsing around them. His entire body stiffened, Cas too strong for Dean to control. Legs had wrapped around his middle, squeezing their bodies close as Cas' untouched erection throbbed, cum released in warm, thick spurts against both Cas' chest and his own.

That was it. Dean was gone.

While gripping tightly to Cas' sides, fingers digging into skin in a way he knew had to be painful – at least for anyone human - he came in hot, pulsing waves deep inside of the angel, a climax longer than he knew possible. At first his body seemed too shocked for sound, but eventually he let out a dazed, chocked groan, pleasure too much amongst a storm of light clouding his vision.

The last thing he saw before the storm overtook him was a flash of blue.

Dean thought he was awake. Maybe he was, but everything was hazy, the only clear thing being Cas at his side.

"What… the hell?" Dean mumbled with eloquence, a fist rising to rub at his eyes. He felt drained. His whole damn self. It was a good thing he was lying in a bed or it was a sure thing he'd topple clean over.

"You passed out," Cas explained.

"You're kiddin' me," Dean griped, arm draping across his forehead to partially hide his horrified face. He hadn't forgotten what they'd been doing just before, and the idea that he blacked out and then crumpled against Cas—awkward much?

"Don't worry, Dean," Cas consoled. Dean suddenly realized the other half of his horrified face was pressed against something warm, something with a steady rise and fall. Cas' gravelly voice came from above his head. "I didn't expect…"

Green eyes opened to see he was nestled against Cas side, his head resting on his bared chest. Cuddling. Cas really liked to cuddle. Hell, if anyone saw him like this…

"Expect what?" he asked, cutting off his train of thought, staying where he was. Sure, every tough bone in his body was protesting against it, years of anti-mushy, anti-girly, and anti-intimacy fighting for control, but Fuck. It. All. Cas was warm and weirdly comfortable and most importantly here. With him. He wouldn't screw it up by pushing himself away this time.

"For it to overwhelm you so considerably. I'm sorry, Dean, for asking…"

Castiel went quiet. Dean could picture his eyes turning to a random spot of nowhere, his own display of bashfulness. How creepy would it be to admit he found it endearing? Gay was what it was, Dean instantly thought. But wasn't he past this? If he wanted to debate with himself, he'd sucked Cas and had full-blown sex with him – gaygaygay. But even Dean knew it was more complicated than that. Cas was the only one he'd ever dared and wanted to do all of this with. It was liking – loving Cas, not something limited to some sexuality crisis. That much Dean was sure of.

"Dean?" Cas was confused by the silence following his apology.

"You don't have to be sorry for everything, Cas. Apologizing for liking something is like me apologizing every time I… take in a forkful of pie."

"I don't see the similarity between pie and begging for more aggressive physical stimuli that endangers you, but I'll try to keep that in mind."

"Jesus, Cas," Dean murmured, mind bringing him back to the moment. "Talk about it more casually." He felt another stupid blush coming on, and so distracted himself by dragging a hand over Cas' chest. His eyes closed as he let himself relax, mind easing into a state of fuzzy content. Fingers glided over Cas' light spread of chest hair, following a narrowing trail past his belly button. Well, being cozied up to a someone with only a bit more body hair than him was friggin' new… an alright kind of new. Okay, a pleasant Cas new. But all of a sudden he drew back his hand.

"Dude, you're still buck naked."

"Yes," Cas agreed, untroubled.

"How long has it been?"

There was quiet, then, "Four hours."

"You've been lying here with me for that long?"

"Yes, is that alright?"

The idea made the miniature butterflies erupt within him. "Sure. No problem."

"We were loud," Cas randomly stated.

What was this – mention everything that'd spring a Dean-nerve hour?

"How do you know?" Dean replied, lifting away from Cas chest, pulling himself up to the angel's level. He wanted a view of Cas' face now, and lying by his side propped up by an elbow wasn't too far away.

Wait—what was he, a puppy now?

Cas was smiling—Dean could tell, even if it was nearly ghost-like, barely there. "What?" Dean demanded.

"I'm sor—I mean… no. No, I'm not." Cas was openly staring at Dean now that they were face-to-face again, appearing more amused at having stopped another apology. "I just found it… funny, you imagining yourself a puppy to relate your attachment to me."

Dean pulled a face, staring back at Cas without humor. So he wanted to play it that way, huh? Jump into his head for a bit?

Sensing Dean's reaction, Cas' eyes flickered upward, avoiding him. "I only looked for a moment. Only long enough to catch that single thought. I promise."

"I bet," Dean retorted doubtfully, but he would let it slide. At this stage, what did he had to hide from Cas, anyway?

"So why's it so funny?" Dean prodded.

"Because when I was canine, I felt it was intensifying what attachment I had to you. Similar, that's all… even though both of us are, essentially, human now, and it's only you and you alone questioning your attachment to me."

It took Dean a second to process what Cas was saying, and when he did he searched the angel's face for a few more long, hard seconds. Of course. Couldn't read a thing.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"Are you worried about it?"

"No." Dean lied. Cas could tell.

"I won't leave."

Dean attempted playing it cool, as he always did, though his heart was beating harder than it had been. "Good, or I'll have to kick your feathery ass."

He glanced over to see Cas and his dumb smiling again. The guy always had to be so mysterious about it. Didn't he know how smiling worked?

"The people next door were hitting the wall."

Eyebrows rose in confusion as he looked to Cas again, but then he remembered his unanswered question. "I didn't hear anything."

"Being an angel has its advantages," Cas said, "Or disadvantages." He was suddenly frowning.

"Wanna elaborate?"

"It's better to not hear background noise while there are more enjoyable things to listen to. Like you, for instance. While we were making love—"

"—passionately fucking," Dean interjected.

"…Fucking," Cas continued slowly, as if the term was foreign to him. "I heard the wall being hit. I heard Jessica barking, and I heard young people giggling outside."

"Please tell me that's your idea of a joke."

"I don't often joke. I do wish I were. However, the feeling accompanying the… fucking did overcome such distraction, and so did your own noises, since we were, of course… much closer." The frown faded from Cas, but Dean may as well have stolen it from him. He wore one for the both of them.

"Well that's just peachy," Dean muttered sarcastically, rolling to bury his face into his pillow. "The whole world knows."

"It's likely to only be the people in the vicinity of this motel."

"Oh, that's good."

Around nine, after sleeping a few more needed hours and taking a hot shower, Dean was starting to wonder why Sam hadn't come around yet. Nine was typically late for them to hit the road again, but hey, Dean wouldn't deny they deserved it after this last case.

He hit the vending machines outside, settling on waters and pastry things. There wasn't any coffee here, and sorry Sam, but no portable salads. As he scooped their breakfast out, he was beginning to grumble in worry.

"I bet he's pissed because he got me that room specifically to avoid anything to do with me and you."

Dean started walking toward the Impala, storing his bag and deciding to wait it out some more. Cas had followed him, squinting as he often did when in thought. "I wasn't aware Sam was avoiding us."

"Just us us," Dean clarified.

"Uh… yes. Us. I understood that, but why?"

Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sometimes…

"I meant he wants to be spared us being…" Dean sighed. "Sexual."

"Do you think he minds the love itself… that we share?" Downturned eyes.

"Shouldn't you know?"

"I try not to interfere with Sam's mind. You two are brothers and I believe that a better way to know each other."

Dean shifted uneasily against the car, arms crossing over his chest as Cas once again brought up a superbly serious subject Dean didn't really care for mulling over. Sure, he'd admitted his feelings for Cas, but that didn't mean it was going to be easier the next time, or the time after that.

"I don't know… probably not. Sam's a good guy," he mumbled reservedly.

"Sam is a very kind person," Cas agreed. "He cares for your happiness."

"Yeah," Dean replied, unsure of what to say. Sam might care for that, but he also cared about not being scarred for life. A lot like anyone would. Dean held his tongue.

Ten more minutes had to have gone by before Dean finally heaved an impatient sigh. "Time's up, Sammy." Off he went to Sam's door, giving it two sharp knocks.

"Yo, Sammy. Better not be dead."

There was definitely a shuffling in there, along with a short yip of a bark, then the door opened to reveal his towering, glowering brother.

"Someone get up on the wrong side?" Dean joked, grinning sheepishly.

"I don't own earplugs, Dean," Sam said through his glare.

"Cry me a river?" Dean remarked as if he had no idea what Sam was getting at. Yeah, time to quickly walk away, and so he did, turning back to the car. "Let's go?"

"Answer one thing first."

"Yeah?" Dean stopped.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?"

Instantly Dean feigned innocence, pointing at Cas. "His fault."

Cas actually looked startled to have been brought into their morning greeting. He blinked then, "… I suppose it was. My grace reacts strongly to—"

"You can stop there," Dean insisted.

"I—"

"Nope, that's fine as is."

"It was your fault too," Sam contended, to Dean's relief actually leaving his room with bag over shoulder and dog prancing along by leash. "Everyone. It woke up everyone. Why, Dean? Why?" The last of his words was practically a lament.

"You always target me, man, when I'm not even the one."

"Cas doesn't know better," Sam spoke in a hush.

"Oh come the fuck on!" Dean exclaimed. "He's not some innocent little…" he gestured toward Cas in frustration, at a loss for a good enough name. "Just… he isn't!"

Suddenly a group of teenagers were peering very noticeably out of a motel room door nearby where they were parked. Their snooping, judging stares got under Dean's skin in a split second – but they kept doing it, going between him, Cas, and Sam. He even took time to glare at them, but Cas ruined the threat by leaning toward Dean and opening his mouth.

"They were the young people giggling… concerning our activities," Cas made clear.

"Great," Dean replied dully, his patience worn away entirely. "You see something you like, you pervy sons of a bitches?!" he called out, none too polite.

"Dean," Sam all but reprimanded as the group disappeared back into their room with wide eyes. "You can calm down. I guess I can shove aside all the moaning… screaming…oh, gross. Horrors of the night… ugh, forget I even spoke."

"Not until you get on Cas' case. Every time something's happened, you blame me. Me. But you know why these things happened in the first place? Him."

Dean stood there stubbornly, receiving no support from either end. Cas merely stared at him, an unreadable look in his eyes – and Sam, he looked like Dean was projecting in all the wrong directions, as if he really was the only inconsiderate one.

When nothing happened, Cas suddenly spoke up, head tilted thoughtfully. Seriously. "No… you are at fault, Dean. I learned about personal space from you, but you don't follow your teachings. When I'm away, you wish me close."

Dean opened his mouth wordlessly. This wasn't happening. Cas was not turning on him, throwing him to his own brother.

"Also..." Cas mused, "that night when we awoke you, Sam? Dean… he assured me it was fine to keep going, even with you sleeping. He told me to be as loud as I want."

"What? What?!" Dean rebutted, horrified. What the hell was going on – what kind of game was Cas playing? What happened to him not even knowing how… how…

Cas leaned forward into their little makeshift circle, as if relaying to them both a secret. "Dean has a preference for expression at higher volumes."

"Okay, all of this is definitely made up," Dean defended, laughing in disbelief, shooting the angel a look. "Seriously, Cas. What the hell?"

But Cas looked genuinely puzzled by Dean's reaction.

"That's pretty gnarly even for you, Dean, with your own brother in the room," Sam said with a faintly scrunched-up nose, clearly disturbed by Cas' sudden 'sharing is caring' time. A goddamn fabricated one! Dean remembered that night, and it was definitely himself that was worrying about being in the same room as Sam.

"And last night, he was… especially adamant about our volume. He spoke of wanting us loud enough to wake the world." Cas shrugged naively in that awkward little way of his, "I don't understand his… fixations."

"Do I even want to know why that was plural? I think I've… yeah, I've heard enough." Sam made a gagging motion in Dean's direction. "Stop being an exhibitionist, Dean. Think about how you're corrupting Cas. He's an angel, remember?"

Dean couldn't even respond, his jaw tightly clenched as he watched Sam escape into the Impala's passenger seat, Jessica jumping into his lap after him, banned from going anywhere else in the car. No, he wouldn't stay irritated with Sammy – this time it was all on Cas. Dean's head turned toward him, prepared to punch him one even at the expense of the bones in his hand. Dean wasn't savvy with handling humiliation, this much was obvious, and Cas had thrown him in headlong.

"You gonna tell me what that was all about?" Dean grilled.

Cas stepped forward, maddeningly stoic even though Dean knew there had to be something going on behind those walls of his. "Do you see it?" Cas asked.

"See what?"

"It doesn't exist between us," Cas responded, eyes narrowing as if scrutinizing the reasons Dean was unable to see what was so clearly there. Dean was grasping at memories, feeling such familiarity in this moment. Cas took another step forward, so close Dean could see… those dark eyelashes in awkward detail. "That was one of many clues."

You thought you had it, and now we've established we love each other. You need to be careful where you point fingers, because though I love you, I will play games until you're no longer ashamed of the fact I quite gracefully…. breached what is now nonexistent."

"Cryptic, Cas… but what are you gettin' at?"

The angel gestured outward with open arms at his sides; Dean could hear a rustling mirroring the movement, imagining the angel's black wings outstretched. Cas showed sign of a smirk rather than a smile, for once a very visible sly curl of lips brightened Cas' stare.

Dean couldn't help it. He lifted a hand above Cas' shoulder, sneaking it behind to weave through the invisible, feathery fog that were Cas' wings. Dean instantly felt a barrage of lightning wind through his veins, both warm and cool at once. He didn't even notice he'd wrapped his arms around Cas' neck – an effort to hide the entirety of his arms within the sensation of the other's wings.

"See," Cas calmed, closing his eyes to the feeling of Dean's touch against his wings. Warmth overcame him – reassuringly human and wholly Dean.

"I am your personal space, Dean Winchester."

Half a minute later, a window to the Impala rolled down behind them, the end of an impatient sigh caught by the outside air. "Can you guys stop for ten whole seconds? We've got a case two states over. You can hold hands again when we stop for gas."