Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

Last chapter…wow. Fun fact: I wrote chapter one all the way back in September 2015, as a fun oneshot idea about what might have happened if Dean had said 'love' instead of 'need'. But then I thought that I could expand on that, so I spent a month plotting, put it down for a year, then came back and wrote it. And you guys have been amazing throughout my first full-length fic that I've completed that hasn't been drabbles and hasn't been based wholly around canon (like 'As Time Goes By' was).

So…thanks for being so special, you guys. I'm nowhere near those amazing top authors who get tens of thousands of views and reviews, but I've got a pretty special group right here and that makes me very happy :)

(Also, spoilers for 12x10 if you haven't seen it yet, though I added my own info to flesh it out).

Thanks to Skyla Andrews, LuNaLoverAlex, dean-winchester-is-our-king and L. Thestrup for your reviews :) And a massive thanks to everybody who has reviewed, favourited and followed – you guys are amazing :D

When Dean leaves the bathroom, still flushed from his recent activities in the shower, he's ecstatic to find Castiel waiting for him in the main room with a big, steaming apple pie on the table. Dean grins widely at him.

"Dude, pie! Knew I could count on you!"

Sam, who's sitting at the table with a book, rolls his eyes.

"I refuse to be guilted just because I forget your damn pie all the time."

Dean stabs a finger at him.

"No, you've lost all privileges. Cas here's my favourite now."

"I'm your brother!" Sam says indignantly.

"Cas brings me pie. You don't. Plus, you didn't jump up and fall at my feet just now and thank me for surviving Naomi's incredibly traumatic attack."

Sam rolls his eyes again; this time, so hard that Dean thinks it a miracle they don't lodge in his brain.

"Whatever. I'll leave you two to suck up and play tonsil hockey."

Castiel stares, brow furrowed, as Sam leaves the room.

"Is Sam mad at me because I bought you pie and he doesn't? I didn't mean to upset him."

Dean snorts and crosses over to Castiel, then caresses his cheek.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he says. "Sam isn't annoyed. He's just pretending to be."

"Ah. And why do you keep calling me nicknames?"

Dean's smile falls nervously.

"Uh, just pet names. I can stop if you don't like 'em."

Castiel's face clears.

"No, I do like them. I just wondered why you call me 'angel' and 'sunshine' and 'sweetheart'."

"Don't tell anyone I do. My manliness is at stake."

It's Castiel's turn to roll his eyes.

"Your secret is safe with me," the angel teases. Dean blinks and stares at him.

"Was that…actual sarcasm?" he says in mock surprise. "Did my baby angel actually use sarcasm?"

"I'll take your pie away," Castiel threatens. Dean immediately sharpens up.

"No. I'm sorry. Don't take my pie."

He sits down to eat, Castiel sitting next to him. A small grin graces Castiel's mouth.

"You smell of endorphins. Did you achieve orgasm in the shower?"

Dean chokes on his mouthful of warm apple pie, so Castiel sighs and slaps him on the back to help dislodge it.

"Yeah," Dean wheezes. Despite his streaming eyes and general lack of dignity, he still winks at the angel. "Just a little somethin' to help ya later. Y'know, only if you wanna. I ain't gonna pressure you into anything."

Castiel's eyes widen a fraction and then a calm smile settles on his face.

"I can't wait to see what sexual acts you have in mind," he says.

Dean can't finish his pie quickly enough.

The two of them retreat to Dean's room after he finishes his pie. There's an awkward moment where they pass Sam, and Dean has to slow down and school his features so as to not look like he's overly eager to get back to his room and do the horizontal tango with Castiel. He's not sure how well he pulled this off; judging by the knowing smirk on Sam's face, he's pretty sure he failed miserably.

"You two just…have fun." Sam pauses awkwardly, the smirk fading. "And…I'm gonna need ear plugs, aren't I?"

Dean grins wolfishly, eager to get one up over his baby brother.

"Might wanna stay down here as well. I'm betting ten bucks that Cas is a screamer."

"Gross!" Sam exclaims, wrinkling his nose. "I just – I'm glad you're back and – y'know – not dead and all. So, uh…goodnight! I'll just – stay down here and try not to think about – um, yeah…"

Cackling, Dean grabs Castiel by the hand and tugs him towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. He doesn't release Castiel until they're in his room and the door's shut.

"Why do you insist on teasing Sam about your intention to have sex with me?" Castiel frowns. Dean's stomach jolts at how casual Castiel is about what's hopefully going to happen. "You told me before that the topic of sex is taboo due to discretion. Teasing Sam hardly feels discreet."

Dean grins and reaches out to grab the lapels of Castiel's trench coat and reel him in. Castiel goes willingly, his eyes darting to Dean's lips when the man licks them.

"Because…" Dean slowly shucks off Castiel's trench coat and suit jacket, then works to undo his blue tie. "It's fun. He's my little brother. I'm supposed to make his life a misery."

Castiel's still frowning, though Dean can tell that undressing him is affecting him, if his soft panting is any indication.

"So it would be inappropriate for me to tease him?" the angel says as Dean unbuttons his white shirt. "As he's not my brother? But you're allowed to make him uncomfortable because you're his brother?"

"Bingo," Dean drawls, pushing Castiel's shirt off his shoulders. Now the angel is naked from the waist up and Dean shifts as blood begins to surge south and his heart rate starts to increase because damn, Castiel is freaking hot. And he's all Dean's. Dean gets to have this – this fiercely loyal, protective, kind, good angel wrapped up in sexy packaging – and he still doesn't quite believe that he deserves this, but he's just selfish enough that he's going to keep Castiel anyway.

"But why do humans make their family miserable? I'm not sure I understand this human custom, even though I've been privy to your family dynamic with Sam for years."

Dean shrugs.

"'S how humans show affection. I don't get it either, but you get this rush when your family makes fun of you. Sam pisses me off when he gets all 'smug asshole' but I still love it."

His eyes are still roaming over Castiel, drinking in the sight of his shirtless, messy-haired angel. His dick is hard and aching now, but he doesn't want to whip it out just yet.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Castiel asks, puzzled. "You're just standing there and staring at me."

Dean holds up a finger.

"I'm admiring a work of art," he says. "Hot damn. I'm two seconds away from drawing you like one of my French girls."

He expects Castiel to put on that adorable 'I don't understand that reference' face, but the angel just crosses his arms over his chest and curls in on himself. Worry starts to gnaw at Dean's stomach.

"Okay, what'd I do?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that crap, Cas. I clearly said something you don't like, so spill."

Castiel sighs and looks away.

"This…isn't my body," he mumbles. "This is Jimmy's body. You don't know what I truly look like and I can't show you my true form without burning your eyes out of your sockets. So I should not have an issue with you finding my vessel attractive…but I do."

Dean blinks. Then he blinks again, because this issue honestly hadn't even occurred to him.

"You do know I'm not in it for a hot body, right?" he says. "I mean, sure, that's a pretty sweet bonus. But I was havin' issues with liking you for ages because you were in a guy's body. Hell, I'm glad you're not a chick, or I'd probably have hit on you two seconds after you pulled that knife outta your chest in that warehouse."

Castiel shrugs, still not looking at Dean. Dean gently takes his chin and lifts it, so that the angel has to look at him.

"It's you I want," Dean says firmly. "Not Jimmy. Sure, his body's hot, but I don't think of it as his. I've known you for years, Cas. So when I say you're hot, I mean all of you. Yeah, Jimmy's attractive, but he…he carried himself differently. I dunno how to describe it. He didn't have that voice of yours, or that way you walk, or even that look behind his eyes. I look into those eyes and it's you."

He steps closer to Castiel and drags his fingers from Castiel's chin up his face, finally splaying them across his cheek. Castiel leans into the touch, eyelids fluttering.

"Trust me, I know it's you every time I say you're hot or I touch you," Dean continues. "If Jimmy came back and took his body back, I wouldn't wanna touch him. Sure, I'd probably think he's hot – and maybe even pop a boner because I'm so used to thinking of this body as you and this body is good-looking – but I wouldn't want him like I want you. And if you found a way to show me your true form, I'd take it in a heartbeat."

Hoping that he's gauged everything right, he leans in and brushes his lips against Castiel's. He gets no response for a moment but then Castiel slowly begins to kiss back.

"I love you." Dean revels in the pride that surges through him at being able to say that word again at long last. It seems like he can only say that word when it's really important…or when he's just being a major freaking chick. "Not Jimmy. And if your vessel was butt ugly, I'd still love you. Sure, I'm shallow, but…you're different, Cas. You've always been different when it comes to these things."

Castiel is silent. Dean pulls back, worried that he's just screwed everything up, but then Castiel gives him a small smile and the pit inside Dean's stomach begins to fade.

"Thank you, Dean. That means a lot."

They stand in silence. Dean isn't sure if the mood's ruined or not, and he doesn't want to look like some sleaze who's only after ass by trying to seduce Castiel further.

"So…what other vessels did you have?" he asks. Castiel gives him a confused look. "I wanna know more about you, Cas. You said angels haven't been down here for two thousand years. Did you have other vessels before the no-fly zone?"

Castiel shrugs sheepishly.

"That's…not entirely true," he admits. "A hundred years ago, I was under the command of an angel called Ishim. We had a mission that we needed to carry out. We technically were not supposed to be on Earth but I was a soldier and orders were orders."

"What was the mission?" Dean says curiously. Pain flickers across Castiel's face for a moment.

"I'd…rather not say."

That means it must have been pretty gruesome. Dean wants to push for more information but he also doesn't want to make Castiel feel like shit. The angel's only just discovered free will and he probably doesn't want to dwell on all the crap he had to do under orders in Heaven.

"My vessel then was a woman called Margaret Whitlock. In fact, she happened to be Jimmy Novak's great-grandmother – her daughter, Elizabeth Whitlock, married Danilo Novak, a Serbian immigrant, despite her family's disapproval. Margaret looked remarkably similar to Jimmy, as a matter of fact. You would have found her extremely attractive."

Dean tries to picture a pretty woman with dark hair and blue eyes and Castiel's serious, awkward demeanour, but it doesn't feel right. He's so used to seeing Castiel as he is now that he can't imagine him any other way – nor does he really want to.

"I might've found her attractive but she's still not you," Dean says. "I told you, I don't care about your vessel. What makes your body hot is how it's yours and how you carry yourself."

This time, Castiel's smile is wider. He reaches out to cup Dean's face with both hands, then draws him in for a sweet kiss.

"I don't want to think about anything else right now," the angel says. "All I want is you, Dean." He looks down. "I – Dean, I nearly lost you. I got your phone call and you said that Naomi had you and – I was so furious, Dean. I was ready to do anything to save you, including giving myself up."

His stomach flipping, Dean huffs out a laugh.

"Well, that's probably the dumbest thing you've ever done. I'm not worth that much, Cas."

The next moment, Dean's smothered by Castiel crushing their lips together, still holding his face tenderly and pressing himself against every inch of Dean's front, as though he wants to climb inside the man. Dean makes a sound of surprise that quickly gives way to an approving groan as he slides his hands around Castiel to rest at the small of the angel's back. They only break apart when Dean's certain he's going to pass out.

"Don't ever talk about yourself like that," Castiel growls. His eyes are wild, with dilated pupils, and Dean's sure that if he stares at them for too long, he'll lose himself in them. "You are everything to me, Dean. Now shut up and make love to me."

As Castiel deftly slides Dean's shirt from his shoulders, Dean whines in protest of that name.

"Don't call it that," he complains, lifting his arms to let Castiel practically rip off his T-shirt. "Nobody calls it 'making love' these days. That's cheesy as hell."

"Maybe they should," Castiel mumbles, running his hands up Dean's torso. Dean shivers violently at the feeling of those long fingers trailing along his skin. "Maybe more people would come to appreciate the intimacy of the act if it was called 'making love', rather than focusing on sleeping with random people."

Dean snorts.

"Dude, the sex isn't what makes it intimate. If someone wants casual sex, I say let 'em go. You want intimacy, you gotta work for it outside sex – y'know, doing cheesy couple stuff. That's what makes sex intimate."

Castiel hums in agreement. He brushes his thumbs over Dean's nipples, igniting sparks beneath Dean's skin, and Dean groans and tips his head back. Castiel quickly takes advantage of this to latch on to the bolt of Dean's jaw with his lips and suck. Dean curls the fingers of one hand in the angel's hair when Castiel nips hard and uses his tongue to soothe the skin before trailing kisses down Dean's throat.

"You sure you're a pure, saintly virgin?" Dean groans.

"I've watched more of your educational videos. I've learned a lot about pleasuring your partner from them."

Castiel grazes his teeth over Dean's collar, then bites. Dean gasps at this, the pain working to enhance the pleasure that courses through him, and he yanks on Castiel's hair, causing the angel to growl.

"Cas – shit, that feels so good – Cas, porn isn't – it's not meant to teach you," Dean says shakily as Castiel presses kisses all over Dean's chest. "That shit's not realistic. Just a bunch of actors."

Castiel ignores this in favour of nipping and kissing Dean's stomach, though Dean's not really complaining. It's not long before Castiel has covered every inch of Dean's torso in kisses and blossoming marks and by this time, Dean's openly panting and he's harder than he's been in a while. Castiel backs off to proudly survey his handiwork, then he grabs Dean by the biceps and pulls him in for a searing kiss. While Dean's distracted by the angel's perfect mouth – damn, if he could live in Castiel's kisses forever then he so would – Castiel walks him backwards, and his brain is so fuzzy that he doesn't realise just what's happening until he topples down onto the mattress and Castiel straddles his hips.

"I'd like to be inside you, if you don't mind," Castiel murmurs against his lips. Dean gives him a shaky grin.

"That was kinda the plan, sweetheart."

Castiel's eyes light up. Dean vows in that moment to do everything in his power to see that look in those brilliant blue eyes again.

"From what I've seen in these videos, I have to…open you up?"

The uncertainty in his voice is just so freaking adorable that Dean's grin widens, his head addled with lust.

"What d'you think I was doing in the shower, sunshine? I was hopin' you'd wanna do this."

Castiel's eyes seem to become even more blown. He reaches down and begins to fumble with the button of Dean's jeans, snarling in frustration when his shaky fingers can't undo it. Snickering, Dean pulls his hands away and then curls a hand around the nape of his neck and draws him in for a kiss.

"Just relax," Dean says. "'S not a race or anything."

"But I want you naked now!" Castiel snaps. Dean grins.

"Budge up, angel."

"You're really not allowed to call me that," Castiel grumbles, wriggling off him. "It would be like me calling you 'human'."

Dean just smirks and undoes his jeans, then lifts his hips and tugs them and his boxer briefs down. Castiel's quick to finish the job, after which Dean returns the favour and divests Castiel of his slacks, boxers, shoes and socks. The moment neither of them have a stitch of clothing on, Castiel's back on top of Dean and kissing him furiously. Dean gladly reciprocates, wrapping a leg around Castiel's thighs and grinding up. Castiel gasps into his mouth, then pulls away to kiss the side of Dean's mouth and then start to journey downwards.

"Cas – what –?"

Castiel ignores him, trailing sweet little kisses down Dean's chest and leaving eruptions of goosebumps in his mouth's wake. He pauses to study Dean's nipples almost curiously for a moment, then takes the left one into his mouth, and Dean can't stop the gasp that escapes him.

"How – how are you so –?"

"I told you, Dean. I researched this topic so that I could bring you as much pleasure as possible."

He spends what feels like hours just showering attention on Dean's nipples – licking, suckling, tugging, scraping them between his teeth. It's driving Dean absolutely mad; he wants Castiel to move on already, to put him out of his lust-induced madness, but he's never been worshipped like this, like Castiel's doing to his body…he's never felt so loved.

He tenses, waiting for the inevitable rush of fear and instinct to distance himself from this, from the love he doesn't deserve…but it doesn't come. All he feels is Castiel everywhere – on top of him, pressed to him…and, as cheesy as it sounds, in his heart.

He groans at that thought and slaps a hand to his forehead. Castiel pulls back from his swollen nipples, brow furrowed.

"Are you okay, Dean?"

"I'm having a freaking chick flick moment in my head," Dean complains. "Damn you, Cas. Now you're stuck with me and I'm being totally selfish and don't wanna let you go."

Castiel's lips twitch. He leans down and brushes a gentle kiss against Dean's lips.

"I don't want you to let me go," he says. "I'm being selfish as well. I want to keep you all to myself and not share you with anybody."

He looks away almost shamefully.

"I was so…envious of every woman you slept with," he admits. "Every woman from the moment I realised my feelings for you. I've loved you since choosing to rebel for you but I didn't realise what these feelings actually meant until I saw you on the ground in Stull Cemetery, bloody and bruised and coming to terms with Sam jumping into the Cage."

Dean's rapt, listening to Castiel almost as though he's under a spell.

"I suppose that's another reason why I chose to go to Crowley to help with Purgatory. I told myself that I didn't want to involve you in this life again when you were happy…but really, I was scared. I was scared that I would end up revealing my feelings for you, and you were with Lisa. I would almost certainly have been rejected."

An almost physical sort of pain aches deep inside Dean. He's still not sure just why this angel of the Lord fell for him – a nobody with no self-worth and a suicidal compulsion to save people – but he can't stand to see the look of utter sadness on Castiel's face and he silently vows to never hurt this angel again if he can help it.

Before Castiel can do anything, Dean hooks a leg around his waist and flips them over before crushing their lips together. Castiel lets out a surprised sound, which Dean eagerly swallows, and once Dean detaches from his lips in order to latch on to the angel's pulse point, Castiel can't stop gasping.

"Dean," he chokes, wrapping his arms around Dean's shoulders and digging his nails into the flesh. Dean makes a small shushing noise as he pulls back to survey the blossoming bruise on Castiel's throat with pride.

"Just lemme do this," he says. Castiel nods and then practically melts into the bed as Dean covers his collar and torso in gentle kisses and scarlet hickeys. By the time Dean's finished teasing Castiel's nipples into stiff, red-bitten peaks, the angel is openly panting and he looks like he's been attacked, what with the marks everywhere on his skin. It's only then that Dean shuffles further down and eyes Castiel's straining, blood red dick, precome pearling at the tip.

"God help me," Dean mutters. Before Castiel can ask what's wrong, Dean bends and envelops the head of Castiel's cock with his lips, smirking around the flesh in his mouth when Castiel chokes on his own breath. He then sinks down further, taking as much of the length into his mouth as he can until he starts to choke.

"Dean – that's – oh," Castiel wheezes, his whole body trembling. Dean, meanwhile, works on relaxing his throat so that he can take even more of Castiel. He's surprised at how not-disgusting this is; he'd been expecting to hate this, to only do this to pleasure Castiel, but he actually likes having Castiel in his mouth. The angel tastes salty and bitter – not exactly the best taste in the world, but it's Castiel and that's what makes it perfect. He wouldn't mind doing this again, both to make Castiel happy and because he enjoys it. Fumbling around for Castiel's hand, he laces their fingers for a moment, staring Castiel right in the eye and hoping that he looks mischievous, before moving Castiel's hand to his hair. Castiel's fingers immediately fist in the short locks and Dean pulls off his cock with a wet slurp.

"Feel free to pull," he says with a cheeky little smile. "And tell me when you're gettin' close. Don't want you to come just yet."

With that, he returns to his task. As he bobs his head, swirls his tongue around the head, hums lightly around the dick in his mouth, he relishes in the pants and moans that flow from Castiel and how the angel's tugging on his hair hard enough to really turn him on, but not hard enough that it seriously hurts. Dean doesn't really have a pain kink but he finds that a little dash of it just enhances the pleasure when he has sex and so he encourages his partner to pull on his hair, to scrape their nails down his skin, to slap him on the ass – and yeah, that's enough thinking about previous sex when he's currently so far into Castiel's pants that his mouth should replace the angel's boxers.

He's wrenched from his thoughts by Castiel whimpering, "I'm going to –" before yanking on Dean's hair hard. Dean pulls away, a line of saliva keeping his mouth attached to Castiel's dick, and he can't even get a word out before Castiel's hauling him back up the bed, tangling his fingers back in Dean's hair, and then forcing him down for a searing kiss. Deliberately avoiding brushing against Castiel's dick, Dean kisses back, cupping Castiel's cheek with one hand, and he's so into the kiss that he's taken by surprise when Castiel flips them. He's given a moment to take a shaky breath and get his balance back before Castiel's attacking his mouth again. Dean tries to make the heated kiss last for as long as possible, until he absolutely needs air.

"I love you." Castiel sounds utterly wrecked. Dean just groans, his hands roaming all over Castiel's torso and back as though he's starving for touch, heat coursing through him. "I love you so much, Dean."

"Just hurry up and get inside me, you sap. Lube's in the drawer."

Despite assuring Castiel that he opened himself up in the shower, the angel refuses to take his word for it and he won't go further until he sees for himself that he can fit four fingers inside. Only then does he pull back to coat his dick in lube, while Dean watches as his heart hammers furiously in anticipation. After a moment, Castiel gently spreads his legs wide open and crawls on top of him.

"Are you sure, Dean?" Castiel asks. Dean rolls his eyes and tugs Castiel down for a kiss.

"Would I have taken all that time in the shower if I wasn't?"

Castiel ducks his head with a grin. Dean only has enough time to marvel at how Castiel's been smiling and laughing a lot more since they've been together before Castiel shifts and…oh, God. There's a cock inside him.

"Tell me if I cause you any pain," Castiel demands breathlessly as he pushes inside at a snail's pace, inch by inch. Dean, meanwhile, can't even breathe. Forget using his fingers – he's so much fuller with Castiel's cock than with fingers, and once Castiel bottoms out and his hips are flush against Dean's ass, Dean can barely even remember that he's supposed to feel emasculated by having another man's dick up his ass.

"Dean," Castiel groans, resting his forehead against Dean's. "You – I'm so close to you. I can feel your soul…"

Dean leans up to kiss Castiel, wraps his legs around the angel's waist, and hooks his arms underneath Castiel's and grips his shoulder blades.

"Move," Dean gasps. Castiel pulls back slowly and gives an almost cautious thrust, so Dean decides to encourage him by forcing Castiel's pelvis down with his heels and rolling his own hips up. That seems to be all the encouragement that Castiel needs to start up a steady rhythm that's not fast enough for Dean's tastes but definitely better than before.

"So tight," Castiel whimpers against Dean's lips. "I didn't – you've told me about it but I didn't know that sex could feel this good…"

Dean laughs breathlessly, nearly overwhelmed with the pleasure that sparks inside him with every thrust of Castiel's hips.

"Feels way better if you move," he says.

Castiel raises an eyebrow, as though Dean has just issued a challenge, and then he pulls back and snaps his hips forward roughly. This new pace is far faster and harder, much to Dean's delight, and he lets out breathy moans and grunts every time Castiel's hips slap against his ass. God, he doesn't know why he was so worried about having a dick up his ass before…it feels so damn good and he's going to have Castiel in his ass as much as he can, masculinity be damned.

Then Castiel shifts ever so slightly and – Jesus fuck, that's his prostate! Dean gives a long, strangled moan and moves one hand to the back of Castiel's head to pull him in for a messy kiss, the fingers of his other hand digging into Castiel's shoulder blade as hard as possible and his hips rolling up to meet every thrust of Castiel's. Now that Castiel's found his prostate and is aiming for it every time he thrusts, it doesn't take long for Dean to approach that knife's edge of being overwhelmed with pleasure as heat curls in his belly and a tingling sensation spreads through his limbs and up his spine. To help him along, Castiel reaches down between them and begins to stroke Dean's dick in time with his thrusts. This combination of Castiel jerking him off and pounding into his prostate is driving Dean absolutely mad – he's drifting away, floating around, only grounded by the volcanic heat melting his insides – but it's not quite enough.

"Cas – God, Cas, so good, so perfect, angel –" he whines, head thrown back to expose his throat. Castiel takes advantage of this opportunity to move his lips to Dean's throat and he bites, nearly drawing blood with how out of his mind he is at the moment. This burst of pain is exactly what Dean needs to finally come, arching off the bed and smashing their lips together to let Castiel's faintly glowing mouth take in the long, whining moan that escapes him (Christ, he can see Castiel's grace in his mouth and eyes, he's really not sleeping with another person ever again, this is so hot). As scorching fire surges through him and he's practically detached from his body, he spills over Castiel's fist and his own belly, and his ecstasy is what Castiel seems to need to come himself, his eyes and mouth lit up with his pulsing grace.

"Dean –!"

He moves his head to sink his teeth into the meat between Dean's neck and shoulder, wrenching a sharp intake of breath out of Dean, and Dean groans when he feels Castiel filling him up, pumping come deep inside him. His stomach jolts at the bright blue-white light radiating out of Castiel's eyes and mouth, reminding him that Castiel isn't human and is in fact an angel who fell for him in every way possible. And honestly, if he can bring Castiel such pleasure that the angel can't control his very life essence, Dean's not sure if he can bring himself to feel guilty anymore. Especially not when a long, high-pitched sound is filling the room and causes the light bulb to shatter, followed by the glass in Dean's pictures, then any other breakable thing he's got in his room.

Exhausted, they both go limp, Castiel sprawled over Dean's body. Neither of them seem to care about the sticky mess between their stomachs, and Dean's too blissed-out to care about the come trickling out of his ass when Castiel reaches down with a shaky hand to pull himself out, then taps his fingers against Dean's ass to clean them both up.

"My apologies, Dean," Castiel says breathlessly. "I didn't mean to be so loud but you felt so…amazing."

Still recovering, Dean can't say anything, but he just shoots Castiel an exhausted smile. Castiel's lips twitch and he lazily waves a hand to restore everything he'd broken to their original state.

"Jesus Christ," is all Dean can mumble when his voice returns, carding his fingers through Castiel's hair. Castiel narrows his eyes, though not threateningly.

"I'm never going to get you to stop, am I?" he says. Dean grins at him.

"Nope. I'm a free spirit, Cas. You can't tell me what to do."

Castiel rolls his eyes to high heaven, then wriggles off Dean and snuggles into his side, pulling the covers up over them to their chests as their sweaty bodies start to cause them to shiver.

"That's one of the many reasons I love you," he says. Dean's stomach does a flip, then begins to flutter when he looks at Castiel and sees blue eyes filled with affection and plump pink lips curved into a soft smile. "And as long as I'm still alive, no one will ever get their hands on you again. Not Naomi…not Heaven…not Hell…"

He leans up and gives Dean a sweet kiss.

"Nobody," he says firmly. The intense look in his eyes successfully demolishes the last of Dean's weakening defences and, a giddy grin on his face, he rolls on top of Castiel and kisses him deeply. Castiel sighs and melts into the kiss. When Dean pulls back for air, he slides back off Castiel and holds the angel close in his arms.

"My own little guardian angel," he teases, pressing a kiss to Castiel's damp black hair and stroking his back. Castiel smells of honey and fresh rain after a thunderstorm, along with the musky scent of sex, and Dean's pretty sure he could get drunk off this smell alone for the rest of his life. Hell, he'd bottle it up and sell it as Amortentia if he wasn't so possessive of the dorky little angel in his arms.

"I'll smite you," Castiel threatens, though this is ruined by the huge yawn he gives. Dean snickers.

"Of course you will. And that's why I love you, sunshine."