Dean shifted nervously on the balls of his feet, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. He shivered against the cold wind and looked longingly back at the door of the motel room that he and Sam were sharing, but then shook his head and turned around, reminding himself what he had come out here for.

He looked up at the sky, bright green eyes filled with uncertainty, and cleared his throat nervously. "Dear Castiel..." Shook his head. No, that felt wrong, that was stupid. He wasn't writing a freaking letter – he was praying. Well, trying to. Fuck it, he was just gonna talk and hope the angel could hear him, wherever he was.

"Look Cas, I know you're probably busy and all, but I was wondering if you could just come down for a little bit and... um... I dunno, maybe –"

"Dean."

He spun on his heel, unable to suppress the smile that lit up his face at the sound of that low, gravelly voice.

"Hey."

"Hello, Dean." There he was, a few feet away, just like Dean remembered him; thin, muscular frame hidden beneath a tailored suit jacket and, of course, that old trench coat. The light from above the motel room door gave the edges of his silhouette a slight glow.

Rocking on his heels, the hunter cleared his throat again before asking, "You weren't busy or anything, right? 'Cause I mean this isn't important, it can wait, if you have other stuff to do or something."

Castiel tilted his head to the side slightly, as if confused. "You are always important, Dean."

He could see the breath he puffed out as he lowered his head, hoping the darkness would be enough to cover the redness in his cheeks. "Well, I mean, I just wanted to... see you, I guess. I missed you." Dean's gaze flicked upwards to meet bright blue eyes for a quick second before darting away again.

"I missed you too, Dean," Castiel replied evenly, though the words caused the hunter's heart to jump. "I am sorry that I have been away for so long. There were... things I needed to attend to in heaven."

"Yeah, I figured," Dean sighed, kicking at the gravel in the parking lot. "It was just weird without you. Thought we could maybe... hang out."

"At two in the morning? Is this not when you should be resting?" There was that cute little confused-head-tilt thing again.

"I couldn't sleep." He shrugged, then nodded his head toward the Impala, parked behind him. "Wanna go somewhere?"

Castiel nodded, then followed Dean to the car and settled in the passenger seat. She rumbled to life under Dean's touch, and then they were off, gliding out of the motel parking lot and into the night.

"So... how've you been?" Dean asked with a shaky voice, drumming his fingers on the wheel, trying to fill the awkward silence between the two men.

"Fine," came the one word reply. Castiel stared absently out the window.

"Done anything interesting lately? Ya know, up in heaven?" Wow, he sounded like an idiot.

"Not particularly."

They rode along in silence for another few minutes. Dean drove stiffly, wondering why he felt so awkward. He glanced over at the angel a few times, quickly looking away so he wasn't caught staring. Suddenly he noticed the agitated look on Castiel's face. No, not agitated, more... nervous.

"You okay, Cas?" he asked, throwing a concerned glance over at his friend.

"Yes. I'm fine. I just..." He sighed, looking down at the fingers he was twiddling in his lap. "I'm not sure what I'm doing here."

Dean's eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean? I thought you were supposed to help out me and Sam. You know, watch over us or something."

"Things have gotten... more... complicated."

"Okay? Complicated as in...?"

Castiel closed his eyes and seemed to be holding his breath. "It is difficult to explain," he managed to say as he finally exhaled.

Dean sharply turned the wheel, pulling the Impala over onto the side of the road. They were in the middle of a long stretch of highway, the town a few miles behind them. It was pretty dark outside with nothing but cornfields extending endlessly on either side of the road.

"Cas, what's going on?" the hunter demanded, turning so that he was face to face with Castiel. All of the nervousness he had felt before disappeared, replaced by concern. "What's wrong?"

Attempting a dismissal, Castiel waved his hand and muttered, "It is nothing."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Tell me."

Shifting in his seat, Castiel looked down at the floorboard, avoiding eye contact with the other man. Finally he mumbled, "Angels are not made to... become too attached to humans. We are not made to develop relationships. I am unaccustomed to having these kinds of feelings."

"What, you mean you've never had feelings before? That's not a big deal, we could help you figure it out." Dean felt a sudden emptiness in his stomach as realization dawned on him, and he didn't want to think about why. He quickly tried to cover it with a smile. "But wait... you like somebody?" His heart dropped painfully as he said it, but he refused to let his face betray him, putting on his trademark smirk. "Who is she? Don't say that hooker I tried to set you up with, 'cause I hate to break it to ya buddy, but I think you screwed that one up big time."

Castiel looked up at Dean and scoffed, not seeing any humor in the situation. "I do not like anybody. Especially not her." He shuddered at the memory.

"Well then why are you confused, if you don't like anyone?"

"I don't know." His voice dropped again, just barely loud enough to be heard, and he hunched his shoulders up in a sort of shrug.

"Cas," Dean said softly. He moved closer and put his hand on the angel's shoulder, squeezing it gently to get him to relax. The smaller man took a deep, jagged breath, but still avoided looking at him. He moved his fingers to Castiel's chin, bringing his face up so that their eyes locked onto one another, noses just inches apart. Two hearts were racing, though both men tried desperately to hide it, hoping the other couldn't hear the furious beating in their chests. Green eyes stared deeply into blue ones as Dean urged, "Tell me."

Suddenly, the distance between them closed and Castiel's lips were on Dean's. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening, but as Castiel pressed harder against him, Dean found himself relaxing into the kiss. The chapped lips were softer than he expected, and they seemed to mold perfectly against his. His bottom lip shifted so that it was between both of Castiel's, and he suppressed a soft moan. The hand that wasn't already on the other man's shoulder reached for the back of his neck... Then, just as quickly as it started, it was over. The angel had crawled back as far away from Dean as he could get, pressed up against the door of the Impala. He looked like a deer in headlights, breathing heavily, fingers gripping the seat of the car so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. "I didn't... I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry."

It took Dean a moment to collect himself, and he exhaled sharply when he realized that he had been holding his breath. A million thoughts were flying through his head. He couldn't believe what had just happened, couldn't wrap his mind around it, and although he was trying to, the only thing he could think was – I want to do it again.

Castiel swallowed, panicked eyes glued to Dean's face, waiting for a reaction, any kind of reaction. It felt like he waited for hours, unable to move, just trying to remember to breathe. Suddenly, Dean reached forward and grabbed the sleeve of his trench coat. He didn't make any other movement, just held on to the coat, keeping fixed eye contact with the angel. He stayed like that for a few minutes, trying to get his mouth to work, to speak, to say something, say anything.

Finally, his voice came out in a whisper. "Don't be sorry."

Dean licked his lips, catching the slightest taste of the other man, and tugged on his coat, bringing him back to sit more comfortably in the seat. He leaned forward cautiously, slowly, until he could feel Castiel's uneven breath against his face. Their eyes were still locked on one another, until Dean flicked his gaze down to Castiel's mouth, his heartbeat quickening. He took a deep breath and inhaled the familiar scent of sea salt and crisp, clean, mountain air that the angel always seemed to have about him. He leaned in closer until their lips lightly grazed each other, then pulled back just enough to whisper for a second time the only thing he could think to say. "Don't be sorry."

Castiel pressed their lips together, bringing Dean into a kiss for the second time, but this time he didn't pull away. His hands found their way to the back of Dean's neck, and from there they slid upwards and ran through the coarse, dark hair on the back of his head. A quiet moan escaped from Dean's throat when he pulled on his hair to deepen the kiss, sliding his warm tongue into his mouth. Dean opened up eagerly, finding Castiel's tongue with his own, reveling in the softness of the other man. As he tugged Castiel's bottom lip between his teeth, he moaned again, beginning to notice a familiar fluttering in his stomach and a warmth spreading in his lower abdomen.

Dean's hands gripped the lapels of the trench coat, pressing Castiel's broad chest against his own. He slid his fingers down, feeling the strong muscles underneath the layers of clothing, slipping around Castiel's waist and shifting him so that he was practically sitting on Dean's lap. Then he moved underneath his shirt and up his back. When he reached the hollow between his shoulder blades, the angel shuddered, his hands balling into fists in Dean's hair, and gasped loudly. "Oh."

"What is it?" Dean asked, opening his eyes to look at Castiel, who had thrown his head back. He trailed kisses down his jawline, lips brushing against light stubble. Castiel rolled his shoulders back into Dean's calloused hands and pressed harder against the hunter's chest, shuddering as lips moved against the sensitive skin on his neck.

"That feels... so good," he panted, his hands balling into fists of Dean's shirt, pulling him closer.

"What, this?" Dean pressed his fingers into the taut muscles of Castiel's shoulders, massaging the tissue there and eliciting another heady moan.

"Stop," Castiel gasped, "Dean, please."

Dean paused and pulled away from his angel, brow furrowed in worry. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, I... too much," Castiel panted. His eyes were wide with shock and fear. "I don't know how to handle this."

"Do you want to stop?" Dean pulled his hands out from underneath the other man's shirt and rested one on his hip as the other came up to cup his cheek. "We can stop if you want."

"No." A feral growl escaped from the back of Castiel's throat. He lunged forward, connecting their lips again in a kiss much more heated and desperate than the last. His tongue thrust itself into Dean's mouth and clashed with another, battling for dominance. The weight of his body pressed the hunter back until he lost his balance, hands searching wildly for purchase as his back hit the side of the steering wheel, hard.

"Easy tiger," he chuckled, pushing back to get more comfortable – or to press closer to the small frame flush against his, he wasn't sure. "Maybe... we should... motel," he managed between fierce kisses.

Castiel pulled away just a bit, leaving their foreheads touching, both breathing heavily. He nodded and moved off of Dean's lap, settling back into the passenger seat. He stayed close enough for his thigh and shoulder to be up against Dean's as the Impala rumbled to life and pulled a sharp u-turn, flying back in the direction they'd come at record speeds.

Dean didn't dare to look over at the angel, but he couldn't keep the grin off of his face. This wasn't his intention when he called for Castiel – hell, the most he'd hoped for was a couple beers at a bar, a few hours with his friend who'd been MIA for the last six months. It had been hard without him around. Not necessarily the hunting; he and Sam had gotten along just fine, ganking ghosts and demons and the occasional vampire or shapeshifter. But having Cas gone made Dean miss him, and when Dean realized he missed him, he began to realize that what he felt for the angel was a little more than just friendly. He wanted him around all the time – not just during hunts, but when he was making long road trips to places across the country, listening to music and talking with Sam in the car. When he was lounging around in cheap motel rooms drinking beer and watching bad television. When he was laying in the dark at night trying to sleep in beds that were uncomfortable, not because of the stiff mattresses or scratchy sheets, but because they felt empty without someone else there.

And not just anyone else either. Dean was a typical ladies man, picking up chicks easily everywhere he went, and he had his fair share throughout the past six months to keep himself satisfied. Occasionally, he'd even bring a guy back to his motel room, because his senior year of high school had taught him that men can be just as pleasurable as women, if not more so. But getting down with random strangers just didn't cut it; the more time he went without seeing Castiel, the more he pictured the angel's face when inside someone else. The more he dreamed about laying with his angel, waking up almost every morning with some intensely embarrassing morning wood. The more he imagined wrapping himself up in Castiel's strong arms as he drifted off to sleep at night.

Knowing that Castiel returned his feelings – or at least, his lust – made Dean feel lighter than he had felt in years. He felt like he was freaking floating. It was all he could do to keep the Impala from veering off the road as he drove as fast as he could back to the motel.

When he finally, finally pulled into the parking lot, he jumped out of the car and grabbed Castiel's hand, dragging him behind him as he marched up to the front desk, flushed and breathless, demanding another room for the night. The concierge raised his eyebrows, recognizing the hunter from earlier, realizing that he already had a room with his brother, but handed over a new set of keys and added with a knowing smirk, "Enjoy your night, gentlemen."

As soon as the door closed behind them, it was all a flurry of jackets and shoes and lips and hands. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel as fingers wound themselves into his hair and he walked Castiel backwards until the backs of the smaller man's knees bumped the large bed in the middle of the room, and he fell onto it, legs splayed, looking up longingly at the sight before him.

Dean towered over him, lips parted and hair sticking up at odd angles. His cheeks were tinged pink and his eyes raked over the sight in front of him. Castiel admired the hunter's muscled body, emphasized by the gray t-shirt that hugged his curves in all the right ways. He reached out his hand and Dean took it, tumbling on top of the angel and pressing their lips together sloppily. He straddled Castiel's hips and sat him up, tugging his white undershirt up over his head and then running his fingers over his torso, reveling in the smooth skin, marked all over with tiny scars. He allowed Castiel to pull off his own shirt and then leaned down to suck on his neck as curious hands slid up his back and mapped out the muscles beneath his weathered skin. He then laid the angel back down and flipped him over so that he was laying on his stomach.

"So you like this, huh," Dean murmured against the back of his neck as he began to knead between Castiel's shoulder blades.

The angel gasped and writhed beneath him, hands gripping fistfuls of sheets. He moaned loudly, sending a shiver up Dean's spine. "It's... my wings..." he panted, rolling his shoulders into the other man's touch, moaning again.

"Can I see them?" Dean whispered, suddenly sparked by a wave of curiosity and excitement.

"I don't... no human has ever seen... my wings before," Castiel groaned, trying to get out coherent words despite the pleasure racking his entire body.

"Please?"

Castiel should have known that he could never say no to Dean. The hunter pulled back in awe as two giant, feathery wings shimmered into sight. Deep royal blue plumage glistened in the low light of the motel lamp, but they also seemed to emit a light of their own, a soft glow that made Dean's breath hitch in his throat.

"They're beautiful," he murmured, reaching out to stroke the magnificent feathers. They were unimaginably soft, and he let out a sharp breath as he wound his fingers into them.

Castiel shuddered and moaned beneath him. Dean paused in his motions as he took in the sheer size of the angel's wingspan; they stretched across the entire room, wide and full and shining with deep blues and purples. He was shaken from his train of thought as Castiel turned his head to beg him with bright blue eyes. "Don't stop."

Dean dove into the plumage, raking through feathers with sure but gentle fingers, exploring and finding the spots that drove his angel crazy. He started out wide, extending his arms out to either side as far as they could reach, and brought his hands in closer to Castiel's back and shoulders. When he massaged the junction of wing and back, Castiel jerked beneath him, crying out sharply. He kneaded the muscle at the base of the wings and cries became almost screams of pleasure as Castiel's body stiffened and tensed; he shouted Dean's name as he rode the waves of his first orgasm, spilling hot, sticky come into his pants, which he didn't even notice he was still wearing.

Dean kissed the back of his neck as he came down, whimpering and shaking. "Shh," he whispered, hands gently petting the feathers along the edges of his wings. "You're okay. I got you. You're okay."

"Dean," he finally gasped, "what was that?"

The hunter chuckled. "That was amazing."

Castiel sat up and turned around to face the other man. He leaned forward and kissed him passionately, bringing his wings around to encircle them both in a possessive embrace.

Dean moved closer to him, pulling him onto his lap, and Castiel wrapped his legs around his waist. He was suddenly very aware of the stiffness poking him through too-tight denim. "Too much clothing," he muttered, and with a wave of his hand both pairs of pants were gone, and both men sighed as their straining cocks were released. Dean groaned as his hard member slid against Castiel's bare skin and he rocked his hips up to increase the contact and create more friction.

"Cas," he moaned as he threw his head back, "I want you."

"You have me," Castiel murmured against the larger man's neck.

"No, Cas, I want you," Dean said again, moving his hands to grip his ass and thrusting upwards to prove his point.

"Oh," was all the angel could manage. He pulled back and met green eyes with blue, nodding.

Dean gently laid Castiel on his back, climbing on top of him and pressing himself flush against the small frame that fit so neatly with his. Two fingers found their way to Castiel's mouth and he sucked and licked them to slick them up before they were gone and replaced by Dean's lips, hovering just above his own. He caught the hunter's gaze and nodded once more, then felt slight pressure at his entrance. He squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation and Dean whispered a reassurance in his ear that he barely heard as one finger slipped past the tight ring of muscle and inch by inch buried itself into him.

Dean paused, waiting for Castiel to adjust, until he heard a groan and felt the angel rock back into his hand. He started to move inside him, stretching him out before adding another finger, and then another. Castiel gripped Dean's shoulders and dug his fingernails into the tough skin, moaning with a mixture of pain and pleasure. White light suddenly filled his vision as callused fingers found his prostate, all of his muscles tensing up and eliciting a strangled cry. Then, as suddenly as it was there, it was gone, and he whimpered at the emptiness he felt as Dean withdrew his hand from inside of him.

His eyes flew open and instantly caught on Dean's when the head of the larger man's cock pushed into him at an agonizingly slow pace. He groaned and clenched his muscles as he was filled up, and Dean stroked his hair until he relaxed enough for him to push in another inch. When he bottomed out, he paused until he was sure Castiel wasn't in pain.

It was all Dean could do not to thrust his hips violently. He was trembling and practicing restraint he never knew he had. Finally, Castiel rocked up into the hunter, and Dean began to move. Slowly at first, but he picked up speed, unable to hold himself back any longer. Castiel was so tight around him, and he had never felt so completely overwhelmed before. He angled himself so that he knew he would hit the sweet spot; sure enough, Castiel began to cry out at the contact with the tiny bundle of nerves deep inside him.

Dean reached between them and wrapped his hand around Castiel's cock, smearing the precum leaking from the tip with his thumb, evoking a scream from beneath him that he muffled with a kiss. In seconds, Castiel had reached his climax for a second time, and he spilled come onto both of their stomachs as Dean followed closely behind, releasing hot seed deep inside his angel. He collapsed, letting himself rest on Castiel's chest, knowing that he was strong enough to hold the weight. Fingers absentmindedly found feathers and stroked them as the two men came down from their earth-shattering orgasms.

Once Dean's breath evened out, he gently eased himself out of the angel and rolled over so that he was resting on his side, with his head still laying on Castiel's chest, fingers still entwined in soft feathers. His leg was thrown over the smaller man's hips and wings circled around to envelop them both in a warm cocoon. Castiel petted Dean's hair, smoothing out the wild strands that had been tousled in their coupling.

Halfway asleep, Dean murmured softly, "I love you, Cas."

The angel smiled, already lit up with a warm afterglow, and tightened his hold around his hunter. "I love you too, Dean."

Castiel settled down to watch after Dean as he drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Dean woke up without opening his eyes and reached out for Castiel – but came up empty. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, looking frantically around the room. He realized was that he was back in the motel room he shared with his brother; Sam was sitting over on his own bed, flicking through channels on the television.

"Well, good morning, sleeping beauty," the younger Winchester said, glancing over at the disgruntled Dean. "Thought you were never gonna wake up."

"Uh... yeah. I just... tired." He ran a hand through his hair and looked around at the otherwise empty room, obviously disappointed. Maybe it had just been a dream... but Dean knew it wasn't. Cas was just gone. He hadn't stayed with Dean through the night. He regretted what happened, thought that it was a mistake, freaked out and left and –

"Well Cas was here, he offered to go grab some breakfast so I could shower and stuff before you got up 'cause we gotta hit the road early... you okay man?"

Dean's sigh of relief was so big that he fell back onto the pillow and even let a small smile creep onto his face before he realized what he was doing. "Yeah. I'm good."

"Okay..." Sam didn't seem convinced, but he just rolled his eyes and returned to the tv screen. "Anyways, you should get your ass up and moving, 'cause we need to get going pretty soon."

With a grunt, Dean rolled out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. After a quick shower, he dressed and emerged back into the motel room to find Sam sitting at the small table with his laptop a box of donuts. And next to him was Castiel.

Dean flashed a warm smile at the angel, who returned it eagerly. He sat down and started eating with the grin still on his face.

"Are you guys okay?" Sam asked, looking up from his laptop to eye the two skeptically. "You're both like, glowing. You look like you got laid or something." Within seconds his eyebrows shot up and his jaw dropped. "Wait... you didn't... together...?"

Castiel looked away, suddenly very interested in what was going on outside the window, and Dean quickly started shoveling food into his mouth.

"Oh my God," Sam grinned. "Finally."

Dean almost choked. "Waddya mean finnawy?" he stammered through a mouthful of donut.

"Oh come on, I'm not blind. You two have been having the most intense eye sex I've ever seen for as long as I can remember. Don't pretend like this is a surprise to anybody."

Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was still staring pointedly out at the parking lot. "Uh... well... yeah, I guess, um, finally."

Sam clapped him on the shoulder and flashed a wide smile. "Congratulations, dude." He snickered, "To be honest, I knew you'd been overcompensating for something for a while now."

The older Winchester just rolled his eyes and glared. "Go screw yourself."

"Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean smiled to himself as he looked over at Castiel, his angel, who gazed back at him lovingly. He reached out for his hand with an unspoken question in his eyes, and Dean gave a small nod before reaching back to intertwine their fingers. He then looked back at Sam, who smirked and returned to his laptop. Picking up another donut, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly. He could get used to this.