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Castiel woke up to the hammering sound of his own heart beating. Instinctively, he grabbed for his chest and jumped at the feeling of his own pulse beneath his fingertips.
Sure, he had bled before, but those had only been a side effect of this reality. He wasn't supposed to need human organs. Suddenly he felt his mouth fall slack and gasp for air. In his surprise he had forgotten to keep breathing the aching breaths of a wounded man. Man.
In that moment the tragedy of his failure hit him in the furthest reaches of his newly downgraded form. Metatron. His grace. The angels falling. It all felt like a nightmare too terrible to be true. His failure felt like the epitome of all he had hated. Weakness. Arrogance. Terror. Betrayal. He leaned his head back against the nearest tree in the forest he had landed in. He had literally broken his universe. He had been handed the highest stakes of his infinite life and had lost them utterly and completely.
In shock he felt his first sob escape his body like a flooded dam. There was so much pain involved. Had it always been this way for humans? Sadness had always been an emotion to him - an abstract idea which he sympathized with but could never understand fully. Now, he felt himself grasping at his chest to claw out the spreading burn of hurt within him. Self pity could not describe the depths of his despair in that moment. And in this sadness his appreciation of the human ability to move forward welled inside him. His thoughts turned to the home they were never far from, and the green eyes of his friend appeared before him.
Dean, who had known so much pain, whose eyes had betrayed so much sorrow in the few years since he'd first raised him from hell. Dean, who never faltered under the weight of his own responsibilities. Dean, who loved so unceasingly in the face of his brother's betrayal, Cas's betrayal and the tumult of the years before and after The Apocolypse. For that man, he could wipe his eyes and stand. For him, he would leave this spot in the forest.
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Two months later:
Cass tapped his head against the clear glass of the telephone booth he'd stumbled upon after he ran for what felt like ages. Though he didn't tire with angel grace inside him again, the movement across the earth felt tedious without his wings. He only wanted to make one call. He desparately needed to tell his human about Ezekiel. But Cas's own human emotions, anger, hurt, confusion clouded his mission.
Dean had come to him only once since kicking him out of the bunker. And that had been for a case. A case where he had felt almost as much sorrow and despair as when he first woke up as a human.
He had told Dean how much he had wanted to be with him when they first rescued him from the reaper. He had seen the deep wells of gratitude in Dean's eyes upon his resurrection. His body warmed with the thought of Dean's rare smile spreading across his taut, tan face. He had wanted to hug him, a new urge probably left over from his first bout of sex. But even though he was new to being human, he knew enough about the hunter to know hugs weren't really his thing. Instead, he stared at him in peace, noticing for the first time how long he and Dean held eye contact compared to the other humans he had crossed. He wondered if that meant something.
Yet his friend had left him again as Steve the sales associate as soon as their last case came to a close. The same familiar ache grew back in his chest as he remembered the Impala driving away in this secluded booth now. It was just a phone call. One phone call to the human he had talked to the most in his long life. The man whom he had learned free will and true love from. He picked up the phone, drew in what he had come to know as a cleansing breath, and dialed the number.
----
Cas had told Dean it was better to stay away, but as Dean watched Kevin's funeral pyre burn down, he ached for his angel. He knew that Cas now had his grace back, and yet that wasn't the reason he felt his absence as strongly as he felt Sam's. Knowing that an unknown angel had been inside Sam all along made him grieve for Cas in the months since his fall. How could he have cast him away? Cas, he had always been there. He had literally put him back together molecule by molecule. And yet, in his most desparate time of need Dean had let the conniving tactics of a double-crossing asshat wipe all of that off the board.
He pictured the hurt in Cas's eyes when he had let the most painful words scratch their way out of his mouth. "You can't stay." He had always felt so tethered to Cas, enough to make him feel uneasy in the angel's presence at times. As the realization of Dean's denial made its way across Cas' then-human face, the burly hunter felt the same tether pulling him into the abyss that was the blue of Cas's gaze. He was confused, in pain, and so very much the same as the Cas he had always been. Dean had to tear his eyes away before he lost his nerve. This was for Sam. For Sam.
Now, in the middle of the smokey night his hands trembled as he dialed Cas' number. He would have to come clean. Have to admit his failure. Have to admit that he had chosen a lie over his best friend.
"Hello?"
"Cas, I need you."
"Are you okay?"
"Can you just come?"
"I'm on my way."
Dean rubbed his calloused hands at his aching temples. Of course he would come. Dean knew in his heart that despite his failures in the past, Cas would be the most faithful force of his life. Maybe especially because of his failures, but either way - Cas loved Dean. Like Dean loved Sam of course. Right? He shook his head from the intrusive thought. Of course it was just like that. They were family. Family, that's all.
But when Cas walked in a few hours later, dressed in his normal suit minus a tie, the thought from earlier struck a chord again. The thought that had crossed his mind a hundred times before - Cas is beautiful. His eyes were heavy with worry, and the way his name poured like butter from those angellic lips made Dean weak in a way he only ever knew with the man before him. How could he tell him the truth? How could he risk losing him for real this time?
-----
Cas watched the pain that tortured Dean's face as the truth about Sam, about his own banishment from the bunker came out in painful bursts from the flanneled man before him. He recognized the emotion that constantly followed Dean. He had been drowning in it not so long ago. Self loathing. In Dean's words he heard all of the same reasons he'd fallen prey to his own mistakes. A desire to fix everyone. A need to be in control. A misplaced burden for the fate of the world around him. He didn't even notice he had been longing for closeness until his hand came up to the table and covered Dean's. He felt panic well up inside him as he waited for Dean to pull away, to make some comment about not being gay or personal space.
But whether it was obligation or guilt or a mixture of both, Dean's hand didn't move. In fact, Cas was the one taken aback when Dean's thumb began stroking the top of his own pale hand. The feeling was as powerful as any he had experienced as a human. Even the very intimate moments he'd shared with the reaper April didn't compare. Everywhere Dean's skin traced his own he felt the bursting of small sparks.
He listened with half his mind as his righteous man finished his confession, but could barely pull himself together as he melted at Dean's touch. He heard the words he had said so many times as an angel ring true through his body. "Profound bond." But that fell short now, as he felt for the first time what it was to touch Dean. As he had carried Dean's broken soul from the depths of hell, he had known what utter goodness felt like in his arms. At the time that goodness had been captivating, but only from a curiosity standpoint. He had quite literally never seen another human soul so tarnished that still managed to shine so brightly.
Even when he had remade Dean's body cell by cell, he could not have known the full power of being able to feel the being inside of him come to life in his arms. In that moment, he knew that the human power to love was in the power to feel both the bigness of the soul and the softness of the body in a caress as simple as holding hands.
"I'm just so sorry Cas." Dean repeated, making Cas break from his reverie. He stared into the large round eyes of the man in front of him but couldn't form the right words to capture his revelation. How, after so many millions of years of existence, and so much history between two people, could one say simply, I never knew love until I knew you?
Dean rose from his chair, misinterpreting Cas' silence as condemnation. His greatest fears were coming alive before him. He had made the last wrong choice he would make for he and his angel. As Dean tried to pull his hand away, Cas greedily held fast and drew his attention back from his sorrow.
"Dean." The name felt so much like praise now that he feared he would choke on its lightness. "Dean."
Dean held Cas' hand tightly but couldn't understand what the angel meant by it. But beneath those knitted eyebrows, Cas saw something that made the deepest recesses of his body roar to life: hope.
"Dean, do you love me?" He asked, cursing himself for the weakness the question betrayed. He hadn't wanted to leave room for doubt. Wasn't that just confirming more of the same? More of the weakness that had hurt Dean so badly in the past?
"Cas, what?" Dean pulled his hand away then, backing toward the lined shelves in the library. But the words didn't match the small tick in his mouth that had started a smile before Dean's overactive brain kicked back into gear. And Cas knew that in this moment he had the upper hand. Dean was the one who had hurt him this time. And for once, the savior of the world wouldn't get to hide behind his perfection. He wouldn't get to hide behind his masculine heroism.
"Dean, do you love me?" Cas repeated and began to close the gap between them.
"Cas, where is this coming from?" He was quite literally stuck with his back against the wall, and he couldn't escape the piercing blue gaze of the man who knew him more than anyone in the world. Knew him even more than his missing brother. Cas refused to move, refused to clarify the question that Dean knew the answer to the second it had arrived in the room. "Cas, I would do anything for you. I can't believe I left you alone out there. I won't ever forgive myself for that."
Cas could see the conflict racing through Dean's mind as the light behind his deep green gaze shone the struggle of his conflicted soul. He could hear the arguments that would tick off one by one. I like women. I'm not the loving type. We are best friends. Now isn't the time.
But Cas held onto his stare, answering every objection before it could even be brought up. Now that he had connected the pieces, he knew he had stumbled onto an eternal truth brought together since the beginning of time. He had been made to bring Dean from the depths of depravity, to raise him from perdition, to protect him from himself and from the world.
He had been made to love Dean Winchester.
"Dean, do you love me?" He leaned in closer, one hand climbing onto the shelf behind the sandy blonde hair of his best friend. His lips lingered within inches of the pink softness of Dean's lips. He felt a familiar stirring as his cock began to swell with the intensity of their closeness. He suddenly felt grateful he had changed from jeans when his grace came back. He suddenly felt glad for his time as a human, for the stirrings his vessel had taught him in his months as a human. Dean breathed deeply into the space between them, his eyes wraught with longing and lust. Cas knew the answer to the question but refused to let him get away with another moment of denying his feelings. A softening was occuring in the hunter's worried features. So when he finally felt Dean closing the gap between them he pulled away with a smirk on his face.
"Not yet, Dean." He feigned sternness and put his other hand against the wall, hemming the two of them into their own private corner of the world. "I asked you a question."
Dean's eyes darted helplessly between Cas's eyes and his lips as every doubt began to melt away in the wake of this moment. He swallowed one last time as the words came out in a slow breath. "Yes, Cas. I love you."
With that, Cas hungrily pushed himself against Dean, feeling the intensity of sparks as their lips met for the first time. Their was no chastity to the kiss that broke out. The two conformed to each other with the same chaotic force that had brought them together. Cas let out a small groan when he felt Dean's cock pushing stiffly against the tent in his own pants. His hands came down to wrap around Dean's chiseled back and wander along the curve of his spine. He swooned as Dean's hands wandered down to grasp his ass tightly and rub their hips ever closer. The motion felt desparate, filled with the agony of wanting to merge into the oneness of their souls.
Dean let out a growl as he threw off Cas's coat and slammed the angel back against the sturdy wood of the library tables. Cas bent into the shape of Dean as he pulled every part of their body into a perfect curve. His groin began to ache with the contact as their tongues danced in each other's warm mouths. Cas pushed even further in, the kisses becoming so rough that the two rows of white teeth began to clash against each other. Dean whimpered and threw his neck back to the greedly delight of Cas, who began to nibble and kiss along the stubble on Dean's jawline and the skin he could get to with his flannel still on.
"Cas, God-" another whimper, "I missed you so much." Cas stopped his lips for a moment to grab at the back of Dean's neck and pull all of his attention to their locked eyes.
"Dean, I missed you more than you know." He placed a deep kiss on Dean's waiting lips, "And in case you didn't know. I love you, too."
"Bedroom. Now." Dean demanded against the curve of Cas's lips. Cas cursed his missing wings and the few seconds it would take for them to get back to Dean's dorm. He reluctantly peeled himself away from the mold of Dean's body, suggestively rubbing his palm against the bulge in Dean's jeans as he did so. Dean looked as if he might faint from the rush of pleasure. Then he raised his arm to point in the direction of his bedroom, his face the mask of authority.
Though the trip was only a few hundred feet, neither of the men could stand for their lips to be apart that long. The walk was a tangle of limbs and hips and pushing each other up against the wall to grind their aching groins together. By the time they reached Dean's spotless room, the race to feel each other's skin was drenched with need. Their clothes fell in puddles around them onto the floor.
-----
Dean couldn't believe the absolute depths of pleasure he felt as the lips of his angel roamed across his body. The pent up lust and longing made them much to needy to spend much time on the slow kisses of foreplay, but as Cas slammed him against the mattress they each managed to get quick nips and licks of the other's nipples and shoulders and whatever else came into contact. As soon as their stiff rods aligned with each other, Dean thought he may come on the spot. The intensity of passion he felt for the man cacooning him against his toned body threatened to rip him to shreds. Cas wrapped a strong hand around them both as he balance himself above Dean. The lust of Cas's grip and the hardness of his cock made him feel out of his mind as he watched the thick muscles of the angel's bicep hold him in place. He had drastically underestimated the absolute jaw-dropping hotness of the body hidden beneath Cas's ever-present suit.
"Cas, I'm not going to make it much longer." He grunted as he bathed in the sensation of Cas' tongue against his earlobe and the rush of blood that filled his entire body as Cas' thick cockhead brushed against his stomach. As Cas pulled slightly away, he saw that he wasn't the only one on the brim. Precum leaked out of his own slit as he felt Cas begin to give way. As he watched the fireworks of orgasm begin to flush the sculpted face of the angel above him, he lost all semblence of control. The feeling of his body erupting felt like white hot tendrils of joy in every fiber of his being. He heard himself yell out Cas's name as his own name echoed off the concrete walls.
As the slick mess of sex smeared itself against them both, Cas peppered Dean's stunned face with gentle kisses. Dean realized he had never known a peace like the peace he felt in this moment. For a moment he didn't care about anything else but the body of light he had tucked in his arms. He wound his hand through Cas' thick mop of brown hair to pull his lips in for a kiss that resonated to the tips of his toes.
Cas erupted in a smile that made Dean's chest ache with the discomfort of unbound happiness. He wished for a moment that he had only stepped out of his own way sooner, but was too caught up in the feeling of Cas's marble skin to think of much else. Cas rolled over to his side of the bed and pulled his lover against his chest. Dean felt himself melt into his embrace as Cas planted a firm kiss to his damp forehead.
"Cas." He murmured, the name coming out like a contented purr.
"Dean." The reply vibrated with the same depths.
Dean wanted to bask in this moment for the rest of his time on this messed up planet, but realized he hadn't slept more than a couple of hours since Sam had first been possessed. The feeling of drifting barrelled into the spark of Cas's closeness. "Cas, I can't stay awake."
Cas smiled at the barely intelligible mumble from the man gone heavy in his arms. "Then sleep, my righteous man. I'll be here when you wake."