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The lines on the road blurred together as Dean drove to their destination. A town in the middle of nowhere, Iowa, the same as all the rest. Each of them reminded him of the last thousand towns, all reminding him of the home he just came from, the one ripped from him years ago. The only constant in his life was the car and Sammy. But that was until Castiel, Angel of the Lord, pulled him from Hell. Now the thing that lingered the most in his mind and next to him, always making him question everything he thought he knew about the world and himself, was Cas.
The angel sat next to him, fiddling through the box of cassettes that Dean had collected over the years. Dean was debating whether it was a good idea to let Sam stay back at the bunker, acting as their computer guy on the headset. Only in their case, he was the lore guy at the large table in the war room, texting Dean. Without Sam here, it meant that Dean was alone with Cas. Alone with the thoughts that he tried to ignore since the day they met.
He pulled off the highway and into the only place to rest for the night; a bed-and-breakfast in what Dean could only assume was a house that someone converted into it. Letting out a sigh, he turned Baby off and looked over to Cas.
“So, um, this is it, I guess.”
Castiel looked up from the box, examining the large Victorian house. “This isn’t a motel, Dean,” the angel observed.
“No, I know that, Cas. But it’s the only place in town and we might be here for a few days. Plus, Sam already booked us a room, so ain’t really got a choice here.”
Cas looked at the house, then to Dean with that look that made Dean shiver. It was as if the angel was looking through his body and directly into his soul. It left Dean bare in a way he never wanted to be exposed. “Alright. Want me to head in and check in for us?”
“Yeah,” replied Dean, his throat dry.
Castiel didn’t even open the door, just disappeared and reappeared on the front porch of the building. Dean rolled his eyes, knowing the angel was just showing off like he always did. He sat for a moment as he watched Cas hesitate at the front door, unsure if he was supposed to knock or just go right in, given the fact that it was a bed-and-breakfast and not a residence.
Once Cas made his mind up and went inside, Dean got out of the car and headed to the truck. He took a look around, making sure no one was in sight in case there were weapons that hadn’t yet to be put away in the trunk’s false bottom storage. When the coast was clear, Dean opened the trunk, taking out his duffle and the small backpack that he put together for Cas; a way for the angel to blend in a bit more. He waited for Cas to come back out, keys to the room in hand.
“Everything set?” Dean asked, tossing the backpack to Cas, who caught it without missing a beat.
“Yes, we got the only room left that isn’t a suite for couples.”
Dean cleared his throat, nervously. “Yeah, well, we aren’t a couple so…” The words trailing off, hanging heavily in the air.
“I’ve already taken the liberty of checking things out, making sure the room is safe for us. Given the state of your knees, I would assume you are more of a fan of the bottom position. Am I correct in this assumption?”
Dean’s mouth hung open, unable to speak. Every circuit in his brain fried in a matter of seconds. His face reddened as he blushed at the question, which only got worse as he realized what he was doing. Shame and embarrassment flooded in and the instinct to push it aside and hide away the question and the double meaning forever.
Finally able to get some sort of sound out, Dean muttered, “What?”
Oblivious to the double meaning of his question, and Dean short circuiting, Cas narrowed his eyes. Innocent of the question he just asked. “The beds,” he clarified. “The only room left with two beds is one with bunk beds. I figured since your knees aren’t the best, you’d have trouble getting onto the top one.”
“Oh. Yeah, um, sure, whatever. The bottom bunk is fine. Let’s head in.” Dean stated rudely. He didn’t want to even touch what he had initially thought Castiel had meant. Nor did he want to touch the way it made him feel. Pushing down deep, locked in a box that he refused to acknowledge, he slammed the trunk closed and followed Castiel inside.
The room looked like someone’s great grandmother had a field day decorating. The dusty pink wallpaper covered in baby’s breath and forget-me-nots made Dean nauseous. He dropped his bag and looked around. His skin itched at the decor. It was too old lady for his liking. Too clean, everything placed just a bit too precisely to be comforting. Castiel, on the other hand, looked around the room with delight, picking up a small statue of an angel, admiring it fondly.
“Dude,” said Dean.
Cas put down the angel, his eyes shifting to the floor. If he could blush, he would’ve been right now. “It’s a bit much, I admit. But it was the only room available with two beds. The woman downstairs said it’s usually reserved by college students traveling together.”
“Yeah, this room doesn’t scream college students. More like 90-year-old grandmas on a euchre tournament trip.”
“What’s euchre?” Asked the angel, head cocked to the side.
Dean shook his head. “A card game.”
Cas nodded slowly, mouthing an ‘ah’ even though he was just as confused as he had been before. He gave the room another glance over, finding it suitable even if Dean wasn’t too happy with it.
“I don’t wanna sit in here. There was a diner a few miles back. Wanna get some dinner before we call it a night?” Dean asked, changing the subject.
The two found themselves in the diner Dean had mentioned. It was like every other one Dean had been to. The same sounds coming from the kitchen, the same conversations of the locals talking amongst themselves. The waitress was indistinguishable between the thousands of other waitresses at roadside diners. Perpetually tired, going through the motions of taking orders and bringing them out. Service served with a scowl.
Dean ate while Cas sat across from him, his plate untouched. He only got it knowing that Dean would either eat that as well, or take it with him to go. He watched fondly as Dean took another bite of his burger, smiling at the way the ketchup dripped down onto the plate. By now Dean was used to the staring, even if it still made him uncomfortable. But the level of discomfort wasn’t from being watched, it was from the burning in his gut that told him to take that step that lingered between them, closing the distance and ending what their relationship was at this point. Letting it end and bring it into a new era.
But that new era frightened him. Everything would change in a matter of moments, and Dean hated change. He liked the constants, the things that he could predict given how unpredictable his life was. There was also the fear that if he crossed that invisible barrier and it turned out Castiel felt differently, it would destroy them. It would destroy Dean, and without Castiel, Dean was nothing. He would go back to being Dean Winchester, Daddy’s blunt instrument and God’s chew toy. Instead of taking the risk, he kept himself in line. Always going directly to jail, do not pass Go, and definitely not ever taking money from the pot in the middle. He couldn’t risk losing everything to feelings and emotions that riddled him with guilt and fear.
“You okay?” Castiel asked, breaking Dean’s thought process.
“Oh, uh, yeah. You gonna eat that?” Dean asked, knowing the answer already.
Instead of answering, Cas just pushed the plate towards Dean, replacing it with the now empty one. “What do we need to do tomorrow?”
“Go check in with the victim’s family, see if they know anything. Then to the cops, then the coroner’s office. Then off to hunt us a monster. Same as always. Shouldn’t take more than a day, two at tops.”
“And Sam think’s it’s just one werewolf?”
“Yeah, just the one. There’s no evidence of there being any more than that.”
Dean finished the meal Cas ordered, and paid the tab when the waitress set the receipt on the table. After leaving a tip, they headed out, driving in silence back to the bed-and-breakfast. It felt good to finally take off his boots, rotating his ankle, stretching out the kinks from the day. Cas did the same, mirroring his motions. Dean laughed to himself, amused at the angel mimicking him.
“It’s late, dude. I’m gonna hit the hay,” stated Dean. He stood up and stretched before making his way to the bathroom.
When he came back out, he carried his jeans with him, wearing only his boxers and the faded black Journey t-shirt he had been wearing. It was almost grey from years of wear. He noticed Castiel staring at him. His throat ran dry instead of blushing. He cleared his throat, trying to bring back some form of life to his tongue.
“What are you gonna do?” He asked Cas.
Cas looked around the room. There was nothing for him to do while Dean slept. He spotted a few books on one of the dressers. “I’ll find a way to pass the time. You should sleep, Dean.”
Dean grunted a reply and went over to the beds. The bottom bunk was a little too low to the ground for his liking, his knees creaking as he settled down onto it before pulling back the covers and laying down properly in it. He found it amusing that years ago when he was young he would’ve fought Sammy over who got the top bunk, and now here he was taking the bottom even though Cas didn’t sleep and therefore wouldn’t of minded. But his mind lingered back to what the angel said before, the statement that made his brain lose all functions.
Sitting back up, he looked over to where Cas settled in for the night. “Hey, Cas?”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you say I’d prefer the bottom bunk if you don’t sleep? What would it matter?”
“Even though I don’t sleep, it’s nice to lie down sometimes. I find it relaxing. It’s a great way to meditate.”
“Ah, right, yeah.”
Dean didn’t want to think about it too much. It was just one of those weird quirks the angel had. He had found him many times in the bunker sitting in one of the recliners in the tv room, eyes closed. If he didn’t know any better, he would have assumed the angel was sleeping.
He woke up several hours later in the night, needing to use the bathroom. Cas was no longer on the chair and was now on the bed above him. Eyes closed, jaw set firm. Mediating. Dean made sure to walk quietly, even though Cas wasn’t asleep. Old habits formed in old motel rooms with Sam. He snuck back just as quietly after; the bed creaking as laid back down. Above him, Cas let out a harsh huff of air.
“You good up there?” Dean asked in a hard whisper.
“I’m fine, Dean. Go to sleep.”
“Whatever. Night.”
“Night.”
Unable to fall back asleep, he let go of the rules and barriers in his mind and let it wander. It kept going back over and over to what Castiel said earlier in the day. Dean wondered if he knew what he was implying by saying that Dean probably preferred the bottom position. He wondered what Cas preferred himself. Not wanting to go there, he pushed the thoughts aside, but his cock ignored him, thickening against his thigh.
He pressed his palm against it, sucking in a gasp at the sensation. Forgetting for a moment that Castiel was still above him and very much awake. In that moment, his mind conjured up the image of the angel’s lips and the oceans of his eyes. The slight friction of palm against shaft, only separated by a thin layer of fabric, was enough to make Dean’s hips buck upwards.
He remembered Cas above him and quickly removed his hand. Already out of breath at the fleeting sensation. He tried to coax his erection down, but it stayed, waiting for another glimpse of release. A shifting above him rattled the bunk bed, letting Dean know yet again that he wasn’t alone. He laid there, eyes wide and staring up for several moments. Trying not to breathe too loudly, panic coursing through his veins.
“Dean?”
“Yeah,” Dean croaked out. Praying that his current situation wasn’t noticeable in his voice.
“Do my eyes really remind you of oceans?”
Panic set in officially as Dean stared up, unable to speak. It was easy to forget that Cas was something other and could listen in on the thoughts of those around him. An invasion of Dean’s privacy that he wasn’t too fond of, especially thoughts like that. He wondered if Cas knew what action conjured the thoughts.
“Yours reminds me of fields of grass in the breeze.”
“Okay,” replied Dean, throat dry.
“I think of them at night, too.”
The statement was innocent enough, but the implication of them was enough to make Dean’s already short-circuited brain go past the point of no turn. His cock stiffened, more so, rubbing against the fabric of his boxers. He wondered if Cas meant he thought of Dean at night. A hand pressed against his cock, begging for friction and release. Dean reminded himself that not only was Castiel able to hear his thoughts, but also admitted to doing so just now. He shook his head like an etch-a-sketch, erasing the thoughts from his mind.
“Yes,” replied Cas to the unspoken question, answering Dean’s thought.
Dean let out a breath, almost panting at the tension in the air. His heart felt as though it would give out at a moment’s notice. Cas had answered his thoughts and confirmed the fantasy he didn’t plan on having for himself. Testing it once again, he let a new thought wander into his mind and call it home. Does Castiel want Dean in the same way that Dean won’t allow himself to admit?
“Yes,” the angel said above him.
Dean could hear the subtle quake of his voice, the panicked nervousness within the single syllable word. The implications of stepping past the barrier and into a new era hung heavy in the air. Both men laid on their beds, eyes wide and staring upwards, waiting for one of them to say something else.
Castiel felt the same.
Before Dean could exhale his next breath, the bed above moved and bare legs hung over, dangling in the air. He sucked in the air, holding it there as he looked at the legs. Castiel’s legs. The light from the streetlight just outside the window shone on them, making each hair just slightly visible in its yellow glow. Dean wondered what the angel’s calf felt like. Was his thighs soft as his lips or as hard as his jaw?
“Dean, we should talk about this?”
Dean let out a soft groan. Talking about it was not something he ever planned on doing. But now here it was, out in the open, or at least partially. They could always leave in, hanging in the air like the pair of legs his eyes were glued to. But he knew Castiel wouldn’t give up. They were going to talk about this.
“What’s there to talk about, Cas?”
“Us.”
The word was pointed and direct. Castiel wasn’t talking about them as friends, hunting partners, brothers-in-arms. He meant it as a couple, lovers. Words unspoken since that day in Illinois, feelings that Dean never got to experience even if he wanted to. Even if he didn’t want to, for the fear of losing everything he knew about himself. Every lie he created to make the thoughts about the angel disappear, but they never did. Always there, always making a home for themselves in the back of his mind.
Fuck it, Dean thought. Fuck every wall built up, every fleeting thought he ever had. Fuck everything Dean made himself believe about himself. The dawn of a new era between them was waiting for him to simply take it. If Cas felt the same as he implied, then that meant he wouldn’t lose him. He would only lose the relationship that they had now, and that meant that the new one would be stronger, better than the last. The only issue that remained was the issue of death. A hunter’s life wasn’t one that had room for relationships and love. But for a Winchester, death was just a part of life, something that popped up every once in a while only for the rules of nature to be ignored.
Taking in a breath, Dean let go. “What if we… said it… out loud?” He prayed the angel knew what he meant by his question.
“It wouldn’t change anything, Dean.”
His heart sank at the words. He should have known better. Just because they both felt the same didn’t mean they would ever become something more than what they are right now.
“We would still be the same people. The only difference is that we would be together,” Cas clarified.
Dean didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he let it out harshly. “What do we do now?”
“Say it.”
“I want you,” was the only thing Dean could think of to say. To say more, to say that he loved Castiel, still brought the same fear as it always had. It was still locked away, not ready to be released to the wilds of his heart.
Castiel didn’t reply, instead he dropped down onto the floor and faced Dean. Even in the dark, he could see the intensity of those blue eyes as he stared right through Dean’s soul.
“I want you, too.”
Without a moment’s notice, the angel was on his bed, dangerously close to fully crossing the barrier. In the harsh yellow light, Dean would just make out the outline of Cas’ swollen cock in his boxers. He wondered when the angel stripped down in the night, and why do so if he didn’t sleep.
“It’s more comfortable,” Cas answered the thought.
“Stop listening in on my head.”
“Stop thinking about me so loudly. You’re praying and you don’t even realize it. You do that often.”
Castiel crept up the bed, shoving the thin blanket aside. His thighs rubbed against Dean’s and Dean felt the heaviness between them on him. Dean drew in a breath, hips bucking upward, begging to feel Cas’ cock on his own. Cas was above him, staring down at Dean, eyes intense with desire. He leaned forward, going fully past the barrier and walls and pressed chapped lips against Dean’s.
Electricity ran through Dean’s mind as his brain shut down one last time, only to be rebooted as he parted his lips, letting the angel deepen the kiss. Heavy with desire and a fire that roared to life deep within the bowels of Dean’s soul. His hands moved on their own, coming to rest on the small of Castiel’s back, pulling him down as his hips moved up. Their cocks lined against each other, perfectly fitted between the friction of thigh and fabric.
Dean gasped at the feeling. His heart racing as the kiss turned into rough movements of need. Panted breaths and rough hands moved across bare thighs and forearms. Cas moved away from his mouth, working his way down his neck. Licking and biting at the skin, his stubble rubbing against Dean making him shiver at the sensation. All the while, they moved in unison, cocks rubbing against each other, begging to be freed of their boxers.
“Cas,” whispered Dean.
It was a prayer for the angel’s ears. Begging for more and the need to finish what they started. Cas leaned up as much as he could in the confined space, pulling his white undershirt off, exposing his bare chest. Dean did the same, his chest rising and falling as he fixed his eyes on one spot on Castiel’s chest.
Expertly, Cas leaned back down, going back to his neck before moving down. Wetness circled his nipple as Cas swirled around it with his tongue, coaxing it to life before gently tugging at it with his teeth. The angel’s hands traced along his rib cage, down his sides and across the fabric of his boxers before dipping fingers beneath the elastic band. He pulled them down and Dean felt the cool air against his cock as it was freed from its confines.
Castiel’s lips and tongue traced down his stomach, kissing and biting at the curves and dips. He made his way down towards the heaviness between Dean’s legs, touching every spot except the one place Dean desired the most. Tongue and lips outlined the barrier of cock and thigh before finally settling on Dean’s cock, causing Dean to gasp.
This was it. There was no going back now, Dean thought. Cas licked up the base of his cock, sending shivers down his spine as his mouth hung open in a silent, praying moan. Stealing a glance down, his eyes locked onto Castiel’s, staring back up at him as Cas took him into his mouth deeper. It was warm there, as the angel’s tongue moved precisely underneath and hollowed cheeked suck in. Unable to take his eyes off, Dean watched as he filled Cas’ mouth with his cock. The angel took him down to the base with little effort before pulling back up, making swallowing motions with this throat and tongue as he did.
Dean’s hip thrust up, begging to stay within the warmth of the angel’s mouth as Cas pulled back. His tongue swirled around the head, precum painting his tongue. Large hands held onto firm thighs and nails dug into the skin at the curve of them. The angel went back down to the base, repeating the rhythm and motions until Dean’s eyes wanted to shut tight as his jaw was set firm. But he didn’t dare close them, fearful this was all a dream. He didn’t want to lose this memory, didn’t want to forget the look in Castiel’s eyes.
Dean’s thighs began to shake as his orgasm built up and up until it hit its crescendo. Cas worked faster, beckoning the orgasm out of Dean. Dean let out a gasping moan as he filled the angel’s mouth with his come. Dean’s hands gripped the sheets, threatening to pull them as his mouth hung open, bottom lip shaking. Finally, Castiel pulled off, every last drop of come perfectly swallowed. Swollen, wet lips found their way back to Dean’s body, retracing their way back up to his lips. Dean wasn’t sure when Cas took his boxers off, but now he felt bare skin against bare skin.
“You were right,” said Dean. “I do prefer being a bottom.”
“I assumed that’s why you took the bottom bunk, Dean.” Cas replied, pulling back from the spot on Dean’s neck he had been working with his lips.
Dean let out a small, breathy laugh. “No, dude, I mean I’m a bottom.”
“Oh,” replied Cas, eyes burning a hole into Dean.
“In the bottom of my duffle there’s a small bottle. Go get it.”
Dean hated the feeling of Cas leaving him. The small bed felt huge and empty. But it was filled again seconds later. Bottle in hand, Cas fixed himself between Dean’s thighs. He read the label and put two and two together on what to do with it.
“You sure about this, Dean?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah. More than anything.” The last part wasn’t an answer to any question said out loud, but he didn’t need to hear the angel’s thoughts to know what he was thinking.
Castiel flicked open the lid and poured the lube onto his fingers before leaning back down to kiss Dean once more. Dean’s hips adjusted, legs parted, allowing the angel more room. All thoughts were cut off as he felt the slick pad of Cas’ finger on his entrance, rubbing small circles around the rim. Coaxing him open until the angel’s finger slipped right in, never losing the rhythm of motion. Slow and steady, leaving Dean wanting more. All the while Castiel’s tongue danced in his mouth, wet and battling against his own. Dean’s hands ran down his spine, nails dragging against skin.
One finger turned into two and then into three. Stretching him open with the slight burn that disappeared as soon as it came. Dean wanted more, he needed more. He needed to feel the angel inside of him. Filling him up, stretching him out. Cas wrapped his other hand around Dean’s cock, bringing it back to life, slowly working it up and down.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” Dean answered, moaning and gasping at the sensation of being stretched open. “Please, Cas.”
Fingers slipped out of his hole, leaving him empty and wanting more. The sound of the cap flicking open again and the other hand leaving his cock made Dean realize Cas was lubing his cock up. He looked down and got his first proper look at the angel’s cock. It was thick and heavenly in Castiel’s hand as he stroked it up and down, squeezing gently at the head.
“You sure you want to do this?” Cas asked.
“Yeah.”
Cas needed no other sign to continue as he lined his cock up with Dean’s entrance that was more than ready for him. Hands gripped the sheets as Castiel pushed inwards slowly. Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut as he pushed in deeper and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. Flesh again flesh, hot and covered in sweat. Hands grasping for skin to grip tightly as the angel slowly pulled back out, just to the head of his cock before deliberately pushing back in, taking his time, slowly.
Dean wanted more. He needed more. Needed to be filled and stretched out. Cas heard his prayers of desire and pulled back out, only to slam back in, making Dean’s vision vibrate and blur for the moment before coming back into focus. Over and over again, finding the perfect rhythm as their bodies moved in unison with one another. Cas expertly thrusted, working his hips as Dean lifted his own, moving with the angel.
“Dean.” A rough prayer, an invocation of divinity spoken from the lips of celestial intent. Castiel made his name sound holy and divine, yet the greatest sin to have ever been whispered. Meant to be held safe within the angel’s grace.
Time passed by slowly and yet all at once as Heaven and Earth collided against each other as angel and human intertwined in the dark room. Dean held on tightly to Castiel, lifting his hips just enough for Cas to hit the spot inside that drags him closer to the edge. Their lips crashing into each other’s rough and wet and needy. So desperately needy.
Dean’s eyes shut tight as he let out gasps as he felt his orgasm climb and climb. Castiel took notice and thrust harder, faster, feeling his own climax build up. He broke away from the kiss and placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Holding onto the place he gripped tightly when he raised Dean from perdition. Dean felt something inside latch onto that spot and felt the electrical sensation and coolness of grace seep out from Castiel’s hand and into his soul. Drenched in sweat and fire, Dean felt his body explode and expand like a universe bursting into existence within him.
“Cas!”
Castiel clenched his jaw tightly as his eyes flickered, glowing white and blue, his angelic nature overpowering him. Dean saw glimpses of shadows of wings cast on the underside of the top bunk and on the walls. Castiel came with a grunting moan, filling Dean up, seeping out with each deliberate thrust. Dean spilled out onto his own stomach and chest, lips parted and swollen from the kiss. Finally, Castiel slowed, pumping in a few more times before slipping out and collapsing onto Dean’s chest.
The angel wasn’t out of breath while Dean panted in the afterglow. His chest rising and falling, heart beating steady but fast. They stayed like that for a while before Castiel peeled himself off of Dean’s skin, sticky and hot with sweat. He got up off the bed, leaving Dean cold and empty.
“Where you going?” Dean asked, fear settling back in.
“You need to sleep. We need to be up in a few hours.”
“Lay with me.”
It was a simple request, one that Castiel obliged. Dean moved over as much as he could on the small mattress, definitely not big enough for the two of them. He rolled over onto this side, opening his arms up for the angel to lie down before wrapping them around him. They kissed once more, this time gentler, yet still filled with fire.
“So what now?”
Castiel thought for a moment before he replied. “Now, you go back to sleep. Tomorrow we get to work. Then we go back to the bunker.”
“No, I mean about us. What are we?”
“What do you want to be, Dean?”
“Together.”
“Then we are together.”
“You realize what I mean, right? Together together.”
“If you mean we will become a couple, then yes. Together.”
A smile crept across Dean’s face as he placed a kiss on Castiel’s forehead. “Is that what you want?”
“I want that very much, Dean. I’ve wanted it since the moment I saw your soul in Hell.”
“Good. I want that too.”
Dean fell asleep, wrapped in the warmth of the angel’s embrace. No longer fearful of crossing the barrier. It was in the distance behind him, soon to be forgotten. The words left unsaid would have to break down more walls to be released, but that was okay for now. They skipped several steps and went right past Go, collecting the pot in the middle along the way. Breaking the rules on what the relationship between angel and human should be, and the rules that Dean created for himself. It felt freeing to break them, and to lie next to Castiel. Naked and exposed, and so very much at peace.