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"Fuck you Cas," Dean swore through clenched teeth. "You get your ass down here right now, you hear me?"
He wondered if he could stand to be in the same room with the angel. Then again, he wouldn't have lied to Sam about where he was going then run off to get another motel room if he was having any kind of doubts about this. Dean knew what he wanted. He just didn't want his brother anywhere around when he asked for it. Sam was intuitive though. That and the fact that he constantly claimed to know Dean better than he knew himself. Which--to an extent-- he did. But the elder Winchester would have to be tied to a chair and beaten to admit it. Dean may not have been as "intellectual" as his baby brother but he was no fool. He made sure that there wasn't a sliver of a possibility that Sam had followed him. He turned off the GPS in his phone. Took random detours during the drive. Parked in a parking lot down the block. Even paid for the room in cash. It was just one night. But Dean couldn't risk Sam knowing he was here. Knowing what he was going to do. Knowing what he was going to ask for. All he thought about was that damn angel. And what he did. And how he made him feel. Dean wanted so badly to hate Cas for what he did. But he didn't. It didn't feel right. Nothing felt right anymore. He didn't feel right anymore.
Dean suddenly got that feeling that he wasn't alone. His hunter instinct kicked in and he grabbed his pistol, turning around in one swift movement to face none other than...
Cas.
Neither Dean nor the angel spoke, just stared at each other. Dean didn't even put his gun down. A part of him wanted to shoot Cas. He was just that angry.
Castiel sensed Dean's anger, saw it in his jade eyes that threatened to pierce him by the way that he glared.
"What? No creepy ass greeting?" Dean finally broke the silence, venom littering his tone. Castiel didn't offer a response. This only angered Dean more.
"You haven't been answering me when I call," Dean faltered in maintaining the sturdiness in his voice. He couldn't let the angel know that he wanted this. In all honesty, Dean liked to think that he didn't. His mind knew what was right and it told him that this wasn't. But his mind was weak.
Castiel analyzed Dean, looked the man up and down, not speaking. And he wasn't sure if it was because he chose not to talk or if he genuinely didn't know what to say.
"Talk you bastard!" Dean yelled in fury.
"You know where my obligations are, Dean." Castiel alternated between making eye contact and staring far off at something else.
"Fuck you and you little angel fight upstairs." The hunter spat.
Something inside Castiel snapped. Something that hadn't been triggered since they first met. But the angel remained calm. There was no point in making Dean any angrier than he already was.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk to me like that." was all Cas could say. He didn't even mean it. He liked it when Dean was angry. The way Dean's jaw clenched. The way his eyes went from that calm, mystifying green to a piercing jade. Castiel didn't want the mortal any less than he did when he invaded his dreams a week ago. Although, he'd gained better self-control since it happened. And the only way to enforce that was by staying away from Dean. It wasn't easy in the least. The Winchesters prayed for him several times everyday in the past week and Cas found it mentally draining having them tug at his conscience while resisting their calls. He didn't even know why he chose to appear this time. It was the need to see Dean again, he guessed. No. He knew that's what it was.
The man and the angel stood in tense silence, both wanting to address the elephant in the room, but neither willing to go down that road.
"Dean..." Castiel spoke, struggling to maintain balance in his deep voice. "We know what you called me here for. I can sense that its...difficult for you to talk about it. I'd rather not address it myself honestly."
"Then don't." The hunter's tone was as gruff as usual, dismissive. As if what he said was the final word in the matter.
"You're the one who called me here, Dean."
"Oh no you don't," Dean fixed another glare on the angel, stepping closer and putting a finger to his chest. "Don't you dare talk to me like I caused all of this. You know damn well what you did and why I called you here!"
Cas tilted his head. "You want closure."
"Screw you Cas. I'm not some teenage girl."
"I apologize for what I did," Castiel attempted to inflect some kind of sincerity into his otherwise stoic tone.
"Don't apologize to me. You don't mean it. You don't know how to mean it." Dean sat on the edge of the bed, bitterly confused and drained. Too drained to even deal with Cas. He contemplated leaving. Just getting up, walking through that door and driving back. But, as angry-- as tepidly furious--that he wanted to be at Cas, he just couldn't. Even as the angel stood there, eyeing him with those serious yet emotionless blue eyes, Dean Winchester was utterly, emotionally helpless.
Castiel really did feel remorse for what he did to Dean. But he hadn't felt the need to apologize for it. He'd been in this body for so long. It had needs. Needs that demanded to be satisfied. However seeing Dean like this, sensing his current mental state, the angel did something foolish, something crazy, something that the moment surely didn't call for.
He threw himself forward, leaning his head down and lifting Dean's upward, meeting the man's lips. He felt the mortal experience many different reactions at once. The initial resistance. A shudder that travelled down his spine and throughout his body. And the relaxation. The acceptance that showed he wanted this just as much as Castiel did. Maybe more.
Dean gave in, returned the kiss with the ferocity of an animal in heat. Castiel felt the need all over him, felt it in the way Dean's fingers grasped at his hair, his neck, his trench coat. Anything to pull him closer and to get more of him. Something about Dean changed in these situations. Cas could feel his vulnerability. He momentarily pulled away from the man, still savoring the taste of his mouth. Dean looked up at him with that face, beautiful yet broken and hot with lust, anger, and confusion. His eyes begged Cas to let the mortal have him. The hunger in his eyes ripped through Castiel, triggered him to give this man what he needed.
Trench coat on the floor, he returned to Dean. The man grasped him, switching positions and slamming Castiel into the bed. Dean hovered over him, hands firmly planted on either side of his head and they both stared at each other, both minds racing with a mess of questions, thoughts, and emotions. Castiel laid a hand on the back of Dean's neck, bringing his face closer his. The angel put his lips to Dean's ear, whispering.
"Don't think. Don't question." His voice was as deep as usual, but the sexual tension that plagued it made Dean shudder. His bit his lip. Clenched his teeth. Then nodded. He couldn't think. Not now. If he started to let his mind wander, he would realize that this was fucked up in so many different ways. And what he wanted most at this moment was not to care. Not be rational. He wanted to do what made him feel good.
Dean leaned back, tossing his jacket away. Both his shirts followed. Castiel began to admire his exposed torso, but Dean gave him little chance as he dove back into action, pushing his mouth into his. Castiel let him in and Dean tasted every inch of his mouth. Moaned at his taste. The angel's fingers roamed Dean's back, digging themselves into the toned flesh as Dean moved down to Castiel's neck. He licked, bit, and sucked the tender skin. A pattern that he repeated over and over. Cas could feel the bruises that Dean left, as if he was marking him as his own. That thought only made him more desperate to let Dean have him.
Both the man and the angel sat up, Dean still latched to Cas' neck like a starving vampire. He tugged at his tie, letting it fall to the floor after he finally got it off. Cas struggled to get his shirt unbuttoned and Dean, in a lust driven act, ripped the shirt open, snapping the last few buttons off as he removed it from the angel. Castiel fell back, head rolling in the pillows as Dean laid his bare chest against his own. The heat of his body, the contact of the bare skin. Castiel's mouth fell open as Dean once again assaulted his neck with his teeth. The angel pushed Dean back, falling headfirst toward the other end of the bed. Cas fell on top of him and began licking the man's lips, moving to his neck then down to his chest, tracing Dean's anti-possession tattoo with finger. The mortal's bare torso was moist with the mixture of sweat and Castiel's saliva.
Castiel stood and rid himself of his pants, kicking the cloth away before doing the same with his shoes. Dean was already out of his boots but paused as he was about to unbutton his jeans. Cas was between his legs, already doing it for him. The jeans were off and tossed aside in record time, Dean's throbbing manhood in Cas' firm grip.
It was almost as if it was a competition at this point to see which bare-bodied man wanted it more. Castiel could feel the greed nearly choking him and in sex-driven heat, he had Dean's entire length in his mouth. The hunter's hips bucked forward and he cried out, not anticipating the angel's move. His fingers gripped the bedspread and the bed shifted slightly as Dean's body spasmed in pleasure and sheer euphoria given by Cas' mouth. The movement of his hips increased, both in speed and in ferocity. He leapt to meet his mouth, hands grasping the angel's hair, pulling and tangling his fingers in the dark brown mess as he fucked his face. A lustful sound came from somewhere deep in Dean's chest, moaned louder and louder the longer Cas sucked him and the closer he got to his climax. The edge was near. Dean felt it. Cas knew it. The angel couldn't help but moan the mortal's name, mouth full of him. Lost, braindead and knee-deep in lust, Dean pitifully called out to the angel, uttering words between moans and groans, hoping to get the message across before he came.
"Cas.....wannna.....gonna.....fuck you....god....fuck Cas...."
The angel knew what his mortal lover wanted. And he was willing to give it all to him.
His hips jerked again, one last time as Castiel moved off of his cock, missing the warmth and the pleasure of his mouth. Cas fell back into the pillows, a sudden need to have Dean's hands on his body overcoming him. Dean saw it in his otherwise emotionless face. The jade made Castiel shake, shiver, the lust plagued him like a disease. He rose his head to met those eyes, somehow sealing the deal. Silently agreeing that he wanted the man in everyway possible. Not only to fuck him but have him.
Something in Dean broke. The last bit of apprenhension. The last bit of questioning. He silenced his mind, grabbed the angel's wrists and held them down in a tight grasp as he moved between his legs. Under the restraint, under Dean, Castiel begged for one last kiss and Dean obliged. His body twisted under his hold as Cas held Dean's head in his hands, kissing him quick and deep. Cas felt Dean push at his entrance, wanting desperately to be inside of him. The angel groaned in Dean's mouth as their bodies rubbed against each other. All in one second, the contact was gone. Castiel's vessel screamed at the absence of touch. Dean flipped him over and now he laid face down on the bed, feeling Dean's weight upon him, feeling his hips thrust forward on his ass, trying to break through, trying to enter him. Castiel accommodated by jerking his ass into the air in order to meet Dean. He was in.
Dean moaned.
Cas moaned.
The air was thick with obscene curses, moans, groans, and whimpering.
The noises that Castiel made. Hungry and sex-heavy. Threatening to send Dean over the edge already. He was inside of Cas to the hilt and felt the angel adjusting to his intrusion.
"Dean," Castiel choked out, voice wavering. "Please Dean...please..."
The angel begged. Begged for something that didn't have to be specified. Dean knew. The man withdrew, only to slam his body back into the being from Heaven beneath him. Cas' wrists were still held to the bed by Dean's grasp, aching from the pressure. Dean maintained the motion. Withdrawing. Slamming back into the angel. Then he sped up. The thrusts became faster and shorter in between, working Cas open to allow Dean deeper inside of him. The hunter's head fell to lay on Castiel's shoulder as short, ragged breaths fell over his lips. Cas savored the contact of their exposed bodies once again although it was short lived. He could sense Dean's impatience. His need for release.
Dean rose, momentarily pulling out of Cas. It happened again. That horrid feeling of absence. The lack of touch from Dean. Even if it was just for a second, it was still one second too long. Dean grasped Castiel's hips, yanked him back onto his cock.
"Fuck fuck fuck....Cas open up. Let me in damnit. Let me in."
Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, let his mouth fall open, sounds of pure sex leaping off of his toungue. Dean grasped his chest, pulling Cas back to him and they fucked in that position. On their knees. Dean's chest pressed against Castiel's back. He drove himself into the angel over and over, fucked him, fucked him until he was well past numb. Broken. Cas couldn't stay in this position for much longer. His body threatened to give out under Dean's relentless assault. He went limp but didn't fall. Dean held him, kept him up. Calloused hunter hands on the soft, tender skin of his vessel. Castiel just let himself rest against Dean's chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat and his moist skin and his warm, curse tainted breath muttering into his ear. Dean fucked him fast and deep. With the last of his energy, Castiel struggled to meet each thrust, hungry for the feeling of completely taking the man inside of him. Dean's hand had reached around, grasping his erection and jerking him violently, in rhythm with his thrusts.
"Come...come on stop fucking fighting it. Come for me."
Dean's rugged tone and his sex littered panting drove Castiel further and further to climax. He wanted desperately-- oh so horribly-- to let it last. He feared the moment when this was over. When Dean wasn't touching him. But all of that was thrown to the wind as the angel's mouth split open. Castiel came. Hard.
Dean clenched his teeth, hissing a nearly inauduble "yes" as he felt the angel release all over his hand. Cas chanted his name over and over. Dean grunted with each thrust, each motion, filling the angel's ears with sounds of sweet animalistic pleasure. The heat from his body, the pounding of his heartbeat, the pressure of his hands on his hips, forcing Cas to take all of Dean and more. He felt Dean's rapidly approaching orgasm. And before he could fully prepare, he already had his face buried in the bedspread. Dean fell apart, lost all control as he flooded Castiel. A peak that made his body shake, fingers digging into the angel's shoulders, holding on for dear life. Castiel remained silent, internally screeching as he felt Dean's orgasm.
And then they were still.
Dean panting in Castiel's hair, his weight still on top of him. His cock slowly withdrew from his aching, but satisfied hole. Dean relaxed against Cas, laid there and just attempted to pull together the pieces of his shattered mental state. Cas didn't dare speak, didn't do anything that he thought would ruin the moment that was only accompanied by the sound of their heavy breathing and the humming of the air conditioner.
All in one motion, Dean was there still on top of the angel then gone. On his feet, clothes back on, on the phone with Sam, speaking as if Castiel wasn't there, lying about some non existent lead on Eve that he thought he'd found. He looked back at Cas, who still laid naked on the bed. Castiel felt exposed. The man who looked at him wasn't the man who his vessel hungered for just mere minutes ago. The green in the Winchester's eyes was gone. Castiel couldn't find it. And he searched so helplessly to find it. The familiarity of it. The comfort of it. He found none. Just a blank, cold expressionless look that said "we don't speak of this and it would be wise for you to forget about it".
Dean was gone. Metaphorically and literally.
Castiel curled up alone, suddenly cold in the bed. Listened to the distinct growl of the Impala's engine as it got quieter and quieter.
The emptiness overwhelmed the angel. He didn't--wouldn't-- allow himself to feel used. Dean Winchester was just a man. A man who he saved from damnation. Castiel wouldn't allow him to get to his core like this. The pain that he feared still came however. The absence of having Dean's hand on him hurt him more than ever. A knife to his chest. If this is what it felt like to have emotions, to sacrifice yourself to someone who only wanted one thing and nothing else, then the angel truly felt pity for these humans.
There was a war awaiting him in Heaven. The mother of Purgatory roamed the Earth. Crowley was surely somewhere cursing the angel's name.
But for now, Castiel just laid there.