Disclaimer : I do not own these characters - Eric Kripke does, although I wish for full ownership of Castiel.

The motel room was mostly dark when Dean walked in, unsuspecting of the gloom held within, before he stopped in the doorway, blinking in the meager light until his eyes adjusted to the flickering candle glow held within. He cast his gaze around the room, wondering just what in hell was going on when he saw just how many candles littered every available surface, throwing a romantic light over everything.

"Sam?" Dean asked, in confusion, as he finally came in from the chill night air outside, shutting the door firmly behind him and setting every flame to flickering and guttering.

"Sam's not here, Dean," came the familiar voice of Castiel, as his slim body materialized from out of the gloom on the other side of the room. "I sent him away."

"Okay," Dean said, slowly, still staring at the candles surrounding him. "What's with all the candles, Cas?"

"It's February 14th, Dean. I thought I would treat you to a candlelight dinner. That's what couples do on Valentine's day, isn't it?" Castiel asked, his head tilted to one side in the all too familiar gesture of angelic confusion.

"Yeah. You really did all this for me?" Dean asked, feeling touched beyond all words.

No one had ever done this for him before, and to see that Castiel had wanted to do it, and do it all for him meant more to Dean than anything.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" the angel asked, sounding a little hurt, shoulders slumping a little in dejection.

"This has gotta be the best thing that anyone has ever done for me. So, yeah, 'course I like it," Dean said, feeling awkward, still not quite sure as to what he was supposed to say, what he was expected to do.

Castiel looked up from where his gaze had been rooted to the floor, looking hopeful, eyes still holding that kicked puppy dog look of doom that always wrenched at Dean's heart. The hunter walked forward, taking Castiel's chin in his hand, before pressing lips to Castiel's own, trying to convey with a kiss instead of words how he felt. The angel seemed to know what was meant, what was implied, by the way that his arms looped gently around Dean's waist, by the way that he leant his body into the hunter's, by the way that his lips moved hungrily against Dean's.

Dean broke away from the kiss reluctantly, breathing heavily against the intensity of the kiss, finding his gaze trapped by Castiel's intense blue eyes staring from only a few inches away. They were that same hypnotic blue they always were, still held Dean captive every time. Their breath mingled, tickled against each other's cheeks, sent shivers through each of their bodies.

"Thank you, Cas," Dean said, quietly and was just about all that he could say right then..

"That's alright, Dean. There's more. I have dinner," the angel said, expression brightening a little, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and sending the corners of his eyes into amused crinkles.

"Food? Well, why didn't you say so, before. I'm freaking starving here," Dean said, watching as Castiel opened several cartons carrying Chinese food that had been stored unnoticed on the table by the far wall.

The familiar scents of Kung Pao Chicken, Szechuan chicken and Special Fried Rice filled the air, as Castiel opened each of the corresponding packages. Dean inhaled deeply, appreciatively, as he snagged a handful of prawn crackers and chewed hungrily, small crunching sounds filling the air. He watched as Castiel removed his coat, his jacket, before he shared the contents of each carton between two paper plates., fastidious in his equal measures.

Dean smiled as he watched, loving the fluid easy way that Castiel moved, how his brow furrowed in concentration, at the way his lips puckered and pouted when he was really concentrating. Castiel noticed him watching, looked up, smiled briefly, a pale pink blush creeping across his cheeks as his gaze met and held Dean's.

"You ready?" he asked, eventually, as he carefully sat himself down before the table. "And if you say you were born ready, I will be forced to kill you."

Dean feigned horror, before he said - "You would do that? To me?"

Castiel huffed out a chortle of laughter, before he shook his head at Dean.

"No, now eat up," he said, as he gestured towards Dean's plate with a pair of slender chopsticks.

Dean ignored his own chopsticks, and went for a nearby fork instead. Castiel noticed and hid a smile, behind a hastily chewed piece of Kung Pao chicken speared between quick chopsticks darting down. He closed his eyes in satisfaction, felt the flavors flood across his tongue, opened his eyes once more to find Dean watching him intently.

No words were exchanged, just meaningful looks shared, companionable silence replacing all need for converstation, both comfortable in one another's company to have no need for words. They remained silent, all the while through their unhurried meal, until every last scrap of chicken was gone, every last grain of rice had been consumed.

Dean stood, with a slight groan as stiff joints popped, rubbed at his back where it had suddenly caught, before retrieving his plate from the table, and headed towards the bathroom to wash it. Castiel followed with his own plate, washed them in silence. It was only when plates and Dean's cutlery were washed, cleaned, dried, put to one side did either of them speak.

"Thanks, Cas," Dean said, standing close to Castiel, so close he could feel the heat thrown from the angel's body where he stood. "This has been - perfect."

"I know," Castiel said, with a small smile, eyes fixed on Dean's for an all too brief moment, before he looked away, down to the floor.

His lips pushed out slowly as he suddenly swallowed, looked so damn kissable that Dean took his unconscious invitation and leant in, pressed his lips to the angel's, moaned when he felt Castiel respond without question. Dean claimed entrance to Castiel's mouth, sliding his tongue in possessively, pulled Castiel's body in close with one urgent arm. Castiel tasted of the Chinese they'd just eaten, tasted of the wine they'd sipped, tasted of Castiel himself, of perfection.

Dean laced his fingers through the angel's dark hair, gripping him tight as he plundered Castiel's mouth, moaning at the feel of the angel's lips working at his own, at the feel of Castiel's tongue meeting his own. The kiss was hot, sensuous, perfect, but finally, Dean had to pull away, to catch his breath, to relearn how to breathe. Castiel's eyes remained trained on Dean's, as his tongue made a slow pas of his bottom lip, looking pink in the guttering light of the candle light.

The candles gave Castiel an ethereal quality in their guttering flames, bronzing his skin, making him glow, seem more like the angel he was, than just a vessel harbouring an angel. Dean's hands travelled reverently over Castiel's body, unable to believe that this perfect being was really there, really his, really wanted to be with him.

A soft moan leaked past Castiel's full lips, and his eyes closed tight, eyelashes causing dark shadows on his cheeks in the candle light. Dean couldn't take his eyes from Castiel's face, thinking that in this world of horror and darkness, there was always light to guide the way.

Castiel was his light, Castiel was his guide, and Dean would gladly follow him wherever he should go ....

tbc