It was raining.

Dean mused at how cliché this was. He had been moody and thoughtful all day, so it figures it would fucking pour down rain. He sat in the Impala alone, looking up at the door of his motel room on the second floor. He hoped to god Sam had found better things to do (even if it meant shacking up with more hippie chicks) and he could return to the room in solitude.

It had been two days after their infiltration on Crowley's makeshift lair. It wasn't the heartbreak of the truth that had been pounding in Dean's skull. It wasn't the feeling of hopelessness at rescuing Sam's soul in one piece- though, that of course was ever present in the back of his mind.

It was, of all fucking things, Cas. He couldn't wrap his mind around it- that bastard was hot for a demon? Meg was a despicable being , and it's not as though her goddamn "meat suit" was really even that attractive. He told himself this, and yet he wondered how he would feel about her new body if Castiel wasn't even in the picture. But nothing like that seems to really matter anymore when Cas is around. And he was questioning whether or not he could control himself around him any longer. He was actually kind of thankful that the angel had not showed up after that last trip. He didn't know if he could really function properly around him if he had.

Dean, growing tired of thinking about this situation over and over again, decided to make a dash for the motel. As he quickly ran through the thick, chilly splatters of rain, he very much looked forward to a hot shower and crashing into bed. Maybe a little bit of whiskey, before, he thought. He finally got to the door, unlocked it, and briskly walked in.

And there, sitting thoughtful on the edge of the bed, was Cas. The moment Dean entered the room, Castiel's eyes found his and locked on. Dean's heartbeat quickened and goosebumps crept over his arms and legs- and no, it certainly had nothing to do with all the rain. Cas' position seemed a bit stiffened, he was leaning over, elbows on his knees, hands locked together from deep thought (or perhaps prayer), frozen. He could have been a statue. Castiel blinked and looked Dean up and down very solemnly.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean cleared his throat out of embarrassment, trying to shake off the surprise that was probably all over his face. He started to approach the angel curiously.

"Cas… I thought… you were busy with your crazy angel war upstairs…?"

Cas broke eye contact with Dean, looking at the floor.

"Yes… the war is continuing on without me. I will have to return soon to establish order. I just… suppose I wanted to offer you company."

Dean felt a twinge of annoyance and confusion. "Company?" he asked. "I thought your problems were bigger than ours. You made that kind of clear the last few times you were around. Didn't think you had time for little pit stops."

Cas's mouth twitched, his eyes still lingering on the floor.

"Yes, but, I sensed distress down here."

Dean was confused. Distress? What the hell is he talking about?

"Cas, nothing has been happening since we saw Crowely. What distress are you even talking about? If there was some shit going down, I would have prayed to you. And I haven't."

"You have." Cas finally looked up with him, his eyes wide but sure, the cerulean blue staring deep into Dean.

He swallowed, still confused. A small, sarcastic grin. "I think I would remember if I had prayed to you, Cas." But Castiel was shaking his head before he even finished. Dean's brow furrowed.

"No. You…" Cas' eyes searched Dean's a little more thoroughly, his head tilting curiously. Dean's heart was pounding, now. "Forgive me. You were calling out to me in your sleep…"

And that's when Dean's stomach dropped. He what? "I what?" he blurted out without thought.

Castiel stood then, and Dean felt his face burn, and he cursed himself silently for it. Cas stepped towards him, his blue eyes never leaving the man's green. The intensity of his gaze and the new proximity made Dean look away now, fully embarrassed and speechless. There was absolute silence. Dean felt he should say something, cover up for it, make up some stupid fucking excuse but he couldn't. The part of him that wanted to tell Cas everything, to hold onto him, all the urges he ever felt were fighting to his surface- which Dean told himself he'd never allow. He never expected to be cornered like this. Never-

Cas' warm hand was gently gripping Dean's shoulder. The same shoulder, the same spot where Cas had left his mark upon Dean when he lifted him from the depths of hell. Whether or not this was intentional, Dean didn't know, but he did know that he felt a warmth spread throughout his body at the touch. He felt the hand pulling him, and he dared to look at Cas then- and those gorgeous, wide, tired eyes were so close. And Dean knew Cas saw through everything, because Cas always saw right through Dean with those unearthly, gorgeous eyes. Through all the excuses, the defenses, and now, through that urge Dean had to hide from the world, to stuff his feelings away. Dean's body now felt like a livewire, and he was fully aware of just how fast and loud his heart was. He was mere inches way from Cas now, and he felt the angel's warm breath warm on his face, it's pace quickened.

He couldn't fucking help himself anymore.

Dean closed the distance between them, planting his lips firmly on Cas', his hands finding their way to the angel's face. He pulled away, looking into Castiel anxiously, half-expecting to be thrown into the wall. But Cas stared intently back into him, the corners of his mouth curled ever-so slightly into a wan smile, his the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. "Dean," he said with unmistakable affection.

And Dean felt his heart burst into a million little pieces at this affirmation, and before he could even fully accept what had just happened, he was on Castiel. He was kissing him like he had never kissed another being in his life. Desperately, lovingly, finally. Cas' response was equally as passionate, his hands wrapping into Dean's damp hair, their chests pressed against each other. Dean wrapped his strong arms around Cas' torso, squeezing him as close to him as he possibly could. Their mouths never stopped during any of this. Their lips were in perfect rhythm with each other, tongues colliding and massaging each other.

Dean felt his groin tightening with every passing moment. His thumb brushed over Castiels' jaw, then directed it upward slightly so that he could kiss his neck. And the angel happily obliged. Dean kissed and nipped the warm flesh, pushing him towards the bed. Fucking please, please let me do this, he begged silently. Cas was making small groans already, giving in to the small pushes and prods towards the bed. He allowed Dean to push him down so that he was now sitting. Dean straddled him, curling his hand behind Cas's head. And there was the unmistakable bump of Cas' own erection underneath fabric, and Dean felt almost a sense of triumph at this. He never would have imagined how mutual this all was, how fucking wonderfully their bodies responded to each other, how beautiful and right this truly was.

Dean pushed and massaged against Cas' hip through the material, loving the idea of what this was doing to his hard-on. He returned to the angels neck, using a more liberal amount of tongue, letting it slide over the smooth, salty surface. His tongue dipped to Cas' collarbone, and he began to tug at that familiar blue tie, wanting it fucking off right the fuck now. Cas' hips were grinding now, and he was making little gasps and groans, his hands all over Dean- his chest, his back, scraping over his arms.

"Too many clothes," Dean panted as he focused on removing the tie entirely, and then throwing it on the carpeted floor. "You are wearing entirely too many clothes, Cas."

He felt Cas smirk against his mouth.

And suddenly their clothes were just gone. Literally gone as though they popped from existence.

The moment Dean was aware of this, he leaned back, and looked down at Castiel in surprise. He had a slight, almost foolish grin that made his heart jump. His eyes looked hazy and wanting as his gravelly voice uttered, "Yes. I agree." His hands slid up Dean's sides and Dean shuddered, suddenly seeing what he always had wanted to see- Cas. Cas and nothing else. And he felt Cas pressed against him. And the fact suddenly seem to hit him that he and Cas were naked on his bed.

Dean pushed Castiel so that he was lying down, their hard-ons brushing against one another. Cas groaned at the contact, and Dean couldn't help but let a moan escape. Biting down on his lip for control, he shifted up towards Cas' face, to whisper in his ear. "Cas."It was this simple syllable, his own name, the nickname this soul gave him that sent him reeling. He closed his eyes, writhing a little bit at both the voice in his ear and the friction between the two of them, their cocks rubbing against each other teasingly. He was digging his fingernails longingly into Dean's back as he rolled, sending Cas into a passionate throw. And oh did Dean love the noises his angel was making. Mewling and gasping, muttering the same thing in between these small sounds:

"Dean. D-D'aahhh, ohhh… Dean…"

The low rumble of his voice coming unhinged was doing indescribable things to Dean, in and out. Here was Cas, always solemn and quiet, unraveling before him. Because of him, he thought with a faint sense of amazement. He didn't know how much longer he could last. A part of Dean wanted this to last forever. He could look down at his angel as his angel looked up pleadingly at him, begging him to send him over the edge with his grinding hips and his half-realized, crazed rambling. Part of him wanted to stay in this moment for an eternity-

"Dean… A-ah. Dean, please."

Dean smirked, and knew that even he wouldn't last much longer. He planted a deep kiss into Cas' wide lips before moving to his chin, creating a trail to his cock, stopping just short of it, placing his hands on Cas' hips. He paused, watching Cas writhe, his eyes shut tight, obviously trying to hold on. Dean then gave a gentle lick on the underside of Cas' shaft, and a pleased, desperate moan escaped his throat. Shivers were sent down Dean's body at this sound and he decided he wanted all of Cas now, he wanted him to watch him come now. In one swift motion, he took all of Cas in his mouth, thanking God he had no gag reflex.

Cas gasped and arched his back upward, interlocking his fingers into Dean's hair, steadying himself in this way. Dean bobbed up and down slowly, and Cas let his legs tangle themselves around Dean, his heels digging into the hunter's lower back. They were moving slowly at first, lovingly, sweetly. Dean scraped his fingers along Cas' sides. A strangled cry escaped Cas his muscles tightened. He was very close now, and Dean could sense it. Their motions were becoming much more erratic now, and Dean was on the verge himself, feeling Cas' hands on his scalp and the heat of his skin… everywhere.

"D-Dean, Dean!"

Dean moaned in reply, and the sensation sent Cas over the edge. He came, his legs bending, one hand knotting in Dean's hair, the other found its way to his shoulder, his mark, and squeezed hard. This sent an indescribable sensation through Dean, and it all became too much as came right then and there.

Once they had finished, Dean found his way up to Cas, lying beside him. Cas was still catching his breath, lids half-drawn. He turned his head to Dean, who was watching him carefully. He gave another wan smile.

"Dean," he said simply. Dean chuckled a little, putting his hand on the angel's chest.

"Is that all you can say?" he said somewhat smugly.

Cas allowed himself to smile fully this time, something Dean had only seen once or twice before. Seeing Cas come undone was one sort of amazing, but his smile was whole other kind. Dean felt himself get a little lost as he watched him, his eyes now crinkled and the blue seemed even more vibrant. Cas shook his head, turning to Dean, placing his hand on the hunter's chest now.

"Dean," he began again, "I love you."

Dean felt shock run through him. He felt his defenses, the automatic words flit through his head, the urge to tell Cas not to throw such chick-flick words around. But they were beyond that now. No need for personal space or denial or burying everything now. He felt as though his heart was about to burst through his chest, and he couldn't seem to say or think anything. Cas' face broke into concern at this, his head tilting.

"Is that something I should not have said?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh a little at this, weakly. He closed his eyes and shook his head, enveloping the angel within his arms and drawing him near to his chest. Cas rested his head on Dean's chest somewhat hesitantly, smiling a little to himself. He nodded slightly and wrapped his own arms around Dean. They drifted off to sleep like this together, and Dean found himself without worry for the first time in a long time, not even remembering what was was troubling him before.