DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural. I wish I did. Or at least had a joint-custody agreement and got to spend time with it every other weekend with supervised visitation. Oh well…

[Sequel to "Wrapping My Dreams Around You" – read it first, please]

Dedicated to Nancy T., who reviewed "Wrapping My Dreams Around You" and gave me the idea for this... Hope you like it!

SPN Crack:

Pairing: Dean/Castiel

Rating: PG

Setting: Early Season 6

The hunter smiled, grabbing the lapels of the familiar trench and pulling Castiel's mouth to his. The kiss was needy and desperate but, Hell, so was Dean right now.

Castiel let out a soft moan when the warm mouth left his. He felt incomplete.

He opened his glazed-over blue eyes to see Dean grabbing for the steering wheel – no doubt to start the car and drive off blaring music so loud neither of them could think clearly.

Dean's smile dropped – his voice dead serious as he admitted, shoulders drooped, "It was a nightmare. Just a bad dream. Not real."

The Angel knew something was bothering his friend. He could see it all over the freckled face. This dream had been more than just some nightmare.

But, through no lack of trying on Castiel's part, he found he could concentrate on nothing other than the disappointed tingle on his lips where Dean's mouth had been just moments earlier.

The man in the driver's seat cast a sidelong glance at his passenger, who had remained unnervingly silent.

He was very surprised to see that the trenchcoat-clad Angel of the Lord was sitting in his seat, dumbfounded, with the tips of his fingers ghosting over his lips.

He turned in his seat to face the man sitting beside him, a confused but amused look on his handsome face.

"Cas!" The Angel looked up. Good. "Hey, um, you okay? You seem a little out of it."

The dark-haired man sat there for a moment, his fingers still on his kiss-swollen lips.

It was like watching Tarzan – one of the old movies, not that weird revamped TV show from a few years back.

The Angel blinked once, still more than a little out of it, and his brows furrowed.

"You kissed me." His voice was more growly than usual.

Dean's ears burned a bright scarlet and he coughed to hide his embarrassment. "Um, yeah. Sorry about that."

Castiel's eyes narrowed and he grabbed the man's shoulders – the left shoulder tingling through the thin fabric of the grey t-shirt. He pinned Dean to the door of the Impala, his head hitting the rolled-up driver's side window with a soft thud, and the dark-haired warrior held him there.

The dirty-blonde man opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced when the Angel's lips came crashing against his.

It was clumsy, a little too slobbery – but nice.

The Angel pulled away and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable.

By the time Dean had regained enough control of his upstairs-brain to form real words again; Castiel had flown the coop – embarrassed and most likely fearing the backlash.

Dean mentally cursed himself for being such an idiot. But that did not stop him from trying to rationalize his actions.

It's just a kiss. I was happy to see him – after that nightmare, who wouldn't be a little emotional? It's not like that means we're a thing now…

The hunter groaned at the thought and turned the key – his baby's engine turned over twice before she roared into action.

For cryin' out loud, this is Cas we're talking about. He was probably confused and didn't know what to do. It's not like he has a thing for me.

He punched the radio, bringing it to life –

"If you wanna know (shoop-shoop-shoop)

If he loves you so – (shoop-shoop-shoop)

It's in his kiss. (That's where it is)!"

Dean's forehead collided with the rim of the steering wheel. "God damn it."