Back at the motel, both of us undressed like zombies and crashed into bed. The smell of Cas's dark hair lulled me easily into slumber. He put his back to me as I snaked my hands around his waist. The blankets were forgotten. Feeling like we did, there was no comfort from anything besides him and I that would make this any easier.

He was getting used to sleep by now; I felt his grateful deep breath whoosh out into the room before both of us stilled. The familiar company seemed to be doing something to my head. Having his constant watchful eye, his warm body close by at all times… somehow it made me feel stronger and safer at the same time. Like I could beat anything. Which was really odd, since I was exhausted in a couple of different ways. I didn't push the idea, though. I didn't want to jinx what we had managed to put together.

We zipped through sleep, and in moments, it felt like, we woke again. It was still daylight outside. I was in a foggy frame of mind when I pushed the sleep out of my eyes and climbed into the shower, but I let the searing water prickle and numb my skin, until I was fully awake and fully relaxed at the same time. I heaved a sigh into the pouring stream. It was kinda like therapy to go through the motions of a normal morning – the towels chafe, the soft touch of a t-shirt on my angry skin, the prospect of danger looming in the near hours… Cas wandered around the room, cleaning up a bit and searching for stray markers.

I eyed him as I emerged from the steamed-up bathroom. "How do you lose your grace?" I asked, leaning my temple against the bathroom doorway. It was sharp but steady on my skull as I watched the former angel lift his eyes to weigh on me.

"It either fades, or is torn out," he explained, dusting off his hands. "If it's removed by hand, it falls into the possession of the remover. If I tear it out and fall from heaven, it falls to the earth as a meteorite." He looked down at his fingers absently. "I don't know where it goes when it fades. It may still be within me, dormant. I have never known anyone whose grace has faded."

"Ok, but you said before that you'd heard of it, so there has to be information on it somewhere," I mumbled. "We'll just have to go looking in the right place."

When Cas went into the shower, I dressed quickly and called Bobby, propping the phone to my ear as I buttoned up my jeans. It rang four times, slowly, agonizingly so, until he picked up.

"Bobby! It's me."

"Dean? Good to hear from you, boy. How's Cas doing?"

My stomach coiled with acidic anxiety. "Sam told you?"

"He said you had a lot of explaining to do later."

I silently thanked God for my brother's discretion. "Ok, look, we need to talk. Where are you?"

"Wolf Creek, Virginia, on a case."

"Virginia?"

"Yeah, right outside Richmond."

"We'll come to you."

"All right, boy. I'm in the Motel 6, just East of the city."

"Got it. We'll see you then."

I hung up and began to pack. The very, very last thing I ever wanted to do was confess to the man that raised me that I'm slipping any guy, let alone an angel guy, the hot beef injection – but Cas is more important than how damn awkward this'll be, and that's really saying something. A tremor makes my fingers shake. I'm sort of humiliated to tell Bobby – I shouldn't be, but Bobby is the one guy we learned where to gauge our manhood from. His gay jokes are endless. I mean the guy practically classifies homos as another species. He was a great father to me and Sam, and he still is, but would he be ok with this? Even if he was pissed, was I so sure that it wouldn't change my mind? I swallowed. No, it wouldn't. Nothing could ever change my mind about Cas. I was an asshole for even thinking that.

Feeling lightheaded, I plan to get more food before we go, and I make sure Cas has some things to change into when he's done in the bathroom before I toss the rest into the trunk of the Impala. I sank into a chair with my hands over my face. How was I supposed to know queers come in all shapes and sizes, anyway?

"Dean?"

I looked up in surprise. Cas was standing by the bed and rubbing his hair dry with his towel, giving me a quizzical look. Having not heard the door open I didn't know Cas would see me looking like I'd just made a terrible life choice. Shit. Guilt wrapped around my heart like a snake as I managed a smile and rubbed my knees with open palms. "Yeah, buddy?"

Since he only had one towel he was walking around naked and I got up out of the chair as he walked over to me with it around his neck. "You're troubled. But not about this morning." He observed. The glow of his misty blue eyes made it hard to look at the rest of him, even though I really, really wanted to. He was probably soft and pink from the hot water, but I did see his stubble had returned with a vengeance. The scent of freshly bathed Cas swam around my head and wrapped me up in a warm feeling. I put my hands on his hips and pressed them flat against his flesh.

"I'm fine, I was just waiting to tell you Bobby is expecting us in Virginia. It's a ten hour drive."

"That is a long time." He took my face in both hands and turned it a bit, glancing me over like he was a doctor. "Your blood sugar seems to be low, and you're very pale." Although he didn't say it, when his eyes found mine they were hard and still; they were solid ice over a lake, with something insightful writhing beneath the surface. My chest constricted. I looked at his collar bone to avoid that look.

"It's Bobby," I conceded.

"He loves you boys, Dean. His approval is unavoidable." He knew. Cas never ceases to surprise me, even graceless. But Bobby, approve? Nodding, I lift my eyes and give him another fake smile. To his own credit He doesn't resent me for it. He softened instead. "I will be at your side."

"I know." I took a deep breath through my nose and let it out with another, "I know." Leaning in, I tilted my head and took a taste of his warmed lips, pulling him against me. A cocktail of butterflies, admiration, and a few flavors of horny are shaken (not stirred) deep in my gut. Cas's heated hands were on my hips. He had a very distinct taste; it was soft, like the hint of flavor in honey whiskey, but sharp like a shot of bourbon burning the back of your throat. It ensnared my eager taste buds. It was nicotine to my brain. I kissed him again and again, and each one was just as addicting as the one before. Everything else faded. The room, the case, the trip ahead… I latched onto the crackling energy between us and so did he.

A bitter sweetness in his lips made my heart ache. Even now he was so timid and yet not at all hesitant with his affection. Shy as he was, his love was never filtered. When I felt him respond to my horny undertones I found a tug in my jeans reciprocating. My pulse quickened. We hadn't had time to do anything else in bed since the case started. Before we got into a ten hour drive and another distracting case… I reached between us and slid my fingers along his length, the small intake of breath against my lips enough for me to continue. A deep, hungry satisfaction came out of wrapping my hand around him, nice and naked and firm as he was. His hands slid under my shirt and clung to my waist and my back. His lips grabbed mine expectantly. I began a slow, steady motion, shifting back for more room to move. Another soft moan rippled passed his lips as I tightened my grip.

"I think you should walk around our room naked all the time," I hummed.

His breath hitched as I made another quick motion. "It may become… a constant distraction."

"Mmm… I'll make sure it is."

Grinning, I put my free hand on the back of his neck and kissed him deeply, working him with tight coils of pleasure in my groin. I loved the way little things alone turned me on: his scent, or his voice, or just the spark in his eyes that I knew was his voracious appetite for affection. The stiffness of his erection kept pushing against my hand harder and harder. My fingers shifted and rubbed. I hummed deep in my chest as I slid my tongue between his lips languidly. Cas's mouth tightened around my prodding presence, eagerly drawing me in if it meant I wouldn't stop, and that's exactly what it meant. The tighter he trapped my tongue, the more power I put into my strokes. He pushed himself into me.

There was nothing in my life I could compare to this. I'd done a lot of things and I'd banged a lot of chicks, and I can still say that honestly. How could I even think of giving this up? Or giving him up, after all this? I felt an overwhelming desire to make this man – more like this putty in my hands - as satisfied and safe as humanly possible. That family-like ferocity in my heart never reared its ugly head for anyone that wasn't blood except Bobby before.

Cas was doing pretty well resisting me. I wondered, then, how long he would last if I changed tactics? I pushed him back on the bed and pinned him, pushing his knees apart with mine. He gasped in shock as I stopped moving my hand. "Dean," he pleaded shakily.

Pushing my nose into his ear, I smirked. "How badly do you want it?"

"Very," he groused. "Dean, please."

His plea spurred me on. My jeans strained, hard. I trailed my lips along Cas's throat, where I sank my teeth in and left a dark bruise, with his groans ringing in my ears. I worked my way down, pressing my nose and my lips along the curve of his chest and swell of his stomach. My hands slid over his heaving torso. My head filled up with lust. His fingers slid into my hair, massaging my scalp as I went. I kissed his hip bone where it met the downslide of his solid stomach into his pelvis. Just the feel of his length sliding along my chest and the prickle of his dark oh-so-happy trail blinded me to everything except his pleasure.

God, what had happened to me? Where did all these needs come from? I'd never felt like this about him - especially not about his body, not ever. Not unless I'd just… not wanted to know it was there? As I slid my fingers along the darkness surrounding his length, and slipped him between my lips, and he bucked his hips against the hard draw of my mouth, I wasn't really sure. And I figured that I'd think some more when I could take my mind off the task at hand.