(Set sometime after the events of Season Five's "The End". It's open-ended incase I wanna write more. Reviews would be loved!)

He paced around aimlessly, one hand on his shoulder and the other across his chest. Dean felt as if there was something he forgot to do. Something...important. He'd been back from the future where Zachariah sent him a day or two ago. Maybe I'm just disoriented still... He frowned, continuing to pace the room. If Sam hadn't been getting breakfast next door right now, he would probably pester him or tell him to sit down. Even if the pestering would help, Dean didn't want to hear it. The silence of the room was the only sound he wanted.

The sound of his ringtone going off broke Dean of the small thought pattern he had developed. He pulled his phone out and flipped it open to answer it. "Yeah?"

"Dean, I-"

Dean didn't hear the rest of what Castiel had to say. Instead a look of realization came over his face and the phone slipped from his hand. "Sonovabitch..." He scrambled to pick up the phone and said, "Cas? Hey, are you there?" No answer from the other end of the line caused him to shut the phone roughly. Dean cursed the hardwood floor of the motel as he chucked the phone onto the nearby table. It looked like he'd have to buy another phone later. "Just great."

One hand went back to his shoulder and he went to walk around the room for the fifth or sixth time when he came face to face with Castiel. "We lost connection," he said in a serious tone.

"That was my fault. My phone broke and-"

He noticed Castiel's glance go to his hand that was on his left shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

Moving his hand and pushing up his sleeve, Dean saw the red imprinted handprint of his angelic friend. His eyes grew wide and he looked at Castiel. "That's it." His expression softened to a small smile. "That's what it was."

"...I don't understand," Castiel said, sounding slightly annoyed.

Dean let out a small breath and said, "I needed you. And you're here now." He tried not to sound too happy and scare him off.

"Dean, what are you talking about?" He turned his head slightly to the side in a questioning manner and Dean took the opportunity in front of him. He leaned forward, giving Castiel a quick kiss. Frozen to the spot, the angel asked, "Why did you do that?"

"I just had to. Sorry," Dean said. "You're welcome to hit me if you want."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. "Why would I hit you? Isn't the right reaction to kiss back?"

Shock fell on Dean. "Only if..." Screw it. "It usually is."

He gave a nod and stepped forward, returning the kiss. Dean didn't expect to latch onto the trenchcoat his friend wore, or for him to actually be good at kissing. It was even more a surprise when Castiel's hand went to the same spot Dean had been holding onto for the past two hours. The same spot that the angel held onto while rescuing Dean from Hell.

His thought pattern was broken when Castiel pulled back, face lingering in front of Dean's as he kept his hand latched to him. Castiel looked down for a moment at Dean's hands that were fisted into the coat, then back up with a hint of a smile. "That was...enjoyable."

Dean just smirked.