I get the feeling this is the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for… if you know what I mean ;)

but seriously, please let me know how I did!

5.02AM

Sam woke with a mangled shout, his hands flying to his chest without conscious thought and clawing there, feeling his own skin frantically. He felt sweat lash from a tendril of hair as he thrashed, sticking to his forehead and the back of his neck in uncomfortable wet clumps. His nerves buzzed and he felt sick with the fading memory.

"It's ok." A voice hushed him in the darkness. "You won't come to any harm."

In the dark, Sam's vision gradually started to focus and his hectic breathing slowed. He never had nightmares, not about any of his injuries, but the phantom pain of the angel blade being ripped from his chest and the image of Castiel leaping on him and closing the wound – it assaulted him in sleep.

The source of the voice revealed itself, sitting in a chair parked politely by the bedside. How long had he been sitting there? Sam reflected that he had definitely been alone when he first went to bed.

"Cas…what are you doing here?"

The angel leaned closer to Sam, allowing him to see the deep sorrow in the angel's eyes and the heavy guilt he carried in his frown. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry this happened to you."

"Does Dean know you're here?" Sam asked, his sleep-draped voice still containing traces of nightmarish alarm. Castiel raised two fingers towards Sam's face and swept them lightly across his forehead, and instantly, Sam felt engulfed by peace. A white light radiated behind his eyelids, and he was more than happy to chase it. It was leading him somewhere beautiful and calm, and he revelled in the knowledge it would bring him into a sleep unpunctuated by dreams.

"No." the angel answered. Sam didn't hear him.

.

.

Castiel appeared suddenly and silently, not bothering with his standard greeting to Dean. He figured Dean would notice him.

It was hard not to notice when a man appeared directly behind you in the shower.

Dean yelped with shock when the back of his arm touched something solid and he partially spun around, almost slipping on the wet floor of the bath he stood in. He braced himself against the tiled wall for support, everything slippery and coated with grime. Recognition sparked in his eyes and he let out a relieved sigh as the remainder of adrenaline pumped through him.

"Christ, Cas! You almost gave me a heart attack!"

The angel flinched at the blasphemy, disapproving. Dean hurriedly apologised. "What the hell are you doing? That angel mojo would sure come in handy for stalking people."

"You're alone, and not at Bobby's. We can talk now."

"Well…right now I'm in the shower, Cas. Maybe when I'm done." The angel's face contorted in disappointment and Dean felt his stomach lurch.

He had been avoiding this 'talk' since their first fumbled encounter in Bobby's spare bedroom, (exactly 9 days and 8 hours ago) and not from lack of Castiel trying. Since then, Sam and he had stayed in various motels along the I90, as usual, but a major change had been added to Dean's itinerary – when Sam and Bobby were otherwise occupied, Castiel would immediately make an appearance quite different in nature to the meetings they previously shared.

Dean didn't realise how difficult it was to get time away from the others until his situation had drastically changed to call upon it. Castiel would only appear to Dean when they were definitely busy on errands and not likely to come home in a hurry - something Dean was quite insistent on. Dean would only allow Castiel these meetings on the premise that he not tell anyone about them, in any way. He was very specific about that, and it made Castiel's chest feel strangely heavy. Of course, he wanted these moments alone just as much as Castiel did, but he constantly reminded the angel of the 'conditions' as though he could give them up if he felt the need.

Deep down, a part of Dean acknowledged that he probably never could.

"Another day avoiding talking, Dean?" He was taken aback by the angel's forceful tone. "You owe it to me. When will you tell them?"

"Don't rush me, Cas." Dean ran the bar of soap over his arms and chest, facing the jet and away from Castiel.

"What do you think would come of telling them?" Castiel was beginning to sound angry now. "Do you think they would think less of you?"

Dean ignored the angry tone, rubbing hands through his hair with his back to Cas and tipping his head under the stream to wash out the resultant lather.

A closed fist slammed against the wall by the side of Dean's head, thin spidery cracks like webbing spreading over the tiles in every direction. A few pieces of tile fell from the hole and landed in the bath with cracking and crumbling sounds. Dean stood, frozen in surprise, rigid as a post and not daring to turn around. He had never been afraid of Castiel before, and he refused to give his current feeling that label.

Castiel withdrew his fist quickly, possibly from shock at what he had done – Dean didn't know, he couldn't see his face. He saw more pieces of tile be dislodged by the movement, cracking against the others as they landed. Inside the hole were patches of powdery paste, held together by plaster dust and droplets of blood. Dean turned slowly, suddenly very aware of his nakedness, to face the angel. Castiel cradled his own hand, a small amount of blood trickling from the knuckles. He cradled his fist not to protect his own superficial injury, but for the same reason he had not yet healed himself; the shock and dread was evident on his face.

"Cas, it's ok…" Dean took a step towards him with a hesitantly outstretched hand, but Castiel took a step backwards, almost tripping in the tight space. Dean withdrew his hand slowly and stared at the angel, at a loss for what to do if he didn't want touched. "You didn't mean it. You didn't hurt me." His words fell on deaf ears; Castiel looked terrified, his eyes blown wide like a deer caught in headlights. He looked about ready to disappear and it made Dean panic. He didn't want Castiel to leave, he couldn't let him.

Dean lunged forward and grasped Castiel, only now noticing that he was soaked through from standing in the shower in his usual attire. He gripped around his shoulders, squeezing and holding him firmly. He knew that if the angel really wanted to vanish he still could, nothing could stop him from going; he just hoped to somehow communicate the strength of his wish for Cas to stay, and hoped that this would be enough. After several moments the sodding angel was still within his grasp.

"You would never hurt me, Cas. I know you wouldn't." He hated these serious moments. It took a certain amount of willpower to over-ride his natural urge to turn to humour all the time, but given that Castiel understood very few human jokes and comic references, Dean had to force himself to console him when he worried, to reassure him when things felt wrong.

"I…" Castiel abandoned his reply.

Dean kissed the side of Castiel's head, feeling the soaked hair beneath his lips. He took a step backward, still holding Cas at arms' length to examine him. He would look almost comical if it weren't for the tone of the moment; a man standing fully clothed in a suit and coat, in a shower and looking miserable. Instead, Dean felt a mingling of sympathy and affection, and a sadness reflecting Castiel's own – something he had found to be happening more frequently every day; a strange mirroring of the angel's emotions whenever they were together.

"Shhh, calm down. I'm fine." Dean squeezed Castiel's shoulders with a soft smile, reassuring him. He gently touched the cuts on Cas' knuckles, and the angel willed them to heal under Dean's fingertips.

Castiel looked up to meet his eyes, water droplets leaving his eyelashes in thick clumps and falling onto his cheeks. Dean removed one hand from Cas' shoulder and smoothed the wet hair away from his face. He cursed himself for the feeling of lust that suddenly spiked in him as he gazed at the angel, soaking to the skin and dripping everywhere, looking so vulnerable in contrast to his power. Naked, there was nothing Dean could do to hide his arousal.

Cas still seemed unable or unwilling to let go of his guilt. His eyes dropped briefly downwards before returning to Dean's again - hooded with lust and searching for a response in Cas.

"Dean…" He began, and Dean really didn't like his tone.

"I'm fine Cas, honest. Don't I look fine to you?" Dean moved forward and pulled Cas closer, guiding one of the angel's hands downwards to brush against his erection. He leaned in and waited for Cas to respond, kissing his neck with gentle but open-mouthed enthusiam. One hand found the side of Cas' neck, holding him carefully in place while he kissed across his throat, the other running fingers lightly up and down his back over the drenched coat that clung to him.

Dean felt a spike of victory shoot through him when Cas finally responded, his clothes vanishing from under Dean's patient hands and revealing his bare skin to the soothing water jets. Dean took this as permission and felt himself be spurred onwards, steering Cas' head forcefully so their mouths collided. He groaned softly against the angel's lips and worked his fingers through drenched hair, smoothing it back and clutching at it.

Castiel was touching him without being prompted now, steady progress being made in the confidence department with every one of their meetings. Dean ripped back the shower curtain while straining to keep his mouth attached to Castiel's, and only pulled away to drag him into the bedroom and towards the bed he had claimed that morning. Castiel obediently followed, allowing himself to be guided towards the mattress under an encouraging flurry of touches, kisses and groans.

Dean fell backwards and pulled Cas on top of him, an action he would have found mortifying mere weeks ago. He continued kissing his neck, running his hands down the angel's back and stroking the rise of his ass with just the tips of his fingers. Castiel sighed as Dean's lips worked the skin over his pulse, the edge of his jaw and back down over his throat. He had long since closed his eyes, rarely opening them in favour of savouring the sensations. Dean's legs parted slightly more and allowed Cas to sink closer to his body, attentive parts of his vessel pressing against Dean in the most intimate of ways.

Castiel stiffened like he was suddenly made of granite and pulled away from Dean with lightning speed. He perched at the end of the bed, looking shut-off.

"Cas, come on!" Dean, propped up on his elbows in response to the angel's hasty retreat, let his body drop back down onto the mattress in exasperation. He rubbed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair, facing the ceiling.

"Dean, I…I'm sorry. We discussed this."

"No, we've not. Not really. All I keep hearing is speculative bullshit." Dean didn't bother looking at the angel; he had already memorised the exact expression that he knew would be playing on his face right now.

"I've told you before," Castiel continued softly; timidly, "I don't want to hurt you. And I could, if I…if we did that. I could cause you excessive physical harm, quite without meaning to..."

"Y'know what I think?" Dean started, feeling his anger rising. "I think you're ashamed, Cas. You're ashamed of what we're doing because you can't let go of what you guys are supposed to be. Angels don't go slutting it up with humans, do they? Is that it?"

"Dean, please..." Castiel's voice shrank under the weight of Dean's sorrowful anger.

"Or maybe you don't give a shit about the way angels are supposed to behave. Maybe the other angels don't care what you do either…maybe it's just that you don't want this. Not fully. What was it you said? You guys mate for life? That's a big commitment, I get it. If that's what it is, Cas…if you can't 'be' with me that way because you don't want to be stuck with it forever? I'd rather you just said it instead of going all sulk-fest and mumbling some shit about accidentally killing me."

Dean took a pause, only now realising he needed breath. He felt guilt start to creep up his neck; a particularly sensitive subject for Castiel was questioning his commitment and loyalty. He knew on some level that the angel would never leave him willingly, and that being bound by the bond forged in mating wasn't necessary to prove their commitment to each other; it wasn't like they had to run off and get married to prove they cared, for Christ's sake…

Still, it was something he yearned for. No matter what his rational mind told him was necessary or not necessary, Dean's chest still constricted at the thought of never physically having that full bond. He softened his tone.

"Look, Cas. I've…I've given up a lot for you. I've changed how I see…well, how I see everything, pretty much."

Castiel sat motionless at the foot of the bed, listening but unmoving. He rested with his arms on his thighs, a remarkably human posture, staring at the bathroom door blankly. Dean shifted down the bed towards him cautiously, as though wary of spooking an animal. He came to a halt kneeling behind Castiel and wove his arms slowly under the angel's own, bringing them up and around his chest, gently embracing him from behind in a gesture of comfort and reassurance. He always felt the need to soothe the wounds after an argument, even to some extent before they had embarked on their strange relationship.

"I don't regret any of it. You know that, right?" Dean almost whispered into the conch of Castiel's ear, followed by a brief and barely-there touch of lips, still holding him. He was relieved when Cas nodded.

"I have an idea. A compromise." He continued, ever wary of Castiel's minute changes in posture and the way he reacted to every word. "Will you hear me out?"

The moments of silence that followed made Dean's stomach twitch with disappointment, until he heard a tense, whispered 'yes'. He thought about how to proceed without scaring Castiel off, choosing his wording carefully.

"You're worried about hurting me, right? If we were to…"

"-have intercourse."

Dean cringed. "Yes, Cas…just, let me talk. You're worried you would hurt me – I get that, really. But…I couldn't hurt you, right? So…what would you say to…me being in control?"

Castiel finally turned to look at Dean again, and the hunter waited patiently for him to digest the words.

"Both parties are involved equally."

Dean swore that sometimes Cas went to lengths to deliberately make him uncomfortable.

"Let me rephrase it." He said carefully, pointedly laying a hand on Castiel's thigh and watching his eyes. "I'd be giving, and you would be…receiving." After a moment, during which Castiel's eyes travelled from the hand on his leg back up to Dean's gaze, the angel showed signs of understanding.

"You want to be…" he paused, considering the wording of the phrase. '…on top'?"

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Well, yeah, essentially. But I understand if you don't want to go that way. I mean, you should only say 'no' if it's because youfeel weird about it…like the whole Biblical-sodomy angle or something, not the 'hurting me' thing. You wouldn't hurt me. I mean, you wouldn't…"

"-Ok."

Dean paused mid-ramble, not sure if he heard the correct word being spoken. He had a hell of a lot more speech-material lined up, there was no way Cas could be agreeing to it this easily…

"Dean? Have I misunderstood you?"

"No! No…I just…I didn't expect you to agree, that's all." Dean felt a smile cross his face. Castiel frowned. "You've just been fighting me on this for days now. I thought you'd still be attached to the whole 'fragile Dean' idea." He teasingly squeezed Castiel's thigh, causing him to jump slightly as though he had forgotten Dean's hand was on him at all.

"You raised a valid point. I estimate that I'd be much less likely to inflict any damage on you from a submissive position."

Dean felt very little guilt at the fierce stab of lust shooting down his spine.

.

.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Cas?" Dean panted, having just come up for air after kissing, licking and sucking his way down the entire length of the angel's body and back to his mouth again. Small bruises had been sucked into his inner thighs, the skin above his hipbones pinkened from teasing bites, sensitive bundles of nerves licked and sucked raw until Castiel writhed and gripped the sheets in desperate need. Dean's skin burned with anticipation. "You can still say no."

The thought of Cas backing out now almost filled Dean with dread and panic, but the angel shook his head frantically. Dean felt reassured at the desperate gesture; the almighty angel, usually so controlled and methodical, reduced to a quivering, begging creature under his attention. No way would Castiel refuse this now, not looking like he was; panting, squirming with the need to release and aching between his legs like he had never known before. Dean's hardness pressed smoothly to his cleft, curious and silently asking for permission to explore.

With their chests pressed tightly together, Dean could feel the angel's heart beating against his ribs, thudding through the skin and mingling with the frantic rhythm of his own. Their sweat combined, their pulses raced each other. Dean leaned close to Castiel's face, drinking in the moment and finding himself desperate to hold onto it. He wanted to memorise every detail of right now, to be able to replay it over and over in future to the best of his mind's ability; this was the first time he would experience this, and first times happen only once.

"Dean…" Castiel's voice was wrecked and low - begging. "Please…" He stopped attempting to voice his needs, instead opting for simply grabbing at Dean's lower back and pulling, forcing the hunter closer to the space between his legs. "Just…" No further words followed, Cas appearing unable to string a coherent plea together. The desperation in his voice spurred Dean onwards, although he made a mental note and filed 'teasing' away for later referral. Dean raised his index and middle finger to Castiel's mouth, and felt an instantaneous reaction shoot to his dick when the angel eagerly sucked on them without a thought.

How much porn is he watching?

Dean reclaimed his fingers and leaned close again, capturing Cas' lips in a searing kiss as he slid one digit inside slowly, carefully. A muffled 'mmph' sounded against his lips and he felt Castiel's body tighten around his finger. Dean kissed Cas slowly and gently as he worked inside him, perfectly matching the speed and softness in the kiss with the strokes of his finger. When he felt the tightness begin to relax he added the second slicked digit, encouraging Cas as he did so by cupping the side of his face with his free hand, kissing him deeper and longer. Eventually, Castiel's legs lost their rigidity and his lower back sank into the mattress. Soft, tiny and barely-there moans began to periodically escape his lips as Dean's fingers moved within him. Dean had ceased kissing him a few moments previously, preferring instead to watch his face with rapt fascination, affection washing over him in waves. He reflected that seeing Castiel like this - eyes closed, nestled underneath him and slowly losing control – may be his favourite thing in the world.

Dean monitored the reactions of Castiel's body, as the angel had apparently lost the ability to do it himself. The ring of muscle around his fingers had relaxed, as had the angel's legs and spine. He was actually beginning to shift his hips upwards in tiny, gradual movements, subtly trying to gain more sensation. Dean removed his fingers gently, causing Castiel to be brought back to the present and frown up at him, questioning why the sensations he was so lost in were being taken away. Dean waited until Castiel's eyes showed that he remembered where this was going.

"You're sure?"

Castiel nodded again, letting his legs fall open wider in blatant invitation.

"I've always been sure."

Dean couldn't have resisted if he tried.

Taking it slowly and as gently as he could, Dean eased forward, guiding himself with his hand, until he finally breached Castiel's entrance. He let out a hiss and a shuddering sigh, his head falling forward and his eyes closing with the pressure. At the same time, Castiel's head fell back against the pillow, his eyes tightly shut, sucking in a breath. It took all Dean's self-control not to slam violently forwards. He knew he could never seriously injure Cas, but he wanted this to be as comfortable as possible; as pleasurable a memory for the angel as it was sure to be for him.

A small shift forwards with his hips and Castiel's eyes shot open, a gasp coming from between his parted lips.

"Are you ok?" Dean asked, his own voice unrecognisable to his ears. "Tell me what you want."

A hand landed unexpectedly on his ass, another at his scalp. Both hands tightened their grip until they were clutching and squeezing, wordlessly pleading.

"Move." Castiel's piercing eyes looked into Dean so deeply, he swore the angel could see his soul and read his mind simultaneously. It was almost overwhelming when combined with the hot tightness around him. The hand on his ass suddenly jerked, forcing Dean forwards and further into Castiel's body. "Now." The word broke in the centre with a gasp as Cas was filled further. Dean couldn't help but gaze down at him, utterly lost for words, drinking in his pleading and ravaged request.

The hand Castiel had on Dean's scalp pulled roughly, bringing his face to the angel's mouth once again and breaking him out of his trance. Castiel attacked Dean's mouth with his own, licking at the hunter's lips and forcing his tongue inside.

Dean stopped thinking and pushed forwards until he felt his thighs come into contact with Cas' skin. He barely paused for breath, instantly withdrawing and slamming back home. Any thoughts of being especially gentle and slow were abandoned. He couldn't hold back this time; not when Castiel groaned and hissed and let his mouth and legs part invitingly, going lax and pliant under Dean's control. Dean pulled his hips back again and again, snapping them forwards relentlessly each time. With every rough thrust Castiel let go of another ounce of control, groans and shudders racking his body. Dean wasn't even sure if the angel was aware of the sounds falling from his lips - being modest and reserved was in his nature. Dean wished Cas could see himself like this, wished he could appreciate his beauty the way Dean did.

Suddenly Castiel's eyes snapped open and he let out a sound that encompassed surprise, pleasure and shock all in one. His eyes remained blown wide, holding Dean's gaze as though an electric jolt had passed through him and was not leaving his body. Dean immediately understood, and smirked teasingly.

"There?" He asked with a smile, bending low to lick and suck the side of Castiel's neck as he continued to move in smooth, fluid motions.

"Y…yes." Castiel panted. Dean moved to the angel's mouth, snapping his pelvis forward in hopes of hitting the spot inside him again. He knew he had succeeded when Castiel's entire body tensed and he let out a groan that would make any porn star blush. Dean failed to stop himself smiling into their kiss at the reaction, each sound of pleasure from the angel encouraging him to thrust faster and push deeper.

Castiel was nearing the edge, Dean sensed. His legs were tensing again, his back bowing off the bed to meet Dean and his hips writhing in time with Dean's own. He snaked a hand under Cas' back and grasped around him, lifting himself up into a sitting position and pulling the angel with him to land in his lap with a soft thud. Cas let out a gasp of surprise, at both the sudden movement and the deeper penetration. His eyes shot open to search Dean's.

"It's ok." Dean reassured, brushing a hand through the angel's raven hair. "I trust you."

Castiel seemed to put a minimal amount of thought into his moral dilemma before giving himself over. He writhed, nestled in Dean's lap with his legs wrapped around the hunter's waist. Dean gripped his hip firmly with one hand, guiding Cas up and pulling him roughly back down, the two working in tandem with each other to establish a rhythm. Dean placed his other hand on Castiel's throbbing cock, squeezing hard and working him in time to their furious pace. Castiel's head fell forward and rested on Dean's shoulder, the subtle moans and heavy breathing flowing directly into his ear and mainlining straight to his dick. Dean felt his own muscles begin to tingle and tighten, the heat under his skin rising and a thin drip of sweat trickling down the centre of his back. He was about to speak when he was cut off by a voice he barely recognised.

"Dean…I think I'm…" An animalistic noise followed in place of words, and Dean found he understood the nonsensical sounds perfectly.

"Come on, Cas." He breathed, finding it difficult to form words himself. "You're so close, come on." He panted furiously, forgetting completely what it felt like to breathe. He forgot everything that wasn't right now, here, on this bed. Anything that wasn't Castiel was banished from his memory, giving way to nothing but this moment; the angel he held, the feeling of being buried inside him, the sounds Castiel made when he was perched on the precipice of his orgasm. It was perfect, and Dean would be more than happy to never regain any other thoughts, feelings or memories.

A loud and cut-off sound came from Cas, still allowing Dean to manoeuvre him in his lap. Dean could almost feel the moment when he struck Castiel's prostate again, causing the desperate breaths and short yelps to escape more often. He was there; he was on the edge. Dean felt him constrict slightly around his desperately waiting cock, and he willed himself not to let go until Castiel did. All he needed was a little push. Dean grabbed Castiel's hair roughly with one hand, holding tight and jerking the angel's head. He collided their lips, allowing himself to groan wantonly into Castiel's mouth to let his own pleasure be known. With one hand still knotted in the angel's hair, Dean wrapped his other arm fully around Cas' lower back, holding him as close as their bodies would allow without sinking into each other. He broke away with a wet sound and moved his mouth to the side of Cas' head to breathe into his ear.

"Come for me, Cas."

Instantly, Castiel's entire body tensed and his back shuddered and became taught as a bowstring. His head was momentarily thrown back, facing the ceiling, before he bowed forward and leaned desperately into Dean for support. Sounds like those of a strangled animal fell from his lips as Castiel's sweat-slicked forehead pressed against Dean's shoulder. Dean held his hair and lower back in equal measures of ferocity, as though letting his grip loosen would cause the angel to crumble. He felt fingernails sink deeply into his back, clutching and dragging with every movement.

"Dean, close your eyes."

"What?" Dean panted, still thrusting upwards with what little strength he had left in his muscles. "Why?"

"Do it." Castiel breathed, the words breaking. "Now!"

Dean reluctantly closed his eyes at the same moment that a bright light, more burning than anything he could remember ever experiencing, assaulted his eyelids. The brightness was so overwhelming that it took him a fraction of a second to register the intense heat on his arms; the one holding Cas around his lower back was uncomfortably hot. A searing pain shot across his right forearm, blisters rising instantly on the skin. Dean ripped away the hand cradling Castiel's head with a sharp growl, pulling the limb tightly to his body out of instinct. He caught and corrected himself almost instantly, keeping the other arm wrapped securely around the angel despite the sweltering heat.

Jesus Christ, it fucking hurt…

"Dean…" Castiel failed to articulate himself in any way other than this, a pained and desperate mewling of a single name. It fell like some sort of pleading question and a revelation rolled into one, like the last words of a dying man. Another broken moan followed, words escaping him.

Encouraged by the sound of Castiel coming with his name on his lips, and finally managing to banish the pain momentarily, Dean finally peaked his own orgasm. As he rode it out, feeling his release leave him in waves, his one-armed grip on Castiel tightened. Dean kept his eyes obediently pressed shut so tightly that they stung. He nudged Castiel's head away from his shoulder so he could bury into the side of the angel's neck, and he groaned into the skin there as the waves subsided and he came down.

Gradually, the world came back to him. The heat was gone, but he couldn't decipher if the light had left with it. Dean was pretty sure his eyeballs had been burned out by whatever the fuck had just happened, closed eyes be damned.

He inhaled gently and smelled Castiel all around him, remembering where he was, who was nestled above him and whose skin he had nuzzled against. The touch of a gentle kiss pressed to the top of Dean's head. The body above him shifted in his lap and within his one-armed grip, a comfortable re-adjustment. Castiel sighed contentedly, relieved and warmed.

"Dean? Are you ok?" The voice was soft, breathy but returning to normal. "Can you open your eyes?"

Dean was almost afraid to; afraid that the light was waiting to attack him and blind him. It was a strange juxtaposition of feelings; he felt like he wanted to chase the light, to curl up inside it and have it envelop him. He wanted to look at it and touch it, although he also knew on an instinctual level that this was dangerous. The light was intimidating and too much, frightening and capable of hurting him. His eyelids burned at the memory.

Burned.

Shit.

As though in a tidal wave, the pain returned to his right forearm like a ravaging flood of fire, banishment forgotten. His eyes opened hesitantly, uncomfortably, everything seeming too dark now. Dean looked upwards and into the face of Castiel, and instantly the pain didn't seem too bad at all by comparison. Castiel nestled in his lap looking down at him, his bright eyes sparkling and swimming, the pupils wide like he was drugged. His hair was mussed and tangled like he had been sleeping, and his face was flushed and his chest sheened with sweat. Dean noticed that Castiel's stomach – and his own – were coated with thin splashes of the angel's come.

He was beautiful, and it made the pain seem insignificant for a moment. Dean could watch post-sex Cas forever.

"What's wrong?" Dean didn't like the tone of Cas' voice. It had suddenly dropped and turned serious, and a frown was creasing his serene expression.

"Nothing…" Dean trailed off. "I just…well…" At a loss to describe what exactly had caused the injury, Dean raised it up between their bodies, only now examining it in detail. The flesh was heavily blistered and charred in places. His stomach churned at the sight.

Castiel's eyes widened and he leapt out of Dean's lap, causing him to withdraw too quickly and subsequently flinch. Castiel was completely unaffected by the sudden change.

"Dean! I…I'm so sorry."

Before Dean could process his movements, Castiel moved towards him and brushed a hand over the blistered arm. The tingling sensation of healing spread over the skin, instantly providing relief. Dean outwardly sighed at the feeling, ever thankful for the cooling touch of an angel being available whenever he should need it. He watched in morbid fascination as fresh, untainted flesh smoothed over the raw burns.

"What the fuck was that, anyway?" Dean asked when Castiel withdrew his hand. Castiel lay back on the bed, and Dean thanked the Heavens that they had just engaged in specific stress-relieving activities – otherwise the angel would probably be way more self-admonishing and guilt-ridden about the injury.

"My wings." He answered plainly. "They are released during the first mating, in their true form."

"True form?"

"Yes." Cas still sounded somewhat solemn through the relaxation. Dean watched him cautiously. "Not a physical manifestation that humans can perceive – their true form. Pure grace and concentrated light."

"Ah." Dean crawled across the bed towards Cas, laying down beside him and pulling the angel against his body. "Sounds…impressive. Wish I coulda seen 'em."

"Not possible." Castiel sounded gravely serious, all angel-business. "I shouldn't have allowed myself to lose control like that. It was selfish of me, I still endangered you."

"I bet they look good." Dean tried for comforting, stroking a hand over Castiel's arm.

"Be thankful you still have your eyes, Dean." He replied.

Dean kissed the top of Castiel's head, secretly revelling in the realisation that he was the first - and would now be the only - person that Castiel revealed his wings to. The thought caused an embarrassing flutter in his stomach, but just this once he entertained the feeling. He made a mental note – in the future, he would most certainly discover what a physical manifestation of that brilliant light could possibly look like. He spoke softly into the angel's hair.

"We'll just have to work on your self-control."