Boundaries

The door creaked open and Dean dragged himself inside the shabby motel room.

He'd driven for at least 5 hours which was way too much time to think: about Sam, about finding God, about this whole damn hole they've fallen down into. He secretly wished Sam was here – not because it would lighten the mood. Only because then he wouldn't be alone.

Of course that made him think that he wasn't entirely by himself. He had Cas, well, sometimes, considering the son of a bitch hadn't been around after the whole 'Rafael' episode.

He sighed and turned on the lights. The dim light flashed in the blub and illuminated the small room.

Dean shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the bed.

What horrible linen, he thought before catching himself. Since when did he care about the sheets? Jesus Christ, he was tired.

The light flickered and turned on as he stepped inside the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The reflection dragged a hand through his hair, messing it.

"Heya, handsome," he said dryly to himself. "Where'd you been all my life?"

He turned around and cursed.

"What do you mean by that Dean?"

Dean turned back to the sink turning the taps and tried to control his pulse again. The water ran steadily.

"Knocking, Cas. Ever hear about that?"

"Yes."

Dean splashed some water in his head. He then turned and walked past Cas to the bed. Dean grabbed the hem of his shirt, and was about to pull it over his head, when he realized Cas was still staring at him.

Dean wondered sometimes how he could look at a person so intensely. It was like everyone he looked at had his full attention. Like, he could look right through them. He probably could though, with his freaky angel powers or whatever.

They looked at each other, waiting. Dean cleared his through to break the silence.

"Do ya mind?"

Cas cocked his head to the side.

"No."

"Cas, what the hell are you doing here? I mean, why do you show up now? Please don't tell me we have to go catch another ninja turtle for interrogation."

"I'm not here for… turtles."

Dean gave up on going to bed right now since Cas was here anyways, so instead he went to his bag and took out a beer.

He sat down at the table, took a large drain of the can, and waited for Castiel to continue his sentence. The angel furrowed his brow.

"Dean, are you alright?"

"Besides Lucifer walking the Earth, the friggin Apocalypse, Charlie's Angels after our asses, and my lack of sleep… Fine. I'm just peachy."

Although a bit more alcohol would be great, he thought, shaking the almost empty beer can. He took at sip and looked at the man before him.

Cas had a serious look on his face.

Oh, wait, he always looked serious.

Dean stretched his back which replied with a loud CRACK.

"Why are you here Cas? You don't have to check on me, if that's your only reason. I'm a big boy, I can handle myself you know. I've hunted alone before."

Dean put the empty can on the table. Cas didn't answer so Dean turned to look at him. He looked down and his brows were furrowed. He seemed to have an eternal discussion. The dim light made his face seem darker. Dean never thought about before, but it was kinda a nice face. You know, as nice as men have.

Dean almost got up to get another beer.

"Are you hurt?" Cas suddenly asked instead.

"What? Were you even list- No, why?"

He walked closer to Dean and grabbed his right arm heaving him up in it. Dean winced slightly but at the same time a warm rush swept through him as the angel touched him. Cas looked at his arm and then his face.

"Take off your shirt."

Dean looked flabbergasted at Cas.

"What?"

"Just do it."

After giving Cas a very annoyed and confused look he brushed off his hand and started peeling of his shirt. Dean hoped Cas wouldn't notice the small grimaces he made as he pulled it off. They both looked at his arm.

Around the upper bicep and the shoulder was a large bandage that was clumsily wrapped around. A foul smell came off it and yellow green goo was starting to bleed through.

"'S just a scratch," Dean said shrugging. "Although I was wondering where that smell came from."

Cas grabbed his arm again and started peering off the bandage. The smell became worse. It didn't seem to affect Cas but Dean was getting a little dizzy.

"I thought I fixed it," he said somewhat offhand. Cas stared at the wound. Then he brought it up to his face and sniffed it.

"Okay, that's just creepy," Dean said, glancing at his friend.

"Dean, you don't heal a wound by pouring alcohol on it," he finally said. He sounded like he was scolding a child.

"No, but it cleans it –"

"This is not 'just a scratch'. It's a deep wound, now infected and it's spreading through your arm."

Dean looked skeptically at the angel.

"It happened a few hours ago, seriously, it can't be THAT bad."

In reply Cas tightened his grip on his arm and Dean let out a small gasp of pain.

"Look," he said briskly. Dean turned his head to look at his arm. His veins were all popping out and turning green.

"Jesus, what is that?"

"It's the monster you were hunting, the Arachne's poison killing you," Cas deadpanned. "I thought you were a skilled hunter. You should know their cuts were venomous."

"Yeah, well, what can I say, it took me by surprise." Cas huffed. "So I better get it fixed then.." Dean trailed off, trying to pull his arm out of the angel's tight grip until Cas let go.

The hunter went to find the journal to look up an antidote.

"I could just heal you," he said. Dean turned to look at him.

"Nah, I'll just do it myself."

Before he could even react, Cas had walked over and gently laid his hand on his shoulder again.

Cold shivers went down Dean's spine and yet he started to warm up more. He didn't bother to move himself again from Cas' grasp. He looked at where the angel's hand was placed and saw how it perfectly fitted the mark on his shoulder.

The cuts from the Arachne's claws went right across the scarred area. Dean thought back to when he first saw that mark. The handprint.

Cas' handprint.

Both of the men were breathing gently.

Castiel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. A warm, pleasant feeling spread through his body from his arm and Dean felt his head get heavier.

Cas' breathing now turned slightly labored and after lingering a bit he removed his hand again.

They looked at each other. Dean could feel the warmth of his breath. He turned to look at where the wound used to be.

The skin was now smooth again but the handprint was still left.

Dean was slightly thankful it was still there. He looked at Cas again, who stared back. Dean looked in his gentle eyes and was reminded how much power Castiel actually holds and how lucky he was to have him on his side.

"You can't repair me forever Cas," he said quietly. "I did fine before you came and I'll do fine when you leave."

"I won't leave you."

They looked at each other quietly again. Dean's eyes softened.

His slightly foggy mind realized that they were in fact standing quite close to each other. And that he wasn't wearing a shirt. (Minor detail). It tingled on his skin at the thought. But maybe that was Cas' breath.

Personal space, he thought, is so overrated.

He moved slightly closer to Castiel and with no warning gently brushed his lips against the angel's. His eyes widened in surprise as Dean closed his and pressed gently. Their noses were pressed against each other. After a second of pressing his lips against Cas' he moved his head slightly so his nose was out of the way and brought a hand up to Castiel's neck.

At that Dean felt Cas grip on his arm again. That warm feeling along with the chills spread through him once more and he gasped a small breath against Cas' smooth lips. He could feel the damp heat returned when Cas widened his lips in reply. Dean moved his head to the other side to capture Cas' lips in another angel.

His thoughts were completely blank. The only thing in his head was how good it felt.

What seemed like minutes actually only took a few seconds. And then it was gone.

Dean only got a glimpse of Castiel's face. In the sky blue eyes, with the shock and confusing was… guilt.

Dean saw the small flicker of guilt and then he blinked.

A flutter of wind brushed past his face and the angel was gone.

Dean was left yet again alone in the small motel room. He blinked a few timed and took a deep breath.

Maybe he could go to bed now.


Anyways, what'd ya think? Please leave a review or a comment or a thought you had about it :)

/Sarah