AN: Hello everyone! This isn't my first fanfiction, but it is my first Destiel. I've never actually watched the show, aside from accidentally catching an episode here or there, but I met the fandom on Tumblr, and fell in love with this pairing, so I couldn't help but get mauled by plot bunnies. Please R&R, I'd really love to know what you think. Oh, and please keep the summary's warnings in mind. Don't like, don't read.

For those of you who are reading my other stories, I just wanted to say this: 'Tea of Fate' is on a temporary hiatus whilst I battle a combination of writer's block, homework, plot bunnies for unrelated stories, and ADD. I love this story far too much to abandon it though, and I've been having an idea or two for it lately, so please do not despair, and have patience with me. I am genuinely sorry for the delay.

As for 'The Case of The Youngest Holmes', I haven't written anything new for it in a little while, but I have the next few chapters typed up and ready to post, so hopefully I'll be able to think up new plot bunnies for this story before my stockpile runs out, and it won't need to wind up going on hiatus like ToF. I'll let you know.

PS, I own nothing except my sunny feels for Destiel. ^.^

*Who is your favourite angel from Supernatural?*

The Apocalypse was over. Weeks had turned to months as Castiel, Bobby, and the brothers Winchester scrambled and fought to lock Lucifer in Hell once more. They often failed, and sometimes they died. But, in the end, everything got sorted out. Sam trapped Lucifer and Michael, came back soulless, got his soul restored, went insane, and got healed by Cas. Castiel went on a power trip, got his vessel stolen by Leviathans, broke Sam, lost his memory, got it back, fixed Sam, went insane, wound up in Purgatory, and got brought back again, no longer crazy. Dean… Well, Dean had just done his best to keep up.

He'd tried having a normal life, with Lisa and Ben, but then Sam had come back, and Castiel had been all over the place, running around with Crowley. Then they'd been stuck in Purgatory, and gotten separated, and it had taken everything Dean had to get Castiel to the exit, only to end up leaving him there. Castiel had stayed behind, wanting to pay penance for his sins, but for the longest time Dean had remembered it differently, and thought that it had been his fault. Things had finally settled down. Lucifer was out of the way, Crowley and Raphael were dead, Cas had brought Bobby back.

Anna, of all angels, had taken over running Heaven in Michael's place. She'd been the one to take pity on Castiel, forgiving him and sending a Garrison to rescue him from Purgatory. Gabriel had shown up a few weeks later, revealing that Lucifer hadn't really killed him, but merely hallucinated doing so. His Trickster abilities had saved him once more. The surprising thing was that he'd insisted on joining their Hunting party. The rest of them, Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Cas, were battered and tired, but alive and intact. For the moment, there were no monsters for them to hunt, and they were all just hanging out at Bobby's house until trouble popped up.

What Cas still hadn't told Dean was that one of the reasons he'd chosen to stay in Purgatory was because being around Dean had gotten too much for him to bare. After everything he'd done, especially to Sam, he didn't think he deserved to be in Dean's presence anymore. Also, he'd been hoping to get over his feelings for the Hunter while he battled for his life against the Leviathans. Only, his plan had failed. The moment he'd set eyes on Dean again, all of the love and the agony which accompanied it had come flooding back, and felt all the stronger for having been bottled up for all of those months.

He was strongly considering returning to Heaven, and begging Anna to turn him back into a 'hammer', as Dean would put it. At least that way he wouldn't have to deal with having such powerful emotions anymore. But Anna would never agree to it, she was still technically fallen herself, even though she had her Grace back. Besides, even if he was able to convince her, Dean would be disappointed in him, and he didn't think he could handle that, even as a 'hammer'. He'd already fallen for the human once. There was nothing to say he wouldn't fall for him again. His soul still shone just as beautifully as it ever did, despite everything he'd been through over the years.

The horsemen had gotten their rings back, and none of them were too happy with the brothers. Famine in particular had decided to go for a Grudge Match, sending an entire city into a frenzy to draw out the gang. It had worked, of course. There was no way they could just ignore what he was doing. It wasn't going too well for them though. For one thing, Castiel had disappeared after just one day in the effected city, and Dean hadn't seen him again for two whole weeks. He was ready to admit that he was very worried about the angel. Full mojo or not, the horsemen could still fuck with his vessel.

Dean's pacing came to an abrupt halt as Gabriel manifested in front of him. His momentum almost carried him right past the short angel, but he managed to stop himself. It wasn't hard, considering that the look on the angel's face had frozen the blood in his veins. He swallowed the lump in his throat before asking, instinctively dreading the answer. "Where's Cas?" Gabriel stared hard at Dean, as though he were measuring the human's worthiness, his jaw clenched with displeasure. Finally he spoke. "There's something you need to see." He didn't give the Hunter time to respond, just flew them both to just outside of the door to Bobby's panic room.

Gabriel gave Dean barely a second to re-orient himself before continuing. "You know what Cassie said about Famine not affecting angels? Well, he was wrong. It just takes more effort with us. He was so scared of what he might do, that he drew out a circle of sigils in holy oil, and voluntarily lay down on it. He even included sigils for silence, so nobody would hear him screaming and release him before his hunger had abated, but even that wasn't enough to stop all of the sounds. Those screams you can hear are his. Only a human can pull him out of there, or I would have done it myself already." Dean stared wide-eyed at the door, horrified.

Sure enough, he could hear Castiel's gruff tones rasping out a hoarse scream. It sounded like Dean's name. "What the hell is he hungering for to do something like this?" He turned back to Gabriel when he didn't receive an answer, but there was nobody there. Gabriel had left already. He gulped nervously, but he opened the door. Sure enough, Castiel lay on the floor. His trenchcoat, suit jacket and tie were all bunched up in a corner of the room, and the angel's shirt was unbuttoned, hanging open to reveal his lean chest, flushed with arousal. His trousers were unbuttoned and unzipped as well, Castiel's boxers visible between the flaps. Sweat poured down the angel's face, shaking side to side, his whole body trembling.

He looked half delirious. His body lay spread-eagled, writhing, but frozen in place as though his wrists and ankles were manacled to the floor. His boxers were tented by an obvious erection, one which looked swollen and painful. That explained why Castiel had gone to such lengths to seal himself. He was hungering for sex, and if he'd been loose, he might not be able to keep himself from attacking someone. Well, this was awkward. He wanted nothing more than to release Castiel, and spare him his suffering, but how to do that without getting raped? Hmmm… Perhaps if he were to call a prostitute or ten, to sate Castiel's lust first? Would that work?

Castiel whimpered, and opened his eyes for the first time since Dean had entered the room. His blue eyes were clouded with pain. The sight of them made Dean wince. "Dean, are you real? I can't tell anymore." Dean's heart clenched with sympathy in his chest. "Yes, I'm real. Gabriel showed me where to find you. How bad does it hurt, Cas?" At the sound of Dean's voice saying his name, the angel gasped loudly, and let out an unearthly moan. "Deeeeeeeeeeeeeean! You have to get out of here! My body's on fire!" His entire body shuddered as another wave of lust crashed over him, and the air near his shoulders shivered as his wings tried unsuccessfully to free themselves.

He whimpered again, even more piteously than before. The pain was almost unbearable; he would lose his mind soon. Dean swallowed thickly. He'd never seen Cas suffering so much before, and he absolutely hated it. He had to do something, fast. "What can I do to make it better? Would it help if I called some prostitutes?" Castiel shook his head, crying now from the pain. "It can't just be anyone. I'm only hungry for you, Dean!" Dean froze. Had he just heard Cas right? Suddenly it felt like a large amphibian had taken up residence in his throat. He tried to swallow four times before it worked. When he felt like he could talk again, he croaked out the first question which came to mind. "Why me?"

Castiel closed his eyes again before he replied, and answered through gritted teeth. "Because you're the one I'm in love with." The sigil for silence flared beneath his back, singeing him. He screamed in agony, without making an actual sound. Dean couldn't take it anymore. He didn't care what Cas did to him, he couldn't just stand there while Castiel was being tortured. If he really was the only one who could ease his pain, then he'd just have to put up with it. Castiel had done far scarier, far more dangerous things for Dean's sake in the past. He moved to stand behind Castiel's head, gripped his arms, and dragged him off of the oil markings. Cas was too exhausted to try stopping him, he just hung limply in Dean's hands, resigned.

Dean took off his plaid button-up shirt, and used it to wipe all remaining traces of holy oil from the angel's skin. As his Grace, no longer bound, came flooding back to the surface, his wings burst forth unbidden. He turned his head away in shame. In Heaven he'd often been mocked for the colour of his wings. He was the only angel in existence who had raven feathers. He hated showing them to anybody, but he just didn't have the strength to confine them to his Grace anymore. Besides, this wasn't Dean's first time seeing them. When Dean had refused to believe that Castiel was an angel, when he woke up after being raised from Hell, Castiel had shown him his wings as evidence.

Well, as evidence and as a way to intimidate him into being more respectful of God. He still regretted that. The point was, Dean already knew how ugly he was. Hadn't the human stared at these black wings in horror that time? It had been enough to make Castiel want to run away to Heaven and never return, but after a few weeks he'd just missed Dean too much to stay away any longer. He'd returned, expecting Dean to sneer and mock him as his own brothers did, but he hadn't. The Hunter had been mysteriously nonchalant about it. In the end, Castiel had decided that Dean must not know how unique the colour of his wings was.

Castiel was startled from his thoughts when a callused hand reverently stroked the broad edge of his left wing. He flinched at the strange sensation. Dean had shifted so that Cas was resting on his side, with his head and shoulders on Dean's lap, and the older Winchester had started gently petting his wings. He was staring at them in fascination. "Cas, I wish you'd always leave your wings out. Has anybody ever told you how beautiful they are?" Castiel's eyes widened in shock at the words. "Beautiful? Weren't you horrified when you saw them?" Dean's face contorted, but ironically Castiel didn't recognize the pitying, affectionate expression.

"That wasn't horror, Cas. That was awe you saw on my face. I couldn't believe how beautiful you were. You took my breath away." Castiel tilted his head in genuine confusion. "My wings are the only ones in Heaven which are black. They are ugly and disgraceful." Dean glared fiercely at him. "Who told you that?" Castiel grimaced at the memories. "Everyone did, from the day I was made. Even Gabriel used to joke about it, before he left Heaven." Dean had never wished Hell on an angel before, but damn if he didn't wish it on every last one of them but Cas right now. "Sammy told me that the colour of an angel's wings reflects their character. Is that true?"

Castiel just nodded, not understanding where Dean was going with this. "Well then, the way I see it is, you're the only one with black wings because you have more compassion and faith in humanity than all the other angels put together." Castiel still looked confused, his eyebrows all scrunched up. Dean didn't even realize it when his hand moved to the angel's face, smoothing out the deep creases. It felt natural, somehow. Castiel relaxed into his touch, and waited for him to explain. "Sometimes, caring that much means you also feel the pain of grief and disappointment much more than any of the other angels. I'm sure your pain would be enough to turn anyone's feathers black."

Castiel's eyes widened, and his breath stuttered. Could Dean be right about him? Dean wasn't finished talking though, so he quieted his thoughts and concentrated on listening. Dean smiled at him, pride shining in his eyes. "They probably know it, too. I bet they were only making you feel bad about your wings because they were embarrassed. Seeing your wings must have made them feel guilty about being such cold, conceited assholes. They must have wanted you to be more like them, but you're not. You're kind, Cas, right down to your core. I bet it's what makes your Grace shine so brightly. You should be damn proud of it, because that's why you're so damn wonderful."

Castiel shakily let out the breath he'd been holding. He wasn't sure if Dean was right or not, but either way, that was how Dean saw his black wings. How could he possibly want anything more than that? He smiled brightly at his human, warmth exploding in his chest. But then, almost all of that warmth was sucked down into his groin. He gasped at the sudden shift, and whimpered at the pain when his aching cock throbbed. Castiel lifted his face to look at Dean, not even noticing the pain in the human's face. He didn't realise that he'd shifted so that he was now on his knees in front of Dean, or that he was gripping Dean's arms hard enough to leave very large bruises.

His strength had returned, and now all he could feel was his need. Dean seemed to understand, but he didn't shy away. Blushing bright red, he kissed Castiel's forehead. He was giving the angel his permission to do whatever he needed to do. Castiel shuddered, and squirmed against him, whimpering pitifully. "Dean, I don't know what to do. How do I make the fire go away?" Oh crap! Dean had forgotten that Cas was a virgin. It wouldn't be enough to just let him do what he wanted. He'd have to be taught how to do that. Well, this wouldn't be awkward. Oh no, not at all. He decided that the quickest way to settle this would be to just get Castiel off, and pretend that he was only touching himself.

He carefully pushed the angel's slacks and boxers down, freeing his large, purple erection. Dean winced at the dark colour. Castiel's erection had to be killing him. It couldn't be healthy. He didn't hesitate when he wrapped his large hand around the straining cock, ignoring the way Cas screamed and arched his back, pressing into his hand. His hips started thrusting to match Dean's rhythm, and the human's breath caught in his throat. "Cas…" The name was whispered so quietly, so reverently, that the angel almost thought he'd imagined it. Nevertheless, it hit him like a punch to his guts.

Despite having no personal experience with physical intimacy, he'd been watching over humanity for millennia. He wasn't completely clueless. He surged forward to mash his lips clumsily against Dean's, flicking his tongue out to taste the soft flesh, and nuzzling lovingly against his cheek. It was Dean's turn to shudder, having never felt the rough, heady pleasure of stubble scratching his face before. He moaned, low and primal, and then Castiel was flat on his back, Dean raining hasty kisses from above all over his face and jaw, then moving further down and ravishing his neck. Dean moved his hand away, instead settling his hips between Castiel's legs and grinding down.

They both groaned at the delicious friction, but it wasn't enough. Castiel's hands fumbled with Dean's fly, struggling with the zipper until he had to just give up and tug the offending clothes down while they were still buttoned. Dean grunted at the rough treatment, but he didn't complain. He could take it. Besides, now they were skin to skin, and some light bruises on his hips were more than worth it. He kicked off his shoes and pants, and pulled his undershirt over his head, tossing it into the corner where Castiel's trenchcoat lay. Now they were both completely naked. They rutted enthusiastically, and it was only a minute or two before Castiel finally found release.

Dean sat back, surprised at how little time it had taken, and trying to hide the fact that he felt disappointed. He couldn't hide how shocked he was that he was disappointed. When the hell had he gotten his own erection? But luckily for him, Cas was feeling too blissful to notice. Dean turned away, ignoring his discomfort and reaching for his jeans, but he stopped when he felt the angel gripping his wrist. "Dean…" There was pleading in his voice, and apology, and a bit of fear. Dean raised an eyebrow at him, confused. "I'm still really hungry. I need more of you." Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before the realisation of what Cas meant hit him like a sledgehammer. "You want me to…?"

Castiel looked away, embarrassed. "I don't know what I want you to do. I just need you to do something. It still feels like my skin is on fire." Dean relented, draping his body languidly on top of the angel until they were pressed together chest to toe. Although he was much heavier than the shorter man, Dean didn't have to worry about squashing Cas. Angels probably didn't even really need to breathe. He kissed Castiel again, slowly this time, reassuringly. It was okay that Cas still needed him. It wasn't his fault, he wouldn't hold it against him. After a few minutes he moved down, kissing his lean chest, licking off the spots of cum he found there, and nibbling gently at his dusky nipples.

Dean was no longer naïve enough to think that all he'd have to do was get Castiel off. He realized now that they'd have to go all the way, and have actual sex. It was most likely the only way to break Famine's spell. This was still Castiel's first time though, so Dean was going to make it as good as possible. Cas had earned it. When he kept moving further down, and inevitably came to Castiel's revived erection, Dean forced himself not to think too hard about it, and took Cas into his mouth. He wasn't too sure what two guys were supposed to do together, but he watched enough TV to have a general idea.

He moved his face away just long enough to spit into his hand, spreading the saliva all over his fingers before moving them down to Castiel's entrance. Whilst the angel was distracted, Dean carefully prepared him, praying he was doing it right. Cas laughed, a sudden, surprising bark of a sound. "You do remember who it is that receives your prayers, don't you Dean? Don't worry about a thing, you are definitely doing it right!" Dean glared at him, embarrassed beyond words, and prodded petulantly inside Castiel's ass. The angel arched up again as his prostate was assaulted, wracked with pleasure. "Dean! Do that again!"

It was a few minutes more before Castiel was ready for Dean, and by then he'd already cum a second time, down the back of Dean's throat. He'd taken his human by surprise, but Dean had still managed to swallow most of it. What little had escaped to dribble down his chin was eagerly lapped up by Cas as they started making out again. As Dean educated the angel about the best ways to use his tongue, he aligned himself with Castiel's entrance, and slowly pushed in. Cas moaned, low and gravelly, and Dean had to stop and concentrate on his breathing for a minute. He'd almost lost control at the sound.

After a couple of seconds, Cas grew impatient and rolled his hips forcefully. Dean let out a strangled cry, and started thrusting, slow but deep. His whole body was rocking with the motion, he was using much less self-control than he would have with a woman. Cas was anything but fragile, and the angel was enjoying it judging by the sounds he was making, so Dean wasn't worried. Suddenly he found himself on his back, the breath knocked from his lungs, and Castiel sat straddling his hips. "Too slow!" Dean blinked up at him, eyes wide with shock, but they slammed shut when Cas lifted himself up and right back down, impaling himself gleefully on Dean's erection.

Castiel rode him fast and hard, demonstrating just how much more stamina he had than a human. In the haze of his bliss, a thought floated up into the forefront of Castiel's mind, a thought which absolutely floored him. It felt like it was binding his lungs with steel cables. Dean wasn't doing this because he loved Castiel in the same way that Cas loved the Hunter. He was doing this for Castiel out of pity, a sense of obligation, and compassion. He didn't want Castiel to be in pain, because he cared about the angel, but he didn't love him. New images flashed through his head, images of a life lived with a Dean who loved him.

Cuddling on a couch together, Dean trying to explain the movie they're watching to Cas, eventually giving up and making out with him. The two of them spending Christmas with Bobby and Sam, and perhaps Gabriel as well, but spending the entire day blissfully ignoring everyone but each other. Dean lovingly stroking the angel's swollen belly, kissing the skin which was stretched over their child. Holding a dark-haired, green-eyed toddler in his arms. A large, American Dream sort of house, not far from Bobby's place, with a picket fence and a huge yard, and maybe a dog running around, and the two of them playing soccer with their son, while their daughter sits on the porch, reading fairytales.

He could hear her sweet little giggles, and imagines himself dramatically pretending to trip over the ball into a patch of mud, just to hear her laughter. Castiel's heart ached, because none of those memories would ever be real. He would never have any of them, and he wanted them. He wanted them so much that it was painful, and he was never going to get any of them, because Dean didn't love him. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as his hips stuttered. Dean had started stroking him, matching his rhythm, and he was on the brink of release. Dean moaned out his name, and it was too much. He came hard, white spots dancing in his vision, his whole body rigid and straining.

Dean joined him a second later, cumming with a scream of both pain and pleasure. Castiel's ass was gripping him a little too tightly; he was going to get bruises. It didn't matter though. The Hunter still thought that the bruises were worth this level of ecstasy. He was too blissed out to see Castiel quickly wipe the tears from his face before they fell asleep together on the cold, hard floor.