Chapter Text
…and its sweet beginning
Love.
Even though Gabriel had implied it, Dean can hardly believe Castiel when he utters those words. If he’s completely honest with himself, he knows he loves Castiel too. It’s not a big revelation, just something that has been growing below the surface that he has struggled to find the courage to admit.
He’s still gathering his courage.
Dean finishes checking Cas’ feet for glass shards, frozen for a few beats of his erratic heart. Blood rushing to his face, he can’t help ducking his eyes in shyness but wills himself to stand and frame Cas’ face with one hand. Brushing his thumb over Cas’ fuzzy cheek, he looks into the eyes of his angel. Cas’ eyes are guarded but when Dean places his other hand on Castiel’s cheek to fully frame his face, Cas’ face transforms into unadulterated hopefulness. His lips parting in a soft silent gasp.
Dean presses a chaste kiss to them. It’s fleeting and sweet. A perfect first kiss. Cas’ beard scratches at his stubble, his lips are dry and pliant beneath his. Sulfur from the demon possession colors the kiss. It makes Dean wince with disgust that he quickly tries to hide. Dean pulls away and wets his own lips with his nervousness.
“We should clean all of this up, get some rest, and head back home tomorrow?” Dean asks quietly, his thumb running across Cas’ bottom lip. Cas nods in agreement, so Dean releases him from his grip and grabs Cas’ shoes.
They make short work of cleaning up the damage, both to the cabin and Castiel. Castiel shaves, showers, and brushes his teeth. He comes out of the bathroom with a hesitant smile and opens his arms to show Dean the restoration to his former self. Clean-shaven face, hair somewhat tamed, and in Dean’s spare clothes since the demon ruined his own.
“Lookin’ real good there, Cas,” Dean compliments.
“Thank you, Dean,” Cas returns just like his normal self, much to Dean’s relief.
“Hungry?”
“I could eat,” Cas replies.
“There is a steakhouse, I think it’s called the Mangy Moose. I passed it going through town,” Dean questions, clearing his throat awkwardly.
“That sounds agreeable.”
“Ok then.”
The two men stare at each other awkwardly for a beat, Dean’s nerves betray him, but he gives Cas a shy smile and chuckles to himself. He doesn’t know how to make this less awkward, but the two shuffle to the Impala in silence. Dean drives to the steak house and from the corner of his eye, he watches Cas’ long tan fingers drum impatiently on Baby’s seat. Dean doesn’t say anything though… he’s never been real good at talking about his feelings. They reach the steak house, sit, and order in uneasy silence.
The restaurant has an actual stuffed moose pulling a sleigh hanging from the ceiling along with other woodsy paraphernalia. Dean’s eyes flick around the restaurant. To the TVs, back to the stuffed moose, to Cas’ chest, to the bicycles hanging from the ceiling, the stuffed raccoon, the cast iron tub, and back to the Moose… Dean can’t look into Cas’ eyes yet… not without word vomiting up his feelings and potentially not saying something right.
“Dean,” Cas starts when the waiter leaves them, “You don’t… you don’t have to feel obligated to me.”
Cas’ face is twisted in misery, working the napkin between his hands.
“Cas, buddy, I don’t feel obligated,” Dean tries to express and looks at Cas, pleading the angel to read between the lines. The words, I love you too, this is like a dream come true. I can’t believe you love me, roll around in Dean’s head and he quiets them, not wanting to express his feelings in public.
“Oh, ok,” Cas answers shortly, his brows furrowed. His eyes down and focuses on the napkin, Dean is about to explain but then their food is delivered and Dean’s train of thought is interrupted.
They spend the rest of the meal in silence. Oppressive, awkward silence. Conversations on the tip of Dean’s tongue that he wants to start but then stops by the long looks from Castiel. Looks of embarrassment and hesitation are exchanged. Dean pays without comment and they make their way back to the cabin. The asshole demon that possessed Cas had helpfully rented it for a few days on Dean’s credit card.
The whole cabin is pretty plain beside the stupid moose printed comforter that is thrown across the double bed. The walls are paneled, a wood stove is in the center of the room with small armchairs sitting in front of it, and the bed to the side. A small kitchenette and a bathroom off to the left side of the room.
They get ready for bed, just like they do at home. They share the cramped space, bodies brushing together with every movement. Dean in his shirt and boxers and Cas in his tight boxer briefs. Brushing their teeth, washing their faces, it's an eloquent dance of familiarity and intimacy. Everything is normal until Cas stops short at the bed and stands awkwardly at the foot. The moose comforter mocks Dean, he can almost hear his brother heckling him.
“We can share,” Dean gruffly says, gesturing to the bed. Castiel only nods in agreement, sliding between the sheets and curling up onto his side. Dean watches while he curls around himself, small and visibly tense. Dean slides behind him, hesitantly putting a hand between Cas’ shoulder blades. Cas doesn’t relax under his hand at first, but Dean decides that he could give Cas a back rub as he used to when the angel had difficulty sleeping.
His hand starts its journey, up and down Cas’ back in soothing strokes until he feels Cas relax beneath his ministrations. The pads of his fingers drag against the smooth expanse of Cas’ tanned skin. Dean runs his hand down Cas’ muscular arm to intertwine their fingers. He picks Castiel’s hand and presses a kiss into his palm, tasting the salt of his skin on his lips. Dean tucks Cas’ arm back against him, his angel watching Dean with curious eyes.
Dean’s hand makes its way back up Cas’ arm, over his shoulder, to underneath Cas’ jaw. Cupping it, he brings Cas’ lips to his own. Pressing another soft and sweet kiss. Then another. Then another.
Each press of the lips, Dean tries to express how much he loves Castiel. How Castiel represents home to him. How his life has become so much fuller and more wonderful with Castiel in it. How Castiel is in Dean’s heaven exactly how their life is now and how much that says about their relationship. He wants to tell Cas that he wants to spend all of his days with his best friend at his side.
Instead, Dean kisses. Soft, slow, measured. Reverently. He opens the kisses for soft exploration of Cas’ lips and tongue. Dean guides Cas’ lips against his own until Cas is an expert. They parry back and forth; lips swollen and spit shiny. Breath mingled and noses rubbed against each other in fondness.
When Dean pulls away, after one more small peck of a kiss, Cas' smile is infectious, and his eyes light up with happiness. Dean could drown himself in that happiness.
“I was a dick. I fucked up and I was taking it out on you,” Dean whispers against his lips, touching their foreheads together and breathing in Castiel’s sweet breath from the toothpaste.
“I figured that out, Dean,” Cas replies sassily and presses his lips against Dean’s so sweetly it makes Dean want to weep with relief.
“I’m… I’m not good at this,” admits Dean.
“I know, that much is obvious.”
Dean stops and looks at Cas, soaking in the visage of the man underneath him. His ocean eyes filled with teasing mirth, the messy black hair, and his wide smiling lips. Dean eyes shutter closed when he feels the other man’s hands drifting over his shoulders and down his arms.
“Is there anything you don’t know?” Dean asks, but the joke in his voice sounds weak even to him.
“Not really, I’m over a millennium old and I like to think I know you,” Cas answers, his tone soft as his fingers card through Dean’s hair.
Dean lets out a huff of exasperation but melts into Cas’ exploration. He’s been starving for this, the easy intimacy between the two of them. He can’t recall how long he’s wanted the soft touches of someone’s arms around him. He lets out a soft moan when Cas’ hands roam down his neck and over his chest, the pads of Cas’ fingers teasing his nipples through his shirt. Cas kisses him softly but hungrily. His lips are smooth and his tongue makes arousal sing through Dean. Dean tries to hold his pelvis away from Cas, but his hands travel down to Dean’s ass and press Dean down into Cas’ parted legs.
A lightning bolt of pleasure strikes Dean, snaking its way down to his core.
A wanton moan rumbles out of Dean’s chest when his arousal meets Cas’ own hard cock. He bends to Cas’ will, body pliable when Cas flips them and takes control. Cas removes Dean’s shirt, his hands and lips worshiping Dean’s body beneath him. Cas bites and laves his tongue against Dean’s neck, his jaw, and his clavicle. Squirming with pleasure, Dean runs his fingers through Cas’ hair and runs his hands down the expanse of his back.
Their lips join, hardly coming up for air, as the two men rut against each other. Castiel’s hips are smooth and strong against Dean’s. Dean doesn’t even try to hold back the moans and grunts of his appreciation for the man above him.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Cas whispers into his ear voice teasing and breathy, biting his lobe, “Not today, but soon. I’m going to open you up so slow and when you start begging, I’m going to fuck you the way you deserve.”
“Don’t make promises, Cas. Maybe I’ll be the one doin’ the fuckin’,” Dean parries back, throwing his head back and his hips grinding up into Cas’ own. He’s putty in Castiel’s hands, moaning and panting with every teasing touch.
“I don’t think so, beautiful,” Cas teases, shucking Dean’s underwear down his legs. Cas is quick to wrap his hand around Dean’s length and give a few maddening slow strokes. Dean gives in to Cas, enjoying every dry pull on his cock, and secretly grateful for Cas’ obvious consumption of pornography. When Cas removes his own boxers, Dean pulls Cas' hips down into his, bucking against the soft warmth of Cas’ pelvis.
“Lube?”
“In my duffle, side pocket,” Dean answers and watches Cas’ lithe form cross the room. Enjoying the view, he palms his length and gives a few strokes, “Hurry up man, it’s been a while and I might come without you.”
“You’re ridiculous,” retorts Cas, smiling and rolling his eyes. He throws the lube at Dean from across the room, making Dean reach up to catch it. They exchange a quiet laugh and a smile. Cas even stops at the side of the bed, his erection bobbing heavily against his belly, tip gleaming. Dean runs his hand up a strong thigh and gives Cas a teasing touch. His hand swirls at the head, feeling the warm and steel-hard flesh in his palm. Cas’ gaze is intense with hunger and is focused on Dean.
“You want this?” Cas asks, fingers trailing down Dean’s arm holding his cock.
“And I thought you were a millennium old all-knowing being,” jokes Dean, giving a teasing tug.
“Dean.”
“Jesus, Cas. Don’t get all pissy, yes, I want this. I want you,” Dean replies, tugging on the back of Cas’ thigh to come back to bed. They exchange soft kisses until Cas’ taciturn, but valid, concern about consent melts away.
Popping the cap of the lube, Dean pours some into his hand and runs his hand down his length. Exhaling in pleasure from the cold wetness. When Cas’ body is snug in between his legs, Dean aligns their dicks and wraps one of his large hands around the two of them together.
“Perfect,” Cas sighs, on his knees and thrusting into Dean’s hand. Dean watches Cas’ body in rapture. The sight of their lengths sliding against each other, the flexing of Cas’ abdomen, and the cords of muscle in his thighs. He’s gorgeous and Dean closes his eyes in bliss. His orgasm building within him. When Cas’ hand reaches between them, enclosing around Dean’s and urging them faster, Dean loses himself in the pleasure.
“O’ Dean,” Cas groans and tumbles into his orgasm after, Dean’s stomach painted in ropes of white. Castiel is cautious of totally resting his body against Dean’s, their release, and softening members pressing in between them. Cas lazily plants open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach, still bearing the majority of his weight on his arms.
“Just rest, baby, I’ve got you,” Dean murmurs against Cas’ temple, stroking the sweaty hair away from Cas’ forehead. Pulling his lover's body against his own, feeling the tension drop out of Cas slowly. The weight of Cas is amazing, solidifying that Dean just really had sex with a man. It’s perfect for Dean, feeling like he’s truly come home.
“Baby?”
“Don’t like ‘baby’?”
“That’s the Impala,” Cas sighs, face pressed against Dean’s neck.
“Sweetheart?”
“No.”
“Pookie?”
“Dean, that’s demeaning.”
Both of them are laughing, high on endorphins. Lazy kisses and laughter are traded as Dean goes through other nicknames; sweet pea, love bug, cutie pie, honey bun, pumpkin. All are vetoed, Cas laughing loudly when Dean gets absolutely ridiculous and tries to call him turnip. Tenderly, Cas cleans them both off with a warm cloth and settles next to Dean. Curling over his chest and lightly tracing his fingers connecting the freckles that splatter across Dean’s skin.
Dean’s almost scared to say it, but he plants another tentative kiss on Cas' temple. His words rumbling against Cas’ cheek, “My love?”
Cas is quiet, but he shifts to look Dean in the eyes.
Breathing hard, Dean’s smile unsure, “I think that’ll do, love.”
Cas’ voice is deep and sonorous, “I like that.”
They stay like that, bodies intertwined and comfortable. Skin pressed against skin until Dean starts drifting off into a comfortable and content sleep. He feels Cas shift against him and a soft kiss against his lips.
“Sweet dreams, Dean,” is whispered against his lips.
“G’night, love,” slurs Dean.
They continue as they always have been once they do get home. Castiel sporting a shiny new tattoo over his ribs, something in Enochian to protect him from both demons and angels. They have their movie nights, grocery shopping, and Cas continues to bring Dean’s lunch to him during the day. The only difference in their daily life is those soft maddening teasing kisses during the day and the exploration of their bodies at night.
They don’t kiss in public, or in front of Sam, but Cas will press his lips against Dean’s when they are alone. Dean can guarantee a few kisses throughout the day. When Cas hands Dean his coffee in the morning when Dean walks him back to the truck after lunch, and if they are alone when they are washing the dishes after dinner. They are sweet and wonderful and they make the back of Dean’s teeth ache with how saccharine they are being.
They have long talks, curled up together on the porch in the swing. Castiel finally explains why he fell from grace. That healing Dean’s soul from the Grigori was an insurmountable task and Castiel willingly gave all his power to bring Dean back from the brink of death. When he had prayed to Gabriel, it was just confirming what he had already known… that he was slowly becoming human. Castiel’s grace is still hanging in there by a thread, though he admits that it’s so weak that he doesn’t tap into it for anything. Though Dean has his doubts of being worth it, Cas readily admits he would do the same thing a thousand times over and that being with Dean is exactly what he wants.
And that’s exactly what they do with their days, do exactly what they want. The brothers don’t hunt much, serving more as a backup to their network of hunters. Castiel volunteers and they spend the majority of their days in domestic bliss.
The only thing that could be improved is that Cas still sneaks into Dean’s room once Sam has gone to bed. Dean would prefer for the two of them to go to bed together, but he hasn’t quite figured out how to come out to Sam yet.
Despite not telling Sam and somewhat sneaking around, having Cas in his bed is completely worth it. Some nights they cuddle and other nights he tortures Dean in the best way.
Dean loves having sex with Castiel. He loves learning his body. Never having had the opportunity before, he is learning that having a long-term sexual partner facilitates the best sex he’s had in years. He enjoys watching Cas writhe in pleasure through his eyelashes while Dean’s got a mouth full of cock. He gets high on the power it brings him watching Cas being reduced to a shaking mess. Dean loves aligning their cocks together, he really enjoys thrusting between those glorious runner’s asscheeks, and he loves listening to the sounds of Cas’ pleasure when Dean’s hands just touch and explore. Though he loves giving Cas pleasure, nothing is better than when Cas takes control in the bedroom.
The former Angel of the Lord has an intense focus and determination to wring every ounce of pleasure from Dean and a penchant for making him beg for it, just like he had promised. They haven’t even had penetrative sex, yet. And Dean begs, he tries to stay quiet but most of the time he ends up sounding like a two-dollar whore.
“Cas, come on, I’m ready, please.”
“Dean,” Cas voice soft yet unyielding, “I did extensive research and I’m not about to rush this and end up hurting you.”
Castiel has three very lubed fingers deep within him, brushing up against his prostate making Dean’s legs quiver and his hands clench into the sheets above him. It’s a familiar feeling, one that he’s become addicted to in the past few weeks but now he needs more. He needs Cas.
“You son of a bitch, I am so in love you but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to kick your ass out of this bed so hard it’s going to make you wish you never fuckin’ saved me. We’ve been doing this for weeks and I won’t ask you again,” Dean snarls and thrusts down onto Cas’s fingers, his frustration making him shake with need.
“You're in love with me?” Cas whispers out, his motions stalled.
Dean’s fog of frustration clears and takes a good look at his lover. His body is glistening with sweat, his hair wild from Dean’s fingers earlier, his own erection heavy between his legs. He looks amazing and Dean can’t believe the look of shock on Cas’ face right now, “Of course. I love you. You know that, Cas.”
“I… I really didn’t know for sure. You’ve never explicitly said it before,” he answers slowly, hesitantly, his deep voice unsure.
“Castiel,” Dean breathes out, “I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“I love you too, Dean.” Cas leans down and kisses Dean. It's a sweet kiss and the entire moment would have brought tears to Dean’s eyes if it wasn’t for the fact that his ass is deliciously full of Cas’ fingers. Cas even has the audacity to brush his fingers against his prostate while kissing him, making Dean writhe.
“That’s great, I’m so glad we cleared that up,” Dean pants, his hips canting down and his body eager for more.
“Me too, now I can make love to you,” Cas smiles, eyes crinkling and gums showing.
Dean can’t quite think of a witty comeback, the keen loss of Cas’ fingers makes him shudder, his eyes close and his mouth is dry. He doesn’t have to wait long, Cas decides to answer his previous pleas. Every inch is slow and torturous, Castiel watching his face as their eyes lock on to each other. When Cas bottoms out, Dean feels full and slightly uncomfortable but he won’t fight it… determined that he’s going to enjoy this. He can tell by Cas’ blissed out face he’s already there. They move together, slowly at first until the fire of white hot heat of release grows in Dean. He’s close and he can tell by the stuttering of Cas’ hips that he’s not the only one.
Harder, faster. Dean urges his lover and Castiel gives in, pistoning into Dean. The loud slap of skin reverberating against the walls. The sounds coming out of Cas are out of this world, soft and deep, and praising Dean. You're so beautiful and strong. Feels so good. So in love with you. Confessions that tip Dean over the edge, he erupts shortly before Castiel painting his own chest up to his neck. He watches Cas’ climax unfurl and thinks to himself that he’ll never get tired of seeing Castiel’s rapture.
“S’good,” Dean mumbles into Cas’ neck. Cas hums along with him. They don’t bother getting up, falling asleep plastered to each other's bodies and beyond gross. Dean will wash the sheets tomorrow anyways.
Dean finds himself spending his Saturday morning with Sam for the first time since Cas moved in almost a year ago. Cas had an early morning shift at the library, which Dean was bummed out about but understood. He wanted to go hiking this weekend, the weather had finally tapered off into fall and it was downright gorgeous outside. He almost begged Cas to take the morning off, but Castiel was really excited about securing a full-time position after volunteering for so many months.
Dean brews coffee for him and Sam, chops an array of vegetables, and assembles the two veggie omelets. Sam comes bounding through the house, sweaty and breathless from his run. Dean waves at Sam and then his brother disappears. Dean hears the shower kick on, sipping his coffee and watching the vegetables sauté in his skillet. He slowly assembles breakfast, enjoying his coffee and thinking about what he’s going to make for dinner. Cas had mentioned tacos the other night, so he’ll have to go out and get the ingredients later. He’s deep in thought when he hears Sam come back into the kitchen.
“I found a house on my run,” Sam interrupts his musing, sliding into one of the kitchen chairs.
“What?”
“A house, it's a decent price. Kinda small, but I’m just one guy so I’m gonna call the realtor to see the inside,” Sam states, taking a swig of his water.
“What? Why are you thinking about buying a house?”
“Dean-”
“Don’t, “Dean,” me asshole. Not in that tone. I know that tone, that’s your “You are being stupid and I’m going explain something to you like your in friggin’ kindergarten tone.” Bitch,” Dean snaps waving the spatula at Sam.
“I’m not going to explain anything to you, you jerk. I just want my own space,” Sam says slowly and hesitantly.
“Why? What’s wrong with our house? Is it not good enough anymore?” Dean angrily jabs at the omelet, destroying its perfect shape. He’ll give it to Sam, the ass.
“The walls are thin,” Sam states simply.
Throwing down the spatula and turning off the burner he wheels around and looks at Sam, “What the fuck are you talking about? The walls are thin? Is this about our movie marathon when you had a migraine the other night? You are going to buy a whole other goddamn house because of that?”
Groaning and running his fingers through his long hair, Sam looks exasperated but drops his hands down the table in defeat, “Dean, this is not about your movie marathon. If I have to hear you and Cas one more night after last night I’m going to have to be admitted to the psych ward. You guys, I know you are trying to be quiet… but Jesus, Dean you are so friggin loud.”
Mind on the fritz, Dean just stares at his brother for a few minutes. A blush working up his neck and cheeks. He’s not ashamed of being with Cas, it’s just… he’s held it so close to his chest that he couldn’t figure out the way to tell Sam.
“Cas is terrible at sneaking out of your room in the morning too,” Sam adds, rubbing the back of his neck and clearing his throat.
“How long?”
“How long have I known?…Well, it’s been a few months now. I swear I thought you two had something going on before that demon possessed Cas, but I asked Cas and holy shit did he share way too much information. I know he’s doing really well with being a human here lately, but you are going to have to talk to him about privacy and boundaries,” Sam laughs awkwardly.
Dean nods, turns around, and plates their omelets. He sticks Sam’s in front of him and then settles down across the table. He ends up taking the broken omelet, pushing it around his plate, and nibbling on it here and there.
“This is a good thing, Dean. I’m happy for you, I just don’t want to hear it anymore,” Sam says trying to catch his brother’s eyes, “I know you don’t like change, but I think this will be good for you and Cas. He was talking about having a full real life with you the other day. Pets, kids, marriage, the whole “apple pie life” you’ve always wanted.”
Nodding, Dean takes a sip of his coffee, “He wants a cat. I told him I was allergic.”
“You can get the shots or take the pills,” Sam offers the solution with a smile.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Dean answers with a hesitant smile. His brother might as well be waving the bisexual pride flag he’s got such a goofy grin on his face. In response, he stabs Sam’s omelet with his own fork to make the omelet ugly like his.
“Hey now!” Sam explains swatting at Dean’s fork, “Eat your breakfast instead of pushing it around, your eggs are getting cold.”
“Your eggs are getting cold, bitch.”
“Jerk."
That night, Cas joins him in bed wearing Dean’s hotdog pajamas. Cas is happy, his face relaxed and content. His hair is sticking straight off his head from drying it roughly with the towel from his shower. He flops down next to Dean and wiggles his way next to him in the most exaggerated silly way to make Dean laugh, which he does. They kiss unhurriedly with no intention apart from kissing, until Cas moves to snuggle and Dean picks his book back up to read. Cas rests his head up against Dean’s chest, closing his eyes and soaking in the warmth of their bodies together. Snaking a cold foot into Dean’s pant leg, Cas sighs in contentment.
“I saw the prettiest orange tabby at the humane society today,” Cas comments softly, his voice hushed to not disturb the relaxing quiet.
“Still allergic, Cas.”
Cas presses two fingers to Dean’s forehead and the familiar rush of grace fills Dean’s body. Dropping his book, Dean stares at his lover flabbergasted.
“And now you're not,” Castiel impishly replies.
“Cas-”
“Yes, I used the last of my grace. His name is Baby, he was one of five former feral kittens. An elderly couple was taking care of them, but when the wife passed the man moved in with his daughter and there was no one to care for them. He was her Baby. He’s so sweet, Dean. I’m picking him up tomorrow,” Cas explains quickly and with a smile.
Taking a moment to just look at Cas, his former angel of the Lord… Dean decides that he’d really do anything to make Castiel happy.
“I’d like to go together, maybe swing by the pet store first to get supplies,” Dean says and nuzzles Cas’ neck.
“Yeah?”
“Yes, love,” Dean replies and kisses Cas’ smile. Letting out his own sigh of contentment he curls around Cas and they kiss until Dean can no longer hold his eyes open. He drifts off to sleep knowing that his life with Castiel is his heaven on Earth.
-end