Archive of Our Own

It started with a flash of light and a loud bang.

Dean felt the hex bag hit him square in the chest. A strong scent of herbs, bitter and acrid, accosted him, sending him reeling backwards. He coughed, turning his head away.

There were a lot of nasty things the hex bag could be for, any number of spells. Dean might be about to start choking on his own blood for all he knew. He should have dodged, but he hadn’t expected the witch to have such a good aim.

“Sam!” he called. “I’m hit.”

Footsteps sounded behind him, and then Sam’s hand was on his shoulder, tugging him around.

“With what?” Sam asked. “I can’t see anything, no boils or anything like that. Was it a spell or what?”

“Fuck,” Dean muttered.

A simple, painful plague of boils was something he almost would have preferred, especially considering all the other things that might be about to happen to him.

He pointed to the hex bag at his feet. “She got me in the chest with a hex bag and got away. I didn’t…I didn’t move quickly enough.”

Sam nodded in quick comprehension. The fact that the witch was gone wasn’t a good thing, but they needed to focus on the hex bag and the possible spell that had been cast on Dean.

There were far too many spells, far too many things that could happen.

Dean took a deep breath to steady himself. He didn’t need to let his fears get the best of him. He’d seen the bad things that happened to people and he could probably convince himself that any number of awful things were a few seconds away from happening to him, but that wouldn’t help them. It would just make it worse. Dean panicking was the last thing they needed. He needed to keep a clear head.

“Do you think we should burn the bag?” Sam asked.

Dean prodded the hex bag with his toe, pushing it further away, and shook his head.

“Not until we know what it is, some of these spells get worse if you burn the ingredients,” he said. “We don’t even know…I’m not…nothing’s happened yet.”

“Do you want me to call Cas?” Sam asked.

Dean pulled a face. He already knew what Castiel was going to say about this and he didn’t relish the lecture about his personal safety that awaited him. Castiel was back at the bunker, stuck on research duty until Dean cleared him for hunting. It wasn’t fair to Cas, not really, but he was newly human and Dean worried. He didn’t want Cas running head first into the line of fire.

If Castiel had been struck by the hex bag instead of him…

Dean shook his head, pushing that thought from his mind. He didn’t want to think about that. Castiel was safe. He was angry at Dean for effectively grounding him, but he was safe.

“We’d better call in,” he agreed. “Cas can get some books together. We’ll have a better chance of finding a cure if we’re all working together. You know, if anything actually happens.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Just tell me if you aren’t feeling well, okay?”

“You better drive,” Dean muttered.

He really didn’t want to suddenly pass out at the wheel and kill them both.

**

Dean didn’t know what he’d expected from Castiel, but he knew what he’d hope for. He’d hoped that Castiel would be concerned. He’d hoped that Castiel would flutter around him, worried and caring for him, but Castiel only listened to the story of their hunt, and the hex bag, with a blank face, no emotion visible, and nodded at the end of it.

“I can’t heal you,” he said.

Dean stared at him.

“I didn’t ask you to heal me,” he said. “I was just telling you I could collapse any minute and die thanks to a random, angry witch.”

“If you haven’t collapsed already, then I doubt you’re about to,” Castiel said with annoying calmness. “I imagine that the herbs in the hex bag must be old. They may not be as potent as they once were and the spell, whatever it was, wouldn’t be effective without fresh herbs.”

“Thanks for the info, I’m so glad my possible demise doesn’t worry you,” Dean spat out angrily.

He wanted Castiel to care. He wanted Castiel to fuss about him, but Castiel had told him often enough that he wasn’t the sort of angel to perch on Dean’s shoulder. He wasn’t any kind of angel now, robbed of his grace and his powers. He was just human. Dean thought that should have made him more understanding, but it didn’t. Castiel was still as uncomprehending as he’d always been about this sort of thing.

“Are you experiencing any symptoms?” Castiel asked.

The word symptoms sounded so clinical. The way Castiel spoke was clinical. He was detached, disinterested and Dean hated it.

“What kind of symptoms?” he asked.

It wasn’t a question he wanted answered, he’d been sarcastic but Castiel missed that. He always did.

“Shortness of breath, a tightening in your chest, burning or itching sensation in your body, any pain,” he rattled off as if he was reading from a textbook. Dean was pretty sure he was reciting from memory.

“No,” he said angrily. “But that doesn’t mean something isn’t going to to happen to me!”

“I don’t think indulging yourself in paranoia is going to help, Dean,” Castiel said evenly. “I think you need to sit down, maybe have a glass of water and possibly sleep a little. You know as well as I do that spells normally have short time between casting and activation. You’re simply upsetting yourself.”

“I am not paranoid,” Dean said angrily. “I’ve seen what happens with hex bags. I’ve seen people die because of them. Don’t act like you’re the authority on this!”

Castiel didn’t say anything. He looked at Dean as if he was a child, ranting and raving but completely missing the point. Dean didn’t need another reminder that Castiel was as old as creation. He knew Castiel had seen things, that he knew things, but Dean had been a hunter for almost his whole life. He’d lived things Cas only knew about in theory. He knew the dangers. Castiel was stuck here in the bunker all the time, reading the old Men of Letters research and that was all he was regurgitating to Dean now, their old research.

“You know what, Cas? I’m gonna take a nap and if I die in my sleep, you’ll be sorry,” Dean snapped.

He turned away from Castiel, clenching his hands into fists and stalked out of the room. He knew Castiel was probably rolling his eyes at him. He might even be muttering under his breath.

Castiel knew better, of course. He thought Dean was being dramatic. He thought Dean was exaggerating everything. He had no idea. Dean didn’t want to think about Sarah but he couldn’t stop. He’d promised that he and Sam would protect her and they hadn’t been able to. Castiel talked about the time lapse between spells being cast and the potency of the herbs but he’d never actually been in a situation like the one Dean had been in with Sarah.

Castiel hadn’t seen how quickly a life could slip away and how powerless one could be to stop it.

Dean stormed down the corridor to his bedroom, cursing Castiel in his thoughts and outloud. Sam had escaped somewhere and Dean had no idea where Kevin was hiding but it was for the best that they both stayed out of his way.

Castiel was driving him mad, treating everything so calmly as if Dean had just got a papercut or something. Dean would have picked a fight with anyone right then, even though it was Castiel he was angry with. He couldn’t argue with Castiel, it was like trying to argue with a brick wall, but he’d happily deflect his pent up anger at anyone who crossed his path.

He slammed open the door to his room, enjoying the noise it made as it hit the wall, then slammed it shut behind him for good measure. If anyone had been unaware that Dean was in a bad mood, they wouldn’t be now.

Dean collapsed face first onto the bed, dragging his pillow to him. He wrapped his arms around it and buried his face in the soft, clean pillow case. It smelt faintly of lavender washing powder. Someone had done the laundry while he and Sam were away. It might have been Kevin or it could have been Castiel.

If it was Castiel, Dean wasn’t any closer to forgiving him just because he turned out to be good at domestic chores.

He wiggled about, getting comfortable and pressing his nose deeper into the lavender scent of the pillow. It was soothing, especially after all the stress of the hunt and the drive home. Dean didn’t know if Castiel was right, if he was being paranoid, but he did feel better lying down. His body ached, his limbs felt heavy and Dean realized just how tired he was. A quick nap and he’d be able to view everything in a different perspective.

He wouldn’t apologize to Castiel though. It didn’t matter if Castiel was right or not, it was the way he’d been right. Too superior. If Castiel was going to learn to be human, if he was really going to get a grip on it, then he was going to have to learn how to act when someone was hurt. He couldn’t go around putting people’s backs up constantly. He couldn't make them angry when he was supposed to be helping. He couldn’t…

Dean fell asleep thinking about Castiel. His dreams were light and unconnected. He dreamt about baseball games he played when he was a kid and about driving in the Impala, and a lot of other things that he didn’t remember. His sleep was untroubled.

He didn’t feel the changes his body was going through. There was no sudden pain. There was nothing that woke him up. Dean slumbered on as the spell took effect.

**

Dean stumbled out of bed a few hours later. He hadn’t meant to sleep for so long but the moment his head hit the pillow, he hadn’t been able to help himself. He hadn’t died in his sleep, as Castiel would probably point out, and now he wanted a shower to wash the last traces of sleep away. Grabbing a towel from the wash basket in the corner of his room, Dean padded down the hallways to the bathroom. The towel was one he’d used yesterday or the day before. It wasn’t clean but it wasn’t exactly dirty. It would do.

He still felt groggy, and his muscles protested the walk, but a good half hour under the hot spray of the bunker’s shower head would have him feeling right as rain again.

Dean opened the bathroom door, glad that it wasn’t otherwise occupied by one of the other three men he was currently sharing the bunker with, and then shut and locked it behind him. He didn’t want anyone to walk in on him unexpectedly. It wouldn’t matter too much if it was Sam, they’d lived out of each other’s pockets since they were small and Dean had seen him naked more times than he liked to remember but Cas and Kevin were a different matter.

Kevin would probably be scarred for life. Cas, Dean imagined, would just stand there, talking to Dean, as if nudity was an inconsequential thing and was above being interested in Dean’s naked body. That was one of the reasons Dean did not want Castiel to barge in on him. If Castiel caught him naked in the shower, then he wanted Castiel to be awed and silent. He wanted him to get an awkward boner like that time Dean had caught him watching porn. Maybe it was just his ego talking, but Dean thought he was a good looking man and he wanted Castiel to notice that.

He always wanted Castiel to notice. Dean wasn’t sure when exactly that had started, but he’d been aware of it since Purgatory. It had made everything clearer somehow. Dean had flirted with guys before. He’d picked up a few for one night stands but he’d never considered anyone like Cas before, someone who was so close to him. Cas got past the walls he built up and that made him dangerous.

Dean sighed, shaking his head and throwing his towel into the sink to wait for him. He could grab it easily when he stepped out of the shower.

Now his mind as full of thoughts about Cas and thoughts about sex, mingling until they became thoughts about having sex with Cas and Dean knew he was going to have to jerk off. It would help. He’d blow off some steam, enjoy a couple of rounds with his own hand and when he stepped out of the shower, he’d be able to at least be civil to Castiel.

Dean unbuttoned his shirt quickly, shrugging it off onto the floor before dragging off the t-shirt he wore underneath. He shoved his jeans down to his knees, boxers following them and that was when he saw them.

Where his cock should have been, where it had always been before, Dean was now sporting three elongated, wet looking tentacles.

Later, Dean would deny it, but the noise he let out was definitely a scream.

**

Sam banged on the bathroom door, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. Dean had locked himself in the bathroom and now he was screaming like the world was about to end. Sam knew it had to be because of the hex bag. Something was happening to his brother and Sam was about to break the door down to find out what.

“Dean! Dean can you reach the lock?” he shouted, hoping Dean could still hear him, that he hadn’t passed out. “Dean open the door!”

“No!” came the reply.

“No you can’t reach the lock or no you won’t unlock it?” Sam asked.

“No, I won’t unlock it,” Dean said and even through the wood of the door he sounded petulant.

Sam leant against the frame of the door, breathing heavily and cursing Dean silently. Whatever was happening, it couldn’t be too bad if Dean could sound like that.

“What’s wrong? I heard you scream.”

“I didn’t scream!” Dean said firmly.

“Fine, you didn’t scream,” Sam agreed, not interested in arguing over that point. “What’s happened, Dean? Why won’t you open the door?”

There was a sound on the other side of the door, the sound of footsteps and Sam stepped back as the lock clicked and the door swung open. Dean was standing there, naked. Sam opened his mouth to tell his brother to have some decency, to put on some clothes but the words died in his throat as he caught sight of the tentacles that swung heavy and indecent between Dean’s legs.

“Fuck,” he murmured.

“You see now why I didn’t want to open the door?” Dean asked.

**

Dean wished that it had been boils. He wished that he’d gone into shock. He wished a lot of things that didn’t involve Castiel kneeling between his spread thighs, poking at his newly grown tentacles as if Dean was a very interesting lab specimen.

Dean had a number of fantasies about Castiel down on his knees but none of them involved him squinting and muttering “Hmm, interesting,” to himself.

It had been Sam’s idea to get Castiel. Kevin refused to have anything to do with the whole thing and Dean didn’t blame him. If the tentacles weren’t attached to him, he’d be joining Kevin in avoiding them too. Sam had had the bright idea that Castiel might know something about the spell or a way to cure Dean. Sam had been the one who’d fetched him.

It was Castiel though who’d told Dean to sit down on his bed and spread his legs so he could get a closer look. That was definitely something Castiel had said in Dean’s fantasies, usually the ones where he wore a naughty nurse outfit and not much else, but now Dean didn’t have a dick to use. He had tentacles that seemed to have a mind of their own and kept rearing up unexpectedly to smack Cas in the face. Dean had given up apologizing for them. Castiel hadn’t stopped prodding so he’d just have to expect getting slapped a few times.

“Cas, come on,” he snapped. “Do you know what they are or not? And more importantly, do you know how to heal me?”

Castiel looked up at him.

“I already told you, Dean, I can’t heal you. I don’t have that ability any more.”

Dean scowled at him.

“I wasn’t asking you to mojo them away, I just wanted to know if you’d heard of this curse before or if you’d come across it in any of the books you’ve been plowing through since you got here.”

“Oh,” Castiel said. He wrinkled his nose and tipped his head to the side as he considered. “No, I’ve never come across something like this before. I would venture a guess that this wasn’t the intended spell or that it’s malfunctioned in some way.”

“Great,” Dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. “So we don’t know what this is or how to fix it, is that what you’re saying?”

Castiel sat back on his heels. “Sam saved the hex bag, didn’t he? I could take a look at the ingredients. I’m sure the Men of Letters will have a reference somewhere to help us with breaking a hex like this.”

“They’d better,” Dean said. “I’m not losing my dick because of any witch.”

“I’m sure you would survive,” Castiel said dryly.

“That’s because you’re a dickless angel and you don’t know anything,” Dean snarled.

He grabbed for the blanket, dragging it over his lap and obscuring his tentacles from Castiel’s view. He didn’t want Castiel poking him and treating him as if he was some kind of science experiment. He also didn’t want to deal with Castiel’s obtuseness at a time like this.

Castiel, as he had stressed enough times, had never been intimate with anyone. He didn’t understand what Dean was facing. Sex wasn’t just about the physical pleasure for Dean, although he’d certainly never complained about that part.

It was a stress relief, a way to forget his shitty life and anchor himself in something good for a few fleeting hours. It was about happy things, about enjoyment and laughter, holding someone close and feeling the moment he rocked their world. It was his escape, a moment when he got to love and be loved with no boundaries. When Dean was in bed with someone, he dropped all his pretenses, all the walls he’d put up. He felt free.

Now who was going to want to get close to him when it meant getting close to a bunch of tentacles?

Castiel looked up at him, frowning a little.

“Dean, I didn’t mean to…”

“Just go, okay, Cas?” Dean said, waving his hand in the direction of the door. “Just get out and go find out what was in the hex bag. I can’t...just leave me alone.”

Castiel stood up obediently, his footsteps shuffling on the carpeted floor. He hesitated for a moment at the door, half-turning as if he had something he wanted to say but then he reconsidered, opened the door and slipped out into the hallway.

Dean waited until he heard the door click shut to flop back on the bed, covering his face with his hands. He wanted to yell, wanted to hit something. He wanted to rip something apart with his bare hands just to get the anger out of him, but more than any of that, he wanted someone to hold him and tell him it would be okay.

There just wasn’t anyone who could do that and even if there was Dean wasn’t about to ask them.

**

Castiel hadn’t grieved the loss of his grace as much as he did now.

For the most part, he had adjusted to humanity well. It was easier than he’d thought it would be, especially living in the bunker. There was always someone on hand to answer his questions. Dean had taken it upon himself to be Castiel’s teacher in the ways of humanity, but when he wasn’t around Kevin or Sam filled in.

Castiel missed certain things. He missed the ease of being an angel - missed how quickly he could fly from place to place, missed never feeling hungry and never being cold - but he also enjoyed those new experiences. He felt he understood Dean better, now he had learned first hand what it felt like to be human.

Until today that was. Now, he wasn’t sure he understood Dean at all.

He tried to help Dean, tried to set his mind at ease and Dean only got madder. Everything Castiel tried to do to calm him down just made him worse. He was completely infuriating, but Castiel was determined not to rise to him. He could deal with Dean’s temper. What he worried about, what he feared, was that Dean hated him because Castiel couldn’t undo this curse.

If he still had his grace, it wouldn’t have been any trouble. He could have found to witch who cursed Dean. He could have burned the dark magic out of Dean’s body. He could have done so many things but he didn’t have that power anymore. Castiel had always feared that Dean saw him as a tool, as someone to clean up his messes and heal him when he was sick. Castiel had made it perfectly clear that he couldn’t do that anymore, and he’d thought Dean understood, but Dean hadn’t been cursed then.

Now Castiel didn’t know what to think.

He rubbed at his eyes, frowning to himself. He could feel how tired he was. It seeped into his bones, making him want to drag himself off to bed but he couldn’t, not until he finished. He’d told Dean that he’d inspect the hex bag, that he’d work out what was in it and try to research possible curses. It was the least he could do, without his grace to help him.

Castiel knew that it was fruitless to wish, that he couldn’t return his stolen grace simply by willing it, but he found himself falling into that very human trap of hoping. He hoped, against hope, that he could find some slither of grace left in him to keep himself awake.

He wanted to help Dean and he could have helped him so much better if he’d still be an angel.

**

There was a knock on his door and Dean groaned.

It was past midnight. He wanted to sleep, or at least try to sleep. He hadn’t been able to, but there was nothing else he could think of to do. He couldn’t chase down the witch. He had no idea where to start and he knew that the tentacles that hung limply between his legs now might only be the start of the curse. Something else could happen and that thought weighed heavy on his mind as he tossed and turned. Sleeping was at least a good idea, but Dean couldn’t relax enough to let it happen. All the same, he didn’t want someone interrupting him.

There was another knock and Dean growled, rolling out of bed and stalking over to the door. He pulled it open and peered out into the hallway. He had his light off, but the hallway was brightly lit and the light seemed to cast an angelic glow around where Castiel stood.

“What do you want?” Dean asked tiredly.

“Can I come in?” Castiel asked. “I’ve been looking at the hex bag that witch threw at you.”

Dean nodded, taking a step back.

“Uh, yeah, come in,” he said, reaching for the light switch to flick it on.

If Castiel had found how to cure him, or at least had an idea of where to start, then Dean wanted to hear it. He didn’t care how late it was. He shut the door behind Castiel and stood quietly, looking at him, waiting for Castiel to explain just what it was he’d found.

“I took the hex bag apart. As I suspected, the ingredients are old. They’re not as potent as they once were and it affected the spell. I believe it was originally an metamorphosis spell, and a powerful one, but the fact that the herbs lacked potency meant you’ve only partly transformed.”

Dean waited, certain that Castiel had to have something else to tell him, but Castiel showed no sign of continuing.

“Yeah, and?” he prompted. “You didn’t wake me up in the middle of the night just to tell me you’d done some research, right?”

“Where you asleep?” Castiel asked.

Dean sighed angrily. “That’s not the point, Cas. Do you know how to cure this or am I going to be stuck this way? If the herbs aren’t potent, it should just wear off over time, right? And then I’ll go back to being normal?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel said slowly. “As I said, the spell is powerful. Even though the herbs used to cast it aren’t as fresh as they should be, the magic is still strong. It might fade, but it could take a few months.”

“A few months?” Dean said incredulously. “That’s the only answer you’ve got? It might take a few months?”

“I was trying to find out what was wrong with you. I didn’t want to rush to a conclusion and do something foolhardy,” Castiel said.

His jaw was clenched and Dean knew he had to be tired too. There were dark circles under Castiel’s eyes and he looked like he needed sleep even more than Dean did. His usual calm was slipping as humanity overtook.

“So basically, you’ve got nothing, then?” Dean said bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That’s not true, Dean. I’ve got an idea of where to start and this curse isn’t that bad…” Castiel started, but Dean cut him off angrily.

He wouldn’t listen to Castiel telling him how easy he had it when Castiel wasn’t the one who was cursed. Castiel hadn’t suddenly grown tentacles, the kind of body parts that the things Dean hunted generally had.

“How can you say that? How can you even stand to look at me?” Dean asked angrily. “I look like a monster.”

Castiel flinched.

“You are not a monster,” he said, taking a step towards Dean. “Don’t ever say that about yourself. This happened to you but it does not make you a monster.”

“I have tentacles, Cas. I don’t think I’m exactly passing for human at the moment.”

“That doesn’t make you a monster. It’s just the spell,” Castiel said patiently. He was standing close to Dean now, personal space abandoned. “Sam and I will solve this.”

“And what if you don’t? Do you really think any girl is going to stick around with a guy who’s got a tentacle dick?”

Dean enjoyed the blush that flared up in Castiel’s cheeks. He knew he shouldn’t have, but he wanted to rile Cas up. He wanted Castiel understand that this wasn’t something he could just accept. Dean didn’t want to hide away, waiting for a possible cure. Castiel was being so calm about all of this and it was driving him mad. He wanted Castiel to react in some way, not just look at him calmly as if growing tentacles was something that happened to everyone at sometime or another and Dean was being hysterical about it.

“Well, Cas,” he repeated, stepping closer to the other man, crowding into any last bit of space Castiel had left. “What do you think? I should just whip it out, right? Someone’s got to go for that, don’t they? I’ve seen some kinky shit on the internet.”

Castiel looked even more flustered now. His eyes were wide, searching Dean’s face almost fearfully and he was breathing hard. Sex had always been the button Dean pushed when he wanted to see a reaction from Castiel and today wasn’t any different.

“What about you, Cas? How would you feel if I just pulled it out right now? If it doesn’t make me a monster, then there’s no problem, right?” he growled, knowing that there was a line and that he was dancing close to it.

He’d never been able to stop at just teasing, had always gone further than he should with Castiel. He’d always made it personal, always dragged both of them into it. It wasn’t just about sex but about the sex they could be having.

Dean didn’t think Castiel was even aware of what he was doing. He didn’t think Cas knew about all the subtle, long looks or the way he subconsciously licked his lips when looking at Dean. He didn’t think Cas understood what that meant. He wasn’t human, he didn’t know about body language. He just drove Dean wild and went on his merry way, unaware that Dean wanted him.

“What about it, Cas?” he asked, keeping his voice low, the question mocking, maybe even cruel. “Ever wondered what it would feel like to get fucked by tentacles?”

Castiel’s eyes widened fearfully. The color drained from his face.

“Dean…”

Dean stepped back, shaking his head. He’d gone too far. He knew it. He was in that kind of mood and now he’d crossed the line. He didn’t want to hear that Castiel was sorry. He didn’t want to hear that Castiel didn’t like him that way. He didn’t want to hear any of it. He already hated his body, hated the changes that had happened to him. He didn’t need to know that Castiel found them disgusting as well.

“Just go, Cas. I don’t want your pity and I don’t want your apologies. I know I’m a freak, you don’t have to tell me,” he snapped.

Castiel grabbed hold of his arm, holding him in place. The last thing Dean wanted was to share the same air as Castiel, to be forced to listen to some half-baked platitudes but that wasn’t what Castiel had in mind. Instead, he pressed his lips against Dean’s in an ungraceful, wet kiss. It was quick, awkward and over far too quickly.

Castiel pulled away, breathing heavily, leaving Dean stunned.

“What…?”

“I do want to know,” Castiel said, his earnest eyes fixed on Dean. His grip on Dean’s arm tightened and he flushed again. “I can’t stop thinking about it, about you. I would want you however you came, Dean. I have always wanted you.”

Dean swallowed. His mouth was dry and for once he was lost for words.

Castiel pulled away from him, letting his hand drop down.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know that I’m not what you like. I know that I’m not a woman and I can’t make you happy, but I can’t help how I feel. I’ve tried to stop feeling it. I have. Human emotions are upsetting and I don’t know how to deal with them. I’ll try harder to stop it.”

He turned away and Dean had the presence of mind to drag him back. He was shocked but he wasn’t about to let Castiel walk away, not when Cas had just admitted to wanting him. Not when he’d all but come out and told Dean he loved him.

How many years had they been dancing around this issue? How many years had they been invading each other’s personal space, dropping hints? Dean didn’t know if he could believe it. It seemed too good to be true, that Castiel could really be interested in him. It had to be a lie because Castiel wasn’t just interested in him, he was still interested in him despite the fact that Dean was now sporting tentacles for genitals.

“Dean,” Castiel said, looking up at Dean, waiting for him to say something or do something, and Dean finally found his voice.

“You should have told me before,” he said, loosening his grip, stroking his fingers over Castiel’s shoulder. “You aren’t….I don’t fucking care who you are, Cas. I want you, too.”

Castiel looked so hopeful that Dean couldn’t stand the fact that there was a distance between them any longer. He pulled Castiel to him and kissed him. This time he made sure that the kiss was slow. He gave Castiel time to back away, to rethink his choice but Castiel only wrapped his arms around him and pressed closer.

Dean wondered if Castiel really meant it when he said the tentacles didn’t bother him. Dean didn’t know if he wanted to stop at kissing. He’d been keeping everything bottled up for so long and now Castiel was here, kissing him with an innocence that was addictive and Dean didn’t ever want to stop. He wanted to carry Castiel to bed, strip him out of his baggy clothes and show him just what he could do. Dean was even pretty sure he’d be able to do some spectacular things with his tentacles if Castiel was okay with it.

“What do you want, Cas?” he asked. “We’ll do what you want.”

“Everything,” Castiel said, looking up at him with an unblinking certainty that took Dean’s breath away.

Dean groaned, partly frustrated and partly turned on. ‘Everything’ conjured up a lot of nice images for him. There were so many things he wanted to do to Castiel, so many ways he wanted to love him, but he didn’t know if Castiel’s image of everything matched up to his own.

“More description, Cas,” he muttered, kissing him again. “I need to know in detail.”

“I want you to undress me, and yourself, then I want you to fuck me, Dean.”

“And the tentacles aren’t a problem?” Dean asked, nuzzling Castiel’s cheek, peppering kisses along Castiel’s jaw. Castiel hadn’t shaved that morning and Dean like the prickle of his stubble against his lips.

He could feel Castiel’s breathing speed up, could feel the way he reacted to the question, growing hard in his pants.

“They’re not a problem,” Castiel clarified.

Dean tugged him towards the bed, grinning. He planned to show Castiel a bit more than just straight out fucking. He was going to introduce Castiel to foreplay and show Castiel just what his body could do. Dean found himself wondering if Castiel had ever masturbated. Castiel hadn’t known what to do when he’d got a boner watching porn. Dean didn’t think he’d had the chance to get any more experience since he lost his grace. All of this could be virgin territory for Castiel, quite literally. Dean had always prefered people with experience, but when it came to Castiel, it didn’t matter. Dean looked forward to being the first.

“You ever touched yourself, Cas?” he asked, hooking his fingers under Castiel’s t-shirt, dragging it up and over Castiel’s head. “Ever made yourself come?”

Castiel shook his head slowly, a glint of frustration showing on his face.

“I’ve been hard. You’re very stimulating, Dean, even when you don’t mean to be, but I’ve never been able to make myself come. I’ve tried but it just hurts eventually.”

Dean nodded in understanding. Castiel might have a pretty high tolerance or he might have been doing it wrong, but either way, Dean could help him. He wished now that he’d thought about telling Cas about masturbation, about showing him what to do, but it hadn’t been one of the things Dean had considered. He’d make sure Castiel knew now.

“I’ll make you feel good, Cas, don’t worry. We’ll work out what you like.”

“I know you will,” Cas said.

He looked at Dean with complete trust. Dean had never been able to get over how Castiel constantly put his faith in him. He believed in Dean, in what Dean said and Dean was damned if he was going to let him down. Castiel was going to get a first time to remember.

He hastily unbuttoned Castiel’s pants, eager to get him naked. Later, he’d spend time just kissing Cas, stroking him through his clothes and getting him to the edge with just that, but not now. They both needed more than that. Castiel had asked for naked so that was what Dean was going to give him. He pushed Castiel’s pants down, smiling at the white boxers Castiel was wearing. They were too big for him and Dean wondered if Castiel had stolen them from Sam or him.

“We’re gonna get you some proper underwear,” he said, twanging at waistband. “Something to show off that tight ass of yours.”

Castiel nodded breathlessly, pushing his hips forward and Dean slipped his hand inside Castiel’s boxers, wrapping it around Castiel’s hard cock. He gave his cock a few slow strokes, wrapping his free arm around Castiel to hold him close so Castiel could lean against him for support. He could feel the way Castiel trembled.

“This what you wanted, Cas?” he asked.

“Yes,” Castiel murmured, pressing his face into Dean’s shoulder. “It feels better when you do it.”

“I’m going to do a lot more,” Dean promised. “I’m going to make you feel so good, Cas. You’re gonna see stars.”

He reluctantly unwrapped his fingers from around Castiel’s cock, turning his head to hush Castiel with a kiss when he started to complain.

“Want to get you on that bed, Cas”, he murmured against Castiel’s mouth.

Castiel enthusiastically helped Dean to strip down to his underwear then Dean paused, watching as Castiel wiggled out of his own pair big boxers, standing naked before him. Castiel looked so beautiful, his body firm and toned like a runner's. Dean wanted to kiss him all over. He wanted to start at his ankles, kiss up his calves and knees, spread his thighs and kiss along the inside of them, before he turned Castiel over and slide his tongue inside Castiel’s tight little hole. He wanted to worship Castiel, make him come over and over again until he was blissful and satisfied.

Looking at Castiel, at how beautiful he was, stilled Dean’s hand on the waistband of his boxers.

Dean was a monster. When he took his boxers off, he wouldn’t be able to hide it any more. Castiel might say he was okay with his tentacles, but he hadn’t been looking at them when he said that. Dean wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t change his mind once Dean was naked.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked, tilting his head to the side inquisitively. “I thought we were going to bed.”

“We are,” Dean said, taking a deep breath. “Hey, Cas, you ever had a blow job? I promise you, it feels amazing.”

“I’m sure it does,” Castiel said hesitantly. “But I thought you were going to fuck me.”

“Yeah,” Dean murmured. “Just...I won’t be angry with you if you don’t want me to, Cas. You can always change your mind. You know that, right?”

Castiel nodded, a little confused frown appearing on his lips. Dean took another deep breath and pushed his boxers down.

“It’s okay if you don’t like them,” he said, staring down at his tentacles with wary trepidation.

They were engorged, looking slick and wet. Dean wouldn’t blame Castiel if he didn’t want to look at them or touch them.

“Is that what’s worrying you?” Castiel asked. He dropped to his knees, and before Dean could stop him, pressed a kiss to one of his tentacles. “I find them very erotic, Dean. You don’t need to worry about them.”

“Cas,” Dean moaned, reaching down to stroke his fingers over the crown of Castiel’s head. He didn’t know how he’d got so lucky.

A moment later, his eyes rolled back in his head as Castiel took the tip of one of his tentacles - the fat middle one - in his mouth, sucking softly. He hadn’t expected Castiel to be that enthusiastic. He couldn’t completely believe that Castiel was on his knees now, sucking at his tentacles with such earnestness. He looked down at Castiel, groaning as he saw the tentacle disappearing into Castiel’s willing mouth.

He pressed his hips forward, feeding more of his tentacle into Castiel’s mouth. He couldn’t get a enough of Castiel like this. The two smaller tentacles moved, gripping at Castiel’s cheeks, holding his face steady so Dean could fuck his mouth. Castiel gazed up at him, sucking rhythmically but without any finesse. His mouth was red and stretched wide around the tentacle, and as Dean pressed forward again, he saw tears gather in the corners of Castiel’s eyes. He moved to pull away but Castiel grabbed his hips, stopping him.

“Is this okay, Cas?” Dean asked, breathlessly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Castiel made a pleased, positive sound around the thickness of the tentacle in his mouth and nodded his head, taking a little more of its full length. Castiel might not have any tricks when it came to this, he might be completely new to it, but what he lacked in skills, he made up for in willingness. Dean fucked his mouth, moving with abondon, completely lost in how good it felt.

He could have stayed like that forever, fucking that pretty, pliant mouth, but that wasn’t what Castiel had said he wanted. Dean wanted to give Castiel the first time he deserved, wanted to do everything Castiel had told him he wanted. He knew now that Castiel wasn't going to reject him, that he wouldn't have second thoughts about Dean. Castiel liked him exactly as he was - tentacles or no tentacles - and that was all that Dean needed to hear.

“Come on, Cas,” he murmured, slipping his fingers under Castiel’s jaw and easing him back.

Castiel sighed as Dean’s tentacle slipped from between his swollen lips, looking up at Dean in confusion as if he didn’t know why they’d stopped. Dean caught his breath, unable to believe how beautiful Castiel looked down on his knees. He knew Castiel would have been happy to stay there, would have been happy to keep sucking him, but there were so many other things that he’d be equally happy to do. He couldn’t wait to get Castiel on the bed, couldn’t wait to finger him open and find out what kind of noises Castiel made.

“Did I do something wrong?” Castiel asked.

“What? No.” Dean shook his head quickly. He held his hand out for Castiel to grab, pulling the other man to his feet. “You were great. I just wanted to return the favor.” He licked his lips, looking Castiel up and down. He couldn’t wait to taste him, to find out if Castiel’s skin would be salty or sweet. He needed to know if he’d taste the way he smelt, all fresh and new.

Dean moved towards the bed, pulling Castiel gently by the hand. He sat down, feeling the mattress dip under his weight. A moment later, Castiel joined him, glancing nervously at Dean.

“I’ve thought about this so much,” he said.

“It’s going to feel better than you ever thought,” Dean promised, cupping his cheek and moving to kiss Castiel softly. He expected there to be a taste, something fishy left behind by the tentacles but all he could taste was the mint of Castiel’s toothpaste and something earthy but not unlikeable. “You tell me what you like and what you don’t. I only want you to enjoy yourself.”

“Dean...”

“Don’t worry about me,” Dean said quietly. “Getting you off is going to get me off. I need to see you happy, Cas. I need to make you happy.”

Castiel drew in a deep breath, his pupils dilating.

“Okay,” he said, his voice lower than it had been before, rougher sounding.

Dean kissed him again, letting go of his fears for good. All there was now was the two of them and this bed. He had been waiting for this for so long, spending nights with his own hand and frustrated desires. He wasn’t about to stop touching Castiel now he had the chance.

Dean ran his hands gently down Castiel’s sides, enjoying the feel of him, mapping him out. Castiel was strong, his body muscular but not anywhere near as developed as Dean’s. When Castiel had had angel strength behind him, it had been different, but now Dean was the strongest of the two of them. Dean loved knowing that, loved knowing that he could probably pick Castiel up. A whole vistour of possibilities presented themselves to him - shower sex, Cas pressed up against the tiles and Dean grounding him as he fucked him nice and slow. Or Cas with his legs wrapped around Dean’s waist, the bunker wall their only support as Dean slammed into him.

Dean broke the kiss and dropped his hands lower, skimming them lightly across Castiel’s thighs and then back up, over his hips, more force behind his movements now. He guided Castiel down, hovering over him as he tried to decide what to do next, where to touch him.

Experimentally, he dipped his head, lapping over one of Castiel’s nipples. He felt Castiel stiffen, heard his breathing turn shallow. Dean brought his hand up to play with the other nipple, tweaking it and rubbing it. Castiel moaned now, moving so he could rub against Dean, his cock hard and heavy pressed up against Dean’s leg.

Dean moved down his body, alternatively kissing and sucking, leaving little red marks on Castiel’s skin. He loved the look of them on Castiel, loved knowing he was the one who put them there. All of it felt right. Even when the tentacles twitching between his legs, it still felt right. He had Castiel in his bed, Castiel who was naked and hard, aching for Dean’s touch and there was nothing better.

He kissed down Castiel’s stomach, hearing Castiel laugh - low and throaty - and nuzzled his way down the trail of dark hair that led to Castiel’s cock. Dean hadn’t sucked a lot of cock in his life. He was usually on the receiving end, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy giving. He thought he could learn to spend more time on his his knees if it was for Castiel. He kissed along the length of Castiel’s cock, enjoying the way Castiel jerked forward involuntarily and how he moaned. He traced back down to the base of Castiel’s cock with his tongue, feeling how Castiel’s legs trembled, and how he gripped the bed sheets as if he didn’t know what else to do with his hands.

Dean wondered how far could he tease him. Castiel said he hadn’t been able to make himself come before. Dean didn’t think he was too far away from coming now. He could pull back, could try to calm Castiel down a bit but that didn’t seem fair. He wanted Castiel to know what an orgasm felt like, wanted to see him overwhelmed by it. Dean knew he could get him hard again. He wasn’t worried about that. There was a risk that Castiel might be too tired for more, might want to rest, but Dean could live with that. They didn’t need to do everything now, no matter how much he wanted to.

He licked a long strip up Castiel’s cock, looking up at him to see the expression on Castiel’s face. His eyes were shut tight, his mouth partly open as he panted, his fingers screwed up tight in the blankets. He was so close to the edge. Dean wanted to push him over, wanted to give him that.

He took the head of Castiel’s cock in his mouth, sucking softly. That was all it took. Castiel came with a sudden, choked out gasp. His hand shot out, grabbing hold of Dean’s hair, nails grazing the tender skin of his scalp. Dean didn’t care. In fact, he rather liked it. He wouldn’t mind if Castiel left scratches on him. It would be a reminder of every time they shared together, a reminder of the moments when he’d made Castiel lose control.

He swallowed down Castiel’s come, ignoring the taste. It was slightly bitter as well as salty, not Dean’s favorite taste, but not the worst either. It was a taste he thought he could grow to like. He let Castiel’s cock slip from his lips and carefully nudged Castiel’s hand away, sitting up to take a good look at his artwork.

Castiel was gasping, his eyes wide. His cheeks were flushed a pretty, dark pink. He squirmed on the bed, apparently unable to stay still. Dean sat back on his haunches, grinning at him.

“Did that feel good?” he asked.

Castiel looked up at him, his expression dazed.

“I never knew,” he murmured. “I didn’t...I didn’t understand.”

Dean smiled fondly at him. He’d guessed that was the case. Castiel had always talked about sex as if it was a chore - dirty, boring and better when it was over with. From the start, he’d wanted to prove that Castiel’s ideas about sex were wrong. He’d wanted Castiel to understand it like he did, to understand how pleasurable it was. He wanted Castiel to understand that with the right person, sex was incredible. He’d tried to get Castiel laid, tried to find proxies for Castiel, people who weren’t him but who could give Castiel a wild ride, but that had never worked. Dean got that now. It had to be him.

He was the one Castiel wanted. He was the one Castiel needed.

Dean wasn’t even sure why he’d ever thought someone else should get to see Castiel like this.

He settled down next to Castiel, stretching out beside him. Dean couldn’t stop looking at Castiel, his gaze sweeping up and down Castiel’s body. He was stunning like this.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Castiel turned his head to look at him, wiggling across the small space between them so he could wrap his arms around Dean.

“I feel good,” he said. “I feel really good. I feel calm.” He paused for a moment, pressing his lips to Dean’s collarbone, the kiss soft and fleeting. “I see now why you do it so often.”

Dean laughed, stroking his hand through Castiel’s hair.

“Are you tired?”

Castiel looked up at him, shaking his head.

“No, I want to...I want to do it again,” he said. “It felt really good, Dean.”

Dean grinned. It was a long time ago now, but he remembered what Castiel was feeling. The first time he’d made himself come, he’d known he needed to do it again. It had felt even better the first time someone else had made him come. Dean wouldn’t deny Castiel the chance to feel that again.

“I want to kiss you,” he said, not sure if Castiel would want him to.

He shouldn’t have worried. Castiel tipped his head up and pressed his lips against Dean’s. His kisses were slow, lazy and that suited Dean just fine.

He hugged Castiel tightly against him, stroking his hand up and down over Castiel’s naked back, enjoying the feeling of Castiel’s warm skin. For a few minutes, that was all they did - kissing lazily, touching each other, just learning the feel of each other’s bodies. There was none of the frustrated passion of their first kisses. This was slower, more gentle. Dean rolled his hips, rubbing against Castiel, tentacles gripping and groping at Castiel’s thighs, but there was no hurry in his movements. He just wanted to be as close to Castiel as he could be.

When he felt Castiel’s cock start to harden, Dean broke the kiss, looking at him questioningly.

Castiel nodded, smiling at him.

“I still want more, Dean,” he said. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Dean licked his lips, eyes raking up and down the expanse of Castiel’s naked body.

“Roll over, onto your stomach,” he said.

It would be easier like that and Dean wanted to make it as easy as possible for Castiel.

Castiel shuffled, rolling onto his stomach like Dean had instructed. He spread his legs and looked back over his shoulder at Dean, his whole posture inviting. Dean moved so he was straddling Castiel, his knees on either side of Castiel’s hips. His tentacles, pressed against the swell of Castiel’s ass, moved a little, seeking and rubbing at the flesh suddenly available to them.

Dean reached out with one hand, opening the bedside draw, hunting around for condoms and lube. He wasn’t sure if a condom would ever fit over one of his tentacles, but he’d try. He grabbed hold of a little foil packet and the bottle of lubricant, dragging them onto the bed within easy reach.

Castiel shifted restlessly beneath him and Dean bent his head and kissed down the curve of Castiel’s back. He liked the contented, close to purring noise Castiel made as he did so. He liked how vocal Cas was, how responsive to him. He wasn’t a screamer, but he wasn’t the kind to bite his lips and keep quiet either. Dean wanted to hear all his little noises, wanted to know how turned on and happy Cas was.

He reached for the bottle of lubricant, uncapping it and pouring a little more than he probably needed over his fingers. Dean would rather be careful than sorry when it came to Castiel’s first time. He rubbed the tip of one finger between Castiel’s spread legs, pressed against his hole. He listened carefully to the noises Castiel made, paid attention to his body, waiting for any sign of resistance but Castiel relaxed almost immediately and Dean was able to press one finger forward slowly, slipping it inside him.

He moved slowly, little and experimental, waiting for Castiel to tell him what to do.

“I like that,” Castiel mumbled. He rolled his hips back, glancing at Dean again. “You can add another one. I’m not going to break.”

“You’re not an angel anymore,” Dean said, pressing a kiss to the small of Castiel’s back. “You’ve got no idea how big it’s going to get.”

He added a second finger and felt Castiel squeeze tight around him.

“You like the idea of being filled with something big, do you?” he teased, moving his fingers deeper.

Castiel squirmed and Dean was sure his cheeks were red.

“Yes,” Castiel breathed.

Dean swallowed hard, biting his lips. His tentacles twitched, eager to bury themselves inside Castiel’s tight heat, to stretch him wide, but Dean resisted. He slid a third finger inside Castiel, smiling when Castiel moaned raggedly and pushed back against him, trying to sink them deeper.

“How do you feel?” Dean asked.

He could make Castiel come like this, fucking him with his fingers, if that was what Castiel wanted, if he was close.

“Good,” Castiel murmured. “I feel...I feel very good, Dean. I feel full.”

“Yeah? Do you want more?”

Castiel nodded his head emphatically, rolling his hips back in a desperate rhythm, trying to get Dean’s fingers deeper into him, trying to fuck himself on them. Dean eased them free slowly, laughing gently when Castiel groaned and pushed his hips up, offering himself.

“I got you, Cas,” he said, reached for the condom wrapping and tearing it open.

He tried to roll it down the biggest of the tentacles, but the condom ripped before it was halfway down.

“Fuck,” Dean cursed.

“Please, Dean, I’m not going to get hurt,” Castiel said, propping himself up on one elbow and turning to glare at Dean. “I need you inside me and I need you now. I don’t care if you’re not wearing a condom, just fuck me.”

Dean nodded, tossing the broken condom aside and reached for the bottle of lubricant instead. He poured a generous dose over the biggest of his tentacles, the middle one that Cas had kissed and sucked with such enthusiasm. The tentacle strained in his hand as he coated it, making Dean acutely aware of how desperate he was to fuck Castiel. He’d been on edge all night, but he’d focused on Castiel, on making this good for Cas. His own pleasure had been a secondary thought, but now he couldn’t ignore it.

Dean wasn’t even sure if he could come like this, but he was damn sure he needed to.

He guided the tip of his tentacle to press against Castiel’s stretched and pink hole, easing forward slowly. Castiel drew in a sharp breath, but slowly let it out, relaxing as Dean filled him. Dean hadn’t been lying when he’d said the tentacle was thicker than the three of his fingers pressed together. He stared down in awe as Castiel’s hole stretched wide, swallowing the tentacle that wiggled its way deep inside Castiel.

The other, smaller tentacles latched tight to Castiel’s cheeks, moving greedily over them, rubbing and caressing, stroking up and down. Dean focused on them, on Cas taking it all so eagerly.

“Dean,” Castiel moaned.

He pushed himself up, onto his hands and knees suddenly and the change in position had Dean slipping deeper into him. Dean couldn’t stop himself from groaning. Castiel felt amazing, so tight around him. Dean was circling close to the edge. He didn’t know what would happen, didn’t know how it would end, but he wanted to feel it. He wanted to let go.

“You good, Cas?” he panted.

Castiel moaned again, starting earnestly to try to fuck himself on the tentacle that wiggled back and forth, pressing so impossibly deep then pulling back. He was past words, past anything but moans and the instinct to open himself up to Dean. Dean had never seen Castiel so completely undone. It was gorgeous and it was all he needed to finally let go himself.

He gripped Castiel’s hips, tipped his head back and closed his eyes. The pleasure that washed over him came in wave after wave. It wasn’t like a normal orgasm but Dean knew he was squirting something sticky and wet. It was leaking from his tentacles, down over Castiel’s ass and deep inside his hole.

It took all of Dean’s self-control not to collapse on top of Castiel but to pull both of them to the side, to pull Castiel down with him. Dean didn’t know how to place the orgasm he’d just had, couldn’t link it to anything he’d felt before, but he felt good now, calm and released after it. He nuzzled Castiel’s neck, kissing along his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes,” Castiel said softly. “I just...I haven’t come yet.”

Dean nodded, reaching around to take Castiel’s cock in his hand, stroking it slowly. His tentacle was still inside Castiel, still wiggling lazily, and Castiel rocked happily between the two stimulations, his eyes half-closed and his lips parted, gasping Dean’s name until he came.

Dean wiped his hand on the blanket, then pulled Cas close to him, holding him tightly.

“That was...it was…” Castiel paused, lost for words, a smile stretching over his face.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, pressing his lips to Castiel’s shoulder. “Yeah, it was.”

“And I’m not going anywhere, Dean. I’m going to be here tomorrow and the day after. If we find a way to break this curse or not, I’m going to be here,” Castiel said.

Dean nodded. He didn’t know what to say, wasn’t sure what he could say. Castiel’s determination, his love, they were overwhelming. Dean didn’t know how to thank him and he certainly wasn’t sure he deserved everything Castiel did for him, so he did the only thing he could do.

He reached out, turning Castiel’s head and kissed him.