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Dean and Baby are pulled off on the side of the road, parked on a turnout by a metal gate adjoining an empty field. The hunter is resting against the hood of the car, looking up at the stars scattered across the night sky.
The only sounds are of insects and a gentle wind that flows through the branches of nearby copse. Maybe there are cows in the field, but he can't see them in the inky darkness that surrounds him. Dean loves nights like these. A quick run for cigarettes and a six pack is now a stop on the road for some alone time out in the open. The only sources of light are twinkling stars, the pale half moon, and a distant city casting light on the horizon.
Sam is back at the motel, already asleep, resting after the last town they skipped out of. Dean is holding an American beer, swinging the bottle back and forth as he thinks back on the last few months. There were so many new things to take in since he made his way back topside. Angels, the apocalypse, demons, Sammy. Hell. But he's not letting himself think about his time in Hell. Dean takes another sip from his beer as looks up at the stars.
Cas. Cas is certainly new.
Dean thinks about what Cas might be doing at this moment. Fighting celestial battles, or maybe angelic accounting? Infiltrating government X-files? He could really be doing anything. Dean knew nothing about the guy, they had just met. But that wasn’t really true, they had met in Hell, before Dean had woken up buried in a coffin. If things really were predestined the way angels were saying they were, he really wished they could have skipped the theatrics of climbing out of his own grave.
Dean suddenly realized he had never properly thanked Cas for what he had done for him. Dude pulled him out of Hell, or perdition that is. Dean huffed, the guy had a way with words.
Then Dean got an idea.
He sets his beer down, clasps his hands together in prayer, straightens his shoulders, screws his eyes shut and puts on his best “holy intentions face”.
“I pray to thee Castiel, to kindly get down here if you're not uh busy I mean like if you're free.”
Dean felt more than heard fluttering next to him and the next thing he knew he was looking at Castiel, the trench coat donned angel, sitting beside him as if he had always been there.
“Hello, Dean,” greeted Cas, looking upon him with those unearthly blue eyes.
Castiel had been running errands for the angel garrison, counting ranks and collecting weapons when he heard the call from his charge, which he had decided to answer on a whim. When he arrived he was surprised to see Dean, alone in the dark with his car.
“Hey Cas, how ya been?”
“The angels are waging war against the infernal forces of Lucifer, Dean. What do you need?”
“Well I just wanted to say uh,” suddenly Dean felt kind of embarrassed but he continued.
“Thanks for pulling me out of Hell and everything. You really stuck your neck out for me. And for everything else you've done. You've really watched out for Sam and me, so uh, thanks.''
“Of course Dean, you are my charge, it was no problem.”
“Well Cas I mean you pulled me out of literal Hell, that can’t have been easy. “
Dean was now kind of annoyed that Cas was not appreciating his thanks. He was seemingly brushing off Dean’s gratitude like it meant nothing to him.
”You have no idea- I mean you saved me when I thought I was never getting out.” Dean didn't want to remember Hell right now. But he needed the angel to understand he meant it. He didn’t thank a guy everyday.
“It was difficult, yes, but it was all in the aim of saving you, and that made it worth all the risk.”
And there he goes, saying things like that to him. All while staring at him with a gaze that was piercing into his soul. And the worst part was that Dean felt no judgment, just pure… something.
“Huh, well that's another thing …”
“What, Dean?”
“You're always saying stuff like that. Staring at me, looking at me like…”
Cas now looked more confused, his brow furrowed, but Dean went on. He suddenly realized how close they were sitting together. Dean had another idea.
Dean slapped on a grin and stood up from the car.
“Hey, can a guy get you a beer?”
“Sure, Dean. I have no need to imbibe but I'm aware that this is a sign of bonding.”
Yeah, that. Totally not blatant flirting. Dean grabbed a sort of cold beer from the cooler and handed it to Cas. Dean watched as the angel took a swig from his beer, observing him as his lips met the lip of the bottle as he knocked it back.
“So Cas, how do you like being on earth? “
“It’s fine. It's not exactly new to me but there are certainly things I'm finding novel.”
“Like what?”
“Beer for one. It's… bitter?”
“Yeah, it is huh.” Dean chuckled.
“There’s something else we can try, if you want.”
“Like what, Dean?”
Dean brings his hand to cover Cas’s own hand that is resting on the hood of the car. Casual. As if touching him didn’t make his skin light on fire. He almost can’t bring himself to, but he needs to know. Dean leans in closer.
“I've seen the way you look at me,” he says softly. Dean manages to look up into Cas’s eyes by tilting his head slightly, attempting to communicate what he can’t put into words.
Cas’s eyes were suddenly wider and he wasn't looking as stoic and robotic as usual. Good, thinks Dean.
“Do you want to try something with me that humans do, when they like each other?”
“Well, I do like you. What is it?”
“Kissing?”
“Yes.”
Dean is surprised by Cas's willingness but doesn't question it. He leans in and presses his lips to the angel, letting his chest and hip press against the other figures' stiff upright posture. Castiel doesn’t exactly return the kiss, but Dean definitely feels the other's body lean slightly into his. Definitely not a rejection.
“How was that?” asks Dean expectantly.
“You are my charge, Dean. This has to be inappropriate.” He sounds slightly out of breath and keeps failing to avert his gaze from Dean’s lips. Dean thinks it’s cute, but he can’t tell him that. Good, not so stoic now is he?
“You want me, and that’s okay. Who cares what those asshat angels think. Think of it like the movie the Bodyguard.’” Dean realized he would be Whitney in this situation but he doesn’t care, because Cas doesn’t care.
Dean was now struggling to keep up his momentum from that admittedly really nice kiss and Cas has not moved away so Dean leans in again, kissing Cas and hoping to feel the other respond. Cas does this time, moving into Dean and kissing him back now, turning towards the hunter and relaxing into the kiss. Ok this is good, Dean thinks. They exchange more kisses like that on the Impala’s pitch-black chassis.
“Cas, I want to show you something else.” Cas nods wordlessly. Dean thinks briefly of Anna. But Anna was human. This was definitely something entirely different.
Dean moves the cooler into the trunk while Cas moves to sit in the back seat. Dean joins Cas, shutting the car door behind him. The Impala's suspension squeaks slightly and rocks as they adjust their weight on the broad back bench.
Cas can only stare, speechless. Dean was now entering the Impala and shutting the car door, and all he could do was stare. Cas's vision adjust to the darkness in the car’s interior. Shadows cast by the moonlight only serve to accentuate Dean's features, and he thought that even in this low light Dean emitted a sort of glow, his features sharp and dangerous, yet there was a betrayal of softness in his lips and in the curve of his cheeks. Castiel couldn't identify what these thoughts meant, but he knew that they meant trouble.
Dean, noticing that the angel is frozen, interrupts his thoughts and says,
“Here Cas, I want to make this easy for you.”
Dean places his hands on Castiel's thighs and straddles his lap, his head tilted to fit in the car, their faces now impossibly close together. Cas could see the glint in Dean's eyes and a flirty smirk form on his face. He was beautiful and Cas couldn't stop staring up at him.
“I'm gonna show you a good time, okay? Y’know, for everything you've done for us.”
“Dean this is not required of you, I am simply assigned to watch over you and your brother, I am not inclined to advance any sort of relationship with you-”
Dean moves slightly away from the closeness he had been to the angel's face, his expression one of frustration.
“Ok well then stop fucking undressing me with your eyes when ever you fucking materialize into my life, man what the hell.”
“I'm not entirely sure what you are talking about-”
“Well you’re making me feel stupid is all.”
“Dean-”
“Fine, whatever-”
Cas puts his hand behind Dean's neck and pulls him in, kissing him the way Dean had before, pressing his lips gently against his and opening his mouth slightly, Dean gets over his surprise and is now kissing back. He has to admit this feels better than he was expecting. Cas’s lips are soft and he could feel the slight scratch of his stubble against lips which he actually liked, a lot.
But more than that he liked being this close to the angel. He didn't know what it was but something felt easy doing this. Maybe it was the fact that he never seemed to judge him. He had a weird way of looking right through him and seeing how he felt. He had to admit it kind of creeped him out, but only because he worked so hard to not let people see how he was actually feeling, which these days he wasn’t exactly great at.
The kisses were starting to get more heated and Dean could feel Cas start to press up into him, asking for more. The two were letting their hands explore each other, and Cas starts to move his hands up and under Dean's shirt. Without breaking the kiss Dean tries to push Cas’s coat off. The angel moves to remove his trench coat, suit jacket and tie, while Dean lifts his black shirt over his head, his amulet bumping against his bare chest. Cas is transfixed by the ways Dean's eyelashes flutter and the rise and fall of his chest and the way his amulet catches in the moonlight.
They both glance at each other, Cas staring up at Dean, taking in every feature. Cas couldn't help but admire this man, a single human being so full of compassion.
Cas knew what sex was, but he also knew that this is what some humans would call making love. Out of thousands of angels he was the one pinned under the gaze of a beautiful righteous man. This was someone choosing to hold him tenderly.
If the angels were to ask Cas of the source of divinity, Cas would tell them to look no further for in that moment Castiel had found his salvation in the deep pools of light reflected in Dean Winchester's eyes.
With Dean's shirt off Cas can see the scar on Dean’s right shoulder. Dean sees Cas looking and looks away. Cas moves to touch the scar. But before he does he instead lets his hand rest slightly below it, unable to touch.
“Dean I'm sorry I did this to you, I did not know it would leave such a mark. If you want I could remove it for you-”
“No man, it's a reminder. Also, chicks dig scars”
“Of a hand print.”
Dean smirks, “yeah.”
Dean chuckles and grinds playfully into the angel's lap, happy to see the response he gets and he moves to explore more of Cas's body with his hands.
Dean notices how Cas stares up at him like he had a spotlight on him. He should feel unworthy, but instead he feels something tight in his chest opening up, something soft and light. Quickly he reminds himself why he was here. He’s showing Cas a good time while he’s visiting earth, to forget about all this Hell and Heaven stuff.
Not wanting to spend too long away from each other, Dean leans in again and the two are making out, this time Dean wastes no time as Cas moves his hands over Dean’s back, unconsciously feeling over every freckle he had delicately placed there. He was now kissing Dean's neck as the man unbuckled Cas’ belt, opening his zipper and moving his hand into his briefs. Dean whimpers at how good Cas’s lips feel against his neck, and soon he hears Cas groan as he frees the angel's erection from his pants.
Dean looks down and gets lightheaded from the sight of the angel undone underneath him. His button up shirt is half undone, his hair is all spiked up, and his untucked shirt is revealing a tan midriff with a happy trail leading to a generous cock that’s bobbing against a toned stomach and dark pubes.
“Dean, you are my charge, I can't ask this of you, I'm not supposed to,” Cas pants. Dean could swear the guy was almost blushing, how could someone so composed become so flustered?
Dean ignores him with a huff, opting to put his hands up to Cas’s chest and push him up against the leather bench. Dean feels both of Cas’s strong hands grip tight on his hips, and he can feel his own erection hardening against his jeans that were starting to get uncomfortably tight.
“I want this, Cas, don’t worry. I'm going to show you something now that's going to feel really good.”
Dean unzips his own jeans, freeing himself and positioning himself so he’s sitting and lined up with Cas’ heat. Dean grips both so that they are lined up together, feeling the hot pulse of Cas’ hard length against his own feels incredible, their combined sweat allowing for enough movement to add needed friction. Cas’s own hands are occupied by squeezing Dean's ass and thighs, holding on as if for dear life. Clearly he’s allowing Dean to take charge and by all means Dean can oblige. He swipes his thumb over the sensitive head of Cas’ cock and smears the precum using his other hand to grip tightly at the base and pull up. The combined sensations have Cas tensing and bucking up. Dean's own chest and neck are flushed pink. It's just a handjob but they're both trembling from tension and arousal.
Dean can’t stop himself, he knows its borderline romantic, which he knows only ends in heartache for him, but he wants to chase this feeling.
He leans forward and gives Cas a deep intimate, exploring kiss, his occupied hand keeping them close together so Cas thrust into his grip. Dean's free hand takes Cas’s hand a holds it, figers interlaced on the Impala's bench seat.
Cas chased these new sensations as he held Dean's hand and felt arousal overwhelm him. Hands that should be used for battling in raging wars in the name of his heavenly father were now grabbing and touching his charge, this being of earth. A voice that could command thousands of heaven's soldiers and strike fear into enemies when boomed over a battlefield was now pleading, gasping, coming undone from a man’s touch and he heard himself choking out a cry into Dean's ear.
Cas finishes, his hand gripping at the short hairs at Dean's nape, not even stopping kissing him. Dean breaks the kiss, lets go and breathes hard, not even caring that he didn’t notice when he came, just that there’s an angel wrecked underneath him. Cas's pupils blown out and hair and undone shirt collar stuck to his skin with sweat.
And then those big blue eyes are staring up at him “Dean-” he leans into Dean's swollen spit covered lips and gives him a firm kiss. No sooner had the kiss broken, Castiel vanished in a shift of wing flutter, and Dean is alone again.
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Years later, after the fighting was all over, they would turn to each other and laugh at the first time they had shared each other's company and remember it fondly, reminiscing at how unsure they were but also how obvious it was that it must have been love.