Castiel stood impatiently at the head of the table in the Batcave, feeling physically lost in the confines of its walls. It had been nearly a few months since he had his Grace taken, and he felt awkward in his human vessel more than ever. The man had spent years in Jimmy Novak’s body, but then he was Castiel: Angel of the Lord, and now he was just simple Castiel, a man with emotions and perhaps even more confusion when it came to the human race than before.
The man hovered for a moment longer, before walking (not teleporting mind you) down to the Winchesters’ rooms. He knew Sam had gone out on a food run, but that was no excuse for Dean to be laying about.
With his new human status, Sam and Dean had tried to teach Castiel the basics of living as a mortal. Dean had sarcastically stated that he was all too familiar with the mature aspect of being a grown man, to which Cas flushed red (because apparently, humans do that when they’re embarrassed) at the memory of the pizza man. Sam pushed Dean aside and taught him about shopping, researching, among a great deal of things. One thing Sam had successfully taught Cas, which much time and patience, was how to run a search engine and how to use it properly to find what he was looking for. It was surprising more of a challenge than he anticipated, but then again, when was something ever easy for a Winchester?
Castiel, with this new knowledge, spent his lonely hours when Sam was busy, browsing this internet for signs of the fallen. Finding his brothers and sisters and odd occurrences and investigating them had become something he was particularly good at. Not quite by himself though, seeing as neither Winchester, especially Dean, trusted him enough to learn the (what seemed to be simple) task of driving the Impala.
So here he was, in front of Dean’s room. He had found a case that screamed “fallen angel” and he wasn’t going to let this one escape their sights like the last few who, incidentally, disappeared after they had been discovered.
Now Castiel… he wasn’t completely up speed with human etiquette. Knocking was not a exception. So it came to both his and Dean’s surprise when they locked eyes after he barged into the room, going on about how they needed to leave for a case and… “Oh. I’ll leave.”
Without a moment to waste, Castiel had slammed the door shut behind him after exiting with haste. Dean had been.. touching himself. He cleared his throat at the thought, the sensation of a flushed face overwhelming him. It was natural, he thought to himself, but he wasn’t particularly expecting to walk in on Dean and his genitalia in plain sight.
“Cas!” The voice was muffled on the other side of the door, and he turned to face it as it was opened by a seemingly shocked Winchester. “I, uh, you weren’t-“
“It’s okay, Dean, it is forgotten.” What was this feeling? His palms were wet, sticky like the fabric clinging to his skin in heat at the sight of Dean’s face. Sweat dripped at his brow, and his pants were uncomfortably tight. The sensation was unique to this body in all the time he had spent in the vessel. Even the “pizza man incident” with Meg had not topped this feeling of unexplainable copious amounts of attraction pulsing through every region of his body. Whatever thoughts he had as an angel of Dean were light, not exactly pure, an attraction that phased the barrier of his mind. He was not meant to feel, yet had too much heart.
Cas’ body had finally caught up to his mind, and Dean had noticed almost instantly. His eyes had wandered and curiosity had peaked and- “Shit, I just heard Sammy come in through the front. Get in here.” Dean yanked Cas by the arm, pulling him into his room and shutting the door as softly and swiftly as he could as not to draw more attention.
“Dean? Cas?” His younger brother’s voice echoed down the hall and Dean had begun to swear under his breath again.
“We are merely discussing something, Sam. We’ll be up in a moment.” Castiel’s expression read panic, all sorts of it, and Dean attempted not to comment on it. It wasn’t the time. “Dean, I-“
“You’re attracted to me, aren’t you?” The man crossed his arms over the plaid pattern of his shirt, eyes drifting every so often.
“No I’m not!” Castiel hissed in bewilderment. The Winchester shushed him with wide eyes, shaking his head. “I just, I’m very confused Dean. I have never experienced.. this.” His voice was barely audible as he licked his bottom lip, a sign of just how uncomfortable he was.
Cas nodded, shifting onto his back leg. “I am sorry if this-“
“It’s not a big deal, Cas.” Dean took a step forward, resting his hand on the man’s shoulder. Blues met the intense green stare of his comrade, and he found himself swallowing back any emotion his body tried to urge him to feel, any action it dared him to act out.
“Dean, it’s just..” With every step Dean took forward, Castiel found himself taking one back, forcing back everything his body and mind and heart were screaming at him. This is how he grew up, no emotions and no attachments. But here he was, and Dean was so awfully close..
He could see the unsureness in the Winchester’s eyes, the way his muscles were caught between an endless cycle between tensing up and relaxing, an indicator of him knowing what he wanted and whether or not he wanted to act on it.
“I haven’t…” And Dean was kissing him, an awkward chaste kiss that led to Castiel pulling away in a fit that sent the back of his head flying into the wall with a loud thud.
“Dean!” Castiel barked, completely ignoring the fact he knew Sam was home.
“It’s not my fault you went and hit your head,” Dean muttered. He could hear Sam call to them to ask if everything was okay, and he sighed. “We’re fine! Just a few more minutes, Sammy.” It seemed like he had just made a big mistake and they’d be out of there in no time.
The fallen angel tilted his head at Dean, a perplexed look playing on his features at what appeared to be disappointment and regret plastered to man’s face. “Dean, this attraction. You, well, feel it as well?”
Dean didn’t say a word, simply clenching his jaw and remaining silent at the question. Of course he did if the kiss was any consolation, but would that even go through Cas’ think skull?
“May I take that as a yes, Dean?” His green eyes flickered up to make eye contact, saying everything his lips refused to. Yes.
And then they were kissing again, led by Castiel. He felt so lost, but not physically in the world or even a room. He felt lost in Dean, in his kiss and the way his hand fit in the crook of his back or how he cupped his cheek with a sweaty palm and none of it mattered. If he were a ship, and Dean were the sea, he’d want to sail forever.
This was the good kind of lost, he determined, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck in a manner he was sure wasn’t right. But he didn’t care, and it was the first time he felt like everything was okay in a long time.
Layers fell to the floor in loud thumps, bare flesh melting against one another in such an inexplicable manner, it sent shivers up from the base of Cas’ spine. Dean grabbed at his back, trying to pull him closer with every sloppy and perfectly crafted kiss. They were a mess because Castiel didn’t understand the concept of battling tones or biting lips but tried anyway- the feel of Dean’s lips against his was enough to deem them perfect.
Kisses and love marks were left trailing down pale necks and chests, and the tracing of the Winchester’s tattoo set him into a frenzy. With every clumsy turn and toss of their bodies, sheets tangled with their limbs and items crashed to the floor like mini earthquakes and neither of them cared.
Dean nipped at the line above Castiel’s belt and his hips bucked at the strange pleasure of his tongue tracing his exposed skin so close to the strange throbbing of his pants. He had understood the mechanics of sexual intercourse, but the interaction pushed every preconceived thought out of his mind and he was innocent again and all the educational knowledge he had of the matter had no use.
Castiel watched as Dean undid his belt with a few motions, how he tugged his pants down past his hips and looked up to him with a grin that lit up his emerald eyes with the spark of Dean he had come to know so very well.
Dean thumbed the man’s erection through fabric, finding pleasure in the gasp that escaped his (once) angel’s throat. His hands found the lining of his underwear, just about to pull them down-
“What is going on in here, I hear all these things being thrown-” Sam burst through the door, stopping dead in his tracks. “Um. Dean? Cas?”
Dean jumped out of the bed without missing a bit, pushing his brother out of the room. “How about you go buy yourself some alcohol and earplugs, and we’ll talk about this during family meeting, okay Sammy?” He shut the door on Sam, leaving him to stare blankly ahead of him in shock. It wasn’t until a moan escaped the room that he decided to march out of the Batcave and follow his older brother’s advice. It was probably going to be a long night.