Dean startled awake at the faint flutter of wings. His hand was on his gun before his eyes were open.
“Dean. You know that will not affect me.”
Cas’s face was about two inches from his own. Great. Wake up in the middle of the night to an Angel in his bed. Didn’t he realize what that kind of thing did to a guy? Dean spent his entire life on a hair trigger, and it did not help to have an overgrown baby just appearing and disappearing at random.
He put the gun down. “Cas. What’s up?”
“I wished to speak with you. There is something I would discuss with you.”
“Okay, shoot.” There was no way of knowing whether this was an important something or not. Cas had the strangest sense of priorities. Not to mention a complete lack of understanding about human social norms and what something like appearing in someone’s bed in the middle of the night might mean to a mortal.
“I was speaking with Balthazar, and he…insinuated that I might…”
“Spit it out, Cas. You wanted to talk about this.” Balthazar had probably been being sarcastic anyway. Cas just didn’t get the concept of not meaning what you say.
“He said I was in love with you.” The Angel looked confused by this, and Dean couldn’t tell if that was because it didn’t fit with what he felt or because it did.
He realized then that Cas himself probably didn’t know. “Oh, Cas.”
“I do not understand what he meant.”
“Well, are you in love with me?” Dean asked, and then shook his head. “Never mind, you wouldn’t know it even if you…”
“I think of you as more important than any other human. I…care about you more than I do about anyone else I’ve ever met.”
This was not a good conversation to be having at midnight in a bed. Especially since he was on a case by himself while Sam recovered from a concussion at Bobby’s, meaning that for once he had a bedroom to himself. This was probably not a good conversation to be having at all, really. An Angel with a male vessel, who was extremely naïve and impressionable, in his bed, at night, asking Dean to tell him if he was in love with Dean. Only Cas…
“Well, do you want to, I don’t know, be with me?” And, a better question, did he want to be with him? If you’d asked him any other time the answer would have been a quick no, but right now he wasn’t completely sure. There was something so thoroughly endearing about the total lack of worldly knowledge Cas possessed, despite the fact that he was as old as life. And no one could deny that he was good-looking. And there was something about him that…so, yes. Oh, hell…
Cas was looking away, also thinking. “I would rather be with you than not.”
“Fuck, Cas, what kind of an answer is that?” A literal one, he supposed.
“I do not know. I have never felt like this before.”
“Well, what do you want to do?” He sure as hell wasn’t going to force anything.
“I’d like you to show me…”
Dean sighed and shifted so their faces were almost touching. “What do you want to do, right this instant?”
“Touch you…” the Angel’s breath was in his mouth as they closed the distance and brought their lips together.
They were tangled up, pressed against each other, and Cas’s trench coat was on the floor before it seemed like any time had passed. “Cas, Cas, wait.” Dean was breathing heavily when he pulled away. How could he not think he wanted this? But he needed to be sure this was what Cas wanted.
The Angel stopped moving at his words.
“Is this what you want, Cas? Don’t you have some sort of mandate in Heaven against ‘men laying with other men’ or some such crap?”
“Your bible gets more wrong than it does right. My Father was indifferent to sexual orientation. If sex comes out of love, then it is right.” He leaned forward slightly. “Was that all? May I kiss you again?”
Dean smiled. “Yes, I think so.”
The words were barely past his lips before Cas’s covered them, and dean was swept away by the sheer passion in that second kiss. Cas didn’t do anything by halves, did he? His leg wrapped around the Angel’s hip without his conscious instruction. ‘Wake up and smell the epiphany, Dean,’ he thought to himself, ‘I guess you’re not as straight as you thought.’
Cas had discarded his tie, and was working on the buttons of his shirt. “I…want you?” his words came out like a question.
“Well, I certainly can’t deny that I want you.” God, he was kissing an Angel, an Angel, and he was incredibly hard. An Angel. (a male-bodied Angel). Oh, joy. His life, on its head. Again.
“Good,” the aforementioned Angel growled, yanking Dean’s t-shirt over his head. “Let me inside you…”
“Whatever you want.”
“I want to lose my virginity with you.”
“Stop talking, Cas, and get out of those pants!”
They were both new at this (although Dean was a lot more familiar with the genre), and there was a fair amount of awkward fumbling (and lube acquiring) before Cas finally slid a finger inside of Dean. The man gasped as it brushed his prostate. “Oh, God, Cas, there.”
“How many fingers am I supposed to be inserting?”
“I don’t know, two, three?” He tensed as Cas slid three fingers into him. “I don’t think it’s supposed to be all at once.”
“Oh. Can I…?”
“Give me a sec.” Dean took a few deep breaths, allowing his body to relax a bit. “Oh, God Cas, yes.”
It didn’t last very long after Angel and man were connected. Cas had never done this before, after all, and Dean was unused to the intensity—the combination of physical sensation and the knowledge that this was a fricking Angel of the Lord who was having sex with him, an Angel of the Lord who was in love with him, and Angel of the Lord whom he could no longer deny loving. It had been a long time since Dean had had an emotional bond with an intimate partner, and he’d forgotten what a difference it made.
Dean was half afraid that Cas would just disappear again, after, but the Angel lay back down beside him, wrapping him in his arms. “I love you,” he whispered in Dean’s ear.
“I love you too,” Dean said, conceding, only a little surprised at how much he meant it. “I love you too.”