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In hindsight, the tiny supply closet had been a bad idea. A really really bad idea. So was breaking into a highly elite gala to steal an amulet that was cursing half the town. Dean was full of bad ideas lately.
Maybe Dean needed to start letting someone else make the calls on these hunts, because being crammed into a tiny space with his best friend who he might also be painfully in love with was just about… no, scratch that, it was officially the worst idea he’d ever had.
Cas’ body was pressed fully against Dean’s in the tight space, their breaths mingling in a way that had Dean a little breathless and dizzy. Cas’ hand moved from the door handle to rest against Dean’s hip, and Dean felt his breath hitch in his chest.
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait until here before the party guests leave?” Cas asked,glancing over at Dean in the muted light coming from the single lightbulb above them.
“Too long,” Dean muttered, trying and failing to slow his heart rate as Cas’ hands shifted slightly until one was resting on his lower back and the other hand found a home against his side.
Everything inside Dean’s chest was screaming at him to lean closer into the touch, to revel in the way Cas’ hands fit against his body, and that was why he had to force himself to move away. Except, there was nowhere to move to. Shifting slightly on his feet to put some distance between them, Cas instantly compensated for the movement by sliding his hand further up Dean’s ribcage.
The touch sent a shiver down Dean’s spine, and he felt his knees shake slightly as the breath stuttered from his lungs.
“Do small spaces bother you?” Cas suddenly asked, his breath tickling the side of Dean’s neck, making Dean’s heart stutter wildly in his chest.
How the hell did Dean answer that question? No? Yes, but only because every inch of your body is pressed against mine and it’s taking every ounce of power to resist reaching out and touching you in every intimate way possible? I don’t know because all I’m thinking about is kissing you stupid right now?
Shifting again, Dean kicked at the ground with the toe of his shoe. “Nah, I don’t mind being squeezed into a supply closet with my best friend.”
There was a soft hitch from Cas, his eyes flickering towards Dean’s face before darting away again. “Best friend?” Cas whispered, as if the words were foreign on his tongue.
Frowning slightly, Dean bumped his foot against Cas’. “Hey, I thought you knew that already. Of course you’re my best friend.”
Cas tilted his head, and Dean could just barely catch a glimpse at the soft smile that tugged at Cas’ lips. God, what Dean wouldn’t give to feel that smile pressed against his lips; to feel the curves of Cas’ grin melding with his own.
“You know, you’re my best friend, too,” Cas replied, voice barely a whisper in the tiny space between them.
“Yeah?” Dean asked, just as quietly.
Cas nodded, his gaze briefly darting down to Dean’s lips before pulling away again to stare at the door on the supply closet. “If someone offered me the choice again, between Heaven or being here on Earth, I’d still make the same decisions.”
Dean felt a lump swell up in his throat. “Why?”
When Cas smiled again, it was a mixture of warmth and happiness, and yet something forlorn. “Because I found my purpose. I found a family. Found my best friend.”
The way Cas murmured ‘best friend’ made something deep inside Dean ache. Yearn in a way he’d never felt before. It wasn’t just words. When Cas said it, it felt like a promise. Like a confession. Like a declaration of love in its purest form.
Dean was tired of yearning. Blame it on the small space they were crammed into. Blame it on the way Cas’ hands were burning a deep sense of longing through his shirt and leaving handprints on his skin. The words were on the tip of his tongue and Dean couldn’t stop them bubbling out; didn’t want to stop them even if he could.
“Screw being just friends. Shut up and kiss me ,” Dean said, breath seizing in his chest as he fumbled to grab hold of Cas’ tie.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Cas murmured on an exhale, crowding Dean back against the shelves as he leaned in just a little bit closer; bumping their noses together in a soft brush.
The sudden desperation was agonizing, and Dean felt like his heart was going to tear right out of his ribcage if he didn’t have Cas’ lips on his in the next 0.5 seconds. “Too long,” Dean muttered, using his hold on Cas’ tie to close the distance between them until Cas’ lips were crashing against his own.
And, God, if Dean thought he wanted to kiss Cas before, now that he had the taste of Cas on his lips, he was never going to get enough.
Cas let out a soft gasp, and God, Dean actually felt his knees wobble as he latched onto Cas’ lower lip with his own and he pulled Cas closer. Suddenly, Cas’ hands were on him, gliding across Dean’s shirt and rucking it up as fingers grazed along Dean’s waist. Cas pulled back slightly, his breath catching on a fluttering inhale, and Dean chased his mouth.
“Don’t you dare stop kissing me,” Dean muttered, letting the words ghost along the outline of Cas’ mouth.
Cas grinned, and God, Dean could feel it against his mouth; could trace along that smile with his lips. Was it possible for a smile to taste like Heaven? Because, God, feeling Cas’ smile pressing against his lips was divinity.
“Is this what you want?” Cas murmured, nudging forward until his lips caught Dean’s, tracing along the outline of Dean’s mouth before pulling back again.
“Are you enjoying being a tease?”
Cas’ grin blossomed into a beaming smile as he quickly darted one, two, three quick kisses to Dean’s mouth. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Cas replied instead, his breath tickling along the seam of Dean’s mouth before he was melding his lips with Dean’s again.
Goddammit. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. Kissing wasn’t meant to feel this good, but Dean’s heart was skittering in his chest, and it felt like he was going to absolutely shake apart every single time Cas’ mouth pressed against his own.
This time it was Dean pulling away, his chest aching with a need to breathe, but Cas chased him this time; dotting little pecks against the corner of Dean’s mouth before he found his way back to Dean’s lips again. The way Cas’ hand came up to cradle his jaw, as Dean kept one hand on Cas’ tie and the other tangling into the hairs at the nape of Cas’ neck, was enough to make Dean dizzy. It was too good. Too good, and Dean never wanted it to end.
Cas tasted like warmth; like a burst of sunshine and a lingering heat of desire. The way Cas licked his way into Dean’s mouth was utterly sinful, and Dean wanted to steal every last little breathtaking hitch that Cas was making until it melded into his soul.
Dean wasn’t sure how long they’d been locked like that, with their mouths chasing each other, lips tasting and taking and never stopping. But he didn’t care. He’d stay here and make out with Cas forever and it still wouldn’t be enough.
When Dean finally broke his lips away from Cas’, sucking in sharp lungfuls of air, he got a glimpse of Cas underneath the flickering lightbulb. Huh? Had the lightbulb always been flickering? Or was that Cas’ Grace fizzling and bursting because of the kissing?
Cas looked absolutely disheveled. His tie was completely crooked from where Dean had been tugging on it. His hair was ruffled and his lips were puffy and red. Somewhere along the way, Dean must’ve pushed at the trenchcoat, because the coat was seconds away from falling off of Cas’ shoulders, and Hell, that was a look that Dean never knew he needed to see until right now. Cas had never looked so goddamn hot, and Dean wanted to taste and taste and taste.
“We should probably go get that amulet,” Dean said instead, the logical part of his mind trying desperately to break through the cloudy haze filling his brain.
Cas smiled again, and this time, Dean did lean forward to ghost his lips across that smile, just because he could. Just because he wanted to and now he was allowed to.
“Five more minutes,” Cas replied, tilting his head until his lips locked with Dean’s again in another kiss.
Hell. Cas was right. The amulet wasn’t going anywhere. What was five more minutes?
Cas’ tongue slipped into Dean’s mouth again, tracing along the roof of his mouth before tangling with Dean’s own tongue.
Mmmmm. Better make it ten more minutes.