Chapter 1: Laden With Love
The tension could be cut with a knife it was so pronounced. Dean cursed himself internally in every way imaginable. Fuck fuck fuck! Why had he opened his mouth? What had prompted him to say that? What in god's name possessed him and convinced him that that was okay? Dean sucked in a breath and stood up, his act having been done so quickly the chair he was sitting in toppled over. Castiel stood up as well, as if in a trance, keeping his hand rested on the library's table like he needed it to support him. Like he would fall over without it. Dean clenched his fists. He didn't understand where that had come from. He scoured the room for Sam before remembering he was gone, out on a case with Jody and Donna. His entire body burned.
"Cas I-" he croaked, not able to continue, his efforts halted by the lump in his throat. Cas stepped toward him tentatively, as if Dean was a frightened animal. He supposed he was acting as if he was. With each exaggerated step forward Dean took a small, careful step back. He yelped like a frightened child when he unexpectedly met a wall. Castiel took advantage, and advanced the rest of the way towards Dean, his arms outstretched, pointing slightly toward the ground, finders spread wide, his wrists bent to expose his palms to Dean. Dean's breath hitched when Castiel stepped into his space, his eyes thoroughly searching his with a sympathy so deep, pain so profound, Dean felt even more vulnerable. He was further ripped open, leaving his soul barred, the darkest recesses of it exposed for Cas to see. He had lain himself bare to Cas, was now stuck standing there, paralyzed while Cas absorbed it all.
It was a lot to take in, Dean could imagine. He could barely take containing it himself. But he had, for so many long, suffering, twisted years. It was ingrained in his brain, had become a part of him. But was so deeply hidden no one had even been made aware. Not even Sam. It had kept him apart from others, stopping him from letting anyone in enough that they would care when they saw. It had restricted him to pointless one night stands that left him hallow and lonely, feeling an ache so raw he felt he could never recover. Leaving him to aimlessly drift through life, burying it so he could deal with other hells, letting it fester and grow and deform into something poisonous and so darkly all consuming. That must have been what it was, what prompted him to let it spill from his mouth, pull itself forward and come forth from his brain. But it was like throwing up, and left him feeling sick and quaking, leaving a foul taste in his mouth he wished there was a way to get rid of. It was too much. The lock had been broken and he couldn't keep every single emotion that came with this mold ridden entity of a secret memory from erupting out of every chasm of his broken being.
The sobs racked his body and he was too deeply submerged in the essence of his pain to make himself stop. So he resigned himself to something that was so beyond emotion and just let go. The tears were so abundant and big that his eyes couldn't hold them, and spilled freely in a continuous stream down his face, gravity taking them to the floor. Until they didn't have as far to go, and instead fell onto a tan trench coat. Castiel's arms wrapped around him, his fingers gripped him tightly, digging deep into his skin. He let his head fall into the crook of his neck, succumbing to the desire of letting Cas shoulder his pain. The angel said nothing, simply clung to Dean's form, trying to will the pain from his body. He planted kisses into Dean's hair, giving Dean pause. He almost pulled away. What was Cas doing? It wasn't him. It wasn't Dean to receive something like that from someone like him. It wasn't them. But Cas wound his arms tighter, kissed his head again with a tenderness Dean had never experienced. And suddenly Dean was filled with…with what? Something. It was something so profound, something he had never felt. But…wait. He had. Every touch given, every stare shared, every word exchanged.
Dean was suddenly overwhelmed by what was behind it all, something so deep and beyond his comprehension he hadn't even been aware of it. It was a feeling that flooded him that he had never even come close to experiencing before. And he was so terrified he almost pulled away. Almost pushed Cas aside and ran for the hills, never to allow him even remotely near him again. But Dean was tired. He was raw and broken and just wished that for once he could feel properly whole, and this thing he felt was filling him to the brim. He almost couldn't handle it. Almost retreated back into himself. Almost buried what he was overcome with and what he had accidentally let loose. Almost.
He lifted his arms up and around Castiel's and let himself just drown in everything. It all came crashing down in one heavy weight, but was as if that weight had pulled on something. Tugged on a switch and activated something deep, deeper than that entity that he had just revealed, and everything clicked into place. Suddenly Dean understood. Maybe not everything, definitely not the extent of what he felt. But if there was one thing Dean understood it was something he had never felt before, and it was something so good it was as if he had been washed in some celestial light. Suddenly he understood what Castiel had meant by them having a profound bond. He understood why he stuck around. How he was able to bring Cas to his senses in the crypt. Why he had looked so heart broken and dead inside when he had told him he would have to kill him if the mark made him go too far. And suddenly he wished he could take it back. Take back every time he yelled at him, every time he was silent when he should have voiced his thanks. He suddenly wished he could go back in time and reclaim all of the lost time he had wasted. It was such a strong, full force that he didn't know what to do and was left to cling to Castiel in its wake. His sobs had long since ceased and his tears dried, left to leave stains down his cheeks. He simply stood there, taking deep, fast, ragged breaths that matched the erratic pulse of his heart. If it weren't for his clothes, Dean's nails would have pierced Castiel's skin by now. His body shuddered at the sudden overwhelming need of something more, and Dean raised his head, looked into Castiel's eyes and pleaded that he would understand, wouldn't make him say it out loud. Because frankly he had no fucking clue in the slightest as to what to say. He couldn't even fathom how he would phrase what he was feeling it was just so alien to him.
But Cas blessedly understood, and brought his face forward, leaving their foreheads to rest against each other, their noses to brush lightly. Dean took a trembling breath before tilting forward, bringing their lips together. They were only kissing, but it was something like he'd never experienced before. Castiel took Dean's bottom lip between his teeth, lightly scraping it as he slid his lips up against Dean's mouth. Dean moaned breathily, and helplessly trailed after, his tongue touching Castiel's teeth in the process. Castiel repeated the motion, this time opening Dean's mouth. Dean's desire flared, and he slid his tongue between Castiel's slightly parted lips before the angel could do so to him. Cas sucked at Dean's tongue, and Dean's hips bucked in an immediate response. This made Castiel let out a guttural groan, and he slid his hands down to get a firm grip of Dean's ass, using it as purchase so he could grind roughly into Dean's pelvis. All Dean could do was choke out a gasp, and suddenly he was being lifted. Cas rushed down the hall to Dean's bedroom, setting him down gently onto the bed despite his quick pace. He settled himself down onto him, and practically devoured his mouth as he fluidly rubbed his crotch against Deans. They were lost to sensation, and were able to do nothing but make out like teenagers, unwilling to let go. But eventually Dean's breath grew ragged, and Castiel pulled back to allow him to breath. Dean whimpered and tried to follow, bringing out a quiet laugh from Castiel.
"Patience Dean," he said quietly, the extra deep set of his voice giving away his lust, clearly voicing that he didn't want to pause either.
But that wasn't the only reason Cas pulled back.
He slipped off his coat, and Dean's eyes alighted with understanding. He went for the angels tie, and reveled in the way it made Cas shiver when it slid against his neck. He started on the buttons of Castiel's shirt as well, but what was happening had finally set in, causing his hands to shake. Castiel gently pushed his hands away and did it himself, slowly, the tease. Dean's eyes darkened while he watched, and he practically ripped the shirt off when Castiel finished the last button. He went for his jeans, and soon enough Cas was only in his underwear. Dean couldn't help trailing his fingers along his skin lightly, caressing every inch of him he could reach. He reveled at the muscles shifting under his skin, swallowed when he landed at the elastic, before slowly pulling the underwear down Castiel's thighs. His breath hitched when he took all of Cas in.
The blush dusted his cheeks, and Cas gave Dean a small smile. He leaned back down for a kiss, massaging Dean's head as his mouth lazily slid over his. Castiel's hands traveled down, and rested just underneath the hem of Dean's shirt. He stiffened, and Cas rubbed soothing circles into Dean's hips until he felt him relax. He looked straight into Dean's eyes, and never moved them as he slowly slid Dean's shirt up his torso. Their gaze was temporarily broken when it reached his head, and when the shirt was off Cas kissed Dean on the forehead. He started to slide down his body, but Dean stopped him, his voice laced with fear.
The angel paused, and brought his hands up to rest his forearms on either side of Dean's head.
"It's alright to be scared Dean," Castiel whispered, "but your scars aren't going to make me think any less of you. Just as learning about the extent of John's abuse did nothing to sully my opinion of you. Do you trust me?"
Dean nodded, and Cas shook his head.
"Say it Dean. If you cannot voice that you do, then you're not ready to let me move forward yet. And I don't want to push you. You can say no. We don't have to go so far yet. I wouldn't leave Dean, I wouldn't be mad. If you need to, I'll wait."
Dean took a deep breath.
"Don't wait Cas." he whispered. "I trust you. I-I want you to keep going."
Cas gave him another smile, and kissed him on the cheek.
With a care Dean didn't think possible, Castiel unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. Dean gave him the go ahead by lifting his hips, and Cas slid the jeans down his thighs, sliding them off his legs. He ran his hands back up his legs, touch feather light, making his way to the band of Dean's underwear. Dean braced his feet on the mattress again to allow Castiel to pull off his underwear. Dean closed his eyes, and felt Castiel's wander over his skin. The fingers that touched him trembled, and he cracked an eye open. There were tears in the angel's eyes. He ran a finger down one of the lines that riddled Dean's body, this particular one on his abdomen. Dean clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes tightly again.
"Dean…I'd smite him if I could. I know you just told me, but to see…to think he would find it justified to harm you…You didn't deserve it Dean…Please don't tell me you think you did, because that's far from the truth. And don't you dare let this make you think you're not attractive Dean. You're beautiful, scars and all."
Dean's hand shook at Castiel's words. He felt a light touch of lips on the very scar Cas had touched, and his breath hitched. It took a while, but Cas didn't care. This was something that Dean needed. He took the time to kiss every scar that rested on Dean's skin. And with each one that got attention, Dean shook more. When he finished Castiel looked deeply into Dean's eyes.
"You're beautiful Dean."
This earned Cas a teary-eyed smile, and Dean kissed him, pouring all of his gratitude into the sliding of their lips.
They resumed to where they had left off before, and it didn't take long for Castiel to start rutting against Dean, the pleasure he felt in their dicks rubbing together causing his movements to be frantic. Dean moaned loudly into Castiel's mouth, and bucked his hips up against Cas.
Dean could barely take enough control of his breathing to voice to Cas what he wanted.
He grabbed Castiel's ass for better purchase, and thrust as hard and fast as he could. It was difficult to take control of his limbs due to the overwhelming lust coursing through his veins. His desire fraying the nerves in his skin, making it tingle.
"Need you." he gasped.
No wanting to give up his position, Castiel used his grace to bring the lube and a condom into his hand, which appeared from underneath Dean's bed. He squirted some into his hand, and reached down between Dean's now open legs to smear some around his hole. The rest he used to coat his fingers, and he set to work, rubbing one digit around the ring. Dean whined at his touch. Cas watched him simply fall apart as he worked his finger in, and he had to use all his willpower to go slowly. For what felt like too long for the both of them, Cas worked Dean open. But, just as Cas started on a third finger, Dean had had enough.
"Now Cas," he moaned. Cas couldn't say no to that, and so, with fingers trembling from repressed desire-it was the only way he had been able to control himself-he pulled on the condom, and slicked himself with more lube.
Finally, he aligned himself, and moaned out, low and filthy, bringing Dean to join, as he pushed in agonizingly slow. He keened when he bottomed out, and Dean moaned at the noises that Cas was suddenly making. He started to rock, and Dean's voice raised in volume. When he found his prostate Dean screamed with pleasure, and a new found wave of lust crashed over Castiel. He pulled back a little and drove back in at the same angle. He hit it, and Dean positively writhed with the contact. Cas did it again, thrusting harder with each push in. It didn't take long for Dean to feel heat coiling in his gut. Frankly, he felt too good to care. With one last thrust, paired with the beautiful sound of Cas coming apart, Dean was gone, and he came-untouched-Cas following behind with a shout. Castiel laid on top of Dean, catching his breath, before pulling out. With his grace he got them cleaned, and pulled Dean into him, placing his face in the crook of Dean's neck. Dean sighed with content.
"I love you Dean."
Dean's breath hitched. Was that what he felt? Was that what this was?
"What does love feel like?"
Cas was silent.
"Is it-is it when you feel such a deep connection with someone, that you can't even describe the feeling properly? That what you feel is so strong that it overwhelms you and you feel like you're drowning and flying at the same time? Which are both equally terrifying."
"Everyone feels love differently Dean, so I can't tell you. It's something you must decide for yourself."
"I think I do," Dean said slowly. "Yeah."
He took a deep breath. It was time to let himself fall.
"I love you Cas."
Chapter 2: Dear Dad
Dean writes a letter to his father
This chapter can be read as a stand alone
At this point, I'm really fucking thrilled that you're dead right now. Because frankly-you probably didn't think it was possible-at this point I'd be even more of a disappointment to you now than I was then. I've failed you, no, I'm way past that point. I've failed Sammy. I've let him die, squared him into situations he didn't want. It's something I'm not proud of. Of course if you were still alive you would have killed me at this point. The second I went dark side you would've shot me right in the head. But you're not here, so it's something Sammy should have done. But he couldn't, the poor kid, and it's my fault. I raised him wrong, let him go too soft. But, honestly, I'd be a hypocrite if I criticized him for it. You would be so disgusted with how soft I've gone that out of reflex you'd just punch me in the face. Sam's not the only reason you'd hate me though. I've let so many innocent people die, led the world to go through such terrible things. I've allowed people into my life. Some have died for it. An innocent kid, had so much ahead of him, and his soul was burnt out of him, left an empty husk. Then there's Cas. Fuck. You would have beat me so hard if you knew about Cas. I flinch at the thought. Hell, you'd put me in the hospital. He's an angel, first of all. And I know from personal experience that angels are dicks with wings. He's my best friend. Done more harm than good to the world over all, but as they say, the highway to hell is paved with good intentions. I swear to (douchebag, never present) God, he's good dad, really good. But the poor bastard thinks so low of himself, so someone's gotta put him up there. The thing is; I love him I need him. In more ways than one. He gets me. He's nice to me. No matter how much I've fucked up he still stands by me-always has something positive to say. He actually makes me smile, makes me laugh, in ways I haven't in-shit-years. He fucking raised me from hell. I've lost my shit in front of him. I've cried, showed fear, uncertainty, told him the shit I go through that I don't let anyone know about. Not even Sammy. None of this matters though. He's dying, I'm dying. One of us is going to leave the other and the person left alive is going to be pissed off about it. I hope it's me. I couldn't handle losing him. Couldn't handle seeing Sammy lose another friend. Plus he deserves to live way more than I do. He could do so much more for the world. But, knowing my track record, it'll be him. I'll be left to pick up the pieces. Maybe I'll keep his coat again. I could store his car in the garage, give it the occasional tune up, maybe even take it out for a spin. Though if I did it would probably end up twisted around a tree. Oh, and I know about Adam you mother fucker.
You know what, you should be glad you're not around too ya bastard.
Chapter 3: Leave a Message at the Tone
A kind of epilogue/continuation/thing of the second chapter
this is the one with the suicide, and the reason I tagged major character death
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The car swerved around the corner and collided into the tree I knew would be there. I released the steering wheel and grabbed the trench coat off the passenger seat, buried my face into it. It still smelled like you. CRASH.
The shrill ring pierced the silence, but it wasn't picked up. There was a trill a little later, indicating a voicemail was left. It was simple, short.
Dean! A sob. A dial tone.