Finally! Sammy had gone to bed.
The Bunker was now semi-all to myself after a day filled with a vamp nest that was in desperate need of ganking. It was a sweet little straightforward head-chopping job, about four hours' drive away. We gave the leaches the pleasure a good rumble before we decapitated them, burned the place down, and drove the self-same four hours back. All this just 'cause of some rookie hunters, who'd totally gotten themselves in over their heads, called us out of sheer desperation, just before dawn this morning.
“Fucking kids,” I muttered.
But then, they all had to learn from someone. Might as well be us.
Meanwhile, no progress on the Amara front, so it was pretty good timing. But now I was done with the whole lot of them. The Darkness, impending doom, end of the world and it being nigh and so on. I just wanted to get to bed and cuddle up with my bottle out of view of anyone.
On my way to my bedroom I detoured by a small, dusty supply closet and got out a bottle with a half a fifth left.
“Twill do,” I told the bottle. We both felt good about our plans for the night, so I hid the bottle in my shirt and went straight to my room. “Sammy doesn't need to know.” I locked the door to my room blissfully behind me, leaned back against it, uncorked the bottle and closed my eyes, just wanting to get shitfaced and pass out for the night. “I will sleep tonight,” I sighed my relief.
I brought the impending relief to my lips and waited for the liquid tranquility to slush down my throat. Nothing. I tilted it the damned thing higher, still nothing. I knew exactly how much was in the bottle, and it didn't arrive in my mouth. The hairs stood up at the back of my neck, knowing instantly something was wrong.
I opened my eyes, reaching for my knife with my left hand. The knife didn't slip out of it's sheath. I pulled harder, but it was frozen solid where it was.
“What the hell?” All my alerts were up. “Show yourself, you coward!” I growled into the empty room.
“Don't wake Sam up,” a low voice whispered a few inches from my right ear.
“Cas!” I looked at the empty bottle, which I realized he must've used his mojo on. “Let go of my freaking knife, man. What are you playing at?”
Cas appeared, standing squarely inside of my personal space, his hand open faced to where my knife was.
“I'm not playing,” he said, letting my knife go, and physically taking the bottle out of my hand.
I didn't deck him, but oh did I want to. Angels can take it, right? I wouldn't have hurt him a bit, and it would've made me feel so much better. Instead I growled wordlessly at him.
“And neither are you, Dean.”
I decided to let that slide. Other than sex and alcohol, there weren't a lot of times I got to play these days, and he'd just taken a small amount of one of my pleasures away without asking.
“Obviously,” I conceded, pointing at the empty bottle. He still pissed me off with his antics. “Couldn't you just knock, like any other person?” But he wasn't any other person. He was Cas, and there was only one like him. Technically, maybe he wasn't even a person. Were Angels people?
I really didn't want to deal with philosophy, after decapitating two vamps earlier today and Sam incessantly itemizing the lack of lore on the Darkness on the lengthy drive back home. “What do you need, man? It's been a long day.”
“I need for you to stop imbibing yourself to sleep.”
I stared at him.
“Your brother doesn't know about your hidden provisions,” Cas observed. “I take it you want to keep it that way?”
A good defense is a strong offense, so I shifted to my most belligerent, don't-mess-with-me stance and replied, “That's right. And you're not going to tell him.”
Cas nodded patiently. “I am not. Because you are going to stop, right now.”
“Stop?” I wanted to laugh at him for making the most absurd bullshit statement that I've heard him utter lately. “Are you nuts? Have your sibling Angels finally cracked your gourd one too many times?” Okay, that last part was mean, knowing he'd been hunted by his own kind so many times, with admittedly good reason. I knew Cas was still hurting from Hannah's torture and betrayal, and he was feeling guilty about having had to kill her. Him. Her.
I shouldn't have used that against him, but he was meddling where he should stay the hell out.
“Probably. I don't deny my faults.” Cas was stone-faced as ever, all leader of the garrison, soldier of Heaven, come to right all that is wrong.
To me, though, he had become simply Cas, with his comic book outfit, all neatly pressed but hanging half off him, and his hair generally messed up enough to make him cute and adorable. Besides all that display of strength and power which he had, he would never wield it against us, against me, anymore. He was his own man now, with free will and he was always in our corner. I knew Cas didn't have a lying bone is his body, except when he was taking over the universe.
“The reality is, Dean,” Cas admitted with long suffering air. “It is you that is driving me... nuts.” He was using my slang term back to me, like he was desperately trying to find ways to make me understand.
His blue gaze was threatening to nail me to the spot. Why was I the bad guy all of a sudden? I wanted to push him away, so I lashed out verbally. It bought me time to think - to mount a defense - and to make sure I didn't go into any touchy-feely stuff.
“What the hell did I do? I mean, I've done plenty, but my sleeping habits are none of your business, no matter how much it seems to fascinate you.” A creepy thought occurred to me. “Are you still watching me sleep?”
Cas looked down and sighed deeply, but not remorsefully. More like he had had enough.
“Man! That's just not cool,” I told him. He may be new to humanity, but he really should've learned that one by now. “We're adults here, Cas.”
Cas engaged his patented stare again. “You're still in my charge, Dean. I will always have to care for your well-being.”
“Caring don't mean spying on, or literally watching over me.”
“It means exactly that. If it entails having to keeping watch while you sleep, then that's what I'll do.”
I threw up my hands in exasperation, really not interested in a tug of war at this hour of the night. “Never any privacy, then, is that it? What do I need to do to get you to stop?” I pleaded half-heartedly. Okay, so him wanting to watch over me also gave me the fuzzy feels, so sue me. I wouldn't tell him though.
“You are missing the point,” Cas said, like a teacher starting over again from step one. “It is you who calls me. It's by your request that I watch you sleep.”
“What?” Where was he getting this stuff from? “I never asked you to do that. In fact I remember telling you endlessly to stop doing that. It's creepy.” And sweet, but again, not something I'd ever say to him.
“Many nights when you sleep, you call out to me.” From the small frown and the slightly pained look on his face, I could see he wasn't lying. He wasn't playing a game either. He looked unhappy, defeated and determined at the same time.
Cas continued, frown deepening, “You yearn for me with such desperation, I must come as soon as I can. Most of the time, it's to see you drift off with empty bottles surrounding you. I see the tears on your face and the psychoactive ethanol on your breath.”
“You can see the what on my breath?” I pretended not to have heard the word 'tears.'
“The alcohol.” Cas tilted his head ever so slightly, as if he were talking to a beloved child. “I know it helps you sleep, but I can't take it anymore. You cry, you call out to me, before you, ah, fall asleep.” He breathed in as if to suppress a shudder.
I was pretty sure he was using 'sleep' as euphemism, and he really should've said I was passing out at that point, because I knew I was. That was of course the whole point. Sometimes it got so bad, it was the only way to make my body stop.
I started to feel for Cas, because I had never had a picture painted from someone else's perspective before. I didn't like what he said he was seeing, and my fuzzies for Cas were disappearing just as fast as they'd arrived.
Truth was, I hated having a mirror held up to look at my actions in such a harsh, unforgiving light, bordering on – no, explicitly telling me – I was stuck in a cycle of alcohol abuse. I knew I was, I'd accepted that since my stint in Hell, but I hated someone was keeping track.
Early on I didn't even try to hide it from Sam, but since Purgatory, he seemed to have assumed I was clean and beer-only, so I had slipped into hiding it from him, just so he wouldn't have to worry, and I could go about my business. That took enough effort to deal with while living close quarters with Sam. Now Cas was saying I was incapable of hiding it from him, so I had a much bigger problem on my hands, trying to keep Cas from worrying.
Why Couldn't they all just leave me the hell alone?
“Dean,” Cas was still talking, unaware my blood had started to boil at this point. “I have to come when you beseech me. It's an emergency prayer. I have to save you. I can't tell from your entreaty alone whether you're fighting off a demon and almost dying, or if you're loosing consciousness through psychotropic alteration. I won't know until I see you what the emergency is.”
He pinned me down with his baby blues. Even his beautiful eyes couldn't appease the anger that was burning a hole in my gut by now. If he'd been any other man, I would've tackled him, had him on the floor and out of commission right there and then.
“I have to come to you, Dean,” Cas finished, sounding as miserable about saying it as I felt to hear it.
I mentally went over what he had actually said, instead of only listening to my own thoughts, and I started to feel how genuinely wretched he was feeling and had suffered over it for a long time.
His heartfelt sadness broke through my anger, and I knew I would have to let it go. I couldn't keep pretending I didn't understand what he was saying anymore, and I couldn't make myself the victim of my own actions. I had free will too, after all. That was one thing I knew Cas admired me for. I had clearly let him down over this for years and years, unknowingly.
“I'm sorry, Cas. I had no idea,” I sighed. I felt the creepy crawlies running across my back, while at the same time some warm, tender spot started to worm its way into my stomach. I'd had no idea he was so closely in tune with me.
Cas didn't even blink, his face gave nothing away. “When I get here and I've determined you're not in a fight for your life, I knew that even in this room, in your own bed, you're still not safe, because of what you do to yourself.” His voice had reached a monotony that started to carve right through me, like he'd been stretched to the breaking point. And I sure as hell knew what that felt like. “I can't leave you alone like that, Dean. I'm bound by our bond. I stay to watch over you.”
“Cas, man,” I breathed. I walked over to the bed to sit down, deadly weary, bone tired. The day really had been long enough. I should tell him I'm sorry again, but I just had, so what would it help?
But I had to ask myself: did I really put him into a position where he'd have to spend his time baby-sitting me while I slept? No wonder he was fed up.
Cas sighed. “I would really prefer if you asked me outright to spend the night with you, Dean. It would save a good deal of anxiety on my part.”
“Angels have anxiety?” I quipped, trying a smile. At least he didn't seem to take offense.
Cas sat down beside me. “I can't speak for all Angels anymore, since I spent time as a human. And now I doubt I ever could even before that.” He gazed down at his hands, still holding the empty bottle. “I don't seem to have been very typical amongst my brethren, from the start.”
I had figured as much. I couldn't feel about Cas how I did if he had been anything like his douchebag siblings. “Where did you cast the psychoactive whatsit?”
“Out in the canal.”
I nodded, assuming it was better than vaporizing the alcohol into molecules. It might have made us tipsy breathing it in. “Some fish may get a little happy tonight.”
I waved off the bottle and the oncoming explanation. “Your motives were pure, man. Can't argue that.” I still couldn't say how sorry I felt. I kept flashing on this lone figure standing there with me passed out in this room, and in uncountable motel rooms, never even disturbing me. I felt so guilty. And there was more that I couldn't even bring up with him, not now, possibly not ever.
Cas smiled. I felt a little warmer and safer for it. Maybe it's not so bad having your Angel watching over you. Could be worse, right? He could've come to smite me. God knows I've done enough to be smited all the way to Hell for, what with the Mark and all. This was infinitely better than what I deserved.
In fact, I suddenly realized just how lucky I was. Knowing Cas would rather stand watch over me and take care of me than punish me, when he could so easily sweep me off the playing field with the touch of his hand. Now that hit me harder in the feelsies than the squabble over the booze, the shit we've all gone through recently, and any shit coming up with the Darkness.
Warm fuzzies were spreading out of that area in my stomach where it had started a few minutes ago. With Cas still in my corner, I was actually blessed, and literally so. What the fuck did I do to deserve all that?
I smiled at him like a puppy. I know it's ridiculous, but I couldn't help it. “What's nuking a little booze between friends, huh?” I followed it up with a whispered, “Thanks, man.”
Cas looked a little less forlorn. “I hope it wasn't a valuable variety.”
I waved one hand broadly in front of both of us and brought my voice back up to my normal bravado. “Money's never an issue. It's worth it for a night's rest, which, by the way, I won't be getting now.” I kicked off my shoes and threw the blanket back. “Well, there's always Netflix.” I jumped into my favorite spot and squirmed until I was comfortable.
I was expecting Cas to up and leave, because sleep was no longer on the menu, so no watching was needed. But after a moment's pause, he meticulously untied his shoes, put them next to mine and shrugged out of his coat.
“What?” I asked impatiently, as he stood there, coat dangling in one hand, staring at me.
“You should still sleep, Dean.” As if that explained everything. He seemed to be firm about the fact of it, but other than that, he didn't move.
“Have you been watching the Dean Winchester channel? I'm cool with you getting rid of the booze,” for tonight at least, “but without it, sleep ain't happening.” I had to get that through his head.
“Don't you have any other somnific medicines?” he asked, like he was stalling, or maybe he was genuinely thinking of alternatives to reach his goal.
It was irritating on the one hand, but entertaining and – well – sweet on the other. And I knew I liked his sweet side way too much.
Cas continued, “I hear boiled milk is effective.”
I didn't know how to respond to that. Milk! Man, it's been ages. “I heard that too,” I answered finally.
Only Mom had ever given me boiled milk. Talk about the warm fuzzies. I didn't know if I could keep from getting all maudlin and schmaltzy drinking hot milk with Cas. Sam would've been okay, although the ribbing would never end, if he ever caught me drinking hot milk. But I can get away with letting my mushy side out with Sam. He was used to it, and I knew that I didn't fool him most of the time anyway. Even so, I kept the bad-boy game up as much as possible, which was really necessary. Things would descend into massive chick flick scenarios, if I let that part of myself out too much. It was better for everyone around me, if I stayed stoic, bad ass mother fucker Dean.
But Cas - it could get difficult to keep that image up with Cas. The man never knew when to stop, and I had trouble keeping my defenses up with him. He didn't know how important he was to me, and I had to keep it that way. I might lose him forever, and that was definitely something that would never be my doing, if it was within my power to prevent it.
I knew I couldn't have him, so I'd always made damn sure he didn't know just what I wanted from him, or how badly I wanted it. Him. I shook my head.
He could never know, and certainly hot milk would be much more dangerous than half a bottle of Scotch to loosen my tongue, where it came to giving into my true feelings for Cas.
“Alright.” He laid down his coat over the bottom end of the bed like a spread, looked smug for a second and disappeared.
I wasn't sure if he was serious about me getting up to boil milk, but for now I was too tired to argue and the bed was soft. I loved my memory foam mattress that I'd splurged on. It so didn't get old any time soon. Living in the Bunker was so much better than all those questionable beds in all those so-so motel rooms. And my room was even a bit better than Baby's front bench, but I mentally apologized to Baby for that.
I had snuggled myself in cozily when Cas reappeared, holding two steaming mugs.
“May I?” He asked politely, indicating the bed with a piping hot cup.
“Yeah, sure.” I scooted sideways and he sat down reverently. He pulled his legs up, tucked my pre-warmed pillow at his back, and gently settled in my just vacated snuggle zone. I swear I thought I almost heard him purr.
That sucks, I sighed, really wanting my pre-nestled spot back. But then I quickly realized the memory mattress was so good, a new snuggle zone was forming right under me in the middle of the bed. Oh, heaven.
“Cas,” I accepted the super hot cup, still a bit astonished he had made us hot milk. “Thanks, man.”
I couldn't imagine making anyone a hot night cap milk mug for, except for Sam. And Cas, I amended when I stole a glance at his contented face. He seemed to greatly enjoy the simplicity of this small moment he'd created, and I started to feel it too. Yes, I'd make him hot milk, in a flash, in fact. I'd just never thought of that particular scenario as being realistic before.
“You're welcome.” He proceeded hold out his cup to toast mine with his. We clinked our mugs. “World peace,” he said, serenely and closed his eyes briefly.
“Hear hear,” I agreed. Nothing wrong with clinking milk in mugs, even if it could've been Jack Daniels in crystal tumblers, which would make it ten times better.
Liar , I sighed. Lame, bland, uninteresting milk, that's where it's at. And you know it.
It was true, because it got Cas in my bed and I was not alone tonight. He had clearly decided to stay with me, and that was the greatest gift in the Universe as far as I was concerned. I counted myself damn lucky, right this minute.
Was Cas trying to show me an inkling of happiness? I couldn't believe it was that simple, because, oh my God, it's always been so complicated.
No quiet, no rest, no calm and much too little milk in this Hunters' life of ours. That had been both my parents' legacy, really.
“Is it working?” Cas broke into my thoughts after a while.
“Too hot to drink, actually.” I made it up, but it was as good an excuse as any, to have sat there and just mull over everything instead of trying what an Angel's touch does to a beverage to warm the soul.
He touched my mug briefly with one finger and suddenly it seemed at just the right temperature for sipping. I took a good mouthful. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had hot milk. Well, yes I could, but I didn't want to. Okay, I did want to, but I didn't want to remember anything that came after that. The memory of Mom was always a little too hot to handle.
“Cas, my friend,” I said to my bed companion. “Next to sleeping, the not sleeping with you is just about perfect.” That hadn't come out exactly right, but I assumed he'd know what I meant.
“It is a beautiful night on the western hemisphere this solar day,” he said, as if that was an agreement to what I had just said.
Then I drank my milk for real and was surprised how much I was enjoying it. The western hemisphere could take care of itself for just this moment. I'd let Cas enjoy the meta stuff, if that's what he wanted.
“I could help you masturbate,” Cas offered without skipping a beat.
I nearly choked. “Where the Hell did that come from?” I had heard some remarks out of left field coming out of his mouth over the years, but this took the cake. And then some!
“I know it's a good method for you to get to sleep,” he asserted confidently.
“Yeah, for us humans it's generally a good way to relax, but jeez, man, it's not a two-man exercise!” I couldn't have him talking about masturbation, I really couldn't. “Dude!” I ended lamely. That always worked with Sam to shut him up about embarrassing subjects.
But not Cas.
“I know you enjoy it, and I know I'm often involved,” Cas continued, as if he were suggesting I have a healthy breakfast in the morning. “I do understand sexual fantasies, Dean.”
“Oh, you do, do you?” I started to get sarcastic with him, which was actually me holding back, because I really wanted to throw him and his milk out of my extremely comfy bed for crossing some very solid lines here. No one could deny that outrage was appropriate right now, but at the same time, I really didn't want to spill that milk that I'd gotten attached to. And then there was the case of Cas sitting peacefully beside me, blithely talking about sex, no less.
My instincts were getting thoroughly confused, so I just asked, “Why do you think you know so much about my fantasies?”
“Because you yearn for me when you orgasm.”
I don't know why I didn't hit him. But the reality was, I couldn't move. I couldn't even seem to force any violence into my limbs. I knew I should toss him out, kick, growl and punch him. Instead, I just sat there.
“Yearning is a type of orison, commonly unintentionally broadcast. I can hear you when you hunger for me.” Cas was still composed, but starting to look less happy. He was clear and matter of fact, like a storm brewing underneath it all. “Every time.”
And I was calm.
Why was I calm? I had never hungered for him. Ever!
But I had.
I swallowed hard, insides screaming to deny this truth. But I had to ask, “How many times?”
I felt the fury I wanted to have made my master so I could fight my way out of this predicament completely withdrawing after the most specific number I had heard since the Crossroads Demon had said, 'One year.'
The finality of the number left me in a very heavy state. Defeat. Grief. The end.
“Eighty-seven?” I asked, my whole body growing cold with trepidation.
“The first six times I was not sure what I was experiencing, but counting backwards, yes.” Cas was looking seriously uncomfortable now, which was somewhat encouraging to me. He must've felt pretty shocked, having been privy to something so base as hearing my yearning, when I – I swallowed – orgasmed.
I had nowhere to go to outrun this, nothing I could do to make it go away. No lies could overcome the accuracy of his celestial perception.
I fucking well knew I'd been fantasizing about him. A lot, even. All the time, since we met. From the moment I knew who he was, what he was, that he thought I was worth raging into Hell for and busting me out. I could still feel the brand on my arm which had been so raw to begin with. It was the most genuinely awesome thing I had ever known, aside from raising Sammy. Cas had saved me from the worst of nightmares, from the lowest low that I have ever sunk to, including the Mark.
Eighty-seven? I couldn't even begin to count the number of times I've wished him in my bed, but not like this. Not at all like this.
My fight or flight instincts had forsaken me. I sat there and I felt deeply ashamed. I'd sworn to myself, no one would ever know. Least of all Cas. I knew he would never understand what it meant, that I respected him, that I wanted him. I never wanted him to feel used, betrayed and demeaned.
I felt like apologizing and promising to do better, but I knew that I could never truly do better, or ban him from my mind when I sought sexual relief. He was just always there.
Then it dawned on me, that maybe there was hope. Now that he's told me he has always known, but he's never brought it up before. My God, he's kept silent for seven years. Maybe he still didn't really understand how it works for us humans, which could explain why he was calm and collected now, instead of calling me a perve, a user, a traitor to our friendship, our bond.
But if he knew, and he didn't know it wasn't okay, who else also knew? Did he talk to his Angel friends? Balthazar had always wielded innuendo with every word he said, but nothing I could take in any way seriously. He was just a dick, but the dick was Cas' friend, so whatever douchebaggy, salacious stuff he said, I had always let it slide.
Then a worse thought occurred to me, making me grow stone cold, inside and out.
“Was it on Angel Radio?” I heard my voice choke, as I felt my face heat up with mortification. Please, don't let it be. I couldn't face him.
I heard Cas draw in a quick breath, as if he was laughing at me, or maybe he was exasperated. I had to look, but I fought it, because I was too ashamed. Then he said, “Never. This is communicated only between you and me.”
I let go of the breath that I didn't know I'd been holding. Thank God!
“Cas, you got to believe me. I really made an effort never to say your name,” I finally confessed, trying to put all my sincerity into the lame words. If only I could truly let him know how much I'd tried to make sure I was far away from him when I – when I used him. Damnit, the cards were out. I might as well show them all. “Believe me, I didn't want you to know.”
Then I allowed myself to look at him, to face his unearthly beauty, his depth of soul, which was almost too open to behold every time I looked into his storybook blue eyes. I knew I was looking at Jimmy, but I wasn't ever looking at Jimmy. I was seeing Cas, and he was everything that I had ever wanted. Except for needing Sam, Cas was everything I had ever wanted. And because of Sam - because of me - I could never have him. And that is why I would never have told him, he should never have known.
I needed him to see the truth. “I tried to keep all that sex stuff away from you. I didn't want you to despise me.”
Cas just smiled, which was something clear and still, like a fresh Summer morning. “I knew you didn't want to talk about it. I honor that. But despising you, Dean, for any reason, is totally impossible.”
“Cas,” I searched for something that would tell me he was repulsed, but I was met with a friendly, open, even an understanding expression. “You weren't supposed to know,” I appealed to that human side, that I thought I saw.
He cast his eyes down to his miraculously still steaming mug, and smiled wistfully. “I have always known. I'm sorry it gives you grief to talk about it. It-” He pinned me with eyes the shade of the Florida coastal waters, which I could so easily drown in, if we weren't right in the middle of the most awkward conversation two dudes could possibly be in. “It gives me joy,” Cas continued soulfully, “I hope that's okay.”
“Okay? You're joking, right?” I tried to reach for his cup, but somehow it was still boiling and his hand wrapped around it wasn't much cooler than that. Cas must've been keeping it at a level, high temperature, but it was hot enough to burn me, so I quickly pulled away and hissed.
I couldn't grasp this. It gives him joy? What does that mean? No milk-induced distractions would get me off the most important thing to get settled, right here, right now. “Seriously, you don't hate me for this? For using you?”
He just stared, like the first time we met. That distant, Angelic, almost smile that could right all wrongs. It threw me for a loop then, and it wasn't any clearer now. He'd told me things I couldn't believe then either. I still didn't believe them and probably never will. How could I, when my life took such a fantastical turn when Cas walked into it? Given that it had been nutcase central before that, already, of course.
But Cas coming into my life had been such a game-changer for me, giving me hope - the tiniest bit - that there was someone out there looking out for us. That I wasn't all alone, taking care of Sammy and me, that I was worth something, even a tiny little something, to someone out there. And not just any old someone - an Angel, who for whatever reason believed in me, and who had pulled me out when I was pretty much degenerated, lost and damned for all time.
I would never have the right words to express that, even if I lived to be a hundred and twenty years old.
“I will never hate you, Dean. For anything.” He sighed and I saw love cross his face. I realized the sound I'd mistaken for a laugh before, had been a breath of heartfelt emotion, which Cas was barely containing right now. He waved to where we'd been standing at the door before, where he'd interrupted my plan for the evening. “Even for that, for you destroying yourself the slowest way possible. I hate that, but I don't hate you.”
I'll blame it on the milk and its powerful effects on me, but it became hard to talk. I never thought I'd cause anyone grief by what I did, much less Cas. I never considered Cas, or Sammy, when it came to alcohol.
Actually they did factor into things. In fact, they were why I wasn't permanently at the bottom of a bottle. The people I love best in this world, I kept on going for them. They were my motor, my reason for living, my purpose in this world. 'Take care of Sammy.' That was all there was for me, and all there ever would be.
Even if my throat would've cooperated, I wouldn't have known what to say to Cas. I was processing this, needing time, and to be honest, I didn't want to think about it all too hard.
Cas continued, open and reverent. “You've forgiven me everything, Dean. All the mistakes I made. All the blood and death I've caused.”
“You always mean well,” I managed to choke out, hoping to sound vaguely normal.
“Yes,” he said, sadly. “You even accused me of that, and it's true. Free Will is unexpected, hard. I was used to being a cog in the machine, like I was as leader of the Garrison in my Father's army. It's easier than being at the wheel myself, trying not to derail the whole train.”
I could finally swallow through the lump. “Look at you, man. Talking in metaphors and everything.”
He smiled, cocked his head and became seven years younger. “Good things do happen, Dean.”
His words resonated all the way back. I knew then that whatever would come next, it wouldn't be simple. It never was. And I have loved it, every minute of it, even all the goddamn horrible times, every single second with him.
So I answered him as honestly as I could in that moment, because he deserved it. “In my experience, the only good thing in this world is Sam.” I put my hand over his still boiling hot one, even though it hurt, just so I could feel him. “And you.”
I didn't fucking care that it hurt. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted this to be real, my hand on his, us together in my bed, milk, sappy words, and a crazy booze smiting Angel who said he didn't hate me, that he could never hate me. The pain in my hand seared the knowledge into my body. I didn't want to let go when I felt it burn me, inviting him to brand me again.
“Stop that, Dean.” Cas pulled his hand away, and put his other hand on my singed one. He felt exceptionally cold, like he was frosting his hand a bit to soothe my burn.
I gratefully accepted the cooling goodness and his human touch. His Angel touch. Damn, that's just confusing no matter how long I know the man.
“Don't do that,” Cas admonished, quite disturbed. His frown was an unhappy one and I just looked down to get away from it. I hadn't meant anything by it, certainly nothing to hurt him. I did that with Sam too, realizing I'd hurt him by doing something boneheaded that I didn't even think affected him. Like taking the Mark of Caine. I still couldn't believe what I had put him through, all the way from doing that when we were fighting and separated, to letting it take me over – letting it fucking win – and leaving Sam to pick up the sorry pieces that was me. I still didn't know why he didn't just plain try to kill me. In retrospect it wouldn't have worked, but man, I tried to kill him.
I had to get away from all this thinking. I hated how it never ended and whatever I did, even though my only aim was to protect Sam, I always did the opposite.
I wrung my hands, noticing the small hurt of the boiling milk wasn't really the pain that mattered. Most of the time I just didn't mind any of it. I'd gotten good at 'pain' in Hell, and even before that, Dad taught me to be Hunter, and Hunters don't just squirm at every little lick and wound. Pain was part of the job and sometimes I welcomed it.
I shook my head. Sam understood but he disagreed with the military training needed to do our jobs. And Cas, no, Cas wouldn't understand, ever. He knew we were frail, and could die at any moment. Cas always wanted to use his finger and make all the pain go away. Sometimes that just didn't solve the problem.
Could I make him understand that? I'd only ever talked about this stuff with Sam, before. I guessed it was worth a shot anyway, seeing as it looked like we had all night.
I looked up again and saw his frown had been swapped for a loving smile. I wasn't sure I could deal with that, and wished the frown back. “Cas, for me there's just you two. You and Sammy. Everyone else is dead,” I finished, not knowing I had been going there when I started.
Cas shook his head, his almost black hair flopping to and fro with the motion. He turned my hand over and smoothed the inside. I exhaled, trying not to get lost in the touch.
No, he truly didn't understand where I was coming from. I'm pretty sure no one could understand, what with the Mark and Alistair and all the reasons I would probably never make it to Heaven again. But he deserved a try to explain stuff. I would do the same for Sam – well, after telling him to piss off about ten times first. Because this was so not a topic I discussed with anyone. Ever. Not even Sammy. Or especially not Sammy. Maybe it was safe to talk about it with Cas. After all, he'd been there for most of it. He'd saved me, pulled me out of the pit, when there was no humanity left in me.
God, I really don't want to talk about it, but here goes.
“Man, I've gone too far off the reservation already, Cas, in too many ways.” I felt hot tears welling up in my eyes. Fuck him for opening all this up. This is really the wrong place to be headed. Off-limits to think about. “I'm not the man you think I am. I never was.”
He shook his head again, and his hair moving mesmerized me, as he let my hand go. He was solemn and firm when he spoke, “I can probe you for your soul, if need be. I know the man I'm talking to. I spent a lot of time studying you, Dean.”
That should've gotten a quip out of me at least for being stalkerish and creepy, but this was not what I was expecting him to say. It felt like I was receiving information I hadn't been aware of before, but it made sense. He was always studying me. I'd always been conscious of it and I'd ignored it, so I didn't have to question it. Cause if you question things, you rake stuff up, out from under the carpet where it had been neatly stomped away to be comfortably forgotten.
Denial is a way of life, I always say. That and whiskey.
But it seemed Cas loved raking things up. That's an attack and I wouldn't stand for it from any other man. Any other Angel, damnit!
Probe my soul, can he? If he wanted to open festering wounds, he could have mine, right here, right now. I couldn't bring myself to be violent with him just yet, but anger was welling up at this whole conversation of emotion that just shouldn't happen between two guys who are sitting in one bed, not intending to drink, eat pizza, watch porn or the game; doing guy things that guys do.
But Cas so wasn't any sort of 'guy'. I'd probably be spending the whole night going back and forth about morality of my drinking or whether I was fit for God's service anymore. I was done with the whole God thing as well, but up till now figured I'd leave him his illusions. God was his father, after all. He was more invested in God than I was, that was for sure.
I didn't even know if I was in or out of control at this moment. All I knew was that I had to fight back. So I pulled my hand away, pulled most of me away from him, realizing we'd been so close side by side that we were smashed up together like two giggly girls at a sleepover – or what I'd always imagined a girls' sleepover would be like.
Concentrate, Winchester. I wouldn't let his nearness relieve this nicely cultivatable rage I felt slowly welling up that I could use to head off any emotional attack he may have planned.
“Don't you get it, Cas? 'Hunger' said I'm dead inside.” That came out far more direct than I had expected it. I shocked myself with the truth of it. It wasn't the anger at Cas that I was feeling, it was the truth he was probing that really hurt. I hadn't even allowed myself to think about this, since it happened.
Damn! Denial is such a sweet river, a river that ran full of booze. I couldn't push it back into nothingness now that it was out.
I wanted to catch my breath, keep the tears at bay, but some of them escaped anyway. I heard myself talking, “Fact is, Hunger didn't need to say it. I know I'm dead. I can fill it up with sex or alcohol, Hunting or even violence. I try to fill it up with Sammy, but there's nothing there. You grabbed me, pulled me out of... that place. But what you don't realize is I never really came back from-” I had to stop talking.
The thickness in my throat was starting to choke me, and I couldn't even register if he'd heard me or understood. I'd opened the trap-door and stepped right into it. I tried to keep from falling apart like a little girl.
Then Cas put his cool hand on my forehead. For a moment I thought he was going to use Grace to knock me out, but he held it there. His hand lit up, and I closed my eyes. Grace is too bright to look at and too powerful to fight. Cas was my safe place, so I surrendered to the situation. I wanted him to do something, anything. Anything was better than this nothing I was now staring into. An abyss that was best kept at bay by sweet oblivion and the job, which were never quite enough to suppress the pain.
Cas's voice flowed to me, in the form of an Angel's whisper. “Is that what you dream about? Being back in Hell? After all these years of being back on Earth?”
A sob finally escaped from me. I caught myself, pushing it back in check. I was not going to break, I was not! I controlled my voice tightly and heard it rumble low when it came out. “I spent more time there than on Earth, man. Hell yeah, it's realer than real.” There. Finally.
He could do with that whatever he wanted, cause I sure as Hell didn't want it. Except I had to add, “Sammy can never know,” I whispered, pushing it out. “Promise me.”
I felt disobedient tears roll down my face, when the Grace lit up further. I let him do what he needed to do to me. I probably deserved it, whatever he was planning to do.
But nothing bad happened. Something shifted though, and a feeling of floating calm slowly spread over me. My tears continued, hot and streaming, but I didn't feel that horrible and oppressive need to sob anymore. I sighed in relief at loosing the uneasy pressure in my throat. Breathing became effortless, and I realized it hadn't been for a long, long time.
I heard Cas exhale with a strain. “I cannot remove memories of this magnitude, Dean,” Cas said, his voice sounding constricted. “I don't have the power or the tools. There is a brutal method to eliminate massive amounts of memory, but the risks to your personality and your soul are grave.”
I opened my eyes when the light had faded. What I saw was a man, an Angel, who seemed wrecked. Cas's hair was even more tousled, insanely, but lusciously messed up. His clothes looked to fit him even worse, and the look on his face was so deep and intense, it radiated pain.
He must've probed me too deeply, and seen what I can't afford to let out. I wished he hadn't tried. If I'd known that was what he was going, I would've stopped him. It wasn't punishment, it was healing, and I felt lighter, better, less burdened than I had in years, but I didn't want it at this cost. I didn't want anyone to be hurt because of me ever again. He shouldn't spend himself on me, as all I was was damaged goods, left, right and center. But how to tell him that? How to make him back off from saving me?
I couldn't find any good words, anything that would make him stop, because I knew he wouldn't. So I smiled and waved his hands away. “Don't worry about it, Cas. It's not your responsibility. It's just my life, or my death. Whatever.”
“No.” Cas was shaking, his breathing now becoming labored. He looked like he was fighting to regain control over his trembling body, all of him tensing up. I now missed the inappropriate closeness I had abandoned a few minutes ago. I would've been able to feel his tension, soothe it out. Maybe, if he'd let me. He might let me. As it was, I couldn't move back and take him in my arms, which is what I was yearning to do. I wanted to soothe his pain, instead of seeing him hurt himself doing too little too late for me.
Cas's losing battle with his vessel going into shock was starting to scare me. “What the hell did you do, man?”
“I observed,” he said haltingly, voice slightly trembling through the deep rumbling tones. “Your time in Hell.” Then he looked straight at me again, a haunted grimace all over him, his upper body visibly taut, maybe in an effort to stop the trembling. “I knew, Dean. I was there to raise you from your damnation. I thought I knew everything then, it was all clear, black and white, before I met you. Met humanity.” He put a hand on my arm again, and I was selfishly taking pleasure in the touch.
Cas got his voice under better control and his tension seemed to ebb. “Now I know I never understood before. We weren't allowed information about what was practiced in Hell. We weren't allowed to stay more than the moment it took to locate you and grip you to me. My brethren cleared the way out for all of us, and we blazed as fast as Angels can.” He was clearly forcefully steadying himself. “I never saw any of it, of what I saved you from. It was a retrieval operation, quick and effective. The anguish you-”
Of course. Angels were always on a need-to-know basis. At his pay-grade, before Lucifer came free, he probably didn't need to know much of anything, and he more than likely didn't ask questions and be a pain in the ass like I would've been in his position. He actually followed orders from what he thought was his Dad. Kinda like us poor slobs down on Earth.
Cas may never even have imagined what Alistair's deal was, just that it was bad. Even after taking Alistair down, he didn't seem to understand much of what that man, that demon, had been capable of, what he did to me, and what I turned into. And why I shouldn't have been saved at all.
Cas's voice had steadied and the tremors through his body were irregular now. “I never actually imagined what you experienced, Dean. I didn't wonder. But I saw it in your mind, just then. I saw how you felt, what you became, how you hated it. I saw your pain.” Cas swallowed audibly, like he was forcing something down. “I am so sorry for failing you.”
I shuddered at that. “You failing me? Cas, you saved me.” I couldn't take him apologizing. It was fucking me who should apologize to every soul in Hell that I ever touched and put on the rack. I should go back and offer myself to every single one of them, and make things right that can never be made right again.
I so couldn't take him apologizing for saving me. I wished I could take all of it back, every single thing of it. The only thing I ever wanted was to save Sammy. Sam deserved all this, not me. He deserved an Angel in his bed, trying to take his pain away, not me.
No, it was too much for one evening. And all I had going for me was a formfitting mattress and lukewarm milk.
Now I also had a shell-shocked Angel on my hands.
I wanted to spare him this, but how? All I could do was make it not matter. I had no other tools and certainly no powers of any kind, so I told him squarely, “You shouldn't have done that, Cas. You didn't even ask my permission for a Vulcan mind probe.” I'd rather get him angry at me than see him hurting like this.
In a flash the cups were gone, dematerialized or zapped to somewhere else, and he pulled me bodily to him in a hug. He put his head on my shoulder. He may be a size smaller than me, but there was no way I could've resisted, apart from outright fighting my way out of his embrace. And without the Mark I'd loose against the strength of an Angel any day of the week.
He continued to hold onto me, crushed in a bear hug, like he wasn't going to let go for the foreseeable future. Was he trying to distract me? Make me forget again, and forget that even probing my memories put him in Angel-shock?
Maybe he was trying to make himself forget. I could help with that. Forgetting about things was my number one strong point, apart from my innumerable talents as a Hunter, of course.
“The 'now' is real, Cas. The past is not real. It's over. It's gone.” I wrapped my arms around him now, in case he was really seeking comfort. A bit odd for an Angel, but he was odd tonight, that was for sure, even for Cas. “You got me out, man, that's all that matters.”
I couldn't make any of this better, but I could do the right thing, right here, right now. I could tell him to forget everything he saw and let go of my pain. I could let him hug me and we could sit here and be all Platonic about it. Buddies, right? We're good friends. Family even.
The thought was good, but I knew it was all bullshit. I wanted more from Cas than bros being buddies, offering platonic comfort or even a indulging in a slightly off-key bromance. No, I wanted all of him, every which way and forever. A small bromance would never be enough to satisfy what I'd had brewing inside me ever since we met, which was exactly why I always tried to stay out of reach with him, or pushed him away when it tried to get too chummy. I just couldn't trust my own dick not to go ape shit and go nuclear on the unsuspecting Angel.
Now I had to deal with Cas's state of shock as well as fight my body from betraying me while having him plastered all over me. I sighed deeply, telling Little Dean do don't even dare come out and play. It was absolutely the wrongest thing that could happen right now.
But I knew I didn't want to fight this. I wanted his body pressing against mine, and I wanted so much more, that I felt myself losing bits of my self-control. The situation was unique, it might never come again. Cas was here, and he wanted this, he wanted to be in a full body hug with me, Dean, who was raised from Perdition to do God's work, and fucked everything up worse than anyone could possible have predicted. He was still here, trying to save me. And now he needed me, I fucked up again, and I would live with that. But at least I would have this, and I hoped he would get what he needed right now. I had no idea what that was, as he wasn't moving, he just stayed on me, head buried on my shoulder, arms trying to wrap around, between me and the pillows. His leg was even flung over mine. I couldn't have been more 'hugged' than I was being hugged right now.
So I pulled Cas harder to me, grabbing at the opportunity selfishly and clung on for dear life, or at least for this moment. I would steal this moment from him, hoping he wouldn't be the wiser. I would cherish this forever, not worry about any guilty vibes my conscience wanted to put on this. I would probably masturbate to it later.
Another minute of amazing bliss went by and then, Cas said, muffled into my shoulder, “Cuddling works. You're feeling better.” That was beyond all doubt, as far as I was concerned, but from the tension in his muscles, it felt like Cas was still in the process of calming down. He continued, “I can feel your arousal growing.”
I shot out of his arms and flung myself onto the backboard of the bed. Cas sat back up, robotically, like he had miscalculated something.
Danm, I had forgotten myself, let my guard down. I had even taken advantage of him. I had no excuse for any of it, other than being a total douchebag.
I found myself gasping for breath, having gone from such a place of safety and raw emotion to being totally exposed. And it was my own damn fault even!
Talk about having no place to hide. My erection was visibly pressing along my left jeans pant leg, as the adrenaline – also a sweet drug, when it came down to it – only made it firmer. What can I say, hugs turn me on, action turns me on, Cas turns me on. Hell, even fear turned me on.
My dick didn't know this defensive adrenaline wasn't produced by the fun kill-the-monster type of action. All my dick knew was, hormones were pumping and I was with the hot guy that I've been lusting after since I first stabbed him.
I'd done it again, fantasizing about my favorite Angel.
One thing occurred to me though. “Cas, did I just do the calling thing?”
“You mean you're having sexual thoughts about me?” I noticed finally that he didn't look angry. Or even blink.
Does that man ever have any normal reaction to anything? I shook my head. He's not a man. He's not a man. Even with a sexy body, eyes to die for and this endearing way he had of looking at me like I was some kind of god. This line of thought was going off in the wrong direction fast.
I stopped myself again. “And that? Can you hear that?” I was starting to get really worried I couldn't have a private thought about him ever again.
“Dean,” he put a hand on my left thigh. So close, so close, now it was me who shuddered. “I can't read minds. That includes yours. If your emotions are very intense and you yearn for me, then it's possible you might accidentally send out a call.”
His pointing hand came extremely near to my taught erection. I felt like scrambling back further. “Your sexual arousal speaks for itself. I'm deducing it's caused by me.” He paused and let go of my thigh. “Or by the comfort of sympathetic companionship. It is true I'm guilty of the sin of pride. I may have overestimated my role in this change in your physiology.” He didn't pause again, but plowed on with confidence. “But not those eighty-seven times. In those instances you were unambiguously sending out prayer to me.”
I could tell by the way he looked at me, he knew he had my number. I would never be able to argue my way out of this or the eighty-seven times.
What the hell, they say you only live once. I hadn't seen actual proof of that yet, but I was going to go with the sentiment behind it. “You're not suffering from pride, Cas.” I tried to smirk and relax into the headboard in the spot I'd scrambled away to, which wasn't nearly as comfy as my earlier position. “That,” pointing to my left thigh and the visible evidence, “was all you.”
He smiled, in a happy-with-my-new-puppy sort of way. “I'm pleased to cuddle with you if that makes it easier for you to-” I held my breath to see if he would say 'masturbate' again, “relax,” he finished.
Okay, I had to regroup. Cas wasn't bolting. He wasn't shouting. He wasn't offended. He wasn't even indifferent. He liked it. He was proud of it? At the very least he was enjoying being the cause of my arousal. Best of all, he was offering to give me more, ah, let's call it affection.
I considered it for a moment. Even if it stopped at cuddling, that was more than I'd ever even dared asking of him. In fact, I would never, ever, not in a million years have broached the subject with him. No way.
But this... Oh God, it was tempting!
I kept myself from pinching myself visibly, but pressed my nails into the ball of my one hand that was out of view for him. Yes, it felt normal. Probably not a dream. Alternate reality? In which case that gave even more reason to jump on this like white on rice.
I had to buy a little time. I didn't want to, but it was the smart thing to do. Sammy would approve. I nearly grinned at that.
“What would you get out of it?” I asked. Even in an alternate reality, I couldn't really have this be a situation where I take and don't give something back. That would not be relaxing at all, and seriously bad material to masturbate to.
He looked solemn, then sad, then resigned. Then up at me. “I'd rather spend your lifetime cuddling up with you nightly, than having to see you pour inebriant into your body one more time.”
“Well, don't sugar coat it for me,” I flipped back at him.
Then it occurred to me, that answer only took care of one emotion. Yes it was a solemn answer. I had seen three in rapid succession. Why had he been sad and what had he resigned himself to? So I pressed onward. Cas had created a situation where I had nothing left to loose, so why not?
“And what else?”
He lowered his head, ran his fingers over my thigh. I squirmed involuntarily before I caught myself. When I got my body under strict control, I exhaled slowly. This was not easy, guys.
Cas pulled in a deep breath, his hair seemed more ruly now than it had been before. It was like it had a life of its own. It made him look calmer, and I noted that all the shudders that had run through him before he glumped me, had disappeared while he had held me. I allowed myself instant joy at that thought. I had been good for him also. It hadn't been entirely selfish to protract the hug that hadn't been my doing, but that I'd kept up as long as I possibly could've.
Cas's tone was low and rough. “It would also enable me to finally take care of you as my charge to a fuller level of the intent that's required of me. It's my job.”
That sounded like BS to me, and it still didn't cover the smile he had shown briefly but clearly at the notion of him being the cause of my erection.
“And?” I grabbed his arm and massaged the muscles there. “The truth now,” I demanded, then followed it up with a murmur of, “Please.”
He looked up and hit me with such a disarming stare, so open and full of great feelings, it tried to break me. I would've turned away, but I couldn't. He had me and I think he knew it.
Only a whisper came out. “I am sexually attracted to you, Dean.”
My fingers started to feel like they were burning on Cas's arm. I felt my face heat up like a freaking teenager. He is what?
“I didn't know,” I whispered back, lamely.
Liar! My mind cried out against me. Then: Let go of his arm!
But I kept internally deaf to all of it. I must have turned to stone or something. The world stopped turning, I'm certain of it. Time stood still.
He is what?
The whole concept of Cas wanting to have sex with me, it was like something out of another universe. My head was spinning. Okay, metaphorically only, but it was. Whirlwinds were driving herds of antelope through my foggy brain.
What would it look like? Cas wanting me. What would he say to arouse me? Where would he touch me? What would he do to make me come? How would he come and where?
My cock filled up furiously as blood was pumping rapidly everywhere now. And Cas looked down again.
“Your body approves, though,” he said, finally. His voice was still a whisper, as if afraid to proceed from here.
He'd looked so strong and commanding before. Now he seemed timid and very close to fragile. Cas could do night and day in the space of thirty seconds. Kind of like Sam, I had to admit. Still, everything Cas said and did seemed infinitely alien, whereas Sam was comfortably human to me. I understood Sam, but I didn't get Cas at all. Ever.
Not that that has ever prevented me from wanting to fuck him through the carpet.
But even I couldn't deny that it was clear how scared he'd been to confess his desire after so many years of friendship. I understood that much. I could relate. Boy, could I ever.
I was suddenly bursting with pride for him, that he would come clean and be true to himself. After all these years after he had been puked out by his own kind and he actually developed a personality and taken on free will. Now, he had professed his actual desire, regardless of what I would do with it.
The best thing yet, he desired me. He desired me.
What the hell did he see in me, that was anywhere remotely desirable. Why would he be willing to spend every night with the champion of messed-up crappiness?
Does he really desire me? Or was it just my needs that he was reacting to? I knew he would happily lie about a lot of things, but this would be a very underhanded type of ploy.
“I'm sorry,” I managed and pulled away. I wanted him to have some dignity here, not have to deal with my unruly hormones.
Hell, no one could possibly want to deal with any of my shit, and I couldn't blame them. I didn't want to deal with any of it either. Living out rampant fantasies and hot and heavy sex for the hell of it were okay, but only if it was reciprocal, fun and very, very brief. No commitments, ever. Lisa and Ben had taught me that much.
Commitments get people hurt.
I was grateful I hadn't gotten them dead. Every day I was grateful for that, and that was largely due to Cas' help. Even though he knew I hated him at the time, he did what I asked. He set them free. I knew he absolutely did it for them, because he loved people. But I also knew that really, truthfully, he did it for me.
“I'm uncertain,” Cas broke into my thoughts. I'd almost completely forgotten about him sitting there with his confession hanging between us. “You wanted to know, Dean. I'm sorry if it's not pleasant news.”
“No, Cas,” I sucked air into my lungs so fast I almost started spluttering. “It's pleasant news. I swear.” I had to stop getting totally stuck in my stupid head. I had a real live Angel here, whose brain was probably doing overtime right now.
“Ah,” he sighed and smiled unsteadily, the last bits of tension slowly ebbing from his body. He wriggled and seemed to get more comfortable, his hand touching my thigh, still. But in a friendly way this time. “Good.”
“I, ah, was just thinking that it must've taken you some real balls to actually tell me that.”
His eyes darted to my tell-tale jeans and back up. “I wouldn't have chosen to volunteer the information, no, but you explicitly requested it.” He took a moment, tilted his head and squinted his eyes a bit as he held my gaze. “My Father created humans in binary form. You've demonstrated your preference for the female kind and Jimmy wasn't a woman. I have to accept that this is the vessel that I have to work with.” He bit his lower lip briefly and I was completely mesmerized, hanging onto his every word, though none of it was actually making it to my brain cells at this stage. “My vessel won't be compatible with the specific tastes of certain people.”
He was throwing together too many things that needed nitpicking, which I really didn't feel like doing right now. Too late in the evening, but also too scientific. But I knew what he was getting at. Male, female. He knew it came down to that for most of us humans, and he seemed to have made his decision about where I stood in the sexual arena of life.
Had it been anyone else but Cas, I wouldn't even have considered answering any insinuations about my sexual preferences. It was out of bounds and not up for discussion as far as I was concerned.
I kept my answer level, but he had to get this straight. “You know nothing about my tastes, Cas.”
This situation that was very improbable, but none the less actually happening at this moment, was the only exception that I could ever imagine coming up for breaking my blanket rule about not divulging any specifics about my sex life to anyone. Yes, I would make an exception for Cas, seeing as I was finding out he may have some done some lusting after me, while I'd been lusting after him behind the scenes. Or what I thought was stealthily out of sight.
And let's be honest, Cas always needed extra explanation, usually about things that everyone else already knows. Definitely more than Sam ever required to have the world explained to him, even though Sam had always been full of questions from the moment he could talk.
Cas was a whole other thing, a frigging Angel, and probably not binary like us humans. I really didn't want my head to start crunching that one right now. I certainly didn't want to think of him as unisexual, or some such craziness. I'd have to reconsider all the fantasies I'd ever had of him.
So I tackled the only bit that I could even vaguely reasonably talk about. “For starters, what I demonstrate I desire isn't the same as what I actually desire.”
He let his now cool hand travel back over my nearest hand, gently and slowly, as if asking for permission. I curled my fingers around his, in confirmation.
“You use subterfuge?” he asked after a moment's pause.
“No.” I steeled myself for giving sex-ed to an Angel. “Well, it depends on how you look at it, I guess.”
I figured I'd be best off pretending he was a 12 year old Sam and attempted to put it in terms Sam would've accepted. “This is Kansas, 2015, right? Not exactly the most progressive place in the States. I can't be a kick-ass hunter and go around showing all my sexual desires out in the open. For women it's okay, and when I play that up a lot I get more kudos. For some reason, social custom says, it's a badge of honor to be lusting after babes, but if I make a peep about being turned on by a guy-” now I looked down to his pants, trying to make out in the black on black if Cas was reacting like a human being would, when talking about sex, “everyone gets all freaked out. I'm suddenly pidgin holed as queer and I need to answer a lot of personal questions. I loose respect and I get a whole lot of bad attention I don't want.”
My cheeks were really burning now. Okay, so this was not quite like doing the birds and the bees with Sam, way back when. Not that I was any good at it back then either, to be honest. I didn't like saying any of this out loud, to anyone, ever. The closest I ever got to saying anything about sex with guys was in a back alley with a twink who was more than willing and small enough for me to overpower at any time, should the whole thing go south.
There was no way I could explain all that to Cas. “Listen, man, I keep my interest in dudes on the down low. I ain't answering no personal questions. Where my dick goes is no one's business, except for me and the person it's touching. As long as I do my job,” - saving people and take care of Sammy - “no one will even think about asking questions. I need my privacy. I can't do the sexual self flagellation thing, cause it would make me a target. I don't need no extra attention from my own kind. I get enough of that from your kind and Crowley's lot, if you know what I mean.”
He kept holding my hand and sat in silence for a moment. “Do you mean that Sam doesn't know about your bisexual desires?”
I winced at his graphic terminology, really wishing he'd keep words like that to that whisper he used earlier. “Look, I don't know what he knows. I don't talk about that with Sammy, okay?” Cas looked puzzled. “In truth, there's nothing to say. If I had intentions to settle down with someone, a man or a woman, that'll be the time to tell him.”
I felt all the tension that I'd slowly seen disappear from his frame transfer to me and settle throughout my entire body. Especially my stomach wanted to turn into a knot. I was laughably happy that Dad was nowhere around to hear this from his yes-sir Hunter-son. Blissfully for me, he would never know and I wanted to keep it that way. He'd turn over in Heaven after tearing me a new one if he ever found his boy doing other boys, that was for sure. I didn't even want to think about what he'd do to me if I ever let a guy do me. That was just completely out of the question.
Cas was still silent, which was becoming unnerving. “I swear, I'd be open about it to the important people around me, if I had someone.” Dad was up there, hopefully not looking down on me, and I still had to live my life down here, in as far as possible. So yeah, I stood by that. I deserved my privacy – something for myself. Like this room, which was fair game to my personal angel, so privacy was scarce. Always had been. I accepted that.
But if someone who really ticked my box wanted me also, all that would go out the window in a New York minute. “I'd shout it to the world and challenge anyone who would threaten me and mine, if I had someone who loved me, who wanted to share a life with me. I gave my all, as crappy and broken as it was, to Lisa and Ben. I wish I could've been better and done more for them, but it was all I had to give at the time. And I fucking well would do it again, damnit, but only if I can keep my Love safe.” The fire that was locked deep down inside, blazed up briefly. If I had a normal life, I knew exactly what I would stand up for. “But that's not going to happen, being a Hunter and all. I can't settle down with anyone the way my life is, and you know that. I can't protect those I love. They die, man. They always die.”
I had no idea if Cas even knew what settling down meant, but I was starting to fly off the handle and at least that felt comfortingly familiar. Anger was good, was solid. I knew where I stood with anger, fear and rage. I knew all about what wasn't possible for me, just because the mother fucker Yellow Eyed demon wanted my Sammy for his army. The legacy that started way before I was even born had determined nearly every step and turn in my life. Who was I to drag anyone into that, because there sure as hell was no getting away from it. I knew that from experience.
I was glad the at least sex one-oh-one part was over.
Cas, who had been listening and had not interrupted my words or my thoughts, finally nodded sincerely and bit his lip briefly, pensively, with a glint of something in his eyes.
“Dean, how would you feel about having uncommitted sexual relations,” he started slowly, letting go of my hand and dragging his up my arm tenderly, “with an Angel,” he cocked his head and the smile was back, “who happens to be in the vessel of a human male?”
I felt my heart beating in my throat, as his hand caressed its way down again.
Cas's glint became strong. If he were human I'd say he was becoming aroused at what he was suggesting. “I know I feature in your auto stimulation, but I feel strongly from what you've said and what you didn't say, that fantasizing about touching a human male or thinking about engaging in a particular sexual act is not equal to actually wanting to do so.”
“Ain't that the truth,” I breathed, willing him to do much more than gently stroking me. His husky voice and the unfamiliar sexual heat in his eyes were turning me on big time. “Cas, I'm game to spend this sleepless night rolling in the hay with you. In fact, I'd be honored.”
He broke out in a genuine, loving grin. I could see him start to beam, not sure I was imagining the room getting slightly brighter as his joy became more visible.
“Will this bed do, as 'hay'?”
I almost giggled, more and more relieved and exited at his uncharacteristic forwardness. “Yes, Cas. The bed will do fine.”
“Then I am also game,” he said thoughtfully, sending my heart fluttering like a teenage girl on her first make out session. Two beats passed before Cas added, “What would you like to do now?”
I threw my head back in amazement, really past dealing decently with the sexual tension that had been building up, so I blurted, “I really want you to rip my jeans open, take my cock out and use that beautiful mouth of yours on it.” Sue me. I wasn't a teenage girl and never had been. So since he asked, I gave it to him straight.
Then I quickly sobered right up and realized I cared deeply about how that had come across with the much lesser experienced Angel. I didn't even know if he was defying any laws of Heaven right now, for God's sake. I had to reign myself in if this was going to have a snowball's chance of going anywhere. And I so wanted it to go somewhere. Anywhere and everywhere.
I took a steadying breath and I thought about it for a second, how to go on from here with him, especially so he wouldn't freak out and disappear on my ass at the wrong time. Correction, at any time, thank you very much. I wanted to see this through if he was really serious about it. I didn't want this opportunity to pass me by, so I was going to do everything in my power to cater to his needs, so I could have what I'd desired for a long time. Maybe, maybe we'd get there. Cas was certainly giving me a lot of hope for some really good loving tonight. My cock wanted me to hurry up, but I had to stay in control.
I straightened out on the bed, put a hand on his shoulder, and caressed the back of his cool, gorgeous and delicate neck. His expectant and eager staring at me made me feel at ease, but it was too new, maybe he was too much a virgin, mentally, a young buck, emotionally. I'd go as slow as he needed me to.
So hoped my words and my body would be a clear offer to him. “Actually, Cas, just feel free to do what you want. I'm good with anything.” I moved closer so he could kiss me if he wanted to, giving him options. “We can take it slow, totally as slow as you want. We don't really have to do anything at all if-”
Then he kissed me. He shut me up good, and I immediately felt a heady response to his taste, like a very soft drug or a mild beer. He was spiked, that was for sure. My shrinking world focused in on the sensations of his full lips on mine, soft, pliable, and nipping at me. It was as if he were trying to figure out what he wanted to do with my lips, like I was a new toy. I silently loved that thought. Dean, redefined as Cas' toy. Yes, I'd sign up for that in an instant.
I'm kissing a bad ass, seriously powerful, resurrected me type of powerful A ngel. What would Dad say?
Taking advantage and getting into a questionable intimacy with a being that could overpower me at any time, was part of Dad's don't-you-ever set of rules. Hell, Cas was not just that, he could easily smite me with the flick of his wrist, or however they do it. Dad would be thrash me bad for exposing myself like this.
'Never get it on with anyone you can't take down in one move, boy.' I heard his words echo in my head, making it hard to think of anything else. Followed by another echo, 'And make sure Sammy never gets used.'
At 16 and even much earlier, I knew exactly what he meant. I knew all he wanted was to protect his boys. Sure, Sam was quite a cute little thing when he was underage, jailbait without a doubt. Sam was pretty stunning as a grown man too, but we rarely came across anyone bigger than him that he was interested in. Someone being more powerful, though, that had nothing to do with size. And yes, Dad would've kicked my ass back to hell, for letting Sam get taken in by Ruby. Dad would blame me. Hell, I blamed me.
But this was here and now, and Cas was the closest to family I had in this world next to Sam. I trusted him. Apparently, my mind insisted on bringing up the subject – Dad may have been watching - but I slammed it down, hard.
I didn't give a flying fuck what Dad would say, no matter how he'd conditioned me. This was my choice and my opportunity at something. A very brief, short, hopefully amazing something. And I wasn't going to have anyone interfere. If anyone was allowed to stop what we were starting here, it was Cas, and no one else.
And Cas wasn't a virgin anymore. He must know the mechanics of what he was initiating. Him being with April was quite an eye opener for me, but in retrospect, when he was Emmanuel, he must've had some sexual experiences with Daphne. They were together for a few months and found time to get married even. Surely on their wedding night, at least, right?
I don't buy any claims of a sexless marriage, even for a strange creature like Cas. Wasn't that what people got married for? Steady relationship, steady life, steady sex. Sign me up.
But not for a Hunter.
When Cas had scored with April, he had lost his Grace so he was sort of human, and with Daphne he was still an Angel. Cas rarely spoke about how either of those states had affected him. And he never talked about sex at all, at least not with me, but I was going to go with my info that those were the only hot flesh he'd ever had, so me, a man, would be seriously different.
So I could only assume that he would need time to explore and find out what he wanted from me, so I intended to provide him with all the time he could possibly need. Making this good for him was priority one.
While I was wasting my time thinking, Cas's dry touching of lips turned wet when he opened his mouth and started to suck in my bottom lip. Thinking went out the window as my more pressing need took over. I pulled his shoulders closer, trying to gauge whether he was up for moving further or not. To my relief I felt no resistance, instead he seemed to melt into me, which was even harder to resist.
Cas kept the lead on the kissing and he started to become more intense, groping me, pressing into me. He was sucking my tongue into his luscious mouth, while I circled his back, letting him do whatever he needed to and it felt like he wanted to climb into me, meld with me. His urgency was getting me so turned on, that I had to keep myself from ripping his shirt off. It was next on my list though, getting skin to glorious skin. Clothes just simply would not be acceptable for very much longer.
Then I lifted him onto me. I suddenly felt his normal weight drop by half. I stopped.
“Cas, are you doing that?” I asked, feeling unnervingly unnatural with a full sized man on my lap without feeling him press down on me. It suddenly made him ethereal, unreal. The ethereal, celestial Angel he was, which I kept forgetting, or denying, and I'd been definitely very close to not caring. I wanted him, but I wanted to feel everything of him in his human body.
Cas didn't seem phased, just annoyed that I'd broken the kiss. He pushed his head closer to mine, which made the whole no-weight thing even more of a crazy mind-fuck. “I did that for one of my female bed partners. She really appreciated it.”
I chose not to reflect on the clearly off-the-wall kinks of the women he'd been dating. “Look, Cas, I'm not some waif of a girl. I can take your weight.” I considered it and added, “I mean the weight your body should be.” I didn't want the weight of the Empire State Building crushing my thighs, thank you very much. “Like, human weight.” I couldn't be too careful with Cas.
“Are you certain, Dean? I know you're tired. It is no effort on my part.”
I pressed him down on me, manhandling him to sit on me and spreading his legs so he had to fold them up beside my thighs. He was moving with it, allowing it. I knew full well I didn't have the strength to make him do anything he didn't want to. “I need to feel you, damnit. Physical presence, bad ass frigging reality, man. I'm not fragile, you can't crush me.”
Cas wriggled his ass on my thighs as if to get the feel of things. Then he said, “Yes, I can,” matter of factly, possibly even slightly uneasily. “And yes, you are.” True concern was now ringing in his words. He pinned me with is blue eyes, serious face from head to toe.
Humans are like ants to Angels. I smirked at him. “I know that.” He went back to wriggling his ass and puttering about on me, but I won't be distracted. “Cas. Please.”
He closed his eyes, dropped his head a bit, hair just long enough to jingle down his forehead as he did. Then he became heavier and it felt so good to have him sink into me. He opened his eyes, a question mark all over his face. Was he worried about me? I just wished he'd relax and let things happen.
“Gravity, I love you,” I breathed and grinned at the quizzical look he gave me.
Now we were squishing jeans crotch against suit crotch, I could feel his junk press against mine, but there was too much between us to get more out of it than pressing and squirming. He went back to taking total command of both our mouths and tongues and I could feel his chest heaving against me, though he made no sound.
Again, the last two minutes had thrown me out of the throes of passion like only Cas could, and he was drawing me back in just as fast. I never made love this way. I liked to go slow and steady and build up to as high as I could make it.
With Cas it was like being on a zigzag roller-coaster with some maniac hitting the brakes at irregular intervals. Not that would trade being here with him like we were now, with any one or any thing in the world.
All in all, I couldn't believe I finally had my Angel in a definite, intentional, sexual starter position. Before today if anyone had told me this would happen, I would've called them three fries short of a happy meal.
Now it was all getting real. What else would be possible, if Cas wanted to do this with me? God, is he really kissing me?
The thinking wasn't helping! Hormones kicked back in, even with Cas driving this car with his foot on the brakes, my hormones didn't need more than half a second to pump the heat back up to high.
I started to moan into this throat and he immediately pulled back. He was searching my face with his eyes. I thought was going to probe me with his hands next. Like I was some sort of alien.
I was panting, not interested in interrupting the billowing passion again, so I waited for him to make whatever decision he needed to make.
Nothing seemed forthcoming. I croaked, “I'm here. I'm good. Let's go,” breathlessly. He didn't move, as if he didn't know what it all meant. I tried to put him more at ease. Anything to move this car forward. “Whatever you want to do, I'm fine with it.”
His voice was deep and near a whisper, when he finally answered, “If that is true, Dean. Would you be all right with fewer clothes and more sliding of skin?”
“Are you kidding?” Holy Hannah, Cas was shy! God, I kept forgetting he was practically a virgin. “Definitely, man. Have at it.”
He started to unbutton my shirt, and I fumbled to unbutton his. It turned into a bit of a logistics problem with so many hands and fingers trying to do technical work on the buttons in roughly the same area. I really wanted to rip his clothes off, but then someone would have to sew the buttons back on again. Or could Cas do that Angelicly? I had no idea and not much of my brain power was willing to be spared to think about it. It was all I could do to not turn violent and tear his dress shirt off him.
When I was squirming out of my upper layers, I could feel him pulling my t-shirt out of my jeans. He pulled it up over my head, getting stuck at the chin area, and I finished it for him. Before I had completed any of that, Cas's hands were on my jeans buttons. I gasped.
“I was aiming for no obstructions,” he said, all throaty and sexy. “Should we take it in stages?”
I nodded and shook my head all at the same time. “Naked is good. No stages necessary.”
“I'm relieved,” he sighed with a little squint and frown. “The logistics are more difficult to organize in my head than normal. I'm hoping it's a temporary condition.” He pulled his undershirt off and let me start on his belt.
I was stuck on 'logistics' as well, until it sank in what he'd just said. “Do you mean you're so turned on, you want to tear my clothes off?” I could help but beam with pride. Cas was so hot for me he couldn't think straight.
He stopped and looked startled. “You're disappointed at my lack of experience.”
“No!” I let go of undoing his pants and drew his naked chest to me, pulled him all the way on top of me and I lay back against the headboard. His legs slid down my body and I was now feeling his skin along my skin, even with our pants still on but everything else gloriously naked.
His warmth was clearly noticeable. He was probably running a bit of a fever by human standards, but I was loving the slight radiation coming from all parts of him that were pressed alongside me.
“Gods, no, Cas. I'm too happy to be touching you to be disappointed over anything.” I wasn't a fan of virgins, but it occurred to me, that even with Daphne and April as notches on his belt, Cas was most definitely a virgin where men were concerned. “But I'd like to know what you want. So you tell me, okay? I'll make it really good, whatever it is that you want.”
The whole 'cuddle' concept floated back to me, as we were lying, half dressed, side by side, and after the steamy tongue wrestling, I was really hoping there would be more. But it was up to Cas, ultimately.
And Cas wasn't speaking. He lay snuggled up to me, his warm head buried in my neck, like he was breathing me in.
“Am I your first man?”
A tremor went through him. He whispered, “You always were, Dean.”
I couldn't even deal with what that meant, so I went back to what I meant.
“I'm talking about sex with a man. I know you've been with women in the last few years.”
Cas trailed his left hand down the length of the side of my torso and he slid off slightly to the right to access my jeans again. He just left his hand there, teasing my eager hard-on. He probably didn't know what kind of effect that had on my hormones. I stifled the whimper that craved to escape me.
He pushed himself up a bit with his other arm, examining me. “My Father created mankind and most of his earthly creatures in a binary division. I see the beauty in his creation, but the significance of the duality is not so defining to me.”
I blinked. He'd completely lost me. Really, this was the kind of topic that I'd rather have Sam around for.
“English, Cas, please.”
“In your English,” he started to intermittently tug my lips with his again, driving my hormones wild. “I don't care whether you are male or female.”
I chuckled at that. Then kissed him back, hard, urgent, probing my tongue into his mouth, exploring then pulling back out and sucking his into mine, until he started to breathe shallowly. There, that's what you do to me.
“Well, I do care,” I said after releasing him, feeling satisfied he was getting at least some of the insanity of overload that I was getting.
“Cas, what I need to know is do you have any idea of the mechanics involved?”
“I have the knowledge of all of mankind's literature, with a bias to the Western heritage. What you would call the First World and the Second World.”
“Like America, right?”
He kind of shrugged, as if he'd already said that, and attempted to kiss me again.
“Close enough,” I decided, but put a finger on his lips, to stop him from taking over for the moment.
I assumed porn didn't count as literature. I had no idea of whether there were any books out there on gay sex. It wasn't something I'd ever had the opportunity to delve into: literature in general and gay books specifically. But I was pretty sure there were some books out there that there were on heterosexual activity and human physiology in general, so he should probably be able to imagine the mechanics.
Okay, we should be good to go.
“Take it as far as you want, then,” I said finally and removed my finger from his lips, slowly, but not without stroking his lips as slowly as I could. It was giving me a chance to look at him, really look at him, with that desire in his eyes and that messed up sex-hair that he always had, but now he had it with me. He had sex-hair because of me.
I knew I'd love to fill in the holes in his knowledge, and all the holes in his body for that matter. Basically I was so ready I was about to pop out of my neglected jeans.
There's only so much rational thought anyone should expect of me when my hormones were telling me I was way past due for getting properly laid. And I had Cas lying here, touching me, kissing me, where a few hours ago I had no idea this would ever even be possible: head-spinning time, fellas!
“Just tell me what you want, Cas,” I encouraged again, hoping the brakes would finally be lifted and this baby would get on the road.
“I want everything,” Cas breathed huskily, blinking as if trying to get his eyes to focus, “This body wants to experience more. I can easily ignore it. I'm in control of this vessel, but I- I want to let go.” He ran his free arm across my chest, firmly pressing and caressing me, aimlessly wandering. “Do you understand?”
I understood about wanting, and I understood – all to well – about controlling it. But, no I didn't truly know where he was coming from. I wanted to hear more, I needed to hear it from him. “Tell me, Cas.”
“I've wished for your physical affection for so long, Dean,” he all but whispered, a confession of the highest order. I knew how he felt, boy did I know. Had we been on the same wavelength all along? It seemed nearly impossible.
Before I could get sucked into pondering that, he pulled me even closer, scooting down on the bed and lifting me onto himself with one arm, until I was lying on top of him and he was completely horizontal.
I had never been lifted like that before, through a loving embrace, self-assured strength and undeniable power. Cas gave me no time to think about it as he claimed my mouth outright, more confident now, as he was learning to take control, to be bold and assured in bed. Oh my god, in my bed.
I didn't resist when he sucked my willing tongue into his mouth and started to play, probe, feel everything. A sense of desperation was clearly coming across from the way he was french kissing me.
I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and head and really held on to him, using more force than I had ever done with anyone before, because I could. I knew I couldn't hurt him, and it was freakishly freeing. Something I had never done with any girl before, or even with any guy. Only in fights was when I used my whole strength on anybody and at those times it was never sexual, although half the time I walked away with a hard-on anyway, especially from a kill.
I knew what a turn-on physical power was, but I had never had the opportunity to use it, even with very willing women. I had carefully never been with a man who was physically stronger or more skilled than I was.
Now I didn't have to hold back.
This was unique, and not just because Cas was an Angel. Sam was bigger and stronger than I was, even though generally I could take him down in an equal fight, simply because he wasn't the killer I was. And even then, I always held back.
In a sense, rolling in the hay with Cas had as much to do with physical prowess and caring as carefully lifting Sam up into a fireman's carry. I could use my full strength on him, without needing to be gentle and cautious, but I had to protect him at the same time.
Strong desire leapt through me as I tried to squeeze, press and push Cas with all my might, while he was using his mouth on mine, even on my whole face, down my neck, wherever he could reach. This was more like a fore-fight than foreplay, and it was seriously hot to be licked and sucked like that, and to let the reigns go myself. Definitely a first for me.
His passion egged me on, fueling the fire that Cas was setting to a roaring flame inside me with his mouth, hands, body. I couldn't be bothered to care about his lack of skill, or mine for that matter. This was the first fully powered Angel I was making love to, because Cas had his Grace back, and he was all robust and fiery, no holds barred. The heat between us was starting to spark.
Slowly, whenever it was that my brain decided to function a bit again, I realized that what he had said earlier meant something, something I needed to apologize for.
He had admitted to having waited for me for years. Why would anyone do that? How much must that have hurt?
“I'm sorry, Cas,” I whispered when my mouth was let go for a second.
He stopped all movements at once, but held me in place, as if he needed to check some records in an old filing cabinet. “Should I stop?” he asked breathlessly.
“Stop?” I tried to use my immobilized arms and legs to wrap myself around him and continue, but there was no fighting the unmovable rock that Cas had suddenly become. Total solid stillness. “No, what are you talking about?”
“Then what do you regret?” He examined my face. I knew I must've looked pretty damn disheveled by this time.
I couldn't turn it on and off like he could. My body would not respond to some controllable mental off-switch by force of will. My brain wasn't in full working order what with just having been wildly sexed up relentlessly by the person I've been fantasizing about for years. My erection was pressed into his pelvis and it was unyieldingly hard. I felt my hips trying to rock against the beautiful reality of his body and getting lost in the search for stimulation.
He was waiting for an explanation, nothing more, nothing less. It was obvious he wasn't going to let us move until I gave him one. I was starting to understand what he meant about being able to control his body.
“Fuck, Cas,” I flailed up my arms. The only time I'd ever been able do that, while I was on top of someone without falling on my sex-partner, because he kept me firmly in place. I really could get into this! Was this what I gave women who were small enough for me to fling them about the room during sex? Was this what it would be like having sex with Sam?
“Man, I didn't mean for you to stop,” I started again, before I could get totally lost in my fantasies. “I was just trying to apologize for being a complete douche bag, for not seeing that you wanted me all this time.”
He tilted his head, shifted me about, like he was getting his arms comfortably under and around me. He was definitely not letting me go. “Then you didn't know of my affections?”
“What?” I felt rational thinking return somewhat, which was disappointing in a way. Getting wholly engulfed in sex was decidedly what I preferred to sign up for, any day of the week, any time of day. For a brief flicker there, I even thought that sexual abandon was going to be on the menu tonight, but Cas seemed to want to keep thinking, want to keep having conversation.
He was talking again. “I had always assumed you knew I placed you before all other souls of my Father's chosen, Dean.” He pushed up his chin and seemed to grit his teeth. “It was my sin to bear, from the very beginning of our acquaintanceship. I told you I was shamefully demoted within the garrison for caring about you, Dean Winchester, more than any others in my charge.”
I didn't know what to say to that. Yes, Cas had said something like that to me, years ago, but at the time it had sounded like an accusation, like he hated me for it.
Cas looked down, a defeated air about him, shame and failure, playing about his face. He sighed, almost human like. “I assumed you ignored my advances, because you had the same distaste of my shortcomings as your guardian Angel.”
“What?!” I didn't know what to react to first: his assumptions about me, or his mistaken beliefs about his supposed failures!
He looked up at me and a more solemn Cas was here now. Gone was the passionate Cas of a minute ago. I wanted to kick myself for interrupting passionate-Cas, while he had been here. Fucking never do that again, Dean, I told myself, but that's only if I ever got another opportunity to see his passionate side again.
He sighed, “If you weren't able to recognize my seduction of you, I may have to rethink those conclusions. Perhaps you didn't know, so I will need to learn new techniques as to how to woo a human.”
“Cas! Damnit! Stop it already.”
I sighed in relief.“Don't you put all that on yourself, you child. You keep acting like I'm this great big oracle of all answers to everything. I can't live up to that. I get things wrong. I miss signs.” I waved one free hand about trying to find the right words, or at least something that makes sense. “If you've ever heard Sammy talk about me, you should know I'm a jerk, who needs to be bonked on the head where emotions are concerned.”
He crinkled his face, as if considering the actual action.
“Metaphorically,” I added, just to be sure. “So if something doesn't get through to me, please be smart enough to realize it's because I'm a dufus with too much on my mind.” I cradled his head in my hands. Time for some truth. “I am the one who didn't care enough. I'm a selfish bastard who never stopped to ask you about what you wanted. Hell, I even threw you out of the Bunker, because my need for saving Sam was overshadowing any concern I should've had for you.”
Maybe I was rambling now, but there were hideous truths that I couldn't deny. I held his face and ran both thumbs along his cheekbones, tracing them to his hairline and back.
“I don't deserve to be treated well by you, Cas. I know that. I've ignored you and I wasn't there when you needed me.” I swallowed thickly, hoping I could keep any sort of chick flick outburst at bay. “But please don't ever say your feelings for me or anyone else is a sin. Your feelings is what makes you-”
“A renegade Angel, scorned by his own kind?” He looked contrite and seriously uncomfortable.
I couldn't speak for Angel-kind, just for me. “They make you you. Remember Team Free Will? That's what being human is about. You're not a robot or a hammer. You have feelings, and they're yours. You have a right to express them. Okay, so it was very subtle, I had my head too far up m own ass to read you properly.”
“I wasn't raised to have feelings,” Cas said slowly, like he was considering each bit of information separately. “I have much to learn about expressing myself.” He paused a moment. “Dean, you hide your feelings,” he said, matter of factly. “Like your sexual interest in men.”
Okay, so Angels have social codes as well. I could dig that. “Some things don't need to be high profile, as long as you can let the person that you want to know it know.” I settled his chin between my right index finger and thumb, and persuaded him to follow what I was saying. “Until you feel so strongly about something, that it needs to be shouted from the rooftops, come what may. Until then you can still feel them, own them, know they're what make you, you.” I kissed him slowly, gently. “I am proud of you, for standing up for what you believe in, every time. You're not and never have been a coward, Cas. I'll never despise you.” Okay, I had failed dismally on keeping the chick-flick claptrap at bay. I was almost done, but I forged ahead for one last part. “Will you believe me?”
He nodded, that look emerging again on his face and even in his body, when he was listening to me explain the world to him. Like an apprentice listening to his guru. I wasn't a fan of it, but at this moment, I could try to use it to make him feel better.
“No matter what you do, there will always be hordes of people, Angels, creatures, who'll despise you for what you are, or what you do, or the choices that you make. Sometimes for your very existence. That's the world your Dad created, man, but we have to live in it.”
“'You can't please all of them, all of the time,'” Cas said confidently, sounding like he was quoting from something or another.
“Yes, I'll go with that. So I figure it's best to just please myself, without getting my head shot off or running too high a profile on any front.”
Cas pulled a face, losing his innocent look quite efficiently. “You have not succeeded, Dean. You are one of the most hunted humans on Earth.”
“By Heaven and Hell and the creatures that go bump in the night, maybe, but Joe Schmoe doesn't know I exist, nor does Uncle Sam. And I like to keep it that way.”
“I need to keep out of human records also,” he said, nodding in agreement.
I laughed. “Good, at least we're synced on that.”
I considered what to do next. I was comfortable in a way, but being held on top of Cas wasn't so erotic anymore, now that we'd covered personal growth, local politics and our status of being hunted by the entirety of the Supernatural world.
“You still want to do this?”
Cas nodded again, earnestly. “At any time that you are willing.”
He kept startling me with these comebacks of his. It was confusing, flattering and unreal. All of Cas was just very unreal. This whole situation with him didn't feel like part of this world anymore to me. I wanted to blink back into reality, but it wouldn't help. I knew I was awake and this was happening.
I drew in a long breath. “I don't know about you, Cas, but this is suddenly about as hot as a ten dollar hooker on a Monday afternoon.”
He studied me for a long minute. Then he lifted me off him and I slid to his side, full body contact still in effect, but now under my own power. I snuggled against him, getting comfortable.
Cas said slowly, “I'm also aware of a change in atmosphere. Would you like to cuddle instead?”
I melted firmly into him. “Damn, Cas, you're-” I wrapped myself around him completely and put my head onto his bare and very real chest, sliding against his chin. If he were human, I'd probably be close to choking him, but I didn't have to worry about such things with my Angel. “You're the best,” I simply ended. I made no sense, I realized.
He slowly exhaled, I felt his ribs go down and then back up. His arms came around me and he was stroking my back. “Thank you, Dean,” he said simply.
I pushed my face into him and hoped no one could hear me. “I never want this to end,” I whispered.
“That would be difficult,” he sighed. “We will be expected to make an appearance in the morning. Sam will be looking for you, if you stay in here longer than the norm.”
I started to smile into his broad, comfortable pecs. He was totally adorable.
“No, I didn't mean it literally like that.” I pulled my head out from under his chin, pushing myself up against his bare chest a bit, but didn't face him yet. “I would like more than cuddling, if it's still up for offer.”
I had to push my luck. I couldn't help myself. “Now?”
I was guessing he was waiting for me to make eye contact. I wasn't ready.
I finally managed to get out what I needed to say. “Cas, don't ask me to put things into words that I spent a lifetime keeping in the dark.” Please understand me without me having to explain. I felt the lump appearing in my throat again and swallowed it down. I don't even understand me. “I can't say any more.” I hoped my voice sounded normal enough.
One of his hands started to stroke my hair. “Dean.” His voice was taking on a different quality. I could feel the soft low timbre rumbling through his chest.
I closed my eyes, choosing to just feel and not think anymore. Just feel his fingers weaving through my cropped hair, massaging my scalp, and stroking all the way down my neck. His other hand was coming up and stroking my arm, all the way down to my hip.
I wanted him to undress me. I was hoping he could read my mind, even just a bit. “Cas,” I breathed. “Yes.”
Did he get the message?
He gently rolled me on my back and I refused to open my eyes. I must've been struck with the silly stick, because I never, ever had sex with my eyes closed. Can't let my guard down. But now I just wanted to feel, not think, and I let him do whatever it was he wanted. I was an idiot for wanting this, but I would let him. Absolutely anything he wanted.
“Yes,” I repeated as an open invitation, a blanket agreement, a green light.
Cas was stroking me and kissing my neck. Then he started to plant kisses down my chest.
I found rekindled desire and began a struggle for air as he worked sensual magic on me. I had run out of words, and I was grateful for it.
Cas worked his way down in an erratic pattern to my belt and there he stopped. I knew he was waiting for more green lights, so I felt my way to my hand on his head and pressed him slightly down. Just a tug.
“Dean,” he repeated, his voice even more silky then the previous time. He pulled at my belt and fumbled around. I ran my fingers through his hair, noting and loving the unnatural heat of his skin again. I gently held onto his thick hair and reveled in the reality of it, a reality I didn't want to ever let go of.
Finally I was able to open my eyes and I nearly gasped at what I saw. My disheveled Angel was on all fours, leaning on his elbows and bending down so close to my cock, it stunned me completely. My hand was still buried in his now beyond disheveled black hair, and his mouth was hovering over the opening of my jeans. Open, patient, expectant.
That's when I realized, he hadn't been fumbling at all, like I had assumed. Actually, he'd undone my belt, the buttons of my jeans and he was waiting for me to catch up with him. His eyes formed the question. I could read it as clearly off his face as my ABCs.
I tugged at his hair with a brief goodbye and moved my hand to cup his face. “Anything, Cas,” I gasped. “Whatever you want.”
The room lit up with his smile. He truly smiled at me. Had I seen him smile before? Maybe something like it, when he was innocent, insane or relieved. Yes, I'd seen him in many crazy states. But this was a purely happy smile, which softened his face to something unbearable and irrepressible. I stopped breathing for a good while. It was too much.
Cas lifted my hips with one hand and pulled my jeans down with the other. It's all so easy when you've got celestial strength. I grinned, knowing how he felt, doing that with me. I had done it with many a small woman before, but no one had ever done that to me, possibly with the exception of Sam after a drunken binge.
That was love, but this was sex. This was totally different. This was also the antithesis of a drunken binge.
My boxer briefs were still in his way, but he pushed the elastic down and I let out a strong hiss when he - finally - touched my straining cock. He fumbled a bit with the logistics of getting me free, then pushed the elastic band under my balls to prop them up when he finally did.
I was panting, not knowing what he'd do next, but hoping for something, anything! Cas was about to become my lover.
He crawled over my leg and scooted down on the bed, crouching between my legs.
My eyes must have been popping out of their sockets. I'd fantasized about this very moment, this exact situation, so many times, but I never actually thought this would happen. Even in the extremely messed up world I found myself living in, I had never believed this would be possible.
Cas put one hand at the base of my cock, steadied it and started kneading it. I was rock hard and was just able to stifle the moan that wanted to come out.
Normally I was a master at quiet sex, given that there was rarely any privacy, but Cas somehow posed a bigger challenge. I figured Sam wouldn't hear much through two doors and being all the way down the hall, but I didn't want to risk it.
Then Cas locked his blue eyes with mine while he moved his head down to lick the top of my penis. My head fell back momentarily as the shock of his tongue on me washed through me. Did he want to see my reaction? Well, here it was.
“Please, Cas,” I managed, barely.
He licked again. Then as I groaned out my pleasure, he took the engorged tip into his mouth. He held me there and started to work his tongue around the head, slowly, calmly. Drawing pleasure from me as his tongue moved along the underside, then flicked the top, and around the underside again.
I was gasping for breath, trying to not cry out at the intensity of the pleasure. I grabbed the headboard behind me with both hands, thrusting myself against it, straining every muscle I had.
Cas was not bothered by any of this and took his time. He was no longer watching me, but watching his own hands around the base of my cock, while he was sucking and kissing my erection. It was like he was making a study of me, testing theories out that he thought would work.
Crap! I had forgotten what he said about seeing me masturbate. Eighty-seven times! Had he seen everything I did? Maybe he had only caught glimpses, but even so, that amounted to a whole lot of glimpses. Basically, I realized, he knew what got me off.
“Cas, you little shit!” I managed in between groans and pants.
He stopped. “Is it not correct?”
That gave me a moment to catch my breath. I couldn't believe I would admit to myself that it was a welcome reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure I'd been under. I didn't know how much time he'd been at it. One minute, ten? Enough for my heart to be thumping like I'd come twice in a row and my fingers and toes to start tingling with the insanity of it all.
“Oh, it's very correct.” I felt reason come back to me. “You'll get me off soon this way if that's what you're going for.”
Cas didn't let go of my erection, but he sat back up. “Is that the best way?” he asked.
His hands kept teasing my cock, trying to interfere with my returning, but flimsy hold on coherence. I swallowed and I kept sucking in shallow breaths. In all honesty, I never wanted this to stop.
“The best way,” I panted, “is to make it last.” I squirmed, just thinking about endless ecstasy at his hands. What a way to go!
He frowned and quit teasing me. He didn't move at all for a good while. He seemed to be thinking things over.
I just had to know. “Cas, how much have you learned from those eighty-seven times that I, you know?” I nodded towards his hand on my erection.
I watched his demeanor shift from confidence to ashamed.
“I didn't mean to watch you, Dean. Especially after you talked to me about personal space, I knew I shouldn't take advantage of my ability to not reveal my presence.” He seemed to be searching for words.
I hoped the scolding I'd giving him about privacy in the first year or so of knowing him hadn't messed him up too much. Educating him was never one of my favorite pastimes.
Then he found more words, “But watching what you did was instructional.”
He crawled on top of me, lay down with his full human weight crushing my delightfully happy cock under his stomach. I almost purred.
He stroked my face with one free hand, then settled in with his head on my right shoulder and stroked my side, slowly up and down. “I didn't understand about carnal desires and privacy until I lost my Grace. That was when I recognized what I had done to you were not the actions of a friend.”
I was too busy trying not to purr from utter deliciousness of having him melt into me, to realize fully what he was saying. In fact, I couldn't make sense of it. “What're you talking about? You didn't do anything to me.”
I swear I thought I saw him blush. “I - ah - masturbated to you.”
I let that sink in. The thought was totally hot beyond belief, so I wasn't quite sure what was wrong about it.
“You did? Seriously? When I was-” now it was hard for me to use the words, but hey, in for a penny, in for a pound. “When I was jerking off?”
I waited. Maybe he'd get there by himself.
Then, very low and very penitent, “When I was human.”
Cas ducked his head in the crook of my neck. I could feel the tension, all over his body.
He definitely had his confessional face on, when he explained, “When I sensed the carnal urge come on, usually in the mornings, I touched myself like you did. And then I saw you flash in front of me, from my memory of you pleasuring yourself, and it felt even better. So I- I used you.”
I could barely stifle a grin. “I hate to break this to you, Cas, but that's what humans do. We want to jack off. Sometimes we think of something that gets us all hot and bothered.” I stroked his back. “It's one of those things we don't talk about, but everyone does it.”
Well, everyone I knew did. Everyone I talked to. Not that I talked to anyone about this, like, ever.
I couldn't blame him for being confused - no one had given me any sex-ed either. And he'd been human for only such a short time. It must've been quite a lot to have had to deal with. Behing human was more than adding eating and sleeping to his daily ritual. He'd lost all his powers and was sensing the world in a whole new way. I tried to warn him to take care of himself, but what did I do? Yep, I threw him out of the Bunker when he came to me for help. He was on the goddamn street and I threw him out.
I wanted to tell him I was sorry again, but it would only confuse the conversation. And I felt 'sorry' just didn't cover it. There was nothing that I could do now that would erase that selfish act back then.
Meanwhile Cas was still confessing. If he needed my help now, I would be burning in Hell again if I didn't give it to him.
He sighed, a forlorn sound I really didn't like. “There's more, Dean. When you were yearning for me, I came to you and I enjoyed what I saw. In the beginning, I was puzzled until I understood what you were doing. Then to hear you say my name when you were in that state became something else, something I wanted more of. It would be hard to compute how many times I thought about that. I savored it. I used it. I violated your privacy, and-”
That was enough self flagellation, as far as I was concerned, so I cut him off. “Cas, so you got off on the thought of me as the centerfold in the Playguy. So what?”
He shook his head. “I should've respected you. After I ejaculated when I was human, I understood for the first time what you were feeling. How important and how intimate the act of pleasuring oneself is. You are not a Play-anything, Dean. You are my friend and you're in my charge.”
I loved all this, all except for the shame he insisted on. Did I really need to make him stop saying all these things that just made me giggle and warmed me up inside like nothing else? Only Sam had ever come close to affect me like that at all. Usually all Sam had to say was 'jerk' and all was right with the world. But this - this wasn't coming out of Sam's mouth and it wasn't what I had ever even dreamed of I would hear from Cas, or anyone at all, really.
But I couldn't stand undeserved confessions. So okay, I had to interrupt. I would do so under protest, though, under protest to myself. I was kicking myself, but the truth was, I loved him too much to let him beat himself up over something that I thought was adorable about him.
“Alright then,” I said sternly. “I want you to promise me one thing, Cas.”
Again with the readiness. It made it hard to keep the edge on this conversation.
I kept my voice firm and level. “Just so you get this straight, right? I don't want you to come back with vague misunderstandings about this later.”
“Yes, Dean.” He cast his eyes downward, resignation showing in his body, ready to receive his punishment.
“Any time you want to get off on me, and I mean any part of me. You listening?”
He nodded, but he wouldn't look up at me.
“You concentrate on that fantasy and I want to you masturbate as long and as hard as you desire. I want you to scream my name, and then I want you come tell me about it afterwards.” That would be delicious. “But that last part, only if you want to.”
I looked down at him and saw his jaw had dropped, like he had forgotten how to close his mouth.
Our eyes met. I said, “Do you know why?”
He shook his head, no sound coming out. Possibly he was busy scraping his jaw off the floor.
“Because I love it when you talk to me like that, when you tell me you are hot for me, that whatever it is about me that you like, makes you want to jerk off all over me or even fuck me.”
We both froze at the same time.
Had I just said 'fuck'?
I gulped. Yes, I had. I couldn't pretend my way out of that, and I found I didn't want to. Penny, pound. Besides, I wasn't done, but my cheeks were burning by now. “And if you ever apologize to me or anyone else for any sexual fantasy you have, so help me, I will come and fuck that apology right back up your ass where it belongs.”
Cas lifted his head, searched my face and settled on my mouth. Our lips touched softly, I felt my body respond, filled with anticipation and yearning. I really wanted to roll him over, pin him down and have my way with him. But too much had come out all at once and I knew I had to let him set the pace.
He may not want to go where I wanted to go. He wasn't even human. Who knew what Angels wanted? And Cas was strange and unpredictable, even for an Angel.
I focused on the kiss, which was delicious in its delicacy, by the way.
“Dean,” he whispered in between our lips.
“I did want to penetrate you when I performed masturbation on myself,” he breathed, sending spikes of heat up and down my whole body. “It was my fantasy.”
“Ahhhng.” Hey, don't ask me to be articulate at this juncture. My head was spinning.
“But I'm willing to apologize,” he continued his hot whisper and kisses. “If that means that you'll feel inclined to fulfill your offer to penetrate me.”
I swallowed, trying to catch my breath. What does a guy say to that?
He drew back a little. “Dean?”
I just stared. My brain had shut down. No one was home.
“Are you alright?”
I gulped, pulled him to me hard, and found a voice from somewhere. “I think my life has suddenly become a lot more interesting.”
Wow, was I that articulate? I was proud of myself!
He smiled and restarted his stroking down my body. I shivered. I was still hard as a rock and I pressed us closer, trying to find his cock inside his black pants, searching for the feel of him against me.
Then it dawned on me. “Cas,” I pushed him off me just enough to see between us. “Why don't you have a hard-on?”
How can anyone be having this going on and say the things he'd been saying, and remain totally unaffected, soft, completely at rest.
“I haven't activated it,” he said, as if it was a button on a console. “We were here to get you relaxed.”
“Me?” I reached down and touched him where I never thought I'd be allowed to touch him.
Cas took the opportunity to squirm swiftly out of his dress pants and his underwear. He was totally beatiful, but I had visual confirmation. No erection.
“Cas, how can you feel passion and lust, and all the things you were telling me about, while keeping this, ah, inactive?”
Cas smiled, happily, friendly, kindly. Oh, how I loved that smile. I wanted it patented and framed and forever in my life.
Cas said, “It is not a problem. I told you, I am not this vessel. Believe me, my sexual desire is not affected by whether or not my penis is fully filled.”
Angels! I reached out and squeezed gently, manipulating his soft cock. “I think you're wrong,” I challenged him.
“I can let the blood flow and set it to any hardness you want.”
Fortunately romance wasn't on my wish-list, because holding his flaccid junk, knowing he was more or less push button controlled, was about as hot as the aforementioned ten dollar hooker. He seemed very sure of himself. I definitely couldn't let that pass.
“I want you,” and I gave him a gentle tug, “to be rock hard.”
He let his eyelids droop and his cock filled up in my hand quickly. Not only was he getting hard, he was also getting sizable. I had had my good days, but that was a very quick rise.
“Please let me know whether this is the turgidity you're looking for,” he said, and I assumed that he meant it literally.
I just had to grin. He was not smug, but there was a little gleam of something there. Maybe some of that Angel pride he was talking about? Or he was just messing with me, showing off his Angel prowess. I'd have to ask him later.
“It's quite good, I'll give you that.” Then I finally gave in to the urge I'd been suppressing for a good long while. I flipped him on is back, laid him down and focused in on his hard cock. “Let me know how this changes the amount of lust you feel,” I said, as I pinned him down as forcefully as I wanted to, pressing his hips down into the bed and I moved to sit across his legs. I had full view of him and he couldn't go anywhere. Well, not accounting for Angel strength. But really, my brain was busy with other things than figuring out the physics of my brand new lover.
I licked the head of his uncircumcised penis. I wanted to make him squirm. I want to hear him gasp and beg and plead. I wanted him to say my name in passion.
Admittedly, I didn't have as much experience with blowing cock as I would've liked to, but I had some to draw on. I was determined to put everything into play that anyone had ever used on me, guy or girl, that had driven me wild.
I took him into my mouth and swirled my tongue around his head, sweeping the flat of my tongue around and pressing the other side of him up against to top of my mouth. Then I pushed him in further, stroking back and forth, starting to bob my head along his cock, pushing him well into the back of my throat.
I'd always wanted to try to try deep-throating and I decided I now had my willing victim.
I realized I'd not heard a peep out of him since I'd started to pay one hundred percent attention to his really hard erection. So I stopped to take a look.
His face was transfixed, not stunned but not calm. Something in between surprise and fear. One of his arms lay flung back, holding the head board. Yes, I knew why he was doing that, seeing I'd done the very same thing when he'd been working me over, so that was hopeful. But I heard no heavy breathing. In fact, no breathing at all.
I emptied my mouth of him before I whispered, “Cas?”
His eyes flicked to mine.
He looked a bit out of it. “Why?”
“Oh, I dunno. One, because it's what bodies do. It's creepy if you don't. But two, you'll feel a lot better, I promise.”
He shook his head. “I already feel, uh, better,” he said, looking confused. “As you said. Turgidity does make a difference.”
I grinned and swallowed a happy 'I told you so.'
“So breathe, it'll be even better.”
“I don't think I can deal with it.”
“Deal with what?”
“Feeling even better.”
I laughed. “So this is what you look like when you're flipping your top?”
He nodded. There was still a bit of freight on his face. “I wasn't aware of this type of feeling. It's different than feeling my own hands or a woman's vaginal tract. Until now, in my sexual encounters, I haven't let my vessel's body take over to this extent.”
I so wanted to go for the 'I told you so!' I couldn't believe my self-control.
“So now you think there's something to us binary types?”
“I'll have to contemplate it later. I seem to be unable to go to great depths of-” He trailed off, eyes sliding half closed as I slowly started to fist his cock up and down using the slick of his pre-come.
“Breathe, man,” I advised. “You'll survive and you'll feel really good.”
He gulped in a breath, then simply moaned it out, head rolling back in abandon.
I had him where I wanted him. I captured his cock with my mouth and started exactly where I'd let off: trying to deep throat him.
I brought him right to the entrance of my throat, when my gag-reflex made me gulp. I pulled back and tried not to cough. Yeah, well, Rome wasn't built in one day either. But I wasn't going to be licked by a stupid gag-reflex. No way.
I went in again with determination, and found myself gulping again.
“Are you alright?” I heard a deep rumble.
“Yeah, fine.” I wasn't going to discuss this with him. Couldn't do a basic crash course on the dos and don'ts of blow-jobs just right now. “Don't worry.”
“Is it relaxing you to do this?” Cas asked.
“What? No. Course not.”
But maybe that was the way to go about it.
I held him firm at the base of his penis, squeezed him and breathed out and in fully. Then I guided him in, pushing him right to the back of my mouth, holding him there momentarily with my tongue. Then I relaxed the back of my tongue and jaw to make room for him and he slid right down my gullet.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't say anything, but I was inwardly jumping up and down. I could just turn my eyes enough to see his face and I saw his amazement.
I pumped him slowly up and down a few times before I had to pull him out and catch a deep breath. The salt of pre-come was strong in the back of my throat as I swallowed gratefully.
I grinned at Cas, firmly keeping a grip on his cock with my hands. “Maybe that's not relaxing, but it sure is satisfying.”
He still had big eyes, but his mouth was forming a bemused little smile. “You are experimenting,” he said, as if that explained everything.
I smirked, reveling in the salty victory. “And I put another notch on my belt,” I couldn't wipe the grin off my face even if I wanted to. No way did I want to let this moment pass. “I get that you don't appreciate it, like a human would, but yeah, that was good.”
“Was it playful or was it sexual?” he asked, smile still bouncing around his mouth. It was almost like he was just plain enjoying me and my enthusiasm. The fact that I was giving him the best blow job of my life seemed a good ways down on his list of things to cheer or worry about.
“Oh, it was sexual,” I confirmed, beaming. “And it was playful.” Come to think of it, it was.
Cas frowned a bit at that. “If it was sexual, then how come you didn't ejaculate?”
“No,” I started, then stopped and started again. “You should be asking why you didn't come, not why I didn't.”
“I was busy being experimented on,” Cas said. “I prefer to concentrate on one thing at a time.”
Fair enough, I decided. “Was it relaxing you?” I asked, using his words back to him.
“No.” He was very definite about that. “But I found myself mesmerized by your experiment. It provided a mental satisfaction that is more than just the signals my body was sending.”
“I get it,” I said lazily, stroking him with one hand and lying back down next to him. I found I wanted more body contact, while he was talking. Cas was going on forever with the talking. But then this night was never going to be smooth sailing from the moment he'd inserted himself into it. And besides, by now, I never expected anything to be without bumps. I liked my Angel just the way he was, talkative bumps and all.
“You just love watching me, don't you, Cas? You just think I'm hot.”
“Certainly,” he rumbled, without hesitation.
I smiled at that.
I found I had made a decision then. I wasn't sure how this would pan out, but I would try to tell him the truth, at least about this. I wanted to start somewhere small. No need to rush into things that may be a bad plan in the light of day.
“That was my first time deep throating,” I whispered.
“You mean the experiment?”
I nodded, head now back on his chest. “I could never let go enough with anyone else to try it. Gotta keep on my guard with strangers, you know.”
He breathed slowly and let silence stretch.
“You did well,” he said finally.
“Thanks.” I stopped myself from going mushy on him, biting words away from my tongue that wanted to turn the whole thing back into a chick flick.
“Can I try?” he asked after another long silence.
Little Dean was immediately fascinated. “Seriously?”
“I'm interested in experimenting as well,” he calmly explained. “I'm unlikely to find a stranger for this either. It seems the right time for it.”
I wholeheartedly agreed. “Yes, it's great timing. Be my guest.”
We switched places, me snuggling into a pre-warmed memory spot on the mattress, propping myself somewhat up against the wooden headboard.
Cas took a breath and I could see his Adam's apple bob up and down sharply. Then he put his hands on the base of my cock, exactly as I had done to him, and placed his mouth at the head of my decently hard erection. Could be harder, but Little Dean wasn't used to all this back and forth.
Cas opened his mouth and I saw my cock slowly, but surely, nearly being swallowed whole. Then I was being pushed up into his throat and then he dropped his tongue to let me in. I went in so far, I could hardly believe it. It was like watching a porn movie, but up close and personal, and the girl, or the guy in this case, was deep throating me and not some nameless dude.
I knew my semi hard-on was now a full on one and he was squeezing his hands around the base of it, while pushing me deeply inside his throat, moving up and down a bit, deeper than I've ever been blown before. I had started to moan without realizing it and then failed at stifling it.
He was pushing himself down on me and sucking me in, then pulling back a bit. And again, setting up a steady and incredibly hot rhythm. I started panting, knowing I would come straight in his throat, if he continued very much longer. He didn't seem to want to stop.
Then I realized I had forgotten, he didn't need air. He could keep this up indefinitely. I was with a man who could deep throat me forever! I moaned, undulating my hips, but he didn't let me move much. He had me where he wanted me, and I couldn't blame him. If I could do that, I'd do it to him until I made him come screaming so loud his sibling Angels could hear it. I just hoped my own sibling couldn't hear us.
But then he slowly moved his head up, sucking at me while pulling me out of his mouth, and he ran his tongue against the tip of my cock as he finally let me go. I was gasping for breath at this point. He had stopped just before I had been able to come. Like he knew it, had timed it exactly. Damnit, he was doing it on purpose!
“I think I get a notch too, now,” Cas said, deliriously throatily. He even grinned, looking thoroughly self satisfied.
“You have an unfair advantage, you despicable tease,” I groaned, trying to regain some control from having just not come by a hair's breath. “But hell, yeah, you deserve a whole row of notches for that one.” I wasn't sure I really would have wanted to come like that or if I was starting to enjoy the insanity of continuously teetering on the edge, while being asked to have a conversation about said mind blowing blow job. I was winded, panting randomly, and found myself squirming up against him almost uncontrollably.
“I agree with what you said earlier,” Cas continued thoughtfully. “The deep throat experiment is not relaxing, but it is very gratifying.”
“Like duh,” I gasped. He didn't seem to get the message that I was in great need here, so I forced some of the hard edge of desire back down to a more manageable level. Otherwise I'd find myself jerking off right in front of him. I rolled my eyes. Not like that would be a first, apparently! And not like I wouldn't perfectly enjoy doing that some other time.
“Yes,” Cas agreed. “I'm interested in participating in more experiments, Dean.”
I laughed, still working on catching my breath. “One where you let me come, or only the ones where you bring me to right to that edge and then savagely leave me hanging?”
“I am endeavoring to make it last for you,” he said. “It's what you requested.”
“Jeez, Cas, not indefinitely, please.”
“Alright. You'll have to inform me when you want to ejaculate.”
“'Come', dude, 'come'.” I didn't want to feel like I was a biology documentary he was watching on National Geographic. “Humans come, animals ejaculate.”
He shrugged. “Humans are animals.”
“I'll leave that to the philosophers. They're a higher pay grade where it comes to the hot air department than me. Coming is more than ejaculation alone. It's about the orgasm, how it feels, the explosion, the oomph of the whole sex thing, man. It's what makes the world go round. You had orgasms when you were human - you should know.”
He remained silent, and crawled up to lie beside me as we had done several times now. Talk time, again, it looked like. Oh, Cas, I sighed. It was like making love with a frigging alien.
No, scratch 'like'. I was making love with an alien. Pure and simple. And it was totally off the reservation, pretty near all of it. No wonder we have a few communication issues going on here.
“It is hard to reproduce the human carnal experience as an Angel,” Cas said eventually.
“Angels don't orgasm?”
“I don't know,” he shook his head. “It wasn't part of my work within the garrison.”
“You mean, you weren't trained for sex or sexual behavior? You guys have to be trained for everything?”
He didn't agree or disagree with that. He just said, “Balthazar was more experimental than I was.”
I nodded. “He seemed pretty sexually active to me.”
“He certainly had more occasion,” Cas said simply.
“Well, that's very cryptic. We humans, we have to make our 'occasion', otherwise nothing will ever happen. We go out to find it, find some willing person, or if that fails, a willing pieces of ass.” I considered the differences between my love life and Sammy's. “Well, some of us go looking for sex. Some of us just go without.”
Cas looked down. “I never went out to find it, but I when faced with the opportunity, I said yes to the offer of casual sex with April. And it was great,” he smiled at that, probably enjoying the memory of a good romp. “But she was not someone to have a relationship with.”
“Nope. The killing you in the morning part made that pretty clear,” I quipped.
Cas was silent and didn't move. He was too still, and it occurred to me he might be trying to open up to me too. Or had he just exposed himself too much?
My hormones were well enough under control again to give a deeper subject a shot. “Cas, are you saying you're looking for a relationship?”
He stayed meaningfully quiet.
“Dean,” he didn't look at me, voice as low as it tended to ever go. He then sighed, leaving me to wonder what he was feeling. “I understand your life, your concerns. I would never ask.”
Okay, words were more informative than silence, but this was way too cryptic in the dead of night. Not to mention my mind having been blown plenty of times and in several different ways tonight already.
“Ask what? Ask me?”
Cas put a hand on my arm and splayed his fingers. “Ask for you,” he whispered.
He didn't exactly touch me where his Hell-rescue brand had been, and not even in the same way that he would've grabbed me then, but it felt like he was remembering that moment when he pulled me out. I still vividly felt the scarred and embossed brand he had left on me, the mark that had been healed a long time ago by him as well. There was no trace left of it now, except on my damaged soul, which would never forget. He had healed, changed and remade me in so many ways since that one pivotal moment when he had rescued me from the deepest, most unspeakable horror of my life.
Chills ran down my cooling body and cold sweat started to break out wherever Cas wasn't touching me.
He sought out eye contact, but didn't raise his voice. “You're the only one I ever desired, Dean.” I had to strain to make out his words.
My throat closed up. “Me?” I could barely hear myself, while he locked me with his steady, openhearted gaze.
I might as well have admitted it. Cas meant me, only me, forever.
I couldn't take that on. It was too much, he was too much, he had no right to put that on me. I would fail, didn't he know I would fail to protect him?
No, he couldn't want me, he shouldn't want me!
His eyes were blue and open and real and so fine, that I drowned in them at that moment. He didn't blink, he didn't look away. He held me there, shame-free truth being the only thing he was oozing.
In thousands upon thousands of years, Cas had never desired anyone like he desired me now. How could that be? I was too insignificant? Why was I even on his radar?
I felt the stinging behind my eyes trying to get through. I didn't want to be this important to anyone. It was the same as with me and Sam, me and Lisa and Ben. This kind of feeling led to death, destruction, demon deals and degeneration, and everything that was the opposite of life.
I pushed him off me and sat up, flinging my legs over the side of the bed. I felt like throwing up.
I told myself quickly this was not like Sam. Nothing was the same as me and Sam. With Sam I didn't have a choice. Sam was always there and I had to make sure he always would be.
So no, I didn't understand what Cas felt for me, because I had never felt it for anyone. I could never get past Sam.
The sickening constriction in my throat was getting loud and insistent, starting to pound in my ears. I tried to swallow it down, managing to make it go away, but then I felt the rest of me start to tremble. I put my head in my hands, trying to keep myself under control.
Cas was somewhere around, distantly, but all I really knew was I was naked and alone, cold and sweating.
“Dean, I have troubled you when you need rest.”
I felt gentle hands like feathers enveloping me and I surrendered to the sensual softness on my skin. I leaned back into a comforting chest. Calmness was flooding me from the warmth of the nurturing, steadying embrace.
My head started to clear from a the fog I hadn't seen coming, and I found I could draw in a blessedly quiet and unobstructed breath.
I hurried to put Cas at ease. “No, you didn't.” I folded my arms over his, wondering where the feathers had gone that I was sure I had felt. It was purely skin on human skin now, but for a moment I had been sure I'd been touched by something more. “Not your fault, Cas.”
His chest gently rumbled against me when his low voice spoke. “You're under my care, Dean, first and foremost. Whatever you need.”
Cas's words were soft, coming at me slowly, gently flowing over me and I finally let go completely. I let him hold me and support me. I closed my eyes again and allowed my muscles to relax, like I was floating on a lake.
A timeless moment passed in companionable nothingness.
Then I felt myself being lifted in a way that can't be described by human action or terms, and he laid me back on the bed, in the warmest of warm spots. He ran a hand over the length of my body, in the wake of which the cold sweat that had felt so bitter just now had disappeared.
Here I was, warm, dry, my fears dissolved away, and I had a definite memory of those awesome feathers.
“Cas, is that what your wings feel like?” I opened my eyes to see if I could detect anything that my touch had told me had been there earlier. But nothing. Just a gloriously naked Cas.
He smiled benevolently, angelically. “Do you feel better?”
I nodded. He hadn't answered. Maybe he didn't need to.
I grabbed his arm. Time for the truth now, open and without any misconceptions.
“Cas, listen to me.”
He was still and the rest of the world disappeared for what I had to say to him.
“I can't desire you back. I mean I can. I do, even. But I can't be yours.”
I heard myself and I hated what I was saying. It wasn't coming out right.
Cas didn't move and I was sure he wasn't judging me. I saw patience in his eyes. I could go on to try again.
“It's Sam,” I confessed, my voice so low, it might as well have been a whisper. “Get it? Sammy comes first.”
He nodded, open and judgment free.
“I can't commit to anyone, so it's not you. It's the same for anyone. I learned that with Lisa and Ben. It doesn't matter how much I loved them. And I have to be there for Sam.” It still wasn't right, but the rest of me pleaded with him, hoping he understood what was so hard to say.
Cas closed his eyes for one second, then was with me again, like he had made a decision.
“You see it, don't you?”
“I understand,” he said, love in every word. “Sam is in your charge. You love him, you will put him first, come what may.”
I blinked. Wow, that made me sound really heroic, or like a martyr, or something. But no, that wasn't it.
“You are in my charge,” Cas continued, “I will always put you first. Sam needs you. So you will put him first. Of course I understand.”
I felt the stupid tear fall before I had even known it was going to do that. To hell with no chick flick moments. This was just not going to get right, unless I burst this bubble of perfection he had created of me. So here went.
“You do that. You. Not me,” I said, much more harshly than he deserved. “You're great, not me. I'm slime, I'm poison. Anyone gets close to me, they bite the dust, over and out. For sure, no exceptions, possibly even you some day.”
I ran a hand over my hair, trying to gain control.
“Don't put me on your saintly pedestal, Cas, I'm the furthest away from actually protecting anyone, especially Sam. Sammy is actually worse off hanging around me. He should get the hell out and never get within a state's distance of me ever again. But he won't, and I won't ask him to. I can't.”
Then I felt that despised second tear dropping with a thud on Cas's arm. After that I refused to count them anymore. I ignored it all.
“Yes, Sammy was put in my care. He needed me. There was no one else, not even Dad, so I put him first, my number one priority. But at some point, I put me first. I needed him too much. He got out of the Hunter's life, but I got him back in. He died, and I got him back. He peacefully wanted to go with Death, again I got him back. And you really think I was doing all that for Sam? Because he was in my charge?”
I looked away from Cas's searching blue gaze, as he was listening and absorbing.
“I'm a selfish fucking bastard and I know it. Sammy doesn't need me, man. But I can't-”
That was it, I couldn't finish it. I hoped I'd said enough, I hoped he finally understood who and what I really was. And maybe, just maybe he would want me anyway? Was it too much to hope for?
“Dean.” The lowest of deep voices sounded softly in my ear. “I have seen your connection with him. I will never stand in between you and your brother, no one can. He is part of you. The bond of brothers, of family is one of the amazing things my Father created.”
I needed time to let all that sink in, what he was saying and that we were even having this improbable conversation. I had let my guard down more tonight than I had in my entire life, and I was still here, still breathing, still alive. And Cas was holding me in his arms, like he would be there forever if I asked him to.
Cas said gently, “I want you to have Sam always. I will help you keep him safe.”
I felt calm return to me, and I ran my hands over my burning cheeks, denying there was ever any sissy moisture there.
“Dean, I'm not asking to take Sam's place.” Cas took a moment before he continued, “You would feel better with Sam, here, right?”
He was right. I couldn't admit it out loud though.
“Would you prefer to relax with him in your bed, instead of me?”
That got just a little scarier, and I certainly would never admit to wanting to clutch Sam to my chest every night, keep him safe and never let him near a scary-ass monster ever again. Nope, not going there. So I waved his concern away, “Hey man, we just got our own rooms, for like the first time ever. I like my privacy.”
Cas smiled. “I don't think you do.”
“Sam doesn't want me messing with his privacy anymore than I do either. He's happy this way.”
“No, he's not,” Cas stated, now quite firmly.
I tried to stare him down and it threatened to become a stand-off, but he was right, so what was the point of fighting about it. “Maybe he's not,” I met him half-way. “Now that we've got that out in the open, where does that get us?”
Cas shrugged again. “I still desire you, Dean Winchester.”
I nearly blushed. “Wow, you sure have a way of being a cock tease.”
He tilted his head at that. Then he looked down at my very wilted erection. He directed his next word at my genitals and said joyfully, “Desire.” Definitely a tease. He was enjoying this, I could tell.
I twitched involuntarily. How there was any life left in my hormones at this point, I had no idea. I felt like I'd gone ten emotional rounds with a heavyweight prize fighter. Quite honestly, all I wanted was my fifth of Scotch and my headphones with some sweet music to get through what was left of the night.
But Cas was working on a different set of thrusters. Angelical powered, for sure.
He slid his hot, naked body down, then over me, and then up, all along my length, letting a maximum amount of his skin slide on mine, bringing sensuality back into forgotten limbs and organs. Life kicked back into my hormones and my cock reawakened - somewhat angry about how the evening had gone - and I suddenly felt those delicious but maddening near-orgasms from before tugging at me, calling me to arms.
This was the time to state expectations, like he'd asked. “Cas, I'm happy to go along with pretty much anything you've got in mind, but this time, man, I need to come.”
“Alright, Dean.” He sounded happy to comply. He crawled back up me, and just about covered all of me with him. I have no idea how he did it, and I didn't care at this point. I just wanted more.
“I have a request to make,” Cas said slowly, ponderingly. “You say you are willing to consider any sexual act with me.”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“How do you feel about sodomy?”
Wow. Descriptive much. I hadn't even heard that word come out of my father's mouth, ever. But he'd been very clear he wanted me to stay away from anything remotely close, even though he'd never actually say the words. To Dad, men who wanted sex with his boys were wolves preying on his sons, potentially even monsters to kill, before they killed us, or worse. He'd taught us to stay far away from any advances by guys.
If dad could hear this now! I grinned widely.
Well, Dad, guess what. Here's your son, being propositioned to commit sodomy with an Angel. A male Angel, if that meant anything in the large scheme of things. And your son wants it so bad, you would turn in your grave.
The rules had been for us while growing up in an unsafe environment with lots of unattached men around. I got it. I understood it then, and I get it now. He had to protect us, and one way or another, he did. Good or bad, he did everything he could to keep us safe, under the circumstances. So I agreed with him, and I made sure we steered away from anything remotely reeking of sex with guys.
But damnit, I wasn't fifteen anymore and Sam wasn't eleven. We were grown men with free will, and we weren't jailbait anymore, innocent and corruptible. I was perfectly capable of knowing what I wanted to do with my own dick, or any and all other body parts for that matter.
So instead of quipping away Cas's funky Angel-speak, I pulled him close, kissed him hard and deep before saying, “I'm totally down with sodomy. Where do I sign up?”
Cas let out a happy, relieved sigh and lowered himself on me. “Then,” he said, while starting to shower me with kisses, “I offer myself - me and this vessel - to you.”
I held him still for a moment. “Are you sure, Cas? It's not like being poked with a stick. And it's not like it was with your women.”
“I will only know for certain when I get there,” he answered honestly, just as Cas would always answer honestly. He tilted his head a bit, like he often does. “I'm interested in the journey.”
At least I had some experience with fucking guys, and a random woman or two, so I would be able to help him along the way.
I considered the pros. I laughed out loud. There were legion, starting with me fucking Cas and ending with me fucking Cas. And I couldn't find any cons.
My dick was ready and willing, in fact even wanting and gagging for it. Fucking Cas: that was beyond sexy, moving right on into the pornographic zone.
“Okay, we'll take it step by step. By the numbers.” I pushed him off me for a second while I grabbed the lube from the night stand. “We'll need this.”
He nodded sagely. “I know.”
I fumbled for the condoms, then stopped. “We don't need this?” I asked, holding one up, figuring there was a small chance it might actually be pointless to use condoms, considering what Cas was.
He smiled. “No, we don't,” Cas confirmed.
“No, we don't,” I echoed, realizing that for the first time in my life, I genuinely didn't need a condom. That was definitely another notch on my belt. Hell, nailing Cas would supply me a whole host of notches. My belt would crumble under all the carving that that would do to it.
Then I found myself on pause. “How do you want to, ah, position yourself?”
He pulled himself up in front of me and turned around, pushing my legs apart, then kneeled in between them. He ended up sitting up on his heels, his toes pointing at my junk. “I think this would be a good starting position.”
He looked back at me over his shoulder, displaying his muscled and naked back for me to enjoy, to take at my pleasure. I swallowed, I had better not screw this up. I swore to all that existed between Heaven and Hell, I wasn't going to fuck this up.
Cas interrupted my careening brain. “Is this correct?”
That was my un-pause button. “Any which way you want it counts as correct in my book.” I was good to go.
I scooted closer and hugged him from behind, reached the bottle of lube out over my other hand in front of him and drizzled some down. The silence was so not silent. I felt our skin touching everywhere, his back leaning heavy against my chest, and his healthy heartbeat was reverberating through his rib cage.
I had never felt this close to him before physically, except possibly when he was beating me up, shoving himself against me, to go in for another deafening pounding. I liked it even then, even though I was losing the fight and was bruised and battered everywhere. It was Cas being in my face and manhandling my body, even if it was in anger, that just stood out above all else that was going on.
I couldn't believe the memory of that alleyway rumble was giving me a crushing hard-on. Or was it Cas' back, arms, ass, legs, neck, which were right now all mine, in my bed. His face, so calm, happily waiting for me to get ready to fuck him, I just couldn't believe it.
Stay focused, Winchester, I told myself. My Angel had made a request, and I'd be damned if I would let him down. No way would I let any of this slip through my fingers.
“Let me know if I hurt you,” I whispered into his neck. “I want you to feel good, but the start can be tricky.”
He nodded. I examined him, seeing a bit of a shiver run through him. His smile was thin and Angels don't get cold. Nerves?
“Not to worry, Cas. You're not my first roll in the hay.” Just the first one I ever cared about. “Yelp if you don't like it.”
He manned himself up, sucking in a steady breath, and put on his determined face. “Please proceed, Dean.”
I brought my hand down to his ass, because I was quite capable of doing this part only by feel. This way I could keep looking at him, holding him and feeling his reactions. I smoothed the lube around his opening and then slowly nipped inside with my middle finger. Just a bit, slicking out and in again, to bring the lube in.
Cas was breathing hard, turning his head back halfway, but I could still see his frozen semi-smile very thin and he was screwing his eyes closed.
I stopped. I was still hugging his back, pretty much holding him in place with my knees on either side of his hips. My other arm was now free to find his cock.
He hissed in reaction to my touch, but mumbled, “Continue.”
I pushed my finger up higher into him, feeling the tight hole give way a little, while folding my other hand over his erection, just holding it at its base. Cas seemed to be working his sphincter muscle, because it loosened up quite a bit faster than I had been used to.
“Okay, gonna try two fingers now,” I let him know, and then slowly pulled the first one out, at which Cas definitely hissed some more. Then I put two fingers in. They were so slippy with lube that they slid in quite fast. I made my way to the end of the sphincter muscle, finding the roomier opening I'd been looking for.
“Yeah, that's a good thing,” I assured him. “I'm gonna open you up now.”
I didn't even know if he wanted a blow by blow, but it made me feel better to give him subtitles as to what was going to happen. Either way, he was busy whimpering and didn't object to any of it. He looked mesmerized, spell-bound. I let the rush go to my head for a moment, knowing I had him where I wanted him, well, almost. A good ways there, and with promise for all the way.
I still couldn't believe this was truly happening. I needed to get inside him and fuck him until he would cry out my name. I needed to hear him loose it for me. Then I would believe that this wasn't some sort of insane fantasy of mine.
But I really needed to get myself under control first, in order to do this right. I was going to make this good for him, that was number one. I could jerk off to the unbelievable memories later, now I had to concentrate on doing a good job here.
“One more time, Cas. I need to get three fingers in you, to make sure there's enough space.”
He moaned at that, his volume turned to low. I was grateful, cause I didn't want Sam busting into the room, thinking I was being attacked in the dead of night or something and find us, well, like this.
Sam, damnit. I couldn't think of Sam right now. Odds are Sam would know right real quick.
What if Sam knew? Fuck it, if Cas really did become my lover, then I wanted Sam to know, but I knew for sure I could never bring myself tell Sam myself. Hell, he'd probably find out from the stupid grin on my face in the morning, and he'd grill Cas until he confessed.
But I was determined that this one night stand was not going to get on his radar. If this was all I'd ever get with Cas, then this night was where it would stay, just between us, private, and hot as hell, with many masturbation sessions later played to this memory. Right now I would settle for any of that, because it was so much more than I expected on a random night, or, like, ever. Cas was mine and only mine for this night. No one else ever needed to know, because we would know.
I forced my concentration back to Cas's ass sitting on my hand and realized I was over-thinking things again. How lucky can a guy get? I mean, look at us. Seriously.
I gently pulled my two fingers out and put three at his opening, still holding him tightly to me. “Ready?”
“I am ready,” he confirmed solemnly, as if he were taking the priesthood. The rest of him betrayed that tone. He was trembling, breathing shallowly and his steamy cock was as hard as I'd felt it when he had consciously created his erection. I knew this one was for real, not just a swell-at-will kind of deal.
I was bursting with pride. My thoroughly sexed-up Cas, my doing.
I slowly pushed three fingers in and it was going okay until his sphincter hit the second set of my knuckles. Cas fell forward, toppling over his knees, panting harshly, taking me a bit by surprise and pulling my hand up in a way my writs wasn't built for. His cock was pulsing, and my hand was now completey stck, wedged between his thigh and stomach, so even if I wanted to - which I didn't - I couldn't let go. I moved forward with him so as not to hurt my wrist, and I could feel him closer, panting, sweating. All the things that I had thought I could never do to him.
I wish I knew what kind of ecstasy he was feeling, because that looked awesome. I couldn't remember having had that kind of orgasmic reaction in any of my sexual escapades. Cas was setting the bar high for me to ever find a contender to rival him in bed.
Then again, who was I kidding? Was there really something or someone that could compete with this, like ever? Even if he hadn't surprisingly been a total nympho in the sack?
I pushed up a bit, managed to get my hand unlocked from his belly-thighs death grip, timing it in between his heaving, panting breaths. I started to stroke his back. “You're alright,” I whispered.
He shook and haltingly straightened back up, retaking his former position. “I know. I am. I'm fine, Dean.” All this in between gasps, while he started to get squirmy. “I'm letting the vessel feel.”
“I can see that,” I smirked. “Top notch vessel, I'd say. Go, Jim-boy.”
He smiled crookedly. “Dean?”
“Please continue. I seem to need you to continue.”
“Oh.” I had actually completely stopped, but my fingers were still up his ass, and slowly sliding deeper into him, due to the blessedly endless slipperiness of the lube in combination with his weight again pressing down on my hand.
I felt the inner opening appear at the tops of my fingers and started to twist them around. I was hoping that I would be able to slide in easily, if I got him this well opened up beforehand.
Cas was moaning, low and breathlessly, in tune with what I was doing. He was looking back at me, searching me, while riding the pleasure. He definitely looked like a horny alien, now, all question marks and wonder, while completely surrendering to the sensations.
I wanted to kiss him, pin him and pound him into the mattress, then fuck him forever, put my mark on him and make him mine, so no one could ever take him away.
“Cas,” I managed, figuring I'd have to give him some notice, at the very least. “I'm gonna enter you now. The sodomy stuff we were talking about. Okay?”
Please please please, say it's okay.
“I wish it,” he slurred breathlessly, eyes half closed. “Go ahead, Dean.”
It occurred to me I should warn him how hard I was going to screw him, but I couldn't manage it. I just nodded, pulled my hand out of him - hearing him grunt was so satisfying - and grabbed the discarded bottle of lube to slick myself up, groaning as I felt my own touch wreaking havoc with my flimsy self-control. I was telling myself, I just had to get this right, then I could let go. Just hold on a bit more.
Then I pushed Cas forward and he went willingly, up on his knees, his ass turning up to face me. I kept manhandling him until his hands were on the bed supporting him, ready for me to fuck him senseless.
I told him, “I hope you meant it,” my warning was nearly voiceless as I sat up on my knees on the soft bed and positioned myself at the entrance of his ass, keeping one slick hand there, to make sure everything went smoothly. Then I pushed inward and the first bit went in easily. I stopped, feeling the heat of his body surround my head and how hard he was squeezing down on me.
Cas was shaking, hissing, gulping, sighing. He seemed to fight for control of his body - his vessel - which he had surrendered earlier willingly, in order to feel this. To feel exactly this and to make love with me like a human.
That strengthened my resolve, or melted away my qualms at any rate, and I proceeded to push in. I slid slowly forward, feeling the incredible heat of Cas envelope me, almost asking me to drown in my feelings and to come live inside of him.
I was finally through the tight grip of his sphincter and hit the open plains of his rectum. I could push onward more easily and couldn't keep myself from finding out how deep I could go.
“Nghah,” Cas started to writhe under me. I held onto his hip with one hand, and used my lubed hand to keep his back in place, in as far as skin on lubed skin will allow that, which wasn't damn much at all.
Where were the tissues when I needed them? Or a towel. I had prepared so badly for this, I couldn't believe it. Total amateur hour, man. But not the fucking, that was purely top grade. I was going to give only the best to Cas, and the best was yet to come.
I kept pushing, he kept writhing and then I was totally in. I had him. Now it was just a question of whether his prostate was hard to find or not. And the small matter of controlling my own instincts that were insisting to to take him now and relentlessly pound him stupid until I came.
“Cas?” I wanted to move. I needed to move. “Cas?”
“Good,” he finally managed, the writhing now stopped. He breathed deeply a few times, clearly trying to get grips on his reactions, which he could probably do more easily with Angelic mind control. My guess was, he was trying to find a mode in which he could both control and ride his body.
In a flash I was proud of him, how quickly he was picking this up. From, 'I'll activate it when I need it,' to total abandon and pulling back a bit to find a way to marry both needs that sex required, all in the space of a few hours. Damn, Cas was good. Fucking a virgin didn't seem too boring now, after all. It wasn't about me, any strokes to my ego, it actually was all about seeing him grow. I couldn't have been more pleased.
“Yes, Dean,” Cas said finally in a steady voice. “Go.”
Green light! I closed my eyes, held his hips with both my hands and pulled away from him, then slammed back into him, groaning as I felt my cock being massaged by an overheated sex machine. He's got to be burning 101 degrees in there, I could swear it.
I was fucking an Angel. Was I really? The whole thing felt improbable, hot and surreal and for a moment I wondered if this was just an oversexed wet dream I was having.
I pulled away again and slammed into him again. We both sagged with the impact and resonance throughout all that we were. This was nearing the peak of what I'd ever felt fucking anyone before. No, definitely not a dream.
Then Cas moved forward of his own accord, pulling me out a bit, and pushed back hard to get me to fuck him, groaning out his pleasure.
“Oh, you want faster?”
He nodded, lost in his world of down to earth, honest to God, sexual passion.
“I can do faster,” I assured him, and started to ride him seriously now, setting up a steady, rhythm that was a smidgen slower than would send me over the edge, but hopefully would drive him wild. Me too, in the mean time.
Every stroke into him was like smoking hot bliss, and every pull away from him, like an urgent promise that had not choice but to deliver. I couldn't get enough. I put more force into each thrust and Cas just kept taking it, rumbling out the most gorgeous of grunts and moans that I have ever heard. He was moving with me and together we got a pace going that allowed me to put more and more muscle into the thrusts.
I was sure he wanted it, I could feel him asking for more, always more, and I gave it to him, again and again. I had honestly never fucked anyone this hard before in my life, and it was glorious.
Time became meaningless and the world was reduced to the beauty, the raw sex, the animal lust that was us. We were trying to become one, never getting there, but oh, how we tried. I wanted to try forever, I wanted to never let go. I wanted-
I pulled away again and hauled Cas upright, so that I could hug his back to me, clutching him close and making him mine. I growled into his neck as I drove into him again, hearing him gasp and groan so close. So close.
I didn't know it but I had lost control. I was fucking him now without thought, without reservations. Knowing he had asked for more, I reveled in the ability to give it to him. I knew I wouldn't stop this great joy between us and I continued full force, no holds barred.
I gasped involuntarily, “Cas.” It was a prayer.
I felt Cas's muscles contract harshly around me, his whole body stiffening against me, his muscles clenching down around me. Was he coming? I thrust one last time into his incredible presence and felt myself being beckoned by the orgasm that so desperately needed to happen. I felt it overtake me and allowed it to crash all over me.
I was coming in Cas and Cas was coming with me! This was not a dream, it was all us, for serious and deadly real. I let the waves ride us, lost in the pleasure of the gift he had given me tonight.
I couldn't think. I couldn't question reality, but I just couldn't fucking believe it. It was the way it was, though, whether I believed it or not. Here, with a realer than real Cas in my arms, vibrant and panting, why would I ever want to question this?
We finally fell into a huddled heap, with me slipping out of him too quickly and messily. Oh well, I wasn't aiming for perfection anyway, just pleasure for us, doing it right for Cas and making it good for him.
When I had regained my senses enough to notice anything around me, I saw and heard Cas gulping in air desperately, so I pulled us all the way down to the bed and shifted him on top of me. Here we could just lie and ride it out, Cas could find his way to calming his overstimulated body down.
Maybe Cas would want to talk again, chatterbox that he was. That'd be fine, because I could lie down while he talked. My muscles, my seed, all my emotions, pretty much everything about me was fully and thoroughly spent. I was done, I was toast, with a capital T. All I wanted now was to hold him close and pretend morning would never come.
Cas was wriggling and spluttering, breathing completely off kilter, but I could see him working it through and it looked like he'd survive. His breathing slowly became even and his squirming died down. Finally he melted into me, onto me, like a puppy who'd had a great big day running around, getting all comfortable on his human.
I smiled. Yes, I wanted to be Cas's human.
Meanwhile I could feel my own aftershocks coming through and I shivered with them, jerking Cas up and down a bit.
He lifted his head off my chest and looked at me. “Are you alright?”
I nodded. I had no words for how alright I was. “'s Normal. Don't worry. Aftershocks.”
Did I not predict he'd want to talk? Next thing, he'd probably want to analyze everything. It must be the little death of orgasmic hormones running through me, but I found even that otherwise annoying prospect cute and adorable about him. I giggled at that, bobbing Cas up and down some more.
I stroked his back, his arms, his face. “Love you, man.”
Cas stared at me.
I didn't realize what I had said, until I started to wonder why he was staring at me. “I mean,” I faltered. “Thanks.”
“You're welcome,” he answered politely and very seriously.
I had to ask now, “Cas?” And I wanted to put it in his words, so he would really understand. “Was it correct?”
His expressionless stare morphed into a truly happy smile. “Very much so.” Cas turned his gaze inward for a moment, before continuing. “That was unexpectedly pleasurable.”
My mind was screaming. Is there going to be more? Was this a one time deal? Will I hold him in my arms in my bed after the sun goes up, ever again? What bargain will I have to make with what demon or monster to have Cas to myself for the rest of my life?
I couldn't bear to ask those questions. I didn't want to hear the inevitable. He wasn't human or anywhere near in need of a relationship. Though, he had said he wanted one, but what did that mean to an Angel?
No, even thinking about it now was useless. Too much, too soon. But somehow, knowing that, didn't keep me from desperately longing for it.
“Dean, I want to thank you, as well.” Cas had laid his head back on my chest, so I couldn't see his face to try to figure out what he wasn't saying.
“For granting me some of what I desire.” He lifted up and captured me with blue pools of endlessness. “For sharing yourself with me.”
“Well fuck me stupid, Cas, it was all I ever wanted.” Annoyingly, now I could see him, but I still couldn't read him. I was supposed to be a master at reading body language, right? I could read a perp, a suspect or a victim within half a second. But Cas just had me stumped.
So I wanted to make sure he got the full low down from me on this sharing business. “I mean, that was serious pleasure, man. Best I ever had, that's for sure. Though you seemed to get the better end of the stick, from what you looked like, all hot and overcome with lust. Go you with tossing out all that Angel training.”
I could see Cas's Adam's apple move erratically. “Your advice was sound. This body can feel deeply. I am sorry to have lost control and let you do all the work.” He even looked a bit ashamed.
I'd have to knock that embarrassment crap right out of him. “What? You kidding me? That was the best part.”
He seemed to puzzle on that.
“It is early,” he finally decided to continue. “There is still time for you to sleep, possibly achieve your full four hours.”
“You're like dog with a bone, you know that?” I laughed, but it would feel really good to just drift off with Cas as my blanket and as deliciously sated as I felt. It would be so good to think he might be here when I woke up again. “Okay, that's not a bad idea. Sam will wonder why I'm not up yet, though.”
“I can talk to Sam,” Cas offered.
“No!” I startled myself as well as Cas. I hadn't thought any of this through yet. I needed a freaking moment. What the hell. I felt like shouting from the rooftops that I just thoroughly nailed one of the most awesome people on Earth or in Heaven. “Okay, yes,” I changed my mind.
Man, I did want to tell Sam, if I had a snowball's chance at Cas to become mine. Whatever shape that would take, I couldn't give a flying monkey right this minute. Just a chance, though. I'd probably happily hack through a sea of monsters, easily. For Cas? I'd not even flinch.
But if not- “No,” I changed my mind again, or more like, I wanted to qualify my answer a bit. “Don't tell him if this is a one time deal, Cas. But yes, tell him if you want to be with me again.”
Make love with me again. Say it, Winchester, say it! You fucked an Angel and you want to keep on doing it, forever. That's what this was all about, and not about what Sam knew or didn't know.
“I want to be with you many times more,” Cas stated, clearly and decidedly, like he was signing up for the boy scouts. “Dean, do you want to have more casual sex with me?”
“You call this casual?” I indicated the mess we had made of the bed. Not that it was much worse than the mess I usually made with my casual encounters. It was who I'd been with to make the mess that made this much more special to me than any casual encounter could ever be.
Cas frowned a bit, sucked in his lips briefly and said, “I thought you did, so I thought a second opportunity wasn't going to occur. I wasn't therefore even hoping for a reprisal.”
“Is that why you wanted me to fuck you?” I asked slowly and softly.
He licked his lips, as if remembering something sweet and yummy and slightly illegal. “I recalled our talk about dying a virgin a few years ago, and how that isn't what you wanted for me. I found myself agreeing with your point of view, when I was contemplating the offer you were making. I will now not die a virgin, in any sense of the word.” He smiled, but then guarded himself. “I wanted to make the most of my good luck, especially if it was a one time opportunity.”
I felt a little knife twist in my heart. I grabbed around Cas's waist and squished him tight. “You listen to me, you Angel, and listen good. I have wanted you from the beginning, I want you to be clear on that.” Now if that wasn't clear, nothing ever would be. Except, “Seriously, man, you should know that by now. You've seen me jerk off to you countless times-”
“Eighty-seven,” Cas butted in, “Unless you count tonight, which would make it eighty-eight, though, technically, what we did didn't involve masturbation-”
I kissed him to make him shut up. I plunged my tongue deeply into his mouth and swirled his around until I had him writhing on top of me.
I was certain I had him before I continued. “Like I said, after all that, and you still don't understand that that means that I want you, every night, all the time and in highly indecent ways. Just to be clear, I've always wanted you, I've just been too chicken shit to tell you. But if you need another opportunity, I will create opportunities galore. Just as long as we get to-” fuck, I wanted to say, but my brashness suddenly made way for a bit of doubt, so I finished with “make love.” I let go of my death grip on him.
And be together. But I didn't say that either. Cas most likely had no idea what that meant, even if had been talking about a relationship before. At any rate, all that wasn't something that we could figure out in one night. It was too big, and this already had been one fucking crazy ass night.
“I would like more opportunities to make love with you, Dean.” Cas was still solemn and bashful, but clear as a razor. “As many as you would be willing to give me.”
I felt a rush of relief and pure joy run through me. I pulled him close again, this time more gently. “You got it, babe.”
I lay back and let everything fall off me. I thought I could actually find sleep now.
Then I somehow found myself grinning like a silly idiot. I couldn't believe my luck! Cas wanted to be with me. Who would've thunk it? I wasn't even going to worry about every possible shitty problem that might turn up and would turn up, not just now. I could do that in the morning, or postpone it again, if Cas was still here by then. All I could do about that was hold on to some of the sexy encouragements from Cas and hope for the best.
“So what shall I tell Sam in the morning?” Cas whispered, gently purring into my ear.
I sighed happily, contentment running all the way through me. “Tell him he's a wuss and I'm taking my clippers to his hair when I get up. And tell him that your ass is mine.”
I felt Cas smile. I didn't see it, I felt it. And I was still grinning too. I mean, come on, could life get any better than this? I would challenge anyone who said so. This was just about the most perfect whatever it was ever.
But one essential thing was not right and it niggled at me. “Cas,” I wrapped myself around him and he got comfortable in my arms. “About a relationship.”
“Yes,” Cas said, sounding resolute.
Was that a 'yes' or was he just saying he was listening? Damn that Angel.
“You need to know, no matter what I say or promise, in the throes of passion or otherwise.” I gulped, contentment slipping out of my grasp now, because I had to let him into the messed up truth that was me, that was my life. I owed it to him. “You got to know that given a choice, Sammy comes first. I will always choose Sam over anything and anyone else. I'm don't think I can ever change that.” I buried my face in the crook of his neck and shoulder.
I'm sorry. But I couldn't say it, because I couldn't change it. So I didn't even try say anything to make that better. It was just crummy and shitty and set in stone.
Cas put a hand on my head and left it there. “It is as it should be.”
“Cas, I mean it. There will come a day I will sell you out, if I can save Sam.” I hated putting things in such blunt terms, but that was the ugly truth of it. I would happily damn myself back down to the Pit, if I let someone I loved believe otherwise. I owed him that.
“Dean. I love you for what you are, not for what you are not.”
“What I am is poison. You should run far away from me and never come back.”
“Even if you are poison,” Cas ran a hand down my side, slowly, soothingly, “I will always run toward you. I will stand by you in your mission with Sam. I will choose you over any other cause, every time. If that means we put Sam first, then that is how it will be.” his voice was so silky soft, I wanted to dream away on it. “It has never been any different.”
It seemed to all make sense the way he said it, but I knew it would end in blood and doom. I could already see Cas's wings splattered and scorched into the ground when I let him down. His death would be on me. I closed my eyes against the image but failed to stop seeing it.
So I told myself, we had now, we had tonight. We might even have more nights, who could tell? Even Angels couldn't predict the future. Hell, happiness had been so fleeting in my experience that I wasn't going to protest against such pleasure, such joy, such - fuck-it, say it already - such love.
I decided to embrace the chick-flickedness of the night we had had. NC-17, thank you very much. Eat, that Hallmark.
But in reality, this moment was as little a feel good movie as anything else in our crazy lives. I wanted him too much, so it wasn't love that I was giving him. It couldn't be, not knowing what I knew. I was a selfish bastard, taking what I wanted, with no regard for certain future harm to everyone around me.
If at some point I truly loved him, then I'd let him go and I'd disappear out of both his and Sammy's lives, so they would be safe from me forever. But I knew I couldn't, I knew I wouldn't. My flesh was too weak, my need too great.
I grabbed his hand off my head and pushed myself up. “Cas you're a dufus to want anything with me, but I'm too greedy to say no.” I rolled him back under me, so we were belly to belly, nose to nose, and I lowered myself onto him. “My guardian Angel, I'm yours.” I kissed him slowly. “If you'll have me.”
It was ultimately still up to him.
He smiled, eyes twinkling, and I felt his arms around my back grow and soften, almost like I was being brushed by feathers.
“I would be honored, Dean Winchester.”