Prompt fill for an anonymous requester (thanks anon!). I'm sorry, I'll probably look at the request again at a later date and do something with the first part, but Cas was in no mood for cars and I was inclined to agree with him. Set some time post 5.22 but generally vague about the timeline.
Disclaimer: Not mine in any way, shape or form. I'm giving them back a little bit later. Shame really.
This Little Bar.
Dean is bored, has been for nearly two hours now, life on the road with no brother and only the occasional presence of his angel lends little to methods of entertainment between cases and miles. He has been in this bar for some time, unable to face another evening on his own wondering if Castiel will drop by, and has been flirting with the barmaid for the majority of that time. There is little seriousness in his attempt, Dean knows it and she knows it too, it is simply a method of passing the time. It is a way of seeing if he still has it after all the weirdness in his life the last few years.
Turns out he does.
It also turns out that Castiel has been keeping an eye on him from the halls of Heaven. Apparently it happens that the angel does not like what he is seeing because he strides into the bar with that look on his face, his shoulders stiff and his lips a thin line. Cas's eyes are narrowed, smoldering, and Dean feels his mouth go dry as the barmaid looks from him to the angel and back again before sidling off down the bar with a smirk and a sigh. It makes Dean suddenly very glad that he left the car at the motel and walked because Castiel looks angry.
The angel strides towards him with no heed for the people in his path, people who are rapidly moving away from this unstoppable force, utterly fixated on the hunter who knows that he is really deep in it right now. He sets his beer on the counter as he gets to his feet, not willing to face this argument without full use of his hands, and meets Castiel's glare with a cocky grin and a jerk of his head. Cas does not even speak when he gets into Dean's personal space, tilting his head up so that he can meet the hunter's eyes, and he is so close that all the man would have to do is lean down slightly to kiss him.
Instead he feels that wrench in the pit of his stomach as the angel's fingers press harshly against his forehead and he is back in his motel room with an angry soldier of God pressed against him. He can feel the wall behind him, cool even through the thick layers of jacket, shirt and t-shirt, and the heat of Castiel in front of him. Hands are fisted into his jacket as the angel closes that small distance between them and kisses Dean with a fire that the hunter has rarely experienced without a little coaxing.
He lifts his hands to thread them into Castiel's hair as he returns the kiss that is all nipping teeth and bruising tongue, and is surprised when Cas stops him by grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the wall. He grunts in surprise at the force behind the action, but cannot stop the way that his hips jerk forward as he seeks pressure against the hardness that is already forming under the angel's almost crushing force.
"I saw you," Castiel growls when he breaks the kiss, dragging his teeth lightly across the pulse that flutters at Dean's throat and there is a break in his voice as the hunter moans, "flirting with her." He sinks his teeth harder into soft flesh, marking the skin and then soothing it with soft strokes of his tongue. "What did you plan to do to her?" He demands as he drags Dean away from the wall long enough to pull jacket and shirt from the hunter's body.
"Cas," Dean is not sure he can form a coherent sentence right now, with the angel's hands dancing over his body and his hips rocking so that they barely ghost against his own. "Not like that..." he seeks Castiel's mouth again and the angel kisses him for only a moment before pulling away and dragging Dean to the bed. With his considerably greater strength it is a simple matter to do so, all but tearing clothes from Dean's all too willing body and the hunter is still wondering if they are fighting, making up, or taking care of both options at once.
"Were you going to bring her back here, Dean?" Cas asks as he pushes the now naked human face down on the bed. "Were you going to kiss her?" He presses lips and teeth against Dean's shoulder, stilling impatient movements with one hand as the other searches through the drawer of the cabinet at the side of the bed. Through the haze of need Dean hears the rustle of clothing and the chink of a belt being unbuckled and he realises that his angel is still fully clothed.
Fingers trail down his side, cool but trembling slightly, and he would find the action soothing but for the way that the angel's newly released erection is pressing at him. Dean groans and presses into the bed, trying to find some friction against his own aching hardness as Cas moves against him for a moment. There is a snap behind him, a moment of silence before Castiel speaks again, shifting up slightly so that his lips can move against Dean's ear.
"Were you going to fuck her?" He demands as he presses one cold, slick, digit to the hunter's entrance, twisting his way inside with a little more force than necessary.
"No," the word is muffled by the sheets and Dean whines as Castiel adds another finger, pushes back onto them a little more with every passing second.
"Good," a twist and a third finger and the man feels stretched and full like he never has before, Castiel rough where he is normally gentle. He is so aroused by this that it almost hurts, that he has been close to letting go on more that one occasion and he lets the angel's name slip past his lips as he is pulled onto his hands and knees. "Because you're mine, Dean," Castiel growls, leans forward again as he remove his fingers and the hunter knows that this has not been enough preparation.
It sends a thrill through him, the burn of being breached by Castiel as the angel drives forward. It is stark and shattering and the dig of his hands into the hunter's hips is all that keeps him grounded.
"I pulled you out of Hell," Cas grates out, beginning to move slowly after he has given the hunter a moment to adjust. "I remade you, I breathed life back into you," he starts to quicken the pace, putting a little angelic strength behind the movement as he adjusts his angle. "I cradled your soul and returned you to your brother."
Dean cries out as Castiel finally strikes that place inside and reaches for his own erection only to have his hands once more batted away.
"I gave up my family for you," the hunter tries to focus on the words, on their meaning, but is lost in the rapid pace that his angel is setting and the wrecked nature of his voice. "I died for you. I gave everything I had and you are mine."
Castiel punctuates each word with a thrust and finally the pressure that has been building inside the hunter shatters and breaks. His cries are hoarse, an endless litany of yours and Cas repeated as the angel's rhythm falters and there is a flare of something bright inside him as Castiel falls apart. Both of them slump forward, the angel's trench coat flapping heavily around him as he half rolls away from Dean, only to change his mind and press his lips against the hunter's. This kiss is soft, gentle, and it smooths the rough edges off the last hour, the aches where there will be bruises, and the soreness that will most likely make sitting uncomfortable for a couple of days.
"Works both ways," Dean says after a moment, sees Castiel tilt his head a little even against the bed as his blue eyes flicker open in confusion. "Makes you mine," the hunter clarifies and there is a ghost of a smile to Castiel's lips.
"Was there ever any doubt of that?" He rests a hand against the scar of his creating and they both lie in silence for a long while.
One day Dean will work out if they were fighting, though.
Uh, yeah, no idea about the schmoop at the end but there you go.