Title: Kisses of Iron and Wine
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: for that episode where they time travel because Anna is a Glenn Close.
Warnings: Blood? Slight homophobia
Summary: written off prompt from tumblr: I want someone to write a fic about when Cas sends Dean and Sam back in time, and he's really hurt and Dean books him into the honey moon suite. So, I reckon in order to book Cas in, Dean had to pretend to be with him ;) and then he carries him to the room (because Cas can barely walk) and then Cas is like 'Oh Dean' and Dean puts him down on the bed and well…

"I set him up for a week. In the honeymoon suite."

Dean will never admit it, but seeing Castiel slumped against the side of a car, eyes half-closed and ruby blood dripping from his mouth made him more terrified than he's been in a long time.

By now, he's used to the near-death experiences that come in the form of vampires, wendigos, demons, all trying to take apart him and Sam. It's not that he doesn't get scared when Sam's hurt, because he does, a sharp tightening in his gut and a cold snap in his chest—it's just that he's used to it, to seeing his brother covered in blood but in the end he's alright.

He's not used to seeing Castiel like that, vulnerable and incredibly human. Cas is supposed to be invincible, all steel blue eyes and electricity crackling under his skin, emitting this sort of raw power felt whenever you were near him.

Not this, this nearly unconscious, dead weight, leaning against Dean as he drags him up, wrapping an arm around his waist, heart hammering when Castiel coughs, blood splattering the sidewalk.

Fuck, he's got to get less stressful friends. He sees the motel, brain on overdrive as he tries to think quickly on what room he can get for a long time without it looking suspicious when they hardly ever come out (as he'll have to leave Cas there, alone, although the thought makes him cringe). Only one settles in his mind and purses his lips.

Of fucking course. Fucking honeymoon suites. He glances down at Cas, who's still pitching heavily on one side, and knows they look nothing like a couple from here, just a couple of guys and one of 'em looks like he's been in a fight. He leans Castiel against brick wall of an alley, cupping his face and wiping the blood off his mouth. Castiel's eyes flicker open.

"Dean." His eyes are too black, pupils large and unsteady as if he has a concussion or something.

"Hey, Cas, you're still there." He threads his fingers through the angel's unruly black hair, bringing his hazy eyes to focus on him. "I'm gonna get you a room and you're gonna stay there and rest. For the entire time. Alright?" Castiel blinks at him blearily, nodding his head slightly. Dean lets go of his grip on him, and Castiel begins to fall, legs not strong enough to hold his weight.

Dean's arms catch him, holding him to his chest as he crumples with a soft Oof, eyes wide with surprise. Dean sighs, ignoring how his heart is doing fucking triple-time as it takes in the panic and how hot the angel's breath is on his face, so close he can count his long, black eyelashes fluttering and leaving light eskimo kisses.

"Let's get you in there," he says, hauling him up in his arms, cradling him like a newlywed. Castiel drops his head into Dean's neck and curls his fingers around his shoulders. His eyes slide half-closed.

Dean shivers, strands of Cas' hair tickling at his neck, and he walks to the door, opening it with his foot and plastering on a grin and slightly stumbling gait. The girl behind the counter looks up.

"Hey there!" His voice is slightly slurred, and he holds Castiel against him tightly.

"Honeymoon suite, sweetheart. I got things I wanna do," He winks, leering at her, watching as she turns flushes, turning red to the tip of her ears. Quickly, she grabs a key and hands it to him, avoiding looking at Castiel as if he's got some kind of disease. He frowns, but then suddenly it hits him.

They're in the fucking past, idiot. This kind of thing is hardly accepted back in his time—whoknows how it was taken where he is now.

"How long, sir?" Dean quickly snaps back to look at the girl, her cheeks still pink.

"Make it a week, babe," he rumbles, licking his lips slowly. She swallows.

"Just, try not to bother anyone. I won't tell anyone, but you've got to keep this on the down-low, dude."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he croons, and she blushes, shoeing him away with her hand.

Still carrying Cas, he walks up the stairs and down the hallway, a little concerned of how light the angel is, feeling him shift a little in his arms, a hand coming up to slide into the nape of Dean's hair. Dean stops abruptly and shudders, head dropping down to lean against Castiel's black wisps.

"Oh, Dean," he breathes, eyes still hooded, other hand still dangling to the ground.

Dean swallows, opening the door the room slowly, and closing it just as soft.

"Yeah, Cas," he breathes, not daring take his gaze off of the angel.

The angel hums, curling closer to Dean, the arm that was trailing to the ground coming up to wrap around Dean's neck, bringing them so close their noses nearly touch.

"Thank you," he says quietly, blue eyes large and solemn. Those slender fingers play with his hair and Dean's eyes fall shut.

"Cas," his voice is rough, hoarse, and suddenly he feels a soft pressure on his lips and his eyes fly open, taking in the large pupils and thick eyelashes. The kiss is soft, tentative, everything how Dean thought it would be, but when he opens his mouth against Cas', his tongue slides in and it turns startlingly dirty, aggressive and completely dominating, teeth clacking and nipping.

Dean groans as heat flares deep in his gut and he lays the angel down on the bed, pulling off the ever-present trenchoat. Castiel sighs, hands coming up to cup Dean's face, fingers trembling from exhaustion, and he kisses Dean again, arching into his warm, broad chest.

Dean licks into Cas' mouth, tongue laving the roof and hands coming up to tangle through his hair, finally getting the chance to run his fingers through it and mess it up, knowing that when he next sees Castiel, his hair will be like that 'cause of him and not the wind.

He pulls his mouth away, leaning down to nip at scruffy jawline, drawing low, soft sounds from the angel. Kissing down his neck, Dean bites gently on his Adam's apple, relishing in the purr that vibrates through Castiel's body.

"Dean," he sighs and Dean's just about to kiss him again when he freezes, pushing Dean away with his superhuman strength before leaning over the side of the bed and retching dark, rusty liquid. Dean's heart jumps in his throat and he runs a soothing hand down Castiel's back until the coughing fit subsides.

"Hey, Cas, c'mere," he murmurs, taking his hand and pushing him onto the bed, running gentle fingers through his hair and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"Just sleep, alright?" Castiel sighs, eyes already falling shut from Dean's ministrations to his scalp. He whispers a small, grateful Thank you and then he's out, snoring lightly on the bed.

Dean gets up, cleans the blood, and gives one final stroke to the angel's hair before he leaves, looking back at Castiel's small figure and then turning around to head to Sam.

They've got work to do.