A/N: Hello. I'm really sorry. I know. I'm not even going to tell you why I haven't posted this chapter for a week, because it's a ridiculous reason. Anyway, if any of you are still interested, here is the final chapter, sex and all. Hope you enjoy my lovelies! I've loved reading your reviews, you're wonderful. If you stick around, I'm writing a crack!fic next :D It's Destiel again. xxx

They arrived back at Bobby's before Dean could properly get a glimpse of where Balthazar rescued them from, meaning one of the Angels had given him a sneaky tap on the forehead to prevent him from getting a good look around. Or so Dean guessed.

The three of them landed in the centre of the living room, earning themselves two bewildered stares from Bobby and Sam, who were knee deep in the kind of dusty, leather-bound lore books that made Dean's head hurt just looking at them. Castiel shifted uneasily under the scrutiny of the two men staring.

"Dean! Cas!" Sam suddenly cried, breaking the silence and hurtling towards them, "What the hell? Are you okay?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak but instead found himself crushed into a Sam-hug, along with Cas, meaning they were squeezed together to the point of asphyxiation. Right, uh, I guess I don't need to say that we don't want to kill Castiel anymore… Balthazar chuckled at the spectacle and took another casual sip of his drink.

"Sam Winchester, what the hell are you playing at, get over here. Have I taught you nothing?" Bobby suddenly yelled angrily, yanking a confused Sam backwards by the shoulder.

Before Dean could process the situation, he found himself soaked in holy water, Cas too. Dean spat the excess liquid out of his mouth and glared at Bobby.

"We're us, Bobby!" Dean growled, though in the back of his mind he noted that he had been dry before that point, meaning that the rainwater that had soaked him through in Limbo had evaporated instantly upon returning to Earth. At the memory of that particular storm, Dean couldn't help the steady heat that began to creep up his neck and flush his cheeks.

"Yes, didn't take me too long, I had an inkling where they might have eloped to…" Balthazar said, in what he probably thought was a helpful tone. "Wouldn't encourage frequenting it as a holiday resort though, I must say, it has been known to be a tad unpredictable…"

"You're telling me." Dean agreed, thinking of the giant spurts of lava, and the shuddering ice beneath his feet. When Dean looked up at Sam, he noticed his brother staring at him strangely, his head tilted in an oddly Castiel-like fashion. He glanced over at Cas, noting that the Angel's eyes were fixed on Sam as well. He seemed a little wary.

Why isn't Sammy peppering me with a hundred and one questions about Limbo? Isn't this exactly the kind of thing that usually gives him a huge nerd boner?

He frowned at his little brother again, vaguely noting a mildly heated discussion about the war in Heaven going on between Bobby and Balthazar. It was then that he noticed Sam's eyes flicker downwards for a split second. It was almost imperceptible, but Dean was the closest person to him in the world, and knew all his giveaways. Sam pretended to listen to Balthazar's weary explanation of Raphael's status in Heaven, and Dean followed the beeline Sam's eyes had made moments before with his own.

Dean looked down and saw his own right hand, his roughened, long fingers still entwined with Castiel's. He sucked in a breath and flicked his gaze up sharply to meet the Angel's. In the commotion of getting back here and seeing Sam, he'd forgotten he was holding Cas's hand. Did Sam care? It was such an insignificant little thing; could it really matter? He drew his hand away from Cas's and tried not to focus on the cool air that rushed between their palms.

But what was the point in pretending everything was the same now? It clearly wasn't, Sam could obviously see that. Sticking around here and catching Sam and Bobby up on him and Cas's weird little vacation to Limbo wasn't going to help stop a war that could be killing thousands of souls as they spoke. Dean decided he didn't care, Sammy was a big boy, he was just going to have to deal with the fact that he didn't understand yet. He'd come around.

Quietly, Dean caught Castiel's gaze and motioned with his head for him to follow. He tried to ignore Balthazar's wink as the two of them slipped out of the room.

Dean decided to take Cas up to his old bedroom. Not for any kinky reasons, he assured himself, although he couldn't deny that Castiel's trenchcoat-less torso, along with that un-tucked shirt, reminding him every five seconds of how it felt to slide his fingers underneath, was not giving him the purest of thoughts.

When they arrived, Dean sat down upon his bed, across the room from Sam's. He didn't like to come up here much; he preferred to sleep down on the couch if he stayed here. There were too many memories of this room, of when John would leave them here for weeks at a time, never saying when he would return, or if. Dean would have to be the strong one, like always: hug Sam when he was upset, sneak him candy bars and comic books under Bobby's nose, tell him stories about Mom even though it killed him to even conjure up the images.
Don't get him wrong, Dean liked to remember his childhood with Sammy before everything turned to complete crap. It was memories like the ones in this room that kept him going sometimes. It was lying in the dark, night after night, long after Sammy had fallen asleep next to him, praying to a God he was getting surer and surer didn't exist. That was what Dean wanted to forget.

Castiel stood in the doorway, unsure, looking as if he were about to intrude upon Dean's personal space. Never stopped him before, Dean thought with a wry smile, and patted the bed next to him. Castiel headed over uncertainly, and Dean couldn't help but admire his willowy frame, so much slighter without the coat, somehow more elegant.

"So I guess Balth is here to take you home like a good brother." Dean said once Cas was sitting down beside him. Castiel picked idly at a thread in the bedcover. Dean sighed and shifted more towards him, studying the profile of his face. Suddenly, he thought of something. "Hey, Cas?"

Castiel looked up reluctantly. "Yes, Dean?"

"How come I can never see your wings… you know, usually." Castiel immediately blushed, averting his eyes, and Dean couldn't help but smile, a little confused, but hell, that was adorable.

"Y-your senses on Earth are too dull to see my wings in their true form." He was picking at the thread again. "But even if you could, I would not voluntarily show them to you unless I…" Here he seemed to falter, and Dean found himself half grinning, which could only mean that Castiel must be embarrassed. "…displayed myself to you in some way. For example, o-on the night we met – met officially – I had to display my wings in order to prove to you I was an Angel."

"So… when we were in la-la land…?" Dean prompted, trying not to let his smile show through his voice. Castiel sighed, then glared at Dean, seeming to know what he was doing, before pulling hard at the thread he was tugging, unravelling a section of the cloth.

"I'm not sure, I don't know how it works, but I can make an educated guess that Limbo chose to manifest my wings as a result of the… desire I began to feel towards you."

Dean grinned, he couldn't help himself. "Wait, hold up, so are you telling me that Angel wings are basically like a massive mating call to other Angels?"

"Amongst other things, yes. Obviously they have other purposes, Dean. Flying, for example would be most human's idea of a primary function for wings-"

Dean laughed and shoved Cas a bit, causing the Angel to make a cross sound in his throat, though of course he was immovable.

So his wings came out of their hiding place in Limbo cause he wanted to jump me? Huh.

Suddenly it was the hottest thing Dean had ever heard. He narrowed his eyes a little and leaned over to Castiel, sliding an arm round his waist.

"Can you show me them now, Cas?" Dean asked in a whisper, all breath against Cas's ear. Cas bit down on his thick lower lip and squirmed a little before answering.

"We're… on a mortal plane… they won't be… they won't be like they were…" Cas's voice shuddered and jumped, which could have been due to the fact Dean was sliding his tongue along the whorls of Cas's ear, and carefully running his hand up the side of his ribcage.

"Exciting." Dean whispered, and leant back a little because damn he wanted to see this.

Castiel breathed out heavily, as if being released from the entrapment of Dean's arms, and looked up to meet the hunter's eyes. Emerald battling against sapphire. Dean smiled a little, and then they were there, huge and powerful, stretched around them, filling the corner of the room where they sat on Dean's bed.

These wings were the colour of the night sky – their feathery bases so black that it sent shivers down Dean's spine. The tips evened out into a rich, royal blue, giving each wing a shining gradient; the only things missing were the twinkling stars. Dean blinked, and tried to conjure up the image of the wings he had seen before, back in Limbo, and found he could only picture Cas surrounded by a glimmer of something ethereal, something he couldn't describe. Irritated, he pushed further, trying to remember how they had felt between his fingers. He found again that he couldn't, he just knew that he had seen them once, and that they were magnificent, and beyond explanation.

"Woah." Dean said, eloquently. Castiel smiled. "They're so… so…" Dean scrambled helplessly for the right word, but dammit it was Sammy who was the friggin' Thesaurus, not him. "dark." He finished lamely.

Castiel looked concerned, and Dean wanted to laugh again. "I thought you liked the colours of the Kansas night sky at 2am best. What colours would you like them to be, Dean?"

Dean felt tears in his eyes. This was absolutely insane. These were goddamn Angel wings! And Cas was asking him what colour he'd prefer them to be? As if Castiel were his car, or accessory, and he got to customise him however he wanted. Dean slid his hand round the back of Castiel's neck and pulled him forwards a little way, enough to kiss him firmly, deeply, enough to feel the soft warmth of this glorious creature's lips against his own. He leaned back very slightly, still able to feel Castiel's shallow breaths against his mouth.

"They're beautiful, Cas. You're beautiful."

He felt Cas smile as he kissed him again, and he pushed him gently backwards to lie fully on the bed, his wings splayed out around them. Leaning over and kissing an Angel of the Lord was certainly going to be a new memory to add to the list that this room had already built up for him, and as Castiel reached up to loop his hands around Dean's waist and pull him further down on top of him, Dean decided it was going to be his favourite.

He straddled Cas's waist and leaned up, vaguely noticing that they had switched positions since being in Limbo. He looked down at the Angel laying beneath him, his midnight wings draped across the bed, their inky feathers spilling over the edges onto the floor. Castiel's eyes were lidded and heavy, and Dean thought with a flicker of something that resembled fear that this time he wouldn't be able to stop once they started.

He trailed his hands up Castiel's chest and nimbly slid his top button through its hole. Castiel's breath hitched, even at this small action, and Dean smiled again.

"Cas, where's your tie?" Dean wondered aloud more than anything; his voice was quiet and he wasn't really expecting an answer. Instead he continued the process of unbuttoning Castiel's shirt, letting his fingers linger against the soft skin exposed underneath.

"Limbo…" Castiel breathed, and Dean glanced up at his closed eyes, trying to recall when exactly the tie had left Castiel's neck. He recalled seeing a glimpse of the powder blue strip of cloth against Castiel's shirt, but never after his trenchcoat was gone. Now that he thought about it… doesn't Cas usually wear a jacket underneath that coat? Limbo sure didn't like your dress sense, Cas. Dean smiled at the thought.

Once his shirt was open, revealing an expanse of creamy flesh, Dean ran his hands across the smooth planes of Cas's chest, feeling the ripple of muscles underneath his hands. In a swift motion he drew back and grabbed the hem of his own shirt, yanking it up over his head, wanting to level the playing field, keep himself as exposed as Cas was.

Dean dipped his head to Castiel's chest and pressed his lips against the hollow between his pectoral muscles. Cas slid a hand over Dean's left shoulder, lingering far too near his scar, and it couldn't possibly be unintentional. Dean growled a little and licked a long, thick stripe up to Castiel's collarbone, sliding his arm underneath the Angel's waist when he arched up in response. He sucked at several places on Castiel's neck, gripping him tightly and sliding a hand into his mess of hair, until Castiel was whimpering, clutching at him, and Dean could feel Cas's hands gripping him, pleading.

He was about to give in, really he was; he leaned back to drink in Castiel's expression, darkened with want, and was about to speak, when Castiel slid his hand all the way down to his scar, fitting it perfectly over the mark until Dean's skin prickled with the electric touch. He double checked, ensuring Cas knew the effect he was having. Castiel smirked.

Dean's response was instantaneous, and he pushed Castiel down into the bed, kissing him ferociously, catching his lips between his own. One hand was still tight around his waist and he used it to leverage himself, angling their hips together until he felt the firm push of Castiel's erection against his thigh, and ground his hips down to meet it, earning a strangled cry from the Angel beneath him that was lost in their joined mouths. Dean bit and licked until Cas parted his lips, and then he was inside, his tongue exploring, wrestling with Cas's as he felt hands slide down his bare back, over his ass and squeezing until he groaned a little.

All of a sudden, there were too many clothes, far too many clothes and Dean despised them. He wriggled his hand down between their bodies, gasping along with Cas when he brushed against their erections. Cas was still writhing underneath him, and the friction was glorious but distracting as hell – Cas was like a porn star, reacting to every touch like it was his first, his wings fluttering deliciously as though he could barely control them, and every so often Dean could hear them thump gently across the floor. He reached Cas's belt buckle and wrestled with it helplessly, only one hand available to him as Cas was lying on the other one. The wriggling from above wasn't helping, and at length he growled angrily and slid down to attack it with his teeth.

At last it sprang open, and Dean suppressed a cry of triumph, instead opting to slide back up Cas's body, capture his moist, reddened lips again and plunge his hand into the Angel's open trousers, earning him a magnificent cry of surprise and pleasure. Dean had no time for underwear, and in a rough voice he leant down to Cas's ear and told him to "take them off."

Castiel complied as best he could, scrambling to kick his trousers and underwear down his legs and away, away as Dean began to stroke him, gripping his flushed, swollen member at the base and sliding his hand up and down, agonisingly slowly, letting his thumb run over the head, smearing the pre-cum over his hand. Cas could feel the slick as Dean worked, and felt him slowly start to speed up, his fingers like talons, seeming to know exactly when to squeeze and how it would make Cas writhe like a serpent beneath him.

Dean chuckled at the sight of Cas, utterly crazed with lust, his hands gripping Dean wherever they could, but never settling. He drew his arm out from under Cas, never stopping the rhythm of his stroke. He couldn't bear it any longer; he had thought he might be able to resist, to show Cas that he didn't need everything the Angel gave him, but there was something about them, these enormous symbols of power, that had Dean utterly at the Angel's mercy. He slid his hand up, over the ridges of Castiel's ribs, brushing against his nipple, over his tensed shoulder and then-

"Ah!" Castiel cried out, his pupils blowing wide. Sweat beaded on the Angel's forehead, and his mouth, which had been open in a blissful expression for some time, widened, and choked out a cry. But now Dean halted, one hand deep in the roots of Castiel's ebony feathers, the other wrapped around his cock, and looked down into his Angel's cerulean eyes. He just wanted to check, to see that Cas needed this, needed every bit of this as much as he did.


Dean didn't need any more encouragement than that. He picked up the pace again, faster this time, feeling Castiel convulse underneath him, his trembling hands gripping his back for all he was worth. Dean didn't slow, his hand pumping furiously up and down Castiel's cock, and he leaned down to kiss the Angel's neck, one hand still clutching a handful of feathers, far more palpable now than they had been in Limbo.

All at once Dean felt Castiel call out his name, louder than before, and more desperate. The Angel reached his hands into Dean's hair and pulled hard, enough to cause pain, but Dean didn't care. Cas was coming, he could feel it, spurting in hot, thick jets all over his hand. He raked his hand through Cas's feathers, feeling him tense and tremble as he did so, until finally, finally he fell slack, limp, against the mattress.

"Deean…" Cas moaned brokenly, sounding like he had been drained of energy entirely.

Dean rolled to off of Cas, lying carefully next to him and smiling. He wrapped an arm around the Angel's waist and pulled him close, needing to smell the sweat on his skin. "Worth the wait, Cas?" Dean couldn't help teasing, letting his voice drop to a quiet murmur against Castiel's ear.

Cas was quiet for a moment, his eyes closed and breathing heavy, and Dean was unprepared when the Angel surged upwards, his wings giving him the perfect leverage to allow him to roll on top of him and pin him to the bed by the shoulders. Dean watched the giant, black forms flap once above him, sending ripples through Castiel's back muscles, before they settled, cocooning them in a soft, silky embrace. Noticing the direction of Dean's gaze, Castiel made an annoyed little sound, and rolled his hips once, grinding down into Dean's straining erection, reminding him of just how badly he needed this. When Dean yelped and clutched Cas's hips, the Angel smiled above him. Castiel slipped his hands smoothly down Dean's arms, stroking up and down over his scar, and making him bite his lips to keep from screaming in frustration. Dean noted the glint in his ice blue eyes and gulped.

"I think I'd prefer if we didn't wait as long, in future." Castiel said in a low voice that went straight to Dean's cock. He nodded eagerly in agreement, finding words a bit difficult as Castiel began to press wet, lingering kisses against his collarbone. He trailed lower down, pausing to brush his lips over Dean's nipple, which made the hunter immediately gasp and bury his hands back in Cas's feathers. Castiel moaned at the touch of Dean's fingers and bit down upon the sensitive flesh, just hard enough to make him wince a little, before licking his way down lower, across Dean's abdomen, placing an inhumanly strong hand against Dean's chest to hold him down, and flicking the belt and jeans button open impatiently, no need for the scrabble of human fingers.

As Castiel sank lower down, Dean could no longer keep his hold on the wings, and he felt his fingers slide out of the slippery feathers. He wanted to protest, to demand that Cas come back up here immediately so he could plunge his hands right back in, but then, with a sharp tug, Cas stripped Dean of all further garments of clothing, and he shut his mouth quickly, thinking he might know where this was going.

Dean had nothing to hold, nothing to squeeze, and he could only fist his hands into the sheets at the first touch of Castiel's lips to his cock. Castiel was merciless, pressing hard down on the hand on Dean's chest, ensuring he didn't try to move as his tongue ran curiously along his length, eliciting a drawn out moan from the other end of the bed. Dean was already trembling, and Cas could taste how he was leaking, despite being barely touched, so he flicked his tongue carefully over the head, tasting the salt and letting it fill his senses, before enveloping him.

Dean grabbed hold of the hand Cas was using to pin him, gripping it roughly, his nails digging in. He tried not to move, to just let the wet heat of Castiel's sliding mouth do its work, but he couldn't help himself. He was overwhelmed, he could feel Cas everywhere, his naked body draped over his legs, his swirling, trembling feathers sweeping over random patches of skin, and he writhed, arching up into Cas. A few long, slow sucks and Dean let out a strangled noise, reaching his fist up to his mouth and clamping his teeth around it to muffle the sound. He felt a shock of pleasure burst through him, under skin and he came, shouting Cas's name, Cas swallowing every bit like he had never tasted anything better.

Dean's eyes were closed, and he eventually felt the last dregs of his orgasm fade away, so he blinked, feeling Cas slide off him and creep back up to lie beside him, close enough that Dean could feel their skin stick with sweat. Vaguely, Dean noticed the sudden absence of wings. He was still clutching Cas's hand to his chest, and he limply tugged it up to meet his lips, Cas seeming to go along with what Dean wanted now. He pressed a chaste kiss to the palm and turned to smile at Cas.

They watched each other in silence for a few moments, each feeling the necessity of this moment, to just lie together, being in this moment for a little while. Eventually Cas spoke.

"Dean, you know, I will need to return to Heaven, now."

Dean looked down at his chest where their fingers still intertwined. He nodded once.

"I only want what is best for you and the people of Heaven. I do…trust you, Dean. I certainly have faith in you. I see that I was wrong not to follow that faith now. If you say you can do this, help me defeat Raphael, then I believe you. Thank you for offering to help me at all. I will tell Crowley that our deal is no longer of value." Dean looked up at that, finding himself lost in the blue of Cas's eyes when he was this close. This was more than he could have hoped for.

"Cas…" The Angel smiled, his eyes crinkling.

"There. I did it, I made you happy." Castiel said fondly. Suddenly, his expression turned grave. "It will take much longer now. The road ahead will be bloody, I have no doubt of that." Dean watched the light flood back into Castiel's eyes and marvelled, once again, at how expressive he could be if you paid attention. "But perhaps… if I get you at the end of it… it will be worth it."

He looked a little embarrassed at that, and Dean thought he saw the beginnings of a blush begin to creep into his cheeks. He was ridiculously glad that Cas seemed to be able to say that kind of thing - even if he did turn fifty shades of beetroot every time - because he himself was the most emotionally stunted, unhealthily repressed, no-chick-flick kind of guy he knew, and so instead he pulled his hand out of Cas's, wrapped it around the back of his neck and tugged him forwards for a kiss.

Right now, everything was fucked. There was a war as fiery as the pits of Hell raging upstairs and he'd just gone on a who-the-hell-knows-how-long holiday to nowhere-land right when he needed to lead the troops into battle. Sure, his Angel had come back to him, like deep down he hoped he would, and sure it was more than he ever dared hope for to be able to cradle that same Angel in his arms, but he wasn't delusional. Everything was not rosy, and there was a lot of shit headed their way before they could allow themselves any kind of honeymoon period.

Castiel rested his head against Dean's shoulder and closed his eyes. Dean kissed the mop of black hair brushing gently at his cheek and held him close. He could hear Sammy downstairs, his voice loud and piercing; he sounded pissed off. Probably arguing with Balthazar. Probably demanding to know what the hell was going on. Dean knew he needed to go downstairs, to get Sammy up to speed, he needed to roll Cas off, kiss him one last time, send him packing back to Heaven to start the long process of sorting out his troublesome family…

He looked down at Cas's face, a hint of a smile stretching his pink lips. His eyes were closed to the world, perfectly content to just lie here, though Dean knew he didn't sleep. Dean smiled widely. Just five more minutes.