A/N: Epilogue PART FOUR. This is the final part, guys! Thank you so much for reading/reviewing, being awesome. I love you all!
"Yep, he's in. All systems go. Over and out." Gabriel says, grinning with excitement. He has his eyes squeezed shut, concentrating on Castiel's movements inside the building. When he opens them, Sam is staring at him, eyebrows raised.
"You know, you don't have to talk like that, I'm standing right next to you."
Gabriel sighs rolling his eyes like he's ruining the fun. "Just shut up and get Dean will you?"
"Okay." Sam nods, turning on his heel, but he pauses, spinning back to face Gabriel, a little nervous. "Gabe, what is this place? What's in there?"
Gabriel grins, and okay, Sam does not like the mischievous glint in his eye. He needs to pick his co-conspirators more carefully. Not everyone can be as good as his two best gal-pals.
"You… probably don't wanna know just yet, Sammy."
Sam is about to argue, to demand that they move the location of this plan somewhere else right friggin now, but he knows they're running out of time. He sent Dean to park the car about fifteen minutes ago, and his brother's going to be pissed if he has to wait on Sam any longer. He decides to just go with it.
"…Whatever. And Cas definitely can't mojo his way out of there?"
"Not a chance. I painted the walls of this place three-inches thick with sigils."
"Ew. Okay, I'll be back in a minute then. Time for the final stage of the Great Destiel Plan: Epilogue."
Gabriel scoffs a laugh, grabbing hold of Sam's jacket to hold him in place for a second. "You're such a nerd."
"You love it."
Gabriel just grins and tugs him down for a quick kiss before Sam pulls back, wipes the back of his mouth in a dramatically disgusted manner, winks, and turns to retrieve his brother.
"This bar better have strippers. Hot ones. With big, friggin sky-blue eyes." Dean grumbles as he marches along beside Sam, matching his fast pace without difficulty.
"Don't worry Dean, this is the best bar in town. All the travel guides said so."
"Nerd." Dean replies.
It's getting dark now, and Sam hurries, thinking of Castiel in that building, like a bull in a cage, battering his Angelic powers against the walls, trying to get out. How long till he wears down Gabriel's defences?
They near the side street and Sam nearly shudders in relief. Dean slows a little as they walk down it, clearly suspicious already, and that's not a good sign. "Just what in the hell kind of bar is down a damn alley-"
He stops mid-sentence, his teeth clamping shut when he spots Gabriel, leaning casually against the door of the 'bar', grinning at Dean.
Sam manages to grab Dean's shoulders before he legs it, anchoring him in place.
"Sam!" Dean yells, struggling against his brother's death-grip. "Don't you think I might know what you're doing?! I've read all about your damn plans!"
Sam gulps, but resists shooting a look of unease at Gabriel. "Dean, calm down! Gabe's just here for…"
He trails off, Dean distracting him by trying to prise Sam's fingers off one by one.
"Emotional support, chicken-brain." Gabriel is suddenly beside them both, one elbow resting casually on Dean's shoulder, atop Sam's hand as he struggles. Eventually, Dean quietens, eyeing them both suspiciously.
"Emotional support?" Dean asks, scepticism lacing his voice.
"Yeah! You and my bro are going through a rough patch. Are you seriously saying you don't need some consoling?" Gabriel asks, tapping Sam lightly on the small of his back, indicating he should release his hold on Dean.
Sam does so, reluctantly, and Dean rubs his shoulders, glaring at his brother. "I guess. Seeing as some people clearly have no idea how to console."
Sam just scoffs and turns away, thinking that if only he knew. And then he remembers that, oh right, he does know. Everything.
"Look, can we just go get shitfaced already? I'm sick of feeling terrible. Oh, and if I mention wanting to drunk dial my kind-of Angel boyfriend tonight, let me remind you that I will not need a phone for that, and therefore you should probably just tape my mouth shut."
Gabriel grins and slings an arm around Dean's shoulders. "I can totally do that, kiddo."
As the Angel steers Dean over towards the door of the building, Gabriel sends Sam a wink over his shoulder, and Sam grins.
"Oh, almost forgot, I need a quick word with Sam. Go get us a table big boy, we'll catch up in a sec."
The slap on his rear distracts Dean from any suspicion he might have felt at Gabriel's words, and he frowns at the invasion of personal space, but complies, hoisting the door open and stepping inside. It's a bit of a shock when it swings shut so violently behind him.
"I can't believe you just slapped my brother on the ass." Sam grumbles, shaking his head from where he's bent over, fiddling with the padlock in his hand. It's securing the door in place, but the damn key is sticking, refusing to turn and seal his brother and Castiel in their reconciliation-room for the evening.
He should have just used Bobby's panic room again. Though he doubted it would have been very easy to get them both in there, after last time.
"Aw, are you jealous baby?" Gabriel asks, the hand currently resting on Sam's back slipping casually down to crest the hem of Sam's jeans. Sam jerks away, scowling at Gabriel before returning his attention to the padlock in his hand. "Woah! You are!"
"Can we just focus, please?" Sam asks, irritated, getting more and more ferocious with the mechanism as it refuses to budge.
Gabriel sighs and Sam feels him lift his hand away. Before Sam can blink, Gabriel is batting his hands away from the padlock, and covering it with his own. When Sam looks down again, the door is secure.
"Sammy, I was only trying to distract him. You know I only have eyes for your gorgeous behind." Gabriel explains, his eyes darting to Sam's ass, emphasising his point.
Sam just rolls his eyes, deciding he'd let it go… for now. "Whatever. Are you gonna tell me what this place is now?"
"By day?" Gabriel asks, grinning. "It's a sex torture dungeon. Nobody here tonight though."
Sam splutters a laugh. He can't help it – the absurdity of the idea of Cas and Dean being locked together in a sex torture dungeon is too much to bear. He kind of wishes that were actually the case, really.
"Come on, Gabe." Sam says, still chuckling a little. "What is it really?"
Gabriel just raises his eyebrows at Sam, pointed, a little proud of himself. That is when Sam realises he may have made a rather monumental mistake.
When Dean has finished scaring himself to death creeping down the ominous and unshakeably haunted-feeling corridor, he finds himself in a fucking sex dungeon. Not that he's ever been in one before, but he's seen enough porn in his time to know what one looks like – and this one is fully equipped with more than the basics. Dean gulps audibly, taking in the sex swing, the iron rack, the whipping bench, the big, harnessed wheel thing that- dammit, he doesn't even want to know.
He's about to take his chances plunging back into the undoubtedly ghost-infested hallway, but then something moves out of the corner of his eye. He stills, preparing himself to fight off a monster, and hoping to God that he doesn't have to use one of those leather whips by the far wall to fight it off.
He glimpses beige trenchcoat a fraction of a second before it disappears, hidden behind a large spiked…instrument.
"Cas." Dean sighs, cursing himself for not seeing this coming. He's not speaking to his brother ever again. "I know you're there. Come out."
It takes a few moments, but eventually Dean spots a sliver of Castiel's head peering round the black, iron rack thing in front of him, looking… well. Terrified.
"Cas, come on. It's just me, I know this is sucky, but they locked us in here. I'm not gonna yell at you anymore if that's what you're-"
Dean's sentence is unfortunately interrupted when all the breath is knocked clean out of his lungs as he's tackled to the cold, concrete floor. His face, taking the brunt of the bruising, throbs in pain, and he groans, trying to work out what the hell just happened.
"Dean!" He hears Castiel cry out, and he tries not to be too pleased when he hears the concern evident in the Angel's voice.
He spreads his palms flat on the rock-hard floor, pushing himself up with considerable effort. He notices a thin dribble of blood ooze out of the corner of his mouth, and groans again, wondering what the hell just caused him to damn near knock his tooth out, and whether he should be a bit more afraid right now.
He looks over to where he saw Castiel a few moments ago, to find the Angel still clambering over all of the (ahem) equipment that he must have had to hide behind to shield himself when he heard Dean coming. So apparently he can't fly, Dean thinks, watching Castiel nearly trip as he climbs over what looks like the wire frame of an old bedstead. With leather ankle straps...
"Graceful." Dean can't help but comment, smirking. Castiel shoots him an incredulous look.
"This is not time for jokes, Dean!" Castiel replies, and Dean is a little wounded. Yeah, he knows Cas is hurting, and it's because of him, but hey, he's trying here. And he's just been tackled to the ground! Plus that joke was an unintended pun, considering Cas is a Grace-filled Angel and everything. "I think it was a violent spirit. We should look for-"
Dean would have loved to hear the end of Castiel's plan, he really would, but the so-called 'violent spirit' apparently has other ideas, so instead, Dean finds himself being dragged off on a fun little journey into the gloomy hallway of death – by his hair.
"Dean!" Castiel shouts again, and Dean barely hears it over his own agonised shouting. He claws at the ghostly fingers curled tightly in his short hairs, his fingers passing uselessly through the spirit's ghostly flesh. "Don't worry, I'm coming! I'm coming!"
Dean might have suddenly found himself completely alone, in a pitch-black hallway with a murderous ghost, but he couldn't possibly let that one go.
"Now is so not the time, Cas. And you could have at least waited for me!"
Dean doesn't hear Castiel's response, but he's almost certain it's a flush, accompanied by an eye-roll. The ghost has apparently let him go fro the minute, so in the meantime, Dean has been surreptitiously reaching for his trusty knife, doused in holy water as usual, and made of iron so there's no way a ghost could-
"Mother-fucker." Dean hisses, patting the pockets of his jeans to find them completely empty. He doesn't know if this was Gabriel or the ghost, but either way he's pissed. That's when he feels his wrists being dragged sharply backwards, sending him skidding down across the floor until he's backed up against the far wall. Then two very cold, very heavy things clamp tightly around his forearms, pinching his skin slightly in the process.
"Son of a bitch." Dean hisses, but it's too late, he knows, and he braces himself just in time to be hoisted upwards, the metal shackles around his wrists dragging him up the wall until he's suspended, Christ-style, though his feet are still planted firmly on the ground thank goodness.
Dean can't see a damn thing save for the light up ahead, from the room where Cas is, and so he only feels the cold presence of the ghost as it leans up to whisper in his ear: "Only good boys get a safeword."
"Dean? Are you alright? Is the spirit harming you?" Cas yells, breaking through Dean's creepy-as-hell moment with a very kinky ghost.
Dean shudders, trying to regain focus and not be thoroughly creeped out at the idea of being tied up and tortured by a violent, BDSM-crazed nutcase. "It's cool, Cas. Hurry up though, what are you doing in there?"
"My powers are diminished. I'm searching for a weapon."
Dean's heart lurches a little at that – Cas's powers are diminished? Why? Is this just because of Gabriel or… something else? He decides he needs to say this. Now. Before things get any worse between them. "Cas… about what I said, I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean it, any of it. You know I lo-"
Castiel has frozen, listening to Dean's words as they sail out of the darkness, saying everything he'd hoped to hear. He listens harder now, wondering why Dean has stopped, mid-sentence, and his blood runs cold.
Fear pounding through him, Castiel sprints towards the hallway, hating himself for putting off this moment, for assuring himself and Dean that they had time, that he could look for a weapon, because it was just a spirit after all, and Dean couldn't…
It's dark, and Castiel can't see more than an inch in front of his own face. He considers shouting for Dean, but he doesn't want to put him in any more danger, so he stays quiet, if you could call it that, what with his heart pounding and his breath coming in short, quick gasps.
He doesn't have time to feel around for clues. Castiel needs to see what's happening now. Gabriel's wards may be keeping him from extending his wings and flying about, but he can still light up the whole fucking room if he wants to. He closes his eyes, and wills Dean to do the same.
"I… a sex torture… dungeon…"
Sam seems a little incoherent, and Gabriel is sympathetic. Well, as sympathetic as he can be, considering he has no idea what Sam is fretting over.
"Yep. A good one too. They know what they're doing in that place. Well equipped." Gabriel replies, sipping his beer absently.
He's taken them both to a bar, a real bar, while they wait out the inevitable – i.e the tearful, vomit-inducing, sickeningly romantic 'Destiel' reunion.
"I'm not even gonna ask how you know that." Sam mutters from the other side of the booth, not managing to hide his smirk when Gabriel's foot slides up his pants-leg. "This better damn well work, because Dean is never gonna let me hear the end of this."
"Well, the sex torture thing isn't really Cassy's thing I'll grant you, but the whole near-death experience palava should definitely get them all wonderfully reconciled in no-time." Gabriel replies casually, burping softly as a result of the beer. "You know how it is with these adrenaline-filled, panic-inducing situations Sam – hell, it's why you and Dean are so close in the first place. They'll be clutching each other like children by the end of the night."
Sam can only stare, open-mouthed as he tries to comprehend what Gabriel is implying. "Huh?"
"Oh yeah, didn't I tell you the place was haunted?"
Sam nearly spits out his mouthful of beer. "What?! No!"
Gabriel looks surprised at Sam's reaction, and that is completely ridiculous. How did he think Sam would react to this?
"Gabriel! You took Cas's powers away! What is the place haunted by?" Sam exclaims, resisting the urge to reach across the table and shake Gabriel vigorously for being so stupid.
"Did not! Cas can still - as the kids are saying - 'light em up' whenever he wants, he just can't fly anywhere." Gabriel retorts, and he's still leaned back against the plush seating, the epitome of nonchalance, in comparison to Sam who is as tense as a coiled spring. "It's just a violent spirit – one of the kinky customers that died there years ago, back when there were less strict rules about the S&M stuff. You know, the good old days."
Sam jumps up from the table, nearly knocking his beer over in the process. "Right. We're going to help."
"What? Sam, they're fine-"
"Gabriel! You made me send my – emotionally fragile – brother into a deserted sex torture dungeon where he is probably being strung up and abused by a violent spirit as we speak."
"Are you forgetting about Cassy? He's there to back Dean up!"
"Are you forgetting that it's not just my brother currently in an emotionally fragile state? We're going, Gabe. No arguments."
Gabriel folds his arms, staring up at Sam defiantly from his seat, unmoving. The corner of Sam's mouth quirks up in a smile. "We're going or no sex for a week."
"Does that include the blowjob you promised me?"
"Sure as hell does."
Gabriel sighs, and makes a very cross noise, but gets to his feet.
Embarrassed, is of course the first word that springs to mind when Dean realises what just happened, then it deepens, bordering on humiliation. It was damn lucky in the end, that along with a ball gag, the kinky little spirit had decided to go ahead and blindfold him, because the sight of Castiel's grace erupting out of his body, just so he could light up the room and look for Dean, would surely have fried his eyes out.
The ghost, obviously not any kind of match for Castiel's awesome explosive light show, sizzled out of existence as soon as Castiel decided to get down to business.
The Angel however, seems not to notice Dean's beetroot face as he unties him, starting with the blindfold and gag of course. Dean decides to take the opportunity to try his sorry excuse for an apology again, though it seems kind of ridiculous now – Cas is a damn super-being, and here he is trying to entice him back into a relationship after he basically ended things over a trashy book last time.
"Thanks, Cas." Dean says anyway, looking at Castiel's dangerously close face as he leans up to start fiddling with Dean's shackles. Cas's eyes flick downwards to his once, and it's intoxicating.
"Don't mention it, Dean."
"Cas, I just… I was gonna say, before the ghost tried to Sexcetera me… I'm so sorry man. I didn't mean it, what I said – of course I still would have wanted to… to be with you. It doesn't matter about some stupid plan Sam thought up-"
Castiel's hand moves down and a finger presses to his lips. Dean shuts up, because he has to, and because Castiel's big fucking doe-eyes are rendering him useless, staring into his damn soul. "What you're saying is making it very difficult to concentrate."
Dean's shoulders slump a little at the sound of Cas's deep voice cutting him off, well, as much as they can considering his arms are still strung up in the air. He nods, feeling totally disheartened. Cas isn't letting him apologise – what now? Has he really blown it?
He tries to protest his innocence a little further around Cas's finger, but the Angel is making it difficult, and he can't get any words out. Cas just continues to fiddle one-handed with the buckle of the shackle binding his left wrist, not responding.
Dean almost gives up, the noises he's making are, after all, incoherent, but he needs Cas to hear him.
"Don't make me gag you again." Castiel says at length, and it's barely a murmur, but Dean catches it, and stares, eyes wide. Cas is smiling, just a little, and Dean allows himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this might all be okay.
Once Dean is free, it gets a little awkward. They're in a hallway still, though it's significantly less ominously-black now, and Dean wonders how Cas is still emanating light without blinding him, but doesn't question it. His Angel is awesome, okay?
"Sorry I took so long." Castiel says, retracting his finger at last, and it sounds a little strangled. It's all wrong anyway; he shouldn't be the one apologising. "I was searching for a suitable weapon in this... place."
Dean chuckles when Castiel pauses; his Angel clearly doesn't want to acknowledge the level of sin he's currently surrounded by. "Find one?"
Castiel shifts awkwardly, and Dean is suddenly all kinds of curious. "...Yes."
"What was it?" Dean asks, grinning, thinking he might know why Cas would be reluctant to show him a weapon he'd found in this place.
"It was the only thing I could find made of iron." Castiel replies, and he's blushing now dammit, it's so adorable Dean wants to wrap him up and tuck him into his pocket. He waits, looking expectantly at Castiel until the Angel sighs, a little exasperatedly, and holds up his right hand.
Threaded onto his middle finger, like a bizarre, perverse knuckleduster, is a large, spiked iron cock ring. Dean gapes. "Well. That's uh... creative?"
He's not sure, but he thinks he sees the corner of Cas's mouth quirk up in a smile. The Angel pulls the ring off in a fluid motion, throwing it into the dark, shadowy corner with an audible clatter. When Dean looks back up at him, the smile is gone.
"So…" Dean says, . "Can I apologise again, or are you really gonna gag me?"
Castiel doesn't smile this time, just stares at Dean levelly before looking away. His eyes are shining, almost wet again, and Dean thinks he can feel his heart breaking.
I did that.
"When you stopped talking…" Cas says, out of the blue, standing in front of Dean where he's still leaning against the wall. "…I was so afraid. I thought the ghost might have… I thought that maybe…"
Dean can't help it, this is the guy he's been curled up with every night for the past month – how is he supposed to just stand idly by while he's so distressed? He pulls Castiel towards him, hating that he has to fight against the Angel's strength to get him to come in for a hug, but he does eventually, letting Dean's arms settle around his shoulders and relaxing. Castiel's breath is warm against his neck.
"I'm not going anywhere, Cas." Dean says quietly, into his ear. "I'm sorry I hurt you. It's killing me Cas, I'm so sorry."
Castiel squirms a little in his arms, and Dean knows immediately that he's done some serious damage here. He's going to be apologising for this for a while. That is, if Castiel actually forgives him.
"I thought… it seemed like, in the boat… like you'd always felt that way. About me." Castiel says it into Dean's throat, like he can't bear to be having the conversation at all, but Dean feels hands tugging lightly at the fabric of his shirt, and he lets himself hope.
"I did, Cas!" He says, gripping the Angel by his shoulders and moving him backwards a little way so that they can look each other in the eyes. "Come on, you know, you were there! There was all kinds of weird tension-stuff going on between us before my moronic little brother got involved. I was just angry, and scared when I found out about what he'd done. I love you, Cas. And I have for a really, really long time, so stop worrying."
A smile appears on Castiel's lips, and he seems annoyed by its presence, like he didn't want to give in just yet. "Dean, I lo-"
Destiel4eva: yeah, so then Dean tells Cas he loves him
Destiel4eva: if we weren't telling the story he never would have done it lol
Samlicker81: Guys, focus. Then what?
"Ooh! I know" Becky cries from where she's hunched over Chuck's shoulder, studying the conversation on-screen with the intensity of a true fangirl.
Samlicker81: Hold on guys, Becky's got an idea.
Destiel4eva: awesome! Shoot.
"Why doesn't Sam save the day?" Becky asks, grinning widely, her eyes glinting. "He totally would – storming in guns blazing, long hair flowing in the breeze…"
She trails off, eyes glazed, and Chuck coughs to bring her back into the present.
"Sorry, muffin. But yeah! Sam comes in, interrupts Cas, and bam! Cockblock of the century. It'd be hilarious!"
Chuck contemplates it thoughtfully, rolling the idea round in his mind. He types Becky's thoughts out into the chatbox, so that the girls can see and discuss it.
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Omg Becky you GENIUS.
Destiel4eva: haha that's awesome wow
Samlicker81: Yeah? I'll type it up then?
Destiel4eva: squee! It always makes me super excited when you say that
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Becky, you're awesome. Come back and talk to us when your bf doesn't need us, we miss you!
Samlicker81: Haha, she says maybe
Samlicker81: If you guys are a bit more open-minded towards her Wincestiel inclinations, she might return. Till then you're stuck with me.
Destiel4eva: well I like this arrangement too :D but still I NEED MY BECKY CONVERSATIONS
MrsDeanWinchester1997: Chuck! I have another idea, have you typed that up yet?!
Man, Chuck thinks, leaning back as Becky rubs his shoulders fondly, these girls are almost as bad as the Archangels.
"Worst timing ever, Sam." Dean admonishes as he walks back to the car with Sam, a little behind the two Angels striding ahead of them. "Why put us in that friggin place if you're gonna cockblock me at the last second?!"
Sam scowls at his brother, hoping that his glare is menacing. "I thought you might be being probed or something, Dean! That was a haunted sex torture dungeon!"
"Yeah no shit! Thanks again for all your help, Sam!" Dean hisses back, and Sam is about to protest, but Dean marches off, striding purposefully forwards and grabbing Cas by the wrist as he goes.
Whatever, Sam thinks, there will be time to explain himself later.
Gabriel sidles over to him; they're near the car now, and Dean immediately opens the back seat, ushering Cas inside before following in himself. And shutting the door.
"Guess I'm driving then." Sam says, glaring at the side of the car. He looks down at Gabriel after a moment, finding a thunderous expression on his own Angel's face. "Oh, for Christ's- what's your problem?"
"I just had a word with Cas!" Gabriel exclaims, his golden eyes sparking. "Apparently they didn't care for our sudden appearance! We interrupted them mid-reconciliation, Sam!"
Sam rolls his eyes. For the love of Pete, who does he need to tickle around here to get a thank you for all the damn hard work he puts into the Destiel cause? So what if he broke them up a bit early? At least they're talking now.
"Yeah, I guess." Gabriel grumbles, and Sam starts a little, having forgotten once again that Gabriel can read minds. "I still think we should have just stayed at that bar like I said though. As if you would have been able to hold out on me for a week anyway."
Gabriel drops a hand to Sam's ass and squeezes, emphasising his point, as if it wasn't clear enough. Sam wants to be annoyed, but actually, he's just glad he has someone who acknowledges his toils.
"Speaking of which…" Sam says, a little quieter, though of course they're completely alone out here. "Don't I owe you a certain something?"
If Sam is fiddling with the hem of Gabriel's collar, that's merely coincidence of course.
Gabriel swallows, and Sam can feel it against his trailing fingers. He smirks.
"Motel, baby." Sam replies without hesitation, and they make their way quickly towards the car.
Dean knows he has limited time available to him now, and he was so damn close before, he's sure if Sam hadn't interrupted, or the time before, if the friggin ghost hadn't interrupted, he might have actually managed patch things up with the Angel he so, so does not deserve.
"Cas, I meant what I said-" Dean starts to say as soon as the Impala door closes behind them, but he's cut off almost immediately by Cas tugging him forwards, his fingers clenched around the material of his shirt. His lips are crushed against Cas's in moments, and his mind takes a minute to catch up, because he was so sure that Cas would have retreated back into his shell, that he'd have to draw him out all over again.
"I know. You're sorry. Sam's sorry" Cas says against his lips, and Dean is speechless. "I missed you."
Dean reacts then, suddenly knowing exactly what to do because he's done it so many times before. He threads his fingers into tousled black hair, pushing Cas back a little way until he's almost lying, head resting against the opposite door, the Angel's hands gripping his waist. How could he have ever gambled with something this miraculous?
Cas's lips are soft, pliant and he pushes against them, moaning because he thought he'd lost this. It's only been a day, but he feels like he and Cas have been apart for a lifetime, and he straddles the Angel, wanting so badly to be alone with him, to wrap himself up in Cas for weeks, and never emerge. Cas's tongue is gentle, feather-light as it traces the contours of Dean's mouth and he brushes his own against it, running a hand down Cas's waist because he misses the solid presence of his Angel beneath his fingertips.
Cas's own hands reach out for something, and Dean instinctively just knows, twining his fingers with Cas's because he needs to hold on, to join himself to the Angel below him. "Dean," Cas breathes, and Dean changes his technique, sucking softly at the skin of his neck instead, because Cas is trying to say something, and it's probably important, because it always is, "I- I love you… too."
Dean pauses, sitting back on Castiel's thighs as he surveys the thoroughly dishevelled man beneath him. Strike that. The thoroughly dishevelled Angel who loves him.
Castiel clears his throat, sensing Dean's sudden hesitancy. "I love you, Dean Winchester. I have done since I first cradled your soul in my hands."
Well, fuck. No wonder he was upset when he thought Dean only wanted sex with him because his wings were pretty.
Dean leans down again, blinking away the sting of tears because he's a man goddamit, and Angels don't make him cry. No matter how cute they are. He presses his lips softly to Cas's, focusing on the soft, chapped warmth. He presses a little harder, his hands sliding up Castiel's chest, and he starts to murmur against his lips, like a mantra, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
Castiel makes a broken noise at the repeated phrase, like he can't accept it, not quite, so Dean keeps saying it. And he will, until he understands.
That's when Gabriel appears in the front seat.
"Knew that sex dungeon would get you two all worked up." Gabriel says, his elbows resting on the back of the seat, looking over at Cas and Dean as they scramble up into a more dignified position. Castiel scowls at Gabriel, who just winks. "Atta boy."
Sam opens the door seconds later, his gigantic frame barely fitting into the driver's seat. "So," He says conversationally, not looking behind him and switching the engine on; Dean is immediately suspicious, "have you guys made up yet, or am I gonna have to shrink someone's clothes again?"
"Not funny, Sam." Dean says crossly, and Gabriel barks a laugh.
"I would like to request that you drop Dean and I at a Motel, Sam." Castiel says, out of the blue. His casual tone kind of makes Dean want to bury his face in his hands. But at the same time, it's all kinds of hot. "We have some issues to work out."
Sam stares at Cas in the rearview mirror, open-mouthed. It takes him a moment, but he nods, and pulls out of the parking space, apparently looking for the nearest motel.
"That's where we were headed anyway, right babe?" Gabriel adds, apparently because he has no discretion filter. Sam just squirms and shifts uncomfortably when Gabriel tucks an errant curl behind his ear.
Dean makes a vaguely disgusted noise from the back seat, choosing to bury his face in Cas's neck instead.
"What, so… you guys aren't up for sharing rooms?" Gabriel asks.
Everyone groans as the car speeds off into the night.