Finally, the story has come to an end!
I want to thank all the readers, it's because of you that I managed to finish this. I know I took a long time, and I'm sorry for that, but I definitely was not going to leave you with an unfinished story!
Thanks for all the comments, the follows, and the favorites! This was a great story to write, my longest fanfiction to date, and I'm very proud of how it came out!
Please leave comments about what you thought, I would be very appreciative!
There will be many stories to come after this, I already have a few ideas, so if you enjoyed this one, be ready for more!
Dean shook down to his foundation, trying to pull away from the angel that held him tenderly. His voice was deeper than usual, fraying his calm even more. Though he wanted to melt into his angel and listen to him speak for hours, he couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of unease that trickled down his spine. The dream had felt so real, and though he knew the figure before him was the true Castiel, it didn't change the fact that he was terrified. The angel's arms were wrapped around him tightly, trying to provide the comfort he desperately needed, with his face burying in Dean's neck. The thought made Dean pause in his attempt to move away; in fact, he pushed closer into the contact, regardless of his rapid heartbeat and crippling fear. He lifted his arms only slightly against Castiel's back, finding himself comforting the angel in turn, who was, ironically, there to help him. It was strange, and for a moment, he felt as if the entire situation was right, that they belonged in that motel room, clenched to each other and both seemingly on the verge of tears.
He could feel Castiel shaking against him, and the odd sensation was enough to bring him back to reality. This being was indeed his Cas, the very angel who had saved him. He pulled him from Hell without a qualm, rescued him from another group of demons, and had been by his side during numerous occasions. Their bond was growing daily, with each debilitating endeavor, and it was frightening to realize just how close they were becoming. Dean's heart clenched at the thought, and he knew without a doubt that he needed to sever the connection between them before it became something they both couldn't handle: before it coalesced into a maelstrom that would swallow them whole.
If he waited any longer, he would be lost to the warmth the angel provided, and he wouldn't be able to get away, probably couldn't if he wanted to. There was no alternative. He was filth and wasn't worth the love and devotion an angel could provide, and there was just no getting around that fact, no matter how hard his subconscious tried. With a cry, he pushed the angel out of his arms and looked away immediately. Tears filled his eyes but they were unmoving as he held them back, attempting to the best of his ability to have a shred of dignity.
He didn't turn to look at him; instead, he maneuvered to flee, feeling as though it was the perfect opportunity to finally get away. He just couldn't keep sullying the grace and beauty of the angel in front of him, it would be selfish and downright evil – and though Dean had done terrible things in his lifetime, he wasn't enough of a bastard to destroy the angel too. Castiel, however, was having none of it. He gripped Dean's arms with angelic strength, and Dean could feel his gaze falling down upon him, burning into every vestige within. The heat that suffused through his very core burned and burned, igniting his soul and ripping at his self-control with sharpened claws. Dean struggled to get away, keeping his gaze pinned on the other side of the room. He knew that if he looked toward him even once, he would fall into the cerulean depths of his angel's eyes and would fall irrevocably.
The grip on his arm wouldn't let up, no matter how much he screamed and pulled away. There was no pain, nothing that could put the angel in the wrong; just the idea of being pulled and forced forward was enough to drive him wild. He wasn't acting like himself – he knew, but the pain and the memories were returning in that sudden moment. He heard a deep intake of breath from the angel, and that was when he risked a glance. When he saw the look of pure desperation and sadness etched across his face, he knew how much of a mistake that one glimpse had been. He stopped pulling away, ceased moving entirely and fell apart. His limbs gave out immediately as he toppled over onto the floor without another thought. Castiel came along, falling to his knees before him, gripping his shoulders and holding on for dear life. Dean felt broken then; a mirror shattered to pieces, a puzzle thrown to bits, the last semblance of fight retreating, leaving nothing but emptiness in its wake.
"There's nothing to fight for, Cas. Nothing to try to repair. I'm empty. Broken. Just give up. Leave me alone and go. You've saved me enough."
His words left him in a rush, as if he couldn't contain himself. Castiel loosened his grip on him, and in that moment, he truly thought he would give up and leave. But then, Cas lifted his chin and stared directly at him. One look into those eyes, and Dean suddenly felt as if his entire being was ripped from his chest. The pain reflected there, the outright agony, was disturbing. He had never seen such emotion in the eyes of the angel before, never even realized he was capable of such a feat. Castiel stared at him, looking as though he wanted to bawl and fall apart as well, but he held it together. He placed his cheek upon Dean's in that instant, a shaky breath leaving his lips.
"Dean. No matter what may have happened to you, no matter how many times you may have been hurt, you will never be beyond saving. Dean Winchester will never fall apart and break. He is too strong, way too strong, to lose himself at the whims of demons. I could feel it, Dean. The pain you suffered, the agony. I could feel your rage, your strength, your determination. Everything you experienced, I was there with you. Every emotion you lived through, I took every single one upon myself. You will never, in any instance, be alone."
At the words, Dean felt himself stiffen. He didn't know what he could possibly say after that declaration, he was too taken aback. Various thoughts barreled into his mind after Castiel went silent, all coming back to 'I could feel it, Dean'. He was struck dumb for a few moments, staring into the depths of blue he had become so familiar with. Castiel watched him, reproachful, perhaps wondering how he was going to go about helping without making anything worse. He saw the deep pain reflected in those eyes, and he wanted more than anything to soothe him and take his pain into himself. He was quite sure Castiel was going through something equally as traumatizing as he himself was, but he was a selfish bastard.
After the silence stretched to uncomfortable levels, Dean lifted a hand to the angel's cheek. It would be a good idea to move away – to forget this conversation was taking place and leave without another word, but he just couldn't do that, no matter how much better it would be for the both of them. Dean wanted to know what he meant, why those words were spilling out of him in heaps, and running away wouldn't help. He didn't move closer to caress him, however. The hand hovered for a few moments, achingly close to touching him, before he dropped it with an anguished cry.
"What do you mean?"
His voice was low – cautionary, and the angel's presence grew less encroaching as his gaze fluttered away. The warmth in Dean's chest was replaced by a coldness that made him shiver. His hand returned, quivering for a moment before he gripped the angel's chin lightly, turning his head and returning the stare that had been absolutely penetrating only moments before. The pain in his gaze was doubled, and Dean was having trouble keeping it together as he stared transfixed. He looked as if he was the one being tormented, as if he was the broken one.
Though he didn't want to believe it, Dean suddenly understood what he meant when he said the words. He could feel it, literally, and the idea made him physically sick. His throat closed in on itself as he figured it out. Castiel didn't rush to say a word, and the quiet made Dean's control shift. He wanted to hear the words from his lips, wanted to know exactly what he had meant from the angel himself. His grip loosened until his hand fell, but Castiel didn't get a chance to pull away before Dean's hands bunched into his shirt, pulling him closer and closer until they were chest to chest. Dean was glaring, he couldn't help it, as he stared. The proximity between them was clawing and devastating, but Dean ignored the tingle that ran through his body easily, anger and many other emotions taking precedence over lust.
"Cas. Tell me. Tell me what you mean. Right now."
The words fell from his lips as a command, loud and unrelenting, and Castiel stared at him before he took a shaky breath. He didn't try to create space between them; if anything, Castiel grew closer, their lips only inches apart. For a moment, Dean wondered what would happen if he closed the distance between them. The rage building in his system was enough of an indicator to how the entire situation would go. He would end up hurting the angel again, both physically and emotionally. He couldn't keep hurting him – it was ripping his insides apart, not to mention how Castiel must feel. He would do anything for him, that much was certain – but how much was too much? He wanted to stay angry and yell over what he was being told, but he simply quieted down and listened.
"Your dream, Dean. I felt it, I saw it. We are connected, the Righteous Man and his angel. Your pain was and is mine, I know why it plagues you better than you know. Your experiences make no difference to the quality of man you are. You are special. Beautiful. No matter how you see yourself, those thoughts of worthlessness and being broken will never be true."
For a moment, he didn't say a word, just shook in quiet contemplation. Silence was becoming a regular thing between them, but there was no helping it. Castiel's blue eyes were practically bulging out of his skull at this point, the same emotions swirling through them as before. Dean wanted to embrace him, hell, he wanted to cry into his fucking shoulder and feel at peace, but that wasn't going to happen for either of them, especially after the angel dropped such a bombshell. He knew, without being told, that there was more to the story than that. If Castiel could feel the pain brought on by just a dream, Dean had a feeling it was much worse than he had anticipated, and the idea sickened him. If it was possible that the angel felt everything he had gone through, it would mean that he had inadvertently let them both down. He had given up after a while, allowed Erial to do whatever he wanted, and the idea that Cas knew… it was nauseating.
"Cas… did you… could you see what Erial did to me?" His voice was practically a whisper, and the way Castiel grimaced and turned his head was enough of an answer for him.
Dean pushed him away, a sound escaping his throat that indicated pure agony on his part. He looked back immediately, watching an immediate change in Cas as he rushed up against him, pushing him against a wall with a thud. Dean positively glared up at him, and the look in the angel's expression was frightening, reminding him of the day after they met, when Castiel had growled that he could send him right back to Hell. Dean wanted to look away and keep his eyes on something else, but the angel wouldn't let him. His hands gripped his shoulders, face a breath away, and Dean broke down in sudden anger.
"Son of a bitch… You fucking felt it, didn't you? Experienced it? You were in pain because of me, Cas. Because I was weak and couldn't stop it! It's my fault, dammit. My fault you had to deal with this shit, all me. You should have left me in Hell when you had the chance!"
The angel's voice was deeper than ever, filled with the power and grace within him, hovering over Dean like a tiger waiting to pounce. He had shouted the words, looking as if he wanted to punch him or worse. During the entire conversation, he had forgotten about Castiel's angelic nature until he couldn't see anything but the power radiating from him. He hadn't realized that this man was not a man at all, but a supreme being with the ability to squash him like a bug in under a second. But he wasn't afraid, no matter how strongly the look was affecting him. No, he was staring at him angrily, green eyes blazing with numerous emotions that were brimming to the surface. He wouldn't give up, no matter how terrifying the look he was given. He didn't believe Castiel would hurt him, and it gave him both the courage and the strength to look him in the eyes.
"I shared the pain that was inflicted upon you, brought about by demons. You are innocent, in no way does this reflect who you are or what you've become. If I hadn't have taken some of your pain upon myself, you wouldn't have survived. It was because of me that you healed, my grace a fleeting presence in your mind, keeping you alive. I… I couldn't let you die!"
The sudden shift in expression was enough to bring him to his knees. Castiel's eyes were watery, something Dean had never seen before. He looked like he wanted to cry and fall apart against him, and though he had wanted nothing more than to leave only moments ago, he was debating with himself. Comforting the angel was now top priority, but before he could move forward, before he could kiss away the pain and sadness, Castiel continued, eyes pleading.
"It was partly selfish, to allow you to suffer while touches of my grace healed you nightly. That's why I felt it, Dean. I wouldn't let you go through that on your own. I was always there, inside, in agony with you. I was humbled and brought to my knees at the strength you possessed. I prayed that you wouldn't fight, that you would accept it. Each time you fought, the pain hit you twofold, and I wanted you to be spared the agony.
"Each night, I looked for you. I searched the world for you, regardless of the apocalypse. It took months, not to mention help from Sam, but I finally found you. I cradled you in my arms like the moment I saved you and raised you from perdition, bleeding and begging for me to spare your life. I wouldn't let you die, Dean, I couldn't allow it to happen. And I won't allow you to fall apart now. I'm selfish, truly fallen from grace. But I won't let you fall, Dean. You're worth everything and more. I would die for you… I have died for you. Whatever I have done, I did it for you, and would do it again."
Dean was dumbfounded, absolutely stricken silly at the profession. The entire time, the entire fucking ordeal he had suffered through, was experienced not only by him, but by an angel who wanted nothing more than to save him from his pain. Though that idea was enough to enrage him, the fact that he had kept him alive was what really sent him overboard. Dean wanted to hit him at that moment, could see himself swinging a fist at his angelic face, but he knew he couldn't. If the expression on the angel's face was anything to go by, nothing would come out of pitching a fit and reacting in true Dean-fashion. Though he'd wanted to die more than anything during those heinous months of captivity and torture, he couldn't say he wasn't thankful – for completely selfless purposes. He had things to take care of, a brother to look after, an angel to comfort and console through the worst of times, and he couldn't just die and leave them to their own devices.
But though he knew these things, it didn't detract from the fact that he was damaged goods. Sure, Cas had helped to piece him together every time, but it would never change that fact. Though he knew this, knew it all with a clarity that was blinding, he didn't stop himself from staring at the angel, who was willing to accept him for everything and more. The thought petrified him to the spot, gluing him to the floor and keeping him grounded. How the angel could love him so strongly, he would never know. He wanted to flee at that moment, to run away and never look back, to find himself in an empty field or desolate area and scream until he was hoarse. The look he was on the receiving end of kept him from leaving, however. He couldn't run away from Cas, no matter how much he felt he needed to. He was necessary for the angel's sanity, and vice versa. They needed to be close, never apart, and he finally understood the need, the straight want, of comfort and love.
If Castiel could live with the fact that the man he loved was a monster and defiled, Dean was sure he could come to grips with himself in the future. It would be difficult, but since Castiel would do anything for him, he wanted to do whatever he could for his angel in return. Die for him? No problem. Do anything to make him happy? Definitely. But to heal over time from the damage that others had inflicted upon him, to heal from the damage he had thrust purposefully upon himself, both physically and emotionally? It would be challenging, but there was nothing Dean wouldn't do for his angel at this point. The thoughts were swirling in his mind, coming together and combining piece by piece, and Dean finally understood what he needed to do. Running away wouldn't give him closure, but being there for the angel, holding him, loving him, was what he needed to survive.
Dean was quiet as he contemplated, staring into the eyes of his angel, seeing undying love swirling in them. It was enough to humble him and make him see the rightness of the entire situation, enough to make him accept that no matter what had been done to him, what had happened between the two of them, they needed each other, and that would never change. No matter how dirty he saw himself, how decrepit and broken down, this being before him would always love him and do whatever he could for him… and thus, so would he.
In that moment, he welcomed the rush of love and admiration with tears in his eyes. He didn't cry often, but during a time like this, the tears were warranted. He felt Castiel's arms drop from his shoulders, hands wrapping around his waist and gripping tightly. Without warning, he was slammed against the angel's body in a flurry of limbs, brought flush with the warmth coming off of him in waves. His angel was breathing hard, but he didn't rush or pull him in for a kiss. Instead, he simply stood there, feeling him, arms quickly tightening around his back and keeping him close, seemingly basking in the closeness that threatened to eat him alive.
Dean was staring, unable to tear his eyes away from Castiel's. They were reaching deep into his soul, pulling out the worst of him and soothing, cradling his broken soul and embracing it. The idea that Castiel, the angel who had pulled him from Hell, was the only creature capable of making him feel a semblance of relief, was a weight off his shoulders. With a choked sound, he grew closer, crowding the angel until his head was lying on his shoulder, perched sideways so he could continue to stare. He felt the angel's arms moving, one hand resting on his chin and pulling him upward, while the other gripped the back of his head gently and held on for dear life.
Dean was transfixed on the being before him as their lips met sweetly, the lightest of touches that was enough to drive him insane with want. He uttered a groan of pleasure as his own arms tightened around the angel, pulling him as close as they could be before the kiss elevated into a mauling of mouths and tongues, a rough assault that had the two men weak with desire. Castiel buckled, dropping to his knees and taking Dean with him. In moments, they were sprawled on the floor, Dean lying on top of Castiel, their mouths still fused as if nothing could break them apart. Dean's hips swiveled expectantly, slamming his straining erection flush with the angel's hard length. Both men gasped into their respected partner's mouth, the sudden sensation too much to handle. He moved again, this time slowly, cock straining against the uncomfortable material of his sweats and giving him pause. He was practically weeping into the angel's mouth as his pace quickened, and though he didn't want to come in his pants like a teenager, he couldn't seem to stop the unrelenting friction.
Castiel, however, gripped his hips and stopped the progression. Dean tried to move, to continue, but there was no winning with the strength of an angel. He groaned, pulling his mouth away and glaring upward. His angel simply watched him, lips curled to the side in a knowing smirk that made Dean want to cry out in pleasant agony. For a few moments, there was no movement, simply heat, a burning, clawing entity ripping him apart from the inside.
"You're killing me, Cas." He cooed, voice deep with the desire he felt, cock pounding with it.
He tried to inch forward and kiss the angel again, but still, he couldn't move, held in place by that ungodly strength. Seconds away from shouting in exasperation, Castiel pushed him backward without a second thought, making sure not to bang his head against the floor. He straddled his hips and smiled, actually smiled, a full-blown expression of teeth that he had never seen from him before. The sight warmed him and made him moan, and Castiel reached forward and pulled Dean's shirt over his head slowly, taking his time. The brush of skin against Castiel's coat made him groan, the shuffle of material almost too much to handle. He couldn't handle the slow pace, it was torture, driving him insane with each thrust of tongue, and his cock twitched. He wasn't thinking clearly when he started thrusting upward, wanting nothing more than to feel the angel wrapped so tightly around him.
"Fuck me, Cas! Please, just fuck me!"
The words surprised him, a sudden surge of apprehension crawling up his spine even through the pleasure of their proximity. Apparently, the angel noticed his change in demeanor, because he leaned forward, keeping his body upward and away before kissing him gently on the lips. He bent his head toward his ear, fingers reaching beneath his shirt and tingling against his flesh, touching him in all the right places. His fingers ghosted against his hipbones, and though Dean was frightened, he agonized over the light touches that threatened to break him. Castiel's tongue slid against his ear in a tantalizing display of affection, and he whispered quietly, voice silky sweet and dripping with passion.
"I won't hurt you, Dean. I could never hurt you. You're going to have to trust me if we do this. I'm your angel, yours. Trust me. Allow me to pleasure you until you're crying my name. Feel me everywhere and know that I will never let you hurt. I don't want to fuck you. I want to love you, cherish you, bring you to a precipice and fall with you. I love you, Dean Winchester. More than anything, more than everything. More than Heaven, more than God."
The admission was enough to quell the fear, Dean staring at Castiel with wide eyes and an open heart. He gripped the lapels of the angel's overcoat, pulling him on top of him roughly and clashing his lips against his own. His face was wet, but the angel didn't seem to mind as he kissed with a fervency that was downright scary. Dean held him close as he pushed the coat off of his shoulders, unable to do much else than that. Castiel took it upon himself to rip the jacket from his shoulders, throwing it without a care to the floor while Dean gripped his tie and pulled it, dropping it with trembling hands. Castiel was unbuttoning his shirt unceremoniously, still kissing him, unable to pull away from the sensations of lips against lips.
Dean's tongue slid smoothly against his lips tauntingly as he gripped at his waist, pulling his pants down and away until they bundled at his feet, stopped by his shoes. Castiel was in nothing but boxers at this point, and when Dean motioned to pull them away with a quick motion, his precious angel stopped him. He slammed his chest against Dean's, the touch of skin against skin warm and unrelenting. With his hands on Dean's waist, he traveled down his body, tongue sliding hotly against skin. It swirled around each nipple, drawing quiet gasps from him with each sensuous slide. Castiel sucked at his beaded nipples, giving each attention until Dean was mewling in rapture, hips slamming upward. Castiel quieted him down, licked one long stripe down his chest before he reached the line of his sweats. Gripping the edges, he pulled them down slowly, bunching the material as he brought it down inch by inch, still taking his sweet time, driving Dean crazy with each pull. Once the cool air jolted against his cock, his angel hurried to rip the pants away before placing a chaste kiss upon the tip, drawing another long gasp from the hunter.
"Jesus Christ, Cas. Are you trying to kill me?" The words came out in a breathless huff, drawing a chuckle from the angel as he pulled away for a moment, pulling off his shoes and slacks, followed by the pesky boxers, until he was stark naked for Dean's appreciation. Dean licked his lips in anticipation, watching as the angel crept forward, eyes never leaving his. He was inching closer on his knees, and the sight had him dripping pre-come in a daze.
Castiel crawled forward, pushing Dean's legs close together until his knees were on either side and locking him in place, his cock bobbing beautifully above his own, swollen, red, and dripping. It made Dean's mouth water. He'd never been one for males, but the sight of Castiel's cock was like a dream. He wanted to taste it again, delight in the shouts and cries that would spew from the angel's lips; but from the pained expression on his angel's face, he was going to have to wait for another time. He looked like he was just about ready to burst, longing evident in those blue depths.
His angel leaned down and kissed the tip of his cock once again, and he moaned loudly, a sound that was probably enough to wake the dead. He felt the warmth and heat of his mouth surround him, taking him in one fell swoop. His cock was devoured and puffed out the angel's cheeks, but that wasn't the best part. Castiel's eyes stayed glued to his own, watching him even as he sucked him off, drawing pleading grunts and cries as he drew his tongue in a circular motion around the head. Dean gasped when he pulled off, only seconds later, replacing the spit and tongue with a lewd slide of cock against cock. Dean had no idea where the angel learned such techniques, but he was glad for it. The angel slapped his cock gently with a flick of his wrist, causing him to fall down onto his back and bang his head none too softly against the floorboard.
"Fuck. Cas, if you don't get inside me right now, I'm not going to last."
When Castiel didn't speak, simply crawled up his body and kissed him softly, Dean cried out in agony. The pleasure was too much, blinding him, killing him. He motioned to grip his cock, to give up, but the angel grabbed his wrists and held them above his head, staring with purpose. His cock gave another twitch against the angel's thigh when he saw what he was doing next. He leaned down, mouthing at the tie that was lying beside them, and lifted it up with just his teeth. The sight of the long, blue material seeping out of his lips was a fantasy Dean hadn't known existed for him, and he groaned loudly when he felt the silk wrap around his wrists. He hadn't realized, but they were now lying on the bed, and he was tied to the headboard by the silk, body naked and spread out for the angel's pleasure. Castiel grinned, that expression that was meant solely for him, and held up a small tube in his right hand, along with a tiny package. Dean immediately knew it was lube and a condom, and the idea of what was coming next was making him whimper, rather than run away in fear.
His angel took his sweet time yet again, no matter how crazed he felt. He opened the tube with gentle fingers, squeezing some into his palm and coating his hands and fingers before gripping Dean's thighs and pulling him as close as he could get while he was tied, until his legs were draped over the angel's broad shoulders. Moments later, Dean felt the invasion before he could say a word, a single finger piercing through his tight hole, slipping inside and curling knowingly. He jutted forward, crying out in a mixture of pleasure and a slight stab of pain. He didn't think about Erial, about Hell, about anything but the feelings that engulfed him and held on for dear life. Castiel was whispering sweet nothings above him, a combination of languages that left him breathless and wanting.
"Cas… fuck. Give me another. Please."
The chuckle was enough to kill him, but the moment a second finger was inched inside, he was undulating on the bed, pushing himself downward and swallowing the fingers whole. His hips moved of their own accord, the circular motion enough to drive him insane. When he felt the fingers inside him scissor, spreading him open and leaving him breathless, he wanted to cry out for more. Castiel felt his body tremble and took it as incentive to slam his fingers forward, hitting his prostate in a rough pulse which caused Dean to lean forward and cry out, eyes bulging out of his head, sweat pouring from his flesh and pooling on the sheets. He fell backward then, staring at the ceiling, listening to the harsh breaths exhaled by the angel, his own matching them in turn.
"Your cock, angel. I want your cock. Fuck me. Cas, just fuck me already. I can't take any more than this. Stop teasing and fuck me."
He needed to come desperately, but not before he felt the swollen weight inside him, pounding him into the mattress and bringing him to his own personal Heaven. Though he was begging now, the angel still didn't rush, reaching downward and pulling his fingers out, one by one. Dean cried out at the loss of fullness, watching Castiel with attentive eyes. When he dipped forward, dropping Dean's legs until they were on either side of him, he stared in surprise. The wet feeling of tongue sliding up and down his hole made him scream. Castiel was licking him like an ice cream cone, up and down, slowly, that relentless ache reaching fever pitch. His cock was engorged now, red as a tomato and just begging for attention. He cried repeatedly with each swipe against his puckered hole, until the tongue left him. He groaned at the loss, twitching and frantically looking upward, trying to see what was happening.
The angel lifted his head, licking his lips lasciviously, the lecherous bastard. Dean was seeing stars by now, unable to see the sight of his angel taunting him any longer. He closed his eyes and moaned repeatedly. Though the feeling was lost, he was still in a permanent cloud of bliss, his thoughts continued to return to the angel's ministrations, making him beg for mercy. Just the thought of being tongued was enough to drive him over, but he held on. He bit his lip when he heard the sound of the cap of lube opening yet again, the squirt making him cry in anticipation.
"Please, please. Cas, oh my god. I don't know where the fuck you learned this shit, but you're a natural. Fuck me now, please. I'm begging you."
Castiel reached forward and kissed him sloppily, a filthy slap of lips on lips. The angel slid his tongue in and out of his mouth, a taunt that resembled sex. Dean's hips plummeted forward, his cock sliding gently against his thigh again, causing Dean to gasp and shake. The angel gripped the head of his cock, squeezing down his orgasm and making him hit the pillows hard. He slammed his head repeatedly, agonized by the denial. Castiel licked his lips one last time before he bit into the condom package, pulling out the wretched thing and placing it snugly upon his cock, then lubing up accurately until he was satisfied, sliding his hand against his cock with a gasp. Dean could tell he was close as well, knew he wanted to come just as badly, but held it back behind his arrogant grin, wanting to fill him up. The angel gripped him by the thighs again, pulling his legs upward and wrapping them around his waist.
The head of his cock was at his entrance in moments, pushing slowly until he was deep inside. The invasion gave Dean pause at first, making him shake, but he quickly overcame the fear, need blossoming in the pit of his stomach, rising and rising until there was nothing more he could want. He needed Castiel, needed him inside, and needed everything he could give and more. At first, the damned angel didn't move, simply leaned there on his knees and stared forward, watching Dean's reaction with obvious pleasure. Then, his hips slowly pushed forward, setting a slow rhythm that had Dean seeing white. The feeling was blinding, and he moaned with each thrust.
When the pace began to pick up, his head continuously slammed into the bed over and over, while the headboard creaked and banged against the wall. A litany of 'fuck, fuck, fuck' escaped his lips with each pressing slam. He felt his orgasm creep up, even without being touched, slamming into him from his center, reaching every corner of his body and filling him with heat. His eyes rolled into the back of his head but he didn't pass out this time, wanting to feel it all, needing it more than oxygen. His cock pulsed, come spurting against the angel's stomach and chest, painting him in a filthy picture. He groaned with the force of it, how unending it was, until he had nothing left to give. He felt Castiel's hand on his cock at the end, milking him, drawing out the last bit of come before he was limp. The angel still pummeled into him, but it didn't take long before he joined him in bliss. The lights flickered and died out, sunlight the only source of light in the room, bouncing off of Castiel's skin beautifully. He felt his angel fall forward after pulling out of him, his chest heaving against his own. Dean stifled a chuckle when Castiel leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips, hands caressing him everywhere, perhaps committing the feel of him to memory.
"You wanna untie me now, angel?" He muttered quietly, voice filled with mirth as he watched his angel loosen the tie until it fell from his wrists.
Dean gripped his shoulders and pulled him close, snuggling into his chest and pulling him against his body, skin to skin. Castiel dropped his head against his neck, placing small kisses against his collarbone until he breathed out a sigh of contentment. They laid there for a while, not sure how much time went by before Dean realized something. He glanced up, taking a look at the clock that was hanging on the wall. Hours had passed since they'd started, and he had no idea where his brother had gotten off to. He started to sit up, but Castiel pushed him down, glaring.
"What are you doing?"
His voice was deep, as if he was sleepy. Though he was an angel, the physical activity was probably enough to knock him out. Dean chuckled at the idea for a split second before panic set in. He was too enraptured in the angel, unable to think clearly when it mattered. His brother could be anywhere by now, and he felt his air supply constrict at the prospect.
"I have to go find Sam, Cas. He was supposed to get some food; apparently that was hours ago, man. What if he's in trouble?"
The chuckle leaving Castiel's lips was disconcerting, and for a moment he wondered why he was laughing about such a serious matter before the angel pulled him in tight, snuggling into his neck one more time. Dean was seconds away from slapping him off when he shook his head.
"Sam is fine. In fact, he called me here, told me how you were acting, that there was something wrong. He said he was going to go out for a while, give us time alone. How else did you think I found you? I always come when you call, Dean, even inadvertently."
Dean sighed, the last of his fear leaving him in a rush as he kissed the top of Castiel's head gently. Emotions bombarded him from every angle, and he smiled against his angel's forehead, unable to believe his life had turned out like it had. Sure, they still had an apocalypse looming over their heads, and not to mention the devil and Michael gunning for their bodies, but at least there was something good to have come out of the entire ordeal: he had Cas, his angel, the sweet boon that made his life meaningful.
"I love you, Cas. Thanks for being there through it all. Just remember now that I'm going to be around for you always. You're the reason I still exist, angel. If not for you, I don't want to think what could have happened. You're my salvation."
He hugged him tight, breathing in the scent of the angel, love shining like the grace of his angel through his eyes. He recognized what had been done to him – accepted the torture, the rape, the hell he suffered and more. He accepted the love and admiration for his angel, which was returned in kind, and knew that they were going to be okay.