A/N: This is another one that ran away from me and got a bit angsty, and I don't know how.

"You are severely lacking in traditional human customs," Castiel commented, leaning over to give the pan in the fireplace an experimental shake, and Dean chortled.

"Said the millennia-old virgin," Dean replied, nudging Castiel with his knees. It was downright cozy in here, with the fireplace going. Dean was lounging back on the sofa enjoying the warmth and the weight of Castiel's body against his legs as the angel sat on the floor in front of him, tending to the pan of chestnuts.

"No longer true," Castiel twisted around to frown at him, "You made sure of that."

Dean chuckled, leaning forward to place a warm kiss on his mouth soundly, petting a hand idly through his hair as he went, and Castiel sighed contently.

"Indeed I did," Dean acknowledged, "But the point still stands that it took you way too long."

Castiel rolled his eyes with a put-upon sigh, "Well, you're certainly helping me make up for lost time."

Dean laughed, leaning in to kiss him again, still giggling against the angel's lips, and he felt Castiel give a small smile in return against his mouth.

"You're a pistol, Cas, you really are," he chuckled, and Castiel's smile widened a little before he turned back toward the fireplace, checking on the pan.

"According to Ms. Stewart, 35 minutes is the appropriate time for the chestnuts to be properly roasted, so we have approximately 29 minutes remaining until we can begin to cool and peel them."

"Wait, hold up," Dean sputtered, leaning down to peer at Castiel over the angel's shoulder. Castiel turned his head to look back with raised eyebrows.


"According to who?"

"Ms. Stewart, I consulted her article on how to properly prepare-"

"Stewart. Like, Martha Stewart, is that who you're talking about?" Dean smirked, and Castiel frowned.

"Yes. You told me that I should consult a web search on how to prepare the chestnuts, and her article was the first result. I found her quite informative, and her instructions easy to comprehend. Why is this so amusing?" Castiel's frown deepened as Dean started laughing, leaning back against the sofa and hugging his sides in hysterics.

"Dean," Castiel said sternly, twisting in his seat again and frowning, "What is that so amusing?"

Dean finally calmed himself down, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he sat up, still grinning like an idiot, "I'll explain later. C'mere," he smiled, sliding his fingers into the thick hair at the back of Castiel's neck and pulling him in for a kiss, his other hand cradling his face, his thumb smoothing the frown lines at the corner of Castiel's mouth.

"You're making fun of me," Castiel pouted, and Dean chuckled with a little shake of his head.

"I'm not, Cas, really," he murmured, "I just forget that there's all this human stuff you don't know about, it's cute, that's all."

Castiel seemed to soften at that, allowing Dean to draw him in for another drawn-out kiss.

"You know," he hummed, "There's a lot you can do in 29 minutes."

"We're down to 27, now," Castiel informed him, and Dean chuckled.

"I can work with that."

Dean slid his hands down Castiel's arms, tugging him gently up by his elbows and the angel followed, letting Dean pull him into his lap as the hunter pressed their lips back together.

Castiel settled open-legged across his thighs, his palms flat against Dean's chest. Dean hummed at the feel of Castiel's thumbs rubbing small circles over his sternum, and he gently ran his hands up the angel's back in return, wrinkling the white dress shirt.

"Do you want to undress me?" Castiel asked, and Dean exhaled a soundless laugh. After having Castiel magic their clothes away one too many times for comfort, he had taken Dean's "Half the fun is getting undressed," advice seriously.

"Yes, Cas, I really do," Dean nodded, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. He leaned in, laying a kiss on each inch of flesh as it was revealed, and humming contentedly at the slide of Castiel's fingers through his hair, fingernails scratching gently against his scalp.

"Hm," Dean sighed, pressing his cheek against Castiel's heartbeat, trailing his hands down his sides and over his hips and thighs, breathing in Castiel's indefinable scent. Something like humid summer nights and deep grass; inhuman, but earthy and rich and utterly comforting.

Castiel pressed a kiss against his hair and Dean smiled, reaching up to pull the shirt down his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"The pants, you can magic off," Dean told him, deciding that he didn't want to part with Castiel long enough to allow that to happen the slow, human way, so the angel did, blinking Dean's clothes off as well.

And if he thought Castiel was beautiful on a normal day, it was nothing compared to how he looked by firelight, his skin glowing warm and his vivid eyes glinting in the low light as he framed Dean's waist with his hands, fingers spread wide to cover as much skin as he could.

Castiel leaned in and kissed him, tongue sliding languidly inside Dean's mouth and he groaned softly, pulling Castiel's hips in tighter, pressing up into the rub of Castiel's shaft against his.

Dean reached between their bodies, taking both of them in hand and starting up a slow, even rhythm that made Castiel breathe an airy whine into his mouth.

Dean trailed his lips from Castiel's and downward, lingering on all the sensitive places on his neck that made him writhe and grind harder into Dean's fist.

Which is why it surprised him when Castiel suddenly reached between them and pulled Dean's hand away, wrapping it instead around his waist and Dean didn't even get a syllable of protest out before Castiel was taking him in hand for himself and rising up on his knees to press Dean inside him.

Dean's head thunked back against the sofa as his brain was overrode with the sensations of hot and tight and slick. That, he had to admit, was one of the angel's more favorable party tricks, and he groaned, eyes fluttering closed as Castiel rose up and pushed back down slowly, grinding his hips in a tight, tiny circle against his pelvis.

He opened his eyes when Castiel pressed his hand to Dean's shoulder, fingers gripping the same, flushed flesh his branded handprint had once been and the other over his heart, where the muscle in question was beating fiercely to keep up with the pleasure sliding up his spine with every up and down of the angel's hips.

Dean shivered, lifting his head to return Castiel's piercing stare, then pushing up to meet Castiel's lips as he leaned in to press his mouth to Dean's hotly.

"Sometimes I wish I had left the mark," Castiel confessed between their lips, and Dean trembled and groaned, jerking up sharply and Castiel gave an answering moan, fingers tightening perceptively on Dean's shoulder.

"I should be satisfied with the sigils on your ribs, simply knowing that it is my carvings keeping you safe from the wrath of heaven, but I can't. I want more," Castiel husked out, shivering when Dean groaned again and wrapped a tight hand around him, stroking in time with Castiel's thrusts.

"I should never feel possessiveness like this," he whispered, and Dean's heart tightened at the fear in Castiel's voice, "I have never coveted anything the way I covet you."

"Cas," Dean panted, arching up to crush their mouths together again; anything to stem the flow of emotion Castiel's words were dredging up in him.

Their movements took on a more frantic edge, Dean thrusting up unsteadily as he hit the edge and tipped over it, fingers digging into Castiel's hips as the angel whined breathily and came, tightening around him as they rode the waves of pleasure together.

Castiel collapsed against him bonelessly, burying his face into Dean's neck, breath thick and heavy.

Dean held him tight, panting light, breathless kisses everywhere he could reach.

"Dean," Castiel started apprehensively, and Dean gripped him a little tighter.

"You're secret's safe with me, Cas," Dean murmured quietly, and Castiel pulled back to look at his face, something vulnerable just under the surface. Dean swallowed hard and kissed him again, trying to will the angel to feel the same devotion beating through the heartbeat under Castiel's palm.

"So, how burnt are those chestnuts?" he asked with a little smile, and Castiel looked over his shoulder at the pan.

"They have been in the pan for approximately 38 minutes. They should be salvageable."

"Salvage them up, then, feather boy, I'm starving."