With his head on the pillow, Dean watches as Castiel leans down over him. The angel's nose brushes against his hipbone. His stubble drags across skin as he plants a tender kiss on the curve of flesh.
Dean's breath hitches, and Castiel pulls away, pushing himself up on his arms to meet Dean's gaze. Castiel's blue eyes are round and vulnerable, as if he is frightened he caused pain, and Dean can only smile under the intensity of that stare that makes his heart bloat with tenderness. He has never been loved like this, not ever in his life.
"If I hurt you," Castiel starts, voice broken. He looks down and bites his lip.
Dean reaches for Castiel's face, pressing his palm against the curve of the angel's cheek. With gentle coaxing, Castiel's gaze returns to his.
Dean wants to ease the fears that widen those eyes, to smite the demons that plague Castiel's thoughts and threaten to ruin the perfection of this moment, but he has never been good with words. Plus, hell, sometimes sex is awkward, and some positions can be uncomfortable, and sometimes things aren't quite ready to be fit into that are fit into anyway. So saying, "Nothing you can ever do will hurt me," is a bullshit promise, and Dean refuses to make it.
Instead he says, "I love you," and hopes that Castiel can see the unwavering trust in his eyes. Cas'd never hurt him on purpose. Maybe this first time is going to be strange but it's only going to keep getting better from here as they learn how to touch and taste and give and take.
In a blink, Dean can see a thousand different moments, could-be's, would-be's of a life with Castiel. There is sex, hot and heavy, sweet and tender. Thousands of kisses. No, more than that. Lingering touches. Longing looks. And in each vision, the overwhelming feeling of belonging and the comfort of home.
Dean opens his eyes again, and Castiel's face has softened, relaxed.
"That is the future you see for us," he says, his voice returning to its usual gruffness, no longer clipped with pain and fear.
"No," Dean says. He continues quickly when, for a terrible instant, the tightness returns to Castiel's face, pulling his lips into a frown. "That's only part of it," Dean tells him. "Just the start."
The obvious relief washes over Castiel like a wave, unraveling taunt nerves and muscles. His shoulders loosen. His hands release their death-lock on the bed sheet.
Cas' smile is shy but contagious, and as Dean mirrors it, it grows.
"Just get down here already, would you?" Dean says, pulling Castiel to him by the shoulders.
The angel makes no more objections.
A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave comments/criticisms. I posted this onto my tumblr first so if you've seen it before that's why. My tumblr screenname is the same as this one. :)
Disclaimer - I do not own Supernatural nor make any money from this fanfic. This is all just for fun!