I want to live. I want to love. I think I am ready.

touch me, and you'll never be alone

D E A N

Day after day, Dean wakes in the angel's arms.

«Cas.» Always, the first words on his lips. Always answered with the angel's own first words.

«Dean.»

Night after night, Dean falls asleep in the angel's arms, listening to his heart beating. Or with the angel in his arms, his own heart beating for the man resting next to him.

«I love you, Cas.»

«I love you, Dean»

How Dean had ever found those words hard to say, he didn't understand. So much time spent alone, lonely with his feelings, because he could not say those words. They had been the hardest words Dean had ever known, and now, he could not stop saying them.

He tasted them on every breath he let out, wanted to scream them out loud for every beat of his heart. The words were written on every kiss. Every touch. Every look. And yet, he felt he could not say them enough.

He heard them from Cas just as often as he himself uttered them. He tasted them on his lips with each kiss. His blue eyes shining and screaming the words.

He'd never heard such beautiful words before.

***

Cas and Dean would stay up later than the others. Usually, the last in the bunker to turn off the lights. The new hunters had chosen bedrooms at the other wing, and Sam and Eileen's room was further down the hall, so the nights staying up late, the comfortable silence rested over them.

Sometimes they would talk in quiet whispers to each other for hours. Sometimes Dean was eager to show Cas one of his favorite movies, having them sitting or laying closely beside each other either in the living room or in Dean's own 'cave'. Hands always somehow touching the other.

A hand rested in the other's lap. A head rested on a shoulder. Foot rested across a lap. Arm rested around a shoulder. A head rested in the crock of the neck. Hands intertwined. A thumb gently stroking the back of a hand. Feet tangled together on the couch.

Dean couldn't get enough of Cas's sweet touches. And neither could Cas.

Their nights are always spent together, in each other's arms. Dean has never slept as well as he does when he sleeps in the angel's arms. The safety he feels in Cas's presence. The love he can feel in his touches. The happiness he knows is clouding his every word.

Some nights there is less sleep.

Less sleep and more touches. Curled against each other, bodies as close as possible. Exploring each other, each other's bodies, in a way they never have before. Touches lingering like whispers all over their skin, their bodies. Underneath thin blankets in the dark of their sanctuary, sweet words are muttered as hoarse whispers, only meant for the other's ear.

Hands exploring and feeling out every inch of skin. Their bodies merging as they move against each other in the comfortable darkness of their room. Moments turning into hours as they lay there tightly against each other, sweet words of love bleeding from their lips. Sweet touches of love burning over their bodies as they learn one and another with their hands, fingers, lips, mouths.

Their touches have become a refuge in a broken world.

Their bodies pulled close, treasured as if the other's are a temple to worship at.