Angel (Destiel)

Chapter 11

We keep the car journey in tense silence. It's not an angry tension or an awkward tension; it's an impatient tension, a sexual tension. I have to concentrate hard on the road in order to keep my hands off Castiel. I shoot tiny glances at him every time I think he's not looking, but every time I do, he's looking. He stares at me, outright and uncaring, hungry and needing. It adds to the thick stench of want in the air. For once in my life, I want someone that I've wanted for a long time, that won't be gone when I wake up or vice versa, that isn't too drunk to remember me tomorrow. And that, is a miraculous thought.

I get out the car and grab Cas' hand protectively, and he sighs.
"I can make this quicker, Dean," He mutters. Suddenly there's no ground beneath my feet and I'm falling, but I still have Cas' hand. I can't describe a feeling like this; flying and falling. As soon as it had left, the ground is back under my feet, warm and soft, not brittle and cold like outside. Cas moves towards me and makes to kiss me, slowly, as if he's checking to see that I want to kiss him. I smirk again and press myself against him, pushing him backwards. We're in the kitchen and, as soon as his legs hit the countertop, I lift him up on to the counter, so that he's taller than me. I press myself further into him and he runs his hands down my sides and up my shirt. I groan at his cold touch and his hands patter across my stomach, over the middle of my chest and stop at my neck. Cas breaks the kiss, "Dean, may you take off your shirt? I shall take off my coat and tie," I nod and laugh, grappling at the back of my shirt and pulling it over my head.

Castiel doesn't need to sleep or breathe, and obviously, I use it to my advantage. We make out until early hours of the morning, in Cas' bed. Finally, I tell him we have to stop.
"Why? Did I do something wrong? What's wrong, Dean?" He asks, confused, pulling the beautiful face where his eyebrows tilt up in the middle and almost begin to meet, and his eyes bury into your face, and his forehead becomes heavily lined.
I laugh, "Nah, Cas. I'm tired. Ya see, us humans, we gotta sleep," Realisation and apology sets into his face.
"Ah, yes. I shall, um, watch over you," He says slowly. I giggle sleepily at him and, as my eyes are closing and I drift off to sleep, I swear I hear a quiet, "I like you a lot, Dean, good night," But, honestly, I can't be sure. I think of muttering it back but I'm so tired. My head hits the pillow, I fall asleep and dream happy dreams of Castiel.

"Cas," I say after a while of making out. We're sat in my car and he has one hand on my leg and the other slung over my shoulder. "I, um, really really like you. Maybe even love you," I take a deep breath; the kissing and anticipation has made me breathless. "I, er, dammitt! I'm bad at these chick flick moments but... Will you be my boyfriend?" I smile weakly and look into his eyes, searching for a sign.
He looks into me, into my soul and answers, "Of course, Dean. I'd be charmed," I grin and twist the keys in my car. Then, he's there. Out of nowhere, Castiel is in front of my car. Not the Castiel sat beside me, he's still there, but a fully-clothed Castiel.
"Dean, is this what you're dreaming about?" I'm so confused but Cas looks overjoyed; his eyes are smiling but he's attempting to keep a straight face.
"Cas?" I ask. Both Castiel's say my name until clothed Cas stares down the other.
"Angels can enter and watch dreams, Dean," He explains. I open my eyes wide. He chuckles softly, "Would you like to ask me that question in real life?"

I jump awake. Cas is stood beside my bed, laughing at me. I close my eyes as I roll on to my side and prize them open again to look at the time, and Castiel. 8:12 am. I reach for Cas, who is completely dressed - unlike myself (I'm wearing a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms) - and, when he grabs my hand, I pull him onto myself.
"Hey," I mumble, my eyes half closed. Cas rolls over me and lays beside me on the bed. Our hands seem to find each other and our fingers intertwine.
"Good morning, Dean," He smiles.
"So, how is rebelling from heaven?" I bite my bottom lip.
"Marvellous," He answers.