Broken wings || Destiel

Chapter 3

"Hello Dean." 

Dean turned around and saw the angel standing next to Sam's unmade bed, all sparkly eyes and ruffled hair, and his heart might have just skipped a few beats.

"You wanted to talk?" Cas raised an eyebrow and walked over to sit on the couch, and Dean could only wonder how he kept so calm and relaxed, as if this wasn't the most awkward situation ever, so instead of pondering over questions he would never find the right answers to, he sat on the other end of the small couch, putting as much space as he could between himself and Cas. Looking at the angel, he noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the wrinkle between his eyebrows that only appeared when he was overthinking something, the way his hair was slightly more unruly than usual, and he wanted to reach over and fix the strand that was falling across the angel's forehead, or maybe to run his finger over the wrinkle in hopes it would dissapear. But he stopped himself fast enough, trying to gather his thoughts so he could actually form words instead of just staring with his mouth hanging open.

"Uh, yeah, I- um, I wanted to talk about..." Dean gestured between them wildly, hoping Cas would help him out a bit and understand, but apparently there were no more miracles to go around that day.

He sighed and it took everything for him not to roll his eyes.

"I wanted to talk about the fact that we had tongues down eachother's throats for good five minutes last night and obviously you were drunk and not- like, yourself, so it's-"

"I would've done it anyway,"

"- not like it changes any- ...wait, what did you just say?"

Cas sighed and shook his head, hiding his face in his hands and took a few deep breaths before looking up at Dean with a mixture of fear and embarrassment filling his eyes, his cheeks flushed.

"I- I've been having these...dreams, I suppose. Eversince I fell, whenever I tried to sleep, my mind just starts producing all these strange scenarios of- of you... and me, doing... things," he took another deep breath, with eyes glued to the floor and cheeks painted dark red, before continuing, "And it was so- frustrating, and everytime I saw you it all came back and it felt so wrong, so I promised myself I would tell you, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it, so I thought maybe if I get drunk enough it will just...  go away, but, well, that didn't really work."

Dean knew he should say something, react somehow, but his mind was too busy creating images of Castiel tossing and turning in his bed, Dean's name falling from his lips, the angel subcinsciously rutting against the mattress and whimpering quietly, and suddenly the air in the room seemed way too thick and hot and Dean swore he never felt this close to passing out before the other man's voice cut through his foggy mind and finally made him come back to reality.

"I'm sorry... for everything, it was my fault," the angel mumbled, and his eyes looked glassy, his hands slightly shaking, and this time Dean didn't stop himself from moving closer to him and enveloping Cas' hands in his own before looking up, his eyes meeting the deep blue ones.

"It's... it wasn't wrong, I mean, it didn't feel wrong," Dean shakily said, and he had no idea where this was going because once again it seemed as if his mind went blank whenever he got close to the angel.

"You were interested in me," Cas said barely audibly, but it still made Dean raise one eyebrow, giving him a questioning look. 

"Biblically, I mean."

Dean just cocked his head, furrowing his brows in confusion before he finally understood what the angel was on about, and he choked on air and kind of wanted to dissapear immediately when he realized that they were actually having a serious conversation about the fact he got hard from making out like a hormonal teenager.

"It wasn't... I didn't- like, mean for it to happen or anything, okay?"

"But you liked it."

"I'm not saying I didn't," Dean smirked slightly, finally putting his thoughts together and relaxing a bit. He let his free hand lay on Cas' upper thigh while the other was still holding his trembling hands, and looked up at him as if asking if it was alright. The angel's eyes were stuck on the hand on his thigh, and when his eyes finally met Dean's, they were darker than before, and his mind was running in circles of Dean's smell, his touch, his hot breath suddenly dangerously close to his lips, and before he knew it there was a pair of soft lips covering his own.

He kissed back hesitantly and a whimper escaped his lips when Dean's hand moved closer to his crotch, teasingly slow. Dean nibbled on the other man's lower lip lightly, earning a soft moan which he used to let his tongue explore Cas' mouth slowly. It didn't take long before they both ran out of breath and their kiss turned into clashing teeth and hot tongues, both panting hard. Dean moved to Cas' jaw then, sucking and biting over the soft skin on his neck and then leaving little kitten licks over the red mark his teeth left there.

His hand was lazily working over the bulge in Cas' pants, and soon the angel turned into a whimpering mess, rutting against his hand and panting loud while Dean left a trail of open-mouthed kisses up his neck. Finally he decided there was enough teasing, and with a smirk playing on his lips he leaned close to the other man's ear and whispered,

"Let's take this to bed. Now."