SUPERNATURAL SMUT

Beneath A Moonless Sky

Title: Beneath A Moonless Sky
Author: HigherMagic
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: Um...S5/S6x03 ish?
Summary: Dean can't leave this life behind without experiencing the alternative, just once.
Notes/Warnings:Okay...Um...*doesn't have an excuse* I was listening to 'Beneath the Moonless Sky' from 'Love Never Dies' (Phantom 2) and thought 'OMG IT'S DEAN/CAS' and, yeah, my brain is an idiot. Shameless sacrilege and butchering of two fandoms simultaneously. Kind of Wussy!Dean? Sex?

Castiel is in bold. Dean is in italics. Aloud dialogue in quotes.

Enjoy!

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You came and found where I hid,
don't you deny that you did
that long ago night.

His breathing mists heavily in the cold, dark night, and he runs, panting, searching around. He can't see a thing but he can feel eyes on him, and he's running, towards the caves. The caves, where he is, and his body's shaking, sweating from exhaustion and exertion and anticipation, his hands are shaking and it's not just from the cold.

That night.

The caves on the side of the mountain range are cold and unwelcoming. Nothing lives here so far as Dean can tell, in so far as he's ever been here to see them, but the air feels alive, brushing against his skin like a caress he craves, and he bends his fingers bloody against the hard stone as he climbs. Sweat sticks his clothes to his skin, baring it, darkening the colors of black and green and blue, and he's climbing as fast as he can in the non-light of the moonless sky.

Once there was a night
beneath a moonless sky,
too dark to see a thing
too dark to even try.

I stole to your side,
to tell you I must go.

He can't let it end like this, to leave and never come back, to never know what could have been, what might have been. He has to try but he's afraid - his heart is beating out of his chest, making a home for itself in his throat and he's scared - he's allowed to be scared, just this once. There's no light to reflect in his eyes but he can hear him. Close.

I couldn't see your face,
but sensed you even so.

He's not a ghost. He makes noise, and Dean can hear his breathing. The soft non-light silhouettes Dean against the cliff face when he stands and greets the gaping maw of the largest cave pock-marking the side of the mountain, and his body is aware. Sensing the Angel - his Angel - nearby, something others fear and loathe, that he trembles in the face of greeting again, but he knows.

And I touched you.
And I felt you.

Dean doesn't fight back when he feels a warm body slide up behind his own, and a hand goes across his chest, thumb digging into the side of his face and pushing him away from another's, another's lips that find his bared pulse and kiss there, another's body that presses against him as though he's being welcomed home, and another hand goes under his arm, joins the first above his heart, and he's being held and he doesn't fight, can't fight, is a slave to his Angel once again, as he always was, entranced and taken over by the rhythm and beautiful music dancing in the air.

And I heard those ravishing refrains.
The music of your pulse.
The singing in your veins.

His body is alight, his eyes falling closed, letting the other touch him, caress him with gentle hands, lips brushing down and along his neck and then up under his ear, lets the hand around his chin drag lower down, nails digging just slightly, and lets the hand settle around his throat, so trusting, so willing, and his body arches into it, trusts his Angel not to hurt him, to love him as he claimed he did so often, so vehemently. The pounding in his head loses its fear and takes on a new kind of urgency, one that only awakens when he's around this other.