Dear Addiction

Chapter twenty seven

His skin against Cas's. A mix of hot breaths, and low moans. Scattered kisses, small touches, his name parting the others lips. That was all Dean could think about the next morning, as he laid in Cas's bed, staring at the closet door across from him. The night before. Castiel's hands along his shoulders, along his back, his own hands across Castiel's body.

It wasn't rough like usual, or rushed. Instead slow, gentle, as if that night was the last they'd ever be together. With Dean's lips against the others any chance he got.

Broken breaths.

Sweaty skin.

Bites of the earlobe.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath from his mouth, nose too stuffed to breathe through. Of course he had the lingering thought, where did this put them. Were they still friends, or more; they had to more. Just friends don't do that, they don't have nights like that.

As a shuffling came from his left, Dean slowly turned, eyes landing on Cas who'd sat up.

The other man's hair was in a mess. Eyes half closed as he rubbed at them, pale skin now contrasted with hickeys. He looked small without a shirt covering him. The skin around his collarbones seeming stretched.

Dean's eyes stayed there, studying the pink hockey's that had begun to fade into a light purple.

"Morning," Dean finally hummened. He sat up himself, letting the blanket fall from his chest and to his waist.

Cas didn't turn at first, his eyes staying on his lap. Even his colourless cheeks seemed more pale than usual, void of anything. "Dean," Cas replied finally turning to meet Dean's eyes

His blue eyes were wide, causing Dean's calm heart to pick up pace. Would it have been better if he'd just left. Like he usually did. "Cas."

Dean shifted slightly. He could feel the silence that hung between them, a kind that caused his heart to race further. Eyes glancing across the others' faces. He hadn't regretted anything when he'd originally awoken but now, looking at Castiel, the smallest pain came. Regret and maybe guilt growing heavier in his stomach with each passing second.

"Cas?" Dean repeated, when the other hadn't said anything. He wasn't even sure if Castiel was even breathing.

"Last night, we-"

"Yah."

Cas didn't reply, eyes never looking towards Dean. "I ch- I," before he could continue his hand was covering his mouth, and the covers were being thrown off.

"Cas!" Dean cried, watching as the other ran out of the bedroom.

Dean pushed the covers of himself, pulling on his boxers and jeans before he ran after Cas. Out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the bathroom, where he found Cas crouched over the toilet. The sound of gagging immediately filled his ears, though thankfully snorting the cocaine had caused his nose to be too stuffed to smell anything.

Slowly he walked in, eyes staying on Cas's bare back. His skin wasn't pale, but colourless, spine easily visible. Dean grabbed a hanging robe, and draped it across Cas's slim shoulders as he took a seat next to him.

Dean didn't hesitate to bring his hand to Castiel's back, slowly running his hand up and down, in what he hoped was a soothing way. Even when Cas no longer was throwing up and instead had his head rested to the toilet's rim, Dean didn't stop.

"You know." Dean began, eyes lingering on Castiel's face. The other's eyes were still shut, a crease formed between his eyebrows, as he scrunched his face slightly. "I really thought I was going' to be the one thrown' up."