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For the Rest of Mine

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When Dean woke a few hours later, it was fully dark outside, and the TV was still on and muted: Bruce Willis and Samuel L. Jackson in a helicopter. Die Hard with a Vengeance. Yippe-ki-yay, motherfucker.

Their positions had reversed while he'd slept. Dean was now curled up against Cas with an arm and a leg thrown over him, and his nose practically in the angel's armpit. Cas's fingers trailed over the skin of his arm and shoulder in hypnotic strokes, and that soft, gooey expression was back on his face – Dean didn't think he'd ever get used to it being directed his way, but he had to admit he kinda liked it.

"Hello, Dean."

A little girly-ass butterfly went nuts in Dean's belly at hearing that goddamn sexy gravelly morning voice wrapped around his name. "Hey, Cas. Feeling better?"

"Yes, Dean." Fucking butterflies. "My grace has fully recovered. Thank you for caring for me while I was incapacitated."

A smile pulled at the corner of Dean's mouth. "No big deal," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug.

Cas's brows drew together slightly. "Yes, big deal," he corrected him. "The care you show for others is one of the many reasons I love you."

Dean felt his cheeks heat, and he huffed air through his nose in private disagreement. He didn't find it particularly noteworthy or admirable to look out for the people you loved – that's just part of the job. What he did was nothing special.

Cas's hand came to rest on Dean's jaw, drawing his gaze up to meet his own. "I understand that you're uncomfortable verbalizing your feelings, so you express them through your actions. When you take care of me as you did, you're telling me I'm important to you. Is that not true?"

The flickering light from the television sapped the color from Cas's eyes, but not the intensity. He nodded mutely. Of course Cas was important to him.

"Then that's what I'm thanking you for. Not just for tending to my injuries, but for the reason you did so as well." A faint smile graced the angel's lips. "Knowing that you care for me makes me very happy, Dean."

"Oh," Dean responded dumbly. Words were hard. "Um. Good."

Even though his pupils were already wide in the dim room, Cas's eyes darkened more as he studied Dean's face, and his smile turned a little predatory. "And I wish to take care of you now. To express the depth of my feelings for you."

The butterflies were now trying to fight their way up and out, and Dean had to swallow them down. "Uhhh, okay?"

Cas leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips, then trailed tiny nuzzling kisses over his jaw and down his throat, speaking a few words between each one. "You're beautiful, Dean. So beautiful. Amazing."

"Cas..." Dean couldn't help but protest. Cas only said shit like that because he saw him through the lens of his love rather than how he truly was.

"You are, Dean. You're perfect, just as you are. You're loyal. Kind. Selfless. Fierce. A warrior."

Dean's eyes fluttered closed under the delicate assault. The things Cas said made him feel uncomfortable, self-conscious. But at the same time, Cas's lips on his skin felt so good, all he could think about was that. Paired together, the confusing, conflicting reactions melded together, and he couldn't differentiate cause from effect.

Cas's strong hands began roving, kneading into the flesh of his hip and thigh. "You're strong, Dean, yet you allow yourself to be vulnerable with me, which is...profound. And extremely arousing."

Arousing. Hell, yes, it was arousing. Everything about Cas was arousing. As Cas licked and nibbled his way over his throat, Dean got swept away in a strange sort of high. Cas's words, his praise for him – instead of discomfort or embarrassment, Dean only felt pleasure.

Gently shifting Dean to his back, Cas straddled his body without stopping the dizzying flurry of kisses and praise.

"Caaaas," Dean groaned. Rolling his head back into the pillow, he closed his eyes and let himself drown in the incredible sensations – the touches and kisses, the feeling of Cas's approval and acceptance, and most of all, his love.

Dean's cock, neglected in their prior go-around, thickened and throbbed urgently. He rocked his hips up against Cas, and the friction only drove his mindless bliss higher, giving a sharp edge to his need. But when Dean reached to pull him closer, Cas caught his wrists and pressed them back against the mattress.

"Impatient," Cas added pointedly to the ever-growing list of his qualities, though Dean was pretty sure it wasn't meant as praise. "There's no hurry, Dean. I intend to take my time with you."

Still holding Dean's wrists, Cas leaned close, trailing his tongue along the curve of his ear before closing his lips on his earlobe and suckling it. Dean squirmed ineffectively against Cas's hold.

"Be still," Cas admonished, and without thinking, Dean did as he was told.

Cas's hands traveled down from his wrists, caressing the lines of his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders. As his hands moved over his chest and down, his mouth followed, tongue tasting every curve and hollow on the way. Dean's breath came in quavering gasps. When Cas kept right on moving south, Dean's foggy brain finally registered what he was doing – where he was headed with that beautiful mouth.

"Oh, shit. Cas. Caaaas..." He cut off with an undignified squeak when the angel touched a tentative tongue to the head of his cock.

Cas mouthed gently along his shaft, the touch so light it was maddening. Then he increased the pressure, flattening his tongue and licking Dean's full length. Cas looked up at him with eyes gone dark with lust and lips slick with spit, demanding Dean's attention. This was even better than fantasy-Cas. Better than anything ever.

Cas nuzzled over his length, his lips grazing the sensitive skin. He ran his tongue over the tip, lapping up the beaded pre-come. Dean shuddered and his cock twitched in Cas's hand. At the slight movement, Cas gave a small smile and licked at it again.

Still meeting his eyes, Cas closed his mouth around Dean's aching dick. Throwing his head back with a ragged gasp, Dean lost track of everything but wet heat, suction, and the feverish need consuming him. "Oh, fuck, Cas!"

Cas sank down on Dean's cock until his nose was right up against the trimmed hair at the base, and his throat closed around the head. Dean bucked upward, but Cas's hands at his hips prevented him from inadvertently trying to fuck his mouth. Cas worked his dick over, experimenting with technique until Dean hovered right at the verge. Tension coiled inside him, and his balls tightened in anticipation...and then Cas pulled away.

Dean released a sobbing cry, denied the orgasm that was so close. "Cas, please!"

A teasing tongue ran along the underside of his aching shaft, clever fingers toyed with his sac. "I told you I would take my time," Cas murmured as he began massaging Dean's thighs. "Seeing you so lost in the pleasure that I bring you is extremely stimulating."

He crawled back up Dean's body to drop soft kisses on his lips. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Dean whimpered and squirmed. It all felt so good, but he needed – needed – more. "Please, Cas, I want- I want..."

Cas's lips burned as they brushed over the shell of his ear. "What do you want, Dean? You told me what you wanted before. Do you remember? I do."

Dean could only whine wordlessly – he didn't have two thoughts to rub together anymore.

Sucking at Dean's earlobe again, Cas hummed low in his chest. "You asked me to 'fuck you stupid' – to fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

Too late, Dean thought wildly.

A gentle hand held his chin, and his eyes flew open to find Cas's face hovering inches above his own, cast in flickering shadow in the uneven light from the television. "Do you want that, Dean?"

He whimpered and nodded faintly. "Yeah," he croaked, knowing Cas wanted an answer. "Yeah..."

Cas smiled, and it was beautiful.

"Dean," he rumbled. "I'll need your help. I need you to tell me exactly what to do."

Clarity settled over Dean's thoughts at that, not diminishing his pleasure, but definitely focusing his attention. As amazing as Cas was, he was still brand new to all this, and was relying on Dean to guide him.

Plus... Dean hadn't ever actually done this before, and suddenly the reality of exactly what Cas was proposing sank in. A shiver rippled over his skin as he thought about Cas bending him over the table and fucking him raw. His skin flushed and his cock oozed pre-come at the idea, but the truth was, he was as new to this as Cas. His few encounters with men had never involved fucking anything other than fists or mouths.

"Okay, right." He took a calming breath and nodded. "Prep. We need lube. Hang on..." he muttered, slithering out from under Cas and crawling half off the bed to reach his duffel bag on the floor. He snarled at it when the zipper hung up, then again when he couldn't find what he was looking for right away. He fished around until his fingers finally closed over a small, half empty bottle of lube.

Climbing back up, he pressed the bottle into Cas's palm. "Okay. Confession time. I've never done this part before, but I know the basics. At least in theory. But there'll be a certain amount of winging it."

Cas nodded seriously. "How do we begin?"

"With stretching and lots of lube." Dean paused, considering the options. He turned over and propped himself on his elbows and knees. It left him feeling very...exposed. "Just start with one finger and go slow. I'll let you know when I'm ready for more."

The flush in his face worsened when Cas didn't immediately reply. He felt vulnerable and embarrassed with his ass on display like this, and he desperately hoped Cas would hurry up and get on with it.

Dean flinched when Cas's hand came to rest on his hip.

"It's all right, Dean." The hand rubbed soothingly over the curve of Dean's ass. "You know I would never hurt you."

Releasing a slow breath, Dean tried to relax. Of course Cas would take care of him. And he wanted this. He did. A lot. But his nerves might kill him before it ever happened. "Okay."

The reassuring strokes on his skin paused, and Dean heard the lube bottle snap open. A moment later, the hand returned to his cheek, smoothing circles into his flesh. He struggled to keep calm but still jumped when a gentle finger traced along his crack. Cas murmured to him, quietly comforting him with low Enochian rumblings as the hand on his ass cheek continued kneading.

Eventually, Dean relaxed a little. As soon as he did, the finger narrowed its focus, rubbing gently over his hole without penetrating. The sensation on his rim felt shockingly good, if strange, and any new tension quickly bled away. Cas pressed and teased at him, generously spreading the lube over his puckered entrance.

The pressure increased, and finally, Cas's fingertip breached his rim. Dean gasped in a breath and fought to keep from tensing up again. Cas stroked and patted his hip soothingly.

"So beautiful, Dean," he murmured. "You're doing beautifully."

Cas's fingertip slid out, and the sounds of more lube told him why. Cas pressed back inside him, moving and wiggling a bit, urging his muscles to loosen. When he pushed his finger in deeper, Dean pressed his lips tightly together to prevent any noises escaping. He squeezed his eyes closed. The intrusion wasn't painful, but it was sort of uncomfortable, and it just felt weird as hell.

"Dean."

Dean's breath came in short, tight pants as the focus of his whole universe centered on that finger shoved up his ass. He became hyper aware of it and of every nerve in the area. A faint sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Dean." Cas's more urgent call brought him back to the room.

"Cas," he gasped, blinking his eyes open to focus on the wrinkles and rumples of the sheets beneath him.

"Are you all right? Do you want me to stop?" Concern sharpened Cas's voice.

For a second, Dean considered it. But he didn't want to chicken out now. Lots of people liked doing this – surely they weren't all crazy. "No, I'm okay. It's just...different. Give me a sec."

Cas waited, the fingers of his free hand still smoothing over Dean's hip. As he waited for his muscles to adjust, Dean turned his attention to the touch at his hip, letting the steady pressure calm him. After a bit, he felt much more at ease with the other, more intimate touch.

"I'm good. Go ahead and move, Cas. Just...lots of lube."

"Of course."

Cas started to move, sliding his finger gently in and out, working it around to spread the lube. Now that he was more used to it, Dean thought the friction inside him actually felt kind of good. Weird, but good.

After a while, there seemed to be less resistance to the movement of Cas's finger, so Dean said, "I think you can try adding a second one."

The single finger slid all the way out, and there came more lube sounds from behind him. Dean closed his eyes again and bit down on his lip, waiting for the new intrusion.

"Fuck," he gasped. Instead of fingers in his ass like he'd been expecting, there was a hand on his cock. He'd softened some when they'd started the prep – anxiety was balls for keeping an erection – but now Cas was palming him back to full, aching hardness.

"Be calm, Dean," Cas said softly. "Feel what I'm doing, but don't fear it. Relax."

Maybe Cas was using some kind of angel mojo, because Dean did relax. The smooth, hypnotic strokes on his dick felt fucking awesome, and he found he didn't mind at all when Cas gave him a second finger. The pressure increased, and he could feel his hole stretch around the probing, twisting fingers, and that felt pretty awesome, too.

Suddenly, a white burst of pleasure like he'd never felt before exploded through him. "Holy fuck! What was that?"

Cas nudged again, and fireworks flared behind Dean's eyes and all through the thinking parts of his brain. "That's your prostate. It's good?"

"Oh, fucking hell yes! Oh my god, don't stop," Dean groaned. "Jesus H., no wonder this is a thing." He'd had his own curious fingers up there a time or two, but he'd apparently never ventured far enough to discover the magical goddamn wonderland of his own prostate. Holy mother of shit.

The gentle stretching and teasing turned into more forceful thrusting, with Cas's fingers gliding over his prostate every other stroke or so. Dean found himself driving his hips back to meet him every time.

When a third finger joined the party, he scrunched his eyes shut and whined, "Oh, holy shit, Cas. Oh, shit."

And then Cas found his prostate again, and Dean cried out wordlessly. It felt so good, so fucking good.

"Be still, Dean. I don't want to hurt you," Cas urged.

But Dean was too lost in the blinding bliss. He writhed and moaned, rocking his hips back, trying to fuck himself deeper onto Cas's fingers. "Cas, please, please-"

All at once, a pressure came down over his body, and he couldn't understand why he couldn't move anymore, couldn't chase the high.

"Dean, I said be still."

Wings. Oh, god, Cas was restraining his squirming with his fucking glorious wings. Oh, hell that was hot, so fucking hot. God, he needed more, and right the fuck now. "Cas, please," he wheezed. "I'm ready, I'm so ready. Please, I need you to fuck me."

"Are you certain?" Cas slowed the movements of his hand, but didn't stop teasing his prostate.

Dean groaned and strained against the sleek, strong wings holding him down. "Fuck, Cas, please, yes!"

He whined his frustration when Cas didn't immediately fuck him. Instead, he drew his fingers out and released him, gently turning him over. Now sprawled on his back, Dean panted hoarsely and clutched at Cas, desperate for him to be closer, to touch him, to be in him. "Caaaas..."

"I want to see you." Cas put his hands on Dean's knees. "Your face tells so many stories, Dean. All the words of your heart are there for me to see. I want to see you when we join this first time."

"Yes," Dean nodded frantically. "Please, Cas. I need you."

Cas reached for the bottle of lube one more time and slicked his cock as Dean watched. A little thrill of apprehension shivered through Dean as he realized just how much larger Cas's dick was than his fingers.

"I won't hurt you, Dean. Trust me," Cas murmured, and the fear melted away.

He pushed Dean's legs up until he was nearly folded double, Cas's hands at the backs of his thighs. He moved closer, kneeling between his legs, and his slick, jutting erection slid alongside Dean's balls.

"Oh, fuck," Dean whispered.

With one hand, Cas guided his cock to press against Dean's wet hole with slow and careful pressure. Dean hissed when the head breached his entrance. Cas paused, but Dean grunted, "It's good, keep going, keep going."

With little rocking pushes, Cas pressed forward. "Deeean," he groaned. "So tight...hot. Feels so...so good."

Dean's breath came in desperate gasps as he felt himself spread open to take Cas's cock. Fuck, it was big. Not like, big-big, but definitely plenty big to be buried so deep in Dean's ass. God, he felt so full.

Once he was fully seated, Cas paused to let Dean adjust, for which he was hellaciously grateful, even though it was obvious from the quivering that Cas was struggling to wait for him. Before long, just like with the fingers, Dean got used to the sensation, and he was just left with the good feelings – the stretch, the fullness, the pressure on his rim.

"Okay," he breathed, giving Cas a nod.

Cas pulled out just a little, and Dean shuddered at the friction along his channel. When he pushed forward again, though, Dean couldn't help but cry out.

"Oh god, Cas!"

Slow and steady at first, Cas rocked into him, in and out and back again until all Dean could feel was that cock in his ass, moving, filling him up over and over and over. As Dean's throaty sounds got louder, Cas fucked him harder, faster.

"Dean- I can't-" Cas choked out.

But then, with his hands at the backs of Dean's thighs, Cas pushed his knees farther, tilting his hips up even more. The new angle put Cas's cock directly against Dean's magical fucking prostate with every thrust, dragging relentlessly over that freaking nuclear red button inside him.

"Oh, fuck! Cas, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

The cascading waves of pleasure that came with every stroke became almost painful, but he never wanted it to stop, not ever. Dean's mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he teetered wildly on the edge of orgasm. His eyes flew open to meet Cas's. His angel stared back with wide eyes glowing white and growing brighter.

"Dean!" The broken cry came as Cas's blazing eyes fluttered shut, his face crumpled, and his hips twitched and faltered in their rhythm.

Cas's cock pulsed against his rim, and warmth flooded him deep inside, and Dean fell howling over the edge with him – his fists knotting tightly into the sheets beneath him as his untouched dick sent powerful bursts of come spilling over his chest. Thanks to the upward cant of his hips, some of it dribbled down to pool at the base of his throat.

A second shuddering wave of pleasure overtook him when he felt Cas's cock give one final pulse inside him. And just when he thought he was done, another wave came, but this one was more of a lapping-gently-at-the-beach kind of wave rather than the previous tsunamis.

Cas stayed nestled inside him, breathing just as hard as Dean until he softened enough to slip out. He dropped back on his heels, releasing his hold on Dean's legs. Cas's eyes were half-lidded and his brow shone with sweat. He swayed a little, but managed to stay upright way better than Dean could've at this point.

Wrapping his legs tightly around Cas's waist, Dean released his death grip on the sheets and reached to pull Cas down on top of him, ignoring the come squishing between them. The weight of his body was comforting rather than constricting, and as awesome as it was getting fucked senseless by his angel, all Dean wanted right now was to hold him. God, he was getting to be such a girl, but he couldn't bring himself to be bothered by it.

Cas nuzzled his skin, still breathing like he'd run an Olympic sprint. "That was wonderful. Let's do it again soon," he mumbled, sounding on the verge of unconscious.

"Hell, yeah," Dean agreed blearily, though he wasn't sure how soon he'd be comfortable subjecting his ass to another round of that. Nothing hurt, but he definitely did feel sort of strange down there...but maybe that was just the come starting to leak from inside him. Ew. "Cas? Would you, um...?" he waved a hand, indicating the jizz covering him.

"Mmph," was Cas's only reply, but just like that, the come was gone. Dean wiggled a little, testing things out, and he was pretty sure the come in his ass was gone, too. Everything seemed less squishy, anyway.

Dean tightened his arms around Cas. "You know that was more than just wonderful, right?" God, first cuddling after, now talking? Ugh. "You're fucking amazing."

Cas raised his head and smiled softly before leaning in to give Dean a lingering kiss. Feeling warm and sleepy and awesome, Dean looked up into the face of the angel he... yes, loved.

"Hey, Cas? I, uh- I need to tell you something."

Cas's signature head tilt prodded him to continue.

The butterflies from earlier awoke in his belly. "It's just... I..." Freaking stupid butterflies. Why was this so hard to say?

"What is it, Dean? Are you all right?"

Dean frowned and looked away. "Yeah, no, it's not anything bad. I just wanted you to know..." He swallowed hard. "I...love you."

Only silence followed, and all the butterflies started trying to claw their way up his throat again. But when he looked back, Cas was beaming at him.

"Dean," he finally said. "I know."

Dean's eyebrows rose. "Did... Did you just Han Solo me?"

"I don't believe I understand your question," Cas replied with an enigmatic smile.

Shaking his head, Dean chuckled, "Never mind, Cas. Never mind."