tracy_loo_who | help_haiti Fic #2: Pretty Angel (2/2)

Continued from part 1.

The time has come for this game to end, just as Michael knew it would, but he figures he doesn't have to kill Castiel just yet. For the next few days, Michael simply studies and contemplates his brother. He's morbidly fascinated by how human Castiel's pain is and wonders if all that humanity is rooted in Castiel himself or in the human memories Michael gave him.

Castiel checks to see if Dean's booked him even more frequently and obsessively than before, but of course Dean hasn't, so Castiel's days pass in stressful misery with not even a bright spot among them.

He keeps taking out his phone and scrolling to Dean's name, but he only ever stares at it, never dials. They've never actually spoken on the phone before; Dean always called the brothel and Castiel isn't supposed to contact clients directly. It probably makes him nervous, Michael thinks. Another human trait.

Sometimes Castiel rehearses apologies under his breath, things like, I really didn't mean it that way, I just want us to get it right if we try, or I know you were only trying to help but I'm afraid of being so dependent on you. In the end, Castiel doesn't say any of it to Dean.

Meanwhile, Dean has bigger problems on his plate in the form of some demons who've found him getting trashed at a bar and want to take advantage of his memory loss to corner and kill him. The four of them drag him out to an alley where they toy with him and beat him mercilessly, and Dean is defenseless because they're so much stronger than he is and he doesn't know how to fight them.

Michael is so caught up in watching Castiel that he's almost too late to save Dean. By the time he descends upon the demons and burns them out of existence, Dean is an unconscious, bloody mess on the ground. Michael heals his injuries but leaves him unconscious for someone else to find and take him to the hospital in order to avoid Dean's questions. He makes sure someone calls Sam because he doesn't trust anyone else to take good enough care of Dean.

Sam flies out from California, but it doesn't wake Dean up from the coma he's slipped into. All day, Sam sits by his bed and talks or reads to him because the doctors tell him it might help, and at night, he retires to Dean's apartment to sleep there with instructions for the nurses to call him immediately if there's a change in Dean's condition. It becomes Sam's daily routine, though after the first couple of days he has to start bringing work to the hospital so he won't fall too far behind.

Dean is cared for to the best of Sam and the hospital staff's ability, but no one remembers to keep his phone charged, so when Castiel finally gets up the courage to call him a week after they last saw each other, it goes straight to voicemail. Castiel chews on his lower lip while he listens to Dean's voice asking him to leave a message, but in the end, he doesn't.

Instead, he decides to stop by Dean's apartment early the next morning after he slips away from a client. It's a Saturday, so he thinks Dean should be home.

Michael supposes it's destiny at work when Castiel arrives at Dean's door just in time to nearly bump into Sam letting himself out on his way to the hospital.

Perhaps gutted might be an appropriate human word to describe the expression on Castiel's face, Michael thinks, but then he looks harder and decides it's not even close. He also sees bitter jealousy and abject defeat, and Sam sees them too.

"You okay, man?" he asks with some concern.

Castiel backs away, his expression hardening. "Fine," he bites out.

Sam tries again. "Are you a friend of Dean's?"

For a moment Castiel's eyes are drawn to Dean's closed door, but then he gives Sam a defiant look and says coldly, "No, I'm not."

He doesn't stay to say more, and Sam watches his retreating figure with a small frown.

***

Castiel stops checking obsessively for Dean's name in his schedule, though Michael can tell it doesn't stop him from thinking obsessively about Dean and alternating between missing him and hating him. It all seems very messy and contradictory.

What's particularly interesting is how Castiel's feelings evolve with time, which should be such an inconsequential thing for angels. In just two weeks, most of Castiel's jealous hurt becomes cold anger, and Michael wonders if maybe this is easier to bear.

He also wonders if it would be more merciful to just put Castiel out of his misery now.

Then Dean wakes up.

Sam is ecstatic in his relief and nearly smothers him on the spot, which Dean points out gruffly. But his eyes are alight with joy at seeing his brother and he puts off even his confusion over what happened in favor of indulging Sam and letting him fuss. They're going to be difficult to separate, Michael thinks.

Eventually they do talk about what happened, but there isn't too much to say because Dean's memories are hazy on account of his head injury and having been drunk at the time, and Sam has nothing to add since the demons didn't steal anything and the police never found them.

Except then he remembers Castiel. "There was this dude who came to your apartment one morning," he says slowly. "He didn't look like he was there to hurt you but I dunno, man, he was acting a little weird."

Dean's gaze sharpens immediately. "About my size, brown hair, bluest eyes you've ever friggin' seen?"

"Yeah, I think so. You know him?"

"Cas," Dean says softly, almost to himself. At Sam's questioning look, he shakes his head. "Long story. Did he say anything?"

"Not really," Sam replies with a shrug. "He seemed really surprised and upset to see me, and he said 'no' when I asked him if he was your friend. Then he pretty much just ran off."

Michael can see Dean putting the pieces together in his head, and then he groans faintly. "Cas, you idiot."

Sam arches his eyebrows. "Care to enlighten me?"

"He thought you were a whore," Dean informs him with a smirk.

Sam gives him a look that Michael thinks Dean refers to as the bitchface. "Not funny, Dean."

"It's a little bit funny," Dean insists teasingly. "But it's also true." He spends the next ten minutes telling Sam about Castiel, only pausing when Sam makes noises of disgust and reminds Dean he doesn't need details.

After Dean finishes recounting their fight and Sam realizes Castiel must have thought Dean had moved on to someone else, there's a moment of silence. Then he asks, "You really like this guy?"

Dean's lips twist in distaste but he doesn't deny it, and that's all Sam needs to know. "You should call him, then."

"I don't want to," Dean says, sounding more petulant than like he actually means it.

"Aren't you supposed to be looking at life differently and forgiving small transgressions now that you've had a near-death experience or something?" Sam asks with mild amusement.

"Maybe, but he's an ungrateful dick," Dean complains halfheartedly.

Sam snorts. "You sure know how to pick 'em. Seriously, Dean, only you would go bi and immediately fall for a rentboy."

"Hey, he's an alright dude," Dean protests.

"Thought you said he was an ungrateful dick." Sam sounds smug.

Dean scowls. "He is. But he's also alright."

"I'll take your word for it."

"Plus, he gives amazing head," Dean adds brightly.

Sam groans. "I am not talking to you ever again."

***

Dean is released from the hospital the next day, and Sam gets on a flight back to California that night. He's already missed two weeks of work so he can't afford to stay longer, but he promises to visit again soon.

After Dean gets everything sorted out with his own job, he brings up the brothel's number on his phone and stares at it for a while. It's a strange mirror of Castiel doing the same thing a few weeks ago, and Michael knows he's going to do it.

Which means he has to find and destroy Castiel now, before Dean and Castiel can fix their relationship. It's what destiny has decreed, after all, because Castiel keeps helping Dean evade it. And Michael will end him for that.

He will, except, he doesn't really want to. So he simply... chooses not to.

And that's when Michael realizes he chooses.

He chooses, and Dean says into the phone, "Is Castiel free tonight?"

***

When Castiel is told where he has to go for the night, his heart leaps. Immediately after that, he's furious. He also seems a bit terrified as he takes the familiar route to Dean's apartment. Of course, this makes him even more furious.

By the time he actually gets to Dean's place and Dean opens the door, Castiel's emotions are all over the place.

"Cas," Dean says evenly, and that's all he gets out before Castiel barrels into him and attacks his mouth.

"Why?" he hisses in between fighting Dean's tongue.

Dean pulls away to pant, "Let me explain--"

But Castiel has changed his mind about wanting to know. He doesn't give Dean a chance to explain at all before he's ravaging Dean's mouth again and tearing both of their clothes off and manhandling Dean in the direction of the bedroom.

Dean seems slightly dazed from the onslaught and puts up little resistance. He sits down on the bed when Castiel shoves him and he gasps when Castiel climbs onto his lap and bites his neck, hard enough to bruise. But Castiel doesn't stop there. He leaves a string of bite marks down the side of Dean's neck, along his collarbone, and across his chest, and he doesn't ease up until he's got Dean's nipple in his mouth. Dean moans slightly as Castiel sucks on his nipple, hard, and his hands run frantically up and down Castiel's naked body, feeling and clutching.

He's already incredibly hard, and Castiel breaks free for just long enough to find a condom to roll onto him. Without further warning, Castiel is back in his lap and sitting down on him, taking all of him in roughly and unceremoniously.

"God, Cas," Dean chokes out, and then Castiel is bruising his lips with his own while his fingers dig into the handprint on Dean's arm.

Dean shudders and groans helplessly beneath him, and that's all he can do for a while as Castiel rides him, brutally and punishingly, though Michael isn't sure who he's trying to punish. It's almost like he can't get through this unless it hurts, but it's also violently possessive, in the way that his hand is still clamped over the handprint mark and the way that he's still biting and sucking new marks into Dean's skin wherever he can.

And still, Dean lets him. He lets him until Castiel wrenches an orgasm from his body that has Dean muffling a shout in Castiel's neck and digging his fingernails into Castiel's back. Dean clings to Castiel's body while he comes inside him and then Castiel finally lets go of his arm to grab his own cock and stroke it, hard and fast.

"Cas," Dean says hoarsely, tilting his face up to rest his forehead against Castiel's. He doesn't let go, so Castiel jerks himself off and comes in Dean's arms, and it's not quite harsh enough to stop him from gasping Dean's name and melting against him.

Both of them hold still and quiet for a couple of minutes except for their panting, until Dean says softly, "Don't be mad at me."

His voice jerks Castiel out of the moment and he pulls away to glare at a spot beside Dean's head, though he doesn't get off of Dean yet. "I don't have the right to be mad at you," he says coldly.

"You have the right to feel whatever you feel," Dean says with an impatient roll of his eyes. "But dude, it's not on to be mad at a guy who's been comatose for the past few weeks."

Castiel is thrown completely, and several different complicated expressions flit across his face as his gaze snaps to Dean's. He looks lost and confused, and he sounds that way too when he says, "What?"

"Yeah, got beat up pretty badly," Dean tells him ruefully. "Been out cold for three weeks."

"By who?" Castiel demands, though this time his anger doesn't seem to be directed at Dean.

Dean shrugs. "Dunno, never met them in my life and then the cops didn't catch them."

Castiel shakes his head in confusion. "But I saw..."

"Big sasquatch of a dude, right?" Dean asks with a quirk of his lips. When Castiel's eyes narrow, he explains, "Sam flew out and stayed here in between visiting the hospital."

"Your brother?" Michael almost finds it entertaining, how wide Castiel's eyes get. Dean nods, and Castiel looks away in embarrassment. "I thought..."

"I know what you thought," Dean says with gentle amusement. "And if you ever meet Sam again, he'll make fun of you for it forever."

Castiel's lips twitch reluctantly, and then suddenly he's looking at Dean in concern. "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?"

Dean snorts and teases, "Even if you'd ridden me to death, I could think of worse ways to go."

"I'm sorry about what I said," Castiel says after a moment, hesitantly.

"Yeah, well." Dean shrugs. "I wasn't trying to pretend anything, but you probably had a point. Well-adjusted people don't regularly pay for sex."

Castiel looks down and bites his lip. "So what are you going to do now?"

"Become better adjusted?" Dean suggests wryly. "I dunno, haven't thought past clearing things up with you. But we should probably not keep doing this if neither of us are going to get what we want out of it." Castiel looks just a bit crushed, so Dean adds, "Which is not to say you can't call or come hang out when you have some spare time. We're..." He pauses before saying carefully, "friends, right?"

It brings a shy smile to Castiel's face, and he kisses Dean chastely on the lips. "I'd like that," he says quietly.

"Good," Dean says. "Now, friends don't come all over friends' stomachs and then not even clean them up afterward."

Castiel huffs in amusement and finally gets off of Dean to throw out his condom and find a towel to wipe him down with. Then they settle into bed because Dean is worn out and has doctor's orders to get a lot of rest, and they talk for a while about things that Michael deems inane before Dean drifts off.

That night is the first one Castiel doesn't spend in lonely misery in over three weeks, and Michael doesn't regret his decision.

***

Dean sticks to his resolve and doesn't book Castiel again, and Castiel becomes antsy. He becomes particularly antsy when they talk on the phone and Dean tells him he's going out to a bar. Of course he never actually asks Dean if he brings anyone home with him, but Michael knows the thought eats at Castiel.

Which is part of the reason why, after two weeks of vicious internal debates with himself, Castiel shows up at Dean's apartment and blurts, "Can I borrow some money?"

Dean merely lifts his eyebrows and waits for him to elaborate.

"Home Depot is hiring," Castiel says quickly, like he's embarrassed to be asking for money. "I applied and they'll give me a job if I can work six days a week. It doesn't pay a lot, but it's more than enough to cover a little studio apartment just outside the city and groceries and subway fares. I just--" He stops and takes a deep breath. "I just need some help digging myself out of this hole. But I swear I'll pay you back."

In the silence that follows, Dean studies him thoughtfully and Castiel waits for his answer so nervously he's practically trembling.

"Alright," Dean says eventually, with a small smile. "Of course you can borrow some money."

"Really?" Castiel sounds a bit breathless.

"Sure, just as long as you don't donate it to whatever church it is that keeps sending me fliers about how I should repent because the apocalypse is looming."

Castiel smiles and promises, "No churches. But what if the apocalypse really is looming?"

"Then I'd rather get drunk and have lots of sex than repent," Dean says firmly.

"Would you, uh." Castiel glances down at his shoes very briefly before asking very, very seriously, "Would you like to do that with me after I get my own place?"

"Have drinks?"

"And sex," Castiel clarifies.

Dean grins. "Are you asking me out, Cas?"

"Yes." Castiel's ears turn slightly pink.

"I'd love to," Dean replies, to a rather glowing look from Castiel. But then he asks plaintively, "Do we really have to wait until after you get your own place?"

"Not for the sex, no," Castiel says in a rush as he steps into Dean's personal space like he's been waiting for the welcome.

They kiss with their arms wrapped around each other and they touch like they're discovering each other for the first time and yet far more intimately than that. Michael can feel their quiet joy soak through himself and he knows it's time to end this hoax that failed so miserably yet feels so rewarding, but he decides to let them have this one last thing. He relishes the act of deciding. So Dean and Castiel get to take their time with each other, and for a while they're content like that, just kissing and feeling each other's skin.

"We'll figure it out," Dean promises quietly in between kisses, and Castiel nods and presses even closer, seeking more, so that they're chest to chest and all the hard places on his body are digging into Dean's.

Then he rubs his entire front against Dean's and that's when they decide they need to lose their clothes immediately.

It's a messy affair and Dean's shirt gets tangled around his arms as he's pulling it off. Castiel takes advantage of the moment to back Dean up against a wall and pin his wrists over his head, and then he grinds the bulge in his jeans against the bulge in Dean's jeans and makes them both gasp.

"You wanna fuck me?" Dean asks, voice pitched low and rough.

Castiel makes a small noise in his throat but then pulls away just far enough to say uncertainly, "I've never..."

"Seriously?" Dean stares, and then shrugs. "Okay, well, me either."

Apparently encouraged, Castiel thrusts against Dean like he can't help it and Dean tries to wrap his legs around Castiel's waist even as he pants, "We should probably try to make it over to the bed at some point."

"We should," Castiel agrees, gripping Dean's thighs and supporting his weight against the wall. Dean's arms fall around Castiel's neck and he bucks between him and the wall while Castiel keeps thrusting up against him. It's a while before they actually manage to part for long enough to stumble into the bedroom.

Castiel kicks his jeans off on the way, and when they do finally get there, Dean goes down between the sheets with Castiel covering his body and mouth. They both work to push down Dean's jeans, until he's naked and using all four limbs to pull Castiel on top of him.

Another little while passes before Castiel finally stops kissing him and rolls to the side to start squeezing lube onto his fingers, and Dean seems to come back to his senses during the break. He even starts looking a little nervous as he watches Castiel work, and Castiel hesitates. "We don't have to, Dean."

But Dean shakes his head and simply drags the sheets over them both, right up to their chins, so that he can't see anything that's going on below their necks. "Just go for it."

So Castiel has to move by feel beneath the sheets, and he gets some lube on Dean's hip in the process, but he still figures it out quickly. It's not long before he pushes a fingertip into Dean and Dean curls his body into Castiel's so that they're both on their sides, facing each other, with Castiel's wrist caught between his thighs.

"This okay?" Castiel murmurs.

Dean keeps his gaze fixed firmly on Castiel's face and nods, so Castiel pulls his finger out and pushes back in again, deeper this time. He prepares Dean far more carefully and thoroughly than he generally prepares himself, and when he crooks his finger to introduce Dean to the reason men enjoy being fucked so much, Dean sucks in a sharp breath and squirms for more. Castiel rubs his prostate obligingly, which only makes Dean squirm even more and grab on to his waist.

"Fuck," Dean breathes, and starts fumbling around Castiel's body for the bottle of lube. After he finds it, he immediately pours some into his hand and wraps that hand around Castiel's cock. Their arms bump into each other at first, but they shift to make room.

Then they're both squirming between the sheets as Castiel finger fucks Dean and Dean strokes Castiel, and Castiel pants, "Don't even have a condom yet."

Dean doesn't stop stroking him. "Are you clean?" Castiel can only let out a low moan when Dean squeezes, but he manages to nod his head. "So am I," Dean whispers, and brings his free hand out from under the covers to cup Castiel's jaw while he kisses him, open mouthed and hungrily.

He turns over and presses back into Castiel's crotch when he's ready, and the sheets get tangled even more tightly around their bodies, but they don't need to see what they're doing when they can feel their skin sliding together everywhere. Castiel props himself up on one elbow, rolls on top of Dean, and wraps an arm around him as he thrusts lightly in his crack once, twice.

On the third thrust, Castiel changes his angle and sinks into Dean. Dean sucks in a sharp breath between his teeth but spreads his legs wider and lifts his hips a little to ease Castiel's entrance, so Castiel doesn't stop until he's all the way in. Then they both lie there for a few moments, breathless and still, until Castiel leans over to whisper in Dean's ear, "I've wanted this for so long." His voice grateful and almost reverent, and it hitches when Dean clenches around him.

"Come on then, fuck me already," Dean demands. Castiel complies, starting with short, probing thrusts until he finds the spot that makes Dean arch his back and gasp, "Cas."

Eager to please as always, Castiel keeps that angle and rocks into Dean's prostate, drawing needy groans from him. "Good?" Castiel pants above him.

Dean nods frantically. "So fucking good."

After that, Castiel speeds up and thrusts harder, bearing down on Dean and hips driving Dean's into the mattress over and over again. Dean can't seem to do much but writhe for a while, until he finds Castiel's rhythm himself and matches it in his own thrusts into the sheets bunched around his cock. So Castiel humps Dean and Dean humps the bed, and it all seems quite crude to Michael, but both of them are clearly enjoying themselves immensely.

Castiel seems surprised when Dean starts coming beneath him, but it's pleasant surprise. He slows down and clutches Dean even closer and kisses a possessive line up his neck while Dean finishes coming, shudderingly, into the sheets.

"Dean." It's Castiel who sounds wrecked, as he pulls out of Dean and rolls him onto his back. Then he pitches forward blindly, like it hurts him physically to not be inside Dean, and Dean draws his knees up so that Castiel can fit himself between his legs and thrust into him again. Castiel lets out a loud breath of sheer relief and delight when he's all the way in again, and Dean strokes his sides languidly.

After that, Castiel loses whatever last shred of restraint he had and fucks Dean wantonly and desperately. He also loses his rhythm and finesse and is driven by only instinctual, carnal need, and Dean seems happy to let Castiel use his body. He encourages Castiel with short kisses and affectionate touches, trailing his fingers all over Castiel's damp, heated skin, and Castiel looks to be in utter bliss.

The pleasure unravels Castiel, and Michael also lets it unravel the veil he cast around Castiel's grace and awaken him. It's finally time, he thinks, so as Castiel's orgasm builds, so too does the power stirring inside him. It's coiled dangerously and thrumming through him and threatening to snap, and Castiel comes so close to breaking free from the spell that the ground trembles faintly beneath them.

Dean glances around in mild alarm and licks his lips. "Cas?" But Castiel is too far gone to reply, too caught up in his single-minded hurtle toward completion, and Dean doesn't try to stop him.

When Castiel comes, his grace erupts and his wings snap free to arch above their bodies. Dean can see their shadows blooming across the ceiling in flashes of harsh light, Michael knows, and there's both awe and terror in his eyes as they dart from one corner of the ceiling to another. He swears and brings a hand up to shield his eyes even though he can't look away, and he tries futilely to press himself into the mattress as far away from Castiel as possible. Michael thinks he's not nearly awed or terrified enough. Castiel is a thousand times more magnificent than Dean knows, and now, with his powers back, a thousand times more dangerous. But he also has his memories back, and Castiel's eyes are wide as he gasps, "Dean." He grabs Dean's forearm, and Dean flinches like he expects it to hurt.

Before he can figure out how to react further, Castiel presses two fingers to his forehead and restores his memories as well.

Dean blinks four times, rapidly, in the moment that follows. "What the fuck."

"I believe this was an archangel's doing," Castiel says uncertainly. He's still breathless and seems slightly dazed.

"You think an archangel wanted us to--" Dean breaks off and suddenly looks down at their bodies before saying in a tight, strained voice, "Get out of me, Cas."

Castiel rushes to comply and it's almost amusing to Michael, how much effort Dean puts into not looking at his nakedness as Castiel stands there by the bed.

"This is the most awkward moment of my life," Dean announces after a moment, pulling the sheets up around himself.

Even Castiel looks awkward. "Should I go?"

"Yes," Dean agrees emphatically. "Yes, you should definitely go."

Castiel goes, and Dean is left to stare around the room while he tries to process everything. Eventually he says to no one in particular, as far as Michael can tell, "Fuck my life."

***

Michael isn't sure why he's still watching them, a week later, but he finds Dean and Castiel strangely fascinating.

Not that they're doing much. Castiel seems adamant about following Dean around and trying to talk to him whenever he can but Dean seems equally adamant about pretending nothing happened. Sam just seems adamant about teasing Dean and Castiel about all the "big gay sex" they had.

Dean's unwillingness to talk about what happened clearly frustrates Castiel, so it's Sam who eventually pulls Castiel aside in a library and asks him if he's okay.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Castiel inquires with a tilt of his head.

Sam shrugs. "From what Dean told me at the hospital, you weren't exactly living in the lap of luxury out there."

Castiel casts his eyes down and then to the side with a sigh. "I only regret defiling Jimmy's body in that manner. Dean's as well."

"Dean's?" Sam snorts. "If you knew half the things Dean's done with his body, you wouldn't feel guilty."

"He wanted to do those things."

"I can't believe I'm gonna say this to an angel, but he wanted to do you too," Sam points out wryly.

"He was manipulated," Castiel insists.

But Sam counters, "He was happy." Castiel gives him an almost startled look, and Sam continues, "Sure, he was pissed at you at the time, and regularly paying for sex isn't in every recipe for happiness, but I think he was, in his own way. He liked you."

"Angels can make him like salad too," Castiel says.

"He still looks at you when he thinks you aren't looking." It's not so different from the way Sam is currently staring intently at Castiel, Michael thinks.

Castiel is the first to break their gaze. His eyes sweep over the shelf of books they're standing next to. "Are you trying to encourage me to court your brother, Sam?" he asks eventually.

Sam makes a face. "You don't have to word it like that."

"He has taken to avoiding me whenever possible."

"You're an angel of the Lord," Sam says with a shrug. Then he claps Castiel on the back and walks away, calling over his shoulder, "Make it impossible."

Castiel stares after him thoughtfully for a few moments before he disappears.

***

Castiel's idea of making it impossible for Dean to avoid him involves cornering him in a bathroom, apparently. Michael despairs at his brothers sometimes, and this is one of those times.

Dean is alone in the bathroom before he takes his shirt off for a shower, but after he gets done pulling it over his head, Castiel is standing right in front of him, between him and the shower. It causes him to yelp and glare. "What the hell, Cas?"

"I would like to talk," Castiel informs him.

"Yeah?" Dean asks snidely. "Well, I wouldn't like to talk."

"Dean--"

"There's nothing to talk about!" he protests defensively.

Castiel doesn't let him get away with it this time. "On the contrary, there is plenty to talk about."

"None of it was real."

"What I feel is real," Castiel replies evenly.

For a moment Dean just gapes at him. "Are you serious, dude? You want to talk about your feelings? No thanks, save it for Sam, I'm busy." He tries to push past Castiel to get to the shower. But Castiel holds his ground, so Dean winds up with his hand flat against Castiel's chest and his face inches from Castiel's.

"You are the reason I feel anything at all," Castiel reminds him, voice dangerously soft.

A look of guilt flashes across Dean's face, but then he turns around and tries to go the other way, out of the bathroom. Castiel catches his wrist and doesn't let go even when Dean tries to tug free of his grip.

"Let me go," Dean growls, eyes narrowing.

They glare at each other, silent and challengingly, but a heartbeat later, Castiel sighs and lets him go. This time, Castiel looks so annoyed and dejected that Dean's guilt lasts longer than a second.

To Michael's surprise, he stays and asks helplessly, "What do you want from me, Cas?"

Castiel also seems surprised. "I want to help you."

"Well, you can't," is Dean's automatic response.

"You won't even let me try," Castiel points out.

"Look," Dean begins impatiently, "it's not your job to--"

"I don't have a job anymore," Castiel says, and the dangerous edge is back in his voice. "But I'm still an angel, and the only one likely to answer your prayer for help."

Dean immediately looks embarrassed. "You heard that?"

"Did you not want me to?" Castiel asks with a tilt of his head.

"I don't know," Dean replies with some frustration. "I don't know what I want, okay? Apparently I don't want anything, according to Famine."

Castiel's next words are gentler. "You obviously want help." When Dean doesn't reply, he goes on, "I think you want a lot of things, Dean. But you want things you can't have, like your parents and lost friends and a world free from threat; things that can't be manifested under Famine's influence."

"So you're saying I'm screwed, right? Gee, thanks, that helped a lot," Dean says, though without bite. Michael thinks he just sounds tired.

"I'm saying you're capable of wanting," Castiel replies pointedly. "And if you should ever come to want something I can give you, then you can have it."

"Cas," Dean begins, and that note of helplessness is back. "It's not that simple."

"It is," Castiel insists. "Do you want me to stay?"

"What? We're in a bathroom--"

"Stop deflecting," Castiel orders, and Dean shuts his mouth abruptly. "Right now. Do you want me to stay?"

There's a heavy moment of silence, and Michael waits almost as intently as Castiel does for Dean's reply. When it finally comes -- when Dean finally breaks -- it's hoarse and quiet but it's a "Yes."

Castiel relaxes, while Dean watches him anxiously, like he half expects Castiel to disappear on him now that he's admitted to wanting him to stay. Castiel doesn't, of course. They're already standing very close to each other, but Castiel takes that last step between them and presses his lips to Dean's forehead. "Then I'll stay," he says softly.

He also slides his arms around Dean, though his embrace is loose until Dean eventually stops standing there just letting it happen and starts hugging him back, carefully at first but then fiercely and with his face buried in Castiel's neck. It's more clinging than hugging, Michael thinks, and Dean uses a crushing amount of force, but Castiel welcomes it and tightens his own hold around Dean, for as long as Dean needs.

Several shaky breaths later, Dean relaxes a little and whispers, "What about tomorrow? And the day after that?"

"We're at war, Dean," Castiel says regretfully. "My survival is not guaranteed, you know that." When Dean doesn't reply, he adds, more lightly, "But we'll figure it out, remember? I am quite resilient for a -- to use your words -- little nerdy dude with wings."

Despite himself, Dean lets out a short laugh as he pulls away to look at Castiel. "You heard that too?"

"I was not as comatose as you believed," Castiel admits.

There's a moment of comfortable silence between them, until Dean's smile fades and he says wistfully, "We were happy, weren't we? At the end there?"

"I believe so," Castiel replies, inclining his head. "But I'm even less familiar with happiness than you are."

"Yeah, it goes on the list of things we can't have," Dean says, twisting his lips.

"We're closer now, are we not?" Castiel asks. "Closer than we were before, I mean."

Dean regards him thoughtfully for a moment before saying with a reluctant smile, "I guess you're right."

"Then that will have to be good enough."

"I dunno," Dean says teasingly as he hooks his thumbs in Castiel's belt loops and tugs him forward. "We might get even closer if you shower with me."

Castiel's lips twitch, and the look he gives Dean is both amused and fond. When he kisses Dean, it's tentative and chaste and makes Dean chuckle.

"What?"

"Nothing," Dean replies with a shake of his head. "It's just-- this is so weird, you know? You and me, making out in a friggin' bathroom. It's also weird how familiar it feels."

"It feels nice," Castiel pronounces.

Dean grins slightly and kisses him some more. "Yeah, it does." After a moment he adds, "I still can't believe an archangel tried to hook us up."

Michael sighs and wants to inform them that it wasn't his intention at all, but some things just happen, he supposes. In any case, he decides not to interrupt their shower.

fin.

...And thus concludes the porniest thing I've ever written.