Castiel

Castiel jiggles the doorknob, cursing under his breath as the lock sticks. He hears a loud crash, and briefly steps back as the door opens and a familiar form throws itself at him, engulfing him in the scent of Dean and the body of Dean and the laugh of Dean and Dean--

"Hey!" Cas chuckles as he buries his face into his boyfriend's AC/DC shirt, inhaling deeply.

The two stay locked together, each squeezing the other as if they wouldn't see each other ever again.

That's gonna be true in a few weeks.....

Cas pushes the thought out of his mind. Dean was here, in his arms, where he belongs, and that's all that matters right now.

Cas breaks the hug, pulling back and kissing Dean lightly before smiling and saying,

"What was that crash I heard?" 

Dean darkens a few shades, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck, "I ran into the doorframe trying to open the door for you."

Cas smiles warmly, ducking his head and smiling at the floor in a way that sends a rush of affection and adoration through Dean. "God, Dean, you're so goddamn cute!"

Dean gives a breathy laugh before scooping up the smaller man (Dean wants to believe that he wasn't as dangerously light as before) and tossing him on the bed, throwing himself down on top of him, his face inches from those beautiful blue eyes.

"I love you." Dean says seriously, kissing the tip of his boyfriend's nose, earning a shy smile from him.

"Are you sure?" Cas asks teasingly.

"Well, I'm 79% sure, but I could check," Dean breathes, cutting of Cas's reply with a light kiss, deepening the kiss after a few seconds.

Cas kisses back, desperation in his actions as he presses himself as close to Dean as humanly possible. Dean slips his hand hesitantly beneath the hem of his shirt, waiting for permission. Cas nods breathlessly, breaking the kiss for a moment but submerging himself in Dean's lips once more. Dean's hand runs up Cas's scarred stomach and chest, hungrily exploring the new terrain. Cas leans into the touch; for once he wasn't ashamed of his body.

Clothing is pulled off, one article at a time, the two savoring the taste of each other, neither in any rush to experience the other.

Dean breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he looks hard into Cas's eyes.

"Cas...are you sure?" He asks, concern in his eyes.

Cas nods vigorously, God did he want Dean. He was slightly nervous, sure, seeing as he hasn't ever been with anyone, but he wouldn't want anyone else to be his first.

"Yes. I'm sure. I love you, right?" Cas says breathlessly.

"Yeah, I know, but there's more to love than--well, never mind, you know already," Dean barely gets the phrase out before Cas meshes their mouths together again.

Sex is too crude a word to describe what happened next. Love was made; pure, wholesome love. Cas never knew how wonderful it was to fit so perfectly with someone, the warm feeling of belonging to something bigger than himself, the way he felt that night was better than any temporary high that the razor brought him, so much more satisfying and happy than losing anouther pound. He felt complete. Safe. Loved. And he wanted to feel that way forever and ever.

***

"You're so beautiful, Cas," Dean says, lazily tracing hearts on his boyrfriends scarred stomach.

Cas snorts, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, says the guy who's touching my scars."

He immediately regrets his words and Dean's hand draws back, the warmth from his hand suddenly gone.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" 

"It's fine Cas. I should have known it would bother you, sorry." Dean says quietly, moving his hand to safer territory.

"No!" Cas blurts, much louder than intended. "No, it doesn't bother me. I was just...I don't know. It's easier to be sarcastic and bitter than admitting that I'm not as awful as I think I am."

Dean nods, keeping his hand well away from any scarred surface, which makes Cas's heart ache. He grips Dean's hand tight, and puts it back on his chest, over his heart.

"Hey, Dean..." Cas begins, not sure how to phrase his next sentence. 

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean replies, moving onto his side and propping himself up with an elbow.

"I was thinking...I mean, I thought of what you were doing, the whole bucket list thing, and I kinda want to try it myself."

Dean's face freezes, and Cas is alarmed, unsure of what he did wrong.

"What?" Cas asks.

"Well, Cas, I mean...the bucket list was a list of things I want to do before I...die...I don't know how I feel about you having a bucket list like mine..." Dean says haltingly, his grip tightening reassuringly over Cas's.

Cas nods, suddenly realizing, "Oh crap, Dean, that's not how I meant it at all. I'm not making a bucket list because I'm going to die (well, anytime soon), I'm making it because, well....you know why."

Dean nods again, stroking Cas's hand with his thumb. Cas relishes the way his calloused fingertips scratch against his smooth skin, sending electricity up his spine.

"I really don't want you to go..." Cas whispers, his eyes shining with tears he vowed not to shed.

Dean moves his face closer to Cas's, and his breath tickles the other man's throat. "I don't want to go." His voice is rough and quiet, full of shame and wistfulness and utter sadness.

Cas turns around onto his side and pushes himself closer to Dean so that they're spooning.

Only then, when his face is hidden from Dean's, does he allow himself to cry.