Chapter Text
It occurs to Castiel, sometime that afternoon and between bouts of rather athletic sex, that he has no idea how he ever ended up here.
Looking back on the last few months of his life, it seems impossible that he would find himself in this position: happy – content, even – and in Dean Winchester’s bed.
It gets even more absurd when he thinks of himself a year ago. Then ten years. A laugh bubbles its way out of his chest before he can stop it.
“Hey. Just so you know, it’s not polite to laugh at a guy with your head between his legs.”
Castiel looks up from where he’d been idly sucking a bruise to Dean’s thigh.
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Not really an ego boost.”
“Sorry,” Castiel says. “I was just thinking.”
“Well, let’s put a stop to that,” Dean says. He reaches down with both hands and starts pulling Castiel up by his head, leaning up himself and drawing their mouths together.
Castiel lets himself be distracted for a long moment, kissing Dean deep and thorough. Eventually Dean breaks away and falls back against the pillows, and Castiel follows, dropping his head down and tracing a hand over Dean’s chest.
“So, what were you thinking about?” Dean asks.
“I forget,” Castiel says, eyes slipping closed.
Dean gives him a playful little push. “C’mon.”
Opening his eyes again, Castiel offers a wry smile. “I was just thinking. . . how did we get here?”
“Well,” Dean says, “if I remember things right, you attacked me in the shower. I was defenseless.”
Castiel rolls his eyes.
“You were like an animal,” Dean adds. “I didn’t stand a chance.”
In retaliation, Castiel delivers a sharp pinch to Dean’s chest, eliciting a satisfying yelp.
“Hey.”
Taking pity on him, Castiel leans down and soothes the mark with a soft kiss. “I mean here. Did you ever think we’d make it here?”
The teasing smile drops from Dean’s face. “Well. . . it was definitely touch-and-go there for a while.”
Castiel nods. “I’m sorry.” He’s said the words a lot the past few days, but he knows it’ll never be enough.
“I know, Cas.” Dean reaches across and runs his hand up Castiel’s arm. “Me too. We both. . . kinda suck at this.”
Castiel chuckles wryly. “At what, apologizing?”
Dean finds his eyes. “At being human.”
That stirs something deep within Castiel’s chest. “I suppose we’re. . . works in progress, then.”
“Yeah,” Dean says. “Makin’ it up as we go, you might say.”
A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. “You might.”
Dean answers with a grin of his own, then leans over and starts kissing Castiel again, hard and hungry. The hand he’d been trailing along Castiel’s arm starts drifting lower.
Castiel inhales sharply against Dean’s lips when Dean fists a hand around his hardening cock. “I think we should talk about all this later,” Castiel says.
Smiling again, Dean leans down and starts pressing light kisses to Castiel’s neck. “No no, keep talkin,’ I’m listening.”
“Um. . . that’s very distracting,” Castiel says, shifting a little on the bed.
“Hmm, is it?”
Castiel gasps as Dean drags a thumb across the head of his cock.
“You were sayin,’” Dean says, sliding further down Castiel’s chest. “You didn’t think we’d make it here.”
Now planted between Castiel’s splayed legs, Dean looks up and winks.
Castiel takes a breath. “Yes.”
Nodding sagely, Dean leans down and draws his tongue up the underside of Castiel’s cock. “And what else?”
Castiel closes his eyes, tries to concentrate. “I didn’t ever think this would be my life. I didn’t think – ah – I didn’t think it was supposed to be my life.”
“Mmhmm.” Dean hums with his lips wrapped around Castiel’s cock, and it almost sends Castiel careening off the bed, hips first. Dean pulls back, grinning. “And?”
“It’s just,” Castiel says, panting slightly, “all of this seems so. . . normal. But – in a good way.” He stops then, overwhelmed by the talented ministrations of Dean’s tongue.
Just as he relaxes into the pillows though, Dean stops, pulling off entirely. Castiel looks down at him, glaring.
“What?” Dean asks, his face as mask of faux innocence.
“You’re. . .” Castiel struggles to regain his breath. “You’re teasing.” He wriggles his hips, desperate for some kind of relief.
Dean shakes his head. “No idea what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to listen to what you have to say.”
Castiel narrows his eyes. “Is this fun for you?”
“Dude, you have no idea.”
Despite his frustration, Castiel chuckles again. He pulls in another steadying breath. “Getting to have this –” he pauses on a moan, as Dean rewards him by leaning down over his cock again, “– getting to be ha – happy. I didn’t think that would happen.”
Dean offers a reassuring squeeze to his thigh.
“I still can’t – mm – I can barely believe it has.”
He stops then, and so does Dean, leaning up and pulling off again. Castiel lets out a whine.
“It has, though.” Dean grins.
“Yes, it has,” Castiel says, impatient. “Now please, Dean.”
Mercifully, Dean takes pity on him. With one final grin, he dips his head again and works his tongue until Castiel spills into his mouth.
After, when Castiel has licked the last traces of come from Dean’s lips, they lie facing one another in the bed, legs tangled.
“Part of me thinks this is someone else’s story,” Castiel says quietly, “that I was. . . I was just lucky enough to walk into.”
Dean leans up on one elbow and kisses him softly. “No, Cas. It’s yours.”