It was strange, alone in the comfort of his bedroom. There was a numbness inside Dean that saturated his entire being to the core, even as the jagged shards that formed his heart raked at his flesh from the inside. He remembered all of it. Everything he had done for the months he was a demon was playing on an endless loop in his mind. Even as he thumbed through photographs of himself and Sam and Bobby and Dad and Mom… he could feel his insides still revolting at the anger and the hatred and the malice that consumed him as he paced the halls of the bunker, hell-bent on murdering his brother for whom he had done so much to try to protect.

Just when it seemed like the guilt was going to overpower his carefully built walls, Dean's saving grace came in the form of a knock on the door pulling him out of his musings. With what felt like a great exertion, Dean sat up on the bed and quickly slid the pictures under a book on the bedside table.

"Yeah," he called, as a half-hearted invitation to come in, fully expecting Sammy to walk in and try to have an angst fest.

To his mild surprise, it was Castiel that cracked open the door to offer the most angelic words of wisdom, "You look terrible."

Dean had to scoff at the bluntness. Of course, he was accustomed to this behavior from Cas… He was never quite sure if the genuine concern on his friend's face added to the humor or detracted. "Yanno, it wouldn't kill you to lie every now and again."

"No, it wouldn't kill me, I just… you…"

"Forget it." Dean sighed. He could barely register how much he really missed Castiel. Looking at him now, he even seemed back to normal… Before the angels fell, even before the narrowly avoided apocalypse… Almost glowing. "You on the other hand… You're looking good." Slowly pulling himself up from the bed, he moved closer to where Cas stood, looking both like a soldier and a baby in a trench coat. "So, you're back?"

Cas suddenly looked sheepish. "Yes… Well, temporarily. It's a long story… Crowley… Stolen grace… There's a female outside in the car… Another time."

During Cas's broken up "long story", Dean barely heard a word said, instead finding himself drawn into the angel's deep, blue eyes. He couldn't help feeling physically drawn in, the weight on his shoulders seemed to lighten the closer he was… as if Cas's new grace was fixing him too.

"Well, uh, thank you… for, uh, stepping in when you did." Almost as if on cue, Cas took a small step forward as well.

"Of course, Dean."

Dean's breath caught in his chest for a moment. There couldn't have been much more than 8 inches between the pair of them and feelings he had fought against for years were starting to surface again, fueled by a need to be close to someone. To Dean's embarrassment, the breath was finally released and his whole body trembled. His feet seemed rooted solidly in the ground beneath him, his heart pulling him forward and his head pulling him back.

"You saved my brother… Again. From me." His voice remained steady and unaffected, but between the closeness of Castiel and the guilt that raked him, Dean's walls began to crumble around him and tears began to well up in his eyes but he wouldn't let them fall. "I tried to kill him, Cas."

An array of mixed emotions played out on Castiel's usually very readable face. Reaching out, he placed heavy hands on Dean's shoulders as if they were the only things holding him upright. "Dean…"

The Great Wall of Dean collapsed under the warm weight of Castiel's hands and the space between them rapidly evaporated to an inch. Whatever Cas had intended to say was lost in his throat and Dean could see his own desire reflected in his eyes. Dean had to clear his throat to avoid cracking like a twelve-year-old; his eyes were cast downward at the carpet. "Cas, I…"

A warmth like wildfire swept through Dean from where Cas' soft, pristine lips pressed firmly against his own. For a fleeting moment, Dean felt a hot electricity blazing through his body unlike anything he had experienced… not since Lisa.

Their lips parted and Dean grimaced, conflict raging a bloody war within him. Reaching out with a desperate hand, he gripped Cas' collar and pressed their foreheads together. His breathing was heavy and his heart raced within his chest as if hoping to escape.

"Is this what you want, Dean?" Cas asked, trying to read Dean in a way he had never previously been capable of. His own physical body was aching with lust. "Will this help?" Unsure himself, and wanting nothing more than to be closer with Dean, he stretched out his hand and tenderly caressed Dean's scruffy jawline.

Where Cas touched his skin, it burned… not like the electricity, but like holding your hands above a campfire, imagining the flames could lick your skin and do no harm. He looked up at Cas, his angel, feeling young, at odds, and vulnerable… he gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

Consent acquired, Castiel's free hand gripped Dean's waist and held him close. Dean didn't once ponder or question the presence of the slowly hardening bulge now pressing desperately against his own. Their lips joined once again in a passionate reunion and the door was kicked closed behind them.

Flushed with excitement and fervor, Dean wasted no time stripping away the trench coat and tie. Buttons were another matter, but Cas interrupted the struggle by helping Dean shrug out of his flannel and pulling off the black tee underneath with ease revealing a scarred and muscular torso and his tattoo burning black like a brand on his chest.

Castiel continued to hold Dean with a grip like iron as he undid the buttons of his shirt with his other hand. It fell to the floor as a white flag of surrender and he continued to guide his lover to the bed.

For the first time in his adult life, Dean allowed himself to be guided and held. He found himself searching, without thinking, for Cas' warm lips only to feel them elsewhere, on his jaw, his shoulder, his collarbone… leaving trace feelings of warmth and ecstasy in their wake.

When his back hit the mattress, Dean's stomach was tied in knots and the knots were tied in knots. His body was aching for more, but one absurd thought entered his mind then that could have made him laugh if he wasn't so overwhelmed by just trying to breathe. I just made the bed…

Castiel's weight on him felt better than anything as his lips returned to meet Dean's once again, the only place where it really felt like they belonged while his hand traced its way over his pectorals and abdomen, feeling every strain in every muscle, feeling every bump and ridge as if he were a blind man reading a romance novel.

"Cas…" Dean moaned quietly as a hand brushed gingerly over his groin to undo his jeans.

Cas' big blue eyes flickered upward to Dean's as he pulled away everything until Dean was completely exposed. A brief feeling of shyness was pushed aside for boldness as Cas lightly brushed his fingers up Dean's sizeable shaft. "God, Castiel, you're such a tease…" he laughed gruffly.

"Sorry…" Cas muttered and Dean suddenly felt bad… It was his first time with another man too and he had only ever had sex once, period.

"It's alri- oh…" Dean began to attempt a backpedal but only managed a low groan as Cas's lips wrapped around his bulging member and started flicking the head with his tongue. "Oh f-uck, Cas…" His fingers scrambled for a hold of the blankets beneath him as his whole body became tense. Another hand ensnared itself in the dark waves of Cas's hair as his head bobbed up and down and around as an orgasm built up inside of Dean like bomb ready to explode. His hips moved beneath Cas's lips with increased strength and fervor. There were times Cas nearly took it all in. "Fuck!" he groaned as he came right into Castiel's willing and waiting mouth.

As Dean's muscles unclenched he felt more relaxed than he had in years. Cas laid down on the bed next to him, resting his head against his shoulder. "Alright, Cas, I gotta ask…" Dean said, not moving his position but turning his head to look at Cas. "How the hell…?"

A curiously distant look crossed Cas's face. "I researched," he said simply then stood up. "I need to go…" he muttered as he got dressed.

Suddenly Dean felt alone again. "Where are you going?"

"Heaven," he replied, slipping into his trench coat and straightening his tie.

"What's going on upstairs?" Dean asked, picking up his pants and dressing as well.

"I am an angel," he said, as if that were an explanation for every question that needed answering.

Dean frowned. "You're point, Mr. Cryptic?"

"Don't worry, Dean." Cas said, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You should get some rest… Heaven and Hell are relatively back in order. It's quiet out there."

And with that, Cas vanished out the doorway.