I do not own Supernatural.


Castiel felt his breath bounce off of Dean's chest and spread back over his own face. He panted heavily, squirming as Dean pounded him up and into the hard cold wall. The pace was punishing, the wet slap of Dean ramming into him echoed off the walls in the quiet room.

"What'd I tell you?" Dean's voice is deep from above him, but Castiel doesn't look up. He ducks his head, reveling in Dean's attention.

"Never get hurt." Castiel whispers brokenly. Dean's number one rule. Dean stops his sharp thrusts and Castiel wants to cry. Feeling Dean so deep in him, feel the evidence of his pleasure pressed up against his prostate is pure bliss. Dean roughly grabs his chin, jerking Castiel's face up to him. Castiel squeezes his legs tighter around his waist, every breath he sucks in is quick and shallow.

"Fucking hate it." Dean grits, his beautiful face rippling with disgust. Castiel looks away, knowing that his bruised eye should be completely gone in the next day or two. He had done a good job of hiding from Dean for a few days while the worst of it healed. If Dean had seen the bright eggplant purple, he would have gone insane with jealousy. But now he was being punished for avoiding Dean for so long without explanation.

"I'll be more careful." Castiel tries to soothe him, kissing his stubbled chin. Dean flinches, and Castiel watches his shoulders relax. Dean begins fucking him again, but the brutal pace is abandoned for a sweet agonizing grind against Castiel's prostate that makes him want to set himself on fire.

"Dean, please." He begs, Dean snickers against his neck. Holding him close.

Not many people understand Dean, his harsh outer exterior is so easy to dismiss. Castiel had always prided himself on being able to read people well. It had been nearly two years ago when he had first seen Dean. It hadn't been anything really. Just a picture on a website that Castiel had been checking to examine his newest opponent. Dean had been at the top of the list of popular fighters.

'Dean Winchester, in downtown San Francisco.' A line read beneath the picture. Dean was leaning against brick wall, breath foggy in front of him. He was wearing a black leather jacket with red flannel under it, his biker boots were worn. His jeans were ragged and he had his hands stuffed into his pockets. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he stared at something above and to the right of the photographer who had obviously took the picture without him knowing.

He looked so sad.

Castiel's chest clenched as he saw the slight droop of the green eyes. The defeated slump in his shoulders. Castiel felt pity for the man, but had quickly switched over to the next page looking for information on his opponent. It was nearly a month later when he had checked the website again. Another picture of Dean was posted, and Castiel realized that not only was Dean Winchester terribly sad.

He was so very lonely.

Castiel looked through the pictures on the website. Every single one was of Dean alone, ambling through the streets, training in a gym, or of him sitting on his balcony smoking a cigarette. Castiel couldn't help but think he looked like he was waiting for someone. He read up on the man's history, his impressive record. When he went to youtube and found an interview, the dead look in Dean's eyes nearly made sob.

When he found out a few days later he was scheduled to fight Winchester, he was ecstatic. He thought about the rough man, wondered about the awful mysterious scars that scratched up and down his back like a warning for others to stay away.

"I think Dean Winchester is lost." He had said in an interview, blinking when he realized how haughty and self righteous that must sound. But it was true. He felt bad for the man, he hoped he could help him. Give him a friend, someone to talk to.

That is until he met him.

Those green eyes were anything but pitiable. They burned so passionately that Castiel found himself staring. Dean Winchester wasn't just handsome, he was beautiful.

"Hello Dean." He had blurted out, just so he could hear Dean speak. Dean's stunned face was gorgeous, Castiel had to drag his eyes down to inspect the rest of him. Noting his tan skin and freckles. Castiel wanted to touch his prickly hair, and the heavy scars on his back.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Dean had scoffed. Castiel had flinched at his tone. Did Dean dislike him? He hoped not, he wanted to befriend the man. Even when Dean called him a girl, even when he was mocked and Dean sucker punched him. He couldn't help but gravitate towards him. Like a moth to a flame.

"Wanna suck me off, angel?" Dean's taunting voice was burned into his mind. Castiel's hands had trembled as he obeyed. He wasn't sure why he was so desperate to please Dean, but he was. He fumbled obediently, doing whatever the fighter asked. Dean seemed shocked by this, murmuring encouragement before insulting him again like he was confused on how he should act. Despite his harsh words, Dean's fingers were gentle in his hair, sliding through before tugging lightly. When Castiel began to gag he pulled away, and when he took Castiel completely he left his seed deep in him.

The scars he left on Castiel were a thousand times worse than the ones on his back.

After their tryst Castiel had felt guilt. He had never allowed someone to use him so easily, and to consume him so thoroughly. He was ashamed. He trained harder, desperate to forget the loud mouthed, smart aleck everyone seemed so interested in. The harder he tried to forget Dean the more he stood out in his mind. When he learned of their rematch he had nearly called it off. He didn't want to see him again, didn't know if he could fight him off if Dean approached him in lockers after the match.

"Dean." God he had forgotten how beautiful he was. Radiating self consciousness as Castiel looked at him, really looked at him. Perhaps the most tragic thing about Dean Winchester was the most alluring. He didn't think he was worthy of being loved. Castiel saw it, saw how he fidgeted under his gaze and made rude remarks to try and distract him. But he couldn't hurt Dean. Not when he'd just realized he loved him. So he had practically thrown the match

But when Dean had whispered that filthy promise in his ear he had been determined. How dare he think that all Castiel wanted from him was his body. He was outraged at first before realizing that it could be his in. He would let Dean have him physically, all while working out how to get closer to him. How to make him realize how astounding he was.

Castiel really hadn't meant to kiss him. He hadn't.

But when Dean had licked the sweat from upper lip, Castiel hadn't been able to resist. Dean's humiliation had been palpable.

Castiel was a fast learner and he quickly learned that if Dean didn't have control than he went insane. So when Dean met him in the locker room after the game, covered in sweat and looking ready to kill. Castiel had submitted, bared his throat to him both literally and figuratively and Dean had accepted. Their turbulent relationship had begun with Castiel slowly pulling the strings to draw Dean out of his shell of self hatred.

The possessiveness wasn't expected. Dean wanted Castiel completely, greedily pressing bruises along his throat and chest that he knew the world would see when Castiel fought. But Dean wanted them to. Castiel was okay with that, in fact he appreciated it. Knowing Dean wanted him was enough, it kept him going after his thousands of 'I love yous' were met with only a quick kiss or 'I know'. It hurt, but waiting for Dean to find himself was worth it.

Castiel laid in the warm clean sheets. The white comforter, white pillow, and white sheets made him feel like he was lying on clouds. He nestled into the overstuffed bed, the smell of Dean surrounding him in the drafty studio. From outside Castiel could hear the muted sounds of rain pattering on the overhang and the honking of distant traffic.

"Babe?" Dean called, the clatter of his keys and the rustle of his leather jacket being removed came from the doorway. Castiel quickly feigned sleep. It was habit now. Heavy foot steps approached the bed. The sound of clothes being shed. Castiel's breath quickened, but he slowed it. Dean slipped in behind him, body radiating heat. Castiel waited impatiently. Feeling Dean's eyes but unable to see him as he felt the bed shift as Dean leaned over his limp frame.

"You awake, angel?" Dean murmured, fingers touching the tips of Castiel's dark hair. Dean's blunt square fingertips were dry and calloused, they traced down Castiel's cheekbones touching his lips carefully. Castiel swallowed the shuttery breath that tried to worm it's way from his throat. Dean's breath puffed out in a small gasp over his face.

"I know you're awake." Castiel could hear Dean's smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. Castiel let his eyes open and leaned up to wrap an arm around his neck.

"I got the gym. Papers are on the table." Dean beamed. He was purchasing a large gym, and his first employee was Castiel who would be teaching classes to children ages five to eight.

"Congratulations." Castiel murmured against his mouth, touching his soft blonde-brown hair that always changed color depending on the light.

"Wanna know the name I registered?" Dean asked against his lips, voice like gravel as he shifted between Castiel's thighs. Dean's eyes widened as he reached between them to find Castiel's hole already slicked and prepped for him. Castiel flushed at Dean's smug face. Dean growled his pleasure, the vibrations echoing rumble against Castiel's chest.

"Good boy." Dean nearly purred, sucking at his sensitive earlobe.

"What's the name?" Castiel gasped, watching his breath fog in the air. It was cold in the room, but their combined body heat beneath the blankets was like a furnace.

"Hn?" Dean hummed distractedly. Already gripping his erection and teasingly sliding it against his hole. Castiel jolted, arching up off the bed and groaning softly as Dean eased into him. Castiel's eyes screwed shut at the familiar burn of pleasure that coiled tight in his belly. Dean kissed the spot between his eyebrows that had knitted together, Castiel could hear his teeth grinding like they sometimes did in his sleep. When he did, Castiel had to kiss him softly, stroking his hands until he relaxed from the nightmares.

"The gym, what did you name it?" Castiel reminded, voice hushed as Dean began his agonizingly slow pace. He pushed in so deep, Castiel's entire body trembled, legs squeezing tightly around Dean's middle.

"Angels N' Demons." Dean grinned, but his face folded and he let out a choked off noise as he thrusted particularly roughly. Every push had Castiel's back scooting up a few inches, the sound of the bed frame scrapping over the wood floors was familiar and comforting as Castiel rapidly approached his orgasm.

"Befitting." Castiel smiled against Dean's neck. Dean had long lost interest in the conversation, his only response was a grunt as he squeezed Castiel's hips. He held him down, his heavy balls slapping against Castiel's ass as he folded the smaller man nearly in half.

"Say it." Dean croaked, fingers digging into Castiel's skin and surely bruising. Castiel grappled to find purchase on his slick body, raking his nails over the scars to leave ones of his own.

"I love you." Castiel whispered against his skin. Dean raked in a jagged breath, like he'd been shot. He snarled through his orgasm, spilling deep in Castiel. Castiel followed as soon as he felt Dean's teeth dig into the meat of his shoulder, crying out as his prostate was jerkily pressed into. Castiel's muscles milked Dean dry, the heavy weight of Dean settled on his chest as they caught their breaths.

As the sweat cooled on their skin, they burrowed closer under the blankets. Dean reaching to grab the tissues conveniently next to their bed as he cleaned up the mess Castiel had made on their stomachs. Castiel knew that the warmth seeping from his hole would be left untouched, Dean always made sure Castiel was constantly reminded of who he belonged too. Who he loved.

"Sammy's coming to dinner tonight. To celebrate getting the gym." Dean yawned, raking a hand lazily through his hair. Castiel laid against his side, resting his cheek on his lover's chest as he stroked his thumb over a bruise he had sucked into Dean's collar a few days ago. He felt slow and hazy from the orgasm.

"I'll go get dinner with Samandriel. You can text me when you're finished." Castiel frowned lightly. He wanted to stay with Dean on such a special night. But it was protocol that he left, returning when Dean's brother had gone. Sometimes Dean would also have friends over, that required Castiel to go find somewhere else to inhabit for a few hours.

"No. I ..." Dean hesitated, he was glaring at the ceiling when Castiel looked up at him.

"I want you to be there. I want you to meet him." Dean's cheeks were red, like they got when they were having sex. His freckles stood out and Castiel used his fingers to trace them.

"I'd love to." Castiel breathed, hiding his huge smile in Dean's chest.

"Sammy!" Dean cheered, swinging his large younger brother down into a hug. Sam wore a nice suit, obviously tailored for his long proportions. He hugged Dean close, a big dimpled smile on his sunny face.

"Sorry I couldn't make your last fight. I watched it on paper-view. You got your ass handed to you." Sam teased, Dean punched him on the arm and Sam laughed rubbing at his sleeve.

"Yeah, right. I kicked that guys ass." Dean smirked, easy confidence falling into place when in front of others. Castiel shifted awkwardly behind the two brothers. Sam looked over Dean's head and his brow furrowed.

"Isn't that that angel guy who broke your undefeated record?" Sam said quietly, eyes still on Castiel.

"Sure is." Dean coughed, rubbing at the back of his neck as he gestured for Castiel to come closer.

"Hello, my name is Castiel." Cas greeted. Sam's big hand clasped his, the naturally tan skin was probably the only feature the brothers shared. Sam was a sweet wholesome looking man, while Dean was rough and militant looking.

"Are you guys roommates?" Sam questioned, observant. Castiel was too at ease to be in a friends home. Castiel gave him a tight smile.

"Yes, I'm in between homes at the moment and Dean offered me-"

"Don't hafta' lie, Cas." Dean mumbled. Both Sam and Castiel turned to look at the older Winchester, shuffling his feet with his hands crammed in his jeans. On the table was the warm meal both Castiel and Dean had made together, Dean eager to try and impress his brother with his new found cooking skills thanks to Cas's patient teaching.

"What?" Castiel's scowled. Was there another lie he'd already told Sam? He chewed his lip, about to retract the earlier statement and say he was just a friend in town when Dean spoke up.

"We're together." Dean grunted, looking down at his feet. Sam was stock still beside him, hazel eyes wide.

"What?" Sam pressed softly, voice disbelieving. Dean let out an annoyed raspy breath and gestured wildly between himself and Cas.

"He's my boyfriend or whatever." Dean snapped. One hand balled into a fist in his jeans, the other scratching at his forehead. Sam was frozen in his spot, lips parted slightly in shock. Dean didn't look at him, just turned on his heel and headed to the table.

"I worked my ass off making you a healthy dinner, since you're such a whiny little bitch whenever I just get burgers." Dean called over his shoulder. Castiel followed behind him taking a seat at the table. Dean handed Castiel a plate and Castiel started scooping up salad.

"Not all of us eat like pigs, Dean." Sam sounded still slightly dazed, but a small smile was on his lips as he plopped down beside Castiel, sending him a shy grin.

They never really had a big coming out party, or talked about the specifics of Dean and Castiel's relationship. But it was enough. Castiel choked back tears all throughout dinner. Finally catching Dean's eye across the table around dessert.

'Thank you.' Castiel mouthed. Dean smirked, waiting until Sam glanced at the TV on the other side of the room where a football game was droning softly.

Castiel couldn't be sure, because when Dean was happy and sated his Texas drawl came out unintentionally. But Castiel could have sworn that the words formed from Dean's smiling lips were;

'I love you.'