Dean loved Cas. There he fuckin admitted it. But he loved a lot of things in life. Good alcohol, sex, and Sammy. Though the last two share no similarities. But the first two did tend to go hand in hand. He would often dream of sex with Cas. Rough. Hard. Gentle. Lovemaking. It never mattered. As long as Cas was there. But nothing could prepare him for the first time his lips touched Cas's.
It was supposed to be after Cas invaded his personal space. Dean would get him back by gently lowering his lips on his. Wipe that emotionless expression off his face. Or when they were high off a successful hunt. He would pull him in roughly by his trench coat and attack him, mauling his mouth. Or maybe it would just happen on it's own time. But not this. This was straight out of a nightmare. The blood was to red, the sky a empty moonless night. Not a sound to be heard. Just him and Castiel. From beginning to end.
Breathe. In. Out. One. Two. He lowered his lips one more time to the lips getting colder and colder despite all the layers Cas insisted on wearing. It's a bit damp Dean notices almost absent mindedely. He doesn't know why he cares about that. He does have more pressing matters. Dean has killed many things in his life. Some he regrets more than others. He sometimes even forgot what weapon he used. But this? Funny how the gun continues to echo. Or is that just him? Why is the blood warm but the body so cold? No. Stop. Cas is still there he has to be. Could Dean stop his soul from leaving if he kept his mouth over Cas's? Fragile mortality. How Dean hated that phrase. Could he sound more like a emo kid if he tried? But it all comes crashing down on him then. The repressed emotions. What he never got to say. The unspoken agreements. Will he ever get to say them? See this is why he doesn't do emotions. Someone always gets hurt. You would've thought he would have learned that. His line of career and all.
But he blames his weakness on the nights, much like this one when no-one was around. When he got lonely. When he felt like he was missing something. But then Cas would come. He's not supposed to glow right? He did lose his grace? He's not supposed to be the brightest thing Dean has ever seen mortal or supernatural right? But nothing is lite up now. It actually is rather anti climatic. Just him and Cas. Alone. Battling the darkness like always. Gosh what number is he at yet? 28..29.....30 Come on Cas. Breathe for me. One last miracle. Please. Make me believe. 31....32.....33.......(I love you Cas)