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The bar door swings open, warm light intrudes upon a horrific and bloody mess, with one shadowy figure standing amongst the torn apart corpses.
“Heya, angel.” The man says, turning slowly with a smug look painted on his face, smearing seamlessly against the streaks of blood on pale skin.
Castiel takes a deep breath and regrets it immediately. It’s warm and rank and overwhelmingly rotten.
“Hello, Dean.”
“You here to try and kill me after what I did?” Dean smirks, gesturing to said massacre.
Cas peers around at the dead bodies strewn about the dingy bar.
“I would never do that.”
Dean seems unconvinced, hands itching to fight, the mark burning brightly against his flesh. A constant reminder of his demonic branding.
Cas’ gaze drops to the red speckled wood floors, “I’m afraid I’d watch the whole world burn before I laid a hand on you again.”
Dean snorts, “Your flirting still needs work.”
“I’m not-” Cas huffs in futility, “Truth is, I don’t know why I’m here.”
“Sam put you up to this? Thinks you’re enough of a distraction so he can ambush me?”
Cas stares back at him, obviously wounded.
“Dean, I- I wouldn’t - “ Cas sighs and it deflates his stiff shoulders, “Sam doesn’t know that I’m here. Still thinks I haven’t found you.”
This surprises Dean, eyebrows raised, “Why would you do that?”
“Because I wanted to see you. Without him.”
“Gonna try and convince me to come back? To fight being a monster?”
“You’re not a monster.”
“Cas, buddy, I’m a demon.” Dean states plainly, circling Cas like he’s lunch, stepping over lifeless limbs, “That’s pretty much as monster-y as it gets.”
“You’re more than that, Dean.”
He laughs, hollow, “I think you might be the only one who thinks that.”
Cas swallows, taking in his surroundings once more, “Yes. That very well might be true.”
Dean scoffs, “Some pep talk.”
“Like I said…” Cas watches over his shoulder as Dean circles back in front of him, “I don’t know exactly why I’m here.”
Dean deflects, “So… how’s my new face look to his holiness?”
Cas stares back with unwavering adoration, “You look like you.”
“Tryna tell me I’ve always been this hideous?”
“Quite the opposite.”
Dean rolls his eyes, “Alright, enough foreplay.” Dean kicks a stiff arm out from under him, clearing his path to walk right up to Cas, “What do you want?”
“I guess I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
Dean reaches his arms out wide, “Well?”
“Suppose you’d call this fine then.”
“Maybe you wanna stick around.” Dean runs a finger down Cas’ cheek, “Ask Crowley if you can join us on the dark side.”
Cas rolls his eyes and takes a step back, out of Dean’s reach, “I’m not here for Crowley .” He spits out the name.
Dean decides he’s done playing nice, “We fuck, you know.”
Cas’ eyes snap up to meet Dean’s. A challenge lurks behind his black eyes. Cas doesn’t take the bait. Cas apparently doesn’t have anything to say to that.
Another surprise for Dean so he continues goading.
“Lowered inhibitions. No more hang ups. You get it.”
Cas remains unimpressed, “If you say so.”
Dean laughs, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re still trying to look at me like I don’t mean anything to you.” There’s an old familiar storm in Cas’ blue eyes. “So I guess even a demon can hold onto shame.”
“Careful there, buddy. You wouldn’t want to piss off a bloodthirsty demon when you’re almost tapped out of angel mojo, would you?”
“That’s why I’m here now. Pretty soon, I imagine I’ll be too sick to keep tabs on you.”
“Hm. That’s a pity.” Dean stalks forward, “Want me to slice open a few angels for you? I’m sure it’d be easy to nick some grace, if you asked me nicely.”
“No. I won’t do that again.”
“Right,” Dean rolls his eyes, clearly bored, “Forgot about your meaningless principles.”
“They’re far from meaningless, Dean.”
“Cas, angels have done nothing but wreak havoc on you. Fuck ‘em. You’d rather die than cut a few sorry sons of bitches open?”
“Yes.”
“Well, that’s fucking stupid. Even for you.”
Cas shrugs, “Maybe.”
Dean comes to stand directly in front of Cas and Cas tries not to tremble. He’s right, Cas is no match for him right now with his stolen grace dwindling every day. And who knows what this version of Dean is capable of. Cas very well might’ve walked right into his gravesite. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“You know,” Cas starts, “I thought you were dead.”
“I was.” Dean looks down the length Cas’ body, “That stupid fuck stabbed me with my own blade.”
“I’m relieved you’re alive.” Cas wipes at a bead of blood still glistening on his forehead.
“Well,” Dean makes a face, “Close.”
Cas places both hands on Dean’s shoulders, closing his eyes at the familiar touch.
“This is better than dead,” He says.
Dean pulls Cas closer by his belt loops, “Is it?”
Cas forces himself to look at Dean again to find the breathtaking green staring back, focused intently on Cas’ mouth.
“I don’t know.” Cas admits.
Cas’ hands slide up to hold Dean by the back of the neck to kiss him and Dean goes willingly.
Dean’s tongue meets Cas’ and they both let out a groan that the other devours.
“You’re an idiot for coming here.” Dean says against his mouth, hand already moving past Cas’ waistband.
Cas gasps when he reaches his cock with a firm grab, “I know.”
Cas tries not to focus on the sulfur in his nostrils or the coppery scent of death in the air as he peels off Dean’s blood spattered jeans. He tries not to focus on how far he’s fallen, how far they’ve both fallen, as he holds the weight of Dean’s cock on his tongue with several dead bodies only a few feet away. Still forever on his knees at the altar of Dean Winchester, righteous man or not. Human or not. Demon or not. Cas has never felt so utterly corrupted matched with a complete unwillingness to stop.
With his hands gripping the back of Dean’s thighs and Dean fucking into his mouth, he doesn’t ever want to stop.
He just wishes things were different.
Castiel once told Dean, unironically, that good things do happen. And if this is all that good can look like where they’re at today, then he’s gonna take it.
Castiel feels himself reeling closer and closer to his own death– a consequence of stealing the unconscionable. He probably deserves it. How many second chances is he granted to squander? Figures he’s just about out of good fortune.
Dean steals him away from his worshiping stupor, yanking his hair hard enough to pull Cas off with a string of spit still connecting himself to the head of Dean’s cock.
“You wanna fuck me, angel?” Dean asks, eyes shrouded in darkness.
Cas doesn’t hesitate and begins working his fly open immediately and answers with a hoarse and all too willing, “Yes.”
Dean drags him up by his collar with one hand to kiss him again, reveling at the taste of himself, and pulls Cas’ underwear down enough to free him.
Cas breaks the heat of their kiss, panting, “First– your mouth.”
Dean grins and goes down without question. Cas’ hands stay in Dean’s hair, crusty with dried blood. Cas blocks it out, remains focused on Dean’s wet lips surrounding him and the hot air escaping from Dean’s nostrils that are pressing into Cas’ skin as he swallows him down.
Cas keeps his eyes on the top of his head until it stops bobbing as Dean holds himself steady to choke and suddenly Cas’ head is thrown back and he’s chanting Dean’s name over and over until Dean hums, sending vibrations up Cas’ spine.
Cas is close to losing his mind as Dean pulls off and kisses slowly up his abdomen.
“Hurry up, hurry.” Cas begs and hoists him up standing to kiss him again.
It’s sloppy and filled with the need to consume one another.
Cas spins Dean, hand to the back on his neck and pushes him down across a circular table. Cas kicks his feet out wider and brings the head of his cock quickly to Dean’s hole.
“Shit, Cas.” Dean says, grinning, one cheek smushed against the wooden table.
Cas takes his time pushing in, savoring the sensation despite his previous rush to get here.
“Just look at you.” Cas says, watching his cock disappear into Dean.
“Don’t gotta be gentle, baby,” Dean whines, attempting to buck back into Cas, “I have tons of people in and out of there.”
Cas holds him still, “I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.”
Cas keeps pushing slowly, edging out to slide in deeper, only to edge out again- over and over- until he’s finally flush against Dean’s ass and Dean lets out a sweet little whimper that Cas tries to brand into his memory.
“I’ve given up everything for you.” Cas says, eyes still on their obscene act and watches as he forms a long string of spit to land on his cock to help lubricate them, even though he could just use his wilted grace.
Dean groans at the sensation.
Cas adds, “Repeatedly.”
Dean nods his head and lets out a breathy chant of, “I know, I know, I know,”
Cas rucks his hands up Dean’s shirt, feeling over his back and shoulders, leaning down over Dean’s body, rocking in and out of him with languid rolls of his hips.
“I’d do it all over again.” He promises, panting into Dean’s ear.
Dean’s hands reach back and finds Cas’ hair and holds him there, draped over Dean’s body like a flag, and Cas kisses along his neck and shoulders until he finally sucks a bruise into his shoulder blade.
“Say it again.”
Cas slides his hands under Dean’s chest to hold him impossibly closer, latching onto him, helping to pull Dean down to meet his thrusts.
“I’d do it all over again for you, Dean.”
Cas keeps his pace slow and steady and deep inside of Dean and eventually Dean starts muttering fuck, fuck, fuck in shaky whispers.
“Don’t come yet, Dean.” Cas says.
“What?” Dean whines, “Why the hell not?”
Cas rises, one hand still on the back of Dean's neck and the other at his hip. He pulls all the way out and slams in just the once.
Dean cries out and Cas answers, “Because I asked nicely.”
Dean laughs and is probably about to respond with some boorish quip that Cas nips in the bud by pounding into him relentlessly. Dean groans loudly with every thrust and Cas feels entranced with the feedback loop.
With a white hot intensity curling in his gut, Cas is rising to orgasm quickly as Dean rattles off obscenities in his wake.
Cas doesn’t come until Dean finally chokes out, “C’mon Cas, please,” And then he’s bent over, groaning into his back, fingers twined together with Dean’s, mouthing praise along his salty skin.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Dean says, lax against the table.
Cas pulls out and asks, “Did you come?”
Dean answers with a simple, “You said not to.”
Castiel’s head spins.
“Good.” He drags Dean to standing and makes him face him for a kiss before he says, “Sit.”
Dean grabs the nearest chair and dumps the body with a shredded throat that’s occupying it onto the floor with a thud.
Dean sits down in the sticky blood and looks up at Cas with hooded eyes and a swollen dick.
Cas ignores the depravity and drops to his knees while Dean spreads his legs further apart, scooching down the chair until his ass hangs over the edge, and they end up right where they started: with Cas worshiping Dean.
Dean drops his head back and moans out, “Yeah, just like that, Cas, fuck.”
Cas slides one hand up to rest on Dean’s neck and the other to finger Dean’s hole with his own come.
Dean holds Cas’ head down with both hands, fucking up into Cas’ mouth, until his speech is a string of obscene litany. Shit, shit, fuck, shit, oh god yes until he comes down Cas’ throat.
Cas pulls off and they’re both left panting.
Dean's head is still over the back of the chair, looking up towards the ceiling but he’s grabbing and pulling at whatever he can find, hair, ears, skin, his shirt, saying, “Come here, come here, get up here,” until Cas sits in his lap.
Dean’s head lulls forward until he’s looking at Cas and grabbing at his face, “Wanna taste.”
Cas smears the come still on his fingers over Dean’s lips and goes to lick it off instantly.
Dean chuckles and says, “Fuck, you’re disgusting,” and pulls them in for a filthy kiss that’s all hot and silky tongue and Dean thinks, not for the first time, that he’d eat the angel alive if he could.
They make out like that for a long while, swapping spit and moans, hands grazing every bit of flesh they can find, sitting in the blood of some poor man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Castiel knows this, can’t forget this rancid truth, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing to roll his hips into Dean’s lap as they suck face.
“Aiming for round 2?” Dean asks, grabbing ahold of Cas’ semi.
“Just feels good.” Cas whispers against Dean's cheek, stubble grazing together.
They keep kissing and lazily rutting against each other. Cas’ fingers tangling in Dean's hair and Dean has his arms wrapped tight around Cas’ middle. Both desperate to keep this going as long as possible.
Dean gets hard again first and he feels Cas grin into a kiss.
“What? I’m a demon.” Dean offers as a joking explanation.
“Right. I forgot there were perks.”
Dean winks as he licks his hand and slicks up his dick.
“Think it’s your turn to sit, dude.”
Cas holds Dean at the base of his dick and aims it up with himself before slowly sinking down.
Dean's eyes flutter closed and he sighs out happily.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
Cas rocks in his lap and rides him slowly. He grimaces, feels too dry.
Cas gropes at the back of the chair where a generous amount of blood is still waiting to seep into the wood. He brings his bloody hand between them and asks, “Can I?”
“Christ, you’re sick.”
“Do you want to fuck me or not?”
Dean shoves Cas up to free his dick, “Good point.”
Cas coats Dean’s cock in nearly coagulated blood from a dead man.
Cas sinks back down, much easier this time, and they let out matching groans together.
“Better?” Dean asks.
“Much.” Cas says, picking up speed to rock steady in Dean's lap.
Dean holds him close again and Cas moans into his neck.
It doesn’t take long for Cas to get hard between them.
“Fuck, Cas, can’t get enough.”
Dean holds his face to kiss him deeply, heads tilted to the side, mouths opening wide, sharing each other's hot breath.
Soon, Cas’ kisses go lax and all he can do is groan into Dean’s open mouth.
“Dean, please.” Cas begs, foreheads touching, rhythm stuttering.
“Please what, baby?” Dean kisses all over Cas’ face.
“Touch me, please.”
Dean grabs ahold of Cas’ cock and says, “Anything the angel wants.”
Dean holds him tight and jerks him fast, he knows Cas has gotta be close. His other hand has Cas by the hair and keeps him moaning against his mouth. Dean’s determined to steal as much as he can from his orgasm.
Cas holds either side of Dean's face and by the time he’s close to coming, he’s practically clawing at him, chanting Dean's name like a sacrilegious prayer.
It’s enough to send Dean over the edge with him, pumping deep into Cas as Cas comes all over Dean’s hand and chest.
Dean wastes no time wiping it all across Cas’ slack face and Cas retaliates by rubbing his face against Dean’s and pretty soon they’re both licking and kissing it off of each other with Dean still buried inside of Cas.
They’re back to a sleepy make out session despite the rotting smell increasing all around them.
Soon, Dean finally says, “You should stay.”
Cas pulls away to look at him, breathless, “What?”
Dean doesn’t look him in the eyes, he’s busy looking at how he’s still inside of the angel and says, “I know you’re sick. Lemme take care of you.”
“Dean-“
“Look, I know it’s not ideal, ok? I get that.” Dean’s tracing his fingers along Cas’ arms, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps.
“That’s an understatement.”
Dean fixes him with a flat look with black eyes.
“I can get you grace.”
Cas smiles sweetly and kisses him again and again, almost reigniting each other.
“I know that.” He says against his lips.
“Is it Crowley? ‘Cause fuck him.” Dean leaves wet kisses along Cas’ jaw, “We’ll ditch him or something. I don’t care.”
Cas works his arms between Dean and the chair to hold onto him tightly. Blood squelches against his skin.
“Dean, I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I’m done killing angels.”
Dean thrusts into him, “Well that’s great then because I’ll do the killing.”
“That’s not the point. I can’t be responsible for more death.”
“The mark already makes me kill. What better reason is there than to help you, man?”
“Dean, I’ve made peace with my decision.”
“Your decision, just so we’re clear, is suicide.” Cas sighs, head on Dean’s shoulder, “This is your fucked up version of saying goodbye, huh?”
“Figured it might be the last time I see you. I didn’t want to spend it arguing.”
“So…yes.”
“Dean, this is far from over for you. Sam won’t give up on finding a cure.”
“And you?”
“I might not have a choice in making it that far.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re choosing not to live.”
“I’m choosing not to kill.”
“God, Cas. What’s the difference?”
Cas stares at him, “The Dean I knew used to have an answer to that question.”
“Yeah, well. He’s gone. I’m all you’ve got now, baby.”
“I don’t believe that.”
Dean rolls his eyes, “Don’t ruin the mood with your optimism, Cas.”
“I don’t need to have hope to know that I’ll love every version of you.”
“Alright, that’s it.” Dean pushes Cas off him and starts to get dressed, “Pillowtalk is officially over.”
The bar door opens, light invading the space again, Cas squints against it.
“Oh!” A familiar cackle echoes, “Hello, Feathers. What a lovely surprise.”
Cas pulls his pants up to reveal there’s a few blood stains.
“That’s my cue.” Cas deadpans.
“Aw, come on, Castiel. Don’t you wanna join the dark side with me and Dean?”
“Ha!” Dean laughs, “That’s exactly what I said.”
Cas rolls his eyes, “Not interested.”
Crowley takes a look around and quirks an eyebrow at Cas, hands in his pockets.
“Well, mate, it seems you are quite interested in my boy here.”
“Fuck you,” Dean snaps back, “I’m not your boy.”
Crowley smirks at him, “That’s not what you said last night.”
Dean rolls his eyes and continues getting dressed.
“Right. Well, this reunion has been fun.”
“See ya, Cas!” Dean waves over his shoulder, demon mask fully back into place.
“Yes, you’re welcome back anytime, love.”
“You’re not likely to see me ever again.”
Crowley peers at him and then has a lightbulb moment.
“Ah- low on the angel juice, are we, mate? You need your Daddy Crowley to fetch you another hit?”
“No.” Cas stares him down, “I won’t let you lower me to that ever again.”
“Castiel, baby…” Crowley gestures around the bar, “Whatever was done here was perhaps the lowest you’ve ever been. And I had nothing to do with that, now did I?”
Castiel glares at him but can’t argue back. He’s technically right.
“Goodbye, Dean.”
He spares one last look at him before he turns on his heel to open the door.
“Offer remains, Feathers.”
“Go to hell, Crowley.”
The door swings behind him and he hears one last quip, “Never heard that one before.”