Title: The Shadows Fall Behind
Author: The Grrl
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for the prompt "Night". Castiel is watching over Dean as he sleeps.

***

Zachariah often referred to them as howler monkeys. Uriel went with the more colorful term "mud-monkeys". As if humans were the lowest of the low, primitive beings worthy only of disdain. If they could only see Castiel now, stretched out naked in a bed next to Dean, watching over him as he sleeps.

They would mock him ceaselessly and without mercy.

Not that it matters. They're gone now, both of them struck down. And Castiel is alive, grace fully intact. Alive and free to watch over what must surely be his father's finest single creation, spending the night in a cheap motel room, lurid neon light spilling in through the window, bathing the bed in blue and purple.

Dean grunts and rolls onto his back, stretching an arm out above his head. Castiel moves with him, pressing himself along the length of Dean's warm, naked body. The bedcovers have are pushed down to Dean's waist, leaving his chest exposed, the tattoo a dark smudge above his left nipple. Cas props himself up on an elbow, wanting to see Dean's face, checking to see that yes, his eyes are remain closed. Dean slumbers on, relaxed and at peace. For the moment, at least.

None of the other angels understood, not even when occupying their own vessels, how complex humans are. Fragile yet exquisite, beautifully rendered by their father into an ideal vastly different than angels, yet containing a grace all their own. Anna, perhaps she understood for a little while, but the others never did.

Watching Dean sleep fills Castiel with a gladness he doesn't quite understand, no matter how much time he spends in contemplation. In his brief time as a human, Castiel fell prey to sleep a few times. He found it unnerving. A weakness that left him vulnerable. Yet with Dean, it's a thing of beauty. His stillness, the graceful line of his shoulders, the curve of his neck, the slow cadence of his breathing, all of it draws Castiel in and brings to mind quiet revelation, the sort that comes after long hours of meditation. A more earthly kind of revelation.

A car drives past, engine gunning loudly. A nearby door slams and Dean blinks his eyes open, frowning. As he focuses on Castiel, the frown fades. "Hey you," he says, voice thick with sleep. "Watching me again?"

Perhaps it's not the sleeping so much, as it is the waking, that appeals to Castiel so much. "Yes, Dean, I am."

Dean grins, eyes crinkling at the corners. "So weird."

"Perhaps," Castiel says. He leans over to kiss Dean's forehead and Dean's eyes fall shut, lashes brushing against his cheeks. The grin lingers on his lips and Castiel loves the way sleep softens Dean's hard edges, the way it leaves him slightly muddled yet affectionate, troubles of the day forgotten.

Castiel brushes his lips over Dean's brow, presses a light kiss to Dean's temple, wanting Dean to remain free from worries a while longer. Dean nuzzles his cheek, seeking a kiss, then sighs with contentment as Castiel's lips meet his.

The kiss is easy, Dean's mouth soft and pliable under his, unlike the bruising clash of lips and teeth from earlier, when they had fallen into bed in a mad rush to climax. It's hard to resist Dean when he's like this, but it's nighttime, and Dean should sleep. Castiel withdraws, but Dean hooks an arm around his neck and pulls him back in.

"Go back to sleep, Dean." Castiel presses a kiss to Dean's cheek.

"Uh-uh." Dean rubs his lips over Castiel's jaw, then whispers in Castiel's ear. "Finish what you started."

And Castiel falls for Dean all over again. He'll always do just what Dean asks of him. He kisses Dean again, tasting his lips with a sweep of his tongue, then on to Dean's neck and Dean groans and stretches, turning his head to expose more skin. Castiel knows that if he sucks on the skin just below Dean's ear, Dean will shiver with delight, and if he scrapes his teeth along the crook of Dean's neck, Dean will moan with pleasure. Castiel has found all these things out in the dark of night, once the crazy initial rush of sex is over. He's discovered that sex can be slow and quiet, that there's more to it than racing to a fast, shuddering climax.

Castiel is committed to learning all the intricacies of Dean's body. It's only right, after all, since Dean has taught him so much about his own. There are apparently a myriad of ways one can achieve pleasure, and while Cas agrees with Dean that orgasms are indeed awesome, there are ways of seeking pleasure along the way to one.

Savoring the moment, Castiel nibbles Dean's shoulder, licks his collarbone, nuzzles Dean's throat, it's all so much easier when Dean isn't trying to do the same in return, although Castiel does find those skirmishes enjoyable in their own way.

Sometimes he even lets Dean win.

But now, Dean is compliant, at least for the moment. When Dean murmurs and reaches for Castiel, Castiel runs his hand down Dean's chest and over his stomach, slow easy circles, and every time his hand dips down low, Dean's muscles trembles beneath his skin. Castiel finally reaches down far enough to slide his fingers through Dean's rough pubic hair and over his penis and Dean lets out a sigh, moaning Castiel's name, with breathless yearning.

His hands move over Castiel's head, pushing gently. Castiel smiles. Even half-asleep Dean makes clear what he wants.

And Castiel will give Dean exactly what he wants. Eventually. Right now it's more important that he touch Dean's broad chest, mouthing Dean's nipple, sucking it gently before pushing his nose into Dean's armpit and breathing in deep, causing Dean to squirm.

"Cas," Dean says, and there's laughter behind his voice now.

Gratified, Castiel eases down the bed, pressing his lips to Dean's skin, hands reverent as they move over Dean's body. Dean spreads his legs, his knee bumping Castiel in his eagerness. So willing, so open and Castiel moves to settle in between them, kneeling before Dean, pushing the bedcovers away so he can see how Dean is stretched out before him, arms spread wide, body open and inviting. Beautiful as always, even with the neon lights dancing on his skin, highlighting the curve of muscle, exposing the lines of his ribs, the dark shadow of his navel, and just below, his penis, lying heavy on his stomach.

As Castiel simply takes it in, Dean pulls his legs up, restless with desire as he twists his hips, eager for Castiel's touch. Castiel takes a moment to rub his cheek against Dean's knee and smiles when Dean grunts with frustration.

Castiel relents, taking Dean's penis in his hand. Dean sighs with relief and pushes up into Castiel's touch and Castiel has to touch himself. So similar to Dean's and he crawls closer to Dean, his knees pushing against Dean's thighs, spreading them further apart as he holds both penises together, hands wrapped around them both. Dean lifts his head to watch, eyes dark, mouth open and panting. Castiel's own breath comes faster when Dean wraps his legs around his waist, raising his hips, sliding close and they've fucked like this, Castiel pushing his penis deep inside of Dean, making Dean moan and writhe and squeeze Castiel tight and it always ends too soon when they do it that way, no matter how long Castiel holds out.

Castiel opts for a something simpler. He gives both penises a stroke, then rubs his palm over the heads, shivering as pleasure washes over him. He eases back, lowering himself down and closes his mouth over Dean's penis.

A low groan from Dean, a jerk of his hips and Castiel loves it--warm, hard penis in his mouth and he knows just what to do with it, Dean has taught him well. He knows to slide his lips down the length of the shaft, pressing with his tongue, how to take it deep into his mouth before pulling back up again, how to swirl his tongue over the head and now Dean is making are high-pitched, desperate noises as he squirms, gently rocking his hips. Castiel is enjoying this as much as Dean, the taste of Dean on his tongue, the way Dean smells as sweat breaks out on his skin. He can feel Dean's legs tremble against his shoulders, and with a press of his hands around Dean's thighs he calms Dean. Dean goes still, panting, one hand resting on Castiel's shoulder.

Castiel takes his time, savoring the moment. Only the two of them in the darkness, no one else in the world. This is their time, when Dean is all his. The air is filled with the music of Dean's low, throaty moans, and Dean's hands restlessly touch his head. Castiel can sense each time Dean comes close to climax, and pulls Dean back from it each and every time.

"Please. Cas, please, come on." Deans' voice is a whisper, barely carrying over the sound of Castiel's own harsh breathing. And yet Castiel gives way, when Dean begs for mercy Castiel is utterly defeated. He sucks hard, bringing Dean up to the edge and this time, taking Dean over it.

With a loud moan Dean comes, body trembling and shaking as he fills Castiel's mouth. Castiel is almost there with him, he can't separate himself from Dean's climax and he manages to hold off until Dean shakily comes down from it. Immediately Castiel rises up on his knees and with a couple of firm, quick strokes, comes all over Dean's stomach, and now he's the one making all the noise.

Dean sits up, reaching for him, calling out his name. He pulls Castiel down over him and they kiss, Dean chuckling deep in his throat. His hands move tenderly over Castiel, cradling his head, moving down to his shoulders as Castiel shudders with one final wave of pleasure.

Sex, Castiel decides as he falls limp against Dean, is the very opposite of falling from grace.

After a moment to gather himself back together again, Castiel cups Dean's face, and kisses him. "So, now will you sleep?" He pretends to be weary, as if this has all been for Dean's sake.

It has the hoped-for effect; Dean laughs out loud. "Listen to you." He pulls Castiel in for another kiss. "Nope, you have to do it all over again."

Castiel heaves a loud, put-upon sigh. He's learned much from Dean.

"And you made a mess."

With a wave of his hand, Castiel wills the smeared semen away, then pulls back just to see the grin on Dean's face.

"All right, just pull up those damn blankets and I'll sleep," Dean says. "Maybe."

Castiel sits up, pulls the bed covers up and lies back down again. "Does that meet with your approval?"

Dean stretches and rearranges himself, tucking the covers in on one side. After much movement, Dean's ends up with his face pressed against Castiel's chest, his hair tickling Castiel's chin. "It'll do," Dean says, voice muffled. He slings an arm around Castiel's waist, and soon his breathing grows deep and steady.

Castiel relaxes against a pillow, watching and waiting.

***