Title: The Skies Above
Author: martyred-wings
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Dean/Castiel
Warnings: SPOILERS, sex on the hood of the Impala.
Word Count: 1885 words
Summary: Dean sat at the wooden picnic table, head bowed, eyes squinting in the sun that angled down from the sky.


Dean sat at the wooden picnic table, head bowed, eyes squinting in the sun that angled down from the sky. He lifted his head, watched Sam as his brother walked slowly away, shoulders slumped as though with some internal struggle, internal pain. Dean thought about calling him back, was just about to do so, but kept his mouth shut, didn't call his brother back.

He'd meant what he'd said, when he'd agreed to Sam's suggestion that they go their separate ways, was tired of worrying over Sam when he should have been worrying about the hunt, the upcoming Apocalypse, even Castiel himself, outcast from Heaven and cut off from much of Heaven's power. He had enough on his plate without worrying about Sam, worrying over his craving for demon blood, his confession that he missed drinking blood.

Dean watched Sam hitch a ride with a nearby vacationer, watched as his brother rode away, not knowing when he would see his brother again. He didn't think the separation was permanent. Maybe some day in the future they would meet up once more; maybe once this was all over, they could re-build their flagging relationship. That was sometime in the future, not now.

He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, felt the beginnings of a headache form behind his eyes. Flashes of the day that had passed skittered through his mind's eye, of arriving in a seemingly deserted town with the intent to find and help Rufus, finding Ellen Harvelle first. He caught glimpses of people with black eyes, his brother standing over two dead teenagers, blood dripping from the knife he still held in one large hand.

He blinked, caught the memory of behind locked up with the remaining towns people, remembered vividly the frightened face of a pregnant female, clutching her stomach protectively. He saw again the face of War, the first of the Four Horsemen, saw again his red Mustang, the ring he still had safely held deep in his pocket that War had used to control the townspeople. He blinked again, saw Bobby still at the hospital, grouchy, barely speaking from the confines of his wheelchair, Castiel arriving to borrow his amulet to help him in his search for God.

Dean sighed again, wanted to go to sleep for a while, to forget it all, even for a few hours. He was tired, tired of it all, wanted peace, knew that he wouldn't get it for quite some time to come. His fingers stroked the front of his t shirt, skimmed against the place where his amulet should have rested, thought once more of Castiel taking it from him.

Despite Dean's insistence that Castiel not lose the amulet, he knew that the angel wouldn't. He knew that Castiel would bring it back to him, drape it round his neck once more, would return to his side, just as he always did without fail. He wished that Castiel was here with him now.

He was still sitting there as the sun went down, slowly setting against the distant horizon, light slowly leaking behind the trees, dimming the sky above him. He was alone, still sitting at that lonely wooden picnic table, backed by tree covered hills to the back, a large swathe of deserted ground around him. The silence was perfect, absolute, except for unseen birds, rustles of animals large and small moving through the undergrowth nearby.

A shrill sound cut the air; a sound Dean didn't recognize at first, soon remembered it was his own cell phone. He pulled it free from the depths of his jacket pocket, replied, hoping it was Sam, soon realized it was Castiel asking where he was. Dean told him, heard Castiel disconnect, waited until the angel appeared standing across the deserted ground some distance away.

Dean looked up and over at him, smiled sadly at the way that Castiel stood there, looking so fragile, worn, almost sad. Then he saw Castiel's back straighten, shoulders became firmer, as though Castiel was bracing himself against his own misfortune, that he'd blamed Dean and Sam for in the hospital. Deep down, Dean wondered if maybe the angel was right. Despite his own circumstances, things must have been so much worse for Castiel, cut off from Heaven, cut off from his own powers after thousands of years of being one of the most graceful and powerful beings to walk the Earth, to dwell in Heaven.

Dean stood, walked over to meet Castiel, smiled slightly when the angel's large blue eyes met his, gaze as intent as ever.

"I'm sorry, Cas," Dean said, reaching out to lay a hand on Castiel's shoulder, expected him to pull away, was instantly gratified when he did not.

"For what?" Castiel asked, but Dean could see by the look in Castiel's eyes that he knew.

Castiel was far from stupid after all. He was more aware of things than Dean was, even in the shadowy half life he was in right now.

"Back in the hospital, you were right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen, none of it. Least of all, I didn't expect you to be cast out from Heaven. If I could take any of this back, I would. For you," Dean said, gaze averted, sadness suddenly slouching his shoulders.

Castiel reached up, laid his hand upon Dean's where it still rested on the angel's shoulder, and the hunter flinched, expected Castiel to brush his hand away on disgust, reject him. Instead, Castiel's fingers were gentle, caressing, forgiving.

"I know you would. It doesn't help me much, now, but I know you would," Castiel said, gently, his voice gruff in the otherwise silent air.

"So now what?" Dean asked, raising his eyes to meet Castiel's, eyes locking, gaze transfixed by the beauty held within the other man's gaze.

"We fight. We find God. What other choice have we got now, but to do that?" Castiel replied, a slight frown creasing his forehead, drawing his eyebrows closer together. "This doesn't change things. Between us."

Castiel reached up, laid his hand gently against Dean's cheek, fingers trembling with some emotion that Dean didn't recognise, could only guess at. He turned his face, kissed Castiel's palm gently, eyes closed as a smile flitted across his lips, relief evident in the set of his body. Where he'd expected rejection, he'd received acceptance, forgiveness instead. He was grateful for that, at least. In a world that had gone to Hell in a hand basket around his very ears, at least he knew he still had Castiel, knew his love for Dean remained as strong as it ever did.

Dean's eyes opened once more, as he felt Castiel's hand move against his cheek, move further down, to trace his thumb across Dean's lower lip. Dean remained silent, breathless, transfixed by Castiel as the angel's eyes remained intent on Dean's mouth. Dean licked out, the tip of his tongue catching Castiel's thumb as he dragged it across Dean's lip once more, made the angel whimper slightly at even that brief contact.

Dean licked again, caught Castiel flicking his gaze towards his, need evident in his eyes, by the way his breath was rasping in his throat. He leant forward, caught Castiel's mouth in a kiss, felt the angel's soft lips work against his own, tongues meeting, licking one against the other, as they kissed. Purling mewls of need worked free from both hunter's and angel's throats as they kissed, hands caressing against each other's bodies hungrily. If all else failed, then at least they had each other, would always have each other, would always have each other's love, without fear, without question, without doubt.

Dean manoeuvred Castiel onto the hood of his Impala, settled his body between Castiel's spread legs, ground his hips against the angel's groin to indicate his interest, his intent, his needs. Castiel cried out, pleasure, arousal clear in his wordless cry, his hips rising from the hood of the car to meet Dean's, erection clear in the failing light.

The hunter stripped him of his pants hastily, slicked his fingers by sucking them deep within his own mouth, before he teased Castiel by stroking across his tight ring of exposed muscles, easing inside Castiel, slowly, waited for the angel to slowly relax against his hand. He pushed further in, made Castiel squirm against the hood of the Impala, hands grappling uselessly at the shiny metal, cries filling the air around him, growing tighter, louder, the more aroused he became.

Dean eased his hole wider by adding another finger, eyes closed halfway as he found Castiel's prostate, stroked across its muscled surface as his dick ached within his jeans. He quickly unbuckled his belt with his free hand, unzipped his jeans, before pushing the heavy material down, let them fall to his ankles, his boxers soon joining them.

He eased his fingers from out of Castiel's hole, spat in his hand, spat again, before he spread the saliva hastily across his straining dick. He parted Castiel's legs wider, pressed his dick against Castiel's hole, saw the angel's face grow taut with intense arousal as he eased his dick slowly inside his angel. He covered Castiel's body with his own, sheathed himself fully inside Castiel's tight velvet warmth, started thrusting into him eagerly, hands clutching convulsively at the angel's legs surrounding his hips.

He felt Castiel's heels digging into his naked ass, felt him apply pressure as though he wanted Dean to thrust harder. He complied, strangled cries falling from his open mouth as he fucked into him harder, made Castiel cry out in aroused pleasure at the intense emotions coursing through him, consuming him as he responded eagerly to Dean.

The angel's hands convulsed against the hood of the car, felt Dean pound into him roughly, friction sending small starbursts of pleasure coursing through him to explode behind his eyes, into his erect dick to settle there, throbbing, insistent. He wrapped eager fingers around his erection, stroked himself hard, kept his strokes in time with Dean's thrusts, until his orgasm raced through him, unstoppable, intense, and he released himself into his furiously stroking hand, spurting across Dean's partially exposed abdomen in wet streaks.

Dean heard Castiel cry out unintelligibly, felt his come across his abdomen, felt Castiel tighten around his dick, tried to hold back but couldn't. His orgasm claimed him, raced through him, and he filled the angel with his thick release, hips still thrusting into him as he rode out the last of his orgasm, screaming for the angel without cease. He felt Castiel's arms around him, felt the angel press warm, soft lips against his cheek, heard a murmured, heartfelt - "I love you!" - in his ear.

Dean turned his head, kissed Castiel full on his soft mouth, before he pulled away, said - "I love you, too, Cas. I always will."

He felt Castiel's lips press against his once more, body shifting against his, sending thrills of pleasure shifting through him from where his dick was still sheathed inside the angel. They continued to kiss, Dean's fingers digging into Castiel's thighs, as they moaned their love into each other's open wet mouths beneath the stars just starting to spread across the skies above ...