Title: Not On My Watch
Author: martyred-wings
Rating: NC-17
Genre and/or Pairing: slash, Dean/Castiel
Spoilers: For 5x03
Warnings: m/m action
Word Count: 3399 words
Summary: Written for the following prompt posted by evdokya on deancaskinkmeme - Dean won't let Cas die a virgin on his watch. Features shy!Cas and tender!Dean. Prolongued, gentle, sweet love making (can get kinky too as long as it is in keeping with the schmoopy theme.


The old abandoned house was quiet, lonely, and the night outside was wild, promising a storm within moments. Dean leafed through his dad's journal, brow creased in a frown as he searched through the book for more information, looked up when he heard a slight noise, heels scraping against the floorboards nearby. The hunter blinked, took in the sight of Castiel standing there, looking a little confused, turning his head slightly as he took in his surroundings.

"Where have you been?" the hunter asked, gruffly, putting down the journal, forgetting it almost immediately as his eyes raked over the angel's body.

He felt the familiar stirrings of lust flutter in his stomach whenever he saw Castiel, that familiar surge of excitement that always came whenever Castiel was near. He'd seen the mirroring look in Castiel's eyes when the angel thought he wasn't looking, saw it with every time Castiel invaded his personal space, every time his eyes tracked every one of Dean's movements.

"Jerusalem," Castiel replied, attracted Dean's attention back to himself once more, pulled him from his own thoughts.

Dean's eyebrows lifted in surprise, wondered when Castiel had found time to take a holiday, before he said - "Oh? And how was it?"

"Arid," the angel replied, looked distracted, almost sad, eyes defeated as he crossed the room, placed an ancient, dusty jug upon the rickety table.

Dean's eyes travelled over the jug, confused, wondered why Castiel had even brought it here.

"What is that?" he asked the angel, gesturing towards the dusty relic in almost disgust, definite confusion.

"It's oil," Castiel replied, looked down to the floor, eyes shifting to Dean's face with that familiar sense of longing trapped deep within their blue gaze. "It's very special and very rare."

Dean watched as Castiel sat down in a vacant chair, eyes sad, longing, shoulders slumped slightly as he relaxed a little. Dean's heart fluttered, wanted to make things better for Castiel, could tell that something was wrong, something was bothering Castiel. He wanted to ask Castiel what was wrong, instead went with his usual line of snarkiness.

"Great, so we're gonna trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?" he asked, with a snort, a roll of his eyes, a slight shake of his head.

Castiel didn't look amused, just stared at Dean, large eyes seeming ever larger in his solemn face.

"No," he replied, though by the look on his face, he looked as though he wanted to say more, chose to say nothing else.

Dean waited, didn't get more of an explanation from the angel and decided to prompt him into talking more.

"So this ritual of yours? When's it gonna go down?" he asked, watching the angel closely, felt the familiar tingle and burn of want, of need travel through him, all of it for Castiel, because of him.

"Sunrise," came Castiel's solemn response.

"Tell me something – you keep saying we're gonna trap this guy, but isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?" Dean asked, snorting without any real humor.

"No, it's harder," Castiel replied, the irony of Dean‘s statement escaping him once more, gaze solemn, sad, almost dejected.

The hunter watched him, saw that there wasn't going to be any further response from him, felt like the conversation was fast going nowhere at all. It didn't help that his hormones were raging through him, distracting him from Castiel's words through the closeness of Castiel himself. Dean wanted to touch him, wanted to caress him, kiss him, wanted to feel tender lips, hands upon his mouth, his body, to know Castiel in the gentle loving sense. He sighed, didn't think that it would happen any time soon, despite how much he wanted it, wanted Castiel.

"Do we have any chance of surviving this?" Dean asked, tried to take his mind from what he really wanted to do with words, questions, hopefully responses.

"You do," Cas replied, firm, assured, direct, with a sense of sadness still trapped within his body.

Dean felt his heart stop for the briefest of moments, felt his hope die with Castiel's words, couldn't imagine what life would be like if Castiel wasn't there. He paused momentarily, prayed that Castiel would survive this coming night, so that he could truly hold him, kiss him, make love to him like he so wanted. The hunter knew that he couldn't bear to part with Castiel, couldn't face the thought that he would no longer be there, vowed to himself that he would do all that he could to save him. He blinked, tried to hide his pain from Castiel, wondered if the angel had caught his emotions anyway.

"So odds are, you're a dead man tomorrow?" Dean asked, without hope, still praying that it would turn out so differently

"Yes," Castiel replied, simply, eyes downcast for the briefest of moments, looked strangely accepting of his fate.

Dean couldn't understand that acceptance, wondered why the angel just didn't go out kicking and screaming and fighting, then realized that it wasn't Castiel's way. That's the reaction Dean himself would have had, knew he would have on behalf of Castiel, whether the angel wanted him to react that way or not.

"Wow. Well, last night on earth – what are your plans?" Dean asked him, breaking the heavy silence between them, couldn‘t stand that silence.

"I just thought I'd sit here quietly," the angel replied, turning large eyes up to Dean‘s face.

Dean's heart broke then, at the innocent look trapped within Castiel's eyes, at the way he looked up at Dean, looked so beautiful in that one instant, Dean's cock twitched with interest. He wanted to kiss him, wanted to claim his mouth with his, run hands over Castiel's body and make him moan, writhe against him, make him feel good. Instead, he stared at Castiel, lust switching to disbelief for the briefest of moments.

"Dude, come on. Anything? Booze, women?" Dean asked, tried to tempt him with something, hoped that Castiel would say no, wanted him instead.

He felt sudden hope when Castiel looked away, then realized it was due to discomfort rather than anything else. Dean swallowed past the sudden pain, sudden rejection, hadn't realized until that moment just how much he wanted, needed Castiel. He swallowed again, cleared his throat before he continued talking, hoped his pain didn't show in his voice, decided to make light of the situation instead.

"You have been with a woman before. Or an angel at least?" the hunter asked, wished that Castiel would at least look at him, so he could read his answers in the depths of his dark blue eyes.

Castiel remained silent, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. From the little he could see of Castiel's expression, Dean could tell that the angel looked embarrassed, awkward, wasn't sure what he was supposed to do or to say to Dean's words. He leant in closer, attracted the angel‘s attention back to himself again, saw the pleading look in his beautiful gaze giving him hope once more.

"You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud seeding?" Dean asked, hoped for another answer, hoped that Castiel would say he wanted him instead.

"Look, I've never had occasion, okay?" Castiel replied, still looked embarrassed, uncomfortable, on edge, tense.

Dean felt relief, feigned shock instead.

"Alright. Let me tell you something. There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not going to die a virgin. Not on my watch,." he told him, feeling hope when Castiel turned his trusting blue gaze upon his face once more. "I'll see to that."

Castiel nodded, never took his eyes from Dean's, intent, interest clear in his gaze. In that one instant Dean saw, Dean knew what Castiel wanted, who Castiel wanted, and it wasn't a woman, wasn't alcohol, wasn't even another angel. Castiel wanted him.

Dean smiled, let his interest, his intent show in his eyes, saw mirroring interest in Castiel's face, his eyes, by the way he licked at his lips as though he was suddenly turned on, hopeful. The hunter prayed quietly to himself that he wasn't wrong, that he would be rewarded for what he was about to do, and he leant forward. Castiel remained sitting there, didn't move, certainly didn't pull away, not even when Dean pressed hesitant, hopeful lips against his soft mouth.

Castiel responded, uncertain, hesitant, seemed almost shy in his movements, yet still he responded. Dean's heart leapt, pressed harder still, tried to deepen the kiss, excitement reaching a peak, but Castiel pulled away, cheeks flaming. Dean closed his eyes, groaning to himself with disappointment, thought he'd pushed this too far, too soon and had blown everything with the angel.

"Dean," Castiel said, attracted the hunter's attentions back to himself once more. "Dean, I want this, I want you, but please - go slowly."

Dean closed his eyes, threw a thank you God's way, before he gently eased Castiel from the chair he was sitting on, helped him to his feet, smiled when Castiel's eyes turned demurely to the dusty floorboards beneath their feet.

"I didn't think you - " Dean started, found he couldn't finish, didn't know how to finish his own question.

"You didn't think I wanted you? Yes, yes, I did. I do. Just, go slowly. I want this to mean something," Castiel said, eyes lifting momentarily to rest on Dean's face.

The hunter caressed Castiel's cheek, smiled when he felt the angel lean into his touch, a slight smile touching his lips, while his cheeks remained pink with demure embarrassment.

"Oh, this will mean something - to me, too," Dean promised, knew that this was one promise he couldn't break.

He wanted this too much, wanted Castiel too much and had wanted to make love to Castiel for a very long time to blow this now, to rush through this and to not make it enjoyable for them both. He led the angel to the nearest couch, tried to brush the dust from the cushions, failed and instead laid his jacket for Castiel to lay upon. He turned, slowly pulled Castiel's coat from his shoulders, dropping gentle, tender kisses to the angel's mouth, his cheeks, his mouth again as he slowly removed his tie. He dropped the tie to the floor, started work on unbuttoning Castiel's shirt, helped him from the white material slowly.

Dean passed eyes over Castiel's chest, over his abdomen, found he liked what he saw, liked the smooth, baby soft tanned skin, ran appreciative hands over tender flesh, before he dropped a kiss to Castiel's shoulder. The angel watched him, uncertain, awkward, yet still responsive when Dean's hands dropped to his belt, unbuckled it, eyes going wide when he realized what was going to happen.

His eyes rested pleadingly on Dean's face, and Dean stopped, pulled his hands away almost guiltily.

"We don't have to do this, Cas," he offered, hated himself for offering, wanted the angel too much to just stop now. "I am gonna have to take your pants off before anything happens."

Castiel swallowed, nodded, cheeks pink once more.

"Yes, Dean," he said, quietly.

Dean didn't take his eyes from Castiel's face as he unbuckled the angel's belt, watched as Castiel's eyes slowly drifted closed, lips parting in sudden approval when he felt the brush and sweep of Dean's hands across his skin, tracing patterns over his ass tenderly. His large eyes opened, looked interested once more, wondrous, and the hunter couldn't help but see the first tendrils of lust coil through Castiel's eyes. He smiled, caught a smile in return from Castiel, before he encouraged the angel to step from his own pants, to kick his shoes away first.

Castiel did as he'd been asked, turned large eyes to Dean's once more, before they closed, lips parted into a ripely kissable shape when he felt Dean slowly pull his boxers from trembling, slim hips. Dean couldn't resist, - he leant forward, claimed the kiss from the angel's mouth, felt encouraged when he kissed him back more fervently than he had before.

The hunter stepped away, watched as Castiel looked down at his own body, shifted awkwardly at the erection straining towards his abdomen. Dean smiled, took it for the good sign that it was, stripped off his own clothes slowly, and let them fall to the floor beside Castiel's. His own cock was hard, erect, standing proud from his body and he saw Castiel's eyes rest upon his erection, eyes growing wider with lust rather than fright.

Dean reached for Castiel once more, led him to the couch, watched while the angel laid down upon it, sneezing suddenly against the sudden up drift of dust motes from beneath him. Dean leant down, kissed the angel gently, before he left his side, went to his bag laying haphazard beneath the table, and searched through it.

He couldn't find the lube he wanted, eyes suddenly resting upon the jug left unattended upon the table's surface. He thought, decided to hell with it and poured some of the oil into his hand, smoothing the liquid over his fingers. He blinked, surprised at the warmth and the sudden heady burst of spiciness that wafted up from the jar; a scent that he hadn't noticed before.

He turned, saw Castiel still watching him, legs stretched before him, his cock fully erect now and curling towards his abdomen. He seemed uncertain when he met Dean's gaze, yet there was still the unmistakable display of need trapped deep within his gaze, by the way his eyes travelled readily over Dean's body, the way he licked his lips.

Dean closed the distance between them, still carrying the jug in one oily hand, set it upon the floor at his feet, before he gently encouraged Castiel to open his legs wider. Castiel looked a little panicked, still did as he'd asked, watched as Dean settled in between his legs, a purling mewl of sudden want easing past sensuous lips when he felt Dean's weight upon him. Dean's eyes fluttered closed, and he paused, waited while Castiel shifted beneath him, getting more comfortable, upon the dusty couch.

Dean reached down between their bodies, fingers brushing against Castiel's erection purposefully, made the angel's eyes grow wide as his mouth opened in a soundless pout of arousal. His eyes locked on Dean's, begged him to carry on when Dean paused, and the hunter smiled tenderly. He leant down, pressed calming lips upon Castiel's plump lips, kept on kissing him while his fingers stroked across the angel's tight ring of muscles, played across and between his ass cheeks gently. Castiel whimpered, the first noise he'd made since this had started, whimpers growing louder when Dean started to ease one finger inside his tight hole.

Dean stopped, watched Castiel carefully, as the angel shifted uncomfortably beneath him, eyes wide, lips trembling in discomfort as his muscles clamped tight around Dean, tried to restrict him from gaining entrance. Dean waited, kissed Castiel in tiny kitten like pecks, waited until he felt Castiel settle down around him, muscles gradually relaxing around his finger, against his hand. The angel squirmed slightly, eyes going wide when he felt Dean's finger rub inside him, a glazed expression of pleasure brightening his eyes. Dean felt encouraged by that look, pressed his finger further in, ever watchful for pain, fearful of hurting Castiel. The angel spread his legs wider, wider still, back arching up from the couch into Dean's body, as his whimpers turned into loud purling mewls, eyes closed against the pleasure coursing through him.

His eyes flew open when he felt Dean's finger press against his prostate, rub across its muscled surface tenderly, lips parting into perfect pouting "o" of surprised pleasure. He turned to Dean, pleading, caught Dean's smile of reassurance, smiled back as he cried out with pleasure as another pass of Dean's finger made him feel good.

Dean caught his lower lip between his teeth, worked gently at easing his lover open, kissing him tenderly whenever he felt Castiel clench tightly against him in sudden discomfort. He pressed in another finger, loosened his hole up wider still, breath catching in his throat at the awkward sounds of arousal falling from Castiel's mouth, encouraging him to continue, carefully. Finally, Dean eased his fingers from Castiel's body, deciding that the angel was loose enough, before he slicked more of the oil over his own cock gently.

He watched Castiel's face, tinged with aroused red now rather than embarrassed pink, watched his face change as he eased his oil slick cock into the angel's tight entrance. He felt Castiel clench against his cock, so much larger than his fingers had been and he waited until Castiel had settled against him once more, relaxed, more open and receptive towards him.

Dean sheathed himself fully inside Castiel, groaning at the exquisite feel of Castiel's tight heat surrounding his cock, so warm, inviting, so much better than he could ever imagined he'd feel like. His mind blanked, felt nothing but sheer pleasure as he moved gently inside Castiel, tried to pace himself for the sake of the inexperienced angel.

Castiel's body arched into his with every thrust, every movement, hands scrabbling at Dean's back helplessly, as pleasured cries fell from aroused angelic lips. Dean watched him, eyes resting upon Castiel laid bare before him, beautiful, flushed, aroused, mouth gaping and giving voice to such beautiful whimpers of need, it made Dean ache for him. He slowed down, felt his time drawing near, didn't want to thrust harder into Castiel than necessary. He kissed the angel's sweaty jaw, guided Castiel's hand to his own dick, encouraged him with gentle murmurs to touch himself.

The angel started stroking his own cock, wrist snapping against his straining erection, cries growing louder as he writhed beneath the hunter. Dean picked up the pace again, eyes blind, felt nothing but the exquisite feel of Castiel beneath him, his tight warmth, the sound of his cries, his whimpers, his purrs of arousal. He felt Castiel's come spurt over his abdomen, hot, wet, sticky, perfect, heard his voice screaming for him, before Dean finally let himself orgasm, spurted his come inside the angel, crying out for Castiel insistently.

Their bodies continued to writhe, gently slowing, before they were left, staring at one another, breathing harsh, faces sweaty, red, tongues sweeping out over lower lips in matching gestures of aroused approval. Dean slowly eased his dick from Castiel's hole, settled the angel against his body, smiled when he felt Castiel slip his arms around his waist.

They lay in silence, neither wanting to break the silence between them, stared into each other's eyes, felt love settle out over them. Dean smiled more to himself than to cCastiel, thought to himself that it took the angel's last night to finally bring them together, to finallygive them both what they wanted - each other.

"Dean," Cstiel said. " Dean, if I make it through the night, let's not make this the last time."

Dean blinked in surprise, then he laughed.

"Oh no, I wasn't going to let that be the last time, Cas," he said, still laughing, caressing Castiel's face with one outstretched finger. "And you are going to make it through the night - I'll see to that. I'd rather die than see you die."

Castiel smiled, before he leant forward, claimed a kiss from Dean's mouth, silken lips working against Dean's own. Dean had dreamt of this moment for a long time, had wanted this, couldn't believe that it had finally happened. He knew that he'd treasure this moment for a long time to come, was glad that it finally happened, was glad that he was Castiel's first. He would make sure that he was his only one, too.

As if echoing Dean's thoughts, Castiel murmured - "I'm glad you were my first, Dean. I don't want anyone else. I never have."

Dean's eyes closed, one tear slid from between his eyelashes, couldn't imagine how good those words made him feel.

"I don't want anyone else but you either. Not ever again, Cas," he replied, eyes locking with Castiel's once more.

They didn't speak again, just laid there, touching, kissing, until it was time to make their move to face Raphael ....