What You Deserve

Chapter Three

From here on I have to give thanks to my new beta angel FionaLaFleur! 

Now, let's see how Cas reacts to that unexpected kiss we ended on last time, shall we! I'd love to hear your thoughts!! <3

~oOo~oOo~oOo~

It was hard and uncoordinated. Dean heard how Cas released a surprised grunt as he was dragged forward, but his lips felt chapped and soft and perfect. Dean couldn't help but close his eyes, savouring the contact, engraving every detail to memory so he could add it to his collection, revisit it later when this was over and he'd be alone again.

The wall in his back was cold, but Cas was warm, a solid weight against Dean's chest that he clung to as if his life depended on it, hands fisted tightly in the lapels of that stupid, beautiful trenchcoat. Dean wanted to melt into him, wanted to crawl into that softness and warmth and build a home there, right against the sound of Cas' beating heart. He felt perfect against his lips, perfect against his body, warm and alive and right there - but Cas wasn't moving.

He had stayed perfectly still, body stiff, mouth closed and unresponsive against Dean's insistent lips.

Dean retreated. His eyes opened. His hands unclenched, leaving crumpled fabric in their wake.

He stared at Cas with wide eyes, slightly panting, desperate and scared for a reaction.

"Dean, you're drunk", was what Cas said, his tone low and steady and...empty. His eyes were big, his lips slightly swollen. Dean could have cried from how beautiful he was.

But his expression was blank.

Dean felt his chest contract painfully, enough that he was sure his heart would be smashed into pieces, leaving sharp, pointed fragments to slice and carve him from the inside out until there was nothing left but empty space.

"'M not that drunk", was all he could mumble, watched as Cas lifted a hand, finally moving, two fingers reaching out, just hovering in front of his forehead.

"Let me", Cas said, and it was so soft Dean couldn't stand it. He had to close his eyes when the fingers touched him, like a gentle caress, sparks of cool grace flowing into his body and removing the last traces of alcohol from his system. Then they were gone, the grace and the fingers, and Dean could breathe again.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah." Dean swallowed hard. "Thanks."

Cas nodded sadly, and then he turned. Even though everything in his body seemed to hurt, Dean still found himself reaching out, longing to be closer.

"Hey." Dean's hand hovered uselessly in the air between them for a second, drawing it back was an act of willpower. "Where're you going?"

Cas stood, gave him a small smile.

"It's fine, Dean. You can just go back inside. And I..." He sighed, and it sounded like a great effort. "I'll go home."

Home? What did he mean go home?

"Home...with..."

With him? Not with him, please, not after-

"Home to the bunker", Cas clarified, and the relief flooding Dean dimmed the pain in his chest for a moment.

"You can't", he said. "I drove us."

Cas nodded.

"I'll get a cab."

"Bullshit, man."

Dean knew he couldn't let him out of his sight now. Looking at Cas was the only thing that was keeping Dean from falling apart at the seams. He wouldn't have wanted to stay anyway. There was nothing left for him here.