Chapter Text
It didn't happen often, but every time they thought that a hunt together may be their last, Cas and Dean would crash their mouths together and hold each other tight, afraid that the other may slip between their fingers before they even had a chance to say good bye.
They kissed the most in Purgatory, when they were surrounded by abominations and fought tooth and claw. Then one last time before Cas pushed Dean into he portal to go as Leviathan surrounded them. Dean was heart-broken over losing him and couldn't accept what happened, replaying the same scene over and over again, warping it to where he was the one to let go rather than Cas.
The next time they kissed, they were about to face the bad bitch Abaddon.
Cas had curled Dean's shirt collar in his hands and pressed him up against a wall, mouth never escaping Dean's in the nearest abandoned room. The mark burned and itched under Dean's skin, calling out to the blade and searching for blood. But Dean didn't want to think about the blade or Abaddon or saving the world. He just wanted Cas in his arms while he still had him there.
Dean snaked his hands up and down Cas' sides under his dress shirt, sucking on Cas' bottom lip and making the once angel, then man, then angel again gasp. Man, their lives were complicated, but Dean stopped thinking about that when he felt Cas grind onto his thigh and pressing himself even closer to Dean's chest.
Dean grunted and pulled away, only to have his neck attacked by Cas' mouth, sucking little marks here and there.
When Cas brought his head back up, Dean couldn't help but stare into those blue eyes that used to belong to an honest man who was being hosted by an ethereal being and didn't know what he was getting himself into. But now those eyes belonged to Cas - how they drooped sadly at the mention of his brothers and sisters, how they glistened when he smiled, how distant they were when Cas was thinking too hard and too deep, and how they stared into Dean's very being, like Cas could see Dean's soul and loved it no matter what state it was in.
They held their gaze like that before Cas broke away and straightened his shirt. "We should be going," he says, reaching out for his bag. Dean nodded and attempted at fixing his hair a little, only able to get the front tuff to get back where it was while the back was still mussed.
As Dean reached for the door handle, he was stopped by a hand gripping his wrist firmly. Cas pulled their hands to his chest and studied Dean's face for a moment before leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on Dean's lips and releasing Dean's hand, opening the door, and walking out.