Kidnap an Angel

Dean almost didn’t expect to see him. Not today. Not on the anniversary of his mother’s death. But then again, the man is an angel, so it must be in the job description to comfort the poor sobs you save from Hell.
“Dean Winchester,” Castiel said with the same courteous nod he always gave him. “How are you doing today?” There, the required question Dean was expecting.
“I’m fine,” Dean replied. Because that’s what you’re supposed to say, right? When people ask you how you’re doing just out of requirement. Castiel sat down on the bed Dean was laying on, right next to him.
“Are you really?” Castiel’s eyes connected with Dean, and they were full of worry. Dean didn’t know what to make of that. Tears slipped out of his eyes and he tried to put it off as trying to wipe something small and flaky out of his eye.
“I’ve… been better, Cas.” Normally, the angel let Dean know his distaste for the given nickname, but not today. He merely got closer to the older Winchester boy.
“What is wrong, Dean? You miss your mother, don’t you?” Castiel’s comforting expression tore Dean’s heart apart. He started weeping, not caring whether it made the angel uncomfortable. It didn’t.
“Not just that. It’s Sammy… Ever since you brought me back from Hell, Cas, he’s so distant. Always off with that demon bitch.” Again, Castiel did not scold him like he normally would have for swearing. “I’m his brother Cas, his older brother. I raised him!” Castiel quietly listened to Dean’s confession. After Dean said nothing for a few minutes but continued crying, Castiel leaned closer and wiped the tears off of Dean’s face.
“Crying does not suit you, Dean Winchester.” And the way that Castiel looked at Dean at that moment. Oh, that did it. Dean threw his arms around Castiel and bawled like a baby. Castiel held Dean and ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, trying to reassure him. If Dean had been watching himself in his normal state, he would’ve kicked his own ass for being a wimp and clinging to a guy. Then why did Castiel feel so warm, and so… right?
Dean felt his crying begin to subside as he just snuggled closer to Castiel’s chest. Castiel’s hand dropped to Dean’s cheek and his thumb caressed Dean’s tear stained cheek. He cupped both sides of Dean’s face, and slowly, as to not hurt him, brought Dean’s face to be level with his own. Castiel was stronger than he looked, but still gentle at the same time. Their eyes interlocked and Dean found himself begging Castiel for a kiss wordlessly. Somehow, Castiel knew. When their lips touched, Dean thought he would explode from happiness. Castiel had always put Dean at ease just by appearing suddenly next to him.
The way Castiel kissed excited Dean in ways beyond sexual. Dean could tell Castiel had not kissed a person in many years, maybe even never, and it made the kiss all the more innocent and pure. And the way Castiel continued to stroke Dean’s cheek as their kissing intensified… Dean had //never// felt more comfortable than he did now, not even with his brother. Castiel’s tongue quickly flitted out and tasted Dean’s plump lower lip, effectively bringing Dean out of his thoughts. Dean felt himself smiling into Castiel’s lips as the angel gave him one last lingering kiss. Castiel pulled back to look at the flustered, but beaming Dean.
“Dean Winchester. You make me feel things that no angel should feel.” Dean flinched. Was Castiel going to chastise him now? Castiel smiled, however, something Dean had never seen before. “And for that, I am glad.” The door to the motel suddenly slammed. Dean whipped around to see his brother holding brown bags to his chest.
“Hey, Dean, I’ve got the beer.” Dean turned back around, hoping to see Castiel still there, but sadly, the angel is long gone. His imprint on the mattress is still there and Dean can still picture his beautiful smiling face.