They’re bloody and bruised and more than a little bit battered when Cas grabs Dean’s shirt in one fist, yanks him in close. They’re breathing hard, a miracle in itself, Dean’s skin prickling like a thousand needles of light are itching to get out and Cas is just looking at him, like he can’t believe they made it and they’re still alive and everything–everything they’ve been fighting for, all of it, it’s over now and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with that. Dean gets it. 

“Hey,” he half-laughs, half-sobs, and his hand comes up to Cas’s jaw automatically, “We fuckin’ did it, man.”

“Yes, we did.” Cas’s eyes are so bright, smiling, a little wet maybe but that’s okay. Their foreheads bump lightly and Dean feels delirious, dazed, when he moves his hand to the back of Cas’s head and slides his fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“I really wanna kiss you,” he whispers, his nose already skimming over Cas’s cheekbone, Cas’s breath warm and damp on his face. “I mean I always want to kiss you, but right now it’s like–Jesus, I want you so bad I can hardly think.”

“Dean,” Cas moans softly and that’s pretty much all it takes to get Dean to push forward, to suck a little on Cas’s lower lip and slide one hand under his shirt and okay so they stopped the world ending, again, and Sam is probably looking for them and they’ve got a shit ton of cleaning up to do–but Dean’s finally got Cas’s tongue in his mouth so all of that can damn well wait.