[ If he thinks on it, he can just remember the smell of Cas' hands, the way stale smoke always curled around his aura, lingering in his hair, his clothes, invading Dean's nose, sending his heart thumping in his chest; again and again and again - the repetitive motion rattling against his ribs, his breath too loud, the way it fills his lungs and echoes in his head.

All Dean wants is the touch of lips and warmth of Cas against him, and he's easily manipulated, fingers pushed under Cas' palms, tracing up the planes of muscle and bone, over his spine, sweeping over as directed, shifting closer, his mouth opening under rushed kisses, helpless to it; breathy, needy. ]

Please stay. [ It's whispered, begged; Dean breathes him in, memorizing the new scents, replacing stale smoke and liquor with ozone and fresh earth, the pads of his fingers pressing against Cas' back, resolve faltering as he caves, fallible as always. ]

Stay with me. Cas, please. I just want you. I want what we had, I feel like I'm missing a part of me, like it's some piece of a puzzle I've lost.