Dean’s hand remained warm and strong against Castiel’s jaw.  The other man lifted his chin, grin wicked and sweet.  “Cas, unless you want to leave, I’m not letting go of you.  Ever.”  He leaned in, kissing Castiel with soft, gentle lips.  “I told you before:  I don’t care how we got here.  I’m just glad we did.”  He stroked his thumb along the edge of Castiel’s jaw.  “I know that you lied.  I also know why you lied.  But I don’t care.” 

     “You should though,” Castiel protested.  Still with the mouth.  And the words.  Dammit.