It was the day of extraction, and both Dean and Cas were giddy with it.

Though their safe area was on the bigger side, a circle was still a circle, and both of them had been feeling a bit jittery for the past few days. The thoughts of home had filled their conversations the closer they got to this day.

They had tried to hunt another wild boar, but the ones they had half a chance to kill had been much too big. In the end, they'd settled for the surprising variety of fruits, and steeped mint-flavored tea from a balderjan plant.

 

Dean and Cas strapped their GoPros to their heads obediently and shook the hands of the camera people. They wouldn't be following them this time around. A round of pats on the back for good luck, a few words of encouragement, and the survivalists said goodbye to the place that had kept them safe for three weeks. Dean wasn't sure if he was going to miss it.

Castiel had taken the time and effort to gather some large, sturdy leaves and flexible, young bark of a tree to fashion together a poncho for Dean’s shoulders, to protect him from the sun for the time they’d be unable to find shade and Dean was sure to burn again. Calling it his superhero cape, Dean had watched as long, thick but expertly nimble fingers had sewed it together, and had been almost speechless from the thoughtfulness alone. His actions had once again spoken louder than his words.

They put their heads together to look at the map once again. The paper was crumpled and the edges were worn by having been on the bottom of Cas's satchel for all this time, being pummeled by fruit and roots and whatever had been carried in it for three weeks straight. Still, the map bore the 'X' they had come here to conquer, and were so close to achieving it.

With a final look back, they started the twenty-two mile hike across the woodlands. Even Dean’s feet had been toughened enough during their time here that he honestly didn’t mind, though he did kind of still miss his boots.

 

“What's the first thing you're going to do when you get home?” Cas asked, continuing a sort of game they had been playing; you had to give a different answer every time a question about going home was asked.

“Take Baby for a drive. She's been trapped under a tarp for way too long,” Dean smiled wistfully, throwing a glance at Cas under hooded eyes. “Don't get me wrong, she's a beauty, but she's thirsty. What about you?”

“Eat a cheeseburger.” The answer came quick enough that it had to have been instinctual.

“That's not fair, you've already used that.”

“That question was about what I'm going to eat first when I get home.”

“It's still cheating”, Dean admonished, nudging Cas as they walked side by side.

Cas nudged him back with a lopsided smirk, “Technically it isn't since it's an entirely different question.”

“You're impossible.”

“I’m incorrigible. There’s a difference,” Cas smirked and winked, leaving the innuendo hanging in the air.

 

Hearing it coming from afar, they stopped to turn their gazes to the skies and watched how a helicopter chop-chop-chopped above them, someone waving out the open door, and they waved back. As it came closer, Cas, in the teaching tone he sometimes just loved to adapt, an occupational hazard, and which never failed to make Dean smirk at the nerd warm heartedly, Cas informed that the flying vehicle was a Bell 505.

They were energized, urged on by the realization that the aircraft was getting footage of the very end of their journey.

If they could keep up their pace, with minimal breaks, they'd be done in nine hours, even barefoot and on the unforgiving terrain.

 

After long yet entertaining hours in good company, Dean was in the midst of singing his best friend Charlie's praises, how she'd programmed an awesome car tuning software for the garage, when Cas stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Look,” Cas pointed something out in the distance. “Is that…?”

In the distance, a huge black SUV came trundling down a dirt road, dust billowing in its wake.

Dean grabbed Cas in an excited embrace with a whoop, lifting him by the waist and trying to spin him around, but the guy was heavier than he looked, all the runner’s muscle weighing in Dean’s arms in a way that made him momentarily forget where they were.Cas's arms wrapped around Dean's neck just as tightly, and they spent a moment swaying alarmingly, nearly tilting over, having grown so comfortable in their nakedness it wasn’t even a thing. 

Dean felt like his face was splitting in half, he was grinning so hard, and when he pulled back, Cas seemed elated too, those astonishingly blue eyes shining and his radiant smile showing every single laugh line on his face, white teeth and gums showing. Dean nearly melted at the sight.

Dean squeaked indignantly and laughed breathlessly, doubling over to hang his head over Cas’s shoulder when Cas lifted him off his feet in turn.

Once Cas put him down, his radiant smile was enough for Dean to swoop in, Cas's GoPro tossed away and dropped to the ground when it collided with Dean's. His lips were on Cas's, quick kisses full of teeth clacking together by accident since they couldn’t stop giggling and kissing, heady with the confirmation that this was really happening.

They came apart when the car stopped and a woman walked over, bottles of water in her hands. She introduced herself as Naomi, a producer of the show, and didn’t seem overly impressed watching the pair whoop, overjoyed from winning this thing, and Dean shaking his water bottle like it were champagne, pouring half of it on Cas’s head. 

Laughing his ass off, Cas shook his head, sending water droplets everywhere and grabbed Dean’s face between his large hands, planting one more, very wet kiss on his lips.

They'd made it. Just like that. The mood was celebratory, fucking unreal . Dean’s head was spinning and he couldn’t stop touching Cas, ending up walking to the car with their arms linked by their elbows, Dean’s Leafman cape barely holding on, forgotten.

 

The ride to the production HQ took about two hours, during which time they were relieved of their cameras and microphones disguised as necklaces. It seemed like magic to see buildings and even a gaggle of tourists, since for all they knew about the world outside their own, Cas hadn't been taught to prepare for the apocalypse for nothing and the world had really ended, and they and the camera crew were the only ones left in the world.

Once they arrived at the glorified cabin, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, they were escorted to a room which held two cots with actual sheets and soft looking pillows, Cas's luggage and Dean's duffel, filled with stuff they'd brought from civilization.

A new cameraman had started following them around, and Dean couldn't help his irritation building. This dude was up their asses and not in the fun way, compared to the distance they'd had with the crew at the camp.

They were shown the bathroom, complete with an actual shower, but after relieving themselves, the shower had to wait since there was the table . A true table of plenty; Pretzels, jelly beans, hot fries and ketchup, cartons of orange juice, a jug of chocolate milk, Cheetos, and were those PB and J sandwiches? All things they’d listed they might like to have once they got back from their ordeal.

Cas made a beeline for the peanut butter and jelly like he'd never seen food before, while Dean hovered over the table, unable to decide where to start. He grabbed a handful of Cheetos and stuffed them into his mouth, groaning at the salty taste after way too many fucking fruits. He crammed a few fries in, too, and turned to Cas, giving him a huge grin, the food bulging his cheeks like a chipmunk's.

Beaming, Cas reached to brush some crumbs off Dean's jaw and bit into his sandwich again. Cas’s eyes fluttered closed. “I've missed these.”

 

The hot water streaming on Dean's back was heavenly. The scent of soap went to his head when he started scrubbing himself squeaky clean for the first time in three weeks.

He made sure every nook and cranny was thoroughly washed, going his entire body over three times before he was satisfied. Stepping out of the shower, with a smidgen of guilt, he hoped there was still enough hot water for Cas, too.

The towel was just on the right side of coarse, and Dean rubbed himself until he was bright pink and sufficiently dry. He turned to the mirror and unzipped his toiletry bag, rummaging for his shaving kit, and went to work. Three weeks worth of beard was waiting to be dealt with, and he couldn't wait to look like himself again. Spraying a dollop of shaving cream on his palm, he got to work.

 

Cas slipped through the door as soon as Dean got out of the bathroom, shutting it to his face. Shrugging, Dean went to dress himself and found that the cornucopia table had sprouted a couple bottles of beer.

He dug a pair of soft-worn jeans and a Metallica t-shirt out of his duffel and didn't really give a rat's ass that they smelled a bit musty. They could air out while he was wearing them. After donning his attire, he rubbed his hands together and went to grab a beer. The first sip slid down his throat like ambrosia. 

His clothes, on the other hand, felt pretty fucking weird on him.

Cas came back in the room and Dean's brain forgot he was drinking from his bottle, frozen in place, save for swallowing hard.

Wearing jeans and a powder blue t-shirt, his face shaved and clean, his usually wild hair sticking up even crazier where he has been rubbing it dry, Cas was a sight to behold.

Dean tried to adjust himself discreetly and glared venomously at the cameraman following them around.

They were served a light dinner in the kitchen. Food that Dean would have normally deemed boring since it was designed not to upset their stomachs after three weeks of sustaining on so little, but he devoured every morsel and almost licked the plate clean.

Soon afterwards Cas yawned widely, and a producer told them they were free to go to bed. Their part was done. There would be no more cameras up their business from this moment on, the production had gotten everything they wanted from the contestants. 

The official part was over, though their flight back home wasn’t until the day after tomorrow.

 

After thanking everyone politely, they hightailed it back to their room, Dean crowding Cas against the door as soon as it was shut.

He pressed his nose to Cas's neck, inhaling deep. The clean soap scent mingling with what was so undeniably Cas was intoxicating. That, and the almost surreal feel  of freedom to do what they wanted without anyone seeing.

There really was nobody watching them, nobody cared what they did behind closed doors.

They hadn't had a second’s moment to themselves, aside from the few lucky moments of hasty blowjobs when apparently some sand had gotten into the camera equipment and they had been able to steal away from the camp without proof. So understandably the energy surrounding them had been tortuously electric for days. Now that they were alone, Dean felt desperate to act on it.

Cas pulled Dean flush against himself roughly and lifted Dean's face up with demanding fingers. The sun was setting, and Cas's eyes were dark gray where there should have been ocean blue for Dean to dive in. He slapped the switch on the wall, and a light bulb lit the room with its yellowish light.

Dean didn't get much time to admire the view when Cas was on him, kissing hungrily, groaning into Dean's mouth and mouthing at his jaw when Dean slid his thigh between Cas's.

They broke apart for long enough to yank off their shirts, mouths crashing together again.

Cas's hands went to the fastening of Dean's jeans, and it was alarming how they slunk down lower on Dean’s hips too easily after opening one button. He hadn't realized how much weight he'd lost.

He discarded the thought, deft fingers unzipping Cas's jeans in turn and palming his cock through his underwear. He was already so hard there was a wet spot greeting Dean. Getting rid of the boxers, Dean paused just for a hot minute to wrap his hand around the silky hardness, for a split second his resolve almost crumbling and Dean falling to his knees to suck Cas down, to drink right from the source.

Dean kicked their jeans and underwear away from underfoot and began leading Cas to the bunk, shuffling backwards until his legs hit the edge. “I want you to fuck me,” he said hoarsely, voice low enough he hardly recognized it himself, searching Cas's eyes. “Lube?”

“I have a packet. I expected to have time for myself after the extraction.”

“But you're uncut,” Dean half asked intelligently, the equation not computing as his own already aching cock demanded attention right the fuck now.

Cas gave him an eyeroll, unamused. “I have fingers, Dean.”

“Oh. Oh! I love a man who plans ahead,” Dean pecked a kiss to Cas's mouth and let go of him long enough for him go find the lube.

In no time at all Dean was on his back on the cot with Cas kneeling between his legs, squeezing out a dollop from the packet on his fingers and slicking them up. It was a tight fit for two grown men's sexual activities, but they’d make do.

They’d have to keep quiet. Although nobody could mercifully see them, the place was brimming with production members, and though it might not come as a surprise to exactly nobody that their newest Unclothed And Fearful stars were fucking each other’s brains out the first moment they had to themselves, there was no need to announce it.

 

Gently, Cas opened Dean up with slick fingers, Dean thumbing the sharp rise of Cas's hips restlessly. Dean had to bite his lip to keep his moans from outsiders before they crescendoed into public entertainment.

“C’mon already, Cas, fill me up already, sweetheart. Been waiting for this for so long,” Dean tugged Cas’s hand insistently. Cas pushed his knees towards Dean’s chest and placed his hands on Dean’s inner thighs, pushing so that Dean’s legs fell further apart, Dean arching his back eagerly.

Cas guided himself slowly by grabbing the base of his leaking cock, the bluntness of the slick head pushing in relentlessly, stealing Dean’s breath away with how perfect it was when it slid in and Dean’s ass convulsed around the sweet intrusion.

Dean forced his eyes to stay open, to watch Cas, to watch the way his mouth fell open when he thrust steadily deeper.

Cas curved over Dean, leaning on his elbows, and Dean hooked his legs around Cas’s waist, hauling him in, hands sliding over the shifting muscles of Cas's broad, strong back when he began fucking Dean in slow, decadent thrusts.

This was exactly what Dean had dreamed about. The ebb and flow of this, the way he was filled just right by Cas’s thick cock, Cas all over him. He moaned quietly, Cas's movements quickening in time of Dean's insistent bearing down, his rush to get to the crest of his pleasure immediate, and which eluded him so irritatingly he gritted his teeth. He just needed a little bit of the right push. 

Lowering his hips, Castiel angling himself just so, Dean groaned loudly into Cas’s mouth as Cas’s cock finally brushed over his prostate over and over again, Cas picking up pace, his breaths and guttural grunts harsh and skiddering right into Dean’s spine, adding fire to the fuel. Dean, unable to do more than hold on and try to keep quiet, his own gruff grunts loud in his ears.

Cas shifted his weight to one side and wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, stroking in time of his thrusts, a helpless whine erupting from that deliciously masculine chest. 

Cas twisting his wrist with every upstroke, staring at Dean’s face with a look of awe. “Dean, you’re so tight, so amazing, so perfect, so beautiful, I‘m gonna, may I--” The end of the words swallowed up by Cas’s keening moan.

As good as verbal consent, Dean slapped his hands onto Cas’s ass, urging him on even further in, harder, voice nearly gone being so deep with lust. “I know, babe, just a little more, a little more, I'm right there with you, come in me,” Dean encouraged and lifted his head to catch Cas’s lips with his own in a sloppy facsimile of a kiss, to catch Cas's breathy moans as they began to get beyond Cas’s control.

In the next blink, Dean came hard with a gasp, locking up, toes curling, ass clenching around Cas’s cock forcefully, white noise taking over the sounds in the room while his cock pulsated and throbbed, shooting bursts of hot come in ribbons against Cas’s skin and his own. 

Dean smiled blissfully through his haze when he felt Cas's thrusts stutter and the tell-tale kick of Cas’s cock inside him, filling him up with Cas’s seed in long spurts, Dean feeling feeble pulses for a long time after Cas had already stilled. 

A sense of peace thrumming through Dean’s veins, a feeling he wasn’t very familiar with, Dean held Cas inside himself until Cas’s cock softened and slipped out, followed by come leaking out, Cas only adjusting his hips a little to slot himself with Dean’s body. Dean wouldn’t have let him go yet anyway, fulfillment expanding in his chest.

It took a good, long while for the men to gather themselves, neither one wanting to part from kissing languidly between affectionate smiles and words, at last in no hurry, just tasting each other and memorizing every soft touch. 

Finally they untangled for long enough for a quick cleanup, suddenly exhausted in the way that only came with a thorough fucking, and for Cas, Dean realized with a pang of regret, to slump into his own bed instead of crushing Dean in the too-small bed by sleeping on top of him.

 

“Night, Cas,” Dean whispered, barely holding off from reaching for Cas in the dark, turning the aborted motion into stretching his back in a curve, holding his breath, and willing himself to relax down to his toes on the breath out.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Dean could hear the tender smile in Cas’s voice.

Turning onto his side, Dean kind of definitely missed their bedding beside the fire at the camp. At least it had had space for two.