Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dean sighed heavily as he pulled the Impala into its place in front of his small cabin, cutting the engine and turning off the lights and wipers. It was a cold and rainy day in October, with only two short weeks to Halloween. He’d just come from a near twelve hour shift at Bobby’s Garage, where he worked as a mechanic for Bobby Singer, a man who was good friends with both his parents and even acted as a second father figure in his life. He and his brother Sam used to spend a lot of time at Bobby and his wife Ellen’s house, and when they’d gotten older, they’d moved to spending a lot of time at Ellen’s bar, The Roadhouse.

It wasn’t as if Dean minded working the extra hours- after all, what would Dick Roman do without his ridiculously overpriced Mustang in perfectly pretentious working order- and Dean could really use the money with Christmas coming, anyway. Ever since Sam had married his wife Eileen and they’d popped out a kid of their own, Dean found that he had a lot of time to himself. Not that he didn’t have friends...he worked with Ash and Benny at the shop, and still often hung out with his good friend, Charlie, from high school. But everyone had their own lives and families, and so Dean enjoyed having the extra work to distract him from what he was missing.

Dean still had Cas, of course. He always had Cas.

Dean smiled at that thought and slipped his keys on his finger before opening the door and sliding out of his seat. He held an arm over his ducked head as he ran to the front door, fumbling with the keys for a second until he realized that the door was not only unlocked but even open just a crack, some of Cas’s weird ass music coming from inside singing about some chick named Yoshimi fighting evil robots. He rolled his eyes with a growl and pushed it open, stepping inside and toeing off his shoes.

The smell hit him then; suffocating, pungent like rotten grapefruits, and he groaned loudly as he pushed the door shut behind him and shrugged off his coat.

“Cas!”

Cas’s bedroom door was wide open and Dean walked in, finding his room empty, save for all Cas’s outlandish shit, which he did his best to ignore. The door out to the patio was open, and Dean very deliberately ignored the creepy shelf full of taxidermied rodents and insects and bottles of animal fetuses as he crossed over to it. He stood in the doorway and squinted, not entirely surprised to find Cas laying on their hammock with his arms out by his sides, naked as the day he was born.

He wished he could say it wasn’t a regular occurance, but at this point, Dean had seen Cas’s dick what he felt like was only a handful less times than he’d seen his own. And since he’d been in love with the guy for several years now- he couldn’t even remember when exactly he’d happened, and even less when he actually realized- he’d only just gotten to the point where he could keep himself from getting an outright hard-on himself whenever he saw it.

“Cas, what the hell, man!”

Cas looked over in a daze, reaching in Dean’s direction as a slow smile spread across his face, eyes in narrow slits.

“Dean.”

“Get your dumbass inside, dude.”

“You should try it sometime,” Cas said calmly, turning his face back toward the sky for another moment before standing and stretching. Dean pointedly avoided him, looking out over their backyard and the woods in the distance...what little he could see in the dark, anyway. His eyes lingered on Cas’s garden, which was no more than a few pot plants at this point, right next to his fucking beehive that Dean loathed. He’d lost the battle against getting the beehive when Cas made a full powerpoint to explain the importance of bees to the environment. Dean had to admire his dedication.

“The sensation is overwhelming,” Cas mumbled as Dean ushered him inside. Dean poked around in the pile of clean clothes on his bed until he found a towel and thrust it in Cas’s direction. “It feels like each drop is a little jolt of electricity, like you’re renewing yourself in nature.”

“You left both the goddamn doors open,” Dean glared at him, gesturing toward the patio door. Cas looked lazily in that direction and back at Dean, overly contented smile on his face. “Been rainin’ for hours. And the whole house smells like weed, man. Dunno how many times I gotta tell you no smoking in my house-”

“ Our house-”

“ Rufus’s house. That we rent.”

Cas gestured to the door, giving Dean a confused look. “But it’s raining outside. I couldn’t very well smoke out there.”

Dean found it difficult to be surprised by Cas anymore. He just shook his head and scrubbed his hands down his face.

“You’re exhausting.”

Cas toweled himself off and Dean looked down at the floor when he bent over in front of him to pull dry clothes out of his dresser. He frowned at the makings of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at his feet.

“I guess at least you ate today.”

Cas pulled on his pants and turned back to Dean as he prepared to slide his shirt over his head, frowning and tilting his head. “I eat every day.”

“Barely.”

A small smile quirked at Cas’s lips and Dean only barely glanced at his sharp hip bones as he pulled his shirt over his head. “You’re such a mother hen.”

“Wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t so... you all the time,” he mumbled, pushing himself up off the bed with a grunt.

“You love me.”

Not that Cas didn’t say that all the time, but it hit a little closer to home each time he did. Dean shook his head.

“I tolerate you.”

“Right. Well,” Cas cracked his neck and leaned over to gather the bread and jelly and peanut butter in his hands. “I knew you’d be mad about the smoking, so I left you a surprise in the oven.”

“Cas, I swear to god, if you made more pot brownies-”

“I didn’t! I promise.”

“That’s what you said about the brownies you made for the garage,” Dean raised a brow. “And Benny and Bobby spent the whole day high as damn kites. Didn’t, uh...didn’t really make much of a difference for Ash. No surprise there.”

Cas blinked innocently then his face broke out in an abrupt grin as he cackled, face scrunched up in a way that told Dean he thought that was very funny. Dean threw his hands up and stomped out of the room, registering Cas’s bare feet padding along behind him.

“So, you didn’t eat any?” Cas asked, sounding genuinely upset by this.

“No,” Dean scoffed as he stepped into the kitchen, eyeballing the innocent-looking pie sitting on the counter. “I knew better.” He paused and leaned in close, taking a sniff, then straightened and rounded on Cas.

“I know you know better than to mess with my pie,” he growled, narrowing his eyes.

Cas nodded quickly and picked it up, holding the cherry filled goodness up to Dean’s nose. “No pot. Just love, baked into every bite.” He produced a fork from somewhere - Dean wasn’t going to ask- and slipped it into Dean’s hand.

Dean hesitated for only a moment before he dug the fork in, taking a small bite. His eyes slipped shut and he moaned, the taste of cherry and buttery crust exploding in his mouth. He realized how pornographic he sounded and snapped open his eyes to see Cas watching him with an entirely too smug face. Dean wanted to smack it. Or kiss it. Fuck.

“Do you forgive me?” Cas batted his eyelashes, already knowing the answer. He had Dean wrapped around his finger and the little shit knew it.

“...Fine,” Dean snatched the pie from Cas’s hands and plopped down on the couch in the living room, digging his fork in for another bite.

“Don’t be grumpy with me,” Cas pouted, walking up behind Dean to wrap his arms around his neck, rubbing his scruffy cheek against Dean’s.

“Stop rubbin’ on me, you damn cat,” Dean grumbled, secretly wishing the rubbing wouldn’t stop. Even if Cas did smell like weed and rain.

“Say it.”

Dean groaned and tried to pull away. “Cas-”

“Say you love me.”

Dean sighed. “I love you, you fucking weirdo. Now get off me.”

Cas chuckled and hopped over the back of the couch, jostling Dean enough to almost knock the pie out of his hands. He shot Cas a look before shoveling a large bite into his mouth, raising a brow.

“So what’d you get up to today?”

Cas shrugged, flipping on the television and tossing the remote to the side. “Went by to check on Missouri’s cats earlier.”

Their neighbor, Missouri Moseley, was the only soul who lived even relatively close to the two of them, just a short walk through the woods. She lived alone, her son and granddaughter living about four hours away from Sioux Falls in Minneapolis, and so she visited them often. She had seven cats- each so named for one of the Seven Dwarfs- and when she was away she asked Dean and Cas to check in on them. Since Dean was allergic, Cas fell on that grenade. Not that he minded, anyway. If he could get away with it, he’d bring his own cat home. He’d actually tried to several times before. Dean spent almost a week holed up in his room with what he thought was an extreme cold before he’d heard the meowing coming from Cas’s room.

Dean snorted. “Can’t believe you remembered.”

Cas clutched his chest, eyes never moving from the tv. “You wound me.”

“As if you’re bothered,” Dean muttered, taking another big bite before leaning forward to place the pie on the coffee table. He’d sit and eat the entire thing if he didn’t discipline himself.

Cas hummed and looked down at his arm, running a thumb over a couple of long scratches. “Doc got me pretty good.”

“Need to learn to leave ‘im alone,” Dean said, pushing the arm out of his face when Cas raised it to show him. “Think he’s made it clear he doesn’t like you.”

Cas shrugged and grinned. “He’s my favorite.”

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back with a sigh. “”Course he is,” he muttered. “You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“You have no idea,” Cas murmured, a rare moment when the guy actually sounded serious before it was gone just as quickly as it came. “Want me to cook you something before I leave?”

Dean blinked, turning away from the tv. “Leave? Where the hell are you going?”

“Megan’s,” Cas said shortly, climbing off the couch and digging through the mess on the coffee table.

Dean’s face immediately darkened and he clenched his jaw, pointedly looking back at the tv. A soft ‘aha’ told Dean Cas had found his lighter and he watched out of the corner of his eye as Cas pocketed it.

“You wanna come with?”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“To Megan’s,” Cas chuckled, standing and scratching at his belly under his shirt.

“No, I don’t wanna go to one of her freaky ass orgies,” Dean growled, feeling the sour mood he’d come home with spike again.

“Suit yourself,” Cas shrugged, padding into the kitchen to probably make Dean some dinner. Or dig for one of his stashes of pot. One could never be sure.

Dean glared at the tv and had to fight the urge to eat his feelings with the pie sitting just a foot away from him. Cas spending his night at an orgy wasn’t strange. In fact, it was a somewhat common occurrence at least once every other week or so. Dean didn’t judge him on it. Dean didn’t judge Cas about anything he did. He just happened to get a little cranky when the guy he loved flounced off to some party to get high and fuck random strangers. He only had himself to blame, though. He could tell Cas how he felt, but he also knew he’d lose one of the most important people in his life if he did.

Dean blinked when he felt Cas behind him again, chin resting on top of his head and arms draped over his shoulders.

“Meatloaf?” Cas asked, fidgeting with Dean’s shirt.

Dean felt the crankiness drain out of him. “Yes,” he mumbled, ignoring the way Cas’s fingers made his skin break out in goosebumps.

Cas kissed the top of his head- which again, was a regular occurence between the two of them and only another reason that Dean had a love/hate relationship with their arrangement- and set about making him dinner.

They ate about an hour later and Dean watched silently as Cas gathered his things, making sure his attention was elsewhere when the guy glanced over at him. He tucked a tightly rolled joint behind his ear as he shoved all his carefully-divided portions of pot into their respective containers and into his bag, throwing it over his shoulder as he stood.

“Sure you don’t wanna come?” Cas asked again, eyebrow raised, waiting for Dean to look up at him from the tv.

“Never wanted to do anything less,” Dean grunted.

“You could watch.”

Dean snapped his head up and narrowed his eyes, but Cas was already grinning.

“I’m kidding. Yeesh, don’t be such a prude.”

Dean half-heartedly swatted at him, throwing a couch pillow when he missed. Cas dodged both and picked up the pillow, throwing it back before pulling the joint from behind his ear. He placed it between his lips and lit it before Dean even realized what he was doing.

“Hey!”

Cas gave a sly smile as he inhaled, pulling it out and backing away when Dean got up to take it from him.

“Leaving!” Cas insisted, holding the joint out of Dean’s reach. He leaned in close, and despite his anger Dean knew what he was getting at, parting his lips slightly just as Cas shotgunned the hit to him. Cas grinned and patted his cheek, placing the joint back between his lips as he turned to leave.

“When you comin’ back?” Dean asked, hoping it sounded more casual than it felt.

“I’ll be home in the morning, mom,” Cas insisted as he pulled open the front door.

“Mornin’ for you, or mornin’ for me?”

“Yeah, one of those.”

Dean sighed as the door closed, leaving him alone with the tv and his thoughts. He rubbed at his face and stood, deciding a shower would do him some good. He turned the tv off and was left with the sound of rain hitting the windows as he slipped into his bedroom. He shed his clothes and grabbed a clean towel. He stared at himself in the mirror as the water warmed up then stepped under the spray, closing his eyes as he tipped his head back.

He honestly hated orgy nights. Sleep was almost impossible and he knew by morning Cas would be stumbling back home, reeking of sex and pot and old sweat. He’d be incoherent at best, eyes barely open and stoned off his ass. Dean, having been up all night worrying, would help him into the bath and scrub him clean. Then put him to bed and have food ready when he woke roughly 8-10 hours later.

It wasn’t that Dean didn’t trust Cas to take care of himself. It was Meg and her “friends” he didn’t trust. And, he admitted to himself, he just hated the thought of who knew how many people touching Cas in ways he’d only dreamed about. Hated the thought that Cas actually seemed to like it, actively sought it out.

Dean pushed the ever darkening thoughts away as he set about cleaning the grease monkey look off his skin. Cas was Cas and he wasn’t changing for anybody. He’d been strange since Dean first met him and it was what drew him in, sparking a friendship no one else seemed to understand. Which didn’t bother either of them. They understood each other, and that was all that mattered.

Dean finished washing quickly and stepped out, drying himself off and finding a loose pair of sweatpants. He decided against a shirt and set about cleaning up the daily mess Cas always seemed to accumulate. The guy was a genius. A serious, honest to God genius, but scatterbrained. Not to mention high half the time. So Dean often came home to a weird array of things lying about haphazardly. It was annoying sometimes, but it was one of the little ways he took care of Cas. Like cooking was one of the little ways Cas took care of him. They had struck a balance years ago and it seemed to work most days.

And the guy practically saved his life, so Dean kinda considered it even. He still had the scar from where Dean’s kidney was replaced with Cas’s, and he’d never forget how willingly Cas had offered it. Like it was never a question.

Dean shot off a quick text to Bobby to let him know he’d be in late, which Bobby was used to a couple days a month. He didn’t mind because Dean always made up his time, and he knew there was no arguing with him about it anyway, because Dean didn’t budge when it came to Cas’s wellbeing. Cas was the same, always dropping everything whenever Dean needed him. There was no one Cas cared more about than Dean- which was saying something, considering Cas didn’t really seem to care about anyone- and Dean cared about Cas as much as he did his own family.

Dean met Cas when they were in fourth grade. It was halfway through the year when Cas started, and he was smaller and nerdier than all the other kids, with messy dark hair and intense blue eyes...the first thing Dean ever noticed about him. Cas had just moved in with his new foster family, the third one in as many years, and he’d have another four before he turned eighteen.

He was weird then, and he only got weirder the older he got. “Enigmatic” was too tame a term for him. Dean wasn’t sure such a word existed that would describe Cas. He spent a lot of time at Dean’s house growing up, and Dean’s parents loved him, to the point that Dean was surprised they never adopted him themselves. Cas had a different elaborate story for what happened to his parents for anyone ballsy enough to ask, and it was always sure to make said person uncomfortable. Dean would never forget the look on Benny’s face when Cas- with a completely straight face and even a tear in one eye- explained that his parents’ cruise ship was attacked by pirates and sunk with no survivors.

No one dared question the validity of his claims, though. It was an awful thing to lie about, but Cas never knew his parents, who gave him up for adoption as a baby, and he therefore had no familial attachment to them. Dean was the only one who knew that truth.

The drug thing started when they were in high school. Cas found out quickly how easy it was to make good money by selling pot, and eventually he branched out into some of the other avenues recreationally, sometimes taking or selling things like percocet, adderall, ecstasy. It was then that Dean started to worry, keeping a closer eye on him, but Cas seemed mostly interested, personally, on pot. He genuinely didn’t seem like he wanted to hurt himself, and he definitely wasn’t suicidal. He loved himself way too much for that.

Didn’t make Dean worry any less, though.

When Dean finally ran out of things to clean, he fell into bed with his phone and prepared for a night of little sleep. He scrolled through Facebook, Tumblr, YouTube, wasting time until his phone started to die. Then he turned on his tv and watched whatever was on, dozing in and out as time ticked by. He periodically checked his charging phone to see if Cas had sent any texts. He hadn’t, of course, but Dean hadn’t really expected him to.

Dean was jolted awake when he heard the front door open and close a little loudly. He rolled over and checked the time. 9:00 a.m. Not too bad.

He got out of bed and stepped into the hallway, easily catching Cas as the man stumbled into him. Dean didn’t even bat an eye, too used to this by now. Cas stank of pot and who knew what else, his hair stuck up in all directions. Cas sunk into Dean’s arms and let himself to be dragged to the bathroom. Dean sat him on the toilet lid and got the water going. He undressed Cas while the other swayed in his seat, mumbling under his breath, until he suddenly reached out and grasped either side of Dean’s face.

“Dean,” he gasped, as if just seeing him for the first time.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean sighed, patting Cas’s leg. “Lift.”

Cas blinked, concentrated, and lifted his leg to let Dean pull his shoes off. Once he was undressed Cas surged forward and wrapped his arms around Dean, sighing loudly.

“I missed you,” he murmured.

“Yeah, okay,” Dean huffed, trying to pry him off and not thinking about what could be on Cas’s skin. “I missed you too. C’mon, in the tub.”

Cas stood on shaky legs and lowered himself into the tub, sighing again with a dopey smile on his face as he settled into the warm water. He looked up at Dean with dilated pupils, reaching up to pat his cheek.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever ,” Cas drawled, and Dean took his hand and lowered it back into the water.

“The hell you take, man?” he asked, perhaps a little too forcefully, if Cas’s wide eyes were any indication.

Cas frowned and looked up, like he was trying to remember, then chuckled. “A little Brian Griffin.”

“Thought you were swearing off LSD after your bad trip?” Dean said, biting his cheek to keep himself from bitching. He took Cas’s hand and turned it face up, squirting some shampoo into it. Cas just stared at it for a long time, dipping his thumb into the liquid, until Dean huffed and guided the hand to his hair.

“Shampoo, dude.”

“Mmm.” Cas started massaging the shampoo into his own hair, moaning a little too explicitly for Dean’s comfort. “Fuck, this feels good.”

“How’d you get home?” Dean grumbled, pulling himself up to sit on the toilet seat.

“Crowley dropped me off,” Cas said easily, watching his hands disappear into the water and the suds rise to the top. He moved his hands jerkily back and forth under the water, watching it ripple. Dean sighed and grabbed them, catching Cas’s gaze.

“You good?”

Cas nodded. “Mhmm.”

Dean pursed his lips and nodded, letting his hands go. Cas resumed the motion, watching his hands blankly.

“C’mere. I’ll rinse the shampoo out.” Dean gestured for him to turn. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you didn’t try to drive or anything, but...I fucking hate that guy.”

“He’s not so bad,” Cas said, tilting his head back so Dean could rinse the soap out of his hair. “He didn’t even participate or anything, you know, he just...sat there and watched.” He giggled like a little kid. “So weird. Just sat in the fucking corner watching me and Meg and Abi and Inias, like a fucking creep-”

“Alright, alright. Don’t need to hear anymore.” Dean finished rinsing Cas’s hair and tapped him on the shoulder, and Cas turned back around to sink down into the water. “And he...he wasn’t fucked up, was he? When he drove you home?”

Cas frowned down at his hands and shook his head. “Nah, Crowley’s sober.”

Dean let out a breath. “Good.”

“Should come next time,” Cas insisted, grinning. “They’d all lose it over you, lookin’ all gorgeous like that. Let me show you off.”

“I’m not into sex with strangers,” Dean muttered. He grabbed some body wash- fruity shit from Bath and Body Works because Cas likes to smell pretty - and poured a good amount into a absurdly bright pink floof. He was determined to wash the smell of all of those people and their spunk off Cas’s skin.

“They’re not strangers,” Cas sniffed, watching dazedly as Dean started scrubbing at his chest. “And you’re so pretty . Inais would be all over-“

“I’m not talkin’ about this,” Dean snapped, tired and a little more than grumpy about the whole ordeal. “Lift your arm.”

Cas did so wordlessly- a small miracle- and the rest of the bath passed in relative silence. Dean scrubbed every inch of Cas twice then finally deemed him clean enough. He helped Cas out of the tub, dried him off, catching him every time he started to fall or lose his balance. Cas seemed in and out of awareness, his eyes wide and glazed, only focusing when they found Dean again.

When Dean turned to toss the towel in the hamper, Cas abruptly grabbed the sides of his face again and bumped their foreheads together.

“You’re mad at me,” he stated, and Dean sighed tiredly. He wasn’t doing this in the bathroom while Cas was baked and naked.

“No, I’m not,” he muttered, pulling away. “I’m tired and I need you to go to bed so I can go to work.”

“Deannnn.”

Cas latched himself onto Dean’s retreating form, throwing his arms around his neck and pressing up against his back, leaning heavily into him. Dean stumbled only slightly before catching himself, his hands wrapping around Cas’s forearms.

“Cas, what the hell-”

“Don’t be mad at me, please.” Cas said sincerely, nuzzling at Dean’s neck. “Can’t take it when you’re mad at me.”

“When did you take this shit?” Dean asked evenly, effectively avoiding the implication of Cas’s words.

“When I got there.”

“Christ.” Dean dislodged himself from Cas’s grasp and led the man to the living room, letting him fall into their shabby plaid couch. He crossed over to the kitchen, feeling Cas’s eyes on him, and began fixing a pot of coffee. He glanced back over to find Cas looking at him over the back of the couch like a small child. Dean gestured toward him.

“You’re not gonna claw your own skin off or anything while I’m gone, are ya?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to treat me like a kid, Dean-”

“Then stop acting like one,” Dean snapped, immediately feeling guilty when Cas blinked at him innocently. “Sorry, just...didn’t sleep well last night.”

Cas said nothing, so Dean went about preparing two cups of coffee, taking them over to the living room when he was done. He handed one to Cas and settled in beside him, their thighs pressed together. Cas stared straight ahead with his hands clasped around his mug, occasionally raising it to his lips to take a sip. Dean pointedly ignored his naked crotch.

“I’m not...mad, Cas,” Dean said finally, looking over at him. “I...I worry about you, man. Fuck, dude, I half expect to get a call from the cops or a hospital when you leave here. That last time really fucked with me-”

“It was a fluke,” Cas insisted, probably for the hundredth time since he’d landed himself in the hospital with a broken arm. “I hadn’t even taken anything.”

Which was mostly true. He was high, but then, he was high most of the time. Cas functioned well high, actually. In this particular instance, Cas had been out with the usual suspects when one of them dared him to climb the metal giraffe sculpture at the Great Plains Zoo.

“Almost made it to the taint,” he’d said with a cheeky grin when Dean showed up at the hospital. He hadn’t even known before then that Cas had listed him as his emergency contact. “I could almost taste it.”

“Still,” Dean said, drawing himself back to the present. “Gonna get yourself killed.”

Cas sat his mug on the coffee table, situating himself so he could lay his head in Dean’s lap. He looked up at him with a boyish smile that Dean desperately tried not to give in to.

“Would you miss me?”

“The fuck kind of question is that?” Dean said irritably, frowning down at him. “Just don’t be reckless, Castiel. Full stop.”

Cas raised his eyebrows at that. Dean hardly ever used his full name. It was the step just below using his real full name, his birth name, Jimmy Milton. Cas had it legally changed to Castiel Novak when he turned 18. He’d told Dean that he practically raised himself anyway, so he should be the one to get to choose his own name.

“Okay, okay,” Cas conceded, blinking innocently up at Dean. “I’ll take it easy on the hallucinogens.”

“Good.”

“I'm not…” Cas paused, chewing his lip. “I'm not… intentionally trying to hurt myself, you know. I’m okay.”

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. “Yeah, I know. But for a genius you’re fucking stupid sometimes.”

Cas didn’t say anything, just reached up and traced the lines of Dean’s face. Dean supposed to anyone else this would be strange, how touchy Cas was with him. It’d always been like this, though. Cas liked to touch and Dean got used to it. In fact, Cas was all about invading personal space period. If he wasn’t in Dean’s bubble, he simply wasn’t happy.

“You’re still naked,” Dean grumbled, rubbing at his tired eyes.

Cas giggled and Dean pushed him off his lap. Cas squawked and landed on the floor with a thump, still laughing. Dean huffed and stood, stepping over the giggling man to head to his room. He quickly changed into his garage clothes and grabbed his keys.

Cas was picking himself up when Dean walked back into the living room.

“Are you leaving me?” Cas asked sadly, finally managing to climb back onto the couch.

“Work,” Dean grunted, trying not to stare at the man’s ass. “Try not to hurt yourself while I’m gone. And for fuck sake put some damn clothes on.”

“Party pooper.”

Dean smacked his head on the way out, smirking in satisfaction when he heard an ‘owww’ as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

“Look who finally decided to show up.”

“Ha ha ha,” Dean said dryly, hanging his jacket in Bobby’s office. He plopped down in the rickety chair in front of the man’s desk, slouching down in his seat and rubbing his eyes.

Bobby looked at him critically. “Rough night?”

“You could say that.”

Bobby pressed his lips together and nodded. “How’s he doin’?”

“He’s fine,” Dean laughed incredulously, shaking his head. “Cas is always fine.”

“Uh huh. Well,” Bobby shifted some papers around on his desk, squinting at one before passing it over to Dean. “You got Gordon Walker’s ‘Yota first today. Needs new tires and an oil change.”

“On it,” Dean grumbled, giving the service sheet a quick once-over before standing.

Ash and Benny were already hard at work in the shop. The only visible part of Ash was his feet, sticking out from under an old GMC, and Benny was in the process of getting Gordon’s truck up in the lift.

“Afternoon, chief,” Benny drawled as Dean walked over, zipping up his coveralls. “Hot date last night?”

“I wish,” Dean said, clapping him on the back. “Just more of the same.”

“Ah,” Benny murmured knowingly. “How’s the little energizer bunny doing?”

Dean snorted a laugh and shook his head. “Probably passed out on the couch where I left him.”

Benny just shook his head and locked the truck into place. They got to work in silence, the old radio playing static rock on a table in the corner. Dean always appreciated Benny’s comforting, silent presence. He was one of the few that never judged or questioned Dean about Cas or their unconventional relationship. It probably had a lot to do with Benny’s relaxed, go-with-the-flow attitude about life. Dean couldn’t think of a time the big bear had ever gotten angry or shouted, and he sure as hell never expressed any kind of dislike towards anybody. Benny was one of the few that could tolerate Cas for more than just an hour or two.

“Dean,” Bobby called out after a couple of hours, poking his head out of the office and holding the phone. “Gotta call.”

Dean grumbled and wiped his hands on his coveralls, grabbing the old cord phone and holding it between his ear and shoulder.

“Yeah,” he barked, glancing at the time and groaning to see that it only read two.

“Dean,” Cas’s voice was whispered, slurred. “There’s a butterfly on my dick.”

Dean inhaled slowly and closed his eyes, holding the phone out as he counted to ten. Bobby watched with some amusement as Dean gathered up the willpower to bring the phone back to his ear, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What.”

“I’m communing with nature in my hammock,” Cas went on. Dean mentally translated: I’m high and naked in my hammock. “And it just landed there. Can you believe that? I haven’t moved in ten minutes.”

Dean couldn’t believe the guy had his phone nearby. Most of the time Cas loses it and Dean finds it in some random place. Last time it had been in the fridge.

“Cas, I really can’t-”

“It tickles , Dean.” Cas giggled.

“Cas, I’m at work,” Dean sighed. “I really can’t talk about your dick right now.”

Bobby scoffed down at his paperwork, shaking his head.

“I’ve named him Richard,” Cas continued, as if Dean hadn’t said anything. “Get it?”

Dean couldn’t help it. He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, Cas, I get it.”

“You laughed,” Cas said, sounding pleased.

“Yeah, so?”

“That’s all I wanted. Bye, Dean.”

Cas hung up and Dean shook his head as he placed the phone on the receiver. The fact that Cas would call just to make him laugh wasn’t all that surprising, but it still touched Dean in a weird way. It also happened to put him a slightly better mood for the rest of the day.

It was after 9 p.m. when he finally got back home, and he opened the door to their house with the same nervous trepidation that he always did, never fully knowing what to expect on the other side. He was pleased to see that Cas had attempted to straighten up some, although it was clear that he’d gotten distracted a few times, the laundry Dean had washed and dried the day prior sitting half folded on the couch. Something smelled incredible, though, and since Cas wasn’t in his usual spot in the living room, Dean headed to the kitchen.

Cas was sitting on the counter, swinging his legs slightly, wrapped in a blue silk women’s robe that, frankly, Dean didn’t want to know how he came by. He’d said before that he liked the way the material felt on his skin, and that was essentially the thing with Cas. He didn’t give a shit who or what was expected of him, and decided what he did and didn’t like based on how he perceived it. Dean wished he could be a little more like him in that one particular regard.

Dean raised a brow. “Please tell me that’s what I think it is.”

Cas grinned and reached behind him, producing a plate with two massive bacon cheeseburgers and fries. He handed it to Dean, then hopped off the counter and pulled a beer out of the fridge, popping the cap off before handing that to him as well.

“Just wanted to say thank you for today,” Cas said, shrugging. “And, you know...wanted to make up for being an ass.”

Dean moaned around the first bite of the burger. He chewed and swallowed, holding the plate out of the way as he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to Cas’s temple.

“You’re forgiven.”

Cas chuckled. “Your forgiveness is far too easy sometimes.”

“Mm, lucky for you,” Dean hummed, taking another bite and sighing contently. He took his plate of heavenly goodness into the living room and sat down on the couch, kicking away half-folded laundry.

“How long did Richard stick around?” Dean asked, glancing at the bee documentary currently playing on the tv.

“A while,” Cas said, sitting beside him, his bare thigh pressed against Dean’s. “But I had to pee so he flew away.”

“Can’t expect him to stick around for that, I guess,” Dean snorted, munching on a fry.

“Some people would love to stick around for that.”

Dean made a face and shook his head. “Dude, don’t even start with your weird sex stuff. I’m eating .”

Cas chuckled, but spared Dean details and leaned back on the arm of the couch to rest his feet in Dean’s lap. He went quiet, watching the documentary and fiddling with the edges of his robe. A quiet Cas was rare and usually meant he was at least mostly sober, coming down from his high.  Or he was so wrapped up in his head he wasn’t capable of holding conversation.

“Hey,” Cas said suddenly, softly.

“Hm?” Dean hummed, starting on the second burger.

“Are you seeing anyone?”

Dean snorted. “You know I’m not.”

Cas chewed on his lip, eyes never leaving the tv screen. “Why not?”

“I dunno,” Dean shrugged. A lie. He knew perfectly well why. “Just not interested, I guess.”

“Don’t you get horny?”

Dean choked on a fry and shook his head. “Uh, don’t you mean lonely?”

“That, too.”

Dean sighed and set the plate down, rubbing his hands on his jeans. “I mean, I guess? Horny is easy. Can...you know. Take care of that myself if I need to. And loneliness…” he shrugged, giving Cas a smile, “I have you. I’m never lonely. Especially since you crawl into my bed almost every night.”

Cas huffed and Dean was pretty sure he saw a blush. “Yours is more comfortable.”

“Memory foam.”

“You should really get me one of those.”

“I’ll look into it.”

Cas looked at him and smiled, then looked back to the television as he settled deeper into the couch cushions. Dean grabbed his plate and started eating again, and they fell silent, both watching the documentary discussing the integration of a new queen bee into an existing hive. Dean knew that part too well, having seen Cas do it for his own hive close to two years ago.

“ We could sleep together, you know.”

Dean choked on a large bite of burger this time, dropping the rest to his plate as he pounded on his chest. He pointedly looked straight ahead as he finished chewing and swallowed, then took a long sip of his beer. He could feel Cas’s eyes on him.

“I...I, uh...we-”

“Jesus, it was just a suggestion,” Cas said casually, looking back at the tv. “Coulda just said no if you didn’t want to.”

“I, I’m…” Dean frowned, unable to figure out the best thing to say in that moment. Telling Cas he didn’t want to would be an outright lie, and Dean was really good at lying if he wanted to be, but he hated lying to Cas, who always seemed to be able to tell. And telling Cas that wasn’t the case might reveal how he really felt about the guy, and that... that just wasn’t something he could risk.

“Just, uh. Went down the wrong pipe, is all,” Dean lied. “And anyway, don’t you think that would be a bad idea?”

“How so?” Cas asked genuinely, raising a brow at him.

“Don’t, uh...don’t you think something like that would fuck up our friendship or whatever? It’s what they’re always worried about in the romcoms and shit.”

Cas rolled his eyes, nudging Dean with his foot. “Romcoms aren’t real life, Dean.”

“Right.”

“And anyway, I feel like there’s nothing really that could make us stop being...us. I think I’ve been pretty up front with all my shortcomings and you know all my fucked up shit. I know about your thing for womens’ underwear and-”

“Dude, that was one time!”

“All I’m saying is, I doubt anything could happen that would ruin our friendship.”

Dean chewed his lip, finally looking over at Cas, studying his profile as his eyes were still glued to the tv screen. “You serious?”

Cas looked at him then, expression neutral, and shrugged. “Yeah. Why not?”

“You...well first of all, you sleep with a lot of people, man. Like, a lot of people.”

“It’s really not as many as you think, for one,” Cas said, sitting up in his seat. He leaned forward and grabbed Dean’s beer, taking a sip. “And two, we’re all regularly tested. It’s all good.”

Dean shook his head, pressing his lips together. “Doesn’t make me feel better, Cas.”

Cas sighed, looking tired. “Do you want to fuck me or not, Dean?”

Dean swallowed, looking back and forth between Cas and the tv. He could’ve sworn for a second that Cas looked a little unsure himself, but it was gone before he fully registered it.

“I don’t...think that’s a good idea,” he said finally, closing his eyes and sighing inwardly even as he said it.

Cas hummed and nodded, turning his attention back to the tv. “If you say so.”

The usually comfortable silence between them was bordering on painful for Dean, and he kept his gaze forward, drumming his fingertips anxiously on his thigh. “What, uh...what made you suggest that, anyway?”

He felt Cas’s eyes on him again, but he didn’t look over, trying his best to look casual.

“Dunno,” Cas laughed. “Guess I was just thinkin’...you know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.”

“No, no,” Dean said, perhaps a little too quickly, turning to Cas and draping an arm over the back. “Tell me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Try me.”

Cas sighed and sat up a little in his seat, pressing his feet against Dean’s thigh. The robe fell open a little when he moved and Dean made a point not to look at his thighs...which were thick and fantastic, not that he’d spent a lot of time thinking about them or anything.

“Well, things are starting to get a little stale for me-”

“So you’re bored.”

“That’s not what I said.” Cas kicked lazily at him. “Are you gonna let me talk or not?”

Dean gave him a small smile and nodded once, and Cas continued.

“By ‘stale’ I mean...I’m finding myself less fulfilled with my arrangement than I once was, and...I mean, I don’t plan on stopping, necessarily, but...I just thought...since you weren’t seeing anyone in any official capacity either...maybe it would be mutually beneficial? Plus you’re hot. Like, really hot.”

` Dean huffed and looked down, refusing to let Cas see his reddened cheeks.

“Like insanely hot-”

“Are you making a point here anytime soon?” Dean asked gruffly.

Cas chuckled, his nose scrunching and the corners of his eyes wrinkling, straight white teeth in stark comparison to full, pink lips. Dean cleared his throat.

“Nah. I was just throwin’ the idea out there.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean shifted in his seat, looking at Cas then back at the tv. “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Cas sighed, but looked back to his stupid bee documentary anyway, shrugging. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Besides, I bet you’re a soft fuck anyway.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s not a bad thing!” Cas raked his eyes over Dean’s body, gesturing up and down at him. “I just mean...you look like you, you know...do the whole lovemaking thing-”

“I do not -”

“You forget I share a wall with you and the sounds I heard during Lisa’s visits and, um...what was her name?”

“Jo.”

“Right, Jo. Anyway, the sounds I heard when they were over seemed pretty, uh...tame.”

Dean made a disapproving noise. “Jesus, Cas. Cut me, do I not bleed?”

“Not that you’re a bad fuck,” Cas said defensively. “I bet you’re a great fuck. A fantastic fuck. The best fuck to ever-”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Cas grinned. “‘Soft’ fucking just isn’t my style.”

Dean eyed him for a moment, a small smile pulling at his lips. “You underestimate me, Novak. I’d be the best lay you ever had.”

“Oooh,” Cas said with a mischievous grin, shoulders rising and falling slightly.

Dean was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to lean forward and yank the guy into a kiss- and holy fuck where did that come from?- so he cleared his throat instead and shrugged. “That’s fine. I’ll let you keep your underwhelming and generally wrong assumptions about me.”

Several minutes passed before Cas spoke again.

“Wanna see the pic I took of Richard on my dick?”

----

Dean spent the next day at the shop trying to think of anything other than Cas’s offer, since Cas seemed utterly unbothered by it that morning at breakfast. In fact, it seemed as if Cas had forgotten about the whole thing completely. It cemented the thought that Cas didn’t actually want Dean in any other way that was outside of physical. Cas didn’t want anyone that way. He wasn’t a monogamous kind of guy and probably never would be. The guy loved sex too much and, as proven the night before, tended to get bored after a while. His offer to Dean was nothing more than that. Boredom, if maybe a little of what he thought was a form of care for Dean and his lack of any kind of sex life.

The thing with Lisa had ended over a year ago and Dean hadn’t bothered looking since then. To put it plainly, his feelings for his weird friend had made it impossible to commit himself to anything real. And Dean was monogamous. He just couldn’t ever share himself with others and couldn’t see himself wanting to share someone he loved with anyone else. That was why Cas’s orgy nights were particularly difficult.

There was also a small sense of pride to his telling Cas no. He didn’t want to be a pity fuck. He didn’t doubt Cas’s many compliments the guy threw at him every day. Cas didn’t lie. At least, not to him. But thinking he was hot and actually wanting to be with him were two different things. Dean got the feeling Cas was just trying to throw him a bone- pun intended- and Dean didn’t want to risk getting hurt when the arrangement inevitably ended.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?”

Dean blinked and looked up from the work order he had been bent over for the last twenty minutes. Bobby leaned against the doorway leading to the garage, coffee mug in hand and a slightly worried expression on his face.

“Just Cas,” Dean answered honestly. Bobby may not always understand his relationship with Cas, but as an honorary father figure he understood the importance of it.

“Trouble in paradise?” Bobby grunted, sitting down next to him in his usual creaky chair. He took a sip of his coffee, raising a brow at Dean.

“Not exactly,” Dean muttered. “Just...you know, for as long as I’ve known the guy, sometimes he still throws me for a loop.”

Bobby scoffed and scratched at his beard as he shuffled through papers on his desk. “I still don’t understand that boy. What I do understand,” he added, looking up at Dean, “is that he inexplicably makes you happy. And you seem to be the only one who really matters to him. Hell, I remember how he followed you around in school like a lost puppy. He was always holdin’ your hand, or your shirt, somethin’.”

Dean smiled at the memories and chuckled with a nod. “Yeah, he was my little shadow. But what’s your point?”

“Hell if I know,” Bobby snorted, waving his hand dismissively. “Just an old man’s ramblings.”

“Uh huh.” Dean huffed and went back to his work. “There a reason you brought it up?”

“Other than that look you’ve had on your face all day? Nah.”

Dean sighed and sat up again, letting his hands fall to his thighs with a slap. “Well, I dunno what to tell you. Cas is the same as he’s always been. I just have a little trouble keeping up with him sometimes, is all.”

“Somethin’ happen?”

“ No , just-” Dean huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. “Look, I’m just a little off today. Nothin’ sayin’ that has anything to do with what’s going on with Cas necessarily . I took care of him when he came home yesterday mornin’, same as I always do, and we’re fine today, same as we always are. It’s fine. We’re fine.” He said the last part mostly to himself, looking down as he rubbed his hands on his jeans.

Bobby lifted his cap with one hand to scratch at his forehead before pulling it back down. “Ever think maybe you’re just...enablin’ him a little bit?”

“Bobby…”

“I’m just sayin’, this same crap’s been goin’ on awhile now, and I know you care about him but what he’s doin’ ain’t healthy. Maybe you oughta put your foot down-”

“Cas is gonna do what Cas wants to do,” Dean muttered bitterly. “And I’m the only one he’s got, Bobby. Maybe I start makin’ demands and he leaves. What then, huh? He wouldn’t make it out there without me.”

“He’s a grown man, Dean,” Bobby murmured. “Surely it’s time he stop depending on you so much.”

“So what?” Dean barked roughly. “You want me to just kick him out?”

“No,” Bobby said patiently, finally taking his eyes off the stack of papers. “I just worry about you, boy. You know you- we -love Cas, but I...I just don’t want to see you put your life on hold so he can have a good time.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not,” Bobby conceded with a dip of his head. “I don’t pretend to understand you two. Frankly, I don’t think anyone does. I’m just...sayin’ what it looks like from the outside. And that maybe you’re so close to the situation, you may not see the harm.”

Bobby didn’t say anything more after that, returning to his work and grumbling under his breath about whatever woes faced the garage that week. Dean tried to keep himself busy, mindlessly going from job to job, though his head was hardly in the present and his hands worked on autopilot.

---

There was a new kid and Dean was trying not to stare.

But, like, he couldn’t not .

Luckily, the boy sat in the back next to him, so staring was actually pretty easy. He had a dingy yellow backpack with a small hole in the bottom corner and frayed edges. One of the zippers looked broken and a little bee keychain hung off another one. His shoes were scuffed, dirty, with the soles starting to peel off. His shirt was a size too big and an ugly orange, and his jeans had holes in the knees. He had wild hair that Dean would bet his lunch money on his mom would immediately fuss over for a solid twenty minutes. His eyes were blue, crazy blue, like the sky on Friday at recess. The absolute best kind of blue.

His name was Jimmy Milton and that was all Dean knew. Jimmy was quiet and had stared at his feet while Mrs. Tran introduced him to the class. One of his shoelaces was untied and he had tripped on his way to his desk. The kids laughed and Jimmy’s face scrunched up, and Dean had tried to help him up but the boy was already on his feet, making a dash for the empty desk in the back.

Class started and the other kids ignored their new classmate. Dean tried to pay attention, because math was hard, but Jimmy was very distracting. Which made no sense because the boy was just sitting there, staring down at his desk and occasionally out the window.

Mrs. Tran passed out worksheets after her lesson, giving them the opportunity to practice with multiplication. Dean looked over at Jimmy about ten minutes later, finding him doodling on the back of the worksheet instead of solving the problems on the front. The drawing was quite good, actually, although it was a character Dean didn’t recognize. It was a man with crazy hair and a pinstriped suit with a wide smile, his arms out by his sides.

“Who’s that?” Dean asked before he could stop himself, and Jimmy looked up at him with wide eyes, like he was surprised Dean had even noticed him.

“Beetlejuice,” Jimmy said simply, frowning before going back to his drawing.

Dean didn’t know who Beetlejuice was or why Jimmy would be drawing him, but he had more important questions, anyway.

“Can you draw Batman?”

Jimmy looked up at him again, studying him intently for a long time before a smile slowly spread across his face.

“Yeah. You like Batman?”

“Dude, Batman’s awesome.”

Jimmy giggled and looked back down at his paper, resuming his drawing without another word.

Dean tried to go back to his work, but it was impossible knowing that Jimmy was working on a masterpiece just beside him. He kept glancing over, unable to stop himself.

“Hey, aren’t you gonna do your work? You’re gonna get in trouble.”

Jimmy looked up again, raising a brow slightly as he flipped the page over. The math problems were all neatly filled out already, and Dean didn’t know anything at all about Jimmy, but somehow he knew they’d all be right. He looked down at his own half-finished paper, frowning in annoyance. Jimmy gave him a smile and went back to his drawing, and they didn’t speak again for the rest of the day.

The next day, there was an intricate and badass drawing of Batman on his desk, colored in with colored pencils. Jimmy was already in his own desk, sketching a picture of the Joker. He glanced up at Dean, meeting his eyes for a moment before smiling and looking down again shyly.

Dean was pretty sure he’d just made a friend.

----

Dean laid on his side in his bed, room dark except for the small bit of moonlight coming through the window. He stared at the wall, particularly the spot above his computer desk, at the now aged and worn drawing of Batman. The first of many he’d receive from Cas, each one just a little better than the last as Cas’s skills developed. He remembered the day he met Cas clearly, as if it hadn’t been more than two decades ago.

The weekend started tomorrow and Bobby’s Garage was closed on the weekends. This usually meant he, Benny, and Ash would all pile into Dean’s Impala and have a fun night at the Roadhouse. Drinking, shootin’ pool, maybe flirt with a few girls who didn’t mind Dean’s lousy pick-up lines. But even working all day, Dean still found himself distracted with thoughts of Cas and his seemingly casual offering to be his fuck buddy. Knowing he wouldn’t be much in the way of company, Dean went home. The house was empty, but there was dinner waiting for him. No note to explain where Cas was because Dean already knew. Cas didn’t seem to have an actual job, but he never failed to pay his half of the rent and utilities. When Cas wasn’t smoking it, he was selling it. Something else Dean sometimes worried about, but really, the guy was good at it and eventually Dean decided to stop stressing over it. If for nothing else than his own mental health.

Shit, maybe he was an enabler.

Dean blinked when he heard the front door open then lock a few seconds later. Cas padded around for a few minutes then Dean felt his bed dip as a weight settled behind him.

“You have your own bed,” Dean grumbled, closing his eyes. For once Cas didn’t smell like weed. He had a policy to remain sober when he made his little dealings or whatever the fuck he did.

“You’re awake,” Cas said, sounding surprised. He moved in closer to Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and bumping his head between Dean’s shoulders.

“Go to your room.”

“Mm, can’t,” Cas sighed. “The ghost is back.”

Dean didn’t have the energy to argue with Cas about his supposed ghost that randomly shows up on the nights that Cas just happens to crawl into Dean’s bed. He’d been showing up more and more as the years went on.

“Couch,” Dean grunted.

“But your bed is so comfyyyy,” Cas pouted and Dean caved, because he was used to this and he didn’t actually care, anyway.

“If you’re naked, I swear to God-”

“I put on those terrible things you call boxers,” Cas snorted. “No need to swear to the Almighty and get us smote.”

“Smited.”

“Pretty sure it’s smote.”

Dean groaned and adjusted his head on his pillow. “Whatever.”

“I RSVP’d to Charlie’s party for us, by the way.”

“Good. I’d forgotten about it.” Dean had to actively keep himself from laying an arm over Cas’s, instead sliding his hand under his pillow alongside his other arm. “Whose turn is it to pick costumes?”

“Mine, I think.”

“You sure? Pretty sure it was mine.”

Cas made a disapproving noise and bumped his head against Dean’s back again. “I really don’t want to go as Batman and Robin again.”

“You could be the Joker.”

“ Dean.”

“Fine,” Dean conceded, smiling in the dark. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer for the moment, because Cas hummed contentedly and nuzzled his cheek between Dean’s shoulder blades. He snuggled closer and Dean hissed when the guy pressed his cold feet up against him.

“Why are you so fuckin’ cold?”

“It’s cold outside. And my socks have holes in them.”

“I just bought you new socks.”

“Oh, yeah.” Cas was quiet for a moment. “They’re probably all in the pile of clothes on my bed.”

Dean snorted and shook his head, resisting the urge to turn in Cas’s arms. Nope. Nothing good could come of that.

“Hey,” Cas said after a while.

“Hm?”

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m used to takin’ care of your dumbass.”

Cas huffed a laugh. “Well thanks for that, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ about.”

“What then?”

“About what I...the, um. My...proposal. It was stupid. I didn’t mean to make things weird or anything.”

Which was a ridiculous thing for him to say, considering he was currently pressed as close as he possibly could be to Dean. It was a form of torture that Dean craved more than he cared to admit.

“Don’t sweat it, Cas,” Dean mumbled again, closing his eyes. “I...appreciate the offer. And trust me, nothing you could say or do at this point will make my life any weirder than it already is, thanks to you.”

“Well you’re very welcome.”

“Mhmm.”

Cas chuckled and flopped onto his back, and Dean immediately missed his warmth and closeness. “Hey, what’s the weather supposed to be like next week?”

“Ah...pretty cold, I think. But dry, as far as I know. Why?”

“Cold enough for frost?”

“Maybe.” Dean frowned. “Probably.”

“Good.”

“Why?”

“I need to harvest, and it’s always best to harvest after the first frost,” Cas said easily, groaning softly as he stretched and pulled the covers up. “If I get that done next week, they should be all dried out and ready to go by the time my current supply is gone.”

“Mmm, I love it when you talk stoner to me,” Dean said groggily. “Go to sleep, Chong.”

“Does that make you Cheech?”

“No,” Dean murmured into his pillow. “That makes me the normal one in this house.”

“Don’t insult yourself like that.”

Dean had no reply.

----

Dean woke to the smell of waffles.

Fuck. Yes.

In all his angsting over whether or not he should fuck his friend, Dean had forgotten that Saturday was waffle day. Actually, it was eat waffles in bed while Cas flipped through People magazines to trash on celebrities day.

Sure enough, there was a stack of them ready to go on Dean’s bed and he had to chuckle as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. Cas’s rituals were bizarre, but Dean not-so-secretly liked them. He wasn’t sure how this particular one started, but with Cas it could have been anything.

Dean stumbled out of bed and yawned as he shuffled into the kitchen. Cas was back in his robe, swaying his hips as he whistled to a tune Dean had never heard. A stack of perfect, golden waffles sat on the counter and Dean hummed, reaching out-

“Ow!” he grimaced, rubbing his hand and glaring at Cas, whose spatula was raised for another strike.

“In. Bed.” Cas said firmly, turning back to the eggs.

“Not my fault you’re late with my breakfast,” Dean grumbled, hopping on the counter and swinging his legs.

“I couldn’t help it,” Cas huffed and Dean finally noticed the joint hanging from his lips. He was too excited for waffles to care that Cas was smoking in the house again . “I had my own personal teddy bear. You get so cuddly when you’re asleep.”

“Shuddup,” Dean muttered, ears burning.

“Make me.”

Dean hopped down from the counter and closed in on Cas’s space, Cas just smirking at him expectantly. Dean realized then that he had no idea what he was going to do, because the idea in his mind of kissing the fucker silly probably wouldn’t be the best way to ignore the feelings he had for him. Instead, he plucked the joint front between Cas’s lips and placed it between his own, turning on his heel and heading to the living room.

“Hey!”

“You’ll get this back when you feed me,” Dean said smugly, hopping over the back of the couch and landing on the cushions with a grunt.

It was a dangerous game he was playing, he knew, because challenging Cas meant an automatic loss for him. There was nothing the guy wouldn’t do, no boundary he wouldn’t cross. It wouldn’t be so bad if Dean wasn’t so fucking enamored by him.

Dean took a long pull of the joint and inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, holding it until he heard Cas’s bare feet on the wood floor behind him. He smiled as he blew the smoke out, holding the joint away from him when Cas reached out, but he grabbed Dean’s shirt instead and pulled him up off the couch and back into the bedroom. He shoved him back onto the bed and was straddling his lap before Dean could protest, and Dean kept his eyes away from his crotch and his mind off of the nudity just beneath thin silk, taking another long drag from the joint before Cas plucked it from his lips and replaced it with a piece of waffle.

Dean hummed as he chewed, grinning up at Cas as the man placed the joint between his own lips and flopped over to his side of the bed with a smug smile. He crossed one ankle over the other and picked up a magazine, flipping through the pages. Dean picked up his plate off the nightstand and dug in, leaning over to look at the “Who wore it best” page.

“Mmm, Sophie Marceau for sure,” Dean mumbled around a huge mouthful of waffle.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause you hate the Kardashians,” Cas laughed.

“So?”

“Good point.” Cas pointed to the next one. “This one?”

The outfit was a black thigh-length turtleneck dress, with studded sleeves and collar, sported by Miranda Lambert and Faith Hill. Both women looked fantastic, so Dean frowned down at the page as he chewed and very carefully considered his answer.

“Man, I really love Miranda, but I’m gonna have to go Faith on this one.”

“Good choice,” Cas said sincerely, running a finger over the photo. “I really love this outfit.”

Dean raised a brow at him. “It’s a dress .”

“So?”

“So you might have a little too much dick for a dress,” Dean snorted, stuffing his mouth with more waffle.

“Don’t be transphobic,” Cas warned quietly without looking up from his magazine.

“‘M not, ‘s’not what I meant,” Dean mumbled, which was the truth, and the tips of his ears burned slightly. “I just mean...you have...little too much goin’ on to get away with it…”

“Oh my, am I blushing?” Cas smirked up at Dean. “I had no idea you’d been looking.”

Dean didn’t take the bait and scoffed as he picked up a piece of bacon. “As much as you swing it out in the open-”

“I would look good in a dress,” Cas said confidently. “You’d be drooling over me.”

“More like gagging.”

“I made you waffles, dammit, be nice.”

Dean chuckled and offered Cas a piece as a peace offering. Cas pulled the joint from his lips and dutifully chewed as he flipped the page.

“Look at this shit,” he grumbled, pointing to a picture of Meghan Markle. “Girl wears her hair in a bun and suddenly it’s news.”

Dean grinned and scooted closer, peering over Cas at the picture. “‘Cinderella vibes’?” he snorted and shook his head. “Every woman who has hair longer than her shoulders wears it a damn bun. Who the hell is Meghan Markle anyway?”

“She married Prince Harry.”

“I’m so sick of this royal family shit,” Dean huffed, stabbing his eggs with his fork. “Jesus, they sneeze and it makes headlines.”

“You’re just jealous you’re not a princess, too,” Cas smirked around his joint, taking a drag.

“She’s a Duchess, not a princess,” Dean mumbled.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Cas patted Dean’s thigh. “You’ll always be my princess.”

“Don’t you dare-”

“I mean, you already have the frilly panties-”

“God dammit , Cas.”

Cas giggled and flipped the page. “Oooh, red carpet, here we go.”

Dean shook his head as he munched on his bacon. “You’re savage, Cas.”

“Only because I can wear any of this better than they could,” Cas shrugged. “Look at this. Skin-tight brown leather. She looks like she’s wrapped in a used condom.”

Dean made a face and smacked Cas on the head. “Dude, I’m eating .”

Cas laughed and flipped the page. “Opinions on Lady Gaga?”

Dean spoke through a mouthful of syrupy waffle. “Great actress, amazing voice. Smokin’ body.”

“A fair assessment.”

“I think so.” Dean cocked his head to the side with a smile and speared another bite.

“Idris Elba named Sexiest Man Alive,” Cas murmured next, reading over the article.

Dean chewed slowly. “Huh.”

“What?” Cas looked up at him critically. “You don’t agree?”

“I mean...he...he’s...um. I guess he’s a good-lookin’ guy.”

Cas snorted. “What a heterosexual answer.”

“Well, I am-”

Cas waved a hand and looked back down at the page. “Spare me.”

Dean stopped chewing and swallowed with a little difficulty, studying the profile of Cas’s face as he frowned down at the article, eyes skimming the page. “The hell does that mean?”

“If you don’t know, then I’m afraid I can’t help you.” Cas casually flipped to the next page without so much as glancing up, looking entirely unbothered.

“I can’t handle your cryptic bullshit right now,” Dean grumbled, eyeing him closely.

“Okay.” Cas closed the magazine and tossed it to the side, turning to face Dean. He passed Dean the joint, sighing as he looked him in the eye, and Dean was surprised to see that he actually seemed like he was thinking hard about what he was going to say, or perhaps how he was going to say it. Cas was usually one to speak first and think later. “We’ve been friends a long time, right?”

Dean narrowed his eyes and sat his plate on the nightstand, taking a pull from the joint and passing it back to Cas. “Right…”

“You know me better than anyone.”

Dean snorted. “I’m the only one who knows the real you.”

“Exactly!” Cas gestured at him with his joint hand, eyebrows raised. “And I think I probably know the real you better than anyone. Except maybe Sam.”

Dean raised a brow. “Do you have a point?”

“I just think...I dunno. I think you’re suppressing parts of yourself. Or rather, one very specific part of yourself.” Cas watched him expectantly.

Dean raised both brows now, pressing his lips together as he shook his head slightly. “And what’s that?”

“That you maybe...um. Shit, you’re really gonna make me be the one to say it?”

Dean licked his lips quickly, frowning down at his lap.

“It’s okay to realize you’re not exactly the person you thought you were,” Cas said softly.

Dean looked back up at him, a slight edge to his voice when he spoke. “This what all that was about yesterday? You thought you’d offer yourself up so I could figure myself out?”

Cas looked genuinely confused. “Isn’t that what friends do for each other?”

Dean looked away, his hands twisting his lap. “I’m not sure sleeping with me so I can decide if I’m straight or not is something that friends normally do.”

“We aren’t normal,” Cas shrugged, looking unconcerned.

Dean scoffed and scrubbed at his face. His sexuality wasn’t the problem. For all intents and purposes, he might as well be straight. The only guy he’d ever been interested in so far was sitting right next to him.

“Doesn’t that…” Dean sighed and squirmed. “Doesn’t that kinda make you feel...used?”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do,” Dean said roughly, scowling at Cas. “And I don’t like that you don’t care about being used. You’re not something to experiment with, Cas. You’re a fucking person, who happens to be one of the most important people in my life.”

“I just…” Cas sighed and Dean noticed how tired he looked, despite sleeping in Dean’s ‘more comfortable’ bed. “I wanted to do this for you. It wouldn’t feel like I was being used...not really.”

“Why?” Dean demanded.

“Because…” Cas huffed and looked like he really wanted another joint. Or maybe something stronger. “I do this kind of thing all the time, but this ...this is different. It’s you and you actually mean something to me and I know I mean something to you. You’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m… worth anything.” He paused and snorted a humorless laugh. “I don’t know why I mean anything to you, but I’m not about looking a gift horse in the mouth.”

Dean stifled a smile and put on the most serious face he could muster. He put his hand over the scar on his own hip then reached out to touch Cas’s. “Because you’re a part of me.”

Cas rolled his eyes and shoved him hard. “I dunno why I even bother talking to you.”

“Okay, okay, seriously.” All traces of humor slowly melted from Dean’s expression, and he gave Cas a nod. “So you’re saying that because I care about you, you don’t mind being an experiment?”

“It sounds bad when you put it that way.”

“It sounds bad any way you put it, buddy.”

Cas huffed a laugh and fingered one of the magazines, shrugging. “All I’m saying is if you need...an avenue, to explore that part of yourself, I’m here. And if it’s not for you, then no harm done.” He looked up and gave Dean a smile. “Not like people don’t think we’re already doing it, anyway.”

“What?!”

“Oh, yeah. Not important.” Cas waved a hand dismissively and suddenly looked very serious again. “My point is, you matter to me no matter what happens between us. So it’s not something I would regret, regardless of what the outcome was, and you don’t and wouldn’t need to feel bad about it, or guilty, because it’s me, and because I’m okay with it.”

“That’s…” Dean swallowed hard and looked down at his lap, “it’s very...generous of you, to offer. But, uh...I still don’t think-”

“You still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Dean glanced up at him somewhat sheepishly. “Yeah. Er, no.”

Cas shrugged. “That’s fine.” He turned back in his spot and laid back against the headboard, pulling another magazine into his lap. “I’m just tryin’ to help.”

“I know,” Dean murmured, running a finger over the patterns of his comforter. “It’s, uh, appreciated. In a weird way.”

Cas continued his usual commentary on the various celebrities, but Dean only half listened. He had maybe, possibly, hoped that Cas’s offer had stemmed more from boredom or- as it was- a way to simply experiment. As tempting as it was, Dean knew himself too well. It could only lead to heartache and, really, casual sex had lost its appeal after college.

Cas was probably right. He was a soft fuck.

Dean finally got out of bed when Cas grew bored of his magazines and announced he was going to greet the morning. Dean rolled his eyes, knowing all that meant was Cas stripping off his robe to stand in the backyard naked. To keep himself from peeking, Dean took a long shower and absolutely did not jerk off as he pictured Cas’s nude form.

Fuck, he was so lost on the guy he was never coming back.

Chapter Text

“Finley Grace, if you don’t leave that cat alone-!”

Dean snorted into the phone as he kicked the door shut behind him, walking into the kitchen and depositing the case of beer he’d bought for Charlie’s party on the counter and throwing a pack of cigarettes for Cas alongside it. 

“That’s my girl.”

Sam made a disapproving noise. “I could kill Cas for getting her a cat. Three is too young to understand the responsibilities that come with owning a pet.”

“Aw, come on, Cas was really excited to give her that little demon,” Dean chuckled, tearing into the box and pulling out a beer. He popped the cap off and tossed it in the trash as he raised the bottle to his lips. “Look at it as...an opportunity for growth.”

“For me or Finley?”

“Both.” 

Sam sighed. “Well. As much as she seems to terrorize the little guy during the day, he does opt to sleep in her bedroom versus mine and Eileen’s.”

“Maybe he’s a glutton for punishment.”

“So he’s you?”

“Ouch, dude.” Dean frowned and took a long swig of his beer. “What are you doin’ with Finn tonight, anyway?”

“Mom’s gonna come watch her. Dad offered to be our DD if we need one.” Sam huffed a laugh. “Seemed really adamant about it, actually. At least we know he’s still taking sobriety seriously.”

It was true. John Winchester had been an alcoholic since as long as Dean could remember. He was never an angry drunk, and in fact, Sam and Dean had a great childhood even considering that fact. But it had gotten so bad about ten years ago that Mary had threatened to leave, and John quickly straightened himself out. He’d driven Dean and Cas to and from parties often since then, and sometimes he was even the one to drop Cas back at their place after one of his all-night trysts. Dean never understood why Cas called John instead of him, considering Dean knew what was going on anyway, but he assumed it was habit by now and he never asked. As long as Cas was getting around without putting himself in danger, he had no complaints.

“Dean?” 

Dean glanced over his shoulder when he heard Cas’s voice coming from his room, but the man didn’t emerge. 

“That you?”

“Yeah!” Dean called back, crossing over to the couch and falling into the cushions. 

“Who are you talking to?” Sam asked, voice slightly muffled and Finley’s maniacal giggles loud in Dean’s ear.

“Just Cas,” Dean muttered, taking another sip of his beer. “So what are y’all dressing up as?”

“You’ll just-” Sam grunted and Finley giggled, “-have to find out when we get there.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.” 

“Doesn’t matter anyway. Cas and I are taking first prize.”

Sam gave an incredulous laugh. “Not with those same Batman and Robin costumes, you’re not.”

“Hey-!” Dean choked on the next words out of his mouth when Cas emerged from his room, intricately painted from head to toe, his crotch the only thing that was just barely covered by extremely tight briefs. Like, Rocky’s golden shorts tight. Dean swallowed and coughed, mouth opening and closing as he tried to make his brain work coherently enough to produce some semblance of a sound. 

So they’d ultimately- after much arguing from Dean about the popularity of their Batman and Robin costumes, specifically the tights- decided on going to Charlie’s party as Bob Ross and one of his paintings, but Dean had no idea Cas planned to dedicate literally his entire body to the cause. 

“Sam, I gotta go. See you at Charlie’s.”

“What-”

Dean hung up the phone and tossed it to the side, scrubbing a hand over his mouth and gesturing- what he hoped was casually- to Cas. “Uh, I, um...that’s...wow.”

“Is it good? Took me all fucking day.” Cas looked down at his stomach, barely touching the water part of his landscape. “Abaddon came and did what I couldn't reach. It’s only just dried.”

“You let Abaddon into my house?”

“ Our house. And yes.”

Dean scowled and took a swig of his beer. She was nice enough to Cas, but she gave Dean crazy, evil queen vibes. It didn’t help that she always wore Satan paraphernalia, including little sparkling horns in her hair. 

“Well?” Cas demanded, looking at Dean expectedly. “You didn’t answer me.”

Dean swallowed and forced himself to look at the frankly amazing work Cas did. The guy was good with a paintbrush, any kind of artform really, but it was made even more amazing that he probably did this looking into a mirror and thus had to work backwards. Nevermind the fact that it only served to show off his stupid hot body and those fucking gorgeous thighs. And those briefs weren’t hiding anything.

“It’s, uh,” he cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t blushing. “It’s good, Cas. Really. Gonna make my costume look lazy.”

“Well, it was the only way to keep my ass out of green tights,” Cas huffed and stood in front of Dean, gesturing towards his beer. “Gimme.”

“Get your own,” Dean said, sticking out his tongue.

“Put it away or use it, Winchester.”

“You have paint all over you,” Dean raised a brow, pointedly taking another sip. “Where would I lick you?”

“It’s non-toxic.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean snorted, stretching his arm to keep his beer out of Cas’s reach. “Unless it tastes like chocolate, my tongue is staying inside my mouth.”

“So you’re saying if I were to cover myself in chocolate paint, you would lick it off?” Cas challenged, smirking down at Dean.

“No, remember?” Dean smirked back. “I’m a soft fuck. I don’t do the kinky shit. Too bad for you.”

Cas scowled and stomped off to get his own beer. If he hadn’t been covered in a masterpiece, Dean was positive Cas would have wrestled the beer out of his hand. 

“How long is it gonna take you to wash all of that off?” Dean chuckled when Cas came back, pouting at his beer.

“It’s water-based,” Cas shrugged. “But I’ll probably find paint in weird places for the next couple of days.” He sat on the arm of the couch next to Dean and smiled sweetly. “You could help scrub me down tonight after the party.”

“You don’t pay me enough for a sponge bath.”

“What’s your rate?”

Dean thought for a moment. “One nude-free day for every 10 minutes.”

“You’re right, I can’t afford that,” Cas sighed. “Why are the pretty ones so high maintenance?” 

“You think I’m pretty?” Dean dramatically batted his eyelashes.

“I think we’ve established what I think,” Cas murmured, standing and tipping his beer back as he walked back toward his room. “C’mon. Let’s get you dressed.”

“Can dress myself!” Dean called after him, but he was already gone.

----

Their costume was a hit as soon as they walked through the doors, as Dean expected, and he was honestly excited to hear the results of the costume contest this year. Sam was dressed as Dexter, and Eileen was scantily clad herself in nothing but a nude bra and panties, her body wrapped in plastic wrap. She was relieved when Dean and Cas had arrived, immediately looping her arm through Cas’s, the two of them heading off together.

“Great,” Sam muttered, throwing his hands up. “Now I’ll definitely be taking care of her tonight. You know she can’t handle her alcohol when she smokes.”

“You knew the risks,” Dean grinned, taking a sip of his beer. 

“My costume doesn’t make sense without her. I look like a jackass.”

“Really?” Dean raised a brow and pointedly gestured to his afro and blue button-up with khakis combo. “And since you brought it up, I gotta say, I’m a little disturbed by your fascination with serial killers.”

“True crime is a hobby , Dean.”

Dean cocked his head to the side and raised his bottle to his lips again. “Whatever you say, Gacy.”

Sam glared at him, unamused. “You know I hate clowns.”

“Oops, forgot,” Dean winked and chuckled when Sam punched him hard in the shoulder, rubbing the now bruising area.  

“Least I’m not wearing a ‘fro,” Sam uttered, still scowling.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I can actually make it look good,” Dean shrugged.

“Saw a little more than I wanted to of Cas,” Sam snorted as he glanced around, taking a sip of his beer and smiling when Garth waved hello at them. 

“Dude,” Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t get to bitch. He walks around the house naked every damn day. The fact that he actually wore something over his dick for this thing is a miracle.”

“Paint looks good, though,” Sam shrugged as they started to mingle within the crowd. 

“Dean!” Charlie grinned as she came over, giving him a big hug and giggling when he kissed her cheek. “What are you supposed to be?”

“Bob Ross,” Dean sighed.

“Ah,” she nodded, grin widening. “That would explain Cas. Sorry, Sam, I think they might win it this year.”

“I look better with Eileen next to me!” Sam insisted, casting his eyes about the room in hopes of finding his wife.

“Don’t bother,” Charlie chuckled with a shake of her head. “Cas already has a blunt shoved in her mouth. I think they went outside.”

“Shit.” Sam stalked off to find them and Dean clicked his tongue.

“Sure, for you he smokes outside,” Dean scoffed. “But I come home to a cloud every day.”

“Don’t blame me if you can’t make your boytoy behave,” Charlie raised a brow and bumped his shoulder. 

“He’s not my boytoy,” Dean muttered. 

“You’re right,” Charlie nodded seriously. “He’s totally a top. You’re the boytoy.”

“We’re not- ” Dean growled and pressed his lips together, shaking his head slightly. “We’re not a couple, Charlie. We’re not sleeping together. So your assessment is all in your head.”

“Mmm,” Charlie hummed, unbothered, eyes lighting up as she looked across the room. “Holy shit. Leia in her golden bikini!” 

Dean followed her eyeline and sighed and rolled his eyes. “That’s your wife .”

“So it is,” she grinned, slapping him on the back. “See ya, Dean.”

Charlie skipped across the room and practically threw herself into Dorothy’s arms, hugging her around the middle as she pulled her in for a kiss. Dean huffed a laugh through his nose and made his way through the room, seeing Cas with Eileen and Sam on the other side of Charlie’s sliding glass door that led to the deck. 

“You know, Cas, the purpose of wearing a couples’ costume is defeated when one half is off doing his own thing,” he grumbled as he slid the door shut behind him. “I look like an idiot in there by myself.”

Cas raised a brow. “As opposed to…?”

Dean would’ve punched him in the arm if he wasn’t worried about messing up his paint.

“Eileen,” Dean said, giving her a quick once-over. “You’re lookin’...well, to be frank, way too good to be with my brother, here.” He nudged Sam, who gave him a half-hearted shove.

“This was all his idea,” Eileen rolled her eyes. “I’m so uncomfortable. Thank god Cas came here in somehow more exposed than I did.”

“Solidarity.” Cas pumped his fist in the air, and Eileen giggled, her eyes already red and squinty. She passed the blunt back to Cas and took Sam’s arm.

“Okay, now that I have a bit more courage...let’s get back in there and mingle.”

The two went back inside and Dean leaned up against the railing of the deck, letting his arms dangle over the side. 

“You gotta be freezing, dude,” he said as he looked over at Cas, who was blowing fine smoke onto his blunt and watching intently as it burned. 

“You ever think about the future?” Cas asked him instead, suddenly, looking out over Charlie’s backyard and frowning. Thankfully Dean had known Cas long enough that he’d come to expect these random tangents or conversations, and he’d learned quickly that it was much easier to just go along with them than it was to question them.

“Um...sometimes, yeah. Sure.”

“Mmm.”

Dean huffed a laugh and shook his head slightly. “Wanna elaborate?”

Cas glanced up at him and looked back at his blunt quickly, finally raising it to his lips and taking a drag. “Dunno, I just…” he blew the smoke out and tapped the blunt against the deck, extinguishing the cherry. “I’m almost thirty. I don’t hate my life, or anything like that, but sometimes I wonder what I should’ve done differently. Like I didn’t do enough or have untapped potential, or something. Wonderin’ if you ever feel the same.”

If only he could tell Cas exactly how much he felt the same. But he couldn’t, because the only thing Dean wished he’d done differently is told Cas how he felt about him when it all started. Now he’d just embarrass himself and look like a jackass and lose his best friend.

“I think everyone feels that way at some point or another,” Dean said carefully, looking down at his beer.

There was a long pause before Cas finally responded with a soft “yeah”, and when Dean looked up Cas was staring at him. He didn’t avert his gaze, though, like a normal person would, instead giving Dean a smile and leaning back against the railing beside him.

Cas wordlessly held out his hand and Dean handed him his beer, watching Cas take a sip. He silently obsessed over the way Cas’s throat bobbed as he swallowed and then mentally kicked himself for fueling his already overactive imagination. 

“Feeling a little introspective tonight?” Dean asked, his voice a little rougher than he meant it to be. But when Cas was right next to him and practically naked, it was hard to keep a straight head. Straight being the operative word. 

“I guess,” Cas murmured, handing the beer back. 

Dean knew why. Cas’s birthday was approaching and the guy always got a little...weird about it. Weirder for Cas, anway. Melancholy, quiet, even if he was high out of his mind. He rarely went out to celebrate, often times preferring only Dean’s company and sometimes not even that. 

“You don’t think you’ve done enough with your life?” Dean asked carefully, tapping his finger on the neck of the bottle.

“I think…” Cas said slowly, squinting up at the sky briefly. “I may have wasted parts of it. Or spent so much waiting on things...things I can’t have.”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of things?”

Castiel suddenly pushed off the railing, heading towards the glass doors. “Party’s inside. Let’s go show off our costume.”

Cas disappeared into the crowd and Dean sighed, following after him. 

They ended up winning second place in the costume contest, after Benny and Andrea showed up as a very detailed Beetlejuice and Lydia- which Cas nearly creamed himself over- but they beat out Sam and Eileen, so Dean was happy with the opportunity to gloat. 

The party continued until early in the morning. Dean stopped drinking around the time that Sam and Eileen bowed out to go pick up Finley, hanging close by to Cas to keep an eye on him. He was strangely tame the night, though he seemed fine, considering their earlier conversation. He only had maybe a handful of beers and the rest of his blunt, only smelling faintly of beer, weed, and cigarettes when the two of them got in the Impala to head home. Dean silently hoped the smell would dissipate before he had to drive again.

By the time they got back home it was almost 2 a.m. Cas’s paint was smudged in a few places but overall still impressively in place. Cas was headed to the bathroom when Dean stopped him, finally noticed what the painting was depicting.

“Hold on...is this Winchester Square Park?”

Cas stared at him for a beat before he smiled, looking down at his body, then nodding. “Yeah. Took you long enough to notice.”

“Well, I...I’ll be honest, I don’t think I would’ve, if it wasn’t for the tree.”

----

17 years earlier

The trip from Sioux Falls to Toronto took them two days by car. John had wanted to fly, but Dean’s intense aversion to planes caused Mary to convince him the drive would be more enjoyable. 

Jimmy had just moved in with a new foster family, and things weren’t going well. It took almost no convincing on Dean’s part to allow him to tag along. Jimmy happily did so, sitting in the backseat between Dean and Sam. It’s where Dean learned that Jimmy was incapable of staying awake for more than an hour or so at a time in the car, and he spent the majority of the ride slumped over onto either Dean or Sam, snoring softly. 

A part of Dean really relished that, though he was unsure why.

During their weeklong stay they saw Niagara Falls, went on a small cruise around the inner harbour, and went to a medieval times dinner show, but Dean’s favorite part of the trip, by far, was the small last minute visit to Winchester Square Park on their way out of town. It was underwhelming, to be honest, with little more than a playground and dog park, but it would be the last chance they got to stretch their legs before the first 8-hour leg of their trip back home. 

John and Mary accompanied Sam to the swing set, and Jimmy followed Dean down one of the open pathways, the two of them sharing earbuds for Dean’s crappy little MP3 player. “What Is and What Never Should Be” played softly enough that they could still talk to one another, eventually veering off to sit under a bench beside a large oak tree.

Jimmy pulled out a small disposable camera he’d purchased at the Niagara Falls gift shop, silently taking a couple of pictures of their surroundings while Dean picked absently at his nails. He watched Jimmy curiously as the boy bent over in his seat to pick up a rock that almost looked like it’d been sharpened, and he held it up for Dean to see with a small smile.

“Kinda looks like an arrowhead, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does,” Dean said, smiling at him in return. 

Jimmy nodded once and stood, handing Dean his earbud before taking a few steps over to the closest tree. Dean watched him raise the rock to the tree and start carving.

Jimmy finally stepped back a few minutes later, gesturing proudly at his work. It was his initials, JM, and just above that, DW.

“What do you think?”

Dean quirked a smile and stood, taking the rock from Jimmy and situating himself between him and the tree. He created a couple of scratches of his own, giving the finished product a long look before finally nodding and taking a step back. 

“There. Now it’s perfect.”

JM now read JW, and Jimmy smiled, his eyes a little watery as he stepped forward to run the tips of his fingers along the carving. Dean sat back on the bench as the song neared its end, watching Jimmy admire their work. 

“...only goes to show, that you will be mine, by takin’ our time…”

----

“Fuck, dude, you even got the initials and everything.”

Cas snorted. “Yeah. Guess I’ll be needing to make a trip back up there to change them again. Shoulda done that ages ago.”

“We’ll make a trip out of it,” Dean grinned, absently tracing the initials and forgetting the painting was on Cas’s skin, not canvas. “I got some vacation days to use up.”

“Really?” Cas raised a brow, his smile broadening. “You never take a vacation.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged, finally pulling away when he realized he was basically caressing Cas’s torso. “I could use one. Get out of Sioux Falls for a little while.”

Cas eyed him for a long moment before he nodded, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Okay, let’s do it. Just, uh...just the two of us?” he asked in a tone Dean couldn’t place.

Dean nodded and shrugged again. “Sure, why not? Sammy can’t leave Eileen and the kid for that long, and mom and dad don’t do those long drives anymore.”

Cas licked his lips and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Then yes. I would like to go.”

“Awesome,” Dean grinned again. “It’ll be great. We’ll sleep in crappy motels and I’ll drive for two days while you snore in the backseat.”

Cas scoffed and turned, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m not that bad.”

“Dude, you fall asleep within 20 minutes of any car ride,” Dean said, following after him. 

“I enjoy the gentle rocking of the car,” Cas defended, stepping inside the bathroom and starting up the spray. 

“You enjoy being chauffeured around.”

“You won’t let me drive the Impala.”

“That’s because your driving sucks.”

Cas stuck his tongue out and started to pull off his skin-tight briefs. “Either help me scrub this paint off or go away.”

Dean opted to leave because he sure as hell didn’t trust himself around a wet, naked Cas. He’d cave in for sure and then things would be pretty damn awkward. 

He undressed down to his boxers, took off the ‘fro, and climbed into bed with his laptop. He should have been exhausted, and he was, but Dean just didn’t feel like sleeping. Plus, after becoming so accustomed to it, it was difficult to sleep without Cas beside him. He dicked around on Facebook and Youtube until he finally heard the shower shut off. Cas stepped out moments later, scrubbing a towel through his hair, his body damp and paint free.

“Clothes,” Dean grunted.

“Imprisonment,” Cas shot back as he stepped into his own room.

Dean rolled his eyes and waited, looking up when Cas shuffled in begrudgingly wearing boxers and slipped into bed.

“What are we watching?” Cas settled next to him, curling under the covers and stealing Dean’s pillow.

“Ted Bundy Files,” Dean said, stealing his pillow back and letting Cas pout.

“Ah, charming and deadly,” Cas murmured, pulling a blunt out of nowhere and lighting up. Dean sighed, but didn’t argue because he kind of wanted some too. 

“Creepy as fuck, too.”

“But intelligent.”

“Kinda like you,” Dean grinned. 

“Yes,” Cas said seriously, passing it Dean and watching him take a drag. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Even if you were a murderer,” Dean snorted, passing the blunt back. “I would be fine. You wouldn’t be able to function without me.”

“Sad, but true,” Cas chuckled and reached over to click ‘play’. “If you ever get married and move out, I’m gonna be a damn mess.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” Dean said sincerely. The thought of marriage to anyone but Cas made him so friggin’ depressed that he never even considered it anymore. 

“You’ll leave me one day,” Cas shrugged, taking a deep drag and blowing it out slowly. 

“Have I ever left you?” Dean said, eyes on the screen as Bundy’s voice came on. “For anyone? Anything?”

Cas was silent for so long Dean thought he wouldn’t get an answer. Or maybe Cas had fallen asleep. When Dean looked down, though, he saw Cas staring at him so intently it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

“No…” Cas finally said softly. “No, you haven’t.”

“Well. There ya go,” Dean shrugged, turning back to the screen. 

“You know you can’t keep waitin’ around here ‘cause of me,” Cas said, and Dean’s heart skipped a beat. He kept his face carefully even, eyes on the screen.

“I’d be fine if you left,” Cas continued, nudging Dean’s hand to give him the blunt. “I mean, I’d miss the hell out of you, but I’d make it. I just...don’t want you hangin’ around here ‘cause you think I can’t handle myself. Not fair for you to miss out on something amazing ‘cause you’re parenting me.”

Dean huffed. “I don’t parent you.”

“Mmm.”

“And anyway,” Dean took a hit of the blunt and passed it back to Cas, who was slouched against the headboard, blanket barely draped over his legs. “I’m not missin’ out on anything, believe me.”

“Jo definitely stopped seein’ you because she hated me.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“And Lisa refused to come here because I was here. And she got mad whenever you left to drive me somewhere, or pick me up, or-”

“And that’s part of the reason we broke up,” Dean shrugged, watching Cas as he hit the blunt himself and ashed it in the old soda can he must have left on the nightstand earlier that day. 

“And that’s my point,” Cas said. “Ever think all your relationships fail ‘cause of me?”

Cas had no idea just how right he was, but Dean couldn’t tell him that. He just shrugged again and looked back at the tv. 

“Wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” Dean said nonchalantly. “I wasn’t ready for commitment when Jo was. And Lisa…” he paused, chewing his lip. Honestly, Cas actually was a lot of the reason for that one. But it wasn’t like Dean would’ve married her, anyway. “Lisa and I just weren’t compatible in the end. Trust me, you’re not holdin’ me back.”

Cas licked his lips slowly and looked down at the blunt in his hand, taking a long drag before passing it back to Dean. 

“Fine, whatever. All I’m sayin’ is, I don’t want to be the reason you pass up somethin’ you really want. Don’t want you feeling guilty for doing something you want to do ‘cause you worried about me. Could always move in with Missouri.” The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly.

“She’d love that.”

“I know. I’m practically the cat whisperer.”

Dean chuckled and hit the blunt, licking the disgusting grape flavor of the wrap from his lips, his eyes and head fuzzy. “Fuck. I’m fucked up. This yours?”

“The last bit of mine that I’d saved for personal consumption,” Cas grinned, taking the blunt back and snuffing it out carefully enough to save the rest. “Unfortunately I gotta sell the rest to make rent this month.”

“So back to the shit stuff, then.”

“Aww. You’re such a sweet talker.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “You’re my best friend, Cas. I’m not goin’ anywhere. A part of each other, right?”

“Technically speaking, only I am a part of you .”

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole.”

Cas grinned again and nudged Dean’s shoulder. “But you loveee me.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you doooo,” Cas sang, leaning in closer to rest his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “Say it.”

“Fuck off.”

“Say you love me.”

Dean smirked. “You love me.”

“No, no, no,” Cas shook his head and pushed the laptop away, straddling Dean’s legs and bumping their foreheads together. “Say it. It will please me.”

“You’re blocking the view,” Dean huffed in mock annoyance. He kind of loved it when Cas straddled him, which the man often did to make Dean do things.

“Not gonna move until you say it.”

“Fine, I love you. Asshole. Now get off.”

Cas grinned and rolled off, settling by Dean’s side once again. “You’re so easy.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“Even when you’re high you’re so mean to me.”

“I let you sleep in my bed,” Dean said, gesturing pointedly at the two of them. “Even when you hog all the damn covers and snore in my ear.”

“You’re the one who latches onto me like a leech,” Cas snorted. “If I’m snoring in your ear, it’s only because you put me there.”

Dean blushed and licked his lips. Okay, so he was a cuddler. Whatever. He liked having a warm body to snuggle up to. Cas happened to be the warm body he had most nights.

“I don’t see you complaining,” he mumbled. 

“True,” Cas nodded. “Who would complain about having such hot guy wrapping his arms around him?”

“Stop trying to flatter me.”

They went quiet for a while, watching the show and both inexplicably fighting off sleep. 

“Sure you don’t mind?” Cas asked softly.

“Mind what?”

“Sleeping next to me when you could be sleeping next to Lisa or something.”

“Didn’t we cover this?” Dean clicked his tongue and shut the laptop, setting it down on his nightstand. “Besides, Lisa didn’t like cuddling and she always wanted it insanely warm. And Jo kicked me so much I had bruises. Far as I’m concerned, you’re damn near perfect to have in bed.”

“Except the penis part?” Cas snorted. 

“I’ve seen your dick enough that it hardly matters anymore,” Dean rolled his eyes as he scooched down, pulling the covers over both of them. “And, you know, even if I hadn’t...it still wouldn’t bother me.”

Cas raised a brow in surprise. “Really?”

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was high and shouldn’t be saying things, but he was high so he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut. “I’m not stupid, Cas. I know I’m not...like, 100% straight, okay? I dunno what I am. All I know is your dick is not really a factor in what makes you a perfect sleeping partner.”

“Never said you were stupid,” Cas mumbled quietly, fiddling with the covers in the dark. After a moment of silence Dean felt his arm drape over his stomach. “Now c’mere, huggy bear.”

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, but rolled onto his side and shivered as Cas pressed up behind him, hugging him tightly to his body, resting his forehead against Dean’s back. Dean sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his muscles begin to relax slowly as he began to drift.

“Night, Cas,” he murmured drowsily.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

----

He knew the second that he woke up that he had morning wood.

And it definitely wasn’t as if he’d never gotten it before , or even that he’d never gotten it when Cas was sleeping in the bed with him. But it was the first time that Cas was just... staring at it, laying on his back with his head propped against the headboard, smoking what was left of his blunt.

He looked unbothered when he looked over at Dean, and Dean felt his cheeks heat under his gaze.

“I-” he cleared his throat roughly, “um. Sorry. I’ll just-”

He tried to turn onto his side, to get up out of the bed and go to the bathroom to take care of his- unfortunate, in this case- situation. A strong hand on his hip stopped him, rolled him onto his back again, and Dean looked over at Cas with wide eyes.

Cas said nothing, but he slid down in bed, plucking the blunt from his lips and placing it carefully between Dean’s. Before Dean realized what was going on Cas was between his legs and looking up at him with bloodshot blue eyes, fingers hooked into Dean’s boxers and tugging them down.

Dean grabbed his wrist as he pulled the blunt from between his lips with his other hand. “Cas, what are you-”

“It’s fine,” Cas said softly, licking his lips. “I’ll stop. Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Dean pressed his tongue to the top of his teeth, his lips slightly parted, his eyes locked with Cas’s. His heart was close to hammering out of his chest, the smell of weed stinging his nostrils, his chest rising and falling with every shaky breath. Very slowly he lifted his fingers from Cas’s wrist, and suddenly Cas’s stare was too intense, too much. He let out a breath as he lowered his head back to his pillow, lifting the blunt to his lips and squeezing his eyes shut while Cas unhurriedly relieved him of his boxers.

Cas’s hands slid slowly back up his thighs, and it felt like an eternity before Dean felt the tip of his tongue hesitantly brush over the head of his cock. He swallowed hard and tensed when the jolt of pleasure coursed through him, then suppressed a moan within a hum when he felt his lips wrap around his cock.

However good Dean had always imagined Cas would be at this, it was nothing compared to how good Cas actually was. For as much as Dean wanted to hate it, as much as he wanted to be able to say it didn’t drive him crazy, that maybe he wasn’t in love with his best friend, after all...there was no way for him to deny that Cas was by far the best blowjob he’d ever gotten. It was barely a minute before Cas had him a moaning, whining mess. He held the man’s head and thrusted shallowly while Cas hummed and sucked and licked around him, gripping his ass to push him deeper, and before Dean knew it he was on the precipice. 

“Cas, fuck, Cas, please, I’m gonna-” he begged, tugging at Cas’s hair.

But Cas just sank down deeper, laving his tongue over Dean’s shaft, and Dean came hard with a choked cry, his hand falling to Cas’s jaw as he groaned lowly.

Cas pulled off and licked his lips again, glancing up at Dean with a neutral expression. Dean looked back at him, in an intense post-orgasm haze, panting hard. He watched with widened eyes as Cas simply slid Dean’s boxers up his legs and back in place, then gave Dean a brief smile before throwing back the covers and slipping out of bed. He padded to the kitchen without a word, leaving Dean to stare wordlessly after him, unsure of what to do or say, and wondering exactly where they stood now. 

What was left of the blunt was still between his fingers, a long ash on the end, and Dean sighed as he dropped it in the ashtray. He got out of bed and dressed, his breathing only just going back to normal. 

Cas was in the kitchen pouring coffee when Dean approached skeptically, sliding his hand along the counter on his way to the mug cabinet. 

Cas turned to him then, handing Dean his favorite mug- an old glass Batman and Riddler collector’s mug from the 90’s. Dean actually had one as a kid that he broke before he and Cas moved in together after high school, and Cas surprised him with a full set of new ones as a housewarming present.

“Uh, thanks,” Dean said awkwardly, squeezing his eyes shut and sighing.

“Are you thanking me for the coffee or the orgasm?” Cas asked evenly as he hopped up on the counter with his own coffee, causing Dean to promptly choke on the first sip of his own.

“T-the- well, the coffee, but- but the o-org...that was good too,” Dean cleared his throat quickly. “Great, actually...um-”

“Dean, please,” Cas said with a shake of his head, waving a hand. “It’s not a big deal. You don’t have to gay panic over it or anything. You don’t have to even tell anyone, and I won’t bring it up again. You can pretend it never happened, if you want.”

Dean frowned but Cas looked serious, looking at him evenly over the top of his mug as he took a sip. 

“Is...is that what you want?”

“I think perhaps it would be easier if you just forgot about it,” Cas said with a shrug. “So I helped you out? You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He paused, eyebrows furrowed, then gestured to Dean with his mug. “You know that.”

“Just...forget about it,” Dean murmured, looking down at his mug, running his thumb over the design absently.

“I think that would be best.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his mug away. The comment- or rather, the conversation itself- stung more than Cas probably realized. And it wasn’t his fault; not really. Dean never voiced his feelings and Cas had always been casual with sex. It would never mean what it meant for Dean. Knowing that, though, didn’t make this any easier and for the first time in a long time, Dean didn’t want to be around Cas. Not with his eyes stinging and his heart breaking over the fact that Cas wanted Dean to forget it. Pretend it never happened.

Dean took a deep breath and left wordlessly, heading towards his room and shutting the door. He stood there for a moment, not knowing what to do with himself. Days off usually meant spending time with Cas, but he knew he couldn’t keep his emotions in check. Not right now. 

Dean got dressed and grabbed his keys. Cas was nowhere in sight when he came back out and headed towards the door. He would distract himself with groceries. They were down to almost nothing and they couldn’t live off weed, despite what Cas might think.

The grocery store, however, was not as fun by himself. He usually dragged Cas with him, who would spend the entire time skipping down the aisle and bringing Dean random shit, weird food, and a huge box of condoms. This time it was just Dean, buying the same boring basics they always needed, feeling so utterly alone it made his chest hurt. 

He got home and was bringing in the first load when he spotted Cas in the living room, wringing his hands in an uncharacteristic sign of anxiety and looking about ready to just burst into tears. Dean dropped the bags and the noise had Cas’s head whipping around, his glassy eyes widening before he practically tripped over himself to get to Dean.

“Cas, what the-” Dean caught him, stumbling back a bit.

“Thought you left,” Cas mumbled shakily, his voice muffled by Dean’s shirt, arms tightening around his waist. “Didn’t say anything to me and I came back inside and you were just gone and you weren’t answering your phone-”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed and he patted his pockets, realizing he must have left it in his room. He swallowed, the situation becoming clear, and he slowly ushered Cas to the couch. For the most part, Cas acted like the foster care part of his life didn’t affect him. He shrugged off the fact that his parents gave him up when he was a baby and he never commented how many times he got tossed around from family to family. Dean wasn’t a psychologist, but even he knew that Cas had some abandonment issues. It wasn’t usually a problem, since Dean was always there, but now he could see what his little impromptu trip to the store might look like from Cas’s perspective.

He sat down and pulled Cas close, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on top of his head. Cas held onto his shirt and sniffled, his forehead pressed to Dean’s chest. He just needed the closeness, the comfort of knowing he wasn’t alone, which Dean was more than capable of providing even considering his own internal battle. They didn’t need to talk. In fact, Cas would prefer they didn’t.

After several minutes Cas sat up and rubbed irritably at his red, watery eyes, not making eye contact.

“Sorry,” he murmured, drawing his legs up on the couch with him. “God, it’s so stupid. Ignore me.”

That hit a little close to his “forget it” sentiment earlier, and Dean frowned down at his own lap, chewing his lip. 

“‘S not stupid,” Dean said softly. “Shoulda told you where I was goin’. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”

Cas scoffed and shook his head, annoyed with himself, and he sniffed again and cleared his throat. “Thought you were mad at me.” He looked over at Dean sadly. “You know I hate when you’re mad at me. Can’t fuckin’ stand it.”

Cas didn’t really give two shits about what anyone else thought of him, or if they liked him or not. In fact, he seemed to revel in the fact that most people were put off by him or didn’t know how to handle him. But with Dean, it was true. The guy practically went to pieces when Dean was upset with him, or even if he suspected he was.

“Not mad,” Dean said simply, desperately hoping Cas wouldn’t press the issue.

Cas looked at him for a long time, finally nodding and forcing a small smile. “Okay. Yeah, okay. Good.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” It was the truth.

“I know.” Cas sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. 

Dean raised a brow, dipping his head to look Cas in the eye. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He half hoped that Cas would assume he meant the blowjob incident, although he knew that eventually Cas would also need to discuss his abandonment issues with someone.

“God, no,” Cas laughed, looking up at the ceiling. “No. I’m just… glad you’re here now. All’s good in my world again.”

That shouldn’t have fucking hurt the way it did, but Dean thought he hid the direct shot to his heart pretty well.

“Okay,” Dean said simply, glancing at the door. “I gotta get the rest of the food.”

Cas jumped up to help him, seemingly eager to be useful, and together they hauled the rest of the load inside. Cas flipped on the stereo because he couldn’t stand silence, and Beastie Boys came blasting through the speakers.

“Figured we could, uh, make pizza tonight,” Dean cleared his throat, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. 

“Did you get pre-made dough?”

“No,” Dean chuckled. “I know you like makin’ your own so you can toss it in the air.”

“It tastes better that way,” Cas insisted.

“It literally makes no difference.”

“Says the man who can’t cook worth shit.”

“Hey,” Dean held up an eggplant, pointing it at Cas. “I make an awesome grilled cheese.” He tossed the eggplant into a basket on the counter, ignoring Cas’s pretentious scoff.

“Get out of my kitchen so I can make us real food,” Cas shooed him away and Dean was only too happy to leave, snagging a soda from the fridge. Things almost felt normal again until he glanced into his bedroom and remembered what had transpired that morning. His heart skipped and his cock twitched, and he told both to cool it. He still didn’t know how to act around Cas now, despite Cas insisting it wasn’t a big deal. Your best friend’s mouth on your cock would always be a big deal in Dean’s book and he hasn’t even fully processed it yet. 

Cas made pasta and salad for lunch, and things seemed to slip back into somewhat normalcy as they ate and watched Netflix. Hesitant at first, Cas slowly but surely moved ever closer to Dean on the couch until he was in his customary spot, pressed right up against Dean’s side with no thought whatsoever to personal space. It took Dean a while to realize Cas was actually in clothes. Loose fitting jeans that hung off his hips and one of Dean’s old shirts, which was most he’d seen the guy wear inside the house in a while.

“Why are you in clothes?” Dean asked. Well, more like blurted, because he’s an idiot and doesn’t know how to think before he opens his mouth.

Cas blinked and looked down at himself, hands fiddling in his lap as he bit his lip. “You don’t like it when I walk around naked,” he finally said, his tone flat, and Dean felt like a complete asshole for the second time that day.

“You…” Dean huffed, drumming his fingers on his knee. “You know I don’t actually care, right? I’ve lived with you for years, Cas. I’m used to the nudity. I just like to give you a hard time. Take them off.”

“What?”

Dean flapped his hand at Cas. “Take them off. It’s weird.”

Cas frowned, but he stood up and shucked his shirt and stepped out of the jeans, throwing them both over the back of the couch. Dean secretly hoped he’d lose the underwear too, with the simultaneous plea that he’d keep them on for his sanity, and he wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when Cas opted to leave them on. He sat back down, folding his legs up on the couch with him, his hands clasped in his lap.

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, glancing at him briefly before looking pointedly back at the television. “All good now.”

And it was, for the most part. Despite what had transpired, Cas was still the same guy he always was. Dean took comfort in the fact that they could always just be them . So he was in love with his best friend? He’d dealt with his feelings for this long, he could push this recent experience down to continue doing so.

Dean put on Schitt’s Creek - a show that Charlie had been recommending to him for months now- and they watched the first couple of episodes in mostly silence, save for laughter every so often. Cas popped them some popcorn and sat back down again, situating the bowl in his lap and occasionally casually feeding Dean a few pieces, eyes never straying from the screen.

“Is it just me, or is David insanely hot?” he said randomly, halfway through episode three. 

“Um…”

“Just say yes.”

Dean huffed a laugh, nodding slowly. “Yes. Yes, he is.”

“Thank you.”

The weird thing was that yes, Dean did think that the character was hot, which was more than his brain would ever allow him to think about another man besides Cas before. Perhaps the blowjob was a means to helping beat his mental block about the denial of his own sexual preferences.

“He’s funny, too.”

Cas looked over at him and smiled, nodding slightly. “Yeah. The whole package.”

“Really?” Dean raised a brow. “That’s all it takes?”

Cas laughed, eyes crinkling in the corners, nose scrunching up in the way that Dean so loved. “Well...he’s also very caring. I would say that goes toward the whole package too.”

“What else?” 

“Hm?” Cas hummed, glancing at Dean.

“What else makes the whole package?”

Cas sighed and stretched out across the couch, propping his feet up on Dean’s lap. He seemed to think for a moment before he grinned mischievously. 

“An amazing cook, obviously.”

“Shit,” Dean cursed.

“Expert on yoga, of course. Someone who can really bend with me.”

“Damn.”

“Someone whose taste in music isn’t exclusively 40-year-old rock music.”

“I feel like I’m being attacked right now.”

“And,” Cas continued, wiggling his toes, “someone who will give me foot rubs because they love me so much.”

“Well,” Dean sighed, pointedly ignoring Cas’s nudging feet, “I have failed on all accounts. No wonder I’m still single.”

“Tragic, really,” Cas mocked, kicking at Dean’s hand. “And you were so pretty, too. All dressed up with no place to go.”

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“I dunno. Rub my feet.”

“Fuck no,” Dean snorted. “I dunno where those things have been.”

“They’re feet, ” Cas said, insulted. “They’ve been in shoes and this house.”

“Yeah, but, like, what if you one of your orgie buddies has a foot fetish,” Dean grimaced. “And they rubbed up all over it or somethin’. No thanks.”

Cas blinked then barked a laugh, face scrunched up as he giggled ridiculously. “What exactly do you think we do at those?”

“I really don’t think about it,” Dean answered honestly. “Besides, feet are gross in general. I don’t even like mine. Why do you think I wear socks all the time?”

Cas suddenly grew very serious and tilted his head. “All parts of the body are beautiful, Dean. Every inch is vital to our existence, crucial to our day to day living, and deserves respect and worship and care.”

“Worship?” Dean asked incredulously. 

Cas shrugged. “I wouldn’t do it every night necessarily, but I could definitely show you a thing or two about loving every inch of someone. You’d be surprised where some of your erogenous zones are.”

Dean swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “That, uh… that what you guys do, then?”

Cas looked at him then, tilting his head. “Thought you didn't want to know.”

“I don't. I mean, I… no, um…” he coughed, frowning down at his lap, “I just… assumed it was… less personal, I guess.”

“It is.”

“I… don't understand.”

Cas sighed, letting his head fall back against the arm of the couch. Dean's hands found themselves on Cas's feet anyway, but he was too preoccupied with Cas's answer to care about his reservations. 

“It's a basic human need, Dean. It's sensation, it's closeness. But it's separated from emotion. We all know what each other need physically, because we all need essentially the same thing.” He paused, raising his head to look down at Dean. “I know it doesn't make sense to you. But we're able to give each other what we need and walk away after feeling better about ourselves without expectations of one another. I couldn't really be close to any of them. Not really.”

“I just feel like…” Dean chewed his lip, “that's as close as you get to another person, you know?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, looking very sincere now. “No, it's not. It can be, but in my case… not so much.” He huffed a laugh. “Not sure it can ever be like that for me.” He sighed heavily. “But sometimes you just… really need someone to see you, to appreciate your body for what it is. To have someone give attention to a part of your body that you're perhaps uncomfortable with… for them to show you that it's beautiful, important, cherished… it's about as close to the feeling you're describing as I think I can get.”

Dean looked down at his hands as they kneaded Cas's feet, and suddenly he could sort of understand it. “But what about… emotionally?”

Cas snorted. “I have no interest in getting to know any of them on an emotional level.”

It was a strange sense of relief that Dean felt after hearing that. It was completely selfish to be happy about the fact that his friend apparently wasn’t interested in finding someone to settle down with, but at least that meant Dean never had to endure watching his friend fall in love with someone. And, in a way, it made him special since he was the only one whom Cas did know on an emotional level, even if it wasn’t the level Dean wanted. 

Dean did sort of envy Cas, though. He’d never let himself...explore like that. Partly because unlike Cas he required some sort of emotional attachment to someone when it came to sex. Not love necessarily, but something . Because of that and his never openly admitted insecurities, he was never able to really dig into his sexuality and find out what makes him tick. Part of him craved to let Cas show him, help him find every button and explore without judgement. 

Too risky, though. Dean undoubtedly would mistake the closeness and intimacy of sex with love, and his heart would break once Cas finally tired of him. 

“Where are you?” Cas’s voice startled him and Dean jumped, blinking owlishly as he turned his head.

“What?” he asked stupidly.

Cas snorted and raised a brow. “Was asking where you were, since it clearly wasn’t here. Get lost inside that pretty head of yours?”

Dean swallowed and rubbed his eyes, clearing his throat. “Ah, yeah. Guess so. Sorry. Just, uh...weird day.”

“Mm, I think you just need to relax. Like, really relax.”

“I don’t wanna get high.”

Cas huffed and rolled his eyes as he sat up, crossing his legs and facing Dean. “Not what I meant. I can get my crystals out. Put you on my pillow. Get some incense goin’. Decompress and detox all that negativity you got comin’ out your pores. Ohh, I even got some new oils we can try.”

“You’re such a fucking hippie.”

“I’m your fucking hippie,” Cas grinned, eyes crinkling in the corners. “C’mon, let me work my magic.”

Dean sighed and thought, what the hell. If nothing else it would be an hour of pampering. Plus, Cas really could work some wonders. Dean could recall a time when he had endured days of the most intense migraine of his entire life. It had gotten so bad that he’d been physically ill, unable to keep food down and in so much pain he’d been close to tears. Cas finally forced Dean to undergo one of his “crystal healing” rituals and bam , the migraine was gone and Cas was a smug bastard for weeks.

“Fine,” he grunted, trying not to sound too excited about being the center of Cas’s attention. “But I’m not gettin’ naked.”

“But-”

“ Boxers . That’s all you get.”

Cas grumbled and threw his hands up in defeat. He climbed off the couch and disappeared into his room, Dean following closely behind. Cas knelt down and pulled a huge ass pillow out from under his bed, the thing big enough for a full-grown man to stretch out on and still have some room to spare. He placed it in the middle of the room and gestured at it before going about getting everything ready. 

Dean undressed down to his boxers and stretched out across the pillow, watching Cas quickly light at least a dozen candles and incense. The lights went off, giving the room an ethereal glow, and Cas sat down beside Dean with a bag of crystals. Dean didn’t really understand the whole crystal thing, but Cas seemed to be an expert at it. He pulled out an array of different stones and crystals, looking at them all carefully and muttering to himself. Dean watched patiently, a little fascinated by the look of utter concentration on Cas’s face.

Finally, Cas selected his first one. An opaque blue crystal, placing it carefully on Dean’s brow.

“Kyanite,” Cas explained. “To cut away the mental, emotional, and spiritual attitudes that hold you captive.”

Next came a rose pink looking stone with black marks, which Cas placed directly over Dean’s heart. 

“Rhodonite,” Cas said. “For rough times of uncertainty and transformation. Particularly working against lack of self-confidence.”

Dean raised a brow, but didn’t say anything. Last came a crystal that looked milky yellow and Cas placed it right on the solar plexus.

“Citrine,” Cas smiled. “Freedom from emotional hang-ups and inhibitions.”

“Okay, now-”

“Shhhh.” Cas frowned at him, then laid his hands together over Dean's stomach, just below the citrine crystal. “Now think of your thoughts in a sieve, keeping the good thoughts contained while the negative thoughts sift through and seep out through your pores. Take long, deep breaths, in through your nose, out through your mouth.”

They'd done this enough times that Dean knew the drill, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it slowly through his mouth. He tried to focus on positive thoughts, on ridding himself of negative ones, but all he could think about was Cas's hands on his stomach, the warmth radiating from them.

He missed his touch immediately when Cas pulled his hands away, but he could still feel the man beside him, could feel his eyes on him. The crystals suddenly felt heavy and Dean tried to focus on that instead of everything else, imagining all his negativity regarding Cas and their frustrating lack of relationship draining into them. He let himself imagine, briefly, that his feelings for Cas were reciprocated, that when the session was over Cas would remove the crystals and help Dean to his feet the way he always did, but this time he'd kiss him softly and they'd curl back up on the couch together. That Cas would hum one of his weird songs while carding his fingers through Dean's hair, that they'd eventually move to Dean's bed together and get lost in one another. 

He opened his eyes then, finding Cas watching him with a calm expression. 

“Breathe,” he said softly, giving Dean a small nod. A slow smile spread across his face when Dean deliberately breathed in deeply through his nose and maintained eye contact as he let it out through his mouth.

Cas shifted, moving to sit above Dean’s head, and pressed his thumbs to either side of the kyanite, applying pressure as he moved them outward. He repeated the motion, over and over, closing his eyes and breathing in time with Dean.

Cas pulled his hands away briefly and Dean could smell the oil, then the fingers were back, this time on either side of his temple and rubbing the oil into his skin with small circles. Dean closed his eyes again,  beginning to feel droopy as his mind finally quieted and his muscles went lax. 

“There we go,” Cas murmured quietly. “So damn stubborn.” 

Dean didn’t have a retort, far too relaxed to care. Cas’s fingers were magic and worked to dissipate the headache Dean hadn’t even realized he’d had. The smell of oil, incense, and the unique scent that was Cas invaded his senses and made his head feel fuzzy. He almost wondered if Cas had somehow slip some pot in there somewhere, but then decided he didn’t care about that either. 

Dean became dimly aware of humming, or chanting; a low monotone of Cas’s gravelly voice filling his ears pleasantly. Cas wasn’t a singer- one of the few talents he didn’t possess- but Dean had always found that deep voice comforting. The humming continued for a long while, Cas’s fingers massaging different areas of Dean’s head. 

At some point, Dean had drifted off to a light sleep and when he woke, Cas was staring down at him with a small smile. Those insanely blue eyes were so close that Dean could see the little details in them, the streaks of silver and darker blues that made those beautiful orbs look like a stormy sky.

“Hi,” Cas whispered, his smile soft.

“Hey,” Dean whispered back, his voice a little rough.

“How do you feel?” Cas asked, his hands still on either side of Dean’s face.

“B-better,” Dean cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Mm, good…” Cas hummed, finally plucking the crystals off Dean and placing them carefully in his bag. “Turn over for me. On your stomach.”

Dean, for some reason, didn’t question this demand and turned over. His arms pillowed his head and blinked lazily as Cas rubbed his hands over with more oil. Dean realized very slowly that Cas was going to massage him and before he could think about the possible repercussions of this, Cas was already straddling his thighs.

“Why are you tensing up? All my hard work for nothing.”

Dean blushed and was immediately thankful Cas couldn’t see it. He pressed his forehead to his arm and closed his eyes, very intentionally working to relax his muscles. He heard Cas rubbing his hands together, probably trying to warm the oil, then those hands were on his lower back and sliding upward, thumbs pressing along the ridges of his shoulder blades. They circled around and slid down, then repeated the motion. 

Dean let out an involuntary moan when Cas found a knot in his erector spinae - a term he only knew because Cas drilled them into his head over his many years of doing this- and Cas chuckled quietly, causing Dean’s blush to return with a vengeance. 

Cas moved from knot to knot wordlessly, working each one out before moving to the next, and he added some more oil to his hands to rub over Dean’s back when he was done. This oil smelled like lavender with a small hint of patchouli and Dean felt himself begin to drift off again under Cas’s skilled hands.

He’d only just barely begun to doze when he felt Cas gently shaking him awake, and he turned onto his side to find the man laying down beside him, facing him, expression neutral. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re clingy?” Dean murmured, laying an arm under his head.

“They’re usually nice enough not to mention it,” Cas threw back, giving him a sly smile. 

Dean chuckled softly and scrubbed at his hair as he ducked his head, feeling oddly shy with Cas so close. He was acutely aware of their state of undress and the fact that he was so relaxed that the urge to kiss Cas was stronger than ever. How easy would it be to just lean forward the few inches separating them? Too easy. 

“Uh, thank you,” Dean murmured, peeking out from under his arm. Cas was still watching him with the same expression.

“Anything for you, Dean,” Cas said softly. 

Dean blushed and hid his face again. The room was quiet, warm, dark. Cozy and intimate, and the need for Cas to be closer was almost overwhelming. Cas was frustratingly quiet, simply watching Dean sort through the mess in his head. 

“How are you feeling?” Cas asked again, after several minutes.

“Haven’t felt this good since…” Dean trailed off. Since that morning, to be honest, but he couldn’t say that to Cas. “Ah. Been awhile. Thanks, buddy.”

“Mmm.” Cas nodded once and rolled to his back, and that’s when Dean noticed that his cock was halfway hard, although Cas seemed to be ignoring it. Dean would later blame what he did next on his overly relaxed state and fuzzy head, but he reached out without a second thought and cupped Cas through his boxers.

Cas’s hand immediately shot out and grabbed Dean’s wrist, and he whipped his head to the side, intense gaze landing on Dean’s. He narrowed his eyes, his lips slightly parted, expression frustratingly giving nothing away.

“What are you doing?” he demanded softly, grip tightening around Dean’s wrist.

Dean avoided his gaze, slowly pulling his hand from Cas’s grasp. “S-sorry, I just...after this morning, I thought-”

“I told you to forget about it,” Cas said, voice devoid of emotion. He sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face and up through his hair.

“Right. Yeah, course,” Dean said dumbly, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Cas said, looking over and giving him a small smile. “You just...don’t have to do that. Or...whatever. I…” he frowned, chewing his lip, “I didn’t have expectations after this morning, Dean. You don’t have to feel guilty about it or anything.”

Dean didn’t really know what the fuck to say to that, so he just stared unseeingly at a random spot on the wall across the room, even when Cas stood and started picking up all his oils and crystals. He sat them on his dresser and turned to his bed, sorting through the pile of clothes and pulling a few articles out.

“What are you doing?”

Cas glanced back at him briefly before returning to his task. “I’m gonna head over to Abi’s for a bit. But I’ll be back tonight.” He turned back with his hands full of the clothes Dean assumed he’d be wearing, and knelt down long enough to give him a peck on the forehead. “Promise.”

It offered little comfort to Dean and he watched with resignation as Cas dressed. He knew exactly what “going to Abi’s” meant and it was just as bad as when he was forced to let Cas go to his orgies.  He’d come home smelling like weed and sex, and Dean wasn’t entirely sure he could deal with it this time. 

Jesus, Cas really didn’t want him at all. Would go to lengths to avoid him after Dean stupidly put himself out there. Or maybe he could sense Dean’s emotional attachment and was doing what he always did when he encountered emotions: run the other way. 

Dean slowly got dressed, pulling on his shirt just as Cas was walking out the door. Dean stood in Cas’s room for a moment then pushed the pillow back under the bed. Snuffed out the candles. Closed the door behind him. 

He felt a lump in his throat that he refused to acknowledge and his chest was tight, but Dean went about the evening as normal as he could manage. He cleaned and blasted music, and it got later and later, and when it was clear Cas wouldn’t be back in time to make pizza Dean made a sandwich for his dinner.  

He got ready for bed and did something he’d never done before. Dean locked his bedroom door and pretended to not hear Cas stumble home a couple of hours later. He wouldn’t take care of him this time and a part of him felt an overwhelming guilt over that. But he squeezed his eyes shut and stayed put, letting a few tears fall before he finally drifted off.

Chapter Text

He’d almost forgotten about what transpired the evening before when he woke, the image of his closed door serving as his reminder. He squeezed his eyes shut again and sighed, wondering how the fuck he was going to get through the awkwardness of the day.

“Blue” was blaring from the other side of the door, and Dean rolled his eyes, already knowing that the stupid song would be stuck in his head for the rest of the day. Even more worrisome was the fact that Cas was on the other side of that door, and Dean was eventually going to have to go out there and face him.

He sighed again and sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He’d slept in his sweatpants and he considered putting on a shirt before he left the room, but he decided it wouldn’t matter, anyway. Cas didn’t want him. It wasn’t like seeing him shirtless would change his mind.

He felt another small pang of guilt as he unlocked his door, but he took a deep breath and pulled it open, padding out through the living room and into the kitchen. He stopped on the far side of the counter, with Cas in the heart of the kitchen, his back to him. 

Cas was wearing the damn robe again, attempting to dance (okay, so he was bad at exactly two things) and kneading pizza dough. He hadn’t heard Dean come in over the music, and despite the weirdness between them, Dean saw an opportunity and took it.

He leaned over and grabbed the sprayer from the sink, aiming it at the back of Cas’s head and squeezing. 

The surprisingly forceful spray nailed Cas in the back of the head and he jumped, turning and ducking as he held up a hand.

“What the fuck-”

Dean laughed and sprayed him again, this time in his face, his shielding hand offering little shelter from the onslaught. Cas’s hair was soaked and water dripped down his face by the time Dean dropped the sprayer back in the sink, wide grin plastered on his face.

“That’s what you get for standin’ me up, asshole,” he said cheekily.

Cas huffed a laugh and shook water from his hair, composing himself briefly before wordlessly rounding the counter and taking off after Dean.

Dean chuckled maniacally as he turned on his heel and ran, hopping over the couch and watching as Cas tried to decide which way to get to him, the two of them leaning from one side to the other. Cas finally jumped the couch, narrowly missing Dean’s arm as he rounded the coffee table and made his way back to the kitchen. 

The chase ensued for another several minutes, until Dean was breathless and Cas had made it clear he wasn’t going to give up. He eventually tackled Dean in the air, the two of them flopping over the couch. Dean hit the floor with a hard thud and Cas landed on top of him, further knocking the breath out of him.

“I was tryin’ to apologize,” Cas panted, pausing for a second before lowering his head to rub his wet hair all over Dean’s face. Dean made a disgusted noise and pushed at him, knocking him to the floor beside him, and Cas groaned as he landed on his back with a thud.

“I like my way better,” Dean panted, chuckling as he reached out to tousle Cas’s wet hair. Cas slapped his hand away, laughing breathlessly and closing his eyes. 

“Jackass,” Cas said with no conviction whatsoever. 

“Look at it this way,” Dean shrugged, grinning. “Now you don’t have to take a shower.” He sat up and got to his feet, bending down to help Cas when he whined pathetically. “Lazy,” Dean snorted, pulling him to his feet as well. 

“I was just attacked ,” Cas huffed, holding a hand over his heart. “Show a little compassion, you monster.” 

“You’re a dramatic bitch when you wanna be,” Dean rolled his eyes, ducking away just in time before Cas’s palm connected with his head. “Abuse!”

“Now who’s being dramatic?” Cas walked back into the kitchen, turned down his music, and surveyed the mess with a frown, hands on his hips. “If you got water on my dough I will be very cross.”

“Cross?” Dean slipped into a chair at the table, resting his head on his fist. “Who talks like that?” 

“Shut up,” Cas peered at his dough and nodded in satisfaction. “Looks okay.” 

“See? I was aiming for your big head anyway,” Dean smirked.  

“I have a normal-sized head.” 

“As opposed to…?”

Cas rounded on him and raised a brow. “Do you want pizza or not?” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Cas blinked and- holy shit, yes - actually blushed . Dean grinned in triumph as Cas wordlessly got back to work, and suddenly things felt normal again. They were both ignoring the talk they needed to have, but if Cas was content to act like everything was fine then so was Dean. Anything to keep his friend. 

“So pizza for breakfast?” Dean asked as Cas took it out of the oven a half hour or so later. His mouth was already watering at the smell of bacon and onion and cheese, and he vaguely wondered what else Cas had added to it.

“Yep,” Cas said without explanation while he cut the pizza into eight nearly even pieces. He picked one up and blew on it as he turned and crossed over to Dean, who was still sitting with his arms folded over the counter. He held the slice out after a moment. “Bite.”

Dean did as he was told, eyes fluttering closed with a moan at the explosion of cheesy goodness on his tongue. 

“Sweet mother of fuck, what is that?” 

“I carmelized the onions,” Cas smirked, taking a bite of his own and holding the pizza back up for Dean when he opened his mouth and leaned forward. “What do you think?”

“I think I’d like to make sweet love to this pizza for the rest of my life,” Dean said, perhaps a little too sincerely. 

“Excellent.” Cas plated a few pieces and handed the plate to Dean, hopping up on the counter as he finished the rest of the piece they’d been sharing. “Anyway, I honestly am sorry about last night. I was supposed to have a ride home earlier, but it fell through. Abi ended up having to bring me, which she was not happy about.”

“Not like we live that far out,” Dean mumbled, stuffing his mouth with the next delicious bite.

“Thirty minutes each way,” Cas countered, raising a brow.

Dean stopped chewing, trying to think of an argument, but Cas was right. He rolled his eyes and gave a messy shrug, answering with his mouth full. “Whatever.”

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I wanted to be here.”

Dean snorted and chewed, swallowing hard and coughing once. “And yet you left.”

Cas gave him a sad smile, then looked down at his legs swinging from the countertop. “Yeah. Um. I, uh...okay, here it is.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, glancing up at Dean nervously. Cas didn’t get nervous.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t...regret yesterday morning, okay? At all. But...you’re my best friend, the only friend I have, and I…” he cleared his throat, shifting anxiously on the countertop. “What happened after the massage yesterday-”

“I fucked up, Cas. Wasn’t on you.” Dean said it before he could stop himself, blushing slightly when Cas raised a brow at him incredulously.

“What? No. No, Dean. It’s fine, it’s...not a big deal. But I knew you were just, you know, tryin’ to repay the favor, and...when I did what I did, I didn’t expect anything in return. Didn’t want you to feel obligated or weird about any of it, and…” he frowned down at his hands, pushing his thumb into his palm. “When you... touched me, it, um...well, you know how... healthy my sexual appetite is, and I knew I couldn’t let it happen, and...if I’d stayed here I dunno what I would’ve done. You mean...so much to me, and you already do so much for me...I don’t need you do feel like you need to reciprocate sexually all of a sudden because I gave you one measly blowjob.”

Dean wanted to argue that the blowjob was by no means “measly” and was easily the best he’d ever had, but he wasn’t sure this was the best conversation for that.

“So you...decided the best way to handle that situation is leaving me with barely a word to go fuck Abbadon and all your other friends?”

“What?” Cas’s head snapped up, and he narrowed his eyes. “Dean, that’s...that’s not what I went there for. Not last night, anyway.”

“You...you didn’t?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, huffing a laugh. “I mean, I left in a hurry because of...um. You know,” he gestured to Dean without looking at him. “But I had to go make a sale. Megan needed a few of my Adderalls, and-”

Dean swiped a hand over his mouth. “Jesus.”

Cas looked up at him sincerely, if not a little sad. “You really think I’m that much of an asshole?”

“No, I just-“ Dean huffed and scrubbed at his eyes. “I dunno, Cas. Sometimes I just don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours. It’s hard to keep up sometimes, you know?” 

Cas looked down and tugged at the edge of his robe. “I know. I’m so-“ 

“This whole thing is your fault anyway,” Dean bit into his pizza, raising a brow. 

Cas frowned. “Wha-“

“The crystal thing,” Dean huffed, flapping his hand. “You lowered my inhibitions or whatever. I was high on rock magic.” 

Cas blinked then laughed, nose and eyes scrunching up adorably. “You’re gonna blame my crystals for groping me?” he asked between chuckles. 

“Yep,” Dean nodded, chewing a large mouthful. 

Cas nodded and smiled, shaking his head. “Fair enough,” he shrugged, finally digging into his abnormal breakfast. “So, we’re...okay then?”

Dean huffed and rolled his eyes. “ Yes , Cas. We’re fine. Take a lot more than rejecting a hand job from me to get me upset.” 

“So rejecting a blowjob then…?”

“You might have a temper tantrum on your hands.”

“Duly noted.” 

----

Dean had let himself relax and he knew better. Knew better than to just walk into the house like everything would be fine, normal, without bracing himself for what he might find. 

Things had settled between him and Cas for the most part. There was still some awkwardness here and there, and Dean was still hopelessly in love with the guy, but they got back to routine and the friendship was intact. Cas had been...tame since the crystal fiasco, perhaps in an attempt to get back in Dean’s good graces even though Dean had already explained he wasn’t upset. 

Not for the reasons Cas thought, at any rate. 

So, Dean had stupidly let his guard down and was now confronted with the creepiest fucking doll since Annabelle and nearly screamed like a little girl as he walked through the door. 

“CAS!” he yelled, eyeing the thing warily. It was just staring at him . “What the fuck is this thing?!” 

“Wha- oh.” Cas grinned as he rounded the corner. He plucked the doll from where it sat on the back of the couch- or rather, where Cas intentionally sat the damn thing to stare down Dean as soon as he walked in the door and nearly cause him a heart attack- and looked down at it in his hands. “Yeah, got this lil’ baby off E-bay. Only twenty dollars.”

“Imagine that.”

Cas held the doll up toward him, its creepy dead eyes staring through him. It had a plush body and those sort of plasticy- rubbery limbs, with thin eyebrows and lips in the shape of an “O” that were much too shapely to be a baby’s, and the red-blonde hair was matted and missing patches throughout. Dean cringed and shied away, holding out a hand.

“Dude-”

“What, you don’t like her? Cas looked at the doll again, chuckling.

Dean clenched his jaw and pointed a finger at it. “That thing’s not staying in my house.”

“ Our house-”

“Whatever! It’s not stayin’ here!”

Cas rolled his eyes and tossed the doll on the couch. “Relax. She’ll be in my room.”

Dean toed off his shoes and made a disapproving noise as he pointed at the couch. “Hey! Get it out of here. I don’t wanna look at it.”

Cas laughed and lit up a cigarette, then grabbed the doll and disappeared into his room before Dean could argue with him about smoking in the house. Dean settled onto the couch, giving one last skeptical look around the room, half expecting Cas to have other creepy dolls sitting around to scare the shit out of him. There weren’t many things that Dean was really, truly afraid of, but dolls just about topped the list.

“What’d you have in mind for tonight?” Cas asked when he came back minutes later, sans cigarette. He plopped down on the floor in front of the couch, where he would often sit, between Dean’s legs, to rolls his joints. Dean shrugged despite Cas not being able to see him.

“Dunno. Netflix and chill.”

Cas snorted. “It somehow sounds like exactly what it is when you say it in your long-suffering tired mechanic voice.”

“Well, I am tired.”

“Mkay,” Cas said, morphed with a breathy laugh. “Well, then. Do I have a treat for you.”

“Mm?”

Cas tilted his head to the side and shielded the end of his joint with one hand while he lit it with the other. He inhaled audibly and gently blew the flame at the end out, then raised it to his lips again for another quick drag before handing it to Dean.

Dean huffed but took it, taking a hit and watching Cas critically as the man turned to face him and slowly started removing a sock. He pulled his foot back slightly, causing Cas to look up at him questioningly. 

“What are you doing?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Relax, Dean. After our talk yesterday, I wanted to kind of...clue you in on what I mean about having a part of you worshipped. Especially if it’s a part of you that you dislike.”

Dean frowned and wrinkled his nose. “So you’re goin’ to touch my feet.”

“Yes, quite extensively. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes!”

“Are you unable to handle it?”

Cas almost asked it as a challenge, and damn him for that, because Dean never passed on a challenge.  

“...no.”

“Good.”

Dean watched with trepidation as Cas removed the sock completely. It wasn’t like he had ugly feet, or that they stank or whatever. They just weren’t a body part Dean found particularly alluring or warranted any kind of special attention. It was a general dislike and not like, say, the pooch on his stomach that he absolutely loathed and did think was ugly. Hence why he normally opted to wear shirts, even at home.

“Relax,” Cas said, pointing at the joint. “Smoke. Enjoy it.”

Dean took another hit and tried not to think about the odd sensation of Cas’s fingers running up the arch of his foot. It’d feel good if he weren’t so weirded out by it. Dean closed his eyes, inhaled another drag, and tilted his head back as he blew out the smoke. The first few minutes seemed to just be Cas getting to know his foot, running his fingers up and down the curves and occasionally pressing his thumb into them.

“You have cute toes,” Cas commented.

“Shaddup.”

Cas chuckled and pointedly wiggled the pinky toe. Dean rolled his eyes, but let Cas have his fun. His eyelids slid shut as Cas started to work in earnest now, starting at his toes and very slowly working down. He pressed into the arch firmly and Dean’s gasp turned into a full-blown moan, the absurdity of how good that felt rolling off quickly because who the fuck cared , that shit was amazing.

“Told ya,” Cas smirked, too damn smug for Dean’s liking.

“You really need to learn some humility,” Dean grumbled then moaned again as Cas massaged his arch.

“That sounds tedious and completely beneath me.”

Dean chuckled and wiggled his toes, finally looking down and watching those amazing fingers work. “Where do you learn this shit?”

“Mmm,” Cas shrugged and moved onto the other foot. “Just...around? I dunno. I pick things up that I find interesting. Experiment. Practice makes perfect, and all that.”

“You must be a god at sex then.”

Cas only smiled, small and maybe even a little shy, shrugging again. “I know a thing or two, but you can never be perfect at something like that. Not in my opinion, anyway.”

“How come?”

“Because human beings are too diverse,” Cas chewed his lip thoughtfully. “What one may like, another may hate. The body has its basic erogenous zones, but they vary in intensity and some might have different spots all together. One person likes it slow, another likes it fast. I could never use one style, or rely on the same ‘moves’, because each person has unique…” he tilted his head, “needs. Desires. You can’t be perfect for everyone.”

“You could be perfect for one,” Dean murmured after a pause.

“...Yes, I suppose,” Cas nodded. “If you had the time and commitment to dedicate in exploring that one, sure. But even then it would always be changing, even if just a little, over time. People grow, change. Needs will change. Desires you might not have known you had come to light.”

“So then you just need to adapt. Change with them.”

Cas smiled. “Sure.”

“Isn’t that the point of committing to someone, though?” Dean asked sincerely. “I mean, you decide you want to be with someone because at the end of the day, you can’t imagine, you know...even doing the most menial of tasks without them. Or you...you don’t want to learn about anyone else the way you do them, ‘cause you would rather know everything there is to know about that one person.”

Cas just stared at him.

Dean huffed and waved a hand. “I’m not makin’ sense.”

“No, I understand.”

Dean clicked his tongue. “Course you do.”

Cas smiled again and looked down, watching his own hands move over Dean’s feet. “Anyway, I think it’s a lovely sentiment. People out there supposedly have lifelong happy relationships.”

“Your cynicism is astounding.”

“Well,” Cas said with a  smirk, looking up at Dean, “I didn’t exactly grow up being read fairy tales at bedtime.”

Not that Cas knew whether or not Dean actually had fairy tales read to him at bedtime, but Dean knew it was meant to be metaphorical, anyway. Dean had the kind of family that someone like Cas would surely consider a bit of a fairy tale upbringing.

“Anyway,” Cas said a moment later, giving Dean a bit of a forced smile and squeezing his feet one last time. “All done. How do they feel?”

Dean wiggled his toes. “Really good, actually.”

“You’re welcome.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”

Cas pulled himself up from the floor and plopped down onto the couch, taking the rest of the joint that Dean offered him. He laid out on his back and stared up at the ceiling as he took the first drag.

“I harvested today.”

“Yeah? So pretty productive day for you, huh?”

Cas kicked weakly at him. “As a matter of fact, yes. I spent hours out there trimming those plants.”

“Please tell me you’re drying them in the shed and not in my house.”

“ Our house!”

“It goes without saying!” Dean shot back, grinning.

“ Yes ,” Cas sighed, waving his free hand around. “I’ll be drying them in the shed. I swear, you’re such a parent sometimes.”

“Someone’s gotta be the adult here,” Dean gestured at Cas. “And we both know it ain’t you.”

“I refuse to grow up.”

“My point exactly, Peter Pan.”

“Ohhh, we should watch Captain Hook.” Cas jumped up from the couch and knelt in front of the tv stand to dig through their extensive collection of movies. 

“I live with a child,” Dean said dryly.

“And I live with an old man,” Cas threw back. “Shit happens. We adapt and overcome.”

Dean chuckled and stretched an arm over the back of the couch, crossing a heel over his knee. “I put in time off for our big trip.”

“And here I thought you’d forgotten,” Cas said in a surprised tone, popping the Captain Hook disk into the player.

“Nah, kinda ready to take some time,” Dean sighed. “As much as I love working at the garage, I’m getting a little…”

“Burnt out?” Cas supplied, returning to his spot on the floor in between Dean’s legs.

“Yeah.”

“How much time you taking?”

“A week,” Dean shrugged, grabbing the remote and pressing ‘play’ when the menu popped up. “Plenty of time to get up there, do our thing, and get back.”

“Not very restful for you,” Cas said, tilting his head back to look up at Dean. “You’re gonna be driving basically the whole time.”

“I don’t mind,” Dean yawned and scratched at his cheek. “I like road trips. Plus, with the way I drive, it won’t take two days.”

“I’d rather not die in a fiery car accident.”

“Shut up,” Dean nudged him with his leg. “I’m a pro. I’ll get you there.”

“My hero,” Cas deadpanned.

“Damn right,” Dean nodded firmly. “Not too many would drive your ass all the way to Canada to carve on a tree.”

“I know,” Cas said sincerely, turning his head to kiss Dean’s knee. “You’re so good to me. It makes things like missing a kidney worth it.”

Dean snorted, a hand finding its way involuntarily into Cas’s messy hair.

After the movie, Cas got up and announced that he was going to go cleanse the crystals he’d used on Dean the night before and disappeared into his room. Dean didn’t know how “clean” crystals possibly got by smudging them and running them under hot water, but Cas was the expert, not him.

“What’s for dinner?” Dean called from the kitchen as he opened the fridge. Before Cas could answer, he saw the container of lasagna that definitely hadn’t been there this morning, and he sat it on the counter and rustled through the cabinets for a plate.

“Oh good, you found it,” Cas said as he carried his large abalone shell full of crystals into the kitchen and began running the hot water in the sink. Dean hummed and gave him a quick smile as he worked on heating the lasagna, waiting impatiently in front of the microwave. 

“Hey, so you’ll be good to leave this weekend, right?”

Cas looked over his shoulder at him and raised a brow. “This weekend? I had no idea you were that keen on getting out of town.”

Dean shrugged. “Things are slow right now at the garage. Figured now was as gooda time as any.”

“Ah.” Cas nodded and went back to his crystals. “Well, yes, this weekend is fine. Not like I have anything else to do but wait on my plants to dry, anyway.”

“Right. And you know the old saying… ‘watched plants never dry’, or somethin’ like that.”

Cas gave him a sincere stare and nod. “You’re so wise.”

Dean chuckled when he pulled his plate from the microwave and he hopped up on the counter, taking the fork Cas was already handing him and digging into the lasagna. 

“What time are you dragging me out of bed?” Cas asked, hunched over the sink. 

“Early start,” Dean said between chews. “Hit the road around 4:30 or so.” 

Cas whined and seemed to crumble, collapsing his upper body on the counter top with a groan. “God, I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.” 

“Whatever,” Dean stretched his leg out to nudge Cas with his foot. “You’ll be asleep within five minutes of getting in the car.”  

“Yes, but those five minutes will be excruciating.”

“Dramatic bitch.” 

Cas stuck his tongue out and finished up with his crystals. They were set out to dry, then Cas placed himself between Dean’s legs and opened his mouth. 

Dean huffed and forked some lasagna, feeding it to Cas. “When you gonna stop eating off my plate?” He grumbled half-heartedly.  

“When you start cooking.”

“Touché.”

“This is so good,” Cas said as he chewed. “I’m so good.” 

“And humble.” 

“Nothing wrong with having a little pride,” Cas shrugged, swallowing. 

“Pretty sure it’s one of the seven deadly sins.” 

“Your face is a sin.”

Dean barked a laugh. “What?”

“I dunno. Gimme another bite.” 

Dean obliged, still chuckling. “Weirdo.” 

----

Dean tried not to be too disappointed in the couple of nights that week that Cas opted to sleep in his own bedroom, but he came to the conclusion that it was probably for the best, however much he disliked it. And he’d never give Cas the satisfaction of telling him how much he actually enjoyed him sleeping in his bed, despite his snoring and the fact that he perpetually made Dean the little spoon. And he definitely wouldn’t admit to him that he enjoyed being the little spoon.

Cas blessedly spent every night at their house, though, instead of disappearing to Abi’s or Meg’s, and Dean thanked whoever was responsible for that small miracle.

The creepy doll- whom Cas ironically named Swanhilda, a name he’d heard during a dramatic retelling of the Belle Gunness murders on his favorite podcast, My Favorite Murder - was strategically placed throughout the house during that week, effectively scaring the piss out of Dean every time he opened a cabinet or went to take clothes out of the dryer. He’d tried to throw her away once, but Cas found her, and when Dean got home from the garage that day she was propped up on his pillow in his room, staring at him. Cas thought it was the funniest fucking thing in the world every time, and he’d wordlessly come get her, no doubt already planning her next hiding spot.

When Dean’s alarm went off at 4 a.m., Cas didn’t budge. Not that Dean expected him to. Cas was still up packing for the two of them when Dean went to bed around 11 the night before, and there was no telling what time he’d actually come to bed. Dean sat up in bed and sniffed, scrubbing a hand over his face and looking over at Cas’s sleeping form. He was facing Dean, his lips slightly parted, hair mussed all over his head, an arm propping his pillow under his head and one leg bent, probably from where he fell asleep cuddling Dean from behind. 

Dean chewed his lip, wanting desperately to reach out and touch him, but also not wanting to disturb him. He settled for brushing some hair away that had flopped over his forehead, and he held his breath when Cas shifted and let out a small contented moan.

Dean found himself smiling like an idiot as he slipped out of bed, immediately pulling on a pair of jeans, a green henley, and a pair of socks. He hoisted his suitcase up onto the bed, careful not to let it jostle Cas too much, and unzipped it to check the contents-

And found a set of dead eyes staring up at him.

He squawked and jumped back, holding a hand over his chest as his heart felt like it was about to hammer its way out. Cas only barely moved, flopping onto his back, eyes still closed. Dean glared at him, letting out a frustrated growl as he pounced directly on top of him.

“Ooof!” 

“Fucking asshole!” Dean bitched, forcing his hands under Cas’s arms and violently tickling. “I swear to god, Cas, if you hadn’t saved my life I’d kill you!”

Cas squirmed and cackled maniacally, though Dean couldn’t be sure if it was because of his prank or the fact that he was being tickled. He was stuck now, though, under Dean’s weight and tangled in the comforter, so all he could do was thrash wildly and hope to throw him off.

“You weren’t...supposed to see it...til- ahaeheheheh! Stop! Stop!”

“Never!”

Cas planted his feet and thrust upward and Dean lost his grip, falling to the side. Cas wrestled his way out of the covers and landed on top of him, straddling his waist and pinning his wrists to the bed as he struggled to catch his breath. 

“Swanhilda has a mind of her own, Dean,” Cas said, as calmly as he could with a straight face. “I can’t control her. She just really likes you.”

“Don’t you say that kind of shit,” Dean growled, squirming and bucking to try to throw Cas off. Cas had a thigh grip like steel, though, and merely tightened them around Dean’s waist to keep his balance. 

“It’s true,” Cas smirked devilishly. “She talks about you allllll the time.” 

“I will leave your ass here, I swear to God.” 

“Ohhh, party,” Cas wiggled his hips with a grin. “I can smoke and walk around with my dick out all day.”  

Dean scoffed and tried to ignore the weight pressing onto his crotch. “You do that anyway.” 

“Yes, but I wouldn’t have to listen to you bitch about it.”  

“Why the hell can’t I throw you off?!” Dean huffed in exasperation, once again thrusting up to no avail. 

“You’re not the first man I’ve ridden, sweetheart,” Cas said lowly with a wink. “Or the most enthusiastic.” He hummed and tilted his head. “Definitely the most attractive, though. Anyway, I know how to stay on a wild stallion.” 

“Jesus,” Dean blushed heavily and squirmed again, growling in annoyance. “I ain’t your stallion . Either gimme a lap dance or get off.”

“Hm, tempting,” Cas hummed. “But I know for a fact you’re broke and I don’t work it for free, baby.” 

“You can’t dance worth shit,” Dean snorted, glaring up at him. “We both know I’m the one with hips that don’t lie.” 

“Fair point.” Cas flopped onto his back beside Dean and looked mischievously over at him, folding his hands over his stomach. “Go on, then.”

“Unfortunately for you, I need to conserve my energy for the 10 plus hour drive I have today,” Dean teased, and Cas groaned and childishly threw his head back. 

“I’ll go make coffee,” Dean promised, sliding out of bed and leaning back over to press a kiss to the top of Cas’s head and ruffle his hair. “Get dressed.”

Dean stumbled out of his room and through the living room, and he put some soft rock on Cas’s speaker, swaying to “Beast of Burden” as he made a pot of coffee. The clock read 4:23 a.m., which meant they would be closer to 5 before they actually got on the road, which was really the time Dean was aiming for all along. Cas was habitually late and so Dean had gotten in the habit of telling him he wanted to leave or they needed to be somewhere at least a half hour earlier than the actual time. It was the only way to ensure Cas was on time anywhere.

“What’s our sleeping arrangement?” Cas asked, his voice so close it made Dean jump a little. He turned to see Cas standing a few feet away, the silk flowery robe barely wrapped around him, hair sticking up on one side.

“I don’t have anything booked yet, but I just assumed we’d do the whole roadside motel thing like usual. One room, double beds.” Dean shrugged.

“So I shouldn’t pack my dildo, then?”

Dean pressed his lips together and tilted his head, and Cas sighed and nodded.

“Mkay. One sexually repressed, pent up Castiel in your presence for an entire week. May god have mercy on your soul.” Cas turned and walked back toward the bedroom without another word.

Dean shook his head. The guy didn’t even know what sexually repressed felt like. Dean was more worried about himself than Cas. Dean hadn’t had any kind of sex (minus the best blowjob ever) in a year. If anyone was pent up, it was definitely him.  

Coffee made, Dean shuffled back to his room. He wordlessly handed Cas his mug when the guy stumbled inside in search of it. 

“You packed?” Dean asked as he plopped onto his bed to put on his shoes. 

“Mmm,” Cas hummed, face buried in his mug. 

Dean shook his head, knowing that was all he was going to get. He stood and started hauling their bags to the car, dropping each one in the trunk. Once they were loaded up, Dean poured each of them coffee in a pair of travel mugs. 

“Let’s go sunshine,” Dean said, ushering Cas out to the car. The guy was already half asleep, clutching his coffee to his chest. By the time Dean was halfway down the road, Cas was fast asleep, head back against the headrest, mouth open, his snores were the only sound in the car. Dean chuckled and put the music on the low to let him sleep, knowing Cas wouldn’t be waking until the sun was well into the sky. 

----

“Where am I? I need to pee,” was Cas’s greeting as he woke up, sitting up slowly, his hair a wild mess. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean smiled over at him. “You’re in the car. I’m taking you to the vet. Finally getting you fixed.” 

“Leave my balls alone, Winchester.” Then was a pause. “I need to pee.”

“Tough shit. You slept through our first scheduled stop.”

Cas’s eyes went wide then he glared at Dean, shifting in his seat. “That’s not fair! You didn’t wake me.”

Dean ignored him, turning up the music and yelling over it. “Next scheduled stop isn’t for another hour and a half.”

“There’s no way I’m waiting that long.”

Dean glanced at him, raising a brow. “As if you have another choice.”

Cas gave him a challenging look and nodded once, pressing his lips together, and next thing Dean knew, the guy had pulled his dick completely out of his pants, holding the impressive length (for it to be a flaccid cock) in his hand. Dean had a nice sized cock, if he did say so himself, but he wasn’t embarrassed to admit that Cas had him by a little bit. 

“I’ll pee in your car, Dean, so help me…”

“Fine!” Dean threw his hands up, then gestured desperately at the road. “Just please...let me get to a stop somewhere. Jesus.” He pointedly kept himself from looking over at Cas, who was practically radiating smugness. “For the record, if you peed in my car I would actually leave you on the side of the road.”

“Noted.”

“We’re only about…” Dean checked his phone and squinted at the nearest road sign, “twenty minutes or so outside of Madison. Think you can hold it that long?”

“I suppose.” Cas chewed his lip, clasping his hands between his thighs and looking out the window. “Madison, Wisconsin?”

“Mmhm.”

“Huh.”

Dean looked over at him. “What?”

Cas met his gaze. “You don’t remember?” 

Dean shook his head slowly. “No…”

“That trip with your parents?” 

Dean stared ahead at the road blankly, wracking his brain, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember anything particularly memorable about somewhere like Madison, Wisconsin. 

“We stopped at that little diner that looked like it was opened in the 50’s.”

Lightbulb. “Ohhh…”

“Yep. First time of many that Sam thought he walked in on something going on between us. God, I still get embarrassed thinking about it.” Cas chuckled. “He still thinks we’re a secret thing, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” The incident at the diner was honestly innocent. Cas had gotten an eyelash stuck in his eye and gone to the bathroom to get it out, and Dean had eventually gone in to help, and at the moment that Sam pushed the door open, it may have looked like Dean was going in for a kiss. What neither of them knew was that was actually the first time Dean had seriously considered kissing Cas.

“Wanna see if it’s still there?” Dean asked, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “You can pee and we could eat. Gettin’ hungry anyway.”

“As long as there’s a toilet, I’m down.”

It turned the old diner was still there, looking the same as it did when they first came through if a little older, dingier. Cas beelined for the bathroom and Dean ordered two bacon cheeseburgers with shoestring fries, two cokes, and a strawberry shake. 

“Fuck, that’s so much better,” Cas groaned as he slid into the booth across from Dean. 

“That’s what you get for drinking all that coffee,” Dean smirked up from his phone. He’d texted Sam to let him know where they were, leaving out the diner part. He didn’t feel a need to remind Sam of his and Cas’s almost-not-kiss. 

“It is essential for me to function,” Cas said, hungrily digging into his burger and eyeing the strawberry shake. “Where’s mine?” he demanded, pointing at it.

“Strawberry shakes are for drivers only,” Dean smirked, taking a long slurp from it. “This is my bonus for driving your ass across the country.”

“Thought your bonus was my witty company?”

“Oh yeah,” Dean snorted, biting into his burger. “Your snores are particularly stimulating.”

Cas pulled the shake towards him to take a sip. Dean didn’t even try to stop him. Cas had picked up the habit of eating Dean’s food early on in their friendship and it was Dean’s own fault. Back in Elementary, Cas’s lunches had been...well, pathetic. His foster parents would throw in a mushy sandwich, a juicebox, and- if he was lucky- a crumbly bag of chips. Dean started sharing his food since his mom always packed him a bunch anyway. After a while, Mary had caught onto what was happening and- without any comment towards Dean- began packing Dean’s lunches with two of everything. 

“You’re gettin’ your cooties on my straw,” Dean complained, cheek full of fries.

“Well then you should have gotten two straws,” Cas shot back, looking unconcerned. He dipped a fry into the shake and Dean pulled a face, quickly pulling the shake back towards him.

“No, no, no,” he shook his head, watching in disgust as Cas munched on the pink fry. “If you’re gonna abuse it, then you can’t have any. Fries don’t go in shakes. It’s disgusting.”

“It’s delicious .”

Dean’s phone vibrated and he checked a text that came in from Sam, a picture of Finley, with bouncing brown curls and Eileen’s chocolate brown eyes, holding a black cat in her lap and grinning widely. He snorted and showed Cas.

“Finn and Cain say hey.”

Cas grinned, his nose scrunching up. “Cute.” He popped another fry in his mouth. “How are they, by the way? I feel like we barely got any time with them at the party before they had to leave. I miss them.”

“I know they miss you too,” Dean said honestly. “Eileen quite unfortunately doesn’t share my brother’s fascination of serial killers, and he’s a shit cooking partner.”

“Tragic.”

“Dude, they need you,” Dean smirked and took a sip of his drink. “Why don’t you go over with me next time we do dinner? Cancel one of your orgy things.”

“Well, if there’s anything worth canceling one for, it’s that,” Cas said, nodding genuinely as he dipped another fry in Dean’s shake before he could stop him. He popped it in his mouth and looked around while he chewed. “God, this place looks the exact same as it did. I wonder if they still- oh , fuck yes.”

Dean frowned and followed his gaze as Cas got up with his eyes trained on something- that turned out to be a large vintage jukebox. Cas never took his eyes off it as he held a hand out to Dean, who raised a brow.

“‘Scuse me?”

“C’mon, it’s only ten cents.”

Dean scoffed and shook his head, leaning to the side to pull some change out of his pocket and put a couple of dimes in Cas’s waiting hand. 

Cas grinned down at him and ruffled his hair before Dean grumpily batted his hand away. 

“No Elvis!” he called after him, but Cas waved him off.

He smiled down at his burger when the song started up, the smooth doo-wop of The Penguins’ “Earth Angel” filling the otherwise quiet diner. 

“Didn’t think you were the sentimental type,” Dean said gruffly when Cas slid back into the booth.

“I can be,” Cas shrugged, picking up his burger and looking at Dean as he took a bite. He chewed slowly and swallowed, gesturing to Dean. “About things that matter to me. So, you know...you. You and your family.” 

“They’re your family, too.”

“Well-”

“They are,” Dean insisted, swallowing a mouthful of burger and wiping his hands on his jeans. “You think that ‘W’ I carved next to your first initial was just for show? You’re a Winchester.”

Cas, in classic form, tried to shrug off semi-seriousness of Dean’s statement with a smirk and a joke. “Thought one had to marry to get the guy’s last name,” he said, but Dean didn’t miss the way those blue eyes got just a little watery and his fingers twitched on the surface of the table.

“We basically are,” Dean shrugged, stealing his shake back to take a sip and eyeballing the fry crumbs with disdain. “We live together. You cook, I clean. We even sleep in the same bed most nights.”

“We don’t have sex, though.”

Dean raised a brow. “Well, from what I’ve heard, most married couples don’t. So I think we’re good there, too.”

Cas opened his mouth to argue then snapped it shut, looking thoughtfully down at his plate. “Huh…” he finally murmured. “Shit, I’ve been married for years and I didn’t even know it.” 

“Well you’ve been high most of the time, so…”

“I’m much more coherent when I’m high,” Cas waved him off. “I can’t believe you tricked me into marriage.”

Dean huffed, rolling his eyes, and dipped some fries into a glob of ketchup. “I didn’t trick you-”

“And I didn’t even get a ring out of the deal,” Cas continued to whine. “No sex, no diamond. So far I’m gonna rate this whole marriage thing a solid 3/10. You get points for having such a pretty face and a comfy bed.”

“Gee, thanks,” Dean said dryly. He eyed the paper that had come off his straw then snatched it up, folding it quickly and neatly into a paper ring. He gestured to Cas, who grinned and held out his hand, wiggling his fingers. Dean slid the ring onto his finger and nodded in satisfaction.

“How’s that?”

“Well,” Cas sighed, looking down at it. “It’s no diamond, but it will do. I don’t think we could possibly be more white trash, though.”

“Listen, if it’s a diamond you want it’s a diamond you’ll get, baby.” Dean winked as he shoved some fries in his mouth.

“Please. I’m not materialistic. Besides, not sure bling is really my style.”

“Good point.” 

They finished up their lunches, Cas wearing the paper ring for the remainder of the meal. It wasn’t until they were back in the car and a few more hours up the road that it finally ripped, and Cas shoved the trash into his pocket.

The drive was significantly shorter than the train ride they’d taken back in middle school, and Dean opted to drive straight through rather than stop for the night like he’d originally planned. This way, they’d get an entire extra day in Toronto.

They found a little roadside motel and checked in for the week, and Dean was actually pleasantly surprised at how clean it was. It wasn’t the Radisson by any means, but it was definitely one of the nicer roadsides he’d ever stayed in before. Cas immediately dropped his bag and flopped down on one of the beds, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh, yeah, much more comfortable than I remember the beds being last time,” he confirmed, pillowing his arms behind his head. “Doesn’t compete with yours, though. And these are smaller. I may have to sleep in my own bed.”

“What a concept,” Dean muttered, tossing his bag on his own bed. 

“Thank you for bringing me here, Dean,” Cas said, and for a second Dean thought he meant here , to this specific motel. “I didn’t really think much about it until you brought it up, but...I get the feeling changing those initials will be sort of...cathartic. ‘Cause my name, this me, now? I worked for it. Molded it myself. Everything that I am right now, I created, on my own. And with your help, of course.” 

Dean looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. “Dunno about that-”

“I feel like...maybe this will help me move forward. Maybe this is what I need to find, really...my own place in the world.”

Dean had to actively keep himself from saying something cheesy like ‘your place in the world is with me’ by biting the inside of his cheek.

“Anyway,” Cas closed his eyes and looked up at the ceiling, “thank you. You always know what I need even when I don’t. It’s eerie.”

“You’re, uh, you’re welcome,” Dean said awkwardly, sitting down on his bed and was pleased that it wasn’t half bad. Better than sleeping in the car. 

He groaned and fell onto his back, realizing just how tired he was. Driving straight through sounded like a good idea at the time, but now Dean felt like he could sleep for two days and still be tired. Not to mention his back and legs were sore from sitting so long. 

“Get undressed.” 

Dean blinked and lifted his head. “Excuse me?”

Cas chuckled and climbed onto Dean’s bed, poking his side. “You probably have knots all over the place. Take off your clothes so I can massage you. Then you can sleep.” 

“Probably fall asleep before you even finish,” Dean warned, already removing his shirt.  

Cas slowly smirked and Dean blushed, kicking him weakly. 

“Finish the massage,” Dean grumbled. 

“Of course,” Cas said cheekily. Dean wanted to smack him. Or kiss him. 

Dean sighed and pulled his jeans off, turning over into his stomach and taking a moment to stretch, arching his back. He groaned again and closed his eyes, lifting a hand to flap it lazily. 

“G’head.” 

“Wow,” Cas said after a minute. “That was almost pornographic. You ever think about doing your own porn? You’d make a killing.” 

Dean snorted, snuggling his face into the pillow, sleep already pulling at him. “Who would film me?” 

“Me, duh,” Cas scoffed, settling himself on the backs of Dean’s thighs. “I’m not too bad with a camera.” 

“I’m not showing my junk to the world.” 

“Pity,” Cas clicked his tongue. He rubbed oil between his hands and started the massage, and Dean moaned again as he found knot after knot and worked them out meticulously. He fell asleep before Cas finished, blessedly relaxed.

----

Cas was, weirdly, in his own bed when Dean woke. It only took him a few seconds to figure out why, as he fell asleep on top of the covers completely splayed across the bed. Cas typically would’ve just made his own space, so Dean deduced that he must’ve really been out of it to make Cas give up his cuddles, even if it was only for a night.

Dean pulled himself up in bed and stretched- his muscles were still sore, but definitely less tight than they had been yesterday- and he rubbed his eyes as his feet hit the floor. Before he could think twice about it he’d pulled back Cas’s covers and slipped into bed with him. Cas let out a loud snore and automatically wrapped his arms around Dean’s chest, pulling him to his body. He buried his face in Dean’s neck and sighed, and Dean’s heart swelled with the action even knowing that Cas was still asleep and likely had no idea what he was doing.

“Stay,” Cas mumbled quietly, tightening his hold.

“Don’t think you’re givin’ me much of an option, dude,” Dean laughed softly.

Cas just hummed, nuzzling Dean’s neck slightly and rocking his hips against him once. It seemed like he was just trying to get comfortable but all it did was alert Dean to the half-hard situation he had going on, coupled with his complete nudity. Dean felt his cheeks grow hot.

“Cas, hey-”

Cas murmured something else that Dean couldn’t understand, his arms falling to Dean’s waist and pulling him close again. Which only pressed Cas’s cock against him even more and had Dean’s body responding eagerly. Dean swallowed and froze, his heart beating wildly and his dick quickly swelling. Cas, the shit, was still in dreamland, his face pressed into Dean’s neck and his hips rotating again. 

“Cas,” Dean said a little more loudly. 

Cas’s eyes finally fluttered open and he looked up at Dean sleepily. What happened next Dean would always blame how those ridiculous eyes and how open they were at that moment, dark with sleep and arousal, and so vivid that they put the sky to shame. 

Dean lost control of himself for a second and closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Cas’s. They were warm, a little chapped, and the best pair of lips Dean had ever kissed. Maybe Cas thought he was dreaming, or was too sleepy to care, but he responded almost instantly. He parted for Dean and their tongues slid together, and Dean was lost in seconds. He rolled, pressing Cas into the bed, hands in all that wild hair, their bodies aligned. 

It was weird, kissing Cas. But not in the way Dean expected. It was weird how it felt normal for him, like they'd be doing it forever. It was weird how their lips slotted together perfectly, how they found rhythm within one another instantly, how Cas relinquished the control he normally held so carefully in the palm of his hand to Dean in that moment, not insistent on anything. 

Dean slid his hands up Cas's arms and wrapped his fingers around his wrists, pinning them above their heads as he licked unhurriedly into his mouth. Kissing was one of Dean’s favorite things when he was intimate with someone, and it was certainly no exception this time. Sex without kissing felt too impersonal for him, and being detached from it never resulted in a great time. 

And holy fuck could Cas kiss, and holy fucking shit , Dean had just implied that he expected this to lead to sex.

He pulled away panting, picking a spot on the pillow behind Cas and staring, because it was too hard to look in those eyes right now. Those eyes that were unmistakably on him, his bare chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath. Dean raked his teeth over his bottom lip and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I…” he paused for a long time, hoping Cas would jump in and say something, but no words came. He clicked his tongue and huffed a laugh. “Um. G-guess I’d been dreaming, or something.”

“Dreaming,” Cas repeated, his voice neutral.

Dean closed his eyes briefly. It was a lame excuse, he knew, but what else could he fucking say? That Cas’s eyes were just so damn beautiful and his lips so damn perfect that Dean had to kiss him?

“Y-yeah,” he croaked, eyes fluttering open. “I’m sorry. I crawled in next to you and I...maybe I fell back asleep. I’m just...Jesus, I’m so sorry. I-” Dean started to move off Cas, feeling so completely embarrassed, when Cas grabbed his wrist tightly.

“Why do you keep saying that?”

Dean blinked and swallowed. “S-saying what?”

“Sorry,” Cas said, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Dean frowned, confusion momentarily overshadowing his personal mortification. “I just...I probably made you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna fuck us up again, so-”

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” Cas asked, looking genuinely curious.

“You-” Dean paused, licking his lips which were a little swollen. “I mean, I kinda just forced myself on you. It was, um...an accident.”

“An...accident.”

Shit. 

“N-no, that’s not what I meant,” Dean said quickly, shaking his head. “No, I just mean...I’m uh...gonna blame it on the state of half-consciousness.”

Cas frowned and tilted his head, his lips slightly parted. Dean huffed another laugh and pulled his hand from his grasp, rolling to the side and sitting up, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“That was weird, right?” he laughed nervously, too afraid to look back at Cas’s expression. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered quickly again, glancing back at Cas briefly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You seem like you’re having a panic attack or something.”

The laugh that escaped Dean was a little hysterical, but he tamped it down quick. “Nah, I’m good. I’m fine.”

Cas was quiet for a moment before Dean felt the bed shift, and he stole a glance at the man’s naked form as he watched him retreat to the bathroom. He left the door open a crack and the water started up a minute later, and Dean let out a heavy breath.

Fuck. He made that about as awkward as he possibly could.

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced at his phone. They’d gotten in early that morning and had apparently slept most of the day away. It was closer to dinnertime than lunch, and he wondered if Cas was even hungry.

“Uh…”

Dean snapped his head up and blinked at Cas, who was standing naked and wet in the doorway, looking adorably sheepish.

“I...forgot my soap and stuff,” he mumbled. 

Dean stared at him for a moment then snorted, shaking his head as he crawled off the bed. He dug through his bag, pulling out all his shower stuff, then handing it over to Cas with a somewhat smug expression.

“That’s what happens when you pack at the last minute,” Dean said.

Cas frowned at the body wash, hair dripping onto the floor. “This isn’t cucumber melon.”

Dean resisted rolling his eyes. “Yeah, ‘cause I don’t wear your fruity shit.”

Cas pressed his lips together and sighed, resigned to his fate of smelling like a man for once. 

“Fine,” he huffed, turning around. “But you’re taking me to the mall after this.” The door shut and Dean sighed, resigned to spending at least 30 minutes in a crowded Bath and Body Works while Cas smelled every goddamn thing in the place.

----

“Stop looking at me. You’re making it weird.”

Dean blushed and quickly looked up at the ceiling, down at the floor...anywhere but over at Cas, who was staring intently down at a bottle of body wash labeled “Noir”, his brow wrinkled in concentration or confusion...Dean wasn’t sure which. 

“I don’t understand how a scent can be ‘Noir’,” he finally said, popping the cap open to sniff it. “Just smells like...old vanilla. Not sure why the creator likened it to a...crime genre.”

Dean sighed. “It’s just a name, Cas.”

“Okay, but ‘Ocean’ smells like being at the beach. ‘Cucumber Melon’ smells like cucumber and melon. At least when you buy the traditionally female scents, they smell like what they’re supposed to. Look at this.” Cas held up another bottle. “‘Bourbon’. Why do all the mens’ scents have to be so named for things that people deem inherently masculine?” He popped the cap on the bottle of ‘Bourbon’ wash and sniffed it, pulling a face. “Actually, this one kinda smells like that awful stuff you drink sometimes.”

“Gimme that.” Dean took it from his hands and sniffed, eyebrows rising in surprise. “Huh.”

He placed the bottle back on the shelf as Cas grabbed himself bottles of ‘French Lavender Honey’ shower gel and his favorite ‘Cucumber Melon’ lotion and wordlessly started walking toward the front of the store. Dean fell in step behind him and stood silently to the side while Cas pulled crumpled bills from his pockets and handed them to the cashier.

She gave him his change and a small bag with his purchases, and Cas casually looped his arm through Dean’s and led him back out of the store. 

“There. You can breathe again.”

Dean smiled and took a dramatic breath, enjoying the blessedly scent-free air. He always complained about going to Bath and Body Works or the Yankee Candle Store with Cas because the scents were overwhelming and he felt like he was smelling them for hours afterward.

“So we kissed earlier,” Cas said randomly, the first time it’d been brought up since they left the hotel. “It’s not a big deal. Just us bein’ us, you know? Stop stressing over it. I promise you it’s fine.”

Dean made a face, something between an annoyed frown and just sheer disappointment. Cas stopped, causing Dean to stop, and raised a brow.

“What?”

Dean shifted on his feet, glancing around nervously. “Not...not a big deal?”

“No, Dean, it’s no-”

“Does that mean you didn’t like it?”

Cas snapped his jaw shut and blinked, tilting his head. “What?” he asked again.

Dean blushed and cleared his throat. “The- the kiss. Was it...I mean, was it not good?”

Cas blinked again, slower, the corner of his lip quirking. “Dean-”

“Like, I know it was my first time kissing a guy,” Dean continued, licking his lips. “But I kinda figured it mostly worked the same, except for the beard part obviously, which didn’t even bother me actually and I sorta thought it was nice- the kissing- but if it wasn’t any good-”

He was interrupted by Cas’s lips on his, very briefly, nothing more than a peck before Cas was pulling away. It was Dean’s turn to blink like an idiot, lips slightly parted.

“I never said I didn’t like it,” Cas said, eyes bright with adoration. “I actually quite enjoyed it. I just meant you didn’t have to feel weird about the act itself. I’m still me, you’re still you, we’re still us. Nothing has changed. So you can stop looking at me like I’m going to bolt any second.”

Dean stared at Cas for a beat then let out a long breath, nodding once, his frame visibly relaxing. “Yeah, okay, good,” he said. “That’s- wait, so you liked it?”

Cas just grinned and tugged Dean along. “I want a cookie.”

Dean allowed himself to be dragged down the mall, a smile slowly forming until it was a wide grin, and he hoped he didn’t look like a complete idiot. Cas rattled off half a dozen cookies at American Cookie and Dean swiped his card without much thought. He was dragged off again, this time towards the food court, and they both ordered two ridiculously huge slices of pepperoni pizza.

“We should go to Victoria’s Secret,” Cas announced. 

Dean swallowed his current bite and raised a brow. “Why?”

“See if we can find you some nice panties.”

Dean threw a balled up napkin and Cas laughed, and Dean felt an enormous sense of relief as he realized that nothing really had changed at all between them.

Chapter Text

They spent longer out at the mall than either of them intended to, so when Cas suggested that they just spend the rest of the evening relaxing in the motel Dean was more than happy to agree. He was still exhausted from the drive and definitely didn’t feel like walking around a park...though if he was being honest, he’d do whatever Cas asked to do at this point.

They grabbed some snacks on the way back and Dean flopped onto Cas’s bed as the guy dumped all the junk onto the comforter. 

“What do you want first?”

“Hm?” Dean asked, voice muffled by the comforter he had his face buried in. He lifted his head slightly, one eye on Cas. “What?”

“Oh, I know,” Cas said with a grin, shuffling through the mound of candy and other crap food they’d splurged on. He found a pack of strawberry Twizzlers and ripped them open, placing one between his teeth and crawling up the bed toward Dean.

“Ugh. The strawberry ones are gross,” Dean complained, trying and failing to hide his grin when Cas rolled his eyes and pulled the candy from between his teeth.

“All licorice is gross. But if you made me buy it, then compromise was necessary.”

“ I bought it.”

“Well, whatever.” Cas placed the candy between his teeth again and pushed Dean playfully onto his back, lowering the candy until Dean finally took it between his own teeth. Cas chuckled and bit off a small piece, letting Dean have the rest, and flopped onto his back beside him. He wrinkled his nose as he chewed the small bite of licorice. “I’m truly horrified that this is a thing you find appealing. Tastes like...strawberry-flavored tires.”

“Shoulda just let me get the regular tire flavor, if you weren’t gonna eat them, anyway,” Dean grumped, biting off another piece.

Cas looked over at him. “I’m genuinely concerned.”

“About what?”

“Your lack of taste buds.”

Dea shrugged with a small smile. “You tasted alright.”

“That’s even more concerning.”

“It’s better than your damn pork rinds,” Dean shuddered in disgust.

“You mean fried pig skin isn’t a delicacy?”

“You’re fucking gross.”

Cas chuckled and rolled to his side, facing Dean, and tugged the string of tire candy from between his teeth. He waved it around, bopping Dean on the nose with it.

“You’re gonna brush your teeth before you kiss me again,” Cas said with a serious face. “I will not suck on licorice tongue.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do about it,” Dean smirked, stealing his candy back and pointedly taking a bite. “Beats your weed breath any day of the week.”

“Speaking of which,” Cas grunted as he rolled to the side of the bed, digging through his bag briefly before he came back up with a joint.

“How the hell did you get that across the border?” 

Cas just smirked and winked as he lit up, took a drag, and let it out slowly. Dean shook his head and dug through the pile of junk, humming when he found pink Snoballs. 

“Is that why you made me buy all this?” he asked, biting into the chocolate marshmallow coconut cake. “So you could smoke and have something to eat when you get the munchies?”

“The Boy Scouts do say to always be prepared.”

“You were never in the Boy Scouts.”

“It’s just good sense, Dean.”

Dean swallowed as Cas crawled back toward him, knowing what was coming and parting his lips as Cas leaned down to shotgun. Usually Cas kept some distance between their lips, but this time Dean could feel them against his and sighed softly. 

Cas pulled back and grinned, placing the joint between his own lips before rolling back onto his back. 

“So, uh,” Dean managed between bites of his Twizzler, working to rid his mouth of the gross weed flavor. “You plan on kissing me again?”

“Mmm,” Cas hummed around his joint, inhaling sharply. “I believe it was you who kissed me .”

“Semantics.” Dean waved a hand. “That wasn’t the focus of the question, anyway.”

Cas looked mischievously over at him, brow ticking upwards as a slow smile spread across his face. He shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, it wasn’t the worst kiss I’ve ever had.”

Dean chuckled. “Oh?”

“I do think,” Cas continued, turning to face him and crossing his legs, “maybe with a bit of practice, it could be a lot better. I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to kissing, in case you didn’t know.”

Dean suppressed another laugh, raising a brow curiously. “Yeah?”

“I know it may not look like it,” Cas continued, gesturing to his appearance, “but...I don’t accept anything less than the best.”

Dean deadpanned. “You’ve fucked Crowley, for god’s sake.”

“First of all,” Cas said, holding up a finger and pressing it to Dean’s lips, “that goes to show how little you know about me, and second , don’t question my tastes. I like you, don’t I?”

“So you haven’t fucked Crowley.”

Cas watched him with interest as he took another drag from the joint, passing it to Dean as he exhaled. “I thought I’d told you. Crowley likes to watch.”

“That’s...all he does? Seriously?”

“With me? Yeah.” Cas shrugged. “I think he’s still weirded out by the idea of fucking a guy, I dunno. I mean, we’ve done other stuff-”

“Right, yeah. Good.” Dean took a large hit off the joint, coughing and sputtering when it proved to be a little too much. But it effectively stopped that part of the conversation in its tracks, so Dean couldn’t even be mad about it.

“So?” 

Dean blinked and passed the joint back, waving away a cloud of smoke. “So what?”

“We could practice,” Cas repeated, taking a drag. 

Dean licked his lips and sat up, frowning slightly. “See, But now I’m kind of insulted that you think I need practice to begin with,” he grumbled and took another bite of his Snoball. Coconut and weed didn’t mix. 

“Just calling it like I see it.” Cas held up his hands with a smirk, eyes twinkling. 

“Yeah, well, maybe you need practice.”

“Excuse me?” 

Dean sat up straighter and nodded. “That’s right. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this, but you don’t use enough tongue.”

Cas gaped at him, looking genuinely insulted, and roughly grabbed the Snoball before Dean could take another bite. 

“You take that back!” Cas squawked, holding the treat out of Dean’s reach. “Take it back or the Snoball gets it.” 

“No,” Dean said stubbornly. “It was like kissing a..a Christian or something. You were a prude with your tongue.”

Cas actually gasped, nose wrinkling in disgust. “You asshole . How dare you compare me to a conservative .”

“Well,” Dean shot back, “if the shoe fits.” 

It took Cas barely a second after he said it to shove what was left of the Snoball in Dean’s face, cream and marshmallow and chocolate cake smushed into the crease of his lips and smeared across his cheek. 

“Hey-!”

Cas’s eyes went wide and he chuckled and dropped the remainder of the Snoball, scrambling to his feet when Dean lunged at him. Dean paused once he was on his feet, wiping some of the mess off his mouth with a hand and licking it off his thumb. 

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’m your asshole.” Cas grinned cheekily and took a few steps back toward him, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. Once inside, Dean leaned against the counter, the glare he gave Cas holding no real heat behind it. 

Cas was grinning smugly the whole time he was wiping cake and cream from Dean’s face, and Dean kinda wanted to strangle him, but it would be a crime to be the reason that Cas wasn’t smiling. So he just stood there, watching Cas silently gloat.

“For the record,” Cas said finally, and Dean narrowed his eyes at him briefly before Cas took his face between his hands and pressed their lips together. Dean immediately pulled him against his body and opened up when Cas’s tongue licked at the seam of his lips, shivering subtly at the rhythm he set with that tongue, possessive and dominating. 

Cas pulled away after a moment and licked his lips, then he quirked a smile and touched a finger briefly to Dean’s cheek.

“I use the perfect amount of tongue.”

Dean wanted to argue, just to be a shit, but he honestly couldn’t. His lips were still tingling and his brain was a little blurry, fuzzy, short-circuiting mess. There was absolutely nothing about that kiss he could complain about and he already wanted another one. 

“Mmhm,” Cas laughed, seeing the dazed look on Dean’s face. “That’s what I thought.” 

“Shuddup,” Dean finally got his body working again and pushed past the smug Cas. “You owe me a Snoball.” 

“You owe me an apology.”

“Fuck off.”

“I can’t. You wouldn’t let me bring my dildo.” 

Dean groaned and fell back onto the bed. “You exhaust me.” 

“Aww,” Cas crooned, climbing up onto the bad and straddling his waist. “Want me to read you a bedtime story and tuck you in?”

“You’re such a shit.” 

“That a no?”

Dean shoved him off and Cas fell back, chuckling and clearly pleased with himself.  

“I need a shower,” Dean said grumpily, watching Cas make a grab for another snack. “I have cake in my hair.” 

“Mmm,” Cas hummed through a mouthful of Swiss Roll and tossed the pack of Twizzlers to Dean. “Take these abominations with you.”

Dean snatched them off the bed and held them to his chest. “I honestly don’t even know why I’m friends with you. You are everything I hate.”

“In theory,” Cas said, mouth full of more cream-filled cake that absolutely did not send Dean’s mind to dirty places. He chewed and swallowed. “But in reality, you find me to be endearing. Exciting. One of a kind, if you will. A true gem of a human being.”

Damned if Dean didn’t hate when the fucker was right.

He spun on his heel and closed himself off in the bathroom. It was only then that he allowed himself to look in the mirror, and he tentatively touched his lips, trying to reimagine the feel of Cas’s on them. 

----

“No, no, hey! Girl if you don't-”

There was a muffled grunt on the other end of the line and maniacal giggles, and some shuffling over the receiver before Dean heard Sam's voice again. 

“Someone wants to talk to you.”

More shuffling, then: 

“Hi, Unca Dean!”

“Hey kiddo,” Dean smiled, situating the phone between his shoulder and ear as he packed a small bag with snacks for their trip to the park. “You causin’ trouble?”

A pause as Sam whispered something muffled in the background.

“Uh huhhh.”

Dean chuckled. “That's my girl.”

“When you coming home?” She asked, clearly pouting. 

“Soon, baby girl,” Dean promised, glancing around until he spotted a bag of trail mix and added it to his bag. “I’ll bring you back some maple syrup from Canada.”

“I want a toy!”

Dean grinned. “Syrup can be a toy.”

There was a muffled sound and Sam’s voice came over the line again. 

“What are you telling her?” 

“Nothin’,” Dean said smoothly. “Put her back on so Cas can talk to her.” 

Dean handed the phone to Cas, who was still undressed and half asleep. 

“Hey, sugar plum,” Cas murmured, eyes still closed, spread out over the bed. Dean rolled his eyes. Cas had a different nickname for Finn every time he spoke to her. Dean couldn’t remember a time when Cas actually used her name. 

“Mmhm,” Cas hummed as she no doubt rattled off a story. She found Cas fascinating, always wanting to talk to him and play, despite Cas not really being a kid person. 

Dean finished packing and nudged Cas’s foot, a silent command for him to get his ass up and get dressed. Cas merely kicked at him 

“Alright, cupcake, I’ll talk to you later,” Cas finally said, then handed the phone back to Dean. Dean said his goodbyes then hung up, tossing the phone aside and tugging at Cas’s arm. 

“C’mon, up. We gotta go do what we came to do.” 

“It’s early .”

“It’s 11 . We haven’t even had breakfast yet. I want a damn waffle.” 

Cas groaned in long suffering way, but dragged himself out of bed and slowly started to dress. “You and you’re fuckin’ waffles,” he grumbled as he dug for a shirt.

“I wasn’t the one who stayed up all night eating junk and watching YouTube,” Dean shrugged, plopping down on the bed and leaning back on his hands. “Should’ve gone to bed when I did.” 

“Upset you didn’t get your cuddles?” Cas snorted. 

“Yes,” Dean said gravely. “I depend on those. Cuddles are part of your rent and you’re past due, mister.” 

“Okay, but doesn’t the kissing count for something?” Cas pulled a shirt over his head. “You sayin’ I wasted some of my best moves on you?”

“Your best moves, huh?” Dean was grinning now.

“Not that I don’t have plenty more up my sleeve,” Cas shrugged, toeing on a pair of worn out shoes. 

“Right. Well tell you what, you cuddle me tonight and I may just forgive the rest.”

Cas pointed at him as he clicked his tongue and made a poor attempt at winking. “Deal.”

Winchester Park was only a short drive away, and they spent it in silence, instead choosing to bask in the slow jam of Bob Seger that Dean swore Sam must’ve left in the Impala. Cas seemed to get more antsy the closer they got, looking out the window anxiously and wringing his hands together. Cas was a big believer in symbolism, and so Dean knew something like this would be important to him, and he understood the meaning behind it. Plus, whatever was important to Cas was important to him, too.

They walked around the park a bit until they got their bearings, then spent the next couple of minutes inspecting the trees along the path that Cas insisted was the right one until Dean realized that it was indeed the wrong path. He got them back on course and they quickly found the tree, an old oak, much bigger now than it was then. Their initials. DW. JM with the ‘M’ crossed out, replaced with a ‘W’. Cas ran his fingers over the grooves and smiled, and Dean took his place on the bench beneath the tree, crossing an ankle over his knee.

Cas stood up straight again and frowned down at the ground, turning in his place. Looking for something.

“Problem?” Dean raised a brow.

“Can’t find...a sharp rock,” Cas said slowly, crouching down to sift through the grass.

“Gotcha,” Dean said, pulling his knife from his back pocket and unsheathing the blade before presenting the handle side to Cas. Cas smiled at him as he took it, then hunched over the tree, carving his new initials there.

It was tricky work, turning a ‘J’ into a ‘C’, and Cas stuck the tip of his tongue out as he concentrated. Dean watched silently and slipped his hands into his pockets, rocking on his heels. When Cas was done, he stepped back to survey his work. Dean hummed and nodded, nudging Cas with his shoulder.

“Can hardly tell there was ever a ‘J’ there,” he smiled.

“You think?” Cas asked, tilting his head at it.

“Yep.”

Cas was silent for a while and Dean quirked a brow, glancing sideways at him. “What’s up?”

“I…” Cas sighed and huffed a small laugh. “I guess I thought this would feel more...profound. It seems...silly now, driving all the way up here.”

Dean chewed his lip for a moment then sniffed, scrubbing at his cheek. “It’s not. Silly, I mean.” He stepped forward and traced the outlines of their initials. “Know what I think?”

“Hm?”

“The ‘W’ should be an ‘N’.”

He turned to see Cas frowning at him, looking hurt. Almost as hurt as it made Dean to say it.

He shrugged. “Yeah. Castiel Novak was your chosen name. You used Winchester long enough to make yourself...you. Right? But you’re not Castiel Winchester now. You’re Castiel Novak. You’re one hundred percent you.”

Cas looked almost sad.

“Think about how far you’ve come since the last time we stood here,” Dean continued. “Think about where you were last time you stood here and where you are now. Your evolution from Jimmy Milton, to Jimmy Winchester, to Castiel Novak. A lot’s changed since then.”

“Yes…” Cas nodded, frowning.

“You can finally be you now,” Dean continued. “You don’t have to be Jimmy anymore. You don’t have to be Jimmy Milton, who kept getting passed around by dick foster parents, who got bullied, who had to try to fit in just to survive. You don’t have to be Jimmy Winchester, who only had a good childhood when you were with my family. You get to be Castiel Novak. You’re you and you don’t give two shits if people don’t like it. You’ve made your own identity. You rose above the shitty cards you were dealt and made something better out of it.”

“Fuck,” Cas breathed, another moment passing before a slow smile spread across his face. “Yeah. Jimmy’s gone now. It’s just...me.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, giving a hard nod before stepping forward and slowly carving the ‘W’ into an ‘N’. He stepped back and smiled widely at his work, before turning to Dean.

Dean’s heart might’ve broken if Cas didn’t look so goddamned peaceful.

Dean smiled back and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him in briefly. “This was a big thing, man. You’re allowed to be proud of it.”

He could’ve sworn Cas’s eyes were watery, but he turned away before he could be sure, pulling out his phone to take a few pictures of the tree. He convinced Dean to take a few photos with him in front of the initials, even once turning to kiss him on the cheek, one hand on the other side of Dean’s face. Dean wasn’t looking forward to seeing how obvious his blush would be in the ones taken after that.

They stayed for a few more hours, talking and reminiscing, and on the way back to the car Dean threw an arm over Cas’s shoulders, which prompted Cas to wrap his arms around his middle. Cas was giddy like he sometimes got when he smoked, despite not having smoked anything yet that day. By the time they arrived back at the hotel, Dean was convinced that maybe there was something to Cas’s cathartic experience.

“Well then, Castiel Novak,” Dean said playfully as he shut the door behind them and tossed his keys onto the dresser. “What will you do now that your past is officially behind you?”

Cas turned to look at him, tilting his head, lips parted, squinting like he often did when he was puzzling things out. Another beat and Dean waited, eyebrows slightly raised in a silent question. Cas slowly pressed his lips together as he straightened, and then he was closing the space between them, knocking them both back against the door as he pressed their lips together.

The intensity of the kiss hit them both quickly, desperation in both their movements, hips rocking against one another as they found their rhythm. Cas was hurriedly fidgeting with the button of his pants while simultaneously attempting to rid Dean of his, and he pulled back panting before switching their positions. He turned to press his cheek to the door, pulling Dean close behind him and craning his neck back to capture his lips again. 

Dean wrapped his arms around his waist from behind and kissed him like his life depended on it, decidedly past the point of no return. Cas panted against his lips as he worked his pants open and pushed them down his thighs, then reached behind him to cup Dean through his.

“Fuck me, Dean,” Cas whispered against his lips, rocking back against him. Dean pulled back enough to see Cas staring at him with wide blue eyes, his lust-blown pupils making him look wilder than normal. Dean hesitated, meeting his gaze and tightening his grip on Cas’s body, splaying his fingers across his abdomen under his shirt.

“Don’t think about it,” Cas said softly, reaching a hand back to touch Dean’s cheek. “Please. Just…”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered, fingers digging into Cas’s skin. He knew he shouldn’t, that it could destroy what they had and probably leave him a broken mess. But Cas said don’t think about it. So he didn’t. 

“Okay, I-“ he swallowed, looking around briefly. “I don’t ha-“

“My bag. Little pocket.” 

Dean reluctantly pulled away long enough to dig through Cas’s bag, finding a small bottle of lube and a condom. Shaking, Dean took his place behind Cas once again and kissed the back of his neck. He took the time to pepper kisses across Cas’s back and shoulders, wanting to savor each second, too afraid this was a dream. He’d spent so long wishing he could touch Cas like this and now he had it, for however brief a time.  

Dean, with trembling hands, poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and reached down- 

It occurred to him, quite suddenly, he’d never done this before. Not even on himself.

Cas seemed to sense his hesitation and glanced back, eyes swimming with worry. “Dean, if you don’t want-“

“No, no, I just-“ Dean blushed and stammered. “I, Uh, n-never done... this. Specifically. I don’t wanna mess it up.” 

“It's okay,” Cas assured him, taking his hand in his own and guiding it slowly, as if he was expecting Dean to change his mind. He widened his stance to give Dean better access, finally pressing Dean's lubed fingers against his rim and holding them there.

Dean let out a heavy breath as he slowly pushed two fingers inside, and Cas made a choked sound, bracing his hands against the door and bumping his forehead against it with a thunk. Dean wiggled his fingers experimentally, in awe of the sounds he was able to pull from Cas, so much better than he'd ever been able to imagine on his own. 

“Now angle them down, y- fuck, yeah, that’s it…”

The angle had Cas’s legs shaking almost instantly, so Dean laid a steadying hand on his hip.

“T-the condom, Dean, please,” Cas begged, shuddering hard when Dean grabbed his chin and kissed him again, slowly sliding his fingers in and out. 

Dean reluctantly retracted his fingers and fumbled with the wrapper, finally tearing into it and rolling the condom onto his cock. He squirted more lube onto his cock and rubbed some against Cas's rim, breathing heavily as he lined himself up. 

He wasn't sure what made him pause; whether it was his uncertainty, his fear, or his worry that they'd be changing things between them forever. But he froze, closed his eyes slowly, took a shaky breath. 

“It’s okay,” Cas repeated softly, reaching back to grip his hip. “Need you, Dean. Please. Just...fuck. Please. ”

That was all it took to destroy whatever resolve Dean had. He gripped Cas’s hip with one hand and slipped the other around his waist, pulling him close as he pushed inside. He choked as Cas shuddered around him, the already tight passage clamping down on him. Dean snapped his hips, burying himself in one motion. Cas gasped, jerking, and Dean pressed his forehead between his shoulder blades. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean said quickly. “Did I hurt-”

“Dammit, Dean, fuck me ,” Cas growled, pushing back and moaning as Dean’s cock slid just a little deeper.

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He gripped Cas’s chin and turned his head, letting out a pleased hum when he saw Cas’s lips were already parted for him. He slid out as they kissed until just the head of his cock was trapped inside that exquisite heat, then snapped his hips again. Cas moaned into his mouth, his grip on the wall slacking. Dean grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, holding them there while his other arm kept a firm hold on Cas’s waist.

He gave a hard thrust and Cas cried out against his lips, making a choked sound before pressing his cheek back against the door. Dean was torn between relentlessly fucking into that tight heat and wanting to just hold Cas, kiss him, savor the closeness between them like it was the only time he’d ever get the chance to. 

“Dean ,” Cas panted, his hands twitching under Dean’s, clawing at the door, “ harder.”

Dean was already breathless, overwhelmed with sensation and emotion he couldn’t even properly express...and he refused to let them get the best of him. He didn’t think he’d ever have to actively work to keep himself from tearing up while having sex with someone. 

But there he was.

He bit the inside of his cheek and moved his hands back to Cas’s hips as he set a rougher, more consistent pace. Cas let his head fall between his shoulders, bracing himself against the door with his hands and pushing back against Dean’s onslaught. It still didn’t feel like enough, the angle weird and difficult. He glanced over at the small bistro table and pulled out, not giving Cas a chance to argue before he kicked one of the chairs out of the way and bent Cas over the table. 

Cas immediately grabbed the far edge of the table and cried out when Dean pushed back in. The position was much better and Dean was able to get deeper, thrust harder, map out the sharp planes of muscle of Cas’s back with gentle hands as he fucked into him. 

“...shit,” Dean ground out, pressing his fingers so hard into Cas’s hips that he was sure there would be bruises. “I’m...not gonna last, Cas. Fuck.”

Cas only moaned in response, allowing himself to be rocked with Dean’s movements, until he finally lifted just enough to press his forehead against the table.

“Close, I’m close,” Cas breathed, sounding utterly wrecked. It gave Dean a weird sense of pride, knowing that for once he was the one able to have Cas this way, that he was the reason Cas was moaning and shaking. That Cas had picked him , at a time that he was emotional and vulnerable. 

After all, Cas didn’t do emotional.

Dean reached down blindly, but Cas wasn’t exactly small and so it wasn’t difficult to get his hand around the thick length bobbing between Cas’s thighs. He squeezed and stroked in time with his thrusts, which were becoming increasingly erratic as his release continued to build. Cas jerked into his hand, nails scraping against the surface of the table, his back arching beautifully as Dean thrust roughly inside. He looked too fucking good, so damn perfect, felt so damn good .

Dean bit down on his cheek to stifle a moan as he came, hips stuttering as he spilled as deep as he could get. Cas didn’t bother to hide his groan, singing loud and long for Dean as he came seconds after. It spilled across the floor and table, soaking Dean’s hand as he stroked him through it. 

Dean finally slumped forward, panting roughly into the sweaty skin of Cas’s back. Cas didn’t seem to mind the dead weight on top of him, reaching back to grip Dean’s side as he fought to catch his breath. They both lay like that for a moment, still locked together, the reality of what just happened sinking in. Dean could feel the moment Cas tensed and he knew Cas was waiting for him to freak out, have his ‘gay panic’ or whatever.

It didn’t come and Dean thought vaguely it was weird that it didn’t. But he’d dissect that later. For now, he simply kissed Cas on the shoulder and grinned.

“We should do that again.”

He stood and pulled out slowly, looking around the room for something to clean up with as he peeled the condom off. Cas slowly pushed himself back to his feet and slouched against the wall as he worked to catch his breath, looking curiously up at Dean.

“Yeah?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean said, grabbing a towel out of the bathroom and tossing it over to Cas. “Do you, I mean...did you not want to?”

“I want to,” Cas said evenly, scrunching his nose slightly as he cleaned the mess from his cock and stomach. “I’ve...wanted to for a long time, so…”

Dean eyed him when Cas handed the towel back over, taking it slowly from his hands. “How long?”

Cas stared blankly for a moment before smiling shyly down at the floor, huffing a laugh. “Doesn’t matter, does it?”

Dean said the next words before he could stop himself. “Cause it’s just sex?”

Cas’s smile disappeared almost immediately and he looked back up at Dean, tilting his head. “What?”

“Uh...nothing,” Dean said quickly, waving a hand. “Nothing. The point is, yes, I want to do it again, and yes, I’ve wanted to for a long time, too.”

“You could’ve just asked,” Cas teased, wincing as he sat down on the bed.

Dean frowned. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Cas assured him, laying on his back and propping his head up on his arms. “Just a little sore, is all. You fucked me pretty good, Winchester.”

Dean chewed the inside of his cheek. “You’re the one who kept wanting it harder-”

“I like it that way,” Cas shrugged, grinning. He patted the bed beside him. “C’mere.”

Dean tossed the towel aside and rubbed the back of his neck a little shyly then crawled onto the bed, settling beside Cas and turning to face him. Cas’s grin softened into a smile and he reached out, stroking Dean’s cheek.

“You’re not gonna get weird on me, are you?” Cas asked.

“What exactly do you find weird?” Dean snorted weakly, tracing patterns in the sheets between them.

“Fair point,” Cas nodded. They both fell silent, though it wasn’t completely uncomfortable, and Cas’s fingers never stopped stroking Dean’s skin. 

Then:

“‘S nice cock you got there.”

Dean nearly choked on his laugh.

“Uh, thanks,” he said between chuckles. “I grew it myself.”

“Ah,” Cas nodded sagely. “So all natural, then.”

“Yep. Completely organic.”

“Emphasis on the organ part.”

Dean shook his head and pushed at Cas weakly, earning a chuckle from him. They fell silent again until, once again, Cas broke it with another comment Dean never saw coming.

“I’m waiting.”

Dean blinked in confusion until Cas, very pointedly, gestured down at himself. Dean’s eyes widened and he blushed, then chuckled with a small nod.

“You, uh, got a nice cock too, Cas.”

“Oh, thank you,” Cas said innocently, smirking. “Such a sweet talker.”

Cas rolled onto his back and opened up his arms in silent invitation. Dean eagerly scooted over, closing the gap between them and hooking his arm and leg around Cas’s middle. He rested his head on Cas’s chest and sighed when he felt fingers in his hair, could hear Cas’s heartbeat in his ear. 

“Leech,” Cas muttered with no venom whatsoever.

“Hippie,” Dean shot back, closing his eyes.

Dean started to drift off to sleep, so thoroughly content and sated, until Cas’s voice broke through the silence one more time.

“...that was my last condom.”

“Shit.”

----

Dean had so many questions.

Most concerning was where he and Cas stood now, but they’d spent the rest of the evening in bed together watching old Westerns on one of the few channels the motel got and Dean had been too much of a chicken to bring it up. Cas seemed normal- or rather, normal for him- and probably unconcerned with labeling whatever it was anyway, and aside from an off-hand comment every so often, it was almost like it didn’t happen.

Not necessarily in a bad way. It wasn’t as if they were avoiding the fact that it happened, or even making any attempt to redress themselves, instead opting to stay tangled together throughout the night. And Cas was...sweet with him. Tender. Dean knew without a doubt that Cas would readily put his life on the line for him, no questions asked. He would do literally anything Dean asked of him. But he’d never been like this with him before.

Which was insane, because he was the one who’d been bent over the table, not Dean.

But what did they do now? Would Cas wake up and regret his decision? Was it simply that Cas was self-proclaimed “pent up” and emotional? Maybe he’d never really meant for it to happen at all.

And fuck, that would hurt. It would hurt to have to make that drive back to their home, knowing that what transpired would never happen again. Knowing that it meant nothing. It would hurt to know he was nothing more to Cas than a vacation fling, it would hurt to hear his freakish music coming from the bedroom beside his and watch the love of his life walk out the front door on his way to an orgy that didn’t even include him.

Dean wasn’t going to let that happen. As long as Cas was willing to do this, Dean was going to hold onto it as tightly as he could manage. Because he’d take loving Cas whatever way he could, even if it wasn’t the exact way he wanted. 

Dean tensed when Cas stirred in his arms, and he vaguely wondered how they’d practically switched positions in their sleep, Cas halfway laying on top of him now. Dean quirked a smile and gently rubbed up and down his back.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he said, voice rough with sleep. “Sweet dreams?”

“Mmm.” Cas stretched out an arm without so much as opening an eye. “I’d say yes, but a very familiar pain in my ass is making me think maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.”

Dean snorted. “I mean, I wasn’t gonna brag, but maybe you’re not the only sex god around here, huh?”

Cas chuckled and Dean swore he rolled his eyes while they were still closed. “Nobody likes a braggart, Winchester.” 

“Mmm.”

“Besides,” Cas opened one eye, looking up at him, “you haven’t seen close to all I can do.”

Dean swallowed, his throat feeling dry all the sudden. “Oh yeah? Guess, uh, you’ll have to show me…”

“Oh, I plan to,” Cas said easily, as if promising to fuck Dean in all his freaky hippie ways wasn’t a big deal. 

“Guess I proved you wrong, huh?” Dean asked when Cas closed his eyes again, seeming content to doze with his face pressed into Dean’s chest.

“Hmm?” Cas hummed drowsily.

“Me being a soft fuck.”

A slow smile spread across Cas’s face and glanced up at Dean, his eyes so damn blue and deep that Dean couldn’t help but stare right at them.

“Nah, you’re still a soft fuck,” Cas chuckled, splaying his hand across Dean’s belly. “There’s nothing wrong with that, for the record. Putting emotion into sex is...inevitable for us, I think. There’s too much history for there not to be. And let’s be honest, you’re the only person I really give a fuck about.”

“You’re really good at pillow talk.”

“Considering this is my first time, I thought it was pretty damn good,” Cas shrugged. “I don’t usually stick around for the morning after.”

“Well,” Dean murmured, burying his fingers in Cas’s hair, “don’t I feel special.”

“Plus, you make an excellent body pillow,” Cas said, squeezing Dean with the arm and leg currently thrown over him. “And my Huggy Bear needs his cuddles.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes. “You’re poking me.”

Cas grinned, grinding his hips and pressing his cock against Dean’s thigh. “You should do something about it.”

“You’re right,” Dean nodded and shoved Cas off the bed, laughing as he squawked in surprise and landed with a hard thump . He laughed even harder when Cas popped his head up, hair sticking up and his sleepy eyes glaring daggers at Dean.

“That’s it,” Cas said as he stood, looking as haughty as ever. “My ass is closed . No more fucks for you. Only gentlemen are allowed to bend me over tables.”

“I’ll be the best damn gentleman you ever saw,” Dean said with wide sincere eyes.

“I just bet you will.” Cas looked around the room with a frown, finding a pair of his jeans on the floor in front of the unused bed and shrugging them on. “So what’d you have in mind for today?”

Dean shrugged. “Nothin’ in particular. I mean, well…”

Cas raised a brow. “Well what?”

“I’d hoped we’d be making a run to the store at some point.”

“...for?”

Dean laughed and coughed, idly fidgeting with the covers around his waist. “You said you were out of condoms, didn’t you?”

Cas chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed the room to rifle through his bag. He pulled out an old t-shirt Dean immediately recognized as his and slipped it over his head. “So you do plan on gettin’ lucky again during this trip?”

“Well, I’d hoped.”

“I see.” Cas grabbed a pair of socks and sat on the edge of the bed, propping one foot up on his knee to pull one on. “I dunno how gentlemanly I currently think you are.”

“Oh, I can be a gentleman.”

“I guess I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Dean grinned and got out of bed, quickly dressing and meeting Cas in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth. They barely said a word before they got in the car, instead exchanging flirty touches and secret smiles while they finished getting ready.

Dean buckled his seatbelt and rested his hands on the steering wheel, looking over at Cas. “Alright, then. Where to?”

“The store, I suppose. See, my friend wants me to buy more condoms so that he can spend all night fucking me in a vain attempt to convince me that he’s not, in fact, a soft fuck.”

“He sounds like a determined guy.”

Cas quirked a smile. “He’s a lot of things.”

“Bet he’s damn handsome, though.”

“He is that,” Cas agreed.

Dean grinned and turned the car down the road. “Pour Some Sugar on Me” was playing quietly and Dean hummed to it, fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

“Ever had road head?”

Dean choked on his own spit and turned to Cas wide-eyed. Cas looked back at him innocently, as if he’d only asked Dean about the weather.

“That- ah, uh, n-no,” Dean blushed, looking back at the road, shifting in his seat when he felt his cock twitch with interest. “That- Jesus, I don’t-”

“Want one?” Cas asked with a slow grin, already moving to unbuckle his seatbelt.

Dean’s brain was short circuiting and he failed to answer, his mouth doing an excellent impression of a fish. Cas seemed to take this as a ‘yes’- it certainly wasn’t a ‘no’- and slid across the bench seat. Dean tensed, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. 

“Cas,” he hissed, anxiously glancing around. “I don’t think-”

“Don’t kill us,” Cas chuckled then unzipped him, humming when he saw Dean was already half hard. 

Dean visibly swallowed, his heart beating wildly as he focused on keeping the car steady. It was almost impossible when he felt that warm mouth engulf him in one go, wet heat surrounding him and a slippery tongue playing over his head. Dean inhaled sharply, fighting the urge to close his eyes and thrust up. 

He glanced down quickly then back up at the road, humming on his exhale, attempting to focus on loosening his grip slightly on the wheel. Cas sunk down, hollowing his cheeks as he pulled back again, head steadily bobbing in Dean’s lap. 

Dean found it easier to feel in control of himself and the situation once he moved a hand into Cas’s hair, massaging his scalp and occasionally giving him praise in the form of moans or shaky breaths. It wasn’t as good as the first blowjob (although, Dean was pretty sure that was only because he was forced to focus on the road rather than his pleasure) but it still easily made his top ten. 

“ Oh, fuck, oh, Cas, I’m gonna-”

Cas took him deep over and over, squeezing his thigh with one hand, choking himself on Dean’s cock. Dean barely pressed down on Cas’s head as he spilled down his throat, and it wasn’t until seconds later that he realized he’d been driving fifteen under the speed limit. He glanced in the rearview mirror, thankful that no one was immediately behind him. 

He shuddered when Cas finally pulled off, tucking him away and rebuckling his seatbelt. Cas turned partially in his seat, pulling a leg up with him so he was facing Dean. 

“You taste good.”

Dean blushed and shook his head, chuckling. “Dude-”

“I just find it interesting, considering your diet when I’m not around,” Cas said, shrugging, but he smiled a little when Dean glared over at him. “Anyway. Carry on. You must be doing something right.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, still chuckling softly. “That’s the weirdest compliment I think I’ve ever gotten.”

“But genuine.”

Amidst his post-orgasm high, Dean almost forgot where they were going. He turned into the parking lot of a store at the last minute and they walked inside, Cas making a beeline towards the personal hygiene section. Dean followed after him at a slower pace, hands in his pockets, and found Cas scrutinizing several different boxes.

“What are you? Extra small or small?”

“Hardy har har,” Dean snorted as he came to a stop next to Cas. 

Cas smiled and waved the boxes around. “Help me pick.”

“Dude, they’re condoms,” Dean rolled his eyes. “They all pretty much function the same.”

“Wrong,” Cas said in an exasperated tone. “These are flavored, these are ribbed, these are glow-in-the-dark-”

“Seriously?”

“-and these are different colors.”

“Uh,” Dean blinked down at them. “The...normal ones?”

Cas deadpanned at him then virtually ignored Dean as he chose the ribbed and the glow-in-the-dark, putting the others back on the shelf.

“Really?” Dean smirked, poking the glow-in-the-dark box. “What are we gonna do with these?”

“Light saber fights,” Cas said very seriously.

“I mean, that seems kinda unfair,” Dean muttered. “You’re bigger.”

Cas paused and turned to Dean, his lips splitting into a grin. “Am I?”

Dean blushed, now realizing he was busted for noticing . “W-well...not by a lot, just...but yeah, a little…”

“Huh,” Cas continued walking, Dean following close behind. “I guess I never really paid any attention to my size.”

“You’ve never...measured?” Dean asked.

Cas shrugged. “No? Is that weird?”

“I have no idea,” Dean chuckled. “I thought most guys did, but maybe it was just me.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re, like, big though,” Dean cleared his throat, still blushing. “Just so you know.”

“Noted.”

Dean nodded awkwardly, and Cas eyed him, tilting his head.

“You know, this...whatever this is, there’s no expectations or anything, alright? I didn’t...it’s not like I’m hoping to...get to…” Cas gestured to him, breaking eye contact, “top you, or, um...whatever. I get it, that’s a whole different bag, and y’know, I’m cool with what’s happening now, so...if that’s what’s bothering you-”

“N-no,” Dean stammered, loudly enough that the cashier gave them a questioning look. Cas grinned at the kid, who looked like he was about high school age, and plopped the box of condoms onto the belt. The kid- Steve, his nametag read- intentionally avoided Cas’s stare as he swiped the box across the scanner, raising his brows slightly at the packaging.

“I know, glow-in-the-dark, right?” Cas laughed, leaning heavily onto the conveyor. “I don’t understand the need, but I can appreciate the creativity.”

Steve blushed heavily but proceeded to check them out, finally handing Cas a receipt and his bag. 

“I was more just...stating the obvious,” Dean said when they stepped outside. “I...to be honest, I hadn’t really...thought that far ahead. I wasn’t even sure you’d want to do it again, much less...and I...I dunno though, how- or when- I may be ready for that.”

“I understand.” Cas gave him a smile over the top of the car before opening the door and getting inside, and Dean did the same. “It’s fine. I happen to like being fucked, anyway.”

“I’m gonna pretend you meant specifically by me.”

Cas just smiled and kissed him, patting his leg as he pulled away to buckle.

It was silent for a few minutes as Dean drove down the road, idly thinking they should eat lunch soon, then slowly glanced over at Cas. He opened his mouth then closed it, turning back to the road. After a few seconds, his eyes darted over to Cas again, a finger tapping away on the steering wheel.

“Something you wanna ask me?” Cas quirked a brow.

“Ah, just…” Dean cleared his throat. “Just wonderin’.”

“About…?”

“If you’ve, you know...thought about it.” Dean blinked and wet his lips. “Fucking me.”

Cas huffed a soft laugh and scratched at his jaw. “Not to freak you out too much, but yes. Quite a bit, actually.”

Dean felt a tingle down his spine. His grip tightened momentarily before he forced himself to loosen his fingers. It wasn’t he’d never thought about it, but Dean was very much aware of the fact that he only had one foot out of the closet, so to speak. Noticing guys- especially Cas- were always on the peripheral and not something he poked at too much when he was younger. Then Cas moved in and he was forced to face the fact that he may, in fact, like dick too. Cas’s, specifically. Even that realization only left him wondering what the hell to do about it. He’d never acted on any of his feelings, never even kissed another guy, let alone get fucked by one. And, because he’s a big fucking coward, he never even tried it on himself. No fingers, certainly no dildos. He was the worst kind of gay virgin. Or bi, in his case. 

“Hey,” Cas poked his arm. “Come back to me.”

Dean blinked and glanced over at him, nodding slightly. “Yeah. Sorry, just, uh…”

“You’re overthinking things,” Cas murmured. “I can tell.”

“I just...I’m not sure how to go about this,” Dean shrugged, feeling a little stupid. “I don’t….Jesus, Cas, I can’t lose you. What if-”

“Shh,” Cas unbuckled and scooched over, laying a hand on Dean’s cheek and kissing him on the temple. “You’re not losin’ me. No expectations, remember? It’s still us. We’ll be...casual about it, okay?”

“Casual.”

“Yeah,” Cas shrugged, fingers stroking the stubble on Dean’s cheek. “Just let it happen as it happens. We’re still friends, we just occasionally kiss and fuck.”

Dean quirked a smile. “We already kissed before.”

“Yes, but those were friendly kisses. Now they’re gonna be tongue kisses. It’s different.”

 “But no longer friendly?”

“Still friendly,” Cas smiled. “Just...maybe a little too friendly.”

“There's no such thing.”

“Sure.”

Dean pressed his lips together and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “You hungry? I think there’s a Waffle House up here somewhere.”

“I could eat.”

Sure enough, there was an old Waffle House a few miles down the road. Dean pulled into one of the many vacant parking spots and cut the engine.

They ordered two All Star Specials, both with bacon but Dean’s with scrambled eggs and Cas’s over medium. Dean sipped at his small cup of orange juice while Cas prepared their coffees. 

“So there’s, uh...we should...probably talk, right? About how casual exactly this is going to be here, or...you know, some parameters?”

Cas raised a brow at him as he poured little creamers into their coffees and stirred. “We can do that, if you’d like.”

“Well, I feel like we probably should.”

“Okay.”

Dean chewed his lip. “Unless you don’t-”

“Dean,” Cas said sternly, laying his hands flat on the table, “you don’t need to make it a thing. If you want to talk about it, we will. If you don’t, we won’t. It’s literally that simple.”

“Um. Okay,” Dean said slowly, touching his fingertips to the tabletop. “So say I do want to continue...casually...sleeping together?”

“Then we will.” Cas barely shook his head, narrowing his eyes, as if he didn’t fully understand why Dean had to ask. 

“And if it gets weird-”

“Then we’ll stop.”

“Should we-” Dean paused when the waitress brought their food, giving her a smile when she sat the plates down in front of them. “Should we maybe...set limits or something?”

Cas stared at him a minute before breaking out into a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. “I don’t have any limits, Dean.”

Dean stared at him for a moment before he coughed, taking a bite of eggs. “No, of course you don’t.”

“Maybe we should discuss your limits,” Cas suggested as he cut up his waffle then drizzled a healthy amount of syrup on top. 

“You, uh, plan on bringing out the whips and chains or something?” Dean snorted a weak laugh.

“If you’re up for that sort of thing.”

Dean closed his eyes, counted to ten, then exhaled slowly. “Let’s just stick with normal fucking for now, okay?”

“Hmm,” Cas hummed around a mouthful of waffle. “Define ‘normal’ for me.”

Dean rolled his eyes and leaned back in the booth, tapping a finger on the table. “As in no orgies, no weird drugs-”

“Geez, take all the fun out of it-”

Dean sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Cas-”

“Okay, okay,” Cas chuckled, reaching across the table to squeeze Dean’s hand. “I get it. We’ll just ease into things.”

“I’m not easing into orgies.”

“Not what I meant,” Cas smiled. “Look, it’s no surprise I get a little freaky in bed-”

Dean snorted.

“-but we’ll only do what you’re comfortable with,” Cas shrugged easily. “Whatever you wanna do, Dean. And I can show you a thing or two in the meantime.”

Dean smirked a little, biting his lip. “You gonna show me that freaky shit you do, huh?”

Cas tilted his head, eyes gleaming mischievously. “In time, maybe. I’m not sure you could handle my unique tastes.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue that point, but thought that Cas was probably right. If he was completely honest with himself, he’d only ever had vanilla sex. Vanilla compared to Cas, anyway. While Cas kept most of his escapades outside the house, Dean had heard a few things through their shared wall. He could only imagine what kind of things Cas did between the sheets.

“Just, uh, gimme a heads up,” Dean mumbled, a blush on his cheeks. “Before you...show me your, uh, tricks.”

“But that would spoil the fun of the surprise.”

“I would prefer to do this sans surprise.”

“I see.” Cas took a bite of his bacon, smiling as he chewed. 

Dean pretended to be really interested in his plate, pushing around his eggs a little before finally shoveling a forkful into his mouth. He really wanted to bring up the subject of the orgies again solely because he couldn’t stand the idea of Cas with anyone other than him...especially now. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in any position to be able to dictate to Cas who he was allowed to be in sexual contact with. He had to ask himself if it was better to have Cas any way than it was to not have him at all, and there was no question. 

Yes. Yes, it was.

Chapter Text

“What’s the most...I suppose, out-of-the-ordinary sexual experience you’ve ever had?” Cas asked randomly, drawing Dean’s attention again.

“Hm?”

Cas shrugged. “May give me an idea of what to expect. So I don’t cross boundaries or whatever. Pretty much nothing is off limits for me, so I’m just trying to sort of gauge where on the spectrum you are. So, I mean...you never told me if you had been with a guy before-”

“Definitely haven’t.”

“Mkay. So then, I know of that incident with Rhonda, and I know about Lisa, and Jo, a few others whose names I can’t remember cause they were one or few-time things…” Cas trailed off, frowning at him as he took a sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a guess and say it was with Lisa.”

Dean laughed. “Why? Cause I was with her the longest?”

“Nah, because you were always braggin’ to me about how ‘bendy’ she was, and because when I was around she seemed like a prude, and the ones who seem the most prudish end up having freak flags.” Cas rolled his eyes and waved a hand.

“Not exactly a scientific answer.”

“I’m tellin’ you, it’s Lisa.”

“You’re bendy, too,” Dean shrugged, cutting a piece of his waffle and shoving it into his mouth. “You’re always doin’ that yoga shit in the living room...in those tight little shorts.”

“I had no idea you’d been watching,” Cas said with a knowing smirk.

“Shut up,” Dean mumbled.

“Stop avoiding the question,” Cas said, leaning forward. “C’mon, tell me. One little freaky thing you did.”

Dean sighed and set down his fork, glancing briefly out the window. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed necessarily, but his experiences compared to Cas’s were probably fairly tame. What he thought was ‘out of the ordinary’ was most likely run of the mill for Cas.

“There must be something,” Cas insisted. “No judgement, I promise. I just need a jumping off point.”

“It’s really nothin’,” Dean shrugged, finally looking back at Cas and fiddling with his napkin. “Lisa and I-”

“I fucking knew it.”

Dean pointedly cleared his throat and Cas smirked, but remained silent.

“Lisa and I,” Dean started over, “were at the movies and...well, kinda drunk from dinner to be honest. Little too much wine, you know? Anyway, I can’t even remember what we were watching, but whatever it was got her goin’. She dropped to her knees and sucked me off right there. Jesus, we had people sitting two rows behind us, but...I dunno, I didn’t care. One of the best blowjobs of my life.”

Cas raised a brow.

“Excluding yours, of course,” Dean said quickly, giving him a wink.

“Did the people behind you see you? Did they know what you were doing?”

Dean swallowed. “I...I think so, yeah. I mean, I dunno for sure, but I thought they were.”

“And you liked that.” Cas speared a few pieces of waffle and watched Dean until he finally nodded, then raised the forkful to his mouth. “So, you like it when people watch. So really, we’re not so different, you and I.” Cas snorted, eyes gleaming.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far-”

“Sure. Yeah, okay.” Cas added an extra sugar packet to his remaining coffee and took a sip. “Well lucky for you, I like being watched, too.”

“I’m not sure being watched falls under the umbrella of ‘casual’ sex,” Dean pointed out, passing the last of his juice over to Cas.

“It does if you want it to.”

Dean chewed his lip. “I’m not sure how much else I want to know about your sex life.”

“We could make it a game.”

“A game?”

“Yeah.” Cas tipped back the last sip of juice and looked down at his plate. “Like, ‘never have I ever’.”

Dean snorted. “I haven’t played that since high school.”

“Okay, then. Just ask me what you want to know.”

“Will you…” Dean paused, “uh...tell your friends we’re, um... having a casual thing?”

“I’ll tell them whatever you want me to tell them,” Cas shrugged, “or I’ll tell them nothing. It’s up to you.” He hesitated with a forkful of egg, tilting his head at Dean. “Why? Should we keep it a secret? Do you not want Sam or your parents to know?”

“No, it’s not that...exactly,” Dean chewed his lip thoughtfully, pushing at what was left of his food around on the plate with his fork. “It’s more like I don’t want them in on our business. People don’t really get us , and to be frank I hear enough from them already because of it. I just think, for now, we should keep it to ourselves until it- this- whatever we’re doing is a little more stable.”

“You’re afraid outside influences might harm the situation,” Cas said slowly, swallowing his eggs.

“I...guess?” Dean shrugged. “All I know is that I don’t want their noses in our business. We’re adults. We don’t gotta tell them everything.”

Cas nodded silently then narrowed his eyes. “And it has nothing to do with possibly being ashamed of it? Of me?” 

Dean frowned and shook his head, so deeply disturbed by that idea that he visibly cringed. “Jesus, Cas, no . When have I ever been ashamed of you? I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks of us, I just think it’d be easier on our friendship if we kept it quiet and...just let things mull for a while.”

“I see.” Cas swallowed the last bite of his waffle and washed it down with some coffee, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. He balled it up and threw it on top of his plate, gesturing over his shoulder. “So what are your rules against fucking me in the bathroom?”

“R-” Dean swallowed and choked a little, frowning as he cleared his throat. “R-right now? Here?”

Cas frowned back and shrugged again, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

Dean glanced past him at the counter and just past that, the door on the other side of the restaurant for the bathrooms. “Because we’re in a Waffle House in the middle of the day.”

“But it’s practically empty.”

Dean leaned over the table, lowering his voice. “That’s even worse. ”

“Do you want to or not?”

“We…” Dean looked between Cas and the bored cashier, “...shouldn’t.”

“Okay.” Cas looked at him for a long time, then reached across the table to tap his hand gently. “C’mon, then. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Dean allowed himself to be pulled from the booth, throwing down a $20 down on the table, taking Cas’s hand again and threading their fingers together before he had the chance to find something weird about that, too. 

“Wherever we need to go for you to fuck me again,” Cas said, grinning at the cashier- who’d very obviously, based on his red face, heard them- and led Dean to the car.

Dean had planned to race them back to the motel, but Cas amazingly good at teasing while doing absolutely nothing. Just his mere presence next to him had Dean amped up, knowing what was coming once they got back to their room. It didn’t help that Cas always looked so fucking gorgeous, those blue eyes on watching him, that jawline taunting him, those thighs barely contained within the jeans Cas wore. So, really, it wasn’t Dean’s fault that ten minutes into the drive he impulsively veered off the road onto a patch of dirt partially obscured by trees.

“Wha-” Cas started.

“Now. Here,” Dean said, cutting the engine and turning to Cas with a look of determination. 

Cas stared at him. “In your precious car?”

Dean nodded. 

Cas eyed him carefully then slowly grinned, eyes flicking down to Dean’s already noticeable bulge. He licked his lips and hummed, and damned if that wasn’t the sexiest thing Dean had ever seen.

“I already got you hot and bothered, baby?” Cas chuckled lowly, reaching behind the seat for the bag of condoms.

“Yes,” Dean answered honestly, earning a curious look from Cas as he pulled out a rubber. 

“Doing what exactly?”

“Existing?” Dean mumbled and was pleased to see a light blush on Cas’s cheeks.  

“Alright, big boy,” Cas grinned as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “How do you wanna do this?”

Dean glanced around the space of the car then jerked his head over his shoulder. “Backseat. I want…” he swallowed and trailed off, chewing his lip.

“What do you want?” Cas asked softly, blue eyes dark as he slid closer, their thighs brushing together. “It’s okay. Tell me.” He leaned in close, ghosting his lips over Dean’s ear as a hand teased just under Dean’s shirt. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Dean closed his eyes and shuddered, his cock pressing so hard against his zipper he was almost afraid it would snap. 

“R-ride me,” he finally said roughly. “Wanna watch you ride me.”

Cas pulled back to look at him, giving him a reassuring smile. “Okay, then. That I can do, gorgeous.” He trailed a hand up the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him forward, pressing their lips together as he pulled his flannel off his shoulders.

“Go on, then. Get your pants off.”

Dean licked his lips quickly, chasing the flavor of Cas, but slid himself up and over the seats, landing roughly in the backseat. It was only when he felt the twinge in his shoulder that he realized getting out of the car and back in was the better option at his age, but it was too late, anyway. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, shoving them and his boxers down to his knees. He watched Cas in the front seat, tearing into a condom with his teeth, then passing it back to Dean.

“Isn’t this the fun part?” Cas said as Dean worked to roll the condom onto his cock.

“What’s that?”

“You know,” Cas turned to face him, placing his hands on either headrest as he pulled himself into the backseat, “knowing you could be caught at any second.” He shimmied his pants down his thighs, bracing his legs on either side of Dean’s and stroking his cock idly. He reached into the front seat for a bottle of lube, which Dean couldn’t recall him picking up at the store, but then, it seemed he typically came prepared.

“The idea that we could be mid fuck and someone pull up here,” Cas hummed as he pressed lubed fingers against his own rim, his cock twitching in interest. Dean had a hard time deciding which he wanted to watch- Cas’s face as he worked himself open, or his cock. “Dean...it could be the cops.”

Dean reached forward and laid his hands on Cas’s thighs, squeezing gently while he looked up at him. Cas chuckled and cupped Dean’s chin, bending forward to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Alright, don’t touch my cock this time. I’m gonna come on yours.”

Fuck. 

“Okay.” Dean swallowed, his voice rough. “C’mere, then.”

Cas straddled his lap without another word, pausing long enough to pull Dean into a languid, open-mouthed kiss before lining himself up and sinking down with a sigh.

Dean’s hands flew up to Cas’s hips, clenching down hard to hold him steady. “Fuck,” Dean hissed, breaking the kiss and inhaling sharply. “Shit, that’s tight.”

“Thank you,” Cas said smugly. Dean slapped his thigh sharply. “Did you not notice that before?”

“I was too busy processing the fact that I was actually fucking you to notice,” Dean growled, only slightly embarrassed. 

Cas hummed with a small grin and rolled his hips, and Dean choked and arched underneath him, driving himself up just a little deeper. That seemed to hit a spot because Cas gasped and clenched around Dean, drawing a groan from him. 

Cas got busy after that, the smug attitude replaced by an almost desperate need to impale himself on Dean as hard and fast as he could. Dean watched, utterly fascinated, as Cas braced himself with his arms stretched between the passenger headrest and the roof and rose up and down on his thick thighs- Dean finally realized why they were so thick- fucking himself with abandon. It didn’t take long for Dean to get the rhythm, pumping his hips up as Cas came down. 

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” Cas breathed, hands now on Dean’s shoulders, hunched down as small as he could to avoid hitting his head on the top of the car. His head lulled, mouth hanging open, eyes closed, one hand finding its way into the hair on the nape of Dean’s neck and pulling.

Dean thrust up particularly hard once and Cas cried out, squeezing the back of his neck so hard it hurt a little. 

“Yeah, right there, fuck ,” Cas murmured, moaning as he slowed and circled his hips. His cock bobbed between their bodies and Dean had to actively stop himself from reaching out to stroke it, to rub the shiny wetness over the head and watch Cas lose it at his touch. 

Their eyes met and Cas smiled at him through his panting, then leaned over to press their lips together. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's body and pulled him close, and despite the action slowing Cas's movements to a near stop, Dean felt the physical closeness pushing him closer to the metaphorical edge. He slid his hands up to cup Cas’s face, his rhythm all but forgotten, slotting his tongue against Cas’s, stroking soft skin with his thumbs. 

He could spend hours kissing Cas, and it still wouldn’t feel like enough. He was an exceptional kisser, but he tried to rush it enough that Dean knew that he wasn’t used to doing it often, and something about that made him feel a little better. Kissing was, in a way, more intimate than sex, and so Dean liked the idea that Cas maybe didn’t often do it with his orgy partners. But that also made him wonder what kinds of things exactly he did during these orgies. Was he the bottom? The top? Did he switch? A morbid part of him wanted to know.

“C’mon, Dean,” Cas finally said a little irritably as he pulled back, even as a grin played over his lips, “you can’t fuck me like you mean it when you won’t let me move.”

Dean hid his grin by clenching his jaw and dropping his hands back to Cas’s waist, thrusting up hard to hit that spot he seemed to like, over and over. He bit the inside of his cheek as he felt his dick throbbing with his impending orgasm, only pushing closer and closer by the sheen of sweat on Cas’s chest, the way his tight hole clenched around him, the way his flushed cock leaked clear precum on Dean’s abdomen. 

Cas’s mouth hung open, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, brow furrowed. He clawed hurriedly at Dean’s shirt, forcing it up to his chest, holding it up at Dean’s neck as he found his rhythm again, his breathing shaky and erratic. It was all Dean could do to close his eyes and grit his teeth every so often to keep himself from coming at the sight.

“Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, Dean ,” Cas breathed, moaning lowly in his throat. 

Dean looked down just in time to see thick, white ropes of cum spatter onto his stomach, his own cock being milked by Cas’s clenching hole, and between all that and Cas’s blissed-out expression Dean followed closely behind. He groaned as he filled the condom with his own release, pulling Cas back into another kiss.

The kiss was sloppy, messy, both of them trying to catch their breath but unwilling to break apart. Dean gripped Cas’s hair roughly, gaining another broken moan from Cas, and rolled his hips lazily. Cas shuddered, clutching to Dean as he was overstimulated. Dean finally broke away when his lungs absolutely demanded air, both of them panting and pressed so close Cas could see every freckle on Dean’s cheeks.  

“That was…” Dean panted, “fucking perfect.”

Cas licked his kiss-swollen lips and nodded, chest heaving as he dragged in breath after breath. 

“Yes,” he said simply, running his fingers through Dean’s hair and smiling when he leaned into the touch. 

Dean pressed is face into Cas’s chest, nuzzling and sighing, both arms wrapping around Cas’s waist tightly. He wanted to stay like that forever, breathing in Cas’s scent and basking in the knowledge that he was the one who made Cas smell like sweat and sex. 

“You gonna stay inside me all day?” Cas chuckled. 

“Yes,” Dean said, his voice muffled. 

“We might have issues.”

“Stop ruining my cuddle time.” 

Cas laughed softly and kissed the top of Dean’s head. “Fine. Five more minutes then I’m moving.” 

“Deal.” Dean slid his hand up to the back of Cas’s head and pulled him close, turning his head to kiss him on the neck. Cas chuckled and laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, sighing.

“This is nice.”

“Mmm, you don’t do this with your other...sexual partners?” Dean asked, hoping he sounded more nonchalant to Cas than he did to himself.

Cas snorted. “No. Not really. I mean, if somebody needs it, sure. But it’s not something we do just out of enjoyment or anything.”

“Heartless assholes, all of you.”

“Maybe.”

Dean chewed his lip. “You know, if you needed it or anything...you coulda come home and cuddled with me. I would’ve happily cuddled with you.”

“I thought that’s what I did?” Cas asked, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. “When you weren’t angry with me, anyway.”

“I don’t get angry -”

“Save it,” Cas said gently. “I know you don’t like it when I leave. I know you don’t like my friends.”

Dean clenched his jaw. “I don’t like that you don’t think you deserve any better than them.”

Cas was quiet for a moment, then: “That’s not true.”

“Seems that way.”

Cas huffed and pulled back, laying his hands on Dean’s cheeks as he looked him in the eyes. “First of all, the invitation for me to stay there and participate in aftercare is always open, I just never take it because I prefer to come home to you. You take care of me, they don’t. Second, I don’t do this with them because I don’t think I deserve better. I do it because-” he paused, forehead wrinkled in thought. “Well, I guess it’s really just because I like sex, and they’re always willing to facilitate. I dunno.”

“So you’re tellin’ me we could’ve been doing this the entire time we’ve lived together?”

Cas grinned. “You should’ve asked.”

Dean suppressed a smile and instead pushed Cas to the side, effectively slipping out as he caged Cas’s head with his arms and pressed him into the leather seat. 

“Besides,” Cas smiled at him, eyes twinkling, “I had to let you believe the heterosexual rhetoric you’d built up in your head over the years. I really thought you’d finally beat the gay.”

“You really are an asshole.”

“You love my asshole.”

Dean scoffed and prepared to argue, but nothing even remotely sincere came to mind. Cas waited, stretching underneath him, the color finally returning to his face and chest. 

“You know, I bet if you like to be watched, you’d also really enjoy watching…”

Dean glared down at him. “Watching you with them ? Pass.”

“Aw, come on, Dean,” Cas begged, sliding his hands up Dean’s back and down his arms. “Let me show you how good I can be. I’m like, the dreamiest bottom you’ll ever see in your life.”

Dean went to argue but paused, raising a brow. “You sleep with women, too.”

Cas raised a brow. “Your point?”

“You...let them fuck you, too?”

“Never heard of dildos?”

“But there are...guys too. Why not just-”

“Believe it or not, Abi is a dream with a strap-on,” Cas said sincerely. “I mean, it’s nothin’ compared to the real thing, but nice, nonetheless.”

“ Oh, Cas!” Dean whined, shaking his head.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude,” Cas chuckled, pulling him down again for another kiss that left Dean a little too off-kilter for an immediate response.

When Dean was able to collect his thoughts again, he glared down at Cas. “I’m not a prude . Normal people don’t talk about strap-ons and shit.” 

“What a sad little life they must lead.” 

Dean sighed loudly and sat up, gathering their clothes. Cas took his pants wordlessly and zipped up, and Dean pretended not to feel those eyes on him the whole time. Once they were dressed, they both climbed to the front and sat quietly for a moment. 

“You’re still, uh...gonna go do that? With them?” Dean asked after a while, finally starting up the car and pulling back onto the road. 

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

Dean briefly tightened his grip and clenched his jaw.

“No.”

Idiot.

Cas stared. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.”

Coward.

He could still feel Cas’s eyes on him, but he just worked on relaxing his hands on the wheel and unclenching his teeth. Cas eventually looked away, out the window, his hands clasped together in his lap. 

Dean could give him a million reasons why he shouldn’t, why it wasn’t okay anymore, but none of them were good reasons. None of them were reasons that made sense with the way Cas had always lived his life. He’d never known Cas to be monogamous.

Dean was just going to have to accept that and take what he could get, though he knew in the long run this couldn’t last. His feelings were too real and eventually he wouldn’t be able to settle as just another bed partner for Cas.  

“What’s wrong?”

Everything.

“Nothin’.” Dean stared straight ahead, feeling Cas’s eyes on him. “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You’re all broody.”

“I’m always broody.”

“Mmm, no,” Cas said carefully. “You’ve got different levels of broody-ness. I don’t like the one where you don’t talk to me. Like now.”

“I’m fine.”

“If it’s gonna be like this whenever we have sex, maybe we shouldn’t.”

It was the way he said it, flippantly, that had Dean looking over at him, forehead creased with worry. But Cas was looking back at him, and even though he was often hard to read, there was definitely genuine concern there as well. Dean tried not to let it go to his head.

“I, uh…” Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, coughing once. “I don’t want that.”

“I don’t either.”

“Alright, then...I guess we’ll just have to figure out what works for us.”

“Yeah, I like that.” Cas smiled at him and pulled at his arm, until Dean let go of the wheel and took his hand. It was sappy and ridiculous and juvenile and he loved every fucking second of it.

“Oh.”

Dean looked over to see Cas frowning down at their hands. He looked up at Dean and bit his lip.

“This kind of stuff complicates things, doesn’t it?”

Dean shook his head, perhaps a little too quickly. “Not...really. I mean, we kinda did stuff like this before, anyway. If you can separate it, so can I.”

“Good.” 

“Good?”

Cas grinned and looked out the window. “Yeah. You have nice hands. And nice lips and a great cock. I want you to keep fucking me but I also want to be able to do this kind of stuff too. I want to be able to kiss you and cuddle you still, too.”

“Don’t get enough kisses from your friends?” Dean asked a little bitterly. 

“What? No!” Cas said quickly, looking over at him again. “No, we don’t do any of that. You’re the only one I kiss and stuff.” He actually had the nerve to shudder, and Dean frowned.

“Wait, so...you have sex with these people, but you’re disgusted by the thought of kissing them?”

“Yes.”

Dean snorted and shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, Castiel Novak.”

“You sure won’t,” Cas said without a hint of irony, leaning forward to turn up “Bohemian Rhapsody”. “So stop tryin’ and just enjoy the ride. I’ve been told I’m excellent for that.” He winked at Dean slyly, and Dean’s cock twitched with interest, apparently incapable of getting enough when it came to Cas. He wanted to fuck him in every position, on every surface, in every orifice, if not for any reason other than to make him forget about all of the other people who’d been inside him in any capacity. Or rather, to make himself forget.

“Hey,” Cas spoke as they pulled into the motel parking lot. “We should go to Niagara Falls.”

Dean tilted his head as he parked the car. “Little late to do that today.”

“Tomorrow then,” Cas nodded as they got out, bag of condoms dangling in his hand. “We can fully appreciate it now, as adults.”

“Why is that?” Dean asked, opening the door and letting Cas inside before closing it behind them.

“Well, when we were kids it was just a big waterfall,” Cas shrugged, tossing the bag onto the table before he started to strip.

“Um, it’s still just a big waterfall,” Dean snorted, not even hiding the fact that he was watching Cas undress. 

“No, no, no,” Cas shook his head, stepping out of his jeans and kicking them aside. “It’s spiritual , Dean.” He pulled off his shirt and walked into the bathroom, probably intent on a shower to wash all the cum off.

Dean followed him in, slowly undressing as Cas fussed with the faucet. “I mean, it’s pretty awe-inspiring I guess, but spiritual?”

“ Yes ,” Cas said, rolling his eyes towards the heavens as if he were asking whatever spirits he believed in to help him with this ignorant blasphemer. “It’s steeped in Native American lore, all about cosmic balance and the battle between light and dark. It’s more than just pretty water, Dean. There’s magic there. Plus, the water is supposed to be increase your virility . That’s why it’s the honeymoon capital of the world.”

“I don’t think you need an increase in that,” Dean said dryly, stepping under the warm spray beside Cas and pulling the curtain around them. They’d never showered together, but it seemed a natural step for them. Besides, if he’d had a dollar for every Cas had invaded his shower time by sitting on the sink to have deep conversations, then he’d be a rich man.

“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean motioned Cas forward with two fingers, immediately grabbing his arm and pulling him out of the spray. He grabbed a bottle of shampoo and squirted some in Cas’s hand, then some in his own. “Well if you wanna go, then we’ll go.”

“Fantastic.” Cas squeezed his eyes shut as he sudsed up his hair- which Dean found adorable, like something a small child would do to keep from getting soap in their eyes- and Dean massaged his hands through his own hair, unable to take his eyes off Cas.

“You know I was thinking,” Cas said suddenly, stepping back to rinse his hair. “If you think it would help, you really are welcome to come watch me with the guys sometime.”

“And how is that supposed to help?”

Cas rubbed the water out of his eyes and opened them, fixing them on Dean. “Well, maybe you’d get a better understanding of our...arrangement, as opposed to yours and mine. And...I dunno...it’d give you a chance to maybe...see some of the things I like.” He looked down then, blushing slightly.

“Oh, so you don’t like what I do, then?” Dean asked, pressing his lips together to hide his smile. 

Cas’s head snapped up and his eyes went wide. “No, that’s not- of course I do, but-”

“Cas, I’m kidding.”

Cas’s bewildered look morphed into a frown and he shoved a chuckling Dean, almost making him slip and fall. 

“In all seriousness, though, I dunno.”

“Well, the offer’s there,” Cas said, grabbing his body wash and squeezing some into his hands. They carefully switched places so Dean could rinse his hair, and he felt Cas’s gliding over his chest when he tipped his head back.

“So, what do you want to do tonight?”

“The same thing we do every night, Pinky,” Dean said in a dramatic voice. “Try and take over the world!”

“Okay,” Cas nodded. “And after that?”

“Drink and be stupid?”

“Yes, good,” Cas nodded again, then frowned. “Wait, I’m Pinky?”

“Well, I would make you Brain but you hardly ever use yours, so…”

“You’d be surprised how little one needs it,” Cas grinned, running his soapy hands over Dean’s abdomen. 

“Most people don’t have a brain like yours,” Dean watched Cas’s hands, fascinated. “You’re crazy smart, Cas.”

“I know a few things,” Cas shrugged modestly, but Dean took hold of his hands and looked him in the eye.

“Don’t do that,” Dean sighed. “Don’t sell yourself short. I swear, Cas, you’re like a well of untapped knowledge. You constantly pull facts out of your ass. You can talk about anything, history, science, philosophy...you could literally be anything you want.”

Cas tilted his head. “I’m already what I want to be.”

“And what’s that?”

Cas grazed his bottom lip with his teeth, looking away briefly. “Free, I suppose,” he finally said. “I live by my own terms and I like it that way.”

“Yeah, but…” Dean huffed and stepped under the spray to wash off the soap. “Don’t take this the wrong way, okay? But sometimes I think you’re...wasting that big brain of yours. I’m not saying you have to conform to some corporate job, but you should do something with all that intelligence. You could teach or somethin’.

Cas searched Dean’s face for a moment, frowning slightly. “Why do you care so much?”

Dean snorted. “Aside from being your best friend?”

Cas raised a brow.

“I just,” Dean sighed, shrugging. “Don’t wanna see you not reach your potential because you think you don’t have any. Your shithole foster parents thought you wouldn’t amount to anything. Hell, the whole damn school just pegged you as some weirdo. I kinda wish you would realize you’re worth something and prove to the family that didn’t want you how much they fucked up for throwing you away.”

“My life hasn’t turned out so bad,” Cas said slowly, giving him a small smile. “I mean, I get to spend every day with you. And you’re pretty much the only real friend I have.”

“That part definitely wouldn’t need to change,” Dean said honestly, squirting some body wash on his hands and motioning for him to turn. He ran his hands over Cas’s shoulders and down his back. “Look, I love the person you are, you know that. And if you don’t want anything else, that’s up to you. I’m just sayin’, you’re fuckin’ brilliant and you should let people see that.”

“I’ve said it before, but I don’t deserve you being so nice to me all the time.”

“Damn right, you don’t,” Dean snorted, taking a step toward Cas as he slid his hands over his ass. “But that’s okay. You’re a pretty awesome roommate.”

Cas chuckled and obliged when Dean gently turned him, running his soapy hands over his abdomen and up to his chest, over the cute little mole he had above his right nipple. 

“Because of the free blowjobs?”

“You also make really good waffles. And my coffee sucks compared to yours.”

Cas grinned and clicked his tongue. “It’s an art.”

Dean smirked and grabbed Cas’s arms, pulling him back into the spray to rinse himself. Cas cut off the water as Dean pulled open the curtain, handing Cas a towel before taking the other for himself.

“So you never really answered my question.”

Dean raised a brow as he dried his face. “Hmm?”

“What are we doing tonight?”

“Besides drink and be stupid?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Dunno.”

“Okay…” Cas toweled off his hair and wrapped the towel around his waist as he stepped out of the tub. “What about a game?”

“What kinda game?”

Cas hummed to himself as he leaned over the counter to prod at the dark circles under his eyes. “Maybe...truth or dare?”

“What are we, 12-year-old girls?”

“12-year-old girls who will also be drinking,” Cas pointed out.

“Need some night cream for that, grandma?” Dean smirked and chuckled when Cas weakly slapped him on the shoulder.

“Some of us actually age,” Cas grumbled, turning away from the mirror. “No need to poke fun at us mere mortals.”

“Maybe if you actually stopped spending all night at an orgy and, I dunno, slept ,” Dean said as he walked into the room, only slipping on a pair of boxers before hopping into bed. 

“I sleep plenty,” Cas argued, searching the room for their stash of booze. He grabbed a few bottles of the whiskey Dean liked so much and crawled into bed next to him, not bothering with clothes.

“Ten hours every other day is not ‘plenty’,” Dean grumbled, snagging a bottle. “You should be sleeping every night, preferably next to me. So I can get my cuddles.”

“Ah,” Cas smirked. “So this little argument is for purely selfish reasons and not, in fact, for my well-being.”

“Right,” Dean nodded, taking off the top. “Your well-being is just a bonus.”

“How generous of you.”

“You know,” Dean stared at the bottle with a slight frown. “I’m not sure Truth or Dare would be very fun.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we already know everything about each other as far truth goes,” Dean shrugged, ignoring the fact that Cas didn’t know how insanely in love he was with him. “And for dare...well, you’d do anything. Kinda takes away from the spirit of the Dare.”

“Alright,” Cas smiled and leaned back on his hands. “Never Have I Ever, then.”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Well we already know who’s gonna lose that one. You’ve literally done everything.”

“Not necessarily,” Cas raised a brow. “And this would be a good way for both of us to gauge experience...good way for me to see what wonderful things I need to show you, the innocent lamb that you are.”

“Fine.” Dean tipped up the bottle and took a long swig. “You go first.”

“Okay.” Cas bounced a little in his seat, clasping his hands in his lap as he furrowed his brow in thought. “Never have I ever...had sex on the hood of a car.”

Dean looked sadly down at his bottle.

Cas gasped softly. “No? Not even on Baby?”

“ Especially not on Baby. I would’ve remembered.”

“Mmm. I’ll need to remember that, then.” Cas took the bottle from Dean and took a sip, then handed it back. “Okay, your turn.”

“Never have I ever sucked a dick.”

Cas glared at him before rolling his eyes and jerking the bottle from his hand. “Just because the object is to win doesn’t mean you don’t need to try a little harder to be more creative.”

“Well, it’s not my fault you’re a bit of a slut,” Dean grinned, winking.
“I prefer the term ‘sexually and spiritually adventurous’,” Cas said, flinching at the burn of the whiskey before passing the bottle back to Dean. “Fine, you wanna play dirty? I can play dirty.” He gave Dean a hard look, tilting his head with a frown. “Never have I ever had a sex dream about my brother’s wife.”

Dean gasped and sputtered. “Hey, you...you don’t even have a brother, that’s not fair!”

“It’s as fair as you choosing the blowjob route knowing full damn well you’ve never done it!” He pointed at Dean. “Drink.”

Dean grumbled as he raised the bottle to his lips. 

“Okay. Alright. Never have I ever… regretted a sexual experience.”

Cas huffed a laugh and took the bottle, downing a big gulp before passing it back to Dean. Dean watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with it, licking his lips before taking a sip of his own.

“So who was it?”

“Uh uh,” Cas shook his head, “you don’t get to ask questions. That’s not how the game works.” Dean chuckled as Cas looked at him and hummed. 

“Never have I ever...been in love.”

Dean stared at him a beat before taking a sip, raising his brows slightly when Cas took the bottle himself, taking his own sip.

“I think we’re both losing,” Dean chuckled again, taking the bottle. “Uh...never have I ever...had sex with someone I’m in love with.”

Cas took the bottle before Dean had the chance to take his own sip, raising a brow as he did, as if daring Dean to ask him about it. Dean didn’t, though, instead taking the bottle when Cas was done and turning it up.

Cas gestured messily at him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to ‘never have I ever’ things that you’ve actually done. That defeats the purpose.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to find out the things I want to know,” Dean grinned. “And you’ve never told me that you’ve been in love before.”

“Neither have you.”

“Yeah, well.” Dean cleared his throat and gestured to Cas. “Your go.”

“Never have I ever been caught jacking off by my roommate while wearing a pair of pink lacy womens’ panties.”

Dean deadpanned. “Well that’s oddly specific.”

Cas tried his best to suppress a grin. “I’m just morbidly curious. Because you swore that’s not what I saw, but you can’t lie in the game, so...”

Dean glared at him but finally raised the bottle to his lips. “Asshole.”

“I knew it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean rolled his eyes, the bottle sloshing as he lowered it from his lips. “I like panties. Cat’s out.”

“No judgement here,” Cas said sincerely, raising his hands with a small grin. “And that’s something I can definitely work with.”

“Moving on,” Dean growled, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Never have I ever had sex on the kitchen counter.”

“That’s a low blow,” Cas muttered, taking a swig. 

“You left sweaty ass prints on the counter,” Dean scowled at him. “Do you know how long it took me to walk into that kitchen after that and not shudder in disgust?”

“Just because you’re not adventurous with your sex life doesn’t mean we all have to be boring,” Cas waved a hand at him. “And I cleaned up afterwards. Quit bitching about it.”

“Quit fucking in our shared space.”

Cas chuckled and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Never have I ever...sent a dirty text to the wrong person.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Dean huffed, taking another sip and blinking a few times as his vision blurred. “One damn time I did that.”

“Yeah, but it was to your own brother,” Cas giggled. “Jesus, I wish I could have seen his face when he read that. Comedy gold right there.”

“Shuddup,” Dean mumbled.

“Really, what got me the most was that you sent a dirty text,” Cas went on, his grin widening. “Mister straight lace, tender fuck sending a dirty text...I just can’t picture it.”

“I know how to be dirty, dammit,” Dean pushed on his shoulder. “But not everything has to be dirty. Sometimes romantic is nice, too.”

“Sometimes I forget what a hopeless romantic you truly are,” Cas said with a smile, shaking his head.

“Alright, enough.” Dean waved a hand, tilting the bottle toward Cas. “Never have I ever …”

“C’mon, man, give me a break. Have a little mercy.”

“Fine, fine...never have I ever sucked my own dick.”

Cas’s eyebrow ticked upwards and his hand twitched, then he narrowed his eyes and jerked the bottle out of Dean’s hand, tilting it back. Dean didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or be extremely, extremely turned on.

“Wait a fucking minute, what?!”

“Shut up, Dean.”

“No, I just mean, I thought, fuck, that’s humanly impossible, isn’t it? Like how would that even- how would you-”

“I’m extremely flexible, okay?” Cas held his arms out by his sides, then thrust the bottle back into Dean’s hand. “You know that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t know-”

“It’s not like I made a hobby of it, Dean. I did it to see if I could. And I can. And now I’m going to go throw up because you’re giving me alcohol poisoning.” Cas moved to get up off the bed, but Dean grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, I’m sorry, I-” Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Dude, it’s just...not something you expect, okay? I’m cool with it. It’s kinda...weirdly hot.”

“ Ugh ,” Cas groaned, pulling his hand away. “I hate you.”

“So you gonna...show me one day? Or-”

Cas threw a pillow at his face and Dean flopped back onto the bed laughing. He propped his head up on his arm and watched with slightly blurred vision as Cas stumbled into the bathroom. He ran the water and splashed some on his face, scrubbing vigorously, then walked back out and fell onto the bed.

“Wanna keep playing?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“Fuck you.”

“Only if you use lube.”

Cas scoffed and crawled over to Dean, trapping his head with his arms and hovering over him. Dean smiled up at him, smelling his whiskey breath and kinda loving the feel of the guy pressing down on him.

“Who were you in love with?” Cas asked suddenly.

“Mm, nuh uh,” Dean shook his head. “I never picked Truth.”

“We aren’t playing Truth or Dare.”

“Well, whatever,” Dean shrugged. “I ain’t tellin’. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

Cas frowned. “Why not?”

“They don’t love me,” Dean murmured, threading his fingers through Cas’s hair. “Not the way I do.”

“Do?” Cas asked quietly. “As in present?”

“Always.”

Cas stared at him for a moment then ticked an eyebrow. “Are you answering the question or are you quoting Harry Potter ?”

“Oh, man, I should really rewatch those,” Dean sighed, closing his eyes. “Jesus, I miss Alan Rickman. Turn to page 394 ,” he said in a horrible British accent.

“Maybe we can have a marathon when we get home,” Cas suggested.

“Yeah,” Dean smiled up at him. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Cas moved to Dean’s side, laying his head on his arm. “Fair warning, I’ll be packaging for sale next week probably. So bagging, baking, infusing...all that.”

“So I can expect my house to smell like pot for a week?” Dean grumbled, lolling his head to the side to glare at him.

“I’ll ask Missouri for some of that wax you like the smell of,” Cas promised. “I’ll put it in all the warmers in the house.”

“Like that’ll help,” Dean snorted. “It’s not so bad until you start baking with it, then everything smells like weed and chocolate for days. Makes me hungry and horny.”

Cas hummed. “Well, that bodes well for me.”

Dean grinned up at the ceiling, tightening his arm around Cas’s neck.

“You have to promise to try the infused honey, though,” Cas said, poking his side. “It’s my first time making it and I’m nervous and I’m expecting you to give me your honest opinion before I sell it to a whole bunch of people.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” Cas sunk further into his position, throwing both an arm and a leg over Dean’s body. “I’m drunk. We should sleep now so we can go to Niagara Falls in the morning and get back early enough for you to fuck me all night before we have to go back home.”

Dean made a point not to talk anymore after that.

Chapter Text

“Guess what Niagara means.”

“Uh…” Dean wasn’t really paying attention as he drove, focused on his phone to make sure he got them there with little to no issue. “I dunno. Big water.”

“It comes from the word ‘onguiaahra’, which means ‘a thundering noise’,” Cas said proudly, smiling over at him. 

“Ah.”

“Did you know they’ve found over 5,000 bodies since the mid 1800s of people who died at Niagara Falls?” Cas asked, and of fucking course it’s a fact he would find interesting about the place. “Around 40 people die on the Falls every year. Most of them are suicides.” Cas frowned down at his phone. “That’s sad.”

“Dude, this is supposed to be a fun trip. You’re bumming me out.”

“Sorry.”

Dean made a noncommittal noise. “How’s your head?”

“Slightly less poundy,” Cas said, not looking up from his phone. 

“I’ll fix that tonight.”

Cas looked up this time and frowned in confusion. 

“You know, with the headboard,” Dean smirked. 

Cas blinked then slowly started laughing, his face scrunched up adorably. “ Wow,” he grinned. “That was so weird coming from you. Good, mind you, but weird.” 

Dean chuckled and checked his phone briefly. “Got about 45 minutes until we’re there,” he said, glancing at Cas. “Need to stop to pee? Cuz I don’t think they’ll let you piss off the side of the boat.”

“I would never defile such sacred waters with my urine,” Cas said seriously. “So let’s stop. Also, I want some Doritos.” 

Dean rolled his eyes and stopped at the next gas station, getting Cas his chips and a piece of pie for himself. He paused when he saw a small bottle of edible body paint next to the lube and chewed his lip, grabbing that quickly as well before paying. 

He stashed it in the bag before Cas could see and handed him his chips when he returned to the car. 

“Mmm, artificial cheese,” Cas hummed, tearing it open. 

“Says the guy who insists on only natural honey,” Dean scoffed as pulled back onto the road. 

“That’s because my bee buddies make the best, and I would never insult them by eating fake honey.” Cas crunched down on a chip. 

Dean clicked his tongue. “Fair enough.”

The way Cas’s face lit up when they arrived at the Falls made the entire trip worth it. He immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, practically tripping over himself to get out of the car and look around. He grinned widely at nothing in particular, his eyes wrinkling in the corners and nose scrunching adorably with his gummy smile. 

Dean watched him over the top of the car, spinning his keys on a finger. He hadn’t realized he was grinning stupidly at Cas’s face until the man turned and looked back at him, and he immediately tried to play it off, smile fading and eyebrows raising.

“What do you think?”

“I think…” Cas turned to him, face carefully neutral, “that you’re getting the orgasm of your life tonight.”

Dean coughed and looked down instead of giving Cas the satisfaction of his blush. “Oh, yeah? Just for taking you to a popular tourist destination? Shit. Had I known that, I woulda done this a long time ago.”

“No, no, for...everything,” Cas corrected. He drummed his fingers on the top of the Impala until Dean threw him a look, and he huffed a laugh and dropped his hand by his side. “You continue to be more than I deserve, Dean Winchester.”

“You’re damn right, I am,” Dean joked, but Cas gave him a wistful smile and stepped back to close his door. Dean did the same, locking her up, then rounded the car to follow Cas to the gate. He didn’t think twice before taking his hand, not even when he felt Cas’s eyes on him. It felt right and he wasn’t going to psych himself out of it. Just two friends holding hands at Niagara Falls. No big deal.

After a moment, Cas slowly adjusted their hands so he could thread their fingers together. The difference between platonic and romantic. Dean swallowed.

“Are you excited for the tour, honey?” Cas asked loudly, and Dean frowned over at him for a brief second before he saw the couple beside them giving them an odd look. 

“More excited to get you home later,” Dean said suggestively, pulling Cas close to press a kiss to his temple. 

“You’re such a tease!” Cas exclaimed, giving him a small shove. He looked over at the couple, shaking his head with a wide smile. “He’s such a tease. Can’t keep his hands off me.” He gestured between the two of them. “You here on vacation?”

“Honeymoon,” the woman said reluctantly, nervously brushing her long curly hair out of her face.

“Lucky you!” Cas said brightly. “He wouldn’t even let me out of the hotel for the honeymoon-”

He giggled dramatically as the couple veered away from them, quickly putting distance between them. Dean shook his head as Cas’s smile faded into his usual deadpan look.

“Why do you always have to mess with people like that?”

“Because it’s fun,” Cas shrugged, glaring at the couple. “And because they’re judgemental, homophobic pricks. If they weren’t, it wouldn’t bother them, now would it?”

“Maybe they just don’t like PDA.”

“Then I still don’t like them.”

Dean laughed quietly and raised a brow. “Why not?”

“Because,” Cas clicked his tongue as they got behind the long line waiting to get on one of the boats. “If you can keep your hands off the one you supposedly love at all times, then you either don’t really love them or you put what other people think over them on your priorities.” 

“Groping doesn’t mean love,” Dean pointed out. 

“True,” Cas tilted his head. “But if you love someone, like really , then how could you possibly go all day without some sort of physical affection? Holding hands, kissing...if those urges aren’t there, I’m not sure that’s the kind of relationship I’d want.”

“Assuming you would even want an actual relationship,” Dean snorted. 

“I can’t go a whole day without touching you ,” Cas murmured, glancing at Dean. 

Dean thought for a moment then huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, I can’t think of a time you went 24 hours without somethin’.”

“You’re just so nice to touch.” 

“Even my pie pooch?” Dean looked down and poked at his belly. 

“ Especially the pooch,” Cas grinned, planting a big kiss on it and causing Dean to blush furiously, swatting at his head.  

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean hissed, glancing around nervously. 

“I can’t help it,” Cas blinked innocently. “It’s so cute .”

“You drive me nuts.”

“You love me.”

And if wasn’t as if Dean could argue, so he made a noncommittal noise and stepped up to buy their tickets. He handed Cas a poncho and grabbed himself one, and they pulled them over their heads as they waited for the next boat.

“You look like a condom,” Cas grinned, nudging him.

“So do you,” Dean shot back.

There was another good ten minute wait to load a boat, and a few more minutes for the idling engine to putter to a decent start. They stood at the side of the boat, alongside other tourists, clinging to the side as the boat jostled over the water. It was cold and Dean was suddenly regretting not packing them warmer jackets, especially when he noticed Cas shivering. He looked happy though, grinning widely for no particular reason. When Cas was doing something he wanted to do, something he enjoyed, nothing could deter him. His goddamn teeth were chattering and he looked utterly gleeful.

“C’mere.” 

Cas barely glanced over at the sound of Dean’s voice before he was pulled into his arms. He was stiff at first when Dean wrapped his arms around his waist, hesitantly resting his chin on Cas’s shoulder, but he loosened up marginally as they stood there. 

“Better?” Dean asked finally, when they’d made it about halfway to the falls.

“Mmm,” Cas hummed lowly, letting his head fall back. “You’ll make someone a half-decent, passable boyfriend one day.”

“You’re too kind.”

“But don’t date just yet,” Cas said suddenly, then cleared his throat and shrugged. “I’m not done with you yet and I don’t want your attention divided.” 

“You’re just using me then,” Dean mock pouted. 

“Yeah, But I’m like really nice about it.” 

Dean chuckled and pressed their cheeks together, thinking it felt way too right to have Cas in his arms. The closer they got to the falls the more excited Cas became, so much so that aside from keeping him warm Dean’s hold was serving to keep the guy from launching himself over the railing just to get to the falls faster. 

The mist was so thick that Dean had a hard time keeping his eyes open, and they hadn’t even reached the falls yet. Cas didn’t seem to care, opening his mouth in a wide grin to catch as much as he could on his tongue. 

“Like you need to feed your libido anymore,” Dean snorted, recalling their earlier conversation. 

“I’m just fueling up for tonight,” Cas said gleefully. “I’m gonna show you a damn good time, Winchester.” 

Dean was absolutely not going to get hard with his dick pressed directly up against Cas’s ass. Cas’s perfect, tight ass-

Dean cleared his throat loudly. “Yeah? Maybe it’s me that’ll show you a good time.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Cas said easily.

The boat finally stopped, still a good distance from the actual falls, but giving them more than enough of the breathtaking view. It was deafeningly loud; loud enough that they had to shout to hear one another, but it was beautiful, the heavy mist creating rainbows throughout the falls. Dean unintentionally hugged Cas tighter around his waist, very aware of Cas’s hands resting on his arms. As beautiful as the view was, Dean desperately wanted to get Cas back to the hotel, to strip him bare and worship his body in the way he’d always dreamed he could. But no, he couldn’t do that. Acting out the dreams he had would only serve to show Cas how hopelessly and irrevocably in love with him he was.

“I feel like a kid again,” Cas said, just barely loud enough for Dean to hear. 

Dean frowned. “Why?”

“I feel small, for one,” Castiel said, turning to face him. “I feel...excited, and anxious, and... unsure. And being here with you, I dunno. Feels like when we were kids.”

“I wouldn’t think that would be such a good thing for you,” Dean said into his ear, squeezing Cas’s middle. “Figured you hated your childhood.”

“Not the part with you in it,” Castiel shrugged, sticking his hand out to catch some of the bigger splashes of water as the boat slowly made its way through the loud roar. “I always felt safe with you. Happy. That’s the only part of my childhood I care about.”

Dean swallowed and was glad Cas couldn’t see his face, as he was sure it betrayed how much that meant to him. The words ‘I love you’ almost came out, but Dean clamped his mouth shut and just hugged Cas tighter. 

The moment thankfully passed quickly and Cas was once again caught up in the pure joy of becoming soaked from the falls, despite their ‘condom’ coverings. He laughed and spread his arms out wide, catching every drop he could, and Dean could only watch with a small smile. Suddenly Cas turned and grabbed Dean’s face, pressing their lips together hard and damn near kissing the life out of Dean. 

“Now you can say you’ve been kissed at the Falls,” Cas said with a grin when he pulled away, wiping some water off Dean’s face. 

“Truly magical,” Dean deadpanned, though he couldn’t help his answering grin. 

“Don’t be facetious,” Cas grumbled, shoving gently at him before turning back around. Dean quickly grabbed his elbow and spun him back toward him, his hands on Cas’s cheeks as he pressed him against the side of the boat and locked their lips together again.

The feel of this kiss was different, slow and purposeful and probably way more telling of Dean’s feelings than he felt comfortable with, but for some reason he didn’t care. He didn’t care that he was soaked despite his poncho, didn’t care that the boat was jostling them unromantically into one another, didn’t care that there were people all around them. No, he kissed Cas like it was just the two of them, the way he would before laying him down on his bed and taking him apart. 

Cas’s hands drifted to Dean’s hips, the touch light and apprehensive, which Dean vaguely registered was very unlike Cas . Cas wasn’t unsure about anything, didn’t give second thought but definitely didn’t do regret. He was the most confident person Dean had ever met, often to a fault, and yet here he was, shy and hesitant while his best friend kissed him. Because Dean knew that’s all this was, anyway...it was normal them, normal vacation them, although Dean might have now raised the bar for their normal.

Cas’s grip tightened on Dean’s waist, fisted into the poncho and ultimately his shirt, pulling their pelvises flush against one another. He kissed Dean back then, really kissed him, slotting their tongues together with slow drags, like he was tasting him, savoring him. 

They were both a little breathless when Dean pulled away this time, and he could feel Cas’s gaze on him, so he lowered his head to bump their foreheads together. 

“‘M not,” he finally said.

He could feel Cas’s forehead wrinkle under his own. “Not what?”

“Bein’ facetious,” Dean clarified, licking his lips quickly. 

“I hate to break it to you, Dean, but I think you might just be a bit of a sap,” Cas said, without the usual bite to his voice. 

“I’m okay with that,” Dean smiled, brushing away some wet hair from Cas’s forehead.

“You make me sick,” Cas said in a flat voice.

“Aww, baby, I love you too.”

Cas laughed and shoved him again, turning back around to observe the rest of the falls. The boat chugged slowly and eventually they were turning back towards the dock, the roar gradually receding until Dean didn’t feel like it was right in his ear anymore.

“Well,” Dean said, pulling back the hood of his poncho. He was soaked anyway. Damn thing didn’t do any good. “Was it as spiritual as you thought?”

“Immensely,” Cas nodded seriously and Dean knew him well enough that he wasn’t joking. “I didn’t realize I needed this so much. Thank you, Dean.”

Dean shrugged modestly. “You’re welcome…”

The boat finally docked and they discarded their ponchos. Once again on dry land, Cas shook the water from his hair and Dean grimaced when drops splattered on his face.

“Are you a fucking dog?”

Cas’s response was a loud bark. 

“I’m just gonna pretend I don’t know you.”

“That may be hard to pull off, considering everyone just saw you kissing me,” Cas chuckled, linking their arms together and tugging Dean down the sidewalk.

“That could have been anyone.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’m hungry. I demand you take me to the Rainforest Cafe.”

“Since when can you start making demands?”

“Since I decide whether you deserve access to my ass or not.”

Dean blinked and glanced around. “So where is this place?”

He’s not sure what exactly he expected when Cas said ‘Rainforest Cafe’, but it’s definitely way more on brand than he expects, featuring a dining area that looked like it was plopped right in the middle of the Amazon...albeit much dryer, he imagines, which is ironic considering they’re both still damp from the boat ride. As if the giant volcano outside that proudly displayed the restaurant’s name wasn’t enough, there was a large starscape on the ceiling in the center of the room, surrounded by “trees” and vines tangled around it. There are a couple of large fish tanks seamlessly added to the decor, filled with tropical-looking fish, and numerous animatronic animals strategically placed throughout the faux rainforest flora. 

Dean stopped and stared.

“Cas, how the fuck did you even hear about this place? What the- seriously dude, what the fuck?”

“Saw it online and thought it looked fun,” Cas shrugged, holding up two fingers and nodding to the hostess. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s fucking creepy.”

“It’s offbeat.”

“It’s ridiculous, is what it is-”

“I prefer eccentric.”

“Call it what you want, but these things are creepier than your fucking dolls.” Dean stared down a large snake coiled around one of the tree branches.

“Swanhilda would be very offended to hear you talk about her that way.”

Cas pointedly smiled down at his phone while Dean glared at him, thumbs flying across the screen. Dean waited him out, the glare only holding slightly less heat when Cas pocketed his phone and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, give it a chance! You’re gonna love it.”

Dean grumbled to himself and allowed Cas to pull him towards their table. The waiter gave them each a menu and took their drink order, then left to allow them a minute to look it over. Dean frowned at the animatronic gorilla not two feet from him who occasionally grunted and turned its head. 

“He’s staring at me.”

“He likes you,” Cas grinned. “Can’t say I blame him. I have a hard time not staring at you.” 

“Shuddup,” Dean mumbled, his ears burning. He opened up his menu and decided pretty quickly on the ribs, steak, and shrimp trio. Cas ordered the Taste of the Islands and Dean made a face. 

“Scallops?” He frowned. 

“And shrimp and tilapia.” 

“ Scallops .” 

“They’re good,” Cas shrugged. “You can try some of mine.” 

“Ugh, no .”

“You have to try new things, Dean.” 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I?”

Cas grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’m hardly new.”

“The fucking is new.” 

“Not so,” Cas shook his head. “Sex has literally been around since the beginning-“ 

“ Fucking you is new.” 

“Fair point.” Cas closed his menu and sat it down on the table, leaning forward with a twinkle in his eye. “But sex is sex, Dean, and I can assure you that fucking me is not tremendously different from fucking anyone else.”

Dean desperately wanted to argue that point- because as a matter of fact it was tremendously different, being that he was fucking stupidly in love with the guy- but he pressed his lips together, eyes flitting briefly back down to his menu.

“ Not fucking, now that...that would be a ‘new thing’.”

“Yeah, maybe for you.”

“Like you haven’t had your fair share.”

“You remember the last time?” Dean raised a brow at him, laying his menu to the side. Before Cas could answer the waiter returned with their drinks, and they both put in their order. The waiter was a slight boy, probably early twenties, and kind of cute (not that Dean noticed) and he smiled at them both as he jotted their order down and slapped his book closed before walking away.

“With Jo?” Cas snorted dryly. “How could I forget?”

“I think she still hates me.”

“You tried to surprise her with anal. You can’t just spring anal on an unsuspecting person, Dean.”

“You-” the word left Dean’s mouth a little loudly and a few heads turned to look at him. He blushed hard and ducked his head, looking up at Cas and lowering his voice. “ You didn’t have any complaints.”

“Listen, I’d love the ability to choose between being fucked in my pussy or my ass, but I don’t really have that option, now do I?” Cas shot back, raising a brow. “There’s no question when it comes to me having sex, either. When I do it, I know exactly where your dick’s goin’. All I’m sayin’ is, you should’ve asked her first.”

“It was the heat of the moment.”

“You were wrong.”

Dean sighed, drumming his fingers on the table. “I suppose I should apologize again. With meaning, this time.”

“Yes, you should.”

“Anyway,” Dean said dramatically, “that was the last time, for me. With someone, I mean.”

“So you’re hinting that you’d like me to stock your porn collection for your birthday this year?” Castiel suppressed a grin, mouth quirking slightly in the corner.

Dean sighed deeply. “I cannot talk to you.” 

Cas giggled and made a ball out of the paper from his straw, throwing it at Dean and hitting him on the nose. Dean grunted and rubbed at it, then frowned thoughtfully. 

“So, wait, do you want a...a, uh-“

“Pussy?”

“Jesus, can you not call it that?”

“Why not?”

“I dunno!” Dean shrugged, looking around. “Isn’t it offensive?”

“I mean, it’s mine so...I feel like I can call it whatever I want.”

“You don’t have -“

“Theoretically,” Cas waved his hand. “And, you know, I’m just curious as to what it feels like.”

“It just seems like it hurts.” 

“Nah, not if you do it right,” Cas leaned back in his chair. “Anal can hurt, but with enough lube then it’s pretty damn good. I imagine it’s the same for girls.” 

“This is a weird conversation to have over lunch.”

“You brought it up.” 

Dean sighed and clasped his hands together on top of the table, glaring over at Cas, who looked frustratingly smug. “So. One more day of our trip… what did you have in mind?”

Castiel hummed, crossing his arms over his chest and wrinkling his brow. “I was thinking we could eat, then I could catch a buzz on the way back to the hotel-”

“Not happening in my car.”

“Fine! So I’ll catch a buzz at the hotel, then...well, I mean, obviously we’ll have mind-blowing sex, then...maybe we could just head home?”

Dean raised a brow. “Really?”

Cas shrugged. “Yeah. I did what I came for and...well, to be honest, this trip has been perfect. And I don’t see how we can make it any more perfect- aside from upcoming plans tonight- so I think it’s best to just...let it be. Don’t you?”

Dean stared at him, his lips forming a small ‘o’. “You sayin’ you’d rather not tempt fate?”

Cas quirked a smile. “Something like that.”

“Ah.”

“Plus I miss home,” Cas said softly, rubbing his arm absently. “Plus rent is coming due and I have a lot of work to do.”

Dean rubbed at his chin and nodded, hand dropping to the table. “Yeah, okay. We’ll leave tomorrow morning then.” 

“I can drive part of it.”

“I love you, Cas, but fuck no to that.” 

Cas chuckled and drummed his fingers on the table as he looked around. Dean glanced around as well, noting the giant snake hanging above his head and the elephants just behind them. He wasn’t surprised Cas would like a place like this. It was weird and over the top, and that was basically the definition of his friend. He hoped at least the food was good. He was certainly paying enough for it. 

Dean suddenly turned his head when he felt a foot poking his shin. “Hm?” 

“I want something from the shop.” 

Dean scoffed, but nodded with slight resignment. “Fine, but nothing over $20.” 

Cas grinned and made to jump up from his chair, but Dean glared and pointed down. “Nuh uh, sit down. Food first. Then you can go look.” 

“Dean,” Cas whined, eyeing the colorful shop with hungry eyes. 

“Food. First.” 

Cas huffed and sat back down, pouting slightly. Dean ignored the man child and made a mental note to never being Cas to one of these places again.

They spent close to two hours in the restaurant, between ordering and waiting for their food and eating, then Cas spent close to a half hour trying to decide what he wanted from the gift shop before deciding on a replica of an angry-looking African mask. It creeped Dean out, if he was being honest, and he didn’t look forward to the damn thing staring at him from a space on Cas’s wall all the time, but he wouldn’t dare tell Cas any of that.

However, the look on Cas’s face as he stared lovingly down at the damn thing all the way back to the hotel was enough to get Dean over his temporary displeasure. 

Cas carefully laid the mask in his bag then toed off his shoes, collapsing back onto the bed. He let out a long, loud, unattractive groan, stretching his arms out and over his head. His shirt rode up a little and Dean pointedly looked away from his tantalizing happy trail, because he kind of really wanted to lick it, and it was tempting enough that he was afraid he might. 

Cas twisted his body to reach up to the nightstand, pulling an already-rolled joint out of the drawer and placing it between his lips. He lit it and tossed the lighter to the side as Dean toed off his boots and sat up against the headboard, checking a text message from Sam that turned out to be another picture of Finley, grinning widely in the Batman pajamas that Dean had bought her for her birthday. She was also sporting the much too large sock monkey hat that Cas had given her.

“C’mere,” Dean grunted, nudging Cas’s side with his foot.

Cas rolled to his belly with the joint between his lips and crawled up to Dean, hooking his chin on Dean’s forearm as he looked at the picture. He pulled the joint from between his lips and inhaled sharply, gesturing to the phone with his joint hand.

“Looks more like Sam every day.”

“Yeah she does,” Dean said fondly, not realizing he was grinning dopily at his phone until Cas poked at his lips. 

“You’re such a sucker.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Cas chuckled and got to his knees, batting Dean’s hands out of the way so he could easily straddle his lap. He took another long hit from the joint and slid a hand up into Dean’s hair, fisting the longer part on top and using it to pull his head back. He leaned in close and shotgunned the hit to him, lips brushing briefly.

While Dean held the hit in, Cas leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it over the side of the bed. He took one of Dean’s hands and pressed a kiss to the palm.

“Touch me.”

“I, um-” Dean’s eyes widened marginally, “touch-”

“Don’t care how,” Cas said with a shake of his head, “just need to feel you.”

Dean slowly licked his lips and hesitated for only a brief moment before he slid his hands up Cas’s sides. It was leisurely, deliberate in movement, as Dean allowed himself to touch Cas in the way he’s always wanted to. With gentle fingers, he felt every dip and curve, every muscle adorning Cas’s torso. He brushed over the dark nipples, pausing at the one with the cute freckle, then continued down to trace the happy trail. His hands spread then to trace over the perfectly sharp hip bones, something Dean had been wanting to touch, kiss, and nibble for years.

Cas pressed the joint to Dean’s lips, and Dean opened up to take a small hit. He blew the smoke out and glanced up at Cas, almost afraid to see if touches were too gentle and inadvertently giving away his emotions. Cas’s expression was damn near unreadable, though, half hidden behind a haze of smoke.

“I got us something,” Dean said suddenly.

“Oh?”

Dean tilted his head towards the nightstand. “In that bag there.”

Cas raised a brow and reached across into the plastic bag, pulling out a bottle of chocolate body paint. Cas quirked a smile and looked back at Dean.

“When did you get this?”

“At the gas station on the way to the Falls.”

“Sneaky…” Cas hummed, turning it over in his hand. “Alright, baby, you wanna use this on me?”

Dean nodded a bit shyly, his fingers twitching on Cas’s hips.

“Hold this then.”

Cas handed Dean the joint and moved off his lap. He stood and quickly himself of his jeans, pulling them down-

“What the fuck is that.”

Cas followed Dean’s gaze and smirked. “My boxers.”

Dean glared at the big red words that read ‘Choking Hazard’ across the crotch. “The one time you actually wear boxers and you pick those.”

“I found them whimsical,” Cas shrugged, toying with the waistband. “And anyway, it’s just good sense to have a written warning. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Uh,” was Dean's eloquent reply. 

Cas smiled and slowly pulled the boxers off, and Dean didn’t even bother trying not to stare. It wasn’t like it was a new thing for them, after all. Okay, so maybe the sex thing was, but even though Dean had seen Cas’s dick tons of times, actually allowing himself to look at it wasn’t something he’d often done. He didn’t realize Cas was watching him until he’d finally stepped out of the boxers and just stood there, his arms hanging at his sides.

“How do you want me?” he asked finally, when Dean realized he’d caught him staring. 

“How-” Dean rasped, his throat dry. He swallowed hard. “How do I-?”

“The paint,” Cas said simply, not even a hint of humor in his tone. “You want me on my front or back?”

“That, uh...back,” Dean said, ears burning, and he shifted to the side, patting the bed. “Here, on your back.”

Cas gave him a genuine smile before crawling back onto the bed, watching Dean the entire time he settled into place. He propped his head up with a pillow, clasping his hands together over his stomach.

Dean fiddled with the bottle for a moment, blatantly eyeballing the feast of flesh before him, lingering on that thick cock before he tore his eyes away. He wet his lips and moved to straddle Cas, popping the lid on the chocolate paint. 

“I...I’ve never really done this,” Dean admitted, pouring some onto his fingers. “Not much of a painter either, like you.”

“You’re not setting out to make a masterpiece,” Cas shrugged, smiling encouragingly. “And whatever you make will be beautiful anyway. Expression of one’s self is always a work of art.”

Dean quirked a smile and started on Cas’s chest, painting swirls around those two dark nipples then adding bursts of lines.

“Are you drawing suns on my boobs?”

Dean chuckled and nodded. “And these are your pectorals, by the way.”

“Call them what you will,” Cas grinned. “But they’re positively porn star now.”

Dean poked him in the ribs to shut him up and continued his painting, making more swirls and abstract designs since those were far easier. He smirked as he very slowly made his way up Cas’s hard dick, ending with a dot on the tip. Cas was amazingly still through it all, watching Dean intently even as his cock twitched for more attention. 

Dean, on impulse, drew a small heart on Cas’s hipbone. Cas laughed and raised a questioning eyebrow.

“These are my favorite,” Dean said softly with a shy shrug, tracing both hip bones with a paint free thumb.

“Get my phone,” Cas said, pointing to it on the nightstand. Dean did so, tilting his head in a silent question.

“Take a picture of your art,” Cas smiled. “I want to see it before you lick it off me.”

Dean chuckled and snapped a picture, sending one to his phone for good measure. 

“Beautiful,” Cas murmured, staring at the picture for a moment before tossing the phone aside. “Now put that tongue to work, baby.”

Dean didn’t have to be told twice, immediately tossing his phone onto the bed and bracing hands on either side of Cas’s body, looking up at him as he lowered himself slowly to his chest. He looked down just before touching his tongue to the end of one of the lines of the sun drawn over Cas’s left nipple, dragging it upward. His eyes flicked back up to Cas’s face as he licked over the bud, feeling it harden beneath his tongue. Cas drew in a sharp breath as Dean breathed hot air gently over it, then moved to the cute freckle just to the side of it, closing his lips over the skin despite there not even being any paint there. 

Cas tangled a hand in his hair as he continued, taking another minute or so before moving to the right. He did the same on that side, finally looking up at Cas as he trailed his tongue through the dip in his stomach. Cas looked fucking lost, pupils lust-blown and mouth hanging open slightly as he panted. It was fucking beautiful, and Dean had a hard time looking back down to continue his task when everything in him wanted to watch Cas react instead. 

He took his time sliding his tongue over the chocolate heart, swirling it over the sharp dip there, over the hip bone that may as well have been molded by a true master of his craft. Dean supposed, in a way, it was.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” Dean said before he could stop himself, and he dipped his head to take Cas’s hard cock in his mouth to distract both of them from the unintentional brief glimpse into his lovesick mind.

He sucked him down greedily, tasting chocolate and Cas , and he moaned around the thickness, making Cas arch slightly off the bed. 

“You’re...very good...with that tongue,” Cas said between pants, his fingers twitching at his sides. Dean hummed and grabbed one of Cas’s hands, letting his fingers tangle in his hair. Cas took the invitation to heart and thoroughly tugged, pulled, and dug into Dean’s hair as his cock was surrounded by tight, wet heat. 

Dean licked up the last of the chocolate, but kept his mouth firmly wrapped around Cas’s cock. He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of that thick head pushing against the back of his throat and Cas’s fingers in his hair. Cas made the best noises, moaning and chanting whatever prayer he could between groans in whatever language he deemed fit. Sometimes Dean caught his name between nonsensical words. 

He pulled off slightly to swirl his tongue around the head, gathering up the pre-cum and smearing it over the rigid shaft. Cas shuddered, his legs falling apart shamelessly as he thrust up into Dean’s mouth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck ,” Cas breathed, looking down at Dean with eyes darkened by lust. “Shit, look at you. Look so fuckin’ good like this. Not even in my dreams did you ever look this good.”

Dean pulled off breathlessly, taking Cas's cock in hand and stroking, lips slick with spit.

“Awww, Cas… you dream about me?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Dean,” Cas growled, reaching down and grabbing a fistful of his shirt. Dean chuckled as Cas hauled him up his body and crushed their lips together, breaking soon after to pull Dean’s shirt over his head. He struggled to remove his own socks and pants when Cas kissed him again, but as long as Cas was kissing him Dean wasn’t going to complain. 

Cas pulled him flush, his tongue teasing Dean’s as he peeled Dean’s boxers off. Dean rolled his hips, smiling when Cas gasped softly against his lips.

“ Dean-”

“I know, baby, hold on,” Dean muttered, licking his lips as he pulled away and reached for the new bottle of lube. He squirted some quickly into his hand and reached down between them, pressing his fingers to Cas’s hole. Cas hissed and tensed slightly, but arched his back, pressing down against Dean’s fingers. Dean circled a finger around his rim before plunging it inside and slowly moving it in and out. He rested his forehead against Cas’s abdomen, one hand resting just below his ribcage, and he occasionally pressed a kiss there when Cas seemed too otherwise distracted to notice.

“Fuck me already,” Cas whined impatiently, grinding down against Dean’s fingers.

“You’re a pushy bitch, you know that?” Dean huffed, gently pulling his fingers out and sitting back to quickly coat his cock with a thick layering of lube.

“Only when you’re taking too damn long to get that big dick- oh, fuck yes -” Cas moaned and tossed his head as Dean thrust inside, burying himself halfway. Cas immediately clamped around him, drawing a hiss, and arched his back.

“C’mon-”

Dean buried himself the rest of the way and grabbed Cas’s thigh, digging into the firm flesh as he shuddered violently. “Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned, his head falling back between his shoulders briefly before Cas’s movement below him gets his attention.

“ Move ,” Cas demanded, glaring up at Dean. 

Dean swallowed and leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of Cas, who wraps his legs around Dean’s shoulders and effectively bends himself in half. Dean didn’t even have the capacity to marvel at that and snapped his hips hard, punching a groan out of Cas. 

Dean pumped into him hard, skin slapping against skin, Cas grunting with the force of it, his eyes closed and lips parted. The position became uncomfortable after awhile so Dean readjusted, sitting back on his calves and pulling Cas close by his thighs. He looked down, watching himself slowly press in and out of Cas, until Cas snapped something impatient at him again and he threw Cas’s right leg to the left. It created a new angle, a new pressure, and Cas cried out when Dean pressed down on his legs and thrusted roughly inside.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck,” Cas mumbled, gripping the sheets by his head, pressing the side of his face against the comforter.

“Close?” Dean asked breathlessly, almost sighing in relief when Cas nodded. Dean adjusted them again, leading Cas’s legs to wrap around his waist, pressing deep as he leaned over Cas again. 

Cas looked up and met his gaze for several electrifying seconds before screwing them shut and pressing his head back against his pillow, a broken moan falling from his lips. Dean looked down between them in time to see his cock kicking against his stomach, cum pooling in the dip. The sight and Cas clenching around him was more than enough to do him in, and Dean groaned and pressed his face against Cas’s neck as he came, thrusting shallowly through his orgasm.

He practically collapsed on top of Cas afterward, panting into his neck. When he softened and slipped out, Cas finally groaned and tapped Dean on the back.

“Get offa me.”

Dean reluctantly rolled to his back beside Cas, throwing an arm over his stomach, chest rising and falling as he worked to catch his breath. 

“Can’t believe you can fuck like that and you spent all these years fucking those women who didn’t appreciate it instead of me.”

Dean huffed a laugh, reaching up to scratch at his chest as he looked over at Cas. Cas wasn’t smiling, not at first, but a corner of his lips finally quirked slightly.

“Thought you said I was a soft fuck.”

“First of all, that was an assumption. And second, you are . Just not in the way I expected.” 

“Huh?”

Cas did smile then, licking his lips quickly. “It’s a good thing. Promise.”

“Whatever, you cryptic freak,” Dean muttered, feeling around for his shirt and cleaning off the remnants of lube from his crotch before tossing it to Cas. “Weren’t you the one who was supposed to do all the work? I took you to the Falls and shit. And that stupid restaurant.”

“Quit actin’ like you hated it,” Cas chuckled, wiping away the cum on his stomach then tossed the shirt onto the floor. “And I was gonna ride you like the pro I am, but what can I say? After that tongue massage I was feelin’ a little lazy.”

“I do like the way you bend, though,” Dean continued with a wide grin, rolling onto his side to face Cas. “All that yoga pays off I guess.”

“You should join me sometimes.”

“And break a hip? No way.”

Cas snorted and wiped away some cooling sweat from his brow. “Break a hip? Fuckin’ grandpa.”

“You and I know both my level of flexibility is zero.”

“Just takes practice. Patience.” Cas licked his lips, glancing over at Dean and rubbing a hand over his chest idly. “I’m only that flexible because I’ve been doing it for years. Besides, it might help your stress. Anxiety. Help you...mellow out.”

“I’m not wearin’ little tight shorts like you do.”

“Pity,” Cas smirked and winked. “Your ass would look fantastic.”

Dean blushed and ducked his head in reflex. He twitched when he felt Cas’s fingers on his cheek, stroking softly as Cas spoke.

“You’re endearing when you blush,” Cas said it in a hushed tone, as if telling a secret.

“Shuddup.”

Cas laughed quietly and tugged the blankets over both of them. He tilted his head at Dean expectantly and the blush came back as Dean rolled over to his other side. He sighed as Cas pressed up close from behind, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and kissing his shoulder. 

“My cute little spoon.”

“ Shut. Up. ”

Chapter Text

The drive home the next day was...weird.

They still talked, they ate road food and played road games, they fought over the music and sang at the top of their lungs. But they didn’t talk about the obvious, about the glaring issue they’d have to face when they got home. Would this continue? Or was going back to Sioux Falls going to mark the end of whatever this was? 

There was a tension in the air that Dean knew Cas could feel too without even asking, and while he was desperate to put the conversation out there, he couldn’t make himself be the one to bring it up. 

Half an hour from home, Cas was slumped into the passenger’s seat with his knees on the dash- something that Dean had bitched at both Cas and Sam for doing- frowning down at his phone as he swiped his thumbs across the screen. Dean raised an eyebrow over at him, clearing his throat as he turned down the music.

“You’re not, uh. Not gonna disappear on me right away, are ya?”

Cas didn’t say anything at first, finishing his text before looking up and sliding his phone into his pocket. His frown deepened and he tilted his head. 

“Of course not.”

Dean coughed. “Good.”

“In fact…”

Dean snapped his head to the side, meeting Cas’s gaze. “What?”

“Well I...I mean, it’s nothing, really, I guess...I was just wonderin’ if I could sleep in your bed tonight.”

“That won’t make tonight different from any- oh.” It was different. He knew it, Cas knew it. They didn’t need to say it. “Yeah, Cas. You don’t gotta ask now, either. It’s fine. Always.”

“If there are any times you don’t wanna...y’know…”

“Right.”

“-then that’s fine, too. Or if you wanna...have guests, or anything…

“Uh huh.”

“Right. You just-”

“Let you know.”

“Let me know, right. Yeah.” Cas scrubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, then gestured toward Dean. “I don’t want this to be weird.”

“It’s not weird, Cas. You’re my best friend. I’m glad I could figure out all this shit with you, anyway. Ain’t no one better.” 

Cas pressed his lips together and looked out the window, his hands wringing in his lap. “Right.” 

The tension eased a bit, but Dean’s skin still itched with... something . He couldn’t help feel he’s missed something vital here, but damn if he could figure out what that something was. He felt it in the air, just under the layer of hunky-dory they were both trying to put off.  

When they were finally home, both of them decided the luggage could wait. Dean’s legs were cramping and Cas was anxious to check on his plants and bees. Dean got in a quick call to Sam, letting him know they were home and to check in on the brat. He promised to bring her the souvenir he bought her tomorrow, earning an excited squeal, before Sam took the phone away. 

“What did you get her?” Sam asked suspiciously. 

“Just a moose from good ol’ Canada,” Dean chuckled. “It’s super soft. Almost kept it for myself. But then Cas might get jealous I’m cuddling it instead of him.”

“He still sleeps in your bed?”

Dean shifted on his feet as he peered into the fridge and grabbed a beer. “Yeah. Sometimes. Why?” 

“Nothin’,” Sam said quickly. “Just curious.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“How was the trip?”

Dean felt his cheeks heat up and was glad Sam couldn’t see. He’d ask an endless amount of questions, none of which Dean was prepared to answer. 

“Good,” Dean coughed, “it...it was good. Saw Niagara Falls and shit.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.” Dean twisted the cap off his beer and tossed it in the sink, holding his breath for a moment while he waited to see if Cas heard the clink . For the guy being as messy as he tended to be, for some reason the beer caps in the sink is what did him in. He let out a breath after a moment of silence, assuming Cas must be outside checking his hive. “It’s smaller than I remember.”

“Well, we were just kids.”

“Right.” Dean crossed over to the back door and looked out, holding the phone with one hand and his beer with the other. Cas was outside- in his regular clothes, like an idiot, sans protective gear- and pulling the frames out of his hive. Dean knocked on the glass and raised his arms in question when Cas looked over at him, but he just went back to work with a small shrug. “Goddamned madman.”

“Who, Cas?”

“Who else?” Dean took a swig of his beer, watching Cas carefully slide one of the frames back into the hive and pull out another.

“I hope he’s plannin’ on comin’ next time you visit. Finley won’t stop talking about how much she misses her ‘Unca Cas’.” 

“I’ll see to it he does,” Dean said, turning away from the window and heading toward Cas’s room. “Actually, he...I’ll see if I can find it, but he did buy her a little somethin’ too-”

“Oh, god-”

“Nah, nothin’ bad, it’s just- OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”

“What?!”

Dean held the hand with the beer up to his chest, his heart beating wildly against it. Swanhilda was propped up in a chair just inside Cas’s bedroom door, her creepy milky eye staring straight at Dean, the other rolled back in her head. Dean gritted his teeth and strode to the sliding glass door, yanking it open.

“Asshole!” he called, making Cas jump.

“Bees, Dean-”

“You deserve to be stung, you dick!”

Dean smugly slid the door shut roughly, smirking when he could see Cas jump from a sting or two. 

“What was that about?” Sam asked, sounding amused and only slightly worried. 

“Nothin‘,” Dean snorted, taking a swing of his beer. “Cas just bein’ his usual self. Listen, I’m gonna go. I gotta get a shower before he does or he’ll take all the hot water.” 

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Dean tossed the phone onto the couch and scrubbed a hand down his face, his heart still pounding a little. He walked over to the bathroom, shedding his clothes as he went and pointedly ignoring Cas’s room and that freaky ass doll. 

He set his beer on the sink and turned on the water, stepping under the spray when it was at the temperature he preferred- scalding hot. Dean didn’t even bat an eye when he heard Cas enter the bathroom a few minutes later, grumbling under his breath as he dug through the cabinets. 

“Get stung?” Dean teased. 

“Fuck off, Winchester.” 

Dean laughed and pulled the curtain aside to see Cas struggling to find his sting ointment. Dean reached over and grabbed the bottle from up high, handing it to Cas and smiling at his grumpy face. 

Cas sat down on the toilet seat and started applying the ointment carefully to the stings. Dean soaped his hair, glancing at him through the crack in the shower curtain.

“You should really start wearing your suit-”

“ Shut up, Dean.”

Dean opened his mouth to say something but Cas’s ringtone broke the silence, AC/DC’s “I’ve Got Big Balls” blaring loudly. Dean snorted and he rinsed the soap out of his hair and Cas fumbled around for his phone, shoving it between his ear and shoulder.

“Hello? Hey. Just puttin’ on some of this sting ointment...well, yeah, it was fuckin’ Dean’s fault…”

Dean chuckled, the laugh echoing in the small bathroom. 

“Yeah, he’s right here. No, I’m not askin’ him that. Why would I ask him that? Like anything would change after all this time.”

“Ask me what?” Dean poked his head out of the shower, water dripping and a little bit of soap still trying to run down his face.

Cas glanced up at him and waved a dismissive hand, frowning as the person on the other end of the line spoke. He rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I don’t kiss and tell, sweet cheeks.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Cas, what the-”

“Yeah, well, keep dreamin’.” Cas paused and sat up straight, holding his phone by his ear. “Nah, I’m gonna...yeah, gonna just take a few days to be here. Oh, yeah, trip was... very good.” He looked up at Dean, giving him a mischievous smile. “Yeah. This weekend it is, then. Alright. You too. Bye.” He ended the call and shoved his phone back in his pocket.

Dean raised a brow.

“Abi.” Cas shrugged, squeezing out a little more of the ointment and putting it on a large red welt on his neck. Dean actually felt a little bad seeing it.

“Oh.” Dean tried not to sound disappointed. He grabbed the body wash and squirted some onto a loofah. “So, you’re, uh...goin’ over there this weekend.”

“Yeah.” There was a moment of silence, then: “That okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“No reason.”

Dean rolled his eyes where Cas couldn’t see, then started soaping his body. He pointedly ignored when Cas poked his head in to watch him silently for a few minutes.

“You could come.”

Dean almost rolled his eyes again, but something stopped him. It wasn’t even one of those ‘if-he-couldn’t-have-Cas-no-one-could’ things, but more so that he’d take Cas however he could get him. In reality, he’d always known that, but before they’d actually been together, it was easier for Dean to turn down the possibility. Now...he had to know Cas was... okay. 

“Alright.”

Cas gaped at him. “What?”

“I said alright.”

“You’re gonna...come with me. To Abi’s.”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna...participate.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “Yeah.”

Cas took a step back, gripping the shower curtain. “Well, fuck.”

Dean frowned at him. “Is that not okay?” 

Cas quickly shook his head. “No, it’s...fine. You’ve just never shown any interest before.” 

“Well,” Dean shrugged, scrubbing the loofah over his chest. “Now I’m interested.” 

“Why?” Cas demanded. 

Dean shrugged again, avoiding his gaze. “Do I need a reason? I just wanna try it.” And make sure you’re okay and that they don’t hurt you. 

Cas stares at him for a good minute before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Fine. But I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

Damn right I won’t.

“You let me be the judge of that.” 

Cas left without another word and Dean finished up his shower quickly. He must be an idiot to go to this thing, but he really didn’t like Cas going by himself all the time. He didn’t trust those so-called friends and he hated that Cas made himself so vulnerable to them. High and drunk and completely out of his head by the time he stumbled home each time, and Dean’s heart always broke a little more when he saw his friend in such a state. 

Dean wrapped a towel around his waist and padded out into the living room, finding Cas sprawled out, half naked, on the couch. 

“It’s okay if I come, right?” Dean asked, walking past to the fridge, grabbing another beer.

“Don’t you dare toss that cap in the sink. I just dug one out of there.”

Dean hovered with his hand over the sink, palming the cap long enough to drop it inconspicuously into the trash can. “So it’s okay, then?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Cas answered, slinging his legs over the arm of the couch. “Are you...um. Participating with everyone?”

“That’s a hard no.”

“Then why would you-”

“Wanna see what all the fuss is about.” Dean shrugged, plopping down on the couch, just above Cas’s head. 

Cas looked up at him, narrowing his eyes. “Right, but, uh...you’re just gonna watch? Like Crowley?”

“Well, no. Figured I could fuck you.”

“Right, but…” Cas chewed his lip, “you realize they all...do that, right?”

“It’s an orgy. I figured as much.”

“No, I mean…” Cas sighed, looking up at Dean for a long time before speaking again. “Inias, Meg, Abi...all of them.”

Dean gritted his teeth. He definitely didn’t want to imagine either of the girls fucking Cas with strap-ons, but he didn’t want to imagine Cas fucking them either. And he definitely didn’t want to think about Inias fucking Cas. Or Crowley... watching.

“Fine.”

“I just don’t want you to-”

Dean looked down at him, doing his best not to show how he was really feeling about all of it. “Want me to what?”

“I just don’t want you to get weird about it,” Cas said. “And it's not what I was expecting from you. You don't have to do that, and we could still… do whatever it is we're doing.”

“Somethin’ different,” Dean shrugged. “Who knows? Maybe it’ll be fun.”

Cas looked skeptical but he didn’t argue. “It’s not gonna...change things between us. Right?”

“Think we’ve already kinda crossed that line, don’t you?” Dean snorted, taking a swig of his beer.

“You do?”

“Uh. No.” Dean frowned and turned his beer up again, his hand automatically tangling in Cas’s hair when he scooted up to lay his head on Dean’s lap. “I mean, I dunno. I would’ve said yes if you’d ever asked before, but...nothing really feels different.”

Cas nodded. “I get what you mean.”

Dean ran his tongue slowly over his top teeth, tapping the neck of his beer bottle as he stared blankly at the tv. He huffed a laugh. “Hey, you remember the first time we ever kissed?”

“I was eleven years old. You wanted to practice. ” Cas raised his hands to perform air quotes, grinning widely. 

“Well, yeah,” Dean said quickly, licking his lips. “Girls were startin’ to notice me and I didn’t know how to kiss yet.”

“Neither did I.”

Then

“Hey, Jimmy, can you pass me the Pringles?”

Dean stretched his arms over his head as Jimmy dug around the covers on his rollout bed, finally producing the tube of Pringles and tossing them over to Dean. His hair was still mussed with sleep and he was wearing a set of Dean’s pajamas that were way too big, the shirt almost hanging off one of his shoulders. He rubbed the sleep from one of his eyes, staring ahead at the television while he chewed on a chip.

Jimmy had stayed the night before, like he did most weekends and often during the week, at the request of Dean’s parents. They’d even been talking about buying bunk beds to put in Dean’s room so Jimmy could feel more at home when he stayed, since the space was so small. 

“What are we watching?” Jimmy asked, blinking at the tv.

“Scooby-Doo,” Dean said, crunching down on a chip.

Jimmy hummed and crawled into bed beside Dean. It was a tight fit, since Dean only had a twin size mattress, but they didn’t mind the closeness. It was normal for them.

“That’s the one with the talking dog,” Jimmy said, squinting at the screen. 

Dean chuckled and nodded. “Lotta talking dogs in cartoons, but yeah...this one is my favorite.”

“Why?”

“Uh,” Dean’s eleven-year-old mind blanked on anything substantial. “He’s just...uh, funny.”

“Funny.”

“And he eats a lot,” Dean grinned, biting down on another chip. “I like eating.”

“Pie,” Jimmy said softly. 

“Yeah, I love eating pie.”

Jimmy was a boy of few words, but Dean didn’t mind that. He talked enough for the both of them. 

They watched in comfortable silence, Jimmy occasionally asking a question and Dean answering patiently. Dean had figured out a long time ago that Jimmy’s knowledge on certain things was missing. His mom told him once that Jimmy didn’t grow up like he did and so he might not have the same “mannerisms” he did. Dean wasn’t sure what that word meant, but he did know that he didn’t care how different Jimmy was. He liked him just fine.

Dean frowned when Daphne came onto the screen, chewing his lip. He glanced at Jimmy, setting the Pringles aside. 

“Hey...Jimmy,” Dean murmured. “You ever kiss a girl?”

Jimmy frowned and looked over at Dean, squinting in his usual way. “No...why?”

“Uh...I dunno,” Dean looked down, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “Just wonderin’.”

“Have you?”

“...No,” Dean admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “I dunno how.”

“Are we supposed to know how?” Jimmy asked, his frown deepening. “Is it gonna be on a test at school?”

Dean quirked a smile and shook his head. “Nah...I just, uh…”

“You what?”

Dean chewed on his lip and looked at Jimmy from under his eyelashes. “You think...maybe, I could practice? On you?”

“I don’t know how it will help, since I don’t know how to either.”

“Well, I mean...I kinda know how to. I just haven’t done it before. But if I practice I can get good at it before I kiss a girl.”

Jimmy tilted his head and smiled, nodding. “Okay.”

Dean nodded back and took a deep breath, looking down at Jimmy’s lips. There was something about them that always drew Dean’s attention anyway, but now as he leaned in he couldn’t think of anything other than how pink they were and how soft they looked. 

Dean pressed his lips against Jimmy’s, his eyes fluttering shut when he remembered that’s how he’d seen it happen in all the movies. He pulled away and opened them again, meeting Jimmy’s gaze, his eyes wide and blue and staring at him nervously.

“I think maybe, I’m, uh,” Jimmy cleared his throat, “maybe it’ll get better if you keep trying?”

“Was it bad?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Dean frowned. “Well, uh...okay. I guess I’ll keep trying anyway, if you think it’ll help.”

Jimmy nodded. Dean licked his lips and furrowed his brow in concentration, then leaned forward and closed his eyes as his lips met Jimmy’s again. He kept them there for a few seconds, opening his eyes as he began to pull away, jumping slightly when he found Cas’s eyes wide open and staring at him.

“You’re supposed to close your eyes!”

“Why?”

Dean leaned back, scratching the top of his head. “I don’t know, but it’s how they do it on tv.”

“But…” Jimmy tugged on the hem of his t-shirt, “then I can’t see you.”

“Well...dude, it’s a little weird that you’re just starin’ at me while I’m kissing you.” Dean chewed his lip, watching Jimmy’s face fall. “Sorry.”

Jimmy shrugged after a beat, offering a smile. “That’s okay. It’s why we’re practicing.”

Dean nodded, smiling back. “Was that one better?”

“I thought it was very nice.”

“Me too.”

Jimmy looked down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. “Maybe we could try again. For practice.”

Dean leaned forward without a word, pressing their lips together again. Jimmy tentatively reached up and laid his hands on Dean’s cheeks, letting out a soft sigh when Dean pulled away again.

“I think that one was really good,” Jimmy said innocently, glancing up at him through his dark lashes with big blue eyes.

“Yeah,” Dean swallowed, his throat dry. Jimmy smiled at him again, which he often did when he didn’t know how else to respond, and looked back to the tv. When in doubt, Jimmy tended to do what he observed others do, for that reason and that reason alone. 

His hands still fidgeted in his lap so Dean looked around, locating Jimmy’s raggedy green blanket and handing it over to him. The thing had holes throughout and honestly was probably best for the trash can at this point, but Jimmy never went anywhere without it. There was a place on the blanket, a very specific part that Jimmy nicknamed “Rosie” for no apparent reason, and when he got fidgety he liked to rub Rosie against his cheek. It seemed to mellow him out. When he was younger he’d also sucked his thumb, but thankfully Dean’s parents had been able to break him of that pretty quickly. Mary had tried to throw the blanket away only once, but Jimmy had a meltdown, so she opted to, at the very least, try to have it repaired. She took it to a seamstress who sewed up all the holes and brought it proudly back to Jimmy, who immediately ripped the same holes back into it and happily wrapped it around himself. Mary’d just given up after that, and Jimmy seemed happier for it.

Jimmy located Rosie and began absently rubbing it against his cheek as he watched Scooby-Doo, sighing softly.

It was the first time Dean remembered thinking he might be in love with his best friend.

Now

Cas did still have the blanket, and from time to time Dean would catch him curled up with it in his bed, fist clutched around Rosie.

“You gonna put clothes on anytime soon, or are you getting at something?”

“Hmm?”

Cas grinned up at him. “Daydreaming?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face and looked down at his near-empty beer bottle, frowning. “Hey, I may have told Sam we’d come visit with them tomorrow. I’m apparently due for uncle duty. So are you.”

“I am no one’s uncle,” Cas grunted, pulling himself up off the couch.

“Yeah, well, close enough,” Dean said, standing and adjusting the towel around his waist as he walked his bottle to the trash. “Besides, Finn’s basically just the little female version of you.”

Cas smiled proudly. “Well, she is a whole lot cooler than either you or Sam.”

“I’m cool ,” Dean pouted. Cas hummed as he poked around the kitchen, frowning at the near empty contents. 

“How about a pizza tonight?” Cas asked, closing the cabinet doors. 

“Awesome, but get your own,” Dean made a face. “I don’t want your spinach and mushrooms getting on my beautiful pepperoni.” 

“It’s ridiculous to each get a large pizza, Dean.” 

“We both know that we can both finish one by ourselves.”

“Doesn’t mean we should,” Cas muttered, but he ordered them both their own anyway because if he didn’t Dean would bitch the whole night about how a sliver of spinach tainted his side of the pizza. 

Dean was dressed in sweats and an old shirt, slouched on the couch and punching away at a controller by the time the pizza came. He paid the guy and dragged Cas away from his plants to come eat. Cas had stripped even further down, wearing only his tight yoga shorts. Dean stared openly, because really, how could he not? 

“I’m not a piece of meat, Winchester,” Cas huffed, though it held no real annoyance. 

“That’s okay,” Dean shrugged. “I usually prefer a piece of pie anyway.” 

“Are you saying I’m pie?” 

“I did put filling inside you.” 

“Oh, that’s gross,” Cas murmured, tugging the shorts down a little on the inside of his thighs. 

Dean plopped down on the couch with his pizza in his lap, using the pinky of his pizza hand to change the television onto Netflix instead of his game, settling for more Schitt’s Creek .

Cas settled in beside him and they ate and watched in silence. Cas got up and washed his hands after his third slice, sticking the rest of his and Dean’s leftovers in the fridge. He stretched out on the couch when he returned, across Dean’s lap, and heaved a deep sigh.

“Rub my back.”

Dean snorted, eyes never leaving the tv. “What do I look like?”

“My very best friend in the whole world.”

Dean grumbled as he pulled Cas’s shirt up, ghosting his fingers over his back. “So Sam and Eileen’s tomorrow?”

“Mmm,” Cas turned his head to the side, pressing his cheek to Dean’s thigh. “Guess I should decarboxylate my stash tonight, then.”

“De-carb...uh-”

“Decarboxylate,” Cas said again. 

“Wanna elaborate?”

Cas sighed again, wiggling around a bit when Dean stopped rubbing, until he started up again. “Weed loses all of its altering compounds if you bake it directly into something. It’s just gross and doesn’t get you high. Heat is what activates the THC, but high heat will kill it. So I have to bake it at a low heat for awhile before I can actually use it in the honey.”

“And somehow that works?”

“Yep. I mean, you’re essentially doing that when you smoke it. You light it with a lighter and it helps activate the THC, which goes into the smoke that goes into your lungs. But with a lighter, the heat is too high, so you don’t get as much of it as you potentially could. Baking it at a low temperature essentially bakes the THC in, so it’s more potent.”

Dean snorted and shook his head. “You have way more knowledge about that than any person should.”

“Tell me about it.” Cas rolled to his back and groaned as he sat up, his shirt falling back down to pool around his waist. “Anyway, yes. I’ll do that tonight so I can go with you tomorrow. Will John and Mary be there?”

“Dunno. Maybe? Sam didn’t say.”

“Hope so.” He stood and stretched, then shuffled around items on top of the coffee table until he found his lighter. “Haven’t seen them in awhile. Your mom’s birthday’s coming up. I need to figure out what to get her.”

“I think she’d be happy with the gift of your presence,” Dean teased, kicking half-heartedly at him.

“Even so,” Cas said without missing a beat, locating his cigarettes and putting one between his lips. “Have you made us plans for Thanksgiving?”

Dean shrugged. “More of the same, probably. Sam and Eileen, Finn, mom and dad, Bobby and Rufus. Me and you.”

Cas lit his cigarette and took a pull, nodding as he blew the smoke out. “Right. Good.”

“Is it?” Dean raised a brow. “You didn’t make other plans did you?”

Cas snorted and took a drag, then brought it away from his lips and let the cigarette dangle by his side as he blew out the smoke. “Nah, of course not. Where else would I go? Besides, I’ve been having Thanksgiving with your family since I was a kid.”

“ Our family,” Dean said firmly. “They would’ve adopted you if they could. Though...that would’ve made this arrangement we got goin’ a little awkward.”

Cas chuckled then disappeared outside, undoubtedly to get to work on preparing his “product”. Dean played his game a little more, snuck another slice of pizza and a beer before he  finally decided he was too tired to concentrate on anything. He shut everything off and grabbed his phone, glancing into the kitchen briefly to see Cas checking on his stuff. He left him to it and climbed into bed, shutting off the lights and grabbing his phone. He bummed around with some of his games and Facebook, cautiously checking Cas’s Tumblr and immediately regretting it. Dude posted some freaky shit.

Cas crawled in next to him a while later and Dean tossed his phone aside with a sigh.

“Were you waiting on me?” Cas murmured, pressing up behind him and kissing his shoulder.

“No,” Dean said stubbornly.

“Mm, you’re a bad liar.”

“And you smell like pot.”

Cas chuckled softly and tugged at Dean’s waist. “Does that mean I can’t kiss you? I didn’t eat or smoke any.”

“Since when does it matter?” Dean grumbled, turning in his arms and cupping the side of Cas’s face as he pressed their lips together urgently, tongue teasing the seam of Cas’s lips for only a second before he opened up for him.

For tonight he wouldn’t think about what he end of the week held for him, or how Cas would soon be subject to the touch of other people who simply didn’t care about him the way Dean did. For tonight, Cas was his, and Dean could imagine that it was mutual and it would always be this way. For tonight, he and Cas were everything he ever imagined for them.

----

When Dean woke the next morning, the bed was strangely cold and empty. He blinked against the sunlight streaming through the window and wiped the sleep from his eyes, sniffing loudly as he sat up with a groan. Cas’s music was playing softly from the kitchen and so Dean got out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants before following the sound of Bastille’s “Flaws”.

Cas was in his robe singing along to the chorus when he found him at the counter with his back turned. Cas’s singing was abhorrent, one of the few things he couldn’t teach himself to be better at, but it was strangely comforting to hear despite that. Dean smiled softly and leaned over the counter, knocking on it once.

Cas turned and smiled, picking up one of his many jars and stuffing something that looked like a little washcloth inside. He did the same with the remaining jars, then sat them all in a row on top of the stove.

“What’s that?”

“Cheesecloth,” Cas answered without even turning. “I wrap the weed in cheesecloth and tie them off, then put them in here and pour the honey in.” He picked up the large pot full of honey he’d harvested from his hive, turning back to Dean with a big smile. “Then they go in the crockpot, and our whole house smells like pot for eight hours.”

“Fantastic.”

Dean rummaged in the fridge and pulled out a piece of cold pizza, chomping down much to the disgust of Cas. He hated Dean’s habit of eating cold pizza, despite Dean’s insistence it was the best breakfast. 

He leaned against the counter as he ate, watching Cas putter about. While Dean didn’t exactly like the way Cas made his money, he had to admit the guy knew what he was doing. He must be good at it, because he never came home with any leftovers. Plus, it was kind of interesting watching him work. 

“When do we go to Sam’s?” Cas asked after a few moments of silence. 

“Mmm, just whenever I guess,” Dean shrugged. “I think he’s doing a barbecue thing…” 

“I should probably shower first,” Cas smirked. “I’d hate to explain the pot smell to angelcake.” 

“Yeah, I can’t imagine Sam would like his daughter knowing anything about that,” Dean snorted.  

“Is he gonna make you grill everything?” 

“Probably,” Dean sighed. “He sucks at the grill. Only thing he knows how to make is a salad .” 

“I sense a bit of judgement,” Cas chuckled. 

“Uh, Yeah. It’s salad . We’re not rabbits.” 

“Salad’s healthy, Dean,” Cas said, carefully pouring honey into jars. He seemed to be struggling a bit, some of it spilling on the outside of the first jar, so Dean stepped up to hold the jar still for him.

“Sure, but at what cost?”

Cas snorted and rolled his eyes. He bit his lip in concentration, brow furrowed as he poured the rest of the honey into jars and set the pot to the side. He started screwing the lids on the jars and Dean briefly wrestled with the overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around him from behind, eventually folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the counter.

Cas placed the jars in his two crockpots and filled them with water, turning them on low. 

“Alright,” he said finally, turning to the sink to wash the stickiness off his hands. “Oh! I need to show you what I made for Finn. See if you think she’ll like it.”

“You made her something?”

“Yeah.” Cas rinsed his hands and toweled them off, turning to Dean. “I...well. I couldn’t really sleep well last night...I dunno, I guess all the energy still from the trip. So I finally just got up around three, and I realized the only thing I bought for Finn was that stupid ‘My Uncle went to Niagara Falls and all I got was this crappy t-shirt’ shirt, which was only supposed to be a joke gift. So anyway, I painted her Niagara Falls. As I saw it.” Cas shrugged. “Hold on.”

He disappeared into his room, returning with a small canvas. 

“Still a little wet, but…” he handed it to Dean.

“Cas, this is…” Dean stared in awe at the painting. It’s not like he didn’t know Cas was talented, because really, Cas could do just about anything he put his mind to. The painting was full of color, and honestly, it was way more beautiful than the Falls actually was, with the kind of detail you just didn’t notice in the midst of it all. But what made this painting different than all the other pictures he’d ever seen of the Falls was the way Cas saw it.  

It was drawn from his point of view on the boat, from the very point that they stood and watched the Falls. There was a person standing on the edge of the boat in a poncho, looking out over the water. A person that, due to the slight bowing of the legs, Dean knew to be him.

Like Cas had captured a snapshot of his own mind.

“It’s what?”

Dean snapped his head up, finding Cas looking at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

“It’s, um. Fuck. She’ll love it, man.”

Cas smiled. “Good.”

“I’m serious, man,” Dean said, carefully setting the painting down. “You’re like bursting at the seams with talent. She’s gonna ask for more now.”

“Fine with me,” Cas shrugged, deftly ignoring the compliment. “I enjoy painting for others. Especially kids. They’re accepting of flaws.”

“What flaws?” Dean snorted, glancing at the painting again. “This looks better than the actual Falls.”

Cas waved him off and wandered off to the bathroom to shower. Dean sighed and stared at the painting a little while longer, wishing he had a way to express himself the way Cas did. He eventually got some actual clothes on and picked out a band shirt for Cas in an attempt to prevent Cas from wearing a shirt that Finn really didn’t need to see. Last time they visited, Cas had worn a shirt that had a picture of Calvin doing Hobbs, and Finn had asked questions . 

“Stop picking out my clothes,” Cas grumbled as he stepped inside his room, completely naked and rubbing a towel through his wet hair. 

“I only picked out a shirt,” Dean said, letting his eyes wander. “Sam still bitches at me for that last time.”

“She has to learn these things some time,” Cas clicked his tongue and held up the shirt with a resigned look. 

“Not while she’s still in the single digits, buddy.”

“Fine,” Cas sighed, pulling the shirt over his head and slipping on his jeans. Dean was sad to see that beautiful body covered up and wondered if they had time for a quickie. Probably not.

“Don’t worry,” Dean grinned, stepping into Cas’s space and kissing his forehead. “You’re still her weird uncle. Normal clothes won’t change that.”

“Better not,” Cas grumbled, poking Dean’s belly. “Or I’m holding you accountable.”

“Noted.”

Dean smirked as he turned to the door. He grabbed the keys and his wallet and phone, shoving them in pockets on the way out the front door.

“Hey, uh…” Dean looked over the car at Cas, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “Maybe best we don’t, um...give Sam any more reason to suspect anything. Y’know?”

Cas stared at him, balancing Finn’s gifts in his arms as he opened the door. “What do you mean?”

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, feeling small under Cas’s gaze, and rapped his knuckles nervously on the roof of the car. “You know.” He gestured back and forth between them. “Like, uh, the...t-touching, and-”

“I’m fucking with you, Dean.” Cas rolled his eyes and ducked into the car. Dean tilted his head to the side and frowned, then slid into the driver’s seat and closed the door behind him. He started the car, glancing over when Cas reached back to situate the gifts in the back seat.

“I just don’t want him to get anymore ideas-”

“I know. I’m not an idiot.” Cas buckled his seatbelt and looked over at Dean, huffing a laugh. “I can go an entire evening without touching you, you know. Believe it or not.”

“Uh huh.”

“Done it for years,” Cas said, shrugging. “You know, it may actually be weird for Sam if we aren’t like that at all. He’s kinda gotten used to it. We may just draw attention to the fact that we’re actually sleeping together now.”

Dean hesitated, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “Like Joey’s rule.”

“Huh?” Cas looked over at him curiously, his expression almost immediately morphing into first understanding, then annoyance. “Jesus, not another Friends reference.”

“Joey said that if there’s sexual tension it means they’re not sleeping together, and if the heat’s gone then they have slept together.”

“ Friends is a television show!”

“It’s life lessons!”

Cas threw his hands up. “It’s outdated and borderline problematic.”

“I know,” Dean grumbled, putting the car in reverse. “I hate how much I still love it, though.”

“You realize the codependency in that show is-”

“I know, I know,” Dean waved his head. “And anyway, look who’s talkin’. We’re probably the worst example of codependency. Or the best, I guess.”

“Exactly,” Cas nodded, smirking slightly. “We probably learned it from the show.”

“I think it started when you started sleeping in my bed.”

“You’re always blamin’ shit on me.”

Dean chuckled as he eased the Impala to a stop at a light. “Nah, it’s my fault too. I let you. My own personal teddy bear.”

“Mmm,” Cas hummed, scratching at his chin with a smile. “You do like to cuddle.”

“Yeah, but like...I’m super manly about it.”

“Sure, baby.”

Chapter Text

“Unca’ Cas!”

Finn flew straight past Dean and into Cas’s arms. Cas picked her up and swung her around, grinning as she squealed. Dean stood there, gaping, his arms stretched out and empty of nieces. 

“Dude.”

Cas chuckled and looked at him smugly. “See? I’m the cool one.”

“Bite me,” Dean growled, turning away from the giggling couple to look for his gigantic brother. He found Sam outside in the backyard, prepping the grill while Eileen set out a tray of drinks.

“She betrayed me,” Dean said in greeting, plopping down in a lawn chair with a pout.

“She doesn’t get to see Cas very often,” Sam said without looking up. “Stop being a baby.” He paused and did look up now, squinting his eyes at Dean. “Please tell you dressed him this time.”

“I did.”

“Good.” Sam scrubbed the face of the grill with a brush, giving Eileen a smile as she passed by them with a small wave on her way back into the house. “When you gotta go back to work?”

“Tomorrow,” Dean sighed, pulling his coat tighter around him. “Then it’s straight twelves through Wednesday and Bobby’s givin’ everyone the whole weekend for Thanksgiving. ‘Course, my twelves normally turn into fourteen pluses anyway, and with me actually takin’ a vacation for once…” 

“Yeah, can’t imagine Ash did much to make your life easier for when you got back.”

Dean chuckled. “At least there’s Benny.”

Sam started up the grill and closed the lid, grabbing them both beers from a cooler and handing one to Dean. He popped the cap off his own and pocketed it, taking a swig.

“So how was the trip?”

Dean took a sip of his own beer, liquid pursed in his lips. He cleared his throat. “Ah, good. Nice to get some time off.”

“And Cas?”

Dean snorted. “It’s Cas.”

Sam tapped a slender finger against his bottle. “So…”

“What?”

Sam raised a brow. “Gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Nothin’ to tell.” Dean shrugged. “We drove up, Cas carved his initials on that old tree, we saw the Falls and ate at this freaky-ass restaurant, and we came home.”

“You were gone almost a week.”

“And?”

Sam shrugged. “Just figured you’d have more to talk about.”

“Nope.”

Sam looked like he was about to say something, but Cas emerged from the house, shuffling slowly over to them. He clapped Sam on the back.

“Hello, Sam.”

“Cas.”

Cas got his own beer and plopped into a chair beside Dean, throwing a leg awkwardly up over the arm. “How’s, uh...lawyer life?”

“The usual,” Sam snorted, sipping his beer. “It’s, uh, piling up a little, but other than that…”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Eileen said as she came back out, carrying a plate of beef patties and handing them to Dean. “He’s up for partner.” 

“Is that a good thing?” Dean asked, standing and setting the plate down on a small table next to the grill. Sam had already grabbed every spice in his cabinet, so Dean got to work seasoning each patty. 

“Maybe,” Sam chuckled and shrugged. “Big pay increase and all that. Also means a lot more work, though…”

“You can handle it,” Dean said confidently. 

“I know,” Sam looked down at beer. “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea to take on so much right now. I don’t wanna be an absent father to Finn, and I don’t want to be one of those husbands that works all day and night and never sees his wife.” 

“A corporate stooge,” Cas supplied, swinging his leg. 

“Yeah,” Sam sighed. 

“Okay,” Dean said, his palm slapping against a patty before he set it aside. “Then don’t take it. Problem solved.” 

“Not everything is so simple, Dean.” 

“It is if you don’t overthink shit like you do,” Dean clicked his tongue. 

“I don’t overthink stuff-“ 

“Oh, good,” came Mary’s voice as she stepped outside, smiling and holding a large bowl of potato salad. “They’re already bickering. Maybe we can get through that part of the day early then.” 

“Dare to dream,” Eileen chuckled. 

“Castiel,” Mary greeted warmly, pushing the bowl into Sam’s arms on her way to Cas. Cas grinned and stood to hug her, bending down slightly so his head practically rested on her shoulder. She pulled back and cupped his face with her hands. “You look tired. Do you ever sleep?”

“It’s one of the only things I do, mama,” Cas said, giving her another squeeze around the middle before looking around with a frown. “Where’s dad?”

“Finley suckered him into playing with those creepy dolls you gave her.”

Cas grinned and squeezed her shoulder, then headed back inside, sliding the door closed behind him.

“So, does he ever sleep?” Mary asked again, sitting down in Dean’s chair and looking up at him. Sam sat in another and Eileen perched herself lightly on his knee. 

Dean snorted and threw some of the patties on the grill before closing the lid. “Mom, he had bags like that under his eyes when he was eight years old.”

“So what’s he doing, then?”

“He’s...y’know. He’s Cas.” Dean shrugged, tapping his finger against his beer. “He wakes up, he does weird shit all day, and he goes to bed.”

“He’s not dating anyone?” Eileen asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Cas doesn’t date. Y’all know that.”

“He doesn’t date ‘cause y’all are married,” Sam pointed out, wincing when Dean kicked at his foot. Eileen shrugged and Mary pressed her lips together smugly.

“Fine. Are you seeing anyone?” Eileen asked. 

Dean opened and closed his mouth a few times, finally scoffing and pulling a face. “Not currently. Been too busy to date, anyway.”

“Wow. And when was Lisa?” Sam asked, looking up at Eileen. “Over a year ago?” He looked back up at Dean. “I mean, when’s the last time you went that long without a hookup?”

“Shaddup.”

“Stop teasing your brother,” Mary patted Sam’s knee. “Nothing wrong with taking his time with the next one, right? You’re still young.”

“Not that young,” Dean mumbled, rubbing at his neck. He wasn’t old , but he certainly wasn’t young anymore. He was mid-thirties and felt every bit of it. 

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Mary waved him off. “You’re every a bit as handsome as you were ten years ago.”

“Amen to that,” Cas said, emerging from the sliding glass doors with John and Finn in tow.

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean blushed a bright red and turned to busy himself with the grill.

“Language,” Sam sighed. Everyone ignored him. Finn had heard worse from Cas by now.

“Say hello to your old man,” John grunted, pulling Dean into a hug.

“Hey, dad,” Dean mumbled, glaring at Cas’s smug little smile. He was gonna get that bitch when they got home.

“Cas was telling me all about that trip to Canada,” John smiled, clapping Dean on the shoulder. “Says you made the same stops we made all those years ago.”

“Goodness,” Mary sighed. “That seems like just yesterday…”

“For us, it was yesterday,” Cas piped in, grabbing a beer.

“How did the car hold up?” John asked, which of course he does because the Impala was almost another kid for him.

“Smooth as ever,” Dean cleared his throat, lifting the lid of the grill and flipping the patties. “Cas made sure to tell me every Niagara Falls fact on our way there.”

“Over 5,000 bodies are at the foot of the Falls and around 40 people die at the Falls every year. That’s a thing you know now,” Cas said, smirking as he tipped his beer back.

“How do they die there?” Finley asked, looking up at Cas.

“Nice, Cas. Nice.” Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, stretching out his long legs when Eileen stood to get another beer. 

“Howww about,” Cas bent down and picked Finn up, sitting her on his shoulders, “instead, you tell me about that show with the ponies you like so much?” He shot Dean an “oops” face, then grinned, resigned to listen to Finn rattle off the names and her thoughts on every character from My Little Pony for the next god knows how long .

“So you two had a nice trip, then,” Mary said with a smile, and Dean shrugged, just barely opening his mouth to speak before Cas interrupted.

“Did we ever,” he said a little too sincerely. “Dean sure does know how to show a guy a good time.”

“Oh, for the love of-” Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning while the others laughed and Dean busied himself with the grill and hoped no one noticed his blush. He chuckled and tried to look nonchalant, flipping a few of the patties.

“Yeah, think I may take vacations a little more often,” Dean said finally, closing the lid on the grill again. “Maybe next time go somewhere I’ve never been before.”

“I hear Texas is nice,” Cas said.

“Never said I was takin’ you,” Dean shot back.

“Sure you won’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Boys,” Mary cut in, chuckling. “Honestly, if you’re going to argue like a married couple, you may as well just get married already.”

“Aren’t we?” Cas asked, flinching slightly when Finn tugged roughly on his hair. Dean made a mental note to remind him to schedule a haircut soon.

“Well, let’s see,” Mary ticked off her fingers, a smile on her lips. “Do you cook for him?”

“Usually,” Cas smirked.

“Do you listen to him grumble about work?”

“Every day.”

“Hey,” Dean protested. “I’m not that bad.”

“Do you laugh at his stupid jokes?” Mary continued, ignoring Dean’s indignant squawk.

“When I have the energy,” Cas chuckled.

“Sounds married to me,” Mary shrugged, smiling when John shoved her shoulder playfully. 

“He didn’t even get me a ring,” Cas rolled his eyes, flashing Dean a teasing smile. 

“You all suck,” Dean grumbled, finishing off his beer and grabbing another. “I’m gonna burn your burgers.”

“I want mac and cheese,” Finn announced, playing with the curls on Cas’s head.

“We’re not having mac and cheese again,” Sam sighed. “You’ve had mac and cheese three nights in a row, Finn.”

“How about a hot dog, kid?” Dean asked when the girl’s face screwed up, the first signs of an impending fit. “Hot dogs are awesome. We can put ketchup on it.”

“We can put a smiley face on it,” Cas said, looking up at her. “You can’t do that with mac and cheese.”

It took a little more coaxing, but they luckily avoided a full on meltdown and convinced the girl to nibble on a hot dog. Once the burgers were ready, everyone crowded into the kitchen to dress them up the way they liked then meandered back outside to mingle. Dean put on some music and half-listened to his dad talk about the latest renovation he’s doing on the house while watching Cas push Finn on the swingset. 

Cas was good with kids. Well, he was good with Finn. He tended to avoid other kids. Most parents wouldn’t label him as “kid friendly” anyway, what with his habit of saying whatever he wanted in whatever language he wanted. One of Finn’s first words was ‘fuck’ because of Cas, a fact that Sam still bitched about and something Eileen still laughed about. 

Weirdly, Dean thinks about how Cas would’ve been a good dad, if given the opportunity. He doesn’t know how he knows that, but he does.

When everyone had finished eating and Finn was sitting sleepily in Eileen’s lap by their little firepit, Cas started cleaning up. Dean grabbed all the grilling supplies and Cas grabbed the plates and a few empty bottles, and they headed inside together.

“You’re not bein’ very subtle,” Dean hissed at him once the door closed behind them.

“As subtle as we ever are,” was his response, smirking as he dumped empties into the trash. He took dishes out of Dean’s hands and walked them to the sink, grabbing the sponge and squirting some soap on. Dean bit his lip, looking out the kitchen window over the backyard. Everyone was caught up in their own conversations, Eileen smiling and nodding to Mary with Finley slumped in her lap, her arms wrapped around the little girl. Sam and John were both staring at the fire while they talked, beers in their hands. 

Dean stepped up and pressed himself against Cas’s back, grabbing his hips as he looked over his shoulder out the window. 

“I thought you liked my jokes.”

Cas snorted, grinning back at him. “You said subtle. If I told them I actually liked them, they’d for sure know I was lying about something.”

“Ouch.”

“If it helps, I do find them much more entertaining than most people do.”

Dean stifled a grin and turned Cas in his arms as he pulled him to the side, away from the window. He pinned him with his hips, pressing him into the counter and hooking a hand behind his head to bring their lips together.

It was mostly tongues and teeth and he was proud to have Cas panting into his mouth almost instantly, rolling his hips as much as he could against Dean’s. They broke apart suddenly when the sliding glass door opened and Dean pushed himself back, a hand on the counter to steady himself as he wiped the other over his mouth.

Finn came trudging through the door, her hair a mess and eyes heavy, the look on her face that told Dean she’d been woken up and was in no mood to deal with people. It was a look Dean could swear she learned from Cas.

“Hey, nugget,” Cas crooned, squatting down to her level. “You goin’ to bed?”

She nodded grumpily, glaring at him.

“How about we come back soon so we can spend more time together?”

She nodded again and Cas squeezed her shoulder as Eileen walked through the door. 

“Say good night, Finn,” Eileen said, and so Finley gave both of them reluctant hugs before retreating to her room.

“Til next time, peanut!” Cas called after her.

“She gets as cranky as you when you’re sleepy,” Dean teased, poking Cas on the side. Cas batted his hand away with a grunt. 

“She really missed you two,” Eileen smiled. “I know you’re both busy, but it means a lot to her when you come over. I think she gets bored with me and Sam.”

“Sammy I can understand,” Dean snorted. “Dude wouldn’t know an exciting conversation if it bit him in the ass.”

“I think he’s interesting,” Eileen raised a brow.

“And God bless you for that.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You’re not as much of a hot shot as you think.”

“How dare you,” Dean gasped, and Eileen chuckled at them both.

“You two are cute when you bicker,” she said, shaking her head as she grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and headed back outside. 

Dean stared after her for a minute then turned to Cas with a frown. “We really are married, aren’t we?”

Cas nodded somberly. “Indeed.”

----

“It smells like pot in here.”

Cas smirked as he brushed past Dean and into the living room, already pulling off his shoes and clothes. They were scattered across the floor with Dean following after him to pick them up. Cas wandered into the kitchen to check on his honey and Dean dumped the clothes into the hamper in the bathroom. 

He sniffed and looked at himself in the mirror. The talk at the barbeque had his mind wandering, wondering about his age and lack of...well, most things guys his age would - should - want. Wife, kids, his own house that he wasn’t renting. Funny thing was, even as he stared at his reflection, at the wrinkles starting to form and the few gray hairs scattered throughout his hair, Dean didn’t find himself wanting any of that. Well, maybe the house thing. But he couldn’t see himself with a wife, because that would mean moving on from Cas and that...that just didn’t seem likely. Unhealthy? Yes, but Dean never claimed to be put together anyway.

Still, a change wouldn’t be so bad.

“Hey…” Dean called out, lifting his shirt and tilting his head. “Do you think I should get a tattoo?”

“A...tattoo.”

“Yeah.”

Cas rounded the corner, wearing only a tight pair of boxer briefs and an oven mitt, which was holding one of the jars of honey. “You. You want to get a tattoo.”

Dean looked down at himself then dropped his shirt, shrugging. “Yeah. That’s not so crazy.”

“You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“Never wanted one before.”

“And you do now.”

“ Yes.”

Cas stared at him for a minute, tilting his head. “Well. I think...if you want a tattoo, you should get a tattoo.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, watching Cas’s face. “You don’t think...I’d catch crap for it or anything?”

“I think that if you want to get a tattoo, it shouldn’t matter what anyone else thinks about it.” Cas stared right back at him, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I could go with you, if you want.”

“I don’t want to make a big thing of it.” Dean shrugged.

“Very well. Offer’s there.” Cas gestured toward him and started back around to the kitchen. “C’mon. Keep me company.”

Dean took a deep breath and followed after him. He wasn’t sure if the double entendre had been dropped on Cas’s end yet or not, but Cas seemed resigned to let Dean figure that one out on his own. 

“So, uh…” Dean hoisted himself up onto the counter, leaning his head back against the cabinet. “Have any ideas about what I should get?”

“That decision should be entirely yours.” Cas carefully lifted the warm jars out of the crockpot, drying each one with a towel before sitting them all on the counter. “If you insist on my help, we could look through some books I have of different Wiccan symbols and their meanings, things like that.”

“Yeah, okay…” Dean trailed off, chewing on his lip as he watched Cas inspect his jars with his cute squint. “We should both get one. You know, together.”

Cas paused and blinked at Dean, quirking a brow. “Like...matching?”

“Not necessarily,” Dean shrugged and tugged at the edge of his shirt. “I know you’ve always wanted one and it’d be a cool thing to do together.”

“I...well, I’m not sure I’ll have the money for-”

“I’ll pay for them,” Dean said easily. His bank account would yell at him later, but whatever. 

Cas stared at him, smiling slowly as he turned back to his jars. “You’re really gay sometimes.”

“Says the one with the dolly.”

“That you’re afraid to death of.”

“She’s fucking creepy , dammit!”

Cas laughed and waved his mitt covered hand. “Alright. I’ll bring my book to bed tonight and we can look over it together. Get our bestie tattoos.”

“I fucking hate you.”

Nevertheless, a few hours later found Dean and Cas sprawled across the bed, flipping through a glossy book filled with information on Wiccan beliefs and symbols. Dean had never heard Cas classify himself as a Wiccan, or anything really, but a lot of what he was seeing seemed to be what Cas generally practiced.

“Are you a witch?” Dean asked suddenly, frowning thoughtfully at a symbol described as the Triple Goddess. 

“Yes,” Cas said seriously, turning to Dean with a wide stare. “I’ve put a spell on you...and now you’re mine.”

“I fucking knew you liked that movie.”

“The song is catchy,” Cas mumbled, turning back to the book.

“Uh huh.”

“What about this one?” Cas turned the book to show him a drawing of a pentagram surrounded by flames. “It’s an anti-possession tattoo, which is meant to quite literally protect you from being possessed by demons, but...I dunno. Kinda a profound idea, in my opinion. Symbolically, anyway.”

“It’s cool,” Dean said, leaning in close to get a better look. “Yeah, I like it.”

“It’s fitting, getting it with you,” Cas said, “considering you quite literally saved me from my demons years ago. Still do, actually.”

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face to hide his blush and pushed himself up off the bed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking over to one of Cas’s shelves to look at his various stones and crystals. He grabbed a few and immediately proceeded to drop one, bobbling it a little before catching it and carefully placing them back under Cas’s warning glare.

“Yeah,” Dean said finally, voice a little strained. He cleared his throat. “Well, I...I dunno about that, but I think I like it. I think we should do it.”

“Okay.” Cas closed the book and sat up, stretching his arms over his head, a few bones cracking. “So, I let the guys know you’d be coming to the next one.”

“Next...one?”

Cas stared knowingly at him, raising a brow.

“ Oh.”

“But, y’know,” Cas continued, “if you change your mind, there’s still time to back out. None of them are actually convinced you’re really gonna come, anyway, so...no pressure.”

“I’m going ,” Dean growled, immediately bristling over Cas’s tone. Guy didn’t sound too convinced he’d show up either. 

“Okay, okay,” Cas held his hands up. “Whatever you say.”

Dean glanced around Cas’s room as the guy packed up his books. Cas’s room was ever changing, cluttered with weird crap but never actually dirty. His dresser was covered with crystals, candles, incense, and other things that Dean didn’t have names for or knew what their purpose was. Swanhilda was nowhere to be seen, but that only made Dean anxious and waiting for the demon doll to pop up at any minute.

“My bed?” Cas asked, leaning back on his hands.

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, climbing under the covers next to Cas. The guy put some new age music on low and turned off the lights before he plastered himself to Dean’s side.

“Have a good day?” Cas murmured into his ear, pressing a kiss to Dean’s neck. 

“It was alright,” Dean sighed, closing his eyes and breathing in the many aromas of Cas’s room.

“I could make it better…”

“Oh?” Dean cracked open an eye. “You know I gotta get up pretty early.”

“My hard-working man,” Cas chuckled, letting his hand slip down Dean’s stomach. “You don’t have a spare moment to let me make you come?”

“Mmm, what’d you have in mind?”

“Well, I don’t wanna keep you up too late-”

“Cas.”

Cas chuckled, slipping a hand under Dean’s waistband. “You could fuck my mouth.”

And fuck , if those weren’t the hottest words ever coming out of Cas’s mouth. Dean swallowed, throat dry.

“Yeah. Alright.” 

Dean didn’t have to see Cas to know he was smiling. He rolled to his back and Dean turned, slipping off his boxers without much thought and taking himself in hand. All it took was a few quick pumps and the idea of being buried in Cas’s hot mouth to get him hard, and he pulled himself to his knees while Cas splayed out beside him.

Cas motioned him forward and reached out, pulling on Dean’s leg until he got the hint and practically straddled his head. Cas licked his lips and tentatively pressed them to the head of Dean’s cock, looking innocently up at him, fingers pressing into Dean’s thighs.

Dean guided his cock inside, sighing softly when Cas sealed his lips around him. He paused, holding himself up with one hand on the wall, looking down at the gorgeous sight below him. Better than he could’ve ever conjured up on his own.

Dean sank in until he felt Cas’s throat constrict around him. It drew a choked gasp, and Dean let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut. Cas laved his tongue over his shaft and Dean jerked slightly, groaning.

“ Fuck, Cas…”

Cas gave his thigh a squeeze, looking up at him intently, and even Dean understood the implication.

Move.

Dean cupped the side of Cas’s face and pumped his hips shallowly, breathing harsh as Cas moaned around him. He felt the nails on his thigh digging in sharply and he took the hint, moving a little faster, pushing in a little deeper. The sight of his cock disappearing into Cas’s tight mouth was too fucking good, so Dean closed his eyes. That made it almost worse, because now all he had to focus on was the feel of it, the wet heat, the slippery tongue, the gentle graze of teeth, the suction that honestly was probably better than any porn star. 

Dean yelped when Cas slapped his ass. His eyes flew open and he stared down at Cas, wide-eyed and jaw hanging open. Cas was glaring up at him, clearly annoyed, and the nails dug in so hard Dean wouldn’t be surprised if there was blood. He got the message, though:

Harder . 

Dean clenched his jaw and snapped his hips, drawing a groan from both of them. He set a hard, but slow pace, one hand braced on the wall and the other softly stroking Cas’s cheek. He probably shouldn’t, should probably take his hand away, but his emotions always leaked out when he was with Cas. He may be fucking the man’s face, seconds from coming down his throat, but damn if he still couldn’t help from showing a little tenderness. 

Cas moved his hands to Dean’s ass and squeezed, making him jerk, and he pulled him closer still, swallowing around him. Tears sprang to his eyes and he choked, but he didn’t let up, taking all Dean would give him. Dean tried to pull back to let the guy catch a breath but Cas stopped him, and it was all it took to have him spilling down his throat. Cas moaned through it, eyes rolling back, writhing languidly beneath him. He swallowed around Dean and took a gasping breath when Dean finally pulled out.

Dean braced himself against the wall with both hands, panting as he looked down at a wrecked Cas beneath him. “You alright?”

Cas chuckled breathlessly and shoved lightly at Dean, laying a hand over his own chest when Dean shifted off of him. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his eyes and grinning lazily.

“I’m good.” He cracked one eye open, looking over at Dean. “You?”

“Good, uh,” Dean scratched at the top of his head, “fuckin’ great, actually.”

“Well, good,” Cas said, eyebrows slightly raised. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe you’re not quite as soft as I thought.”

Dean snorted.

“And if you liked that, then you’ll love our next...uh, thing. You know.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to think of that, much less how to respond. He looked down at Cas’s cock, still laying hard against his stomach. “You didn’t, uh-”

“It’s fine. You have to sleep, remember? Early start tomorrow.” Cas smirked over at him. “Besides, with that memory, I could make myself come without even touching my dick.”

“That’s impossible. You’d need, you know,” Dean gestured with his hands, “something.”

“Not impossible. I’ve done it.”

“Bullshit.”

Cas shook his head. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I didn’t know you could do that!”

Cas raised a brow at him. “Why would I ever have told you before that I could do that?”

“I dunno, man,” Dean whined, flopping down onto his back and scrubbing at his face. “You call me at work to tell me you’ve got a butterfly on your dick-”

“You know he visited me again while I checked on the bees-”

“And you tell me when you have those profound dreams that always end up giving me nightmares-”

“-and I’m pretty sure he has a crush on me now-”

“-so yeah,” Dean glared at him, “I kinda thought you’d tell me when you discovered a way to magically come without hands or anything.”

“It’s not magic,” Cas chuckled. “You ever heard of tantric sex?”

“Uh.”

“Okay, well, it’s sort of like that,” Cas shrugged. “It’s...meditative.”

“I don’t really get it.”

“I’ll explain it to you one day,” Cas murmured, turning on his side and smiling at Dean sleepily. 

“Sex ed with professor Cas,” Dean smirked. “Lucky me. Will there be a test?”

“Is this some weird fantasy of yours?”

“It’s starting to be.”

“Go to sleep, Dean.”

----

Since Dean’s alarm went off a few minutes after five the next morning, Cas was obviously still asleep, sprawled haphazardly across the bed with a pillow half covering his face and one leg sticking out of the covers. Dean shut off his alarm and scrubbed his hands over his face, rolling over toward Cas and just blankly staring for a moment, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. He leaned over slowly, just barely brushing fingers over Cas’s abdomen as he pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

Cas sniffed and stretched, flopping over to his belly and snuggling back under the covers. Dean reluctantly pulled himself from the warmth of the bed and padded to his own room, quickly dressing for the day. His phone declared it was a measly 29 degrees outside, so Dean opted for a pair of long johns under his jeans and shirt, and he hoped between them and his jumpsuit he’d have enough to keep him warm in the old drafty shop. That and the ancient heater Bobby let them use, if only for a few hours to knock the chill off the place.

He made himself coffee to go and reset the coffeemaker for eleven. If Cas wasn’t up by then, the smell of coffee would wake him. He grabbed his mug and keys and locked the door behind him.

He was the first in, as usual, and Bobby filed in about twenty minutes after him. Benny was there by six and Ash would mosey in around eight. Dean’s first job of the day was new brakes on Mrs. Talbot’s Mercedes, so he threw himself into it, doing his best not to think of Cas and whatever the hell was going on between them now. Of course, trying not to think of Cas was always a fruitless effort.

And of course, thinking of Cas inevitably lead to thinking of their upcoming event , which put Dean in a sour mood for the whole morning. Benny seemed to sense this and kept his distance while he worked to rebuild a radiator in an old truck. Dean’s attitude didn’t ease until lunch, forcing his mind to focus on the approach of Thanksgiving. For whatever reason, this was a big holiday for the Winchester family. Everyone got together, ate and drank too much, and passed out in various spots around the house. Last year Dean had found Cas sleeping like a baby in the tub, still clutching his plate of apple pie. 

Cas was usually involved in a lot of the cooking. He and Mary made a good team in the kitchen while Dean, Sam, and John shouted at the tv and whatever football game was playing. Dean had used to help with the pies, but Mary had finally banned him a few years ago when she realized he ate more than he baked. 

“What’s got you so deep in thought today?” Benny asked finally as he ambled into the cramped office. Dean was at the desk, feet propped up as he munched on a sandwich and a bag of chips.

“Who says I’m deep in thought?” Dean muttered.

“You’ve barely said two words for the last five hours,” Benny snorted, folding his arms and leaning on the wall.

“Mm…” Dean hummed, crunching down on a chip and taking a swig of his Pepsi.

“Somethin’ happen on vacation?”

Dean swallowed and looked down at his lap. Jesus, that was a loaded question. He hadn’t lied to Cas. He really didn’t feel like their relationship was very different now. There was no awkwardness, no tense moments. They were still...them. But they couldn’t deny that something big had changed between them on that trip. 

“Yeah,” was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He sighed and closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly.

Benny’s brows shot up. “You said yeah?”

Dean looked at him, eyes downturned in the corners. “You asked.”

Benny took a few steps toward with his eyes plastered to Dean, a hand out to feel his way into a chair. He sat down, leaning forward in his seat. “Tell me.”

Dean snorted. “You want all the details?”

Benny shrugged, holding his hands out briefly before clasping them back together. “Just the ones that matter.”

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, tossed his sandwich and chips onto the desktop. “I dunno how it happened, man. I mean, I’m...I wasn’t... blind, I guess, to how I felt about him before, but...now that I think about it, I honestly don’t know if it was me or him that wanted it. That, you know, started it. Everything was fine, normal, everything was the way things always are with us, then all of a sudden…” he shook his head, tonguing the back of his top teeth. 

Benny frowned. “Well...you guys fightin’, or somethin’?”

“What? No.”

Benny shrugged. “Just askin’. You’re making it sound like all this was a bad thing.”

“No no, it’s just...I don’t know what we are , Benny. Well, no, that’s not true. I know we aren’t...what I want us to be. And things are the same, right? It’s like nothin’ ever happened, except I know it did, because we’re still...y’know-”

“Got it.”

Dean blushed but powered through, looking down at his hands. “But Cas has been so fuckin’ cavalier about the whole thing, and I can’t pin him down. I know it’s not that he doesn’t care but his... nonchalance is fuckin’ maddening.”

“He’s always been a little, ah, loose with that sort of thing,” Benny shrugged, watching Dean carefully. “You knew that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean huffed, tugging at his hair. “But...I dunno. I guess since it was... me , he might be…”

“Less nonchalant?” Benny quirked a brow. 

“He’s still doin’ his fuckin’ orgies,” Dean said bitterly, clasping his hands together and squeezing them. 

“Did you expect him to stop?” Benny snorted. “C’mon, brother. Cas cares about you, probably the only one he does care about, but he’s never been one for monogamy.”

“Yeah…” Dean muttered, looking down at the floor.

“And did you tell him...how you felt?” Benny asked quietly.

“No,” Dean laughed humorlessly. “Jesus, I don’t even know how he would react if he knew.”

“He’s not cruel, Dean,” Benny said softly, tilting his head. “Maybe if he knew, he wouldn’t be so-”

“No, absolutely not,” Dean firmly shook his head. “It would ruin everything. I’d lose my best friend. We would never be the same.”

Benny sighed and looked away, rubbing at his fuzzy chin. “I don’t exactly see this endin’ very well either, Dean. You wear your heart on your sleeve and you’re just gonna get hurt.”

“Worried about me, Benny?” Dean teased, trying to lighten his dampening mood. 

“Yeah,” Benny said seriously. “I am. I know you, Dean. You can’t do the no-strings-attached thing. Especially with him.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean pursed his lips and looked down at his hands, clasping them again between his knees. “Can’t tell him, either. What we got now, it’s good. It’s working for us. It’s not what I…” he cleared his throat, “not what I want, exactly. But if I tell ‘im, it’ll ruin us. And I c- I can’t risk that. I need him. And he needs me. So yeah. I can’t...can’t do that.”

“You realize how all that sounds, right?”

Dean blinked down at his hands, huffing a laugh. “Yeah. I do.”

Benny smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I still think you should tell ‘im. I don’t see him goin’ anywhere regardless, but...who knows? Maybe you’ll be surprised to find out he feels the same way. Not that I’d be surprised by that, but…” he shrugged.

Dean shook his head, using the arms of his chair to push himself back up in his seat. “I dunno, man. Fuck, what would I say? ‘I want you to stop havin’ orgies ‘cause I’ve been in love with you since the first time I ever stared into your stupid blue eyes’?”

Benny chuckled. “You may wanna try a bit of a different approach, but yeah.”

“I can’t tell him what to do. He’s an adult.” Dean shook his head, tongue resting on the back of his teeth. “Honestly, I dunno if the guy is even capable of...giving me what I want. I’ve literally never known him any other way. He’s never mentioned secretly wanting to get married, or have a family, or...nothin’. I have no fuckin’ clue what he wants.”

Benny sat in silence for a moment, finally sighing and pushing himself up out of his chair. “Alright, chief. I’m gonna get back out there. But I’m serious, I think you need to really consider how good clearing the air might be for you. If you really want him.”

Benny tapped a finger against the desk before he turned and left. Dean leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, scrubbing his hands over his face. The thought of telling Cas how he felt made him anxious, but not as bad as the idea of not telling him. He truly couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life like this, so close and so far away, having everything he wants and simultaneously none of it at all.

The rest of work went much the same. Dean brooding as he worked on old beat up cars after another. Bobby would have said something, but broody Dean equals very productive Dean. He ended up getting so much done that Bobby sent him home on time . So around 6 that evening, Dean was already on his way back to his and Cas’s little cabin. 

He damn near died when he walked in, stopping in his tracks and staring at Cas who was currently bent in some yoga position in the middle of the living room. He was wearing those tight little shorts and nothing else, his ass in the air and his forehead pressed to the mat. 

“Uh,” was Dean’s greeting.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, his voice slightly muffled. 

“You, uh…” Dean cleared his throat as he tossed his keys and wallet on the kitchen counter. “Doin’ some yoga there?”

“Mm…” Cas shifted into another position, one that was equally as frustrating to Dean’s libido as the previous one. “Care to join me?”

“I don’t know how to do that shit,” Dean snorted.

“I could show you.”

“‘I’m sure you could show me a lot of things,” Dean murmured, grabbing a beer from the fridge. 

“You have no idea.”

Dean blushed, not having realized Cas had heard him, and plopped down on the couch. He sipped at his beer, watching Cas bend into another position.

“You just gonna watch me?” Cas asked, a smirk on his lips. 

“Maybe,” Dean smirked back. 

“Creep.”

“You could have done this in your room,” Dean argued. “You purposely chose to do this now, in the living room, knowing I’d be home soon.”

Cas groaned as he straightened, brushing his hands together. “Maybe.”

“Uh huh.”

Cas grinned over at him as he tried to catch his breath, waving Dean over. “C’mere. Please.”

“No.”

“C’mon.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Dean-”

“Cas.”

Cas huffed and rested his hands on his hips, tonguing the inside of his cheek. “C’mon. It’ll feel good.”

“I haven’t stretched since high school, buddy. Not happening.” 

“Which is exactly why it’ll feel good,” Cas insisted, crossing over to him and tugging on one of his hands. “C’mon. C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon-”

“Jesus! If I come over there for five minutes will you leave me alone?”

“Yes.”

Dean rolled his eyes and groaned childishly as he got to his feet, taking a swig of his beer as Cas pulled him to the center of the room. Cas smiled, clasping his hands together in front of him. 

“Okay, now assume downward-facing dog.”

“What the fuck- ”

Cas didn't wait around to see exactly what Dean's gripe was, instead maneuvering him into the aforementioned position. He moved behind him, molding himself to Dean’s back, reaching his arms as far down Dean’s as he could.

“Don’t let yourself slouch. Breathe deep, in and out, slowly.” 

Dean did as he was told, completely unwilling to admit how good the small stretch felt. Especially since Cas was pressed up behind him, unable to deny the effect Dean was having on him, if the hardness against Dean’s backside was any indication. Cas let out a slow, audible breath as he straightened again, tapping Dean on the small of his back.

“Now I want you to slowly shift to your left, stretching your right leg out straight and reaching your right arm up toward the ceiling. You should be balanced on your left foot and hand. Just...yeah, that’s it. Now point your left foot a little this way...good. Stretch up…” Cas adjusted Dean’s right arm for him, then stepped back to observe. “Perfect. Beautiful. Hold that for fifteen seconds, stretching the whole time...then go back to downward dog on a slow exhale.”

Fifteen seconds didn’t sound that long, but Dean was trembling by the time Cas had murmured ‘fifteen’ lowly. Dean released a breath he didn’t know he was holding and resumed the downward dog position. Cas talked him through a small breathing exercise then instructed him into a new position, this one called the bridge. 

“Roll onto your back,” Cas said. “Palms flat by your side...feet flat, yes...spread your knees a little.” He tilted his head, gently adjusting Dean’s legs and nodding. “Now lift just your hips and lower back. There you go...hold for fifteen seconds.”

“Dammit, Cas,” Dean huffed.

“Remember to breathe,” Cas said gently, ignoring Dean’s annoyed glare. “In and out...c’mon, Dean, breathe on my count. In...out...in...there you go, out…”

Dean’s impromptu yoga lesson lasted much longer than five minutes, but he had to very begrudgingly admit that he felt a lot better afterwards. The twinge in his back that always flared up after work was gone, the tension in his shoulders lessened, and his head felt a little clearer. Cas even had the decency to not look too smug about it and started on dinner. Spaghetti, garlic toast, and a simple salad. Dean was pretty sure he’d live off of frozen dinners and fast food burgers if it weren’t for Cas. 

“We could make this a routine if you’d like,” Cas said from the kitchen as he browned the meat. “Start you off with a session once a week. Then eventually you could do fifteen minutes every day.”

“I think you’re just trying to make me flexible like you for your weird, freaky sex,” Dean mumbled, flipping through Netflix.

“Don’t need you flexible to have weird, freaky sex with you,” Cas said, breaking up the beef with a spatula. 

Dean clicked his tongue. “Good point.”

“Do I need to make anything for Thursday?”

Dean blinked at the tv, frowning as he settled on a crime documentary he knew Cas would enjoy. “Thursday?”

“Thanksgiving.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You okay?” Cas asked, rounding the corner and tilting his head at Dean. 

“Yeah, just-” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbed at his eyes, “sorry. Busy day, tired. Uh...I think mom and Eileen are mostly handlin’ it, but I’ll ask Sam if they need anything. Oh!”

“Hm?”

“Would you make that derby pie I like?”

Cas smirked, tilting his head toward the kitchen. “Already picked up the stuff for it. I’ll never forget it again since that last Thanksgiving. You know, the one where you got super drunk and threatened to never speak to me again when you realized there was no pie and Lisa got mad and left-”

“Yeah, Cas, I remember. Thanks for that.”

“Anytime.”

In fact, Dean wished he could forget that Thanksgiving. He’d been late picking Lisa up because he was cleaning Cas up from his night out before, and they’d gotten into a huge fight about it in the backyard of his parents’ house while Dean watched Rufus deep fry the turkey. When Cas had asked what was wrong, Dean panicked and blew up about the pie, which he was only reasonably upset about. Lisa stormed out in front of everyone, leaving Dean to answer for it, and Cas avoided him for the next couple of weeks. It wasn’t a month later that Lisa was at their cabin for the last time, gathering what was left of her things. 

“What kind of drama do you think will happen this time?” Cas asked with a grin.

“Who knows?” Dean sighed, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Always guessing with you around.”

“Hey, I resent that,” Cas pouted. 

“Too bad,” Dean grunted, pushing up his shirt to scratch at his belly. “You ooze drama, Cas.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re fuckin’ weird, that’s why. And my girlfriends never seem to like you.”

“Well…” Cas said slowly, dumping angel hair into a pot full of water and setting it on high to boil. “You don’t have a girlfriend this time.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I just mean,” Cas said with a sigh, “that...the only reason Thanksgiving was so dramatic was because your girlfriends would pick fights with you on purpose.”

“They weren’t on purpose, Cas.”

“Yes, they were,” Cas clicked his tongue as he stirred the meat. “Lisa thought that if she caused a scene, you might just let her have her way to keep the peace. Send me away to keep her appeased and make it a happy family Thanksgiving.”

“You are family.”

“The girls you seem to date don’t think so.”

Dean frowned and twisted, looking over at Cas and biting his lip. “Lisa wasn’t that bad…”

“Mmm, maybe not at the beginning,” Cas shrugged. “But I seem to eventually grate on everyone’s nerves.”

“You do make a habit of it.”

Cas glared over at him and Dean chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m kidding. Look, hey.” Dean got up and walked over to him, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on Cas’s shoulder. “They just didn’t get you, man. That’s their problem. You’re family, and you’re not goin’ anywhere, so...if they weren’t okay with that, they were gonna have to go eventually, anyway.”

Cas looked pointedly down at the meat as he poked at it with the spatula. “That’s no way for you to live.”

“Served me pretty well so far,” Dean shrugged. 

“Right.”

Dean frowned. “What?”

Cas sighed, placing the spatula on the counter and twisting out of Dean’s hold. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I dunno. I was just thinkin’...maybe I should be thinking about gettin’ my own place. We’ve lived together for as long as I can remember, and we’re not gettin’ any younger, and you’re never gonna find someone when I’m hangin’ around here. I know for a lot of people I’m not...pleasant to be around. You get me and I’m appreciative of that, but it’s not fair to you to be stuck with me because we’re friends.”

“Family.”

“Yeah.” Cas rubbed at the back of his neck. “I can figure somethin’ else out. Give you a chance to have what Sam has, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know, ‘cause what you’re sayin’ is crazy-”

“Dean-”

“No, Cas, you-” Dean dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, nodding slightly, hands on his hips. “If I’d...wanted that, if I thought you were keepin’ me from that, I would’ve gotten my own place years ago. I like livin’ with you. And frankly, if people I’m seein’ don’t like you, I don’t wanna be with them anyway. ‘Cause you’re...you’re my best friend. I’m not lettin’ that go for anybody.”

Cas looked up at him through his lashes, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You’re an idiot.”

Dean grinned and nodded. “I know.”

Cas licked his lips. “But if it ever becomes a problem-”

“It won’t, but yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. You start datin’ and it gets serious, I’m outta here.”

“Noted.” Dean nodded again, then looked down as he picked a piece of lint absently from his shirt. “Cas, you know...I’m...um. I think I…” he looked up, into Cas’s eyes, which regarded him with compassion, patience, understanding...same as they always did. He wanted to tell him; tell Cas how he felt, why he never worried about finding anyone anymore, why he planned on living with his best friend for the rest of his life. How much the idea of that thrilled him. But Dean’s breath hitched and he lost all confidence he’d built to push himself to say it, so he dropped his head again and cleared his throat. 

“What?”

“Nothin’, I, uh...I forgot what I was gonna say.” He met Cas’s gaze briefly and gave him a quick smile, shaking his head. “Nevermind.”

Cas pursed his lips, but let it drop there. He finished cooking in relative silence, Dean hovering in the kitchen and probably brushing his hands against him too many times to really count as an accident. But whatever, right? Can’t expect the guy to have a conversation about Cas moving out and not want a little physical contact. He was chalking it up to emotional vulnerability and not because he just couldn’t stand not touching Cas.

Dean popped the garlic bread into the oven while Cas tossed a garden salad- some of the ingredients having coming right from their backyard. Dinner made, documentary ready to go, they both sat on the couch and ate in mostly silence broken occasionally by a comment or two about the show.

“Finish your salad,” Cas said, pointing to the still half full bowl.

“Ugnnhh,” was Dean’s very mature reply.

“Finish it.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dean made a face, pushing the bowl away.

“Then I guess you’re not getting dessert,” Cas shrugged.

“Wait,” Dean licked his lips, glancing at Cas. “What’s for dessert?”

“Me.”

Dean blinked then sagged his shoulders in defeat, grumpily pulling the bowl back towards him and stabbing his fork inside. Cas grinned smugly and Dean fantasized stabbing his fork into those stupid blue eyes.

“There,” Dean said several minutes later, sliding his empty bowl onto the coffee table. Cas was still finishing up his food slowly, staring straight ahead at the tv as he chewed. “Done.”

The re-enactment on the documentary was surprisingly bloody and violent considering it was just that- a re-enactment- but Cas seemed largely unphased by it, only tilting his head to the side with a small frown. 

“That’s good, Dean.”

Dean pulled a leg up on the couch with him, turning his body to face Cas, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. “So I’m, um...ready for dessert now.”

“Oh?”

“Mmm.” Dean licked his lips, eyes catching on Cas’s when his tongue darted out to lick a drop of sauce from his thumb. “I mean, if you were serious.”

“I was.”

“...mkay.” Dean frowned and looked around awkwardly, sighing softly. “So you wanna-”

“I’m going to finish eating my dinner first.” Cas cut his eyes over at him, resisting the smile that was trying to pull at the corners of his mouth.

Dean blushed. “Right. ‘Course.”

Cas chuckled, leaning forward to sit his dishes on the coffee table. He stood and held out his hand. “I’m kidding. Let’s go.”

“Asshole.” Dean smirked and took Cas’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. Cas smirked back and turned, pulling his shirt over his head as he made his way to Dean’s bedroom. Dean stepped in after him, shedding his own shirt, but Cas froze, frowned, and held up a finger, stepping around him.

“I’ve just...I gotta see why this dude killed his wife first.”

“Cas-”

Cas disappeared out the door without another word, leaving Dean standing there with a dumbfounded look on his face, staring straight ahead at his own bed. He shook his head, toeing off his shoes, his hands falling to his belt. He sat down and pulled each sock off slowly, pressing his thumbs into the ball of his foot, groaning softly. Part of him wished Cas would work that fucking magic on his feet like he did last time, but there were about a million other things Dean wanted more from Cas right now than a foot massage.

“Love triangle. A fucking love triangle!” Cas exclaimed as he walked back in, throwing his hands up. “So unoriginal. Dean, will you please promise me that, if you kill me one day, it will be for something much more original and interesting than a love triangle?”

Dean nodded, looking thoughtfully up at him. “Definitely. It will probably be because of your smoking in the house, or scaring me with creepy dolls, or maybe I’ll even snap one of these days when I come home to find the sink full of dishes. It could truly be anything.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about! I want people who hear about it to wonder which thing it could have possibly been.”

Dean snorted. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“Great.” Cas stretched his arms over his head, tilting back and forth. “Okay, how do you want me?”

Dean froze, placing his foot back flat on the floor. “What?”

“What do you want to do to me?”

“I’m…” Dean swallowed, looking Cas up and down, shaking his head. “I don’t-”

“It’s really not a hard question, Dean.” Cas sighed and sat on the bed beside him, clasping his hands between his knees and shrugging. “I feel like I always kinda dictate and...I want you to do what you want tonight. Whatever you want. It can be some crazy shit, if you’re into that. You want me to act like a whore? I’ll act like a whore. I’ll...roleplay. I dunno. Whatever you’re into.”

“I’m not into weird shit like you, Cas,” Dean chuckled nervously. He couldn’t do what he wanted to do to Cas...not really. Having Cas the way he wanted meant baring himself, baring his true feelings, and he couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t bear to see the look in Cas’s eyes when his best friend chose to make love to him, to touch him and kiss him...to show him how much he loves him.

“Okay, well...I don’t judge. So it’s all on you tonight. Do with that what you will.”

Dean licked his lips and suddenly grinned, chuckling to himself. “So, if I asked you to slap me around while wearing a Zorro mask, you would?”

Cas raised a brow, but otherwise did not change his expression. “It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve done, so sure. Do you have the mask or-”

“Jesus, Cas, I was kidding.”

“Oh,” Cas blinked, looking strangely disappointed. “Okay then.”

“Look,” Dean sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve just never...experimented like that. Mostly ‘cause I...well, I kinda like soft fucking. Don’t give me that look. Hard and fast is awesome, too, but it can be nice to just….you know, make it about the person, not the fucking.”

“You’re talking about making love.”

“No,” Dean insisted, because he wasn’t, thank you very much. “I’m talking about not worrying what position to use or which toy to play with. I’m just saying it can be intense on its own when you focus on the person instead.”

Cas pursed his lips and clasped his hands, looking down at them as he twisted his fingers. “That sounds...intimate.”

“Well, isn’t that, uh...tantric sex intimate?”

Cas’s face cleared up a bit and he nodded thoughtfully. “Ah, yes...I suppose so. Are you saying that’s what you want to try?”

“Sure,” Dean said casually, barely concealing the fact that he was leaping on the chance to actually have a smidgen of what he truly wanted from Cas. “Not, uh...full blown or whatever. I heard that can take hours and I ain’t got that kind of stamina.” No doubt Cas did, though, the fucker. “Just...a beginner’s course.”

Cas raised his eyebrows and took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out on his exhale. “Okay.” He looked briefly around the room, frowning. “Alright. Okay. First, um, just...sit in the middle of the bed, and cross your legs.”

Dean did as he was told, clasping his hands in his lap. Cas ruffled his own hair and stood, chewing his lip as he looked briefly around the room. He joined Dean on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed in front of him, and held out his hands, palm up, looking expectantly at Dean.

Dean slowly raised his hands, laying them gently on top of Cas’s.

“So tantra means ‘woven together’,” Cas started softly, looking down at their hands. “Buddhists practiced it as a way to tie our physical bodies with our spiritual bodies.” He turned his hands against Dean’s until their fingers pointed up toward the ceiling. He spread them and Dean’s followed, and Cas looked past their hands, up at Dean. 

“So,” Dean’s voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat. “What, uh...what do we do now?”

Cas tilted his head, the look on his face a little strange, like nothing he’d really ever seen from him before. “Now we...um. We just...stare. I guess? Fuck, I...I’m sorry. I’ve never really done this with anyone else.”

“But you said-”

“I’ve done the practices on my own!” Cas said defensively. “But it’s deeply intimate, Dean, and I...you know I don’t do that with people.”

Dean blanched. “Well, we don’t have to-”

“No, I want to, I just…” Cas swallowed and shook his head. “Just bear with me. Okay?”

Dean wanted to argue, but he just shut his mouth and nodded.

“So we’ll just...we look into each other’s eyes. Stare. Don’t worry about anything else, don’t let your eyes move. Don’t shift focus back and forth like you tend to do when looking at people.” He gave Dean a look. “It’s distracting, and this won’t work if you do that. You were a fan of Poe, correct?”

“The poet? Uh, not exactly.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “So Poe believed the eyes are the windows to the soul. You have to think like that while attempting to connect this way. You have to imagine that you’re looking into my soul.” He threaded their fingers together slowly, hands still between them, and nodded encouragingly. 

Dean looked uncertain, but he took a deep breath and nodded slowly. The room was quiet, the only sound coming from the nightly critters roaming around outside and the occasional gust of wind that pushed against the window. Dean focused on Cas’s eyes, which was actually pretty easy to do. It was true; he did tend to shift his gaze when he looking on at someone face to face. With Cas, however, he had a habit of getting lost in that blue gaze. Usually he had to fight that urge, so it was a welcome relief to fall into the tidal wave. 

Dean wasn’t a spiritual person like Cas. Didn’t think about souls or energies or chakras. He had a pretty good imagination, though, so he simply imagined what Cas’s soul would look like. It would be bright, of course. Probably blue, like his eyes, a million different shades of it to make a completely new color that was uniquely Cas. And beautiful. So beautiful that Dean would never be able to look directly at it without his eyes burning from the sheer intensity. It would be warm to the touch, caressing him like silk, fluttering against his skin gently. 

Or maybe it wouldn’t be gentle at all. Dean always associated Cas’s eyes with drowning, because he always felt like he couldn’t breathe when he looked into them. Maybe his soul was more like a tsunami crashing down on him, relentless and a force of nature that Dean had no hope of contending with.

“You...are thinking very hard about something,” Cas murmured quietly, breaking Dean out of his reverie.

“Uh…” Dean cleared his throat, his fingers twitching against Cas’s. “Just...you know, lookin’ at your soul. Or tryin’ to, anyway.”

Cas quirked a smile, something so genuine and beautiful that Dean couldn’t breathe for a moment. 

“Really,” Cas hummed, licking his lips. “And what do you see?”

“A...storm,” Dean mumbled, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment. Cas’s expression remained open as he nodded in encouragement. “Like, uh...out at sea,” Dean continued, “and it’s surrounding me...drowning me.”

“Drowning you?” Cas asked, a bit alarmed.

“But in a good way,” Dean smiled. “Overwhelming, you know? You’re...just, a lot.”

Cas licked his lips and sighed softly, leaning forward to press his lips to his and Dean’s hands, smiling against them, still staring into Dean’s eyes.

“What do you see?” Dean whispered, staring right back. As if he could look away even if he wanted to.

“Contentment,” Cas said, then frowned and shook his head. “No, happiness. I dunno. Just makes me feel...really safe. And warm. Like home.”

“Mmm.”

“Breathe with me,” Cas said, and Dean inhaled deeply with him, exhaling in sync, repeating it over and over, until it became second nature. They lowered their hands between them, fingers still loosely intertwined. 

“Now, um...clothes off,” Cas said quietly, so Dean reluctantly let go of his hands to stand beside him, ridding himself of his pants as Cas did the same. He sat back down in the middle of the bed, watching Cas crawl back over to him and slowly lower himself into his lap. Cas wrapped his legs securely around Dean’s waist, looping his arms around his neck.

“What now?” Dean asked, laying his palms flat on Cas’s lower back.

“More staring, more breathing,” Cas said simply, tangling a hand into Dean’s hair.

So they did, for what felt like a long time, but for some reason Dean was strangely okay with it. It was nice, it was comforting, and it was giving him the kind of attention from Cas he’d only ever dreamed he could have. It was making Cas look at him and actually see him. Maybe more of him than either of them even knew was there.

“Now,” Cas shifted in Dean’s lap, pressing close, “we exchange air. I breathe in, then out, you take my air in, then breathe out, and so on.”

Dean nodded, their faces so close that the movement brushed their noses together. It took them a few tries to gain a steady rhythm. Dean didn’t find it much different from Cas shotgunning pot into his mouth and it even made him a little fuzzy headed. 

“Not that I’m complainin’ or nothin’,” Dean said in a hushed voice, almost too afraid to speak. “But uh...how does this lead to sex?”

“Well,” Cas answered just as quietly, “tantric sex isn’t always about sex. Sometimes couples don’t even have sex. Sometimes they will spend hours building and building, enjoying the connection.”

“Really?”

“Mmm,” Cas nodded, bringing their foreheads together as they both breathed deep. “Real tantric sex is meant to last for hours. It’s about connecting with your partner. The sex, if it happens, is usually slow. Sensual. So the foreplay leading up to it is slow.” He tilted his head. “Do you not like this?”

“No, I actually...really like it,” Dean smiled, stroking Cas’s skin. “I’m not, uh...horny or anything, but this is nice.”

“As I said, it’s supposed to build up over time,” Cas hummed. “Now, just breathe with me. Focus on us and nothing else.”

Dean took the hint and fell silent, breathing with Cas for who knew how long. Eventually Cas’s hands began to roam, pausing here and there to gently massage and caress. Dean followed his example, massaging Cas’s shoulders and back, both of them pressed close. 

“Tell me what you like,” Cas asked suddenly. 

“Uh…”

“Do you like this?” Cas wrapped a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and squeezed gently. Dean swallowed and nodded, breathing out slowly and watching Cas breathe in.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. 

“What else do you like?”

Dean breathed in shakily. “Y-your hands...in my hair.”

Cas smiled and slid his hands up, tangling his fingers into Dean’s hair and pulling slightly. “Like this?”

Dean shuddered and nodded, his hands tightening around Cas’s waist. 

“What do you like?” Dean asked after a moment, resisting the urge to close his eyes, melt into the touch. 

“I like...this,” Cas said, licking his lips, swallowing. “I like being touched. I like when you touch me.”

“Touch you how?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cas shook his head, “just touching me. Holding me.”

“Mmm.” Dean leaned back slightly, his hands sliding to Cas’s sides, squeezing. He moved them lower, to one of the many parts of Cas’s body he was obsessed with and never allowed himself to linger on. He squeezed the top of the man’s thighs, kneaded the strong muscle, watched Cas’s pupils grow and shrink every couple of minutes. “I like that, too.”

Cas huffed a nervous laugh, looking away briefly before he caught himself and looked pointedly back into Dean’s eyes. Dean himself found the eye contact to be getting easier, like he was learning new things about Cas without him having to say a word. It’s probably why he was equally fearful Cas was having the same experience. 

Cas cupped Dean’s cheek and thumbed his bottom lip, eyes flitting down to it briefly. 

“Can I kiss you now?”

Dean nodded, his answer tumbling out at the end of a breath. “Yeah.”

Cas smiled quickly and leaned in slow, bumping their foreheads together, then closing his eyes. Dean closed his too, and it felt like an eternity before Cas’s lips actually pressed against his...gentle at first, barely touching. Dean flattened his hands against Cas’s lower back and pulled him close, slotting their lips together, just the sounds of their kissing filling the room. Neither of them had even used tongue yet and Dean could feel his cock twitching in interest, but he found he was far more interested in this , in Cas a solid weight in his lap, in the little involuntary moans and gasps he was able to pull from him from something so fucking simple, in getting to know Cas in a way far surpassing physical or even the way he’d come to know him from over twenty years of friendship.

It also made Dean notice little things about Cas that he’d never noticed before. When he kissed, for example, Cas slid both hands up and into Dean’s hair, pulling him in and tugging at the strands in a way that made Dean’s heart skip. And the way he practically demanded Dean’s submission, taking over almost immediately and not giving Dean any option but to fall under his dominance. The way he tilted his head to the right, the way his scruff scratched against Dean’s skin, the way he seemed to surround Dean. All things Dean had been mildly aware of before, but now realized he’d never really experienced until now.

Dean then wondered, slightly panicked, if Cas noticed things too. Like the way Dean gently held his hips, grazed his knuckles over his thighs, slid his hands up and around his shoulders to hold him close. The way Cas’s name passed over his lips, pleading and soft and full of emotion that Dean was unable to hold in check. The way he went pliant under Cas’s touch, letting Cas lead and following blindly.

Cas’s tongue grazed his lips and Dean opened up, letting him in. Cas pushed him back and Dean let him, falling onto the sheets and sighing when their bodies slotted together. He hardly noticed their cocks pressed together, too wrapped up in Cas , who was everywhere all at once. Dean was pinned beneath him, those hands still in his hair, weight pressing down. It was slow, and soft, and the way Dean had always secretly dreamed of being with Cas. His heart stuttered again, his brain yelling that maybe he should stop, because there was no way he was going to keep his feelings in check if they kept going. But it felt so good . Maybe, maybe-

“Dean.”

Cas’s rough voice was a cold bucket of ice. Dean jerked out the trance, breathing hard, his face flushed and his lips a little sore. He swallowed and stared up at Cas, watching as he looked away, watching as he pulled away. Dean immediately missed his warmth, his skin prickling from the cool air.

“Cas-”

“I have to stop,” Cas said quietly, firmly, his knuckles white from tight fists. 

Dean’s heart hammered and he pushed up on his elbows. “I- did I do something-?”

“I just-” Cas shook his head roughly and climbed off the bed, his jaw clenched as he searched for his clothes. “I can’t. Don’t ask me again.”

Dean stared blankly at him as Cas pulled on a pair of pants. “Are we gonna...talk about this, or…?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m just…” Cas stopped with his shirt clutched in his hands, letting out a heavy sigh. “You didn’t do anything, okay? You know how I get sometimes, like, um…” he gestured to his chest, then started pulling his shirt over his head. “Y’know, panicky. I think I just need...um. Air, maybe? Just a little air or somethin’.”

He didn’t give Dean the chance to respond before leaving the room quickly, hands twitching by his sides. Dean watched him walk by the door twice before he finally heard the door slide open to the porch, and he flopped back onto the bed and scrubbed his hands down his face. It was several minutes later- when Dean’s overheated skin was prickled by goosebumps from the chill in the air- that he realized Cas had left the door open again. He slid out of bed with an annoyed groan and threw on some clothes, padding out into the living room and over to the kitchen. He quickly put on a small pot of coffee and ran some cool water into a glass, then stepped outside and slid the door closed behind him.

Cas was sitting on top of the picnic table with his feet resting on one of the benches, cigarette between two fingers. He glanced briefly over at Dean before looking back out over the yard, flicking his cigarette.

“Here.” Dean handed him the glass, and Cas gave him a small smile as he took it. 

“Thanks.”

“Supposed to be cold on Thanksgiving,” Dean said conversationally, taking a seat about a foot away, on the same side of the picnic table. “I think I have a sweater you can borrow.”

Cas chuckled, hand twitching, flicking his cigarette every few seconds. “Thanks.”

Dean looked over at him. “Do you wanna play?”

“Play what?”

“The worst case scenario game,” Dean said with a smile, and to Cas’s credit, he only had to wait a few seconds before recognition flashed on Cas’s face.

“Beth and Randall’s game?”

“Yep.”

Cas snorted and shook his head. “That could get real dark.”

“Mmm, good point.”

“Maybe some other time. Not sure it’d help with this one.”

“Right.” Dean drummed his fingers on his own knee, starting to twitch just a little himself at Cas obsessively flicking his ashless cigarette. He tapped the glass with the back of a finger, raising a brow at Cas. “Drink.”

Cas rolled his eyes but dutifully raised the glass to his lips, taking a long, slow sip. The flicking didn’t stop completely, but it was a start. He took a drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke deep and letting it billow out of his nose.

“Listen, Dean, I-”

“Whoa, hey,” Dean flapped a hand at him and shook his head, sniffing as he looked out over their yard. “You don’t have to talk about it, Cas. I shouldn’t have pushed us to do...that. It’s, uh...it’s too intimate. I’m sorry.”

Cas pressed his lips together then took another drag. They both fell silent again until Dean nudged Cas’s knee, nodding at his cigarette. 

“If you want something stronger than that, you can…” Dean shrugged. “Promise not to bitch about the smell.”

Cas snorted a small laugh, fingers twitching again. “Okay, but only if you smoke some with me.”

“Cas,” Dean groaned.

“C’mon, just a little,” Cas smashed his cigarette against the wood of the table. “I hate smoking alone.”

“Fine, but you have to bake me an extra pie on Thanksgiving.”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

“Cas.”

Dean frowned and dropped his arms when Mary pushed past him to hug Cas around his middle, cupping his cheeks as she pulled away. 

“Gee, mom, good to see you too.”

Mary smacked his arm playfully, then hugged both of them together. “Oh, stop. I just saw you yesterday. You know I worry when I don’t see either of you for awhile.”

Cas grinned and sat the container of pies on the counter. “Good to see you, mom.”

“Hey, boys,” John said, balancing a squealing little girl on his shoulders. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, dad,” Dean said, giving him a one-armed hug and pat on the back before pulling Finley from his arms. “Whatsup, kiddo?”

Finn just squealed louder in his ear, and Cas lent a hand by tickling her and therefore supplementing said screaming. Sam, bless him, finally came in and took her, no doubt giving her a stern talking-to about the noise. Cas gave John a quick hug on his way to the kitchen to see if Eileen needed any help.

“Bobby and Rufus here?” Dean asked, hanging up his and Cas’s jackets.

“Yeah,” John said, hoisting the case of beer they’d brought into his arms. “Settin’ up Rufus’s deep fryer in the backyard. Bobby’s standin’ over him with a beer in his hand instructin’ him, so...we should probably get out there soon before they start fightin’.”

“Past experience tells me we’re probably too late,” Dean chuckled, following his dad out into the yard and helping him dump the beer into a gigantic cooler filled with more ice than Dean thought was strictly necessary. 

“Bobby, I know what I’m doin-”

“It’s not supposed to look like that, ya idgit-”

Dean shook his head with a smile, grabbing a warm beer and cracking it open. “Told ya,” he muttered to his dad, taking a swig. 

“Well, I gotta admit I mostly just wanted to watch them,” John shrugged with a smirk, tapping a finger on his can. “They bicker more than your mom and I.”

“To think they’re best friends,” Dean snorted, watching Rufus threaten Bobby with the probe thermometer. 

“Well, you would know all about unorthodox friendships,” John nudged Dean with a shoulder. “Watching you and Cas is almost just as fun.”

“We don’t bicker like that.”

“No,” John agreed with a smile. “But you act like an old married couple better than actual old married couples.”

“Well he leaves his clothes everywhere ,” Dean threw up his hands. “And if I don’t pick up after him, it just piles up-”

“My point exactly,” John nodded.

“Is he bitching about me again?” Cas said as he stepped outside, carrying a platter piled with an array of crackers, cheese, and fruit. 

“Why are you always around when I do that?” Dean grumbled, snagging a piece of cheddar and popping it in his mouth.

“One of my many magical qualities,” Cas said dryly, placing the platter on one of the picnic tables.

“How many pies are you baking in there?”

Cas rolled his eyes. “Five, you greedy fuck. Apple, cherry, blueberry, chocolate creme, and pumpkin.”

Dean gaped. “That’s not eno-”

“And don’t you fuckin’ tell me it’s not enough,” Cas waved him off, already heading back inside. “That’s two more than last year.”

John gestured back and forth between them. “My point.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Dean sipped his beer, looking back just in time to see Finn jump into Cas’s arms when he walked back through the door. 

He stayed outside and talked until Rufus safely lowered the turkey into the oil, excusing himself when the conversation turned to football. Dean didn’t have much interest in sports, if he was being honest, and holidays were about the only time he half-watched football, and he just opted to cheer for whoever everyone else did.

Cas and Eileen were busy in the kitchen while Sam and Mary talked in the living room, and Finn ran back and forth between the two. It quickly became clear that Cas was feeding her a piece of fruit, or a cracker, or a small piece of cheese each time she ran to the kitchen, which Sam put a stop to when Dean pointed it out.

“Kid’s gotta eat dinner, Cas!” Sam yelled from his spot on the couch, prying a piece of cheddar from Finn’s fist. He got up and disappeared into the kitchen, Finn hot on his trail, reaching for her stolen cheese.

“She apparently didn’t get her nap today,” Mary said tiredly, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh, wonderful.”

“Mmm.” Mary folded her hands in her lap and leaned back against the couch. “How are you, my first born?”

Dean huffed. “Mom.”

“Dean, I’m your mother, and I know when something’s going on with you. Talk to me.”

Dean shifted his shoulders and looked down at his beer, shaking his head. “There’s nothin’ to tell. I work and go home. Nothin’ goin’ on in my life.”

“Well, your brother doesn’t believe that. And neither do I.”

Dean snorted. “Well...Sam doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about.”

“Should I ask Cas, then?”

“No,” Dean said, perhaps a little too quickly. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, sighing. “Look, things have just been a little weird. But everything’s gonna be fine. It’ll work out. It’s me and Cas, you know? Things always kinda work themselves out.”

“Dean,” Mary sighed, reaching out to take his hand. “I wish you would talk to me. You’ve always been so closed up, even when you were little. Maybe if you tell me what’s going on, I could help.”

“Mom, no one...gets me and Cas, okay?” Dean glanced up at the tv, blankly watching balloons float down a crowded street. Finn loved watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. “And we accept that. He’s just...weird, and sometimes our problems are weird. You just wouldn’t understand.”

“I’m very much aware that Cas is a little different,” Mary snorted. “You forget I practically raised him. I know his quirks, his...issues. But I’m a mom. There is nothing that I wouldn’t understand.”

Dean continued to stare at the screen, taking a sip of his beer, and finally shook his head. “Mom, I really...I don’t wanna get into this right now. Please. Just one day of not talking about me and Cas. That’s all I want.”

Mary sighed heavily and clasped her hands in her lap. “Fine. If that’s what you want-”

“It is.”

“Okay,” she said softly. “I won’t bring it up again. Not until you’re ready.”

Dean relaxed noticeably and nodded. “Thank you.”

The one good thing about Rufus’s turkey fryer was the short cook time, so it wasn’t even quite an hour later when Eileen announced that dinner was ready and instructed everyone to get to the table. Dean caught Cas staring at him a few times as he helped set the table, but he just gave him a small smile and returned to his work without a word. 

Sam began carving the turkey and Eileen and Cas were busy preparing everyone’s places and getting drinks, so Dean stepped in to start preparing an impatient Finley’s plate. He added small portions of green beans, mashed potatoes and gravy- only a little stuffing and macaroni and cheese, at Sam’s request- and added the first few pieces of turkey that Sam sliced to her plate. He got her situated in her seat and sat the plate in front of her, snorting to himself when she dug in without waiting for silverware, which Cas casually handed her on his next trip.

Dean took a seat beside her, nudging her arm and grinning over at her as she stuffed a piece of macaroni in her mouth. Everyone else took their seats too; Eileen on the other side of Finn, at the end of the table, Sam on the far end, Bobby across from Finn and Cas beside him, Mary on Dean’s right and John across from her, and Rufus on John’s right. The first ten minutes of dinner was unsurprisingly quiet as everyone ate, only the sounds of silverware on plates and a few satisfied hums. 

“So we, uh...we’ve got a bit of an announcement,” Sam said when conversation had only just begun to spark, suppressing a grin as he rapped his knuckles excitedly against the table. He motioned to Eileen. “Did you, um-”

“I thought we were waiting?” Eileen said through clenched teeth, with a bit of a forced smile.

“I know, but I can’t,” Sam said, chewing his lip. “Or, I mean, is it okay?”

“Chrissake, just say it,” Dean bit out, raising his brows at Sam. “What’s up?”

“We’re uh...we’re expecting again,” Sam said proudly, grinning across the table at Eileen. “It’s still early, like really early, we just found out a week ago, but...yeah. She’s got an appointment in a couple of weeks to know for sure, but...six tests are pretty positive about it.”

“That’s why I thought we were waiting,” Eileen said, blushing.

“That’s so great!” Mary clapped her hands, then put them over her mouth, eyes going squinty the way they did when she was trying not to cry. John stood and gave Sam a quick hug, and Bobby and Rufus even uttered their own congratulations. Dean was so busy watching everyone else- like from far away, like he wasn’t sitting right there with them- that finding Cas staring across the table at him was a little jarring.

Cas gave him a tight-lipped smile, dropping his eyes back to the table. Dean’s throat was dry and he moved on autopilot as he stood to hug Sam, and Cas did the same with Eileen. They passed by one another for Dean to hug Eileen and Cas to hug Sam, and the strange exchange passed between them again, sending a wave of emotion washing over Dean.

The rest of their dinner passed with friendly, excited conversation and a palpable sort of energy...for everyone except Dean, it seemed.

It wasn’t even that Dean wasn’t excited for them. He’d fully cried when he found out they were expecting Finn, and being her uncle made him endlessly happy. Which is why even he didn’t understand his contemptment this time, and he pointedly ignored Cas each time he could feel the man’s questioning eyes on him.

Dean quietly excused himself after dinner and stepped outside. He leaned up against the porch railing with his beer and looked out over the yard. He didn’t turn when he heard the door, only sparing Sam a small glance when he joined him.

“Congratulations, Sammy,” Dean said flatly, taking a swig of his beer. 

“Thanks,” Sam smiled, settling beside him with his own beer, leaning heavily against the railing, the old wood protesting his weight. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, glancing over his shoulder. “They need my help with-”

“Nah, they’ve got it,” Sam said. “Hey, look, I’m sorry if uh...we kinda stole the thunder, or whatever.”

Dean snorted. “I’ve got nothin’ goin’ for me anyway. Your good news ain’t hinderin’ me none.”

“Dean-”

“Kinda soon, though, right?” Dean asked, narrowing his eyes as he raised his beer to his lips. “I mean, Finn only just turned three-”

“Eileen and I have been married for six years, Dean. And together for nine. We knew we wanted a big family and we’re in a good place. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, sure.” Dean knew he was being an asshole but couldn’t seem to stop himself, looking down at his beer bottle as he tried- and failed- to keep himself from continuing to talk. “Just seems fast, I guess. I mean, what’s wrong with takin’ things slow? Everyone’s always so ready to move on to the next thing, doesn’t matter if it’s too fast, or doesn’t fit-”

“Excuse me?”

Dean held his hands up. “Whoa, I didn’t mean you and Eileen-”

“You know what, Dean?” Sam turned to him, tonguing the inside of his cheek, his nostrils flared the way they did when he was especially angry. “Fuck you.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Fuck me ?”

“Yeah , fuck you.” Sam turned and started to head back inside.

“What the fuck did I do?”

Sam stopped in his tracks and spun on his heel, taking a few steps back to Dean, towering over him with a finger pointing in his face. “You have no one to blame for your life bein’ the way it is but yourself. The fact that you’re miserable isn’t on me, it’s not on my family, it’s not on my unborn kid. This is on you . The only person keeping you from being happy is you. ”

Sam stood there for another few seconds like he wanted to say something else, but he finally gritted his teeth and turned away again, heading back to the door.

“Who the fuck are you to try to dictate any kind of timeline for anything to me?” Sam continued, his hand on the door. “You? Really? The guy who’s been in love with his best friend for twenty five years? But god forbid he take a risk and tell him that.”

“You don’t know what you’re-”

“Save it,” Sam bit out, sliding the door open and roughly shut behind him.

Dean stared at the glass doors for a moment before tilting his head and slowly turning back to the yard, staring blankly at the browning grass and changing leaves. Thanksgiving continued in the house, but Dean couldn’t find it in himself to go back inside. The holiday spirit had completely left him and besides, he didn’t feel much like dealing with Sammy’s bitch stares and cold shoulders. Or Mary’s questioning glances and Eileen’s concerned frown.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, Dean had long ago finished off his beer. He held the empty can between his fingers, ignoring a burst of laughter from the house. When the doors slid open, Dean didn’t turn around. When Cas came to stand next to him, leaning on the railing, Dean didn’t glance over or even acknowledge his presence. 

“You gonna come back inside?” Cas asked quietly, staring straight ahead. 

“Nah.”

Cas nodded expectedly and sniffed, glancing up at the sun through the trees. 

“What did he say to you?” he asked after a moment, his voice tight. It brought a brief smile to Dean’s face. Cas was every bit a part of the Winchester family, but his loyalty had always laid with Dean. Cas was no stranger to arguments with Sam or even John when it came to defending his friend. 

“Nothin’ worth gettin’ worked up over,” Dean muttered, pushing off the rail and tossing his can into the outside trash bin. 

“But you’re upset.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, running a hand over the back of his head. “It wouldn’t be Thanksgiving if I wasn’t.”

Cas walked up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his middle and resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. “What can I do?”

“You can get me high,” Dean said, leaning back into Cas’s embrace. “And then you can fuck me.”

“I’m assuming you don’t mean right here on the back porch.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “Wanna go home.”

“Are you drunk?”

Dean licked his lips and dug into his pocket, handing Cas the keys. “You drive, honey bee.”

Cas raised an eyebrow and Dean wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t called Cas ‘honey bee’ since high school. 

“You wanna go now?” Cas frowned, glancing at the doors. “They haven’t cut into the pie yet. Maybe-”

“Home,” Dean insisted, suddenly itching to get out of there. To get away from all the familial happiness. To get home and be with Cas, the only person who seemed to understand him. “You can bake me my own pie later.”

Cas was silent for a moment before he nodded, smiling softly. “You got it, baby.”

----

“Better now?”

“Mmm.” Dean licked a blob of cherry filling from his thumb, pushing his empty plate away from him. Cas smirked and took the plate to the sink, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the counter. 

“Sure. Pie’s always better when your best friend makes it for you at 2 a.m. and you’re-” Cas gestured vaguely to him, “working off a buzz.”

Dean snorted, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Yeah.”

Cas turned and poured them both cups of coffee, bringing them back to the table and pushing Dean’s over to him as he took a seat across from him. He took a sip, looking at Dean over the rim of his mug.

“So did you fuck up, or did he?”

Dean slid his hands down his face enough to peek at Cas through his fingers, then let his arms drop to the table as he sighed. “What makes you think either of us fucked up? Maybe we were just arguin’ because he’s my shithead little brother.”

Cas raised a brow.

“I did,” Dean said finally, fingering the handle of his mug. “I dunno why I did, but yeah.” He shook his head, chewing his lip. “I’ll, uh. Call him tomorrow. Apologize.”

Cas took another slow sip of his coffee, swallowing hard, frowning down at his mug. “So what did you do?”

“I just...wasn’t as supportive about the announcement as I should’ve been,” Dean said, deliberately ignoring the real reason behind the things he’d said. He’d never admit to anyone- least of all Sam- how right he really was when it came to Cas. So maybe he was just a little jealous of his brother getting everything he ever wanted with the person of his dreams, while Dean only barely let himself imagine how his life with Cas would be if he actually told him the truth. That is, if he even felt the same way.

God, he really was an asshole.

“I’ll call and apologize tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that sounds best.” Cas raised a challenging brow, daring Dean to defend himself. He tapped the table in front of Dean, indicating his coffee. “Drink.”

Dean tipped back his mug, chugging down most of his cup, coffee still hot enough to burn his throat a little on its way down. He sat it back on the table and cleared his throat, letting the words come out before he could be too sober and thus embarrassed to say them. 

“So, uh...you gonna fuck me, or what?”

Cas stared at him. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes. No. I think so. I dunno.”

Cas suppressed a smile and leaned over the table, holding his mug between his hands. “Don’t you think it would be best to know for sure before making a request like that?”

“How hard can it be, right?”

“ Oh , it’s hard.”

Dean snorted and shook his head, scrubbing a hand nervously through his hair. “It’s not that I haven’t been fine- great, actually- with our current arrangement-”

“Yes, well...giving is much different than receiving, Dean.”

“Fuck. You’re right.” Dean pillowed his chin in his hands and sighed. “I think, maybe, one of these days, though.”

“Sure.” Cas pulled his lip between his teeth, staring. Just staring, his thumb absently rubbing back and forth over the rim of his mug.

“What?”

“Just…” Cas shrugged, looking up at him nervously. “This isn’t...it’s not about this weekend, right?”

“No. I’d almost forgotten about this weekend,” Dean lied, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “Not about that.”

“Oh, good.”

“Yeah.” Dean pushed himself up out of his seat and grabbed his mug, stumbling just a little over to the sink. He rinsed the cup and sat it down with a thunk , then turned on his heel, heading toward his bedroom. 

He was shedding his clothes- a bit clumsily- when he heard Cas follow him. The door clicked shut and Dean turned to see Cas leaning against it, looking at Dean with that unreadable expression he sometimes got. It drove Dean insane, so he instead focused on the buttons of his shirt and wondered why he had shirt that had so many damn buttons anyway. 

“Let me,” Cas said softly when Dean failed to undo the first one for the fourth time. Dean just huffed and let his hands hang uselessly at his sides as Cas deftly popped each one. Dean leaned in close, probably too close, inhaling deeply to catch Cas’s scent. He smelled like weed and Dean’s body wash. It was wonderful.

Cas pushed his shirt off and started for the buckle, glancing up at Dean and locking eyes as he pulled the leather through the loops. It fell to the floor with a gentle clink and Cas dragged the zipper down, tilting his head at Dean.

“How do you want it?” he asked, because he always did.

“Bed,” Dean said simply, walking backwards until the backs of knees hit the mattress. He sat down with a sigh and leaned back on his hands, blinking up at Cas. 

“Alright, we’ve established where,” Cas chuckled, climbing onto Dean’s lap. “You want me face down, or-?”

“Just me, you, and bed,” Dean murmured, grabbing Cas’s hips and pulling him close. “We’re gonna lie down and you’re gonna be the big spoon. No, wait, first I’m gonna turn off the lights and open the window, ‘cause I know how much you like outside. Then we’re gonna lie down and be spoons.”

Cas pulled back enough to look down at Dean, quirking a brow with some confusion. “That’s all you want?”

“You’re enough,” Dean said quietly, unable to meet those blue eyes. “You’re always enough. I don’t care what Sammy says. My life is not shit. It can’t be. You’re in it. So yeah, that’s all I want. I want to fall asleep with you while you play with my hair and kiss the back of my neck- yeah, I know you do that.”

“I suppose I should be embarrassed.”

“No. No, you shouldn't,” Dean said softly. “It's nice. No one's ever done that for me before.”

Cas tangled a hand in the back of Dean's hair. “I'm sorry.”

“What for?”

“That you've never… had that. You want that. You deserve it. You… deserve all the good things you want in life. You deserve better than anyone I know could ever possibly give you.”

Dean wanted to say it then, to tell him that he deserved him , that he's the only person he's ever wanted to be the little spoon for and have his neck kissed by, that he's the only one who's seen him for all that he is. But he knew he couldn't say it. He wouldn't. 

“Thanks for just bein’ you, always,” Dean said instead, looking down between them. “Even with, uh… everything. With what we… do now. You never stopped being my best friend first. I may not, uh… want the same things as you, but we sure do work well together in the meantime.”

Stupid. A fucking stupid thing to say. 

“Right,” Cas said with a stiff smile. “Yeah. We do.”

“And I appreciate you not rubbing the fact that I'm a soft fuck in my face constantly, now that you know it's true,” Dean said, in a lame attempt to scrub his last statement from their minds. 

“You know, I'm really kinda into it,” Cas shrugged with a small chuckle. “It's a refreshing change from the norm.”

Dean wanted to question that. To maintain some semblance of his sanity, he miraculously refrained. 

Cas moved off his lap and Dean got up to turn off the lights. He opened up the window halfway as Cas stripped down to probably nothing then climbed into bed. They settled in their usual way, Dean on his side with Cas pressed up behind him. For a moment the only sounds are the crickets outside followed the occasional sound of a distant owl.

“Sam really say your life was shit?” Cas asked quietly, his hot breath on Dean’s neck.

Dean snorted and shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah, but...I kinda deserved it.”

“No, you don’t,” Cas murmured, squeezing Dean’s middle. “Whatever you said- or didn’t say to him- he shouldn’t have said that.”

“Kinda laid into him about having another kid,” Dean sighed. “How it’s too fast and he’s too busy-”

“Oh, Dean-”

“I know,” Dean shifted, biting his lip. “I should have been more supportive.”

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “But Sam also needs to realize that you’re his brother and that you’ll always be his kids’ uncle. And...that it’s not your responsibility to validate his life choices.”

“So...I was right?”

“No,” Cas chuckled. “I think you’re both idiots who yell at each other instead of talking to each other. I’m just saying you had a good point. Personally, I think a lot ofcouples become so wrapped up in the end goal- such as having a big family, for example- that they aren’t very responsible in how they reach that goal. But hey...what do I know, right? I’ve been single my whole life.”

Dean snorted. “Not that I have much of a better idea, either.”

“Did you just...blurt out that you thought he was rushing into havin’ another kid?”

“Uh...no, not exactly,” Dean said slowly, shivering as Cas brushed his fingers over his chest. “Well...kinda. It was pretty unwarranted, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Fuck’s sake, Dean.”

Dean sighed. “I know.”

“I dunno why he would call you miserable, though,” Cas mused, and Dean felt him lightly press his lips against his neck for the first time of what was sure to be many that night. “You seem like a pretty happy guy to me. Usually, anyway.”

That’s because I’m around you, you idiot.

“Mmm.”
Cas was quiet for a few moments, circling a finger through a small patch of chest hair. “Maybe I should go talk to him tomorrow.”

“No,” Dean said, a little more quickly than he’d like, and cleared his throat. “Uh, no. You know when Sam gets like that he just needs some time. It’ll just make him more mad knowin’ we were talkin’ about it.”

“Good point.” Cas leaned into him, pressing his face against Dean’s neck, humming into his skin. “What should we do tomorrow, then?”

“Well, let’s see. I don’t want to have to put on clothes, and I don’t want to have to leave this house. In fact, I may not even want to leave this bed.”

Another pause. “I can work with that.” Dean can hear the smirk in Cas’s voice.

“Good.” Dean closed his eyes and relaxed, shifting his head slightly against his pillow, pressing his hips back against Cas. Cas just wrapped his arm a little more securely around him, tucking his hand under Dean’s body, pressing another kiss to his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

----

“Alright... alright, fuck! Enough!”

Dean practically begged it, tugging desperately on Cas’s hair, thrusting shallowly into the man’s mouth because he couldn’t not. His cock was still twitching and spasming from his orgasm but Cas was content to keep sucking him down anyway, looking up at Dean with those fucking bedroom eyes through long thick lashes as he suckled at the head.

Finally , blessedly, Cas pulled off with a soft pop and licked his lips as he crawled back up the bed and flopped onto his back beside Dean. Dean grunted when Cas let his arm fall against Dean’s stomach, patting gently as he chuckled.

“Told you I could get another out of you,” he teased, grinning over at him. “I think, at this point, it’s you who owes me. ”

“Fair enough,” Dean groaned, closing his eyes. “How you want it?”

“On any other day, you might would regret asking me that question,” Cas said. “But considering the activity we have planned for tomorrow, I think I’ll take a rain check.”

“What?” Dean popped his eyes open and rolled to his side to face Cas, propping himself up on his elbow. “You...you don’t-”

“I don’t let myself orgasm around orgy time,” Cas said, just as casually as if he was discussing the weather. But then, he was pretty casual about a metric ton of things he shouldn’t be. “It’s, um...personal preference, I guess? Now if I was topping, I’d want to orgasm just before to last longer. But when I’m not...I find long periods of…” he paused, licked his lips, “ activities such as those to be made to be more enjoyable if I deprive myself a bit beforehand. Makes everything more sensitive, makes dragging my orgasm out more challenging, feels like riding a high the whole time.”

“Huh…” Dean looked down at the bedding between them, picking at the sheets with a slight frown. “Wouldn’t think that would be such a good thing.”

“Oh, orgasm denial can be fantastic if done right,” Cas chuckled, stretching over to the nightstand to grab whatever was left of his current blunt. “I’ll show you sometime. I have a feeling you’d be fun to play with.”

“I’m not very patient, Cas.”

“Exactly,” Cas hummed, taking a drag and letting it out slowly. “Anyway, I s’pose I should go over a few things for tomorrow.”

“Ah…” Dean swallowed and glanced away. “Okay, sure.”

“First, before you get all uptight about it, everyone gets checked regularly,” Cas waved his hand and sighed. “All clean and dandy.”

“Fine,” Dean rolled his eyes. He’d take Cas’s word for it. He didn’t trust them , but he trusted Cas.

“Meg will probably offer you some sustenance,” Cas blew out some smoke. “Take it, don’t take it. It’s whatever. Knowing you, I would advise that you don’t. That shit can be intense, especially if you aren’t used to it.”

“But you’ll take it,” Dean said, his voice flat.

“Yeah,” Cas shrugged, uncaring. “Also, like I said before, they all take their turns with me. But don’t worry, you’ll get yours. Meg’s usually first, since she’s the host and all. Dibs and all that.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his voice hoarse. His fingers clenched, unclenched.

“And you’re too pretty for your own good,” Cas huffed with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So they’ll be all over you. Just tell them to back off when they get too handsy. Whatever you seem to think, this is all consensual. And Crowley just watches, so…” Again, a shrug. Like this was nothing. Like every word didn’t twist the knife a little deeper into Dean’s gut.

Like it didn’t even matter.

Dean cleared his throat. 

“Condoms are used always,” Cas continued, “and if that changes, there needs to be verbal consent beforehand. So obviously we have to...you know, change them a lot. If you have extra ones, bring them. I think I have enough for both of us, though.”

“Okay.”

Cas took a deep pull of the blunt and handed it to Dean, and Dean took it without even thinking about it. 

“And of course, if you get in there and don’t want to participate, we can always leave. Just say the word.”

Dean nodded, exhaling smoke. 

“You’re shutting down.”

“What? Am not.”

“Yeah, you are,” Cas said plainly, plucking the blunt from between Dean’s fingers. “Have you changed your mind? It’s best to tell me now.”

“No! Jesus, Cas-”

“There’s no shame in not wanting to-”

“I know!”

Cas wordlessly held his hands up in surrender. 

Dean looked over at him, watching Cas pointedly ignore him as he hit the blunt a few times, coughing lightly. He reached out, touching the back of his hand.

“You really want me to do this with you, huh?”

Cas blinked at him. “Well, yeah. I want you to be a part of it.”

Dean licked his lips and swallowed, nodding marginally. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Cas’s, catching him a little off-guard, sliding a hand up to cup his neck. Smoke mingled between their mouths but Dean didn’t care, he actually didn’t give one single fuck because he was kissing Cas the way he’d always wanted to since, after tomorrow, it might be the last time. He didn’t give a fuck what Cas thought right before. Maybe he’d be too high to notice.

Dean wasn’t sure what happened to the blunt but next thing he knew, both of Cas’s hands were on him and pulling him on top, nails scratching over his skin as he forced his shirt shirt over his head. His teeth latched onto a nipple and Dean hissed, regretting letting the secret about their sensitivity slip to Cas years ago. 

“Fuck, these are fun,” Cas whispered as he pulled, giving one a little flick.

“I ever tell you you’re an ass?” Dean huffed, trying to catch his breath and twitching when Cas blew a puff of air on the perky nub.

“Every day,” Cas said solemnly.

Dean lifted himself up, about to roll off, but Cas didn’t seem to be done with him. Those arms snaked up and pulled him back down, and the kissing began once again. A bit surprising, since by Cas’s own admission kissing was intimate and that wasn’t his thing, but he seemed to be throwing caution to the wind. Considering this could very well be his last night with Cas, since tomorrow he was bound to break apart and ruin absolutely everything, Dean went with it. He’d been wanting to kiss Cas like this for fucking ever . Sure, it tasted like weed and his own semen, but those were details that would fade from memory. What he would remember was Cas’s gentle coaxing tongue, his hands in his hair, the scratch of that stubble on his cheek and lips.

Dean loved kissing. Could do so for hours, until his lips were sore. And he may have poured a little too emotion into it, but he didn’t care anymore. Even if he couldn’t voice what he felt, he had to at least show Cas. Just a little. Show him that he meant so much more to Dean, deserved more than he let himself be treated by these so-called friends. 

“Fuck me,” Dean panted when they broke for air, the words out before he could even think about them.

Cas, his jaw hanging open, his lips beautifully red and a little swollen, stared up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”

“Fuck me,” Dean repeated, his voice more sure. He suddenly couldn’t remember why he’d never asked before. Why he’d never let Cas inside. Fucking stupid. All that time wasted. And fucking selfish too, always the one to take and never the one to give. And it wasn’t like he’d never thought about it. He’d thought about it hundreds of times, when it was dark and he was alone, when he would allow himself the moment to imagine what it would be like to have Cas’s body pressed into him. Surrounding him. That solid weight on top of him.

Cas stared at him for a few beats longer, panting, before finally nodding and pointing to the nightstand. “Condoms and lube, second drawer.”

Dean let out a relieved breath, grateful Cas didn’t make it a thing, and scrambled off his lap to grab a condom and the bottle of Astroglide. He could feel Cas rustling to rid himself of what little clothing he wore, and Dean barely gave himself time to think about what he was about to do at all before he was tossing the condom to Cas and opening the lube. 

Cas hastily ripped the condom open with his teeth and gave his cock a few solid pumps before rolling it on, reaching out almost absently toward Dean. 

Dean froze then, not entirely sure what to do at this point. He knew nothing about what to expect the first time, what it would feel like, if certain positions were better or easier...and then the thought briefly crossed his mind that he was overthinking it when Cas squeezed his hand.

“Lay down here,” Cas said softly, getting to his knees and patting the bed. Dean obliged, lifting his hips when Cas tapped his leg and thrust a thumb upward, and he attempted to get comfortable and pretend to ignore the nagging feeling that Cas’s cock might not fit inside him. 

Cas pried the bottle of lube out of his hand and squeezed a healthy amount onto his fingers, rubbing them together as he reached down between Dean’s legs. Dean sucked in a breath when Cas rubbed some of the liquid over his rim then inserted the first finger, holding it still for a few seconds to give him the opportunity to adjust and relax. 

Dean gritted his teeth through the burn, instead focusing on how absolutely wrecked Cas looked above him.

“Fuck, that’s tight,” Cas said hoarsely, swallowing noticeably.

Dean licked his lips, his hips twitching as Cas curled a finger. It felt so foreign, strange , and slightly uncomfortable. But not wholly unpleasant. 

“That a bad thing?” Dean asked, a little uncertain. 

“ No ,” Cas said, looking strained. He shifted on his knees and the movement made his cock bob. Dean stared at it for a moment, really taking in the size. Shape. Length. Because, well, it was about to be inside him. 

It was ridiculously hard, straining and leaking and twitching. And Dean realized how much Cas wanted this. Was being so careful with Dean, slow, despite how much he probably just wanted to pound inside. 

“You wanna fuck me?” The words slipped out, low and sultry, a purr. It surprised even Dean, but he pushed past that. It was a good distraction, and judging by the uptick of Cas’s eyebrows he was definitely interested. 

“Y-Yes…” Cas said, uncharacteristically hesitant. 

“I bet you’ve thought of it,” Dean kept going, ignoring how his face heated up. “Getting that cock in me. I’ve never had anything inside, you know. Not even fingers. That hole is nice and tight for you.”

Cas stared down at him, his breathing quickening. His eyes darkening. 

“I’ve thought of it too,” Dean admitted. “Imagined that big dick stretching me open. Filling me up. Thought about feeling you twitching inside when you come, feeling that warmth filling me up.” 

“Dean-”

“Do it, Cas,” Dean said softly, adjusting his head on his pillow to better look up at Cas, feeling a bit brave. “Fuck me, right now. C’mon. We both need this.”

Cas paused, licked his lips, swallowed. The hand holding Dean’s knee twitched. He furrowed his brow and nodded once, making another grab for the lube and quickly coating his fingers. He slowly rubbed the liquid over Dean’s hole, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking down to apply some to his own cock. Their eyes met again as he stroked himself and settled in between his legs, teasing Dean’s hole with the head of his cock.

“Gotta relax,” Cas said quietly, mostly to himself. But he looked up at Dean then, eyebrows raised, like he expected Dean to be the one to relax. So Dean took a deep breath in through his mouth and let it out slowly through his nose, making a conscious effort to relax all his muscles. 

“Dean, you have to relax-”

“I’m fuckin’ tryin’, man!”

Cas huffed irritably and leaned down, cupping Dean’s neck as he pressed their lips together hard. It quickly turned soft, though, tongues mingling, teeth scraping spit-slicked lips, and Dean felt himself sinking into it.

He felt Cas line himself up again; felt him pushing, and Dean relaxed into it, sucking in a breath when Cas finally breached his rim. The burn was uncomfortable but he did it, he fucking did it, and Cas was seated inside and pushing further and Dean was damn proud of himself. 

It felt like it took ages for Cas to fully sheath himself. He went painstakingly slow, most likely for Dean’s sake, pausing every so often when Dean’s channel suddenly clamped down and threatened to make him come before they’d even started. By the time his balls rested snugly against Dean’s ass, they were both breathing hard and trembling.

Dean opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, and found Cas staring down at him with a look he’d never seen before and couldn’t quite place. It was gone in an instant and Cas crushed their lips together again. This kiss seemed a bit more desperate, with Cas dominating and nipping and tugging at Dean’s hair. It was nice, very nice, and Dean relaxed further until the foreign intrusion inside him began to grow less uncomfortable and more...pleasurable. 

“Move,” he whispered against Cas’s lips.

Cas nodded once and twitched his hips, drawing out just a little before pushing back in. Dean sighed, his semi flaccid cock slowly thickening once again. Cas was inside him. Cas . And it felt pretty good. Damn good, actually. Every thrust was a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper. Dean took them all with quiet moans, breathy sighs, each growing louder until he was outright moaning in Cas’s ear. He clung to the solid body above him, breathing hard and grunting as he was rocked. 

Cas’s orgasm is what finally punched Dean’s own out of him, his best friend moaning and shaking above him, arms wrapped tightly around him, face pressed into the curve of Dean’s neck. 

His voice was muffled when he spoke, but Dean heard him anyway.

“I love you, Dean.”

Dean shuddered, blinked up at the ceiling, tightened his arms around Cas’s torso. 

“I...love you too.”

Cas didn’t answer, and they laid like that for a long time before he finally rolled to his back beside Dean. He plucked the roach from the ashtray and lit it, a cloud of smoke drifting upwards to the ceiling as he took a long pull and exhaled. Their breathing went back to normal over the next few minutes and Cas cleared his throat and sat up, letting his legs dangle over the side of the bed.

Dean watched him, rolling to his side and propping his head up with a hand. “Hey.”

“Hm?” Cas stood and turned back to him, blunt dangling from his lips, eyebrow raised.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Cas said quickly, followed by a soft smile. He leaned back over the bed and kissed Dean’s forehead and ruffled his hair, making a point to throw him another smile before he padded out of the bedroom. 

Dean frowned and sat up, and the sheets draped over his waist bundled in his lap. His ass was a little sore and he kind of didn’t want to move, but Cas still hadn’t returned almost five minutes later, so he got up to go look for him. He found him in the living room with the remnants of the roach burning out in an ashtray, that fucking robe wrapped around him as he slumped on the couch, head back and eyes closed.

Fuck. Fuck. This was it.

This was everything he’d been afraid of from the beginning.

Now that Cas had him, he wouldn’t want him anymore. It was weird, it was awkward. He was unsatisfactory and Cas didn’t have the patience for it. 

He was going to lose his best friend.

“Cas.”

Cas opened both eyes and looked up at him, and it was only then that Dean realized he’d migrated slowly to the couch and was standing over him like a fucking creep. Cas gave him a dopey smile and blinked slowly. 

“Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat and took a few steps to the left, moving to sit on the far end of the couch. “Are...are we, uh...okay?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“It’s just, I...I mean, you-”

“You were wonderful, Dean,” Cas said sincerely, sighing softly. “Truly wonderful. Please don’t think otherwise. I...I’m just...need a minute, I guess, to...kind of process everything.”

Dean paused, shifting on his feet. “Okay.”

“We’re fine,” Cas said, reaching out to grab Dean’s hand and squeezed. “I promise. We’re still us. ‘M gonna smoke this then come back to bed, okay?”

Dean chewed his lip and nodded slowly, eyeing Cas for a long moment before he retreated back into the bedroom. He stood there, staring at the bed blankly, where just a few moments ago he’d been gasping with pleasure. He shook his head and quickly pulled on a pair of boxers, wincing the dull throb in his ass. That was going to take some getting used to.

Or maybe not. Dean’s gut was telling him this was a one time thing, if Cas’s reaction was any indication. Maybe it’d been too intimate. Not weird or kinky enough. Maybe Dean had clung just a little too tight, inadvertently giving away his feelings.

Dean crawled back into bed, shut off the light, and laid down with his eyes wide open and staring blankly into the dark. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Cas finally came back in, smelling of weed and faintly of alcohol. He slipped in beside Dean, immediately pressing up against him. Dean relaxed considerably and, despite telling himself not to, he allowed Cas to hold him like he always did. He sighed and closed his eyes, allowing himself this small bit of intimacy, afraid it might be the last.

Chapter Text

The first thing he registered when he woke was the warmth of Cas’s arms still wrapped snugly around him, his soft breathing against his ear. Dean smiled before he even opened his eyes, momentarily forgetting about the night before...until he made the first move to turn over.

“ Owwwww... ” he groaned as he turned in Cas’s arms, surprised to find his best friend staring back at him, “- www-o hhh. Mornin’, Cas.”

Cas blinked at him, glancing down skeptically between their bodies. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just-” Dean groaned again as he pulled himself free, sitting up to scrub his hands over his face. It was too difficult to look at Cas just yet. Too difficult to just lay there while the guy held him knowing his heart would be in pieces by the end of the day. “You’re just a literal pain in my ass, that’s all.”

Normally Cas would’ve laughed. He didn’t this time.

The bed shifted, and Cas’s hand was on his shoulder.

“Dean-”

“How ‘bout some waffles, hm?” Dean asked quickly, throwing the covers off and sliding out of bed against Cas’s protests. “Bought some of that good syrup you like from the Amish place downtown.”

Cas huffed and got out of bed too, not even bothering to throw on clothes as Dean pulled on sweats and retreated to the kitchen, Cas hot on his trail.

“Dean, we should-”

“Tried to charge me five dollars for that little bottle too, but I talked ‘em down to four-”

“ Dean, I need to tell you-”