Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The party was in full swing when Dean slurped back another jello shot, feeling the vodka hit his belly with a surge of warmth that tingled through him. He reached for another, and Charlie smacked his knuckles.

“Hey!” he protested, pouting at his best friend. 

“Quit hogging the raspberry ones!” she scolded, and Dean rolled his eyes. 

“Gimme the lime then.” He swayed a little as he stood to go for the farther tray and tossed a shot back, smacking his lips and running his tongue down to the bottom of the shot glass to get the last of the bright green jello still clinging to the plastic.

A warm hand settled against his back, steadying him when he would have stumbled, and he found himself staring into the bluest eyes to ever exist.

“Hi, Cas,” he murmured, smiling happily, and Cas shook his head fondly. 

“How many of those have you had, Dean?” he asked, his eyes crinkling up with a smile, and Dean reached out to brush a finger against his jaw.

“You're pretty.” Dean knew there was a reason he hadn't told Cas that before, but at the moment, it was just too important. He heard Charlie snickering behind him and turned quickly to point a finger at her. Once again, Cas caught him when he would have fallen. “Don’ you laugh, m’right! He is pretty!”

Charlie snorted, but she held her hands up defensively. 

“You know I bat for the other team, Deanie, but yes, Cas is very pretty,” she agreed, her eyes twinkling with laughter as she looked between him and Cas. Dean nodded sharply, content now that his bestie wasn't arguing with him, and he turned back to Cas. He squinted.

“You okay?” he mumbled, reaching up to cup Cas’ cheek. “You’re all red. S’a matter?” He dragged his thumb over Cas’ cheekbone and frowned, wondering why Cas was looking at him like that.

“N-nothing. It's just a little warm in here. Is it warm in here? I'm going to open some windows.”

Cas slipped away, and Dean followed him with his eyes, smiling dreamily.  A sudden smack to his bicep made him jump.

“Handmaiden, you are so drunk!” Charlie said, laughing, and Dean stuck his tongue out at her, grabbing another lime Jello shot. As he swept his tongue around the bottom of the shot glass and sucked to slurp up the Jello, his eyes landed on Cas again, who was across the room and talking to his other best friend, Meg. 

Dean scowled. He didn't really like Meg. It was mutual, too. But she was a good friend to Cas, so he couldn't complain. Much.

He stumbled off to the kitchen and helped himself to a bowl of chips someone had set on the counter. Hugging it to his chest, he wandered out onto the balcony, lowering himself to sit on the concrete. He tilted his head against the railing and looked up at the stars, sighing. His head was spinning, and he thought again of how Cas had leaned down to talk to Meg. She’d been rolling her eyes about something, but then she’d patted him on the chest, and Dean had seen how Cas blushed. 

Dean swallowed against a lump in his throat. 

Suddenly, the music and laughter echoing from the apartment were grating, and he fumbled his phone from his pocket. He needed to go. Pulling up Uber, he called a car to his location. He knew he was way too trashed to drive Baby. Dean left the bowl of chips on the balcony and wove through the apartment, slipping out the door and down the hall to the elevator. 

Charlie was going to give him shit for leaving without saying bye, he knew, but he couldn't take it. He needed – needed…

Dean scrubbed at his face, feeling a surge of melancholy, and stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors opened. Punching the button for the ground floor, Dean leaned against the wall, closing his eyes as everything slowly spun. When the elevator lurched to a stop, he stepped out, wobbling his way out of the lobby and down the steps to the street. 

A car pulled up, then his phone beeped at him, and he peered at the notification, matching the Uber’s description to the blurry vehicle in front of him, waiting at the curb. He was pretty sure it was it, and when he opened the door, the driver turned to look at him.

“Name?” the man asked, and Dean crawled into the back seat. 

“M’Dean,” he replied. 

“Where to?”

“I gotta go home,” he mumbled, leaning his head back against the headrest and closing his eyes. 

“Okaaaaay… where’s home?” 

He could hear the stifled laughter in the driver's voice and shrugged, trying to focus. Home was…

Dean rattled off the address, and the driver nodded. Then, turning to check his blind spot, the driver pulled away from the curb in front of the apartment building.

“Rough night?”

Dean didn't bother opening his eyes; he just hummed an affirmative. He really needed to get home. Home was quiet and comfort. Home was safe. Home was–

Dean's phone let out a noisy ring, distracting him from his meandering thoughts, and he fumbled with it, accepting the FaceTime request before he realised what he’d done. 

“Dean?”

Dean peered at his screen, a happy smile curving his lips at the sight of Cas’ features, his dark hair tousled. It looked like Cas was on a balcony, and Dean thought it looked familiar.

“Heeeey, Cas. Howz it goin’?” Dean asked, and he saw Cas frown.

“Dean, where are you? Did you leave?”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his eyes for a second, then looked back at his phone, nodding slowly. His head felt like it weighed about a thousand pounds, and it wanted to keep moving even after he told it to stop, like it was filled with ballast and he was ready to tip over.

“Yeaaah,” Dean drawled. His tongue felt clumsy, and the Uber was still spinning as it drove down the street. “Shorry, m’not in a party mood, guess. Hadta go—Don' worry. I didn't take Baby. Too many Jello shots. Got an Uber. He’ll get me home.”

Dean's eyes were drifting closed again, but Cas’ voice called out to him sharply, demanding his attention.

“You assbutt! How drunk are you?! We were drinking at yours and Charlie's place!”

Wait… what? Dean blinked, sitting up a little from his slouch, and glanced around.

“Where the fuck’m I goin’?” he wondered, trying to identify the streets as they drove through the city, but it was late and very dark, and his vision was more than a little blurry.

“You said to take you home,” the driver spoke up. “The address you gave me is 27 Champion Road.”

Dean heard Cas’ breath catch, and he looked at the screen again, meeting Cas’ eyes. He was looking at Dean wonderingly and slowly shook his head. 

“My place? That's home?” Cas asked, so softly Dean almost couldn't make out the words. Still, Dean answered the obviously rhetorical question.

“S’got you, doesn't it?” he countered, and he saw Cas smile. 

“You… are something else, Dean Winchester,” he said, smiling softly. “You've got your key?”

Dean patted his pocket, feeling for his key ring with a frown, then smiled as he felt them.

“Got ‘em!”

“Make sure you drink some water, Dean, and take a couple of Advil before you crash. We can talk in the morning.”

Dean's eyes closed again, but he forced them open, and Cas' smile made his heart swell.

“Mkay, Sunshine.” His eyes closed, and he sighed. “Love you.”

He was almost asleep when Cas replied.

“I love you, too.”

~~

Cas disconnected the FaceTime call absently, not quite sure what had just happened. 

Dean was drunk, obviously. Cas already knew that from his behaviour earlier. He was adorable, too. All bright smiles and shining eyes, a flush to his cheeks that made Cas just want to kiss him. And he was a handsy drunk. Nothing weird or creepy, but very tactile, sometimes even snuggly. 

But Cas had never even considered it might mean anything. It was why he'd slipped away from Dean earlier, worried he might blurt out something that would ruin their friendship after Dean told him he was pretty. Dean’s hand had been so warm against his face, his touch so gentle… Cas could feel his cheeks heating again, and he shook his head. Ducking back into the apartment, he looked around, trying to find Meg or Charlie. 

He needed to leave. But Charlie was looking for Dean, too, so he had to tell her he was safe. And Meg would kick his ass if he left without telling her.

He went through the kitchen, scanning over the crowd, but neither woman was terribly tall. Finally, he spotted them on an oversized wicker chair like a saucer. He crossed the room, slowing as he realised there'd been a shift in their relationship that night, too. He cleared his throat and tapped Meg’s foot where it was draped over Charlie's calf.

Meg flipped him off, not even pulling away from Charlie's lips for a moment, and Cas rolled his eyes.

“I talked to Dean,” he said loudly, and Charlie broke the kiss with Meg to look up at him, her eyes wide.

Meg muttered something about him being a cockblock, but he ignored her for the moment.

“Where is he? I'm gonna kick his ass!” Charlie announced, and Cas hesitated. 

“He needed to clear his head, I guess. He's got a key to my place, so he went there to crash. I'm gonna head out, make sure the Uber got him there, and make sure he doesn't barf up his toenails.”

Charlie was clearly biting back a smirk, but Cas refused to share what Dean had said over FaceTime. 

Or that he’d called Cas his home. 

Not until they'd had a – sober – conversation.

“Go take care of our Deanie,” was all Charlie said, but there was a wicked glint in her eyes, and Cas knew there'd be a shit-ton of teasing coming. 

Deciding to worry about that later, he nodded, then turned to Meg.

“By the way, Meg, considering it's the two of you involved, I wouldn't call myself a cockblock.” He started to turn to walk away, then threw her a wink over his shoulder. “More like a beaver dam.”

He headed for the door, grinning as Meg told him off, and Charlie hooted with laughter. He waved to a few friends as he went but refused to be drawn into their conversations. As the apartment door closed behind him, shutting out the raucous noise from within, Cas took a deep breath. He hadn't been drinking, so rather than wait for the elevator, he turned down the hall and slipped into the stairwell. He went down the stairs easily, his feet hurrying as he went. Grabbing the handrail at the landing, Cas whipped himself around to the next set of stairs, taking them two at a time now. 

He hit the lobby at a run. Bursting out onto the street, Cas ran down the block to where his car was parked, fumbling with the key a little in his haste. He got the door unlocked and slid behind the wheel, cranking the engine and throwing it into drive the second the street was clear. Halfway down the block, he remembered to put on his seatbelt and took a steadying breath. 

He needed to cool down. Dean was well and truly in the bag, and there was absolutely no way any conversation would happen tonight. 

Maybe a goodnight kiss? a traitorous little voice in his mind suggested, and Cas tightened his grip on the steering wheel, refusing to consider it. He pushed all thoughts of kisses or anything else of a romantic nature away, trying to forget the gentle touch of Dean’s hand on his face earlier that night. 

Without thinking about it, Cas brushed his thumb lightly over his cheekbone like Dean had done, and he shivered.

Shaking his head, he focused on the road.

Chapter Text

When Cas pulled into his own driveway, several lights were on in the house, and he snorted a laugh. Dean was generally conscientious of wasting electricity, but drunk Dean had apparently forgotten how to turn off lights. Cas parked his car and took a slow, steadying breath before heading inside. 

First thing he did was almost trip over Dean's boots, and he rolled his eyes, stooping to set them aside on the mat behind the door. Kicking off his own shoes, Cas headed for the kitchen, where he found a crumb-covered plate in the sink, sprinkles of sugar and cinnamon making him smile.

Dean’s comfort food was cinnamon sugar toast, but it was comfort in the sense that he ate that when he was happy, rather than in need of cheering up.

Cas glanced around, and sure enough, the cinnamon was on the counter by the toaster, the butter dish pulled almost to the edge of the counter instead of tucked away against the backsplash. To be honest, he was surprised Dean had gotten the bread and the sugar put away. 

Wiping down the counter quickly, Cas poured a glass of water and drained it quickly, then refilled it, taking it along as he went upstairs. He killed the lights as he went, walking as quietly as he could to avoid waking Dean in the guest room. He stopped in the bathroom to get ready for bed, smiling at the bottle of Advil still on the counter. Once he’d emptied his bladder, washed up, and brushed his teeth, he poured out two Advil, leaving the bottle by the sink. 

He tiptoed down the hall to the guest room, carrying the glass of water and the painkillers Dean was sure to need in the morning, fully expecting to find Dean sprawled out and snoring.

The bed was empty, the bedding undisturbed. 

Cas’ heart thumped oddly in his chest, starting to race.

Dean hadn't been on the couch in the living room. Maybe he'd gone to the basement where Cas had a pull-out couch? Cas swallowed and left the guest room. Rather than turning left toward the stairs, though, he turned right. He ignored his office – there was nowhere to sleep in there – and headed for his own room. He carefully opened the door, and his breath caught.

Dean had fallen asleep with the light on. His lashes fanned across his cheeks, which were rosy with sleep and the Jello shots, and he had his arms wrapped tightly around Cas’ pillow, hugging it to his chest. Cas started to step forward, but something clinked underfoot. He glanced down and found Dean's jeans, the belt still through the loops, which explained the noise. Dean's flannel was a couple steps closer to the bed, and a crumpled black t-shirt was on the bed. Cas crept closer and set the full water glass on his bedside table, tucking the Advil just behind the glass. 

He turned back to the bed and let his eyes roam, warmth filling his chest at the beautiful image Dean made. He was wearing a maroon sweatshirt, Cas realised, and he smiled, biting his lip. It was his. Dean called his place home, told him he loved him, and now he was asleep in Cas’ bed, wearing Cas’ clothes. 

As much as Cas would love to crawl into his bed and feel Dean’s warmth beside him all night, he knew he couldn't. Barring a clear, sober invitation, he couldn't wrap his arms around Dean to sleep. Sighing, he stepped back. It really wasn't fair. 

Cas grabbed a pair of flannel lounge pants and an old T-shirt worn thin with age and use and slipped from the room, flicking the light switch as he went. He walked back down the hall to the guest room, got changed, then turned off the light, and crawled into the comfortable but cold and lonely bed. 

Tomorrow, he reminded himself. Tomorrow we can talk about this.

It took a while for him to fall asleep, his thoughts straying over and over to his best friend sleeping down the hall.

~~

Dean woke, his head spinning, and groaned. His bladder was insistently telling him he had to get up now, so he flung back the blankets and stumbled to his feet. He almost instantly stubbed his toes and swore, fumbling for his lamp. His hand bumped into a glass, sending water sloshing over his fingers, and he caught the glass clumsily. Feeling around in the dark carefully now, he found the lamp and felt for the switch.

His vodka-soaked brain took a solid thirty seconds to realise the switch wasn't where it should be because it wasn't his lamp. He finally flicked on the light and blearily blinked around the room. 

“Huh…” he mumbled to himself, recognising Cas’ decor. His bladder reminded him of a pressing need, and he stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. Rather than trust his still inebriated balance, he sat on the toilet, letting out a low groan of relief. He propped an elbow on the bathroom counter and rested his chin on his hand, his eyes drifting shut.

His head jerked up, nearly sending him toppling off the can as his balance refused to accommodate the sudden movement, and Dean muttered quietly under his breath as he finished up before he fell asleep again or just fell off the toilet. He washed his hands and stumbled out of the bathroom, heading back to crawl into bed. 

The nice thing about Cas’ place – other than Cas himself – was even his guest room had memory foam. 

Dean stumbled into the guest bedroom and crawled into bed, asleep again the moment his head hit the pillow.

~~

Cas generally woke quickly, switching from sleep to wakefulness with an alacrity that left him grumpy and wishing for a hazy climb to consciousness rather than an abrupt snap. This morning though, he drifted, warm and comfortable. He felt wonderful, his skin tingling with sensation, a solid weight pressed against his side. Calloused fingertips stroked over his chest, and he hummed softly at the gentle caress. Heat licked under his skin when a thumb grazed over his nipple, and he moaned quietly. 

His dreams still hovered in his mind, and he bit his lip, leaning into the touch.

“Mmmm… Dean…” he murmured, warmth pooling slowly as molasses in his groin as he imagined the rough scrape of a stubbled jaw against his chest. 

Something tickled his nose, and Cas lifted a hand in irritation to brush it away, only to encounter soft, thick hair.

Cas’ eyes flew open, and he froze, his heart hammering in his chest as he discovered his fingers were now tangled in Dean's hair. He barely dared to breathe, trying to figure out what the hell had happened because when he'd gone to bed, Dean had been asleep in Cas' bedroom down the hall. 

Clouding his mind was the slow hum of arousal, and now he had to wonder if the dreams he’d been having before he woke had been prompted by the feeling of Dean’s body against his. His waking mind had no trouble inventing all sorts of possibilities, anyway. 

He bit his lip hard, stifling a groan, and carefully slid out from under Dean's arm. The early morning light was seeping around the curtains’ edges, reminding Cas why he'd chosen the other bedroom as his own, and he grumbled under his breath at being rousted from the warmth. He glared down at Dean, who was now wrapped around his pillow, hugging it to his chest and rubbing his cheek against it like a sleeping cat. 

Cas felt his lips twitch into a soft smile, and without thinking, he gently brushed Dean's hair back from his face. 

“It's a good thing I love you,” he whispered, then headed down the hall to his bedroom to grab his slippers. His kitchen floor tended to be cold no matter the time of year. 

Peeking in again on his way past, Cas grinned, pulled the door most of the way shut, then made his way to the kitchen. Coffee. Before anything else, he needed coffee. 

He was working on his second cup, had bacon in the oven, and was making a cheese-loaded omelette when he heard Dean’s shuffling steps and swallowed his coffee a little roughly. Instead of looking up, he turned to grab another mug from the cupboard and poured Dean a cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar the way he knew Dean liked but often wouldn't ask for himself, a holdover from his dad’s toxic rules about manliness.

Sometimes Cas wished he’d had a chance to meet the man, if only so he could have knocked a few of John’s teeth out with his fist. A missed opportunity, but such was life. Cas even acknowledged to himself that the desire to beat the asshole was also toxic, but he could live with that.

He slid the full mug across the counter to Dean and turned his attention back to the frying pan to flip the omelette. From the corner of his eye, he saw Dean's long fingers wrap around the mug and heard the slow slurp followed by an almost silent groan of pleasure at the first hit of caffeine. 

Cas stepped back slightly from the stove, the heat making his face feel warm. He pulled the omelette off the heat, trying to distract himself. It didn't work at all. He gnawed on his lip for a moment, then managed a smile as he turned to Dean.

“Good morning, Dean,” he said softly, then cleared his throat. His voice was off, too breathy, and as he met Dean’s eyes, his heart started to pound.

Dean stared at him, a soft look from slightly bloodshot eyes, then a frown creased Dean's brow for a split second as his gaze shifted away, puzzlement showing before his eyes widened and his jaw dropped just a little. A blush climbed Dean's cheeks, and his eyes flew back to Cas’. His mouth worked for a moment before he managed to speak.

“You said you loved me!” he said almost accusingly, and Cas rolled his eyes in exasperation. Of course, that was what Dean remembered. 

“You mean after you told your Uber driver to take you home, gave him my address, told me that it was home because it had me, and said you loved me?” he replied in a bit of a snark, feeling a surge of impish satisfaction as the blush on Dean’s cheeks deepened. Dean was looking away again, but a shy little smile was curving his full lips, and Cas chuckled. He leaned his elbows on the counter splitting the kitchen in two, the movement pulling Dean's gaze to him again. “Yeah. I did say that.”

Cas watched as Dean’s expression softened again, and he rounded the end of the counter to pull Cas into a hug. 

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

Dean woke thinking something had crawled into his mouth and died, and he groaned softly. His head was throbbing with a dull ache, and he vaguely remembered way too many Jello shots. He opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. He had his arms around a pillow that smelled of a familiar shampoo, and he glanced around, trying to focus.

He was in Cas’ guest room, and a glance down at himself showed he was wearing a cosy sweatshirt, a dark maroon one with a faded university logo. He shifted sleepily, pushing himself upright with a grumbled complaint. His bladder was bitching at him to get moving, and he tossed back the blankets reluctantly. He shuffled down the hall to the bathroom to relieve himself, a hazy memory of nearly falling asleep on the can surfacing. He wracked his brain for other details, then shook his head. 

Water. Advil. Coffee. Food. 

Dean's priorities were clear, and he splashed his face with cold water before scooping up another handful to swallow a couple of Advil. As he dried his face and hands, he smiled fondly, tucking the bottle back into the medicine cabinet where it belonged. 

Dean knew Cas would have coffee made, and he headed down to the kitchen. He could smell bacon cooking, and his stomach rumbled. 

Cas was at the stove, and as Dean entered the kitchen, he turned to pour a cup of coffee. Dean watched with a feeling of warmth filling his chest as Cas added milk and sugar without Dean asking, and he slid the coffee across the counter to Dean. There was a faint flush on Cas’ cheeks, and he was looking anywhere but at Dean. Cas was nervous, Dean realised. 

What he didn't know was why.

Dean knew he tended to be a bit touchy-feely when he was drinking, but he didn't think he'd gone overboard last night. He replayed the evening in his mind, taking a slow sip of his coffee and sighing happily as the liquid gold hit his senses. 

He'd drunk too much, he knew that. For whatever reason, he’d decided to leave the party he and Charlie were hosting and called an Uber. A twisting to his stomach when he remembered Meg smiling up at Cas, her hand on his chest as he blushed. That was why he'd left.

He’d spoken to Cas, though… he glanced at Cas again just as he turned, smiling at Dean warmly.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said softly, his voice a little huskier than usual. His blue eyes were wide and warm, and his expression was a blend of fondness, hope, and nervousness that made Dean’s heart pound. 

Cas was so goddamn beautiful, and he just felt like home.

My place? That's home? He remembered the words hazily, and frowned a little, searching his memory. 

It's got you, doesn't it?

Dean felt his face heating in a blush. Cas had said they'd talk in the morning…

Kay, Sunshine. Love you.  

Dean's face was on fire, and he wanted to sink through the floor.

I love you, too.

Dean's eyes flew to Cas’ again, and the words tumbled out before he could censor them.

“You said you loved me!” he blurted, and Cas’ cheeks burned fiercely. They looked like they were about as hot as Dean's felt, and Cas rolled his eyes in a familiar look of fond irritation.

“You mean after you told your Uber driver to take you home, gave him my address, told me that it was home because it had me, and said you loved me?” Cas asked, a boatload of sass filling his voice, and Dean was pretty sure he was blushing hard enough to catch fire any second now. He had to look away, but the words sank in, and he couldn't stop the silly smile that he knew was curving his lips. He heard Cas chuckle fondly, and then Cas leaned forward, drawing Dean's eyes to him again as rested his elbows on the counter. “Yeah. I did say that.”

Dean set his mug on the counter as he rounded the end of the island and carefully pulled Cas into a hug. Cas melted against him, and Dean felt his heart swell.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping his head to Cas’ shoulder and humming happily as Cas’ arms went around him in return. 

“Dean…” Cas’ voice was barely a whisper, awed and breathless, and his hands slid into Dean’s hair. He pulled back a little, and Dean reluctantly let him. Cas searched his eyes, his gaze dropping to Dean's mouth. “Can I kiss you?”

“Anytime you want, baby,” Dean answered with a grin, only to gasp as Cas captured his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

Cas’ lips always looked chapped, but they were soft as velvet against Dean's, cushioning his own lips gently, warmth spreading through him as his arms tightened. They kissed leisurely, exploring each other lazily, and Dean found his head spinning with a lack of oxygen by the time they broke apart with twin gasps.

Cas’ sky blue eyes had darkened considerably, a look of want clear in them, and Dean swallowed roughly. He didn't know what that look meant precisely, but he was all in. Cas leaned in –

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Cas let out a growl, turning Dean's brain to mush as the blood rushed south, then he was pulling away from Dean's arms and crossing to the oven. As Dean was trying to reboot his brain, he watched as Cas bent to get a tray out of the oven and his mouth watered.

Whether it was the sight of Cas’ ass with thin flannel pulled tight over it or the waft of bacon that caused his reaction was up for debate.

Tearing his eyes away, Dean grabbed a couple of plates and some forks, then topped up Cas’ coffee, stirring in the sugary vanilla syrup he loved. He carried their mugs to the breakfast nook, bathed in gold and green light from the trailing ivy Cas had in baskets surrounding the window, and Cas followed with a heaping plate of bacon, and an enormous omelette, sliced in two. Cas slid half the omelette onto Dean's plate, claimed the other for himself, and wandered back to set the pan on the stove again.

Dean sipped his coffee, unable to look away. He was allowed now, right? He could check Cas out and not feel guilty. He dragged his eyes over Cas’ gorgeous body, the threadbare t-shirt pulled taut over his chest and biceps, the flannel sleep pants hanging low enough for Dean to catch a glimpse of tan skin and cruelly sharp hip bones, as well as a dark trail of hair snaking downward. 

He'd seen Cas in cycling shorts, so he knew damn well how gorgeous those thick thighs were, but seeing the PJs straining over them was a revelation. It also did nothing to hide the swell front and centre, and Dean swallowed roughly as arousal kicked in his gut. 

“Dean…” Cas’ voice dragged his attention up to his face, where his full pink lips were curved in a smug smile, even as he blushed at Dean's attention. He sat, and Dean hooked an ankle around Cas’ without thinking about it. 

“Yeah?” 

“How's your head?” Cas asked, and for a split second, Dean was tempted to give him a demonstration. He reeled in his horny inner self and told it to shut up for a bit, taking a sip of coffee to give himself a second.

“The Advil helped,” he replied, then felt his lips twitch in a cocky smile as he flicked a glance down Cas’ body again. “But I've never had any complaints.”

Apparently, his horny inner self didn't feel like shutting up. 

Cas laughed, a deep, rich laugh, then grabbed a few pieces of bacon and dropped them on his plate. He licked his fingers, and Dean found himself getting distracted by those soft lips wrapped around long fingers. That Cas was sending him a smouldering look only wound Dean up more. Dean cleared his throat, grabbing a piece of bacon for himself and taking a bite. He hummed happily at the smoky, salty crunch and licked his fingers, winking at Cas. 

Cas grinned again, then dug into his omelette, sighing happily. He took a drink of his coffee, then paused, glancing at his mug.

“You added the vanilla syrup?” he asked, and Dean shrugged, feeling a little shy.

“It's your favourite, right?” he countered. “Kinda like how you know I really like my coffee with milk an’ sugar.” Cas reached over and tangled his fingers with Dean’s, and Dean felt his heart go pitter-patter in his chest. He glanced down for a second, then frowned in confusion. “I'm wearin’ your clothes. Where’re mine?” 

Cas snorted, coughing as he seemed to nearly choke on his eggs. Dean jumped up and grabbed him a glass of water, watching worriedly until Cas had his breathing under control.

“You got changed in my room when you raided for that to sleep in,” Cas explained, a wicked twinkle in his eyes. His lips curved in a teasing grin. “I'm assuming your clothes are still on the floor in there. You also fell asleep in my bed.”

Dean felt his ears burn with embarrassment, and he stared down at his plate. Stabbing at the omelette, he cleared his throat, taking a mouthful and chewing methodically. Cas squeezed his fingers, and Dean glanced back at him. Cas was watching him with a soft, sweet smile.

“Wait a sec,” Dean mumbled, frowning in thought. “I just crawled outta bed in the guest room!”

Cas’ smile stayed, but he rolled his eyes a little and reclaimed his hand to grab another piece of bacon.

“I know. I crashed in there last night. When I woke up this morning, I had a very nice, warm body pressed up against mine.” 

Dean swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. 

“Wish you'd woken me,” he replied in a rasp, and Cas’ eyes darkened again. 

“I wanted to,” Cas replied. He took another drink of his coffee, his eyes locked on Dean above the rim, and Dean leaned forward.

“Why didn'tcha?”

Cas’ smile disappeared, and he shrugged, dropping his eyes to his plate and poking at his food.

“What if you hadn't remembered?” Cas countered in a whisper, and Dean’s heart lurched. He reached over and grabbed Cas’ hand.

“I get it. But I did remember, an’ I meant every word.” Cas was still looking down at his plate, and Dean cupped his chin, tilting his face up. Their eyes locked. “You… you're it for me, Sunshine.”

Cas’ eyes shone with happiness, and he leaned into Dean's touch. 

“I've loved you for years,” he said quietly, and Dean leaned over to capture his lips in a soft kiss.

Chapter Text

They finished breakfast, sharing soft touches and softer looks, and Cas smiled non-stop as Dean flirted with him outrageously. Looking back, Dean had always flirted with him, but he’d somehow missed the context. He just thought his best friend liked to flirt. 

Which was true, but still. Cas had missed the intent when Dean said those things to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Sunshine?” Dean asked, and Cas felt that wonderful, bubbling joy welling up inside him. Dean had been calling Cas Sunshine for years. And now he said sweetheart in exactly the same tone.

“I was wondering,” Cas began, collecting their plates and carrying them to the sink. He started to wash them quickly, and Dean followed with their coffee mugs. “How many moments were you really flirting with me that I missed? And how many times have I looked at you, wanting you, and you didn't see it?”

Dean slid behind Cas, wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist and nuzzling at the back of his neck. Cas shivered, tilting his head to one side, and Dean dropped gentle kisses along his throat.

“Cas, baby, I compared us to Thelma and Louise when we worked on that damn project for Prof Raphael in second year. Man, that guy was a prick. Anyway, been flirting with you for years. What about you? You said you were wanting me… like when?”

Dean was still kissing at Cas’ throat, his lips moving slowly, a hint of teeth here and there making Cas shiver. He cleared his throat, but his voice was still husky and deeper than usual when he spoke.

“Do you remember that fight we had,” he asked roughly, and Dean's arms tightened around his waist, “and you mouthed off when I was glaring at you…?”

Cas heard Dean swallow roughly, his mouth reaching Cas’ earlobe and sucking softly. 

“I remember,” Dean whispered, nuzzling at Cas’ ear, and Cas rinsed his hands, drying them roughly on a towel. He turned in Dean's arms, his head buzzing with arousal, and pinned Dean with a look. He saw Dean’s pupils blow wide as Cas arched an eyebrow at him, and Dean's hands tightened convulsively on his hips. Dean wet his lips, his eyes locked on Cas’ mouth. “‘Last time somebody looked at me like that, I got laid.’”

“I was so close to losing it, Dean,” Cas confessed, his pulse hammering in his ears. “I slammed that door in your face and left because I was afraid I'd destroy our friendship if I got my hands on you. If I kissed you the way I wanted to.”

Dean whimpered, and Cas trembled, biting his lip to keep from dragging him into a kiss. He wasn't sure what Dean wanted at that moment. 

“I wanted you to. Jesus, Cas, I was tryin’ to get a rise out of you –” Cas smirked at Dean’s phrasing, and it widened to a grin as Dean rolled his eyes with a blush. “– and then you moved… you left me behind, an’ it broke me… I know Europe was a good experience for you, but the way you left, I didn't know if you were ever comin’ back.”

Cas’ insides rolled uncomfortably, and he cupped Dean’s jaw gently.

“I'm sorry, Dean. I'm here now, and I don't plan on leaving. I came back here to make a home. Even if… even if I never got to have you, I couldn't stay away.”

Tears were glinting in the corners of Dean's eyes, and he leaned his forehead against Cas', a soft huff of laughter escaping him. Their arms tightened, and together they moved closer in a warm, comforting hug. 

“So, what you're sayin’ is you wanna have me, huh?” Dean teased, nuzzling at Cas’ earlobe, and Cas felt heat shimmer under his skin.

“Dean…” His hands slid down to Dean's waist, and he pulled him closer, moaning as his half-hard cock twitched against Dean's. “In more ways than I can count.”

“Jesus, Cas…” Dean replied breathlessly, and he pulled Cas into another kiss. His tongue swept against Cas’, and his hands tangled in his hair. He rocked his hips forward, and Cas groaned as he felt Dean’s cock thicken against his own. “Sunshine, you gotta let me suck your dick.”

Arousal swept through Cas’ veins, and he laced his fingers with Dean’s, pulling him out of the kitchen and up the stairs. Cas dragged Dean down the hall to his room, where he spun and pulled Dean into another slow, sensual kiss. Dean moaned against his lips, and the sound made Cas shiver. Dean walked him back toward his bed, and Cas crawled into the middle of the enormous pile of blankets, laying back and beckoning Dean with a crooked finger. 

Dean stared at him, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips, and Cas felt his cock throb. 

“Dean…” Cas rasped, his voice half an octave deeper than usual and husky with need, “come here.”

He saw Dean’s Adam's apple bounce as he swallowed roughly, then Dean crawled onto the bed and settled against his side. He stared at Cas like he was the most precious thing in the world, and Cas squirmed a little at the intensity of Dean's gaze. 

“Cas…” Dean's eyes searched his, a look of wonder filling them. “I can't believe I get this. Get to say it.” His hand cupped Cas’ jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing over his cheekbone lightly. Cas felt himself blushing at the familiar touch. Dean had done the same thing at the party the night before. Dean leaned in, lightly brushed the tips of their noses, and smiled the sweetest smile Cas had ever seen. “I love you.”

Cas felt joyful tears welling in his eyes and he blinked them away, pulled Dean into a tight hug, and buried his face against Dean’s throat. He took a slow, shaky breath, savouring the feeling of the love of his life in his arms, the scent of his skin in his nostrils, the taste of his lips on his tongue. He breathed a short laugh, disbelief wrapped in pure happiness that they'd come to this.

“I love you, Dean.”

Chapter Text

Cas’ voice was a little muffled thanks to his face being pressed tightly to Dean’s skin, but Dean still heard him, and his arms tightened, pulling Cas closer. Their bodies slotted together perfectly, like interlocking puzzle pieces. Their legs tangled, and Cas’ arms wrapped around Dean's back, his big, warm hands slipping down Dean's spine slowly, then sliding back up again, his fingertips dragging over Dean's skin as Cas pushed up the sweatshirt.

Dean sat up, pulling the sweatshirt off and tossing it aside, then fell back into Cas’ arms. They kissed slowly, and Dean shivered as Cas’ fingertips danced delicately over his ribs. Cas tasted like bacon and eggs and coffee, the sweetness of the vanilla syrup teasing him, and Dean lightly tugged on Cas’ hair, pulling a moan from his lips. Cas’ palms stroked up Dean's back in a slow, sweeping caress, then back down again to clutch at his hips. Dean could feel Cas smiling against his lips, and he pulled back a little, searching those beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, and Cas’ smile widened.

“Hi.” Cas’ smile turned mischievous, and Dean leaned in to steal another kiss. Cas hummed against his lips, nipping at Dean’s lower lip, and Dean felt the cosy warmth of love and happiness spark hotter with arousal. “How hungover are you, anyway?”

Dean pulled back a bit, nonplussed, then thought about it. 

“Headache’s mostly gone thanks to the Advil and breakfast. Stomach is maybe a little unsettled… Why, what's up?”

Cas snorted with laughter and then rolled his hips against Dean's, demonstrating quite clearly what was up. 

“I was just thinking about your request to suck my dick,” Cas said lightly, his eyes dancing with laughter. “Much as I love the idea, last thing I want to do is accidentally trip your gag reflex when you're not feeling the best.”

Dean started to protest that his skills were definitely up to the task, but then he imagined the consequences if he was wrong and grinned ruefully. 

“Raincheck then?” he asked, tugging Cas closer with a firm hand on his lower back, then sliding it down to squeeze his ass lightly, and Cas’ eyes darkened. 

“Absolutely,” he rumbled, then his hands snuck down Dean's back and slipped under the waistband of his borrowed lounge pants. His hands were big and hot on Dean's ass, and Dean shivered hard, his eyes closing unconsciously as he savoured the feeling. He rocked against Cas slowly, blindly seeking out his lips and opening for Cas' tongue. Cas deepened the kiss, his scruff scraping against Dean's skin, and Dean moaned quietly. 

They kissed slow and sweet, with all the time in the world. Dean traced his fingers lightly up Cas’ spine, feeling the way goosebumps were erupting under his touch even though Cas was still wearing a shirt. 

The shirt had to go, Dean decided. 

He gathered the age-worn cotton slowly, dragging it up Cas’ torso as he teased his fingertips over his skin. Cas shivered, his breath hitching a little, and Dean wondered what other sounds he could drag from those perfect lips. Cas sat up a little, and together, they managed to ditch his t-shirt. Dean pulled him down again for another kiss. The press of skin against skin drew a ragged groan from Dean, and he heard an echo of it from Cas. He dragged his thumb lightly over Cas’ chest, slowly circling a nipple, and Cas' voice skittered upward into a moan even as he pushed into Dean's touch. 

Dean might have felt smug at the way Cas was unravelling, but all that came through was awe and gratitude. Cas was giving him this, letting Dean touch him, kiss him, love him, and Dean’s hand trembled as he watched pleasure ripple across Cas’ face. 

“So beautiful, sweetheart,” he whispered, his heart overflowing with love as Cas’ head tilted back with a gasp when Dean lightly pinched a taut nipple. 

“Dean, please!” Cas moaned, and Dean cupped his jaw, waiting til Cas met his eyes again. He stroked feather-light over Cas’ cheekbone, marvelling at the blush that deepened at his touch.

“Anything, baby,” Dean promised.

Cas rolled Dean onto his back and straddled his hips suddenly, the thin fabric of their sleepwear doing less than nothing to hide their arousal. Dean moaned as his cock nestled snuggly between Cas’ cheeks, and Dean grabbed hold of Cas’ hips, a strangled sound escaping him as Cas shifted, leaning to the bedside table and pulling it open. He dug around for a moment, and when he leaned back, Dean bit back a curse, his cock throbbing against Cas’ ass. When his eyes uncrossed, he saw what Cas was holding and bit his lip roughly, his hands tightening on Cas’ hips. 

Cas held up a familiar bottle – Dean preferred Astroglide, too – and a strip of condoms.

“You up to me riding you?” Cas asked softly, biting his lip, and Dean’s hips bucked up against his ass of their own volition, demonstrating enthusiastically how up for it he was.

Dean‘s hands slid to Cas’ waist and tightened.

“My turn next time?” he countered, and watched as Cas’ cock twitched hard, a wet spot appearing where his pants were stretched over the thick head. A moment later, Cas dove in for another kiss, and he nipped Dean's lower lip roughly.

“Fuck, yes!” he growled, and Dean whimpered at the look of unadulterated lust in Cas’ eyes. He mustered up a smirk and rocked up against Cas, moaning at the friction as they slowly moved together. 

“You want a piece of this, Sunshine?” he teased. 

“I don't want a piece, Dean,” Cas corrected, kissing Dean slowly before he started to slide down his body, kissing and nibbling his way down Dean's chest. He paused to worship Dean’s nipples, and Dean squirmed, his hands tangling in Cas’ hair. When Cas finally moved lower, he lifted his eyes to meet Dean's and arched one eyebrow at him as he dropped gentle kisses to his slightly soft stomach. “I want all of it. I want to be greedy.” He sucked a mark just next to Dean's hip bone, and Dean's hips thrust restlessly. “I want to gorge myself on you,” he continued, his voice dropping even lower, and Dean thought he could cum just listening to Cas talk. 

Cas tugged on Dean's sleep pants, and Dean lifted his hips to let him pull them down his thighs. Cas nuzzled at the inside of his hip, just where it met his pelvis, and Dean closed his eyes for a second, trying to breathe as his cock dripped pre-cum onto his stomach.

“Caaaaas!” It was a plea torn from his lips as Cas deliberately brushed his cheek against Dean's cock. Cas kept talking, and Dean wanted to cry. 

“I want to suck your cock, I want to ride you, I want to rail you into the mattress.” 

Dean whimpered, tension coiling in his core, and he cried out as Cas finally wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly, his hand twisting on the upstroke. Fireworks burst behind Dean's eyelids, and he panted, gritting his teeth as he fought himself back from the edge. 

“Please, Cas!”

“I want to make love to you for hours, for days. I want you to scream my name.”

Cas rubbed his thumb just under the head of Dean's cock where it was most sensitive, and that's all she wrote. Dean gave him what he wanted.

“CAS!!”

Dean arched off the bed as his cock spurted, his balls drawn up tight as he shuddered his way through a blindingly hot orgasm.

When he could see again, he found Cas watching him smugly, licking his long fingers. Dean's cock throbbed at the erotic sight of Cas slowly lapping up Dean's cum, and then Cas bent and dragged his tongue over Dean's stomach. Dean whimpered.

“Sorry, Sunshine,” he said huskily, then stopped to clear his throat. “Gonna need to do a raincheck on you riding me off into the sunset, ‘cause Little Dean is dead for the day.”

Cas smirked, crawling up to lay next to Dean. He kicked off his sleep pants as well and tangled his legs with Dean's lazily. Dean could feel his cock like a hot, silk-covered iron bar against his thigh. Dean patted around the bed, then sat up with a frown. 

“Dean?” Cas asked, his tone hinting at a touch of worry. 

“Ah ha!” Dean announced, leaning across Cas and reaching toward the foot of the bed. He scooped up the lube and poured a bit into his hand. 

He wrapped his hand around Cas’ cock, watching his expression as his eyes closed with a blissful sigh, and he bit his lip, knowing he'd put that look on Cas’ face. 

“Mmm… Dean…” Cas moaned, rocking against Dean’s hip, dropping hot, clinging kisses to his shoulder, and Dean leaned in to kiss him roughly. As they parted with a gasp, Dean rolled onto his side away from Cas, then squirmed backwards. “Dean, what – ohh!”

Cas' question died with a moan as Dean lined up their bodies with Cas tightly against his back, then reached down to guide Cas’ cock between his legs. He crossed his ankles and clenched his thighs, tightening around Cas’ cock, and gave Cas a sultry look over his shoulder.

The look wasn't all that effective because Cas’ eyes had rolled back in his head as Dean ground his ass backwards, but Dean knew he’d given Cas his best come-fuck-me look. 

“Come on, cowboy,” Dean murmured, reaching back to grab Cas’ hip and pulling him forward. “Gonna come on my hole, sweetheart?”

The sound that tore itself from Cas’ throat as he wrapped an arm around Dean and started to thrust short-circuited Dean’s brain. It was caught somewhere between a growl and a hitched gasp of his name, the end of it trailing up into a moan as Dean flexed his thighs again, tightening the channel Cas was rutting into like a vise.

Cas’ hand splayed over Dean's heart, his forehead resting against the knob of Dean's spine, his breath fanning hot and damp over Dean's back. His cock was rubbing over Dean’s hole and taint, a delicious slide that sparked miniature lightning strikes under Dean's skin. Cas thrust shallowly, his breath coming faster, and Dean could feel arousal curling low in his gut, even if there was no way he was getting hard again just yet. He tilted his ass back again, moaning as Cas’ cock rocked against the back of his balls, and he wished he hadn't downed so many Jello shooters so he could talk Cas into fucking him properly.

“Next time,” Cas breathed against his ear, and Dean realised belatedly that he'd said that wish out loud. Cas nipped at his earlobe then sucked on the soft skin just below it, and Dean mewled, nodding frantically. “Next time, I'm gonna open you up on my tongue, then slide in slow and easy. Want to take you apart and piece you back together…”

Dean shuddered as Cas' cock dragged back over his hole, then slid forward again, the achingly deliberate pace never faltering. He could feel Cas’ thighs starting to twitch a little against his own, and he reached back further, grabbing hold of Cas’ ass and pulling him roughly forward. Heat was spiralling through him, tingling in his fingers and toes as it gathered at the base of his spine, and he wrapped his hand around his cock with a moan, stroking himself and palming over the head even as he rocked back to meet Cas' thrusts. He ground his ass back in a slow circle, changing the pressure on Cas’ cock, and Cas grabbed his hip with one hand, his fingers biting into Dean as Cas snapped, slamming his hips forward against Dean's ass over and over. 

“Fuck, Cas!” Dean moaned, his hand speeding up to match Cas’ frantic pace, and Cas bit roughly at his throat.

“Next time,” he growled, his voice shaking as his hips started to falter, “I'm going t-to spend hours worshipping every inch of your skin– fuck! Dean! – caressing you until all that tension melts away.” Dean whimpered, his head tilted back against Cas’ shoulder, his eyes closed as he chased the explosion he could feel building just out of reach. “I don't want to breathe unless it's from your lips.”

Dean couldn't breathe, his heart hammering in his chest, Cas’ name on his lips like a prayer. He felt more than heard the moan that slipped from Cas’ lips as he tensed at Dean’s back, then there was the hot splash of cum between his thighs. Dean groaned in response, then cried out as Cas’ hand cupped his balls, tugging on them lightly. He teetered at the precipice, needing only a little more… 

Then he felt Cas’ fingers sliding back behind his balls, scooping up the hot cum he’d dumped on Dean's taint, and he rubbed it over Dean's hole, the sensitive muscle clenching on nothing. 

Dean keened, a sound he'd maybe be embarrassed about later, but for now, all he could do was rock back against that gentle touch.

“CAS! Shove your cum into me!” he ordered, or maybe begged. His abs were tightening, his hand was soaked in pre-cum as his cock throbbed, and his balls drew up tight. “Please!”

“Fuck!” Cas muttered against his throat, and Dean howled as he felt two fingers pushing past his rim, sinking deep into him. 

His vision went white, his blood roaring in his ears, and his cock throbbed in his hand as the building tension in his core snapped. He shook in ecstasy, Cas’ lips hot against his ear, his words lost but the adoration in his voice coming through crystal clear. 

Dean trembled, boneless, and Cas murmured quietly against his ear. The buzzing in Dean's brain lessened a little as his heart slowed, and Cas' whispers started to sink in.

“–ful, my love. So perfect for me.” 

Covered in cum, Cas’ fingers still in his ass, Dean somehow managed to blush. Cas kissed his way down the slope of Dean's throat to his shoulder, endearments and praise dripping from his tongue, soaking into Dean like a gentle rain on parched earth.

“Cas?” Dean cleared his throat, swallowing against the ache left behind by his exultant cries. “Love you, Sunshine.”

He whined softly as Cas slowly, carefully withdrew his fingers from Dean's ass, and Cas chuckled softly, warmly, then pressed a light kiss to his shoulder. 

“I'll be right back, beloved,” he promised, slipping from the bed and leaving the room. 

Dean snuggled against Cas’ pillow, his eyes drifting shut.

~~

Cas returned with a washcloth, only to pause in the doorway, his heart melting as he realised Dean was once again wrapped around his pillow, his chest rising and falling with the slow cadence of sleep. Cas crossed to the bedside silently, easing himself down on the edge, and gently brushed Dean's hair back from his forehead. Dean smiled softly in his sleep, and Cas cleaned Dean's hand and stomach, then coaxed Dean into lifting his knee higher, giving Cas room to carefully clean up the lube and his own cum. 

Dean shivered, a soft, protesting grumble coming from his lips, and Cas bent to press a kiss to his forehead. He quickly walked back to the bathroom, rinsing the washcloth and wringing it out before draping it over the side of the tub, then hurried back to his bedroom. 

Dean had wormed his way under the blanket, but when Cas slipped into the room, his eyes opened a crack, and he smiled dreamily.

“M’awake. No leavin’ me t’sleep ‘lone again,” he mumbled, reaching out an arm and making a grabbing gesture with one hand before it dropped to the bed again, his eyes already closing.

Cas laughed softly and eased under the blanket, pulling Dean into his arms with a sigh. 

“Never again, if I have anything to say about it,” he murmured, nuzzling against Dean's hair. Dean's arms wrapped around his waist, his lips pressing softly over Cas’ heart. 

“Home.”

Cas liked the sound of that.