Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey Dean, good game today brother!” Benny exclaimed as he crossed the locker room.

Dean called out his thanks to his catcher, and smiled to himself as he took off his hat and started to unbutton his royal blue jersey. He may be on the older end of relief pitchers in the majors at 33 years old, but his arm had never felt better and he was having one of the best seasons of his career. 

And as the only openly bisexual player in Major League Baseball and with a supportive team and coaching staff, it just felt like Dean’s year. His team, the Toronto Blue Jays, had a shot at making the post-season this year, after being relatively uncompetitive the past several seasons.

There was an excited buzz in the locker room and he basked in the feeling of it. It had been a close game and their lead small in the last few innings. As the team’s Closer, he had pitched the final inning to help them maintain their lead and win the game. The cheers of the home crowd had been absolutely electric. 

As his team mates began to change out of their uniforms, members of the coaching staff entered the locker room, followed closely by a dark haired man in a navy blue suit, who appeared to be about Dean’s age. This new person in their midst gained the attention of the room, and the raucous noise quieted to interested murmurs. The stranger turned to face the team, and holy crap, that was the singular most attractive man Dean had ever seen. With a sharp stubbled jaw, piercing blue eyes and large pillowy lips, he ticked all of Dean’s boxes. 

He felt a sharp jab of an elbow in his side and he let out an ‘oof’ of air. He turned to see first baseman Andy Gallagher grinning at him, eyebrows wagging as he nodded towards the newcomer. Damnit, clearly Dean needed to be a little more subtle with his interest. He narrowed his eyes at Andy, who just laughed in delight at catching Dean staring. 

His head coach cleared his throat and Dean pulled his attention back to the group, trying (and failing) to keep his eyes off the handsome stranger.

“I don’t need to tell you all that you did good today. That was a helluva game. Every one of you played your asses off, and came together to get us that win. As you know, with the season more than half over, every game counts now more than ever and we have a good shot at the post season if we keep playing to this calibre,” head coach Bobby Singer said in his characteristic gruff voice. The team let out hoots and cheers. 

“All right, all right ya idjits. Now listen up. We have a new addition to the family.” He gestured to the man in the suit next to him. “As you know, our broadcaster Sportsnet has been looking for a new on-field reporter, and this here is him. He is coming to us from the MLB Network. Everyone welcome Castiel Novak.”

The team nodded their heads and called out greetings, and Coach Singer gestured to Mr. Novak to say a few words.

He stepped forward and looked around the locker room, making eye contact as he spoke. “Thank you Coach Singer,” he began, and Dean had to hold back a gasp. The man’s voice was incredibly deep and rough, with a gravitas that immediately drew the attention of those around him. Dean could feel a curl of heat in his stomach. With that voice and those looks, Dean could see why the man decided to be an on-camera reporter. The Toronto fans will love him. 

And Dean is so fucked.

“I am so excited to be working with the Toronto Blue Jays,” Mr. Novak continued. “I have been with the MLB Network for 10 years, but I was looking for a new experience, perhaps working at a more local level instead of in a broadcast studio. When your on-field reporter retired unexpectedly a few weeks ago, I immediately called up Sportsnet, and the rest is history. Your team is competitive while also having one of the best team cultures in the league, and I jumped at the incredibly unique opportunity to work with the only MLB team in Canada,” he finished with a smile that made his eyes crinkle in an endearing way. Dean’s mouth went dry, and he could hear Andy chuckling next to him.

“Shut up dude,” he hissed, smacking him lightly on his arm. The motion drew the attention of Mr. Novak, who looked towards the commotion and made eye contact with Dean for the first time. The intensity of his stare brought butterflies to Dean’s stomach and he could feel a blush start to burn up his cheeks and onto his ears. 

And he could swear Mr. Novak’s eyes widened slightly in response, and his lips parted. After what was likely just a few seconds but felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat and turned back to face the team and coaches to thank them one more time. 

Coach Singer told the team to hit the showers and be ready for practice the next afternoon before tomorrow night’s game, and the locker room filled with the din of conversation once more. A few of the more senior players approached Mr. Novak to introduce themselves, and as the team’s Closer, Dean should probably be one of them. But his legs just wouldn’t seem to cooperate. 

He turned to find Andy staring at him with a shit-eating grin on his face, and Dean shoved him playfully. Andy shoved him back, but the sneaky bastard ended up pushing Dean towards the group of coaches still talking with Mr. Novak. Dean turned and glared at Andy, who gave him a thumbs up. Dean scowled but he kept walking, waiting behind their star starting pitcher Max Banes while he spoke to the group. 

Once Max walked away, Dean stepped forward into Mr. Novak’s space. The man’s smile grew when he saw Dean, and he reached out with his hand in greeting. “Castiel Novak. And you’re Dean Winchester, one of the best Closers in the League,” he said as Dean grasped his hand to shake. The moment their hands connected, his skin began to tingle and that feeling of electricity spread all the way down to his toes.

Dean was momentarily speechless. Not only did this man know who he was, but he was even more handsome up close. His eyes were a beautiful blue that would look absolutely amazing in the team colours. He could get lost in those eyes. 

Dean realized he was staring, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, nice to meet you Mr. Novak. Welcome to Toronto.” 

“You can call me Castiel,” he responded, his voice even deeper than before. 

They stood there smiling at each other until Dean realized they still had their hands clasped together, and he reluctantly pulled his hand back, coughing awkwardly. “Well, uh. I guess I’ll see you around,” he said as he stepped back. 

Castiel smiled again, quickly letting his eyes roam down to Dean’s feet and back up to his eyes, pausing briefly on their journey to rest on Dean’s mouth. “You can count on it,” he replied as he slipped his hands into his pockets and pulled his bottom lip under his teeth.

Dean blushed and stumbled over his own feet as he turned to head back to his locker. When he got back over to Andy, the man was positively beaming at him. Looking around, Dean noticed a few of his other team mates watching him with smiles and winks. He flipped them off and turned to take off his cleats. He hung his jersey on the hook next to the worn photograph of him and Sammy taken on Dean’s first day in the Majors. 

Thankfully, the coaches finally left then, Castiel following close behind, but not before he sent one last glance at Dean over his shoulder. Those blue eyes would stay in Dean’s mind for days.

He headed to the showers to clean off (where he certainly will NOT think of the new reporter, no he will not, because that would be way too awkward in the communal showers). 

Dean sighed. What the fuck was he going to do now?

*****

Dean didn’t play the next few games, as his team played well and didn’t need any saves. He hung out in the bullpen during games with his fellow pitchers, leaning on the railing overlooking the outfield, sometimes talking strategy and analyzing the opposing team’s players, other times just shooting the shit. After each game, they crossed the field to meet the rest of the team in the diamond and head down to the locker room. 

He saw Castiel a few times during and after the games. Castiel would stand next to the field during breaks and Dean could see him talking into the camera, likely letting the audience at home know important stats and updated team info. He also interacted with the commentators in the broadcaster’s box up behind home plate. When he wasn’t on camera, he sat in the press box directly next to the Blue Jays dugout, watching video on several small tv screens.

Tonight he was currently on the field interviewing one of Dean’s team mates, Aaron Bass, who had hit the home run that won them the game. As Castiel talked to him, a few of the other players ran up behind the duo with a large orange Gatorade jug and dumped the cold liquid on Aaron, much to the delight of the remaining crowd that hadn’t left the stands yet.

Unfortunately, the ‘Gatorade Shower’ as it was affectionately called, was not a precise thing and a bunch of the drink missed Aaron, instead splashing onto Castiel’s shoulder and chest and drenching his shirt and suit jacket. Dean watched to see Castiel’s reaction: a bad one would be disastrous PR with the fans. 

Luckily Castiel just yelped and then let out a deep chuckle, not even missing a beat as he went back to his interview. Dean could tell that his reaction instantly endeared him to his interviewee as well as the fans, who laughed and cheered for him from their seats. 

As Dean walked closer, he noticed the way Castiel’s Gatorade-soaked shirt clung to his body, accentuating his surprisingly fit build. He didn’t even realize he had stopped walking, until the interview ended and he found Castiel’s eyes on him. 

Dean blushed and gave him an awkward little wave, and Castiel grinned and waved back. Dean ducked his head with a smile and turned to walk down into the dugout and further into the hallway that led to the locker room.

And so it went for the next few series of both home and away games. Their eyes would meet as Dean made the long walk across the field to the dugout after each game while Castiel completed his post-game duties on camera. Occasionally he would see Castiel in the halls, speaking with coaching staff or his broadcast coworkers. 

Sometimes Dean would go home afterwards and fast forward through the game on his DVR, stopping to watch anytime Castiel was on screen. He couldn’t help it: the man was magnetic and just so devastatingly handsome. 

Watching Castiel from afar was Dean’s routine until one game, when Dean was called upon in the final inning to pitch and save the lead to win the game for his team. He warmed up quickly in the bullpen, strolled onto the field to his walk up song (‘Ramble On’ of course, he wasn’t going to tempt fate and change that good luck charm until he needed to), and pitched an incredible inning, only allowing one walk, no hits and no runs. 

When the end of game victory horn loudly sounded, the stadium erupted in raucous cheers, and his team mates rushed the pitching mound to celebrate. They slapped him on the back in congratulations, and then they all walked down the line of their team mates that had come out from the dugout, giving each one enthusiastic high fives, before Dean then headed off the field.

He stayed in the dugout after his coach signaled that Dean would need to do a post-game interview, since he had saved the game. He watched as his team mate Garth Fitzgerald, who hit the go ahead run to put them in the lead, talked to Castiel with the microphone and camera pointed at him. 

Then it was Dean’s turn, and he realized with a gulp that this would be his first time being interviewed on camera by their new on-field reporter. 

Dean tried to swallow down his bundle of nerves; he had done many on-camera interviews before and he was damn good at them, always charismatic, excellent at the back and forth banter with the interviewer. He had a great game today. He was only nervous because of Castiel and his damn gorgeous face and sexy as hell voice. Fuck. 

He took a deep breath, buried the butterflies that threatened to escape his stomach, and stepped out of the dugout back onto the turf. Castiel greeted him with a dazzling smile, and gestured for him to stand next to him as he introduced Dean to the camera. 

Dean’s ‘public persona’ mask slipped on effortlessly as Castiel began the interview, but that didn’t stop him from sneaking glances at Castiel while he was clearly in his element (and Castiel’s still-wet clinging shirt, so sue him).

“Dean Winchester, another fantastic save today! Talk us through your mindset as you entered the game in the 9th inning,” Castiel asked, holding his microphone out to Dean and giving him his undivided attention as Dean responded.

Dean made eye contact with Castiel before answering and he caught himself staring at those too-blue eyes. Dean coughed and snapped himself out of it, hoping the pause was not too obvious on camera. 

“Well, Cas,” he began, and he noticed Castiel freeze briefly. Oh shit, did he just call him ‘Cas’ instead of Castiel?? He tried not to react, knowing the camera was on him. 

He quickly continued. “I just try to drown out the noise, focus on what I’m here to do, and that's to support my team. They’ve done the work all game to get us a lead, and it’s up to me to help them finish it and get us all that win. I may be the one that throws the pitch, but it’s the knowledge of my catcher and the talent and skill of the infield and outfield that makes this team so great: I wouldn’t be the Closer I am without them. They make me better in every way.” 

And he means that too - it’s not just the usual platitudes that good media training instills in players. Dean is a great pitcher but it’s a team sport, and he knows he is extremely fortunate to be with this Blue Jays team. 

Castiel smiled in response, and Dean could tell that it was genuine, not just for the camera. Maybe he could tell Dean meant what he said. Dean found himself hoping he did. 

They held eye contact again and after a few moments, Dean could see the camera operator wave at them to continue. Castiel quickly got back to the interview and Dean prayed that the heat he could feel in his cheeks didn’t show on his face. 

“The team is heading on the road to New York next. How will you approach this series against division rival Yankees?” Castiel asked. 

He once again held his microphone out to Dean to answer, which brought him closer to Dean and he could feel the heat of Castiel’s body next to him. His skin broke out in goosebumps, just the man’s presence sending an electric pulse through Dean’s body.

“Well, this of course will be an important series as we’re neck in neck for the division lead. They’re an elite team, they’ll make us work for it, but we are absolutely up for the challenge. The fans are always in store for some great baseball in the Bronx,” Dean replied, in the diplomatic way he’d be trained to do, but with a smile and a little wink as well - that small bit of patented Dean Winchester charm mixed with snark that he knows the fans love.

Castiel brought the microphone back to himself. “Well I know I can speak on behalf of the Toronto fans, but we can’t wait to see some great baseball on this road trip. Thank you so much Dean, I’ll see you in New York.” 

Castiel grinned at Dean, before he turned back to address the camera, ending his interview and throwing it back to the studio. Once the camera operator dropped the camera down and walked away, Dean made to head back to the dugout, but he was stopped by a hand to his left bicep.

“Thank you so much Dean,” Castiel began, his on-screen persona gone. “I just wanted to say, it was a pleasure watching you pitch today. Your focus, the way you control the ball… it’s an incredible sight. I hope I’m not out of line when I tell you that one of the reasons I took the job here with the Jays is because of you.” 

There was a beautiful blush on his cheeks but not a trace of embarrassment or regret in his eyes, which stared into Dean’s own with such intensity that Dean felt his legs go weak. 

“Oh uh…I um… no you’re not… not out of line, Cas,” Dean stuttered, bowing his head to hide his own blush. He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, an old nervous habit he thought he had kicked when he started playing pro ball. 

Clearly, Castiel had an effect on him that was unexpected but not at all unwelcome. He was Dean Winchester, one of the best relievers in the League. He was cool and calm under pressure. But this gorgeous man turned him into a shy, bumbling mess; like an awkward teenager talking to their first crush.

Castiel’s answering smile was positively radiant, and Dean was instantly addicted to it. Dean knew that smile was just for him, not the on-camera smile of Castiel Novak, on-field reporter. 

“Okay, well good. I look forward to working with you the rest of the season, Dean. And I hope to get to know you more off the field too, if you’re amenable to it,” Castiel said as he took a small step closer to Dean.

‘Amenable’? Dean wanted to tease him for such formal language but he just found it adorable. Oh, fuck he likes this man so much already. Dean took an answering step towards Castiel, and they ended up in each other’s personal space. 

“I think I’d like that, Cas.” His tongue flicked out to trace his bottom lip, and he watched as Castiel’s eyes followed the movement. Dean could feel an almost gravitational pull towards Castiel, and he wanted nothing more than to close the distance. Castiel reached a hand out towards Dean, and Dean felt his eyes begin to close…

“Hey, Winchester! Hustle up, Coach Singer wants you in the locker room!” Aaron called from the dug out. 

Dean and Castiel jumped apart, quickly realizing they were still on the field in full view. Castiel cleared his throat and turned to walk away, but not before he gave Dean a soft smile that pulled up just the one corner of his mouth. 

Dean shook himself and started to walk back to the dugout. A few fans still milled about in the stands and when he made eye contact with a small group, they smiled and winked at him, one of them gesturing towards Castiel’s retreating form. 

Well, so much for subtly. Dean sighed. At least the fans were being supportive so far. He had to chuckle at the situation. 

He entered the dug out where Aaron was waiting for him after he had interrupted Dean and Castiel. Aaron wolf-whistled at Dean and tossed an arm around Dean’s shoulders as they walked down into the hall to the locker room, teasing him incessantly about what he had just witnessed on the field.

*****

Dean did not get an opportunity to play in New York, but the team ended up winning two out of the three games to win the series, and that was all that mattered to him in the end. He sat in the bullpen each game, and tried to subtly keep his eye out for Castiel. The team on-field reporter didn’t travel to every away game, but this series was important so the network had him accompany the team. 

After the final game, an afternoon match, Dean crossed the field from the bullpen to the visiting team dugout. He watched Castiel on the field as he interviewed the catcher Benny, who not only had a great game behind the plate, he also hit a Grand Slam to win the game. Dean slowed his steps so he could admire Castiel as he spoke, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious. 

Castiel wore another navy suit tonight (it seemed to be his ‘thing’) and the bright blue tie in ‘Blue Jays blue’ made his eyes glow in the sunshine of the late afternoon. He looked so handsome, it took Dean’s breath away.

Castiel looked up as Benny answered one of his questions and caught Dean watching him. He smiled brightly before turning back to focus on his interview. Dean felt the butterflies flutter fast in his stomach as he made his way down into the tunnel to the locker room to shower and change. 

The team was scheduled to play Tampa next, so later that evening they boarded the team’s chartered plane to head south to Florida. Dean had a love/hate relationship with road trips: he loved travel, seeing different cities and playing different ballparks. But Dean absolutely HATED flying. He had gotten better at it since he made it to the MLB, but he still needed to take medication to relax on the plane. 

Even after all these years, there was still something so unnatural about hurtling through the air in a glorified tin can with wings. If traveling by car, bus or train for away games was even remotely a logistical option, he would forgo flying in a heartbeat (especially if he could drive his Baby, that would be the dream!). 

When they arrived at the airport, Dean got off the team bus and crossed the tarmac to the team plane. Once onboard, he found his seat next to a window and immediately tossed back a few of his meds. Hopefully they would kick in before the plane took off or soon after, and he could just zone out the entire flight or better yet, pass out and miss the journey entirely. 

He could hear the various clanks and buzzes of the plane as the crew prepared it for the flight, and he gripped the arm rest with white knuckles. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths in through his nose and out his mouth, and slouched in his seat.

He felt the seat next to him move with the weight of someone sitting down. Without opening his eyes, he greeted his team mate. “Hey, Benny. Just ignore me, you know the drill,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

Instead of Benny’s low southern drawl, a deep gravelly voice answered him. 

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes flew open in surprise, and he turned to the seat next to him to find Castiel, a sheepish look on his face. 

“Oh, uh hey Cas,” Dean replied, sitting upright quickly which caused him to bang his knee on the seat in front of him. He saw Castiel wince in sympathy.

“I am sorry for the intrusion, but I hoped we could sit together for the flight?” Castiel asked, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I may have bribed Mr. Lafitte to give up his seat. I can switch back with him if it’s an imposition. I do not want to overstep.”

Dean opened his mouth to respond but he couldn’t seem to get any words out. The surprise of seeing Castiel next to him mixed with the meds starting to make him feel a little fuzzy at the edges had rendered him somewhat speechless. 

Misconstruing his silence as rejection, Castiel’s shoulders drooped and he began to stand up. Thankfully Dean still had enough of his wits about him that he was able to quickly reach out and grab Castiel’s arm, pulling him back into his seat. Dean smiled softly and Castiel returned it. 

“Nah Cas, it’s all good. I was just surprised, and a little tired,” Dean laughed, settling back into his own seat.

“My apologies Dean. If you need to rest or sleep during the flight, I understand. I’ll be happy just to sit next to you,” Castiel said earnestly.

Dean could feel the blush building on his face, and turned his face briefly to the window to hide it. Unfortunately that reminded him that he was indeed on a plane, one that was currently taxiing towards the runway and picking up speed. 

He let out a little gasp and his hands clamped back down on the handrests. His body tensed as the plane took off down the runway and went airborne at a steep angle (this was always the worst part). The meds had kicked in but his body was fighting them and he realized in horror that he could feel his body trembling slightly. 

Suddenly he felt a hand cover his own, squeezing firmly. He opened his eyes and looked down to see Castiel’s hand on his own. He gazed up at Castiel, who looked back at him with concern and such raw, non-judgemental empathy and compassion, it made Dean’s racing heart slow back down. 

He took a deep breath, turning his hand palm up and opening his fingers, inviting Castiel to link them together. Castiel obliged, his smile so radiant it made his nose crinkle, which just caused those damn butterflies to spring to life in Dean’s stomach again. 

Castiel didn’t say a word, just sat next to Dean and gently rubbed his thumb in slow, soothing circles over the skin of Dean’s hand as he held it. The gentle gesture made Dean finally start to relax and as the plane leveled out, he felt much more at ease. 

Castiel didn’t let go of his hand even as he felt Dean calm down, and Dean wasn’t going to tell him to move it. He’d let Castiel keep his hand there the entire flight if he wanted to.

He looked over at Castiel and his breath caught. The deep yellow and orange light of the sunset coming through the window illuminated the man with a soft glow, making his already tan skin look warm and inviting. He looked ethereal. 

Or maybe that was just the medication, which he could feel making his body numb. Dean shook his head. No, that was just Castiel. His angel.

Castiel chuckled. “Angel?”

Oh fuck. Did he say that out loud??

“Yes you did, Dean,” Castiel replied with an amused smile. 

Dean was mortified and he covered his face with his free hand. “Ah fuck sorry Cas. As you have probably already guessed, I don’t like flying. I may have taken something to chill me out for the flight.”

Castiel squeezed his hand. “That’s all right, Dean. Aerophobia is very common. It must be especially hard for you with how much you need to travel by plane for games,” he said gently. “I worked with an anchor at the MLB Network - he was actually a former Hall of Famer - who has such a crippling fear of flying that he purposefully made the move to work in the studio so he could avoid traveling to games. He said he did enough of ‘that shit’ in his baseball career,” Castiel explained with a laugh. 

Dean smiled at Castiel’s use of air quotes. This man was just so adorable. And kind. And hot, so fucking hot. Thankfully he managed to keep those thoughts to himself this time. 

He leaned closer to Castiel and said with only the slightest slur of his voice, “Thanks, Cas. I’m uh… I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am too Dean. How about you try to rest now. I’ll watch over you.”

Dean nodded gratefully. He leaned his head back on the head rest of his seat, and closed his eyes, slowly succumbing to the pleasant haze in his mind.

Castiel would watch over him.

******

Dean awoke with a start as the wheels of the plane touched down on the tarmac in Tampa. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he realized that in his nap, he had leaned even closer to Castiel, his head now entirely resting on the man’s broad left shoulder. He glanced down to see that their hands were still linked hours later, and the sight made his heart skip a beat. Dean slowly lifted his head off Castiel’s shoulder, an apology on his lips.

“Don’t apologize Dean,” Castiel murmured quietly, taking the words right out of Dean’s mouth. “I would have woken you if I needed to move. Though I can’t think of anything that would have caused me to do so,” he finished with a soft smile, his eyes full of affection.

Dean could not tear himself away from Castiel’s gaze if he tried. Where did this man come from, and what did Dean do to deserve such a kind, gentle man like him? They sat there just quietly watching each other as the plane made its way to where it would meet the team’s buses that would take them all to the hotel for the night. 

Once the plane stopped, Dean’s team mates began to stand up and collect their belongings, the din of chatter increasing in volume, but Dean and Castiel didn’t move just yet, content to spend as much time together before they had to deplane. 

“Hey lovebirds, move yer asses! Night’s not getting any younger,” Coach Singer grumbled next to their seats. They jumped apart in surprise, hands separating for the first time since the plane took off in New York.

“Sorry, Coach, we’re coming,” Dean replied, chastised and thoroughly embarrassed. Bobby narrowed his eyes at Dean, but Dean could see the glimmer of humour on his face, almost hidden underneath the old team ball cap on his head. Bobby turned and kept walking up the aisle to the plane door, muttering under his breath. As he walked away, Dean realized that the plane had completely cleared out, and he and Castiel hustled to grab their carry-on baggage and hurried off the plane. 

They walked down the stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting buses, only one with its door still open. Dean climbed on first but stopped on the top step when he saw his team mates had left two seats together at the front of the bus for him and Castiel. He paused and looked around the bus at his team mates, who in turn gave him a range of smiles, winks, and even a few obscene gestures. He rolled his eyes and flipped them off affectionately.

Dean sat down near the window and Castiel slid in next to him, mirroring their positions on the plane. He glanced over at Castiel and shrugged his shoulders in apology for his team mates. Castiel just laughed and shook his head in mock exasperation. 

The bus pulled away from the Tampa airport and headed for their hotel. Dean didn’t know if it was the lingering effects of the medication, or the high of spending time with Castiel, but he felt emboldened. 

He leaned over to Castiel and whispered, “Hey Cas, can I admit something to you?”

Castiel tilted his head closer to Dean. “Of course Dean, you can tell me anything,” he responded with sincerity, his face serious.

“Well… um. I may… I may also be afraid of buses.” He winked at Castiel and gave him a flirty smile.

Castiel stared at him for a moment before he chuckled, totally onto Dean’s charade. He reached over to take Dean’s hand in his own, resting them on the seat between them. Dean grinned in triumph, and turned to watch the city go by out the bus window.

***

The team won two out of the four games in Tampa, making it a series tie. There had not been a lot of down time in between games and training and media obligations, but Dean managed to see Castiel a few times, including a short coffee date the morning before the last game. It had ended with Castiel placing a sweet kiss on Dean’s cheek, that absolutely did NOT leave him blushing and speechless. 

They had also exchanged numbers finally, so at least when they could not talk in person, they could send each other messages (and in Castiel’s case, a surprising amount of emojis for a grown man). 

Dean had only played one game in the series: the third game had gone into extra innings and the Jays had a small lead, so Dean was brought into the game to save it. He didn’t play as well as usual, the opposing team earning a run off him, but he managed to record the rest of the outs to win the game. 

Dean was still hard on himself though, a little quieter than usual during his on-field post game interview with Castiel, who had stopped him once the camera turned off. Dean had tried to shrug it off but Castiel just gave him a look of understanding and a brief brush of his hand down Dean’s arm, and Dean had felt his mood instantly begin to improve. He had given Cas a grateful smile before he went to the dugout.

Since the final game had been in the evening, they had a day off the following day to allow for travel from Tampa back to Toronto. Dean left the ballpark after the game and returned to his hotel room to decompress and get some sleep before their early morning flight. He made sure he had all his belongings packed up, set his phone to silent, changed into some thin sleep pants and a threadbare Metallica tee, and reclined on the bed to watch some mindless TV. 

Two episodes into a mini Doctor Sexy marathon and half way to falling asleep, there was a soft knock on his door. Confused (it was midnight after all), he got up off the bed and walked barefoot over to the door to check the peephole. Grinning, he hurriedly unlocked the door and swung it open, then leaned his body against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Well, hey there Cas. Fancy meeting you here,” he greeted with a wink.

Castiel smiled with uncharacteristic shyness, his hands in his jean pockets as he rocked back on back on his heels. 

“Hello Dean. I apologize for just dropping by, but you weren’t answering my texts, and I know you could have been sleeping but I thought I’d come by anyway and check, and now I’m realizing that this was probably a silly idea and maybe I should go…” he rambled before trailing off.

He took a step back and Dean could tell he was about to walk away, so he reached out and grabbed a handful of Castiel’s button-down shirt and tugged him out of the hallway and into Dean’s room. He closed the door and leaned against it, his hand still grasping Castiel’s shirt. He pulled Castiel towards him, until he stood in the V of Dean’s legs. 

“Not a silly idea at all Cas. In fact, this is probably the best idea you’ve ever had,” Dean murmured, looking up at Castiel through his eyelashes. Castiel gazed at him with an intensity that made Dean pulse with want, before he closed the distance between them. 

The first touch of Castiel’s lips was a revelation. They were soft and gentle at first, with one of his hands cradling Dean’s cheek, the other on the nape of his neck. Their kisses soon turned passionate, and Castiel used his body to hold Dean against the door, both hands now in Dean’s hair, grasping desperately. Dean wrapped his hands around Castiel’s waist and moved them up his back, feeling the muscles in his shoulders as they moved. Castiel licked at Dean’s mouth and Dean opened to him, their kiss becoming even deeper. Dean felt like he was on fire and he welcomed the heat, wanted to be consumed by it, by Castiel.

A neighbouring room door banged closed, the loud echoing noise startling them out of their embrace. They looked at each other and laughed, and Castiel leaned forward to rest his forehead on Dean’s shoulder. 

They took a few moments to enjoy the closeness and catch their breath, and then Castiel stepped back and took Dean’s hand, leading him further into the hotel room. He sat on the bed and pulled Dean down next to him. He rubbed his thumb on the back of Dean’s hand where they were still clasped together.

“Not that I am complaining about the events that just transpired, but please know Dean that I did not come here with any expectations,” Castiel said earnestly, watching the movement of his thumb. “I just… I just wanted to see you, away from the lights of the ball park and the cameras, from our colleagues, the fans…”

Dean leaned forward and waited until Castiel looked up and made eye contact with him again. He wanted to make sure Castiel saw the sincerity on his face. “I get it, Cas. I don’t have any expectations either. I am happy to see where this goes, take our time if that’s what we both want.”

He paused, taking a deep breath before he continued. “I haven’t had a good track record with relationships, especially since I started playing in the MLB. I don’t have a lot of time, between training and games and travel… but I… I want this. I want you.”

The answering smile that Dean received was blinding. It made lovely lines crinkle around Castiel’s eyes and on the bridge of his nose.  

“I want that too, Dean. Very much. I know it may be difficult to navigate with our very public lives, and the fact that we work together. But I want to know everything there is to know about you. I want to be with you whenever we can get the chance. And we’ll figure out everything else as we go.” 

He cupped Dean’s cheek with his free hand, gently caressing Dean’s cheek with his thumb, then dipping down to trace his bottom lip. Dean shuddered and closed his eyes. Everywhere Castiel touched tingled in his wake. Castiel leaned forward and kissed him sweetly, reverently. They stayed in this embrace until Dean broke the kiss with a wide yawn. 

Castiel chuckled. “It is very late and we have an early flight. Perhaps I should be going.” He made to stand up, but Dean stopped him.

“Stay, Cas,” he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Stay.”

Castiel looked like he wanted to argue, but he quickly gave in and nodded. Dean got up off the bed and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a tee for Castiel to change into, and he retired to the bathroom to change while Dean pulled back the covers and turned off the tv. 

When Castiel returned, Dean took a moment to admire how he looked in Dean’s clothes. Castiel noticed him watching and ducked his head with a bashful grin. They crawled into the bed and Dean turned off the lamp. The curtains had been left open and the moon bathed them in soft silver light as they laid side by side on their backs - that is, until Dean decided to throw caution to the wind. 

He rolled onto his side and moved across the bed next to Castiel, hesitating briefly before he rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder. He waited for Castiel to tell him to move, but he just let out a contented sigh. His body relaxed and he wound his arm around Dean’s shoulder, pulling him even closer. Dean smiled into Castiel’s shirt, and lifted his arm up to rest it on Castiel’s chest. 

They settled into each other, and Dean was surprised how easy it felt, how right. Pretty soon, he let sleep overtake him, but not before he felt a gentle kiss in his hair.

****

The next few weeks were a blur of almost daily games, training practices, and media interviews. Dean tried to make time to see Castiel whenever their crazy schedules allowed; stealing moments in deserted hallways, sending texts at all hours of the day, hanging out at each other’s apartments, cuddling on the couch while they talked about everything and nothing. It was just so domestic and Dean couldn’t be happier. 

The club owners, broadcaster, coaching staff and players all knew about their growing relationship. And while Dean endured an endless amount of teasing, he was so immensely grateful for the support of his team, especially since there was still a lot of discrimination within the League and among some baseball fans. 

Before he knew it, the end of September had arrived and with it, the last two series of the regular season. His team had worked incredibly hard all year, and they were three wins away from clinching a guaranteed spot in the post-season. There was a buzz in the locker room and in the dugout, a palpable excitement that bled out into the stands each game. Their remaining games were all at home in Toronto, and were either sold out or close to. 

That also meant that the pressure was on, and Dean tried not to let it get to his head. His role on the team was of course important all year, but these last few games could make or break them, and being the Closer meant he usually had only one inning to get his team that win. If he fucked up, it could cost them all a spot in the post-season and a chance to go all the way to the World Series. It was a heavy weight on his already tense shoulders. 

And to add onto that pressure: Toronto had not won a World Series since 1993, and being Canada’s only MLB team, the entire country’s hopes were pinned on him and his team mates.

The first game of three was intense, a tight game right down to the wire. With a one point lead going into the final inning, Dean was called in to get the last three outs to win the game. As he left the bullpen in the outfield and walked towards the pitching mound to his walk up music, he took a deep breath and tried to focus on his task. 

The deafening roar of the crowd normally hyped him up, but today he could feel it almost closing in on him, adding more weight to bear on his shoulders. When he reached the pitcher’s mound, he began his quick warmup routine with his catcher, trusting Benny to help guide him through getting ready. 

They got the signal for the start of the inning, and he shook his body out, trying to loosen it and reign in his nerves. This is what he was good at, this is why he was here on this mound. His eyes wandered briefly, and found Castiel across the diamond to his right, in the small press area next to the dugout where he stood during commercial breaks to give live on-camera reports to the audience at home in front of their televisions, or to sit and watch video on his screen. 

Despite the distance, he saw Castiel watching him. He smiled and gave Dean an almost imperceptible nod of encouragement. Dean sent him an appreciative grin back, and he felt the noise and lights of the ballpark fade away. All that remained was the calm focus that came with being entirely locked into the moment.

Dean pitched perfectly, striking out the side to end the inning quickly, saving the lead and the win for his team. The loud ball park horn sounded the win, and his team rushed the mound to celebrate together. One win down, two to go.

He got the signal from the dugout that he needed to do a post-game interview, so he stayed on the field. The stands were slow to clear, with a lot of fans sticking around to take selfies or try to get autographs from the players. 

He walked over to Castiel where he stood with his camera operator and a few press photographers in front of the dugout.

“Hey, Cas. Ready for me?” he asked with a particularly lascivious wink. What? He just won a super important game, so sue him. 

“Hello Dean. Yes, we’ll get the cue in just a moment,” Castiel replied, clearly trying to remain professional, but Dean could see him holding back a smile. 

That just made Dean grin, and he locked eyes with Castiel and waggled his eyebrows. He watched as Castiel tried and failed to keep his composure, and he nearly fist pumped in victory when Castiel chuckled and shook his head.

Castiel got his cue through the ear piece he wore that linked him to the broadcast booth, and he brought the microphone up and squared his shoulders, as he waited for the countdown to going live. Once the red light appeared on the camera, Castiel looked into the camera and began.

“Thank you. We are here of course with someone who needs no introduction. Dean, congratulations on the important win today. The team is now only two games from clinching a spot in the post-season, which would be your first time with Toronto. How are you feeling after today’s game, and going into the final games of the season?”

Dean nodded along as Castiel asked his question, and then smiled as he began his answer. “I’m feeling good, Cas. We really needed this W today and the whole team is firing on all cylinders right now. I couldn’t be more proud of the guys. They’ve worked hard all year to get us this far, now we just need to focus and do our best to win these last two games and get our team and our fans into the post-season.”

“I know I speak for all of Toronto, and well, all of Canada, when I say we have faith in this team and no matter what happens in these last two series, I hope the team knows just how proud we are of them,” Castiel responded, his blue eyes locked on Dean, successfully conveying his double meaning.

Dean blushed and ducked his head. He looked back up at Castiel with a soft expression. “Yeah, Cas. We know. And we’re grateful for all the support. It means everything to us.”

They held each other’s gazes with smiles on their faces, the lights and sounds of the ballpark fading away until it was just the two of them. Not Dean Winchester, elite pitcher, or Castiel Novak, team reporter; just Dean and Castiel.

That was until the camera operator started to frantically wave to get their attention once again. Castiel thankfully noticed and quickly cleared his throat, his ears turning a bright shade of pink. 

“Um uh yes well thank you Dean,” he said, and turned to address the camera. “Let’s head back to the studio for the post-game show.” 

When the camera operator walked away (not before giving them a knowing look and a teasing grin), Castiel let the hand holding his microphone drop to his side and he sighed, chin dropping to his chest. Dean stepped closer and nudged him playfully with his elbow. Castiel looked up at Dean and once they made eye contact, they both burst out laughing. 

“I hope it wasn’t that obvious to the viewers at home that I can’t take my eyes off you Dean. I really need to be more professional,” Castiel chuckled, his free hand coming up to cover his face in embarrassment.

Dean laid a hand on Castiel’s arm and pulled him closer. Castiel let out a small gasp, but Dean didn’t care who saw. This beautiful, kind, supportive man had become everything to him in such a short amount of time. It was worth the risk. He was worth the risk.

“You’re a consummate professional, Cas. Don’t worry,” Dean assured him. “You know the team and the broadcaster are okay with this, with us. If they weren’t we would have heard something by now.” 

He inched even closer. “As long as I don’t say something on air like how much I want you to fuck me, I think we’re in the clear.”

Castiel’s eyes went wide and he sputtered in surprise at Dean’s words. “Dean!” he admonished, while Dean burst out laughing. 

Castiel tried but failed to keep a stern look on his face. Dean watched, completely enamoured, as his handsome face broke into a smile that spread wide to crinkle his nose as he began to laugh. 

Dean knew he would do just about anything to bring a smile like that to Castiel’s face as often as possible. 

His fondness must have shown on his face, because Castiel’s smile softened, before quickly turning predatory. His eyes darkened and he raised an eyebrow in an arch that made an electric shock of want pulse through Dean’s body. 

Castiel leaned in close and whispered hoarsely in Dean’s ear. “If you had said that to me on air Dean, I would not have been able to stop myself from saying how much I want that too,” he murmured, his lips brushing ever-so-lightly on Dean’s ear with each word. Dean shuddered and he felt Castiel grin against the spot where his ear met his jaw. 

Dean closed his eyes to compose himself as Castiel stepped back. When he opened them again, Castiel had a sly grin on his face. He knew exactly what he was doing to Dean. That bastard.

“You bastard,” he growled, though there was no heat behind his words.

“Don’t start anything if you don’t want to play the game, Dean,” Castiel responded, still grinning. He walked backwards a few steps, holding eye contact with Dean, before he turned and walked away. 

Well, damn. 

Dean shook himself out of it, headed down into the dugout to the locker room. He hit the showers quickly and changed into a pair of team sweats and a tee. 

As he gathered his belongings from his locker, one of the assistant coaches came to tell him that he was needed in one of the meeting rooms. This was not standard procedure after a game, and after the flirting between Dean and Cas on camera (and well, off camera too) after the game, he felt a wave of dread and panic wash over him as he headed through the hallways. 

He entered the meeting room to find Castiel already seated at the table, across from a woman with familiar red hair and a Star Wars t-shirt. 

They turned to look at him as he walked in and sat down next to Castiel, who looked just about as nervous as Dean.

“What’s up Charles? How can we help our esteemed Social Media Manager this fine evening,” he greeted with his usual snark. 

He refused to show his nerves. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe she just wanted to talk to them about doing some promotion. He felt Castiel give his foot a reprimanding little kick under the table.

Charlie glared at him, arms crossed, clearly waiting. He sat silently in defiance, staring her down until he finally broke first. He sighed with overexaggerated defeat. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. “How can we help you this evening, my Queen?”

Castiel glanced over at him in confusion at the honorific. “I’ll explain later,” Dean muttered. Castiel looked a little bewildered but he turned his attention back to Charlie.

Charlie grinned and clapped with delight. “Patience, handmaiden. I’m getting to it.”

Again Castiel looked at Dean with confusion, his head tilted to the side and his brow furrowed. He looked like a confused owl and Dean had to try not to laugh. It should not be possible for a grown man to look so adorable.

“So, first off I want to say, as your friend: I am so fracking happy for you!!” she squealed.

“Uh, thanks I guess?” Dean replied. “The team did really well today.”

She rolled her eyes. “Dean, come on. You know that’s not what I mean.” She grinned at him and Castiel, who had turned a deep shade of red.

“Miss Bradbury, I assure you, our relationship will not impact our ability to do our jobs. If we need to sign some sort of waiver…” Castiel answered hurriedly.

Charlie held up her hand to stop him. “It’s not needed, Castiel. Don’t worry. I’m not here about that. Well, I am, but not in that way.”

“Charlie, please. It’s been a long day and it’s getting late, what’s so urgent that it can’t wait until tomorrow?” Dean pleaded.

“Okay, okay!” she capitulated. “So I know you two grandpas don’t really pay attention to social media - you don’t even have your own accounts but that’s not the point right now. The point is, social media has been going crazy over you two the past few weeks. And after today’s game, you’re even trending.”

At their confused looks, she sighed and stood up, reaching across the table to hold out her tablet to show them the ‘Trending’ topics list. #BlueJays was near the very top, which made sense with their win tonight. She then scrolled down, and there she pointed to a hashtag labelled #Destiel. Castiel’s brow furrowed again and Dean looked up at Charlie. 

“I don’t get it.”

She rolled her eyes again. “Get it? ‘Destiel’?” Neither man replied and she chuckled. “Boy you two are hopeless. ‘Destiel’: Dean + Cas, see? The fans have given you a ship name!! This is amazing news!”

“Ship name?” Castiel asked, looking so completely lost.

Charlie laughed at his expression. “See, what did I tell you? You’re such grandpas! A ship name basically just means that the fans like your relationship enough to create a ‘ship’ name for you, which they do by combining your names. If you paid attention to any pop culture, it happens all the time with fictional characters, celebrities etc.”

Dean and Castiel looked at each other and then back at Charlie.

“Okay that’s all fine and dandy Charlie. What does this mean for us? Why do we even need to know? I feel like what the fans want to do on Twitter or Facebook or whatever doesn’t really impact us if it doesn’t have anything to do with the game itself,” Dean replied, his frustration building. 

“It’s frankly rather embarrassing,” Castiel added. 

“Well you’re public figures, guys. Everything and anything said about you online matters, or I wouldn’t have a job,” she admonished gently. “I’m only telling you this so you know that the fans have noticed. I also wouldn’t be surprised if the team uses this new popularity for some promotion, it’s good press for them.” 

She paused for a moment, sitting down in the chair across the table from them, before she continued. “And on a more personal note: I thought you’d want to see the support. You know the team has your back, but it helps to know the fans do too. There is still a lot of hate in this world. I know you still get some flack being open about your sexuality as a pro athlete, Dean. I just wanted you to know how much they, and we, all love you. And how much you both mean to the LGBTQ community as well. To people like me.” Her voice wavered a bit as she finished. 

Dean felt his chin quiver a little bit at the emotion in her voice, and he turned to find Castiel looking at Charlie, his eyes suspiciously wet. Dean reached over and placed his hand over Castiel’s where it rested on the table. Castiel squeezed it gently and watched Dean with those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Oh my god, see! This is what the fans are responding to! You guys are so sweet. Ugh!” Charlie exclaimed, jumping up from her seat. She rounded the table and came up behind their chairs, throwing her arms around their shoulders in a surprisingly strong hug. 

After a few moments, Dean laughed and shrugged Charlie off them. “All right, all right, your majesty. We love you too.”

She grinned and leaned back against the table beside them. “I’ll keep an eye on socials and let you guys know if there’s anything important you need to know. Otherwise, get the hell out of here and get some rest, you still have a few games left and we all still have a lot of work to do!” 

She shooed them away with a wave of her hands. Castiel stopped and shook her hand in thanks, jumping in surprise when she lightly punched him in the arm in response, declaring them best friends.

Dean waited for Castiel to meet him at the door and together they walked back towards the locker room and the building exit. They paused at the door, Castiel taking Dean’s hands in his own. 

“As much as I would love to continue our evening, I know you have early practice tomorrow before the game, and I have to be here early to prepare for the day and pre-record a few segments,” Castiel said, his shoulders hung in regret. 

“That’s okay Cas. This is the life we chose, and this week is crazy important for both of us. Either the season ends in a few games, or we potentially play through October. We both gotta focus,” Dean replied. 

Of course he’d love to go home with Castiel, but he really did need to get a full night’s rest. As the Closer he likely wouldn’t be called in to play tomorrow or even the day after that, but in baseball, you never really knew. Even if he didn’t play, he wanted to make sure he was fully present to support his team.

Castiel smiled and leaned in to place a soft but deep kiss on Dean’s lips. 

****

The team finished the series with two wins, which meant they only had to win one more game to get a spot in the post-season and a chance at playing in the World Series. But with only one series of three games left, the opportunity to gain that last win was dwindling. 

And when they lost the first two games of the series, all their hopes were now set on the one final game of the regular season. 

No pressure or anything.

Their final game was on a Saturday afternoon, and despite it being late September, it was a beautiful, mild sunny day in Toronto. The roof was open at the Rogers Centre for the game, and fans had begun to file into their seats. Dean could hear their excited chatter as the team left the locker room to head to the dugout and onto the field for warmups and the pre-game ceremony. 

As the team entered the field, the fans let out loud cheers and whistles of encouragement, and Dean tried to let their excitement bolster his mood and rev him up for their final outing of the regular season. He let their voices wash over him and surround him like an old favourite blanket. He was so damn thankful this last game was at home, in front of a sold out crowd of over forty thousand people. 

Fuck, he loved this game. 

Dean stood with his team along the third base line as the national anthems were sung, and as the words rang out, his eyes gazed up out the open roof to the CN Tower, a stalwart presence watching over the ballpark. The sky above it was a deep clear blue that reminded him of Castiel’s eyes, and he smiled to himself. 

Once the anthems ended, his teammates spread out to their various positions on the field or to the dugout, and Dean turned to head across the field to the bullpen in the outfield stands. 

As he walked, his eyes found Castiel, who was standing on the sidelines waiting for his camera operator to signal him to go live. He saw Dean watching him and he grinned, giving Dean a wink of encouragement. Dean smiled back and tipped his cap to Castiel. 

He continued his walk to the outfield bullpen, where fans screamed and waved hand painted signs, and some even raised their cans and cups of beer to salute Dean and his fellow pitchers.

Dean remained in the bullpen each inning, discussing the swings of the opposing team’s batters as they had their turns at the plate. It was a neck in neck game; each team scored a few runs to make it a tie game in the bottom of the 7th. Cole Trenton, one of their relief pitchers, had an amazing outing in the top of the 8th to keep the game tied. 

In the bottom of the 8th, Andy hit a go-ahead home run to the ecstatic shouts of the fans in the stands to put them up by one run and give the Jays the lead going into the 9th and final inning of the game. 

Which meant this was now a save situation. This was a job for the Closer. 

This was now Dean’s game to win. 

The bullpen coach got the call and since Dean had started warming up in the 8th in case he was needed, he left the bullpen and walked onto the bright green turf of the outfield. ‘Ramble On’ played as the announcer welcomed him onto the field, the electricity of the moment palpable. It was just him and the mound now, the feel of the ball in his hand. 

He looked over at Benny crouched behind home plate, and threw a few warm up pitches. Once Dean felt loose, Benny jogged up to the mound to go over a few last minute changes to hand signals and some intel about the batters next in the line up.

And then it was time for the 9th inning to begin. If he could hold off the opposing team, keep them from scoring and maintain the Jay’s one point lead, they would win the game outright then and there, no need to play the bottom of the 9th.

Dean and Benny got into their positions and locked in. The trust between pitcher and catcher was extremely important, and there was no one else Dean would want behind the plate. 

His first two pitches went wide and were called balls, and he heard a few groans from the fans. He rolled his shoulders and tried to shake it off, telling himself it was just nerves. His next pitch went right down the middle for a strike, as did the next two, and he struck out the first batter. One down, two more outs to go.

He let out a deep breath and focused on Benny crouched down with his glove out behind the next batter. He watched for Benny’s hand signals to call the pitch. This time Dean got the guy on three strikes in a row, and the crowd cheered so loudly Dean thought his ears may start ringing. 

With one out left, the crowd got to their feet in anticipation, and the noise level increased exponentially. 

Unfortunately for Dean, he was now facing the other team’s best hitter in their line up. He looked briefly to Coach Singer in the Jays dugout to see if he was going to signal for an intentional walk to first base. This decision would mean Dean would not have to pitch against their best player and risk a home run, and try his luck with the next batter. 

But Coach Singer just minutely shook his head, and gave him a small smile. This was Dean’s game to win, he would let Dean handle it.

Dean shook off Benny’s first pitch suggestion but agreed with his second one. He drew back his arm and then released, the ball flying at home plate before dropping abruptly. The batter was successfully fooled, and he swung high. Strike one. The crowd roared. 

Dean and Benny worked like a well-oiled machine. They got a called strike in the zone for strike number two. With one last strike remaining to get the final out and not only win the game but clinch a playoff spot, the fans quieted down despite their excitement, giving Dean the focus he needed.

He took a deep, steadying breath, his mind briefly going to Castiel, knowing he was watching him from his spot near the dugout. He felt a corner of his mouth curl up in a small smile, and he sent his pitch towards the batter at over one hundred miles an hour. The batter swung at it…. 

….and missed by the smallest fraction. The ball connected with Benny’s glove with a satisfying thud. 

Time seemed to stand still, until the ump called the strike and the game. All at once, the crowd went wild, jumping up and down with their arms in the air, popcorn and drinks flying through the air. An absolute roar shook the ballpark as the loud horn sounded to signal the game was won. 

Dean looked to the sky briefly in relief, before he tossed his ball cap and glove in the air, raised his arms above his head, and let out an ecstatic yell of victory. 

He had done it. Dean saved the game to keep the lead his team fought for in the previous eight innings. He helped them win. He helped them stamp their ticket to the post-season and a chance to go all the way to the World Series. 

His team ran from their positions on field and emptied out of the dugout to swarm him on the mound. He knew he would never forget this feeling of such pure elation. They worked so hard all year, all 162 games as a team, a unit: a family not by blood but by the camaraderie built up slowly over a season of work and injury and struggle.  Each and every one of them deserved this victory.

Dean and Benny hugged tightly, his catcher slapping him on the back several times before releasing him. His pitching coach Rufus Turner and Coach Singer pulled him aside to congratulate him. He knew the fans wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while either, wanting to soak up every ounce of the victory. He could not keep the grin off his face if he tried.

Finally, he saw Castiel and his camera operator walk out to the diamond to set up for post-game interviews. He started with Andy, who hit the home run to get them the lead. Dean watched Castiel in his element, admired the way he spoke with knowledge and authority, the way he listened with genuine interest to each of Andy’s answers. Fuck, he loved this man so much.

Dean froze as the realization hit him. Holy fuck, he loved Castiel. Loved his work ethic and drive, his kindness and empathy, his quick wit, and the way he made Dean feel. He felt a laugh bubble up inside of him. 

Dean was in love. 

He saw Andy finish his interview and Castiel turned to the camera to speak a few words. He knew he would likely be called over for an interview himself, so he started jogging over. Castiel was just finishing talking to the camera as he noticed Dean and he smiled so wide it made Dean’s heart beat faster. 

He began to introduce Dean to the camera as he got closer, but instead of stopping in his usual place next to Castiel to be interviewed, he pushed the microphone in his waiting hand out of the way, threw his arms around Castiel’s shoulders, and kissed him soundly. 

Castiel froze in surprise, before he dropped the microphone from his hand and wrapped his arms around Dean’s back to tighten their embrace. Dean sunk his hands into Castiel’s soft hair and pulled him even closer. Castiel hummed his approval into Dean’s mouth before he deepened the kiss. 

The crowd cheered and he could hear piercing wolf whistles and some good-natured teasing remarks from his team mates. He knew they were on camera, live to millions of people across the country. But he couldn’t care less. All that mattered was this man in his arms, who kissed him like he was something to be cherished. 

All of a sudden Dean felt a cold gush of liquid and ice hit him and Castiel from the side, thoroughly soaking their hair and shirts. They jumped apart and Dean whipped his head around to find a few of his team mates running off with an empty orange Gatorade jug, snickering in their sneaky victory. He laughed and yelled after them, only just remembering not to flip them off like he usually would since they were still on camera. 

Castiel picked up his microphone off the ground and shook the excess Gatorade from his hair, making it settle in a tangle of wet, messy curls. He looked beautiful and Dean had to refrain from kissing him again.

Castiel turned to address the camera and cleared his throat, a stupidly happy smile still on his face.

“Well, sorry about that folks. Just had to congratulate my…my…”

Dean leaned into the mic and looked into the camera. “His boyfriend. He had to congratulate his boyfriend,” he finished for Castiel, with a grin and wink.

Castiel smiled dopily at him, his nose crinkling with the force of his smile. “Boyfriend.”

“Yeah, Cas.” 

The camera operator waved at them to get their attention as usual, though he was chuckling at their antics.

Castiel turned once more to the camera. “I’m Castiel Novak and I think I’m going to throw it back to you in the studio so I can kiss my boyfriend again.” 

The camera operator signalled that they were off-air, and Castiel turned to Dean and pulled him into his arms.

“I’m so very proud of you Dean,” he murmured into Dean’s ear.

“Thanks Cas. I’m so damn happy you’re here with me for all this.”

Castiel pulled back to look lovingly at Dean’s face, before leaning in to kiss him again. When they pulled apart this time, Castiel reached for Dean’s hand and they started to walk towards the dugout. 

Just before they reached the stairs, Dean stopped them. Castiel looked at him with a question on his face. Dean smiled in reassurance. He took a minute to look around the ballpark, at the diamond and the mound, at the clear twilight sky above them, at the remaining fans celebrating in the stands. One of those fans caught his eye and gave him a thumb’s up, nodding her head towards Castiel. Dean blushed but raised his hand in a small wave of thanks. 

Then he turned back to Castiel and smiled. Dean gently put his hand on Castiel’s cheek, and watched as Castiel slowly closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“I love you Cas.”

Castiel’s eyes flew open and his lips parted in surprise. He stared at Dean in shock and didn’t say a word for long enough that Dean began to panic. Dean dropped his hand and looked away. It had felt right to say but maybe he should have waited until they were alone. Or waited til the season was over….

“I love you too, Dean.”

Dean whipped his head back to look at Castiel, who had the most beautiful smile on his face and tears forming in his eyes. Dean laughed in relief and then absolute elation. He grabbed Castiel by his still-wet shirt and kissed him. 

They still had post-game celebrations and interviews, had practice and preparation for their first series of the post-season to keep their hopes of a spot at the World Series alive. 

But for tonight, all Dean cared about was that he had Castiel.

THE END.

(or onwards to the bonus smut!)

Chapter Text

Dean left the Rogers Centre very late that night after the game, wrapped in a warm grey hoodie against the slight chill of the late September night air. He walked the few blocks to his apartment with sweeping views of the CN Tower and Lake Ontario in relative peace, as most fans had made their way home (or to the local bars) after the final game of the regular season and the win that got the team into the post-season. 

Dean couldn't wipe the wide smile from his face even if he tried - and he didn't want to, he would remember this day for the rest of his life. He'd remember the roar of the crowd as the game ended in victory, the jubilant celebration with his team mates on the field and in the locker room (where they sprayed champagne and beer all over each other and the coaches - thank goodness for the goggles they provided, that shit stings!).

But most of all, he'd always remember the way Castiel tasted when he kissed him, the way he felt under Dean's hands. He knew video clips of their kiss would already have spread all over the internet (no doubt Charlie would be on him the instant she saw him next). He probably should have kept things a little more professional in front of the cameras and fans in the stands, but in the moment all he wanted was to kiss the fuck out of his boyfriend. 

Boyfriend. That had such a wonderful ring to it. He could feel his smile turn giddy as he entered the lobby of his building and got into the elevator.

Holy fuck, the team was in the playoffs. They'd play the Wild Card round first, and if they won that they'd move on to the American League Divisional Series, and then hopefully onto the American League Championship Series. And if they won that, they would be in the World Series. It was a daunting task ahead of them, but Dean couldn't be more excited for the opportunity.

He tried to put it all out of his mind as he entered his apartment and toed off his shoes. He dropped his bag and keys on the floor by the door to deal with later. Tired and sore, he collapsed onto the couch and turned on his tv, eager to see if Sportsnet was showing any clips of the game (and by game, he really meant ‘clips of his hot as fuck boyfriend’).

Speaking of Castiel, he had been in the locker room during the celebrations, interviewing the elated players. Dean had watched from across the room as Castiel tried his best to do his job all the while getting sprayed with champagne and beer. He wore a beautiful smile the whole time he was on camera, and laughed and celebrated along with the guys. It was an entire team effort after all, and the whole organization was involved in the festivities, from grounds crew to front office staff to the broadcast team and more.

By the time he made his rounds to as many players as possible, Castiel was absolutely drenched in champagne, his suit clinging to his chest and his hair a mess of alcohol-soaked curls. Dean wanted nothing more than to cross the room and taste his skin, chase the drops of champagne he could see dripping from Castiel’s hair and trickling down his neck.

The memory of that impulse of urgent want caused Dean to need to readjust in his jeans while he sat on his couch. He palmed the zipper and let out a soft moan. Damnit, why did Castiel need to stay behind at the stadium? He could think of a few ways they could celebrate together.

Dean checked his phone to see if there were any new messages or calls from Castiel, but his phone was woefully silent. He sighed and resigned himself to a good jerk off session before bed. Hopefully he'd see Castiel tomorrow. Such is their busy life in Major League Baseball.

Slouching down into the couch cushions, Dean switched the tv over to a marathon of some baking show. He felt his eyes get heavier but he didn't want to put in the effort to get up and ready for bed. Besides, this episode was all about pie.

He was half asleep when he heard a knock on his apartment door. There was only one person that could be knocking at this hour and suddenly he found himself very much awake. He leapt from the couch and hustled to his door.

Dean opened his door so eagerly, it flew from his hand and bounced off the entryway wall. He cringed briefly but couldn't be that embarrassed, because there at his door was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. 

Castiel chuckled at Dean’s enthusiasm. Dean reached out to wrap his arms around him but Castiel raised a hand to stop him. Confused, Dean dropped his arms.

“Not that I don't want to feel you in my arms Dean, waiting to be able to leave the stadium was nothing short of torture,” he said with an apologetic smile. “But if you could not already tell, I am still very much covered in champagne. Or at least, my clothes are covered in half-dry champagne and my skin is still sticky. I wouldn't want to get it all over you.” He gestured down his body with one of his large hands.

Dean gave him a slow, deliberate once over and then met Castiel's eyes with his own now darkened ones. He grabbed Castiel by his blue tie and pulled him into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind them. Dean leaned in and licked a slow stripe up the side of Castiel's neck, indeed tasting the sticky sweet leftovers of the champagne on his skin.

He heard a sharp intake of breath and felt Castiel shudder. Dean kissed the bolt of his jaw before he stepped back. Castiel gazed at him with such unabashed want, it took everything Dean had not to tear his clothes off right then and there. Instead, he kept his hand on Castiel's tie and walked backwards towards the bedroom. Instead of going to the bed though, Dean took Castiel into the en suite bathroom. Castiel looked longingly back at the bed but followed anyway. 

Dean's bathroom was spacious, and he had painted the walls a soft green to accent the slate tile and wood vanity, making the room feel like a serene forest. He even had a rainfall showerhead to complete the vibe. It was his favourite place to de-stress after games (and to think about Castiel when he was alone). 

Dean reached into the large glass stall that took up the entire width of the far end of the room and turned on the shower, the room quickly filling with steam. He turned back to Castiel and pulled his tie loose before lifting it off his neck and over his head, tossing it to the floor. He then pushed the dark blue suit jacket from Castiel's shoulders, and unbuttoned his still-damp shirt.

He looked into Castiel's incredibly blue eyes as he slowly pulled the shirt the rest of the way off and let it drop to the ground. Castiel gulped, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he watched Dean reach for his suit pants. Dean popped the button and lowered the zipper, before he dragged both the pants and boxers down Castiel's legs, until he was gloriously naked. Dean remained on his knees and placed soft kisses up Castiel's thighs to his sharp hip bones, delighting at the small twitches in the muscles it caused. 

“Dean…..” Castiel moaned, his voice almost a whine. 

Dean chuckled and stood back up, quickly removing his own clothes. Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean’s hips, pulling him flush to his front. Dean could feel Castiel's half-hard cock pressing into his own and his breath stuttered. Castiel slowly kissed along his jaw, lightly nipping his ear lobe, before he drew back. He looked at Dean with such open, ardent love, and Dean could feel a blush spread over his cheeks.

Castiel smiled at the reaction and ran his finger gently over Dean’s pink freckled cheek. He stepped back, took Dean’s hand and led him into the shower, where the wonderfully warm water washed over their skin as Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean from behind. Dean closed his eyes and leaned back into Castiel’s embrace, revelling in the hold of his strong arms. He felt so safe and wanted.

But also so, so turned on. 

He could feel Castiel’s hard length slotted against his ass, and he rocked back into it. Castiel moaned in response and began to pepper wet kisses on Dean’s shoulders. He reached down and took Dean in his large hand, causing Dean to cry out at the sensation. Dean could feel himself getting worked up too fast; he had a plan and he was going to stick to it damnit.

He reluctantly stayed Castiel’s hand and turned in his arms. “As much as I was enjoying that Cas, you’re still sticky from the champagne. Let’s get you clean, I have much more planned for you than hand jobs in the shower,” Dean murmured, kissing the adorable pout off Castiel’s mouth.

He retrieved his body wash and a cloth and proceeded to gently scrub every single inch of Castiel’s muscular body, before pushing him under the shower spray to rinse off. Castiel gazed at him with heat in his blue eyes as he let the water sluice down his skin. The thrill of anticipation caused a flurry of butterflies to stir in Dean’s stomach and he had to will himself not to reach down and take his cock in hand while he watched Castiel.

Once the soap was rinsed away from his body, Castiel returned the favour, outright worshipping Dean’s body as he washed him. Everywhere the cloth touched left a burn of tingling heat along Dean’s skin. He cleaned the suds off under the rainfall shower head and turned to see Castiel watching him with hooded eyes. He gave Castiel a cocky grin and was about to turn off the water, when suddenly Castiel was on him. 

Dean felt his back hit the tile and he let out a little ‘oomph’ before Castiel pressed his body from shoulder to knees against Dean and absolutely devoured Dean’s mouth. 

Castiel grabbed Dean’s cock again and gave it a few pulls, causing Dean to let out a filthy moan and reach to grab a handful of Castiel’s gorgeous ass. They rutted against each other for a few moments, and then Castiel broke the kiss in order to turn Dean to face the wall. 

He felt Castiel step away for a moment before he returned, draping himself against Dean’s back and nosing at the nape of his neck. Castiel’s teeth grazed his shoulder and then bit down, not hard enough to break skin, but with enough pressure to cause stars to explode behind Dean’s eyelids.

Dean heard the snick of a cap opening and then Castiel grabbed a handful of Dean’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart. 

“Did you mean what you said to me all those weeks back after that interview, Dean?” Castiel growled into Dean’s ear.

Dean whimpered, “Cas… Cas….”

Castiel ran his finger down along Dean’s crack and teased over his entrance. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted me to fuck you?”

Dean moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the tiled walls of the shower. 

Castiel chuckled darkly. “I'm going to need to hear you say it, Dean.”

Dean pushed back against Castiel's toying finger, causing the digit to breach his hole and this time it was Castiel who moaned.

“Yes, Cas, yes!” Dean exclaimed. “I meant every damn word!” He rocked back onto Castiel's finger harder, and Castiel pushed his finger in farther, causing Dean to mewl from the sensation. Castiel pumped his finger in and out until he was able to add another finger, and then one more.

Dean leaned his forehead onto the cool tile, panting in pleasure, and braced each hand next to his head, as he began fucking back on Castiel's three fingers in earnest.

“Oh Dean, look at you,” Castiel praised, his voice more deep and husky than ever. 

“Cas… please…” Dean begged, reaching one hand back to grab a fistful of Castiel's hair.

Suddenly Castiel pulled his fingers out, washing them quickly before turning off the water. Dean sucked in lungfuls of steamy air as his heart rate came back down while Castiel stepped out of the shower and found a pair of towels to dry them off. Then he tossed the towels haphazardly to join their discarded clothes on the bathroom floor, and scooped Dean up to carry him in his arms.

Dean would never admit the little yelp he let out when his feet left the floor so unexpectedly. Or just how safe and loved he felt secure in Castiel's arms (okay screw it, he would totally admit that because fuck it, being carried by Castiel was so hot).

Castiel pulled the covers of Dean's bed down with one hand and then gently placed Dean down on the bed, leaving a tender kiss near his belly button. How this man could go from dominant sex god to such a sweet, caring lover was just another reason why Dean loved him so much. 

Dean reached for Castiel and pulled him down so their bodies were flush. They kissed deeply as they started slowly rutting together, the feeling of Castiel's hard cock against his own driving Dean out of his mind. Castiel trailed one hand down, briefly flicking over Dean's nipple before continuing its journey to grasp Dean's thigh and coax his leg to wrap around Castiel's hips. 

The change in angle brought them closer and they both moaned in pleasure. Castiel kissed down Dean's neck, biting and sucking marks, the feeling driving Dean wild. 

Bracing himself on one elbow, Castiel looked down at Dean with blue eyes filled with a mix of soft adoration and molten fire. Dean shuddered under the attention, and reached up to run his fingers gently along Castiel's temple, down his cheek, and along his jaw to his lips. 

“What do you want, Dean? How do you want to do this?” he murmured, softly kissing Dean's fingers. 

Dean bit his lip while he contemplated his answer, and Castiel's eyes hungrily followed the motion. 

“I want to ride you,” Dean answered. “Sit up against the headboard.” He grinned and winked, causing Castiel to chuckle. 

“I can do that,” Castiel replied as he climbed off Dean and repositioned himself so that he sat upright, his legs stretched out in front of him. He absentmindedly reached down and ran his hand up and down his shaft as he watched Dean lean over and retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom from his bedside drawer. 

Dean dropped the supplies on the bed next to Castiel and climbed into his lap, bringing his arms up to rest on Castiel's broad shoulders so he could run his fingers through the fine curls at the nape of his neck. His thigh muscles protested a bit, still very tired from the game, but he didn't care: he wanted to feel Castiel inside him for the first time while he moved on top of him. He wanted to watch Castiel's face as he lost himself in pleasure.

Castiel ran his hands up Dean's hips and grabbed fistfuls of his ass, spreading him apart. Dean got with the program and grabbed the lube, drizzled some onto his fingers, and reached back to stretch himself further. Castiel used his hands to massage the globes of his ass while he watched Dean writhe in his lap. 

Thankfully Dean was still pretty open from the shower, so he removed his fingers once he felt stretched enough and fumbled for the condom. He rolled it onto Castiel and added some lube, before raising himself up and positioning Castiel's cock to his entrance.

He paused for a moment and gave Castiel a soft smile, which Castiel returned with the smallest nod of his head. Dean sank down slowly, closing his eyes and allowing himself to adjust as he took in Castiel's hard length. Once he was fully seated, he looked down at Castiel, who met his gaze with an awestruck expression. 

Castiel reached up and pulled Dean's face down to him, kissing him reverently and worshipping him with his talented tongue. Dean's skin felt like it was burning from the inside and he began to make little circles with his hips. Castiel broke their kiss on a deep moan and rested his shoulders and head back against the headboard. He watched Dean move in his lap, and the fire in his gaze ignited sparks along Dean's spine, encouraging him to move in earnest now. 

Unable to be a spectator anymore, Castiel moved his hands back to Dean's hips and held on tightly. He leaned forward and licked along Dean's neck down to his collarbone, before sucking Dean's nipple into his mouth, causing Dean to cry out. He alternated between pulling it between his teeth and laving at it with his tongue, and the sensation felt incredible. Dean tightened his fingers in Castiel's hair, holding him in place against his chest during his ministrations, while Dean increased the fervour of his movements. 

Castiel used his hands on Dean's hips to pull Dean deeper on each downward slide. Dean heard himself start to babble, felt the familiar curl of heat and pleasure building low in his belly. And Castiel must have heard him too, as he reached one hand down to move quickly up and down Dean's shaft with skilled precision. He kept his other hand on Dean’s hip to continue to pull Dean down hard onto his thick length.

“Cas… fuck Cas…” Dean mewled, his hands grasping desperately at Castiel's shoulders, as he continued to suck on Dean’s nipples while stripping his cock as Dean rode him furiously. All the competing sensations were driving Dean closer and closer to the edge.

Castiel growled against his chest. “Come for me, Dean.”

And Dean was lost. His eyes slammed shut as intense pleasure surged through his body, igniting every nerve. He cried out “Castiel!” and distantly heard an answering “Dean!” before feeling Castiel thrust up deep inside him and still. 

When Dean came back to himself, he found that he had collapsed against Castiel, cheek resting on the sweaty mess of his dark hair. Waiting until he had caught his breath, Dean then moved back in Castiel's lap and looked down at him. 

Castiel gazed up at Dean with the most incredible, dopey, love drunk smile on his face, one that made those adorable eye crinkles appear. Dean grinned and leaned down to kiss those crinkles he loved so much, on the man he loved so much. 

Eventually Dean moved from Castiel's lap so he could get up and dispose of the condom. Castiel returned from the bathroom with a wet cloth and wiped them both down, tossing the cloth towards the bathroom door to deal later. He crawled back in bed with Dean, who laid lazily on his back in the middle of the bed, completely and utterly sated. 

Dean lifted his arm to welcome Castiel into his embrace, Castiel eagerly laying on his side next to Dean with his head pillowed on Dean's shoulder. He traced abstract designs with his fingers along Dean's chest and sighed with contentment. Dean laid soft kisses in Castiel's hair and wrapped his arms tightly around him. 

They laid quietly enjoying the intimacy of their closeness until Dean let out a yawn, his eyes heavy with the day’s events. Castiel chuckled and lifted his head off Dean's chest to look at him.

“I think perhaps we should try to get some sleep. It's been a long day - a wonderful, amazing, remember-it-for-a-lifetime day - and we both need some rest,” Castiel said quietly, a soft smile on his handsome face. “We both have a busy day tomorrow and some very long days ahead.”

Dean nodded sleepily and Castiel got up briefly to turn off the light and pull up the bed linens to cover them. He returned to Dean's embrace and sighed, his head resting over Dean's heart. Draping his arm across Dean’s stomach, Castiel laid his hand on Dean's left bicep. 

As Dean drifted to sleep holding the man he loved, he thought briefly of his team and the post-season games still needed to be played.

But mostly, he thought of how lucky he was to have the love and support of a man as wonderful as Castiel, and how much he loved him in return. 

THE END.