Chapter Text
“And that is why it’s not a good idea to root around these boxes without proper precautions.” Sam lectures, his arms crossed and trying (but failing spectacularly) to look stern.
Beside him, Cas shifts uncomfortably, pulling at the handcuff attached a little too tightly to his wrist.
“Shut up and help us get these off.” Dean says, fidgeting with the other end. The cuff was cool against his skin.
“What happened exactly?” Sam asks, finally stopping with his little lecture and taking a better look at the box Dean and Cas had found the handcuffs in.
“Dean was complaining about how dusty and disorganized this room was, so I was helping him sort it out. The boxes were piled together in an unstable manner and this one fell down and broke open before we could stop it.” Cas says, examining the cuff carefully.
“And both of you... just decided to put this on and see?” Sam asks them, raising his eyebrows.
“Of course not! We reached for it at the same time and it just—clicked together.” Dean protests.
Sam looks unconvinced.
“There are no markings on this of any nature.” Cas mutters, tugging the cuff this way and that. Dean huffs in annoyance as his hand is pulled about.
“Well lucky for you it seems to be numbered,” Sam says, squinting at the tiny script on the side of the box. “We can check with the men of letters object records and find out how to fix this. Shouldn’t take too long.”
+
Eighteen hours and a few extremely awkward bathroom trips later, they haven’t found anything and Dean’s eyes are positively burning.
“I’m going to bed. I can’t even see straight anymore.” Sam says, shutting his book. “It’s clearly not harming you guys. Just go to bed and we can figure it out tomorrow.”
Cas grunts in reply and shuts his own book, standing up before Dean is ready and knocking over Dean’s empty coffee mug in the process. It shatters loudly, the pieces flying in every direction.
“Sorry.” Cas says, wincing. “I’ll clean that up tomorrow.”
Sam briefly pats Cas on the shoulder before stretching and ambling off.
“Yeah whatever, come on.” Dean says grumpily, dragging Cas off towards his room.
It’s when he’s reaching for clothes to change into that Dean realizes he can’t take off his shirt. He glares at the damned handcuff.
“Maybe just the pants?” Cas asks him solemnly.
Dean gapes at him, his cheeks flushing as Cas takes his own pants off and folds them as best as he can one-handed. Dean catches a glimpse of white boxer shorts before Cas’s overlong shirt falls to cover them. He finds his gaze wandering to Cas’s thick thighs and muscular looking calves. He is hairier than Dean, but it suits him. And his feet are gorgeous.
“Dean?” Cas says and Dean snaps his head up, mortified.
“Yeah, okay.” he says and peels his own pants off before flinging them away and diving under the sheets hurriedly. Cas squeaks inelegantly before falling on top of him with a thud. Dean groans in pain as Cas’s elbow hits him in the side.
“Dean, it would be better for you to warn me before making any sudden movements.” Cas grumbles as he wiggles away from him and gets into the covers as well. The chain between the cuffs is too short for them to really move too far away from each other and Cas ends up well into Dean’s space.
“Sorry.” Dean mumbles, trying to look away from Cas’s pink, chapped lips that are only inches from his own.
Cas nods absently, examining the cuff around his wrist carefully again. Dean stares at him, at the long eyelashes (How did he never notice how long there were?) fanning his cheeks, at the incredible jawline that could cut glass.
“It is uncomfortable.” Cas says, his sandpaper voice so much deeper from this close. Dean suppresses a shiver. Cas reaches out to hook a finger in Dean’s own cuff and Dean pretty much stops breathing.
“Does your wrist hurt?” Cas asks him, lifting his blue eyes to meet Dean’s.
Dean stared into their depths, uncomprehending. His heart is thudding loudly in his ears and he feels like he’s going to pass out.
“Dean?” Cas frowns a little in concern and then reaches out to gently touch his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
Dean kisses him. Cas does nothing. His lips are as rough as Dean thought they might be, but his mouth is wet and unresponsive. Dean pulls away slowly after a minute, his heart sinking in his chest. He should've known that Cas didn't want him that way.
"Dean I-" Cas begins but Dean cuts him off. He doesn't think he can bear to hear anything Cas has to say now.
“We should sleep.” he says, shutting his eyes.
“De-”
"I'm beat, Cas." He’s too ashamed to even look at Cas and wishes heartily that he could just cut off his hand and flee. He can feel the unexpected tears building up, but he’ll be damned if he humiliates himself any further in front of Cas.
He doesn’t sleep for a long time, but he doesn’t open his eyes either.
+
Warmth.
There are fingers stroking his hair and Dean can feel the soft exhales of the person next to him. He enjoys it for a while, vaguely trying to figure out who he had slept with, when it suddenly comes to him and he wakes with a gasp.
Cas is looking at him, his hand frozen in Dean’s hair.
“Dean. I-”
“We should get up. Hit the books again.” Dean says and tries to get up. Cas grabs his shoulder and pulls him straight back down.
“Please Dean. I owe you an apology.”
“Not your fault man.” Dean babbles, not wanting hear Cas reject him as well. “Good talk, yeah?”
“Dean.” Cas says, not raising his voice, but his tone brooked no more interruptions.
“Yeah?” Dean says, resigning himself to the inevitable. He looks away, at Cas’s throat, at the line of Cas’s collar. It’s grimy— Dean makes a mental note to scrub that out with bleach the next time he does the laundry.
Cas sighs and places a hand on Dean’s jaw, lifting it gently to meet his eyes.
“Look at me.”
Cas’s gaze is calm as it bores into him. Even as a human he can be disconcerting.
“You surprised me yesterday.”
“Cas, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never-”
“But it was not an unpleasant surprise.”
Dean opens his mouth but his words die halfway down his throat. Cas smiles at him gently before tugging him forward and kissing him. Dean freezes for a second before he almost sobs with relief and surges forward into the kiss, opening his mouth and letting Cas in. Their teeth clack together and Cas grips Dean’s hair hard with his free hand.
He pulls away from Dean to begin nipping at his throat, his hand tugging at the short strands at the back of his head. Dean slides his palm under Cas’s shirt, stroking at his hipbone. He slots his thigh across Cas's rather prominent erection, making the other man man gasp and attack Dean's mouth again. Dean smiles into the kiss as he begins to rut against Cas, both of them hard and wanting and it’s looking like the hottest sex Dean is ever going to have.
“So get this- Oh god you guys Jesus Christ-” Sam sputters as he bursts into the room.
Dean gives a little squeak of surprise as he springs away from Cas and falls out of the bed.
“What the fuck Sammy can’t you ever knock-”
“I wouldn’t have to if you wouldn’t keep doing this-“
“We seem to be free.” Cas deadpans from the bed, holding up the cuffs. His lips are swollen and his hair is more stuck up than usual. He also looks like sex on legs.
“It was cursed to make people work together.” Sam says, pouting. “I suppose if you’re cuffed together till you can agree to co-operate you’re going to cave eventually.”
“Oh we learnt to co-operate all right.” Dean says, throwing Cas a rather saucy wink. Cas blushes red and Sam groans.
“All right you know what, you’re both free and I’m very happy for you guys. Now I’m going to go far, far away and get breakfast.”
“You do that, Sammy.” Dean says, shutting the door helpfully behind him before turning around to face Cas.
“Now where were we?”